The Murder

The robed figure stepped across the dirty rugged floor, his white garments contrasting glaringly with his dark surroundings. Before him hovered the great Vel, his thick dragon-like wings only flapping once to create a gust of air to keep him aloft. The mask across his face glowed with those faint green markings resembling his lost eyes. "You made a grave mistake." The cool voice rung through the stale, frigid air. The other figure, though he was smaller than the great beast before him, stood with the sort of confidence one would have if they knew they would win the battle. Slowly, he raised a gloved hand to his mask. The mask of pain. He pulled it off, casting it onto the ground. The clattering sound rung through the plain, as the Vel froze in shock. Slowly he lowered to the ground, staring into the Scalalorian's amber eyes. They held a kind of rage such as he'd never seen. A kind of animalistic anger. He knew who he was, but he tried to deny it as the other figure pulled off his gloves, unsheathing his long-dormant claws. "You let me onboard." As he spoke, the Vel could see he had already unsheathed his fangs. He couldn't help but grin, looking down at the small, angry figure. "So what if I have? I've beaten you to the ground before!" But as he spoke the words, he could feel his heart sink. Why was he dreading this? In sudden realization, he noticed the figure's gaze had been just like his so long ago. The certainty of death. That spark of ambition, the will to get what you want no matter the cost. He had waited so long, just for him. Just for him. In a panic, he raised a claw. "ATTACK!!" His shoulders fell slightly in relief as he watched many of his people surge from hiding, flooding down towards the robed figure. And at first, it seemed to work. But then came the sound of metal cutting into flesh. Multiple screams and squeals rang out, and again the figure emerged. He teleported erratically around the group, yet it seemed to have a consistent rhythm. His pitch black blade thrust and parried over and over, until all of them laid at his feet. "This is between you and me." He spoke in a low voice, his blade at his side. "And I won't be denied." The Vel took a step back, shivering. The look in his eyes seemed to devour him from the inside out, they seemed to blaze with a ravenous fire. In the moment of his distraction, he dashed forward. He almost missed the grey blur, but on reflex he flapped his wings, shooting up into the air. The figure halted immediately, throwing himself into another portal, appearing in front of him. The Vel swallowed his panic, clenching his jaw. If it was a fight he wanted, it was a fight he was going to get. He held out his claws, creating a ball of smoking, greenish energy. He squeezed it, then snapped his hands open, creating a blast wave of the putrid energy. The robed figure ducked back in his portal, evading the substance. It seemed like hours. He'd been constantly trying to at least hit the figure, but every single time they'd evaded through teleportation. He was exhausted, but not even hurt. He couldn't even fly anymore, his wings were numb. Suddenly, the figure appeared in front of him, although he seemed to waver in his vision. He shook his head, but the blurriness didn't go away. A sudden stinging in his arm snapped his attention back to reality. His gaze shot over to his arm, where there was a small cut. He glanced over at the figure, who simply stood there, examining his dirtied blade. "..You think a simple cut will bother me..?" He wheezed, clearing his throat. Tired. Why was he so tired? The figure chuckled lowly at first, but then started laughing. A laugh that tied knots in his stomach. A laugh that meant he had won. The figure turned, watching him coolly with those hungering eyes. He pointed the blade at him, but did not move to attack. "All I needed was one cut. It's called poison, dear." He cooed in an off-tone voice. "Luminari poison. Once it reaches your heart in about, oh, fifteen minutes?" He grinned, sliding his finger over his throat. "You're already dead." He cackled as the Vel looked down at his cut, freezing as he saw his veins turn black with poison. He looked up, letting out a bloodcurdling scream as the figure appeared in front of him, thrusting the blade through his chest.

"Sylvius, tell the people we've finally won the war."