She fiddled with the ring on her index finger, feeling a hum of energy rise to meet her fingertip. Such a clever bit of magic, she thought. Instead of needing to pull on lots of power every time she wanted to cast a common spell, all she had to do was invoke the ring, and it did the work for her. She wondered idly what other tricks the ring’s maker might have known. Unfortunately, he had not survived her… questioning, and so she was left to imagine the possibilities. At least the ring spell wasn’t hard magic to replicate, and she had always adored jewelry.
She considered the scene before her. So messy. And yet, the best things in life always were. She pulled a small white handkerchief from one of the many pockets in her leather duster, and bent next to the rumpled form on the ground.
“I’m not really sorry,” she said quietly, conversationally. “You have something I need, and this is the only way to get it. I know, I’m supposed to feel remorse, supposed to struggle with the demons, supposed to want to be a better person. But you want to know a secret?” She brushed a lock of hair away from the man’s face, observing the sickly skin, the blank eyes. “I rather like my demons. They have taught me so much more than I could have ever learned following the Light.”
She dipped the handkerchief in the sticky mass of blood by his side, soaking up as much as she could. “Do you realize what a rarity you are? The blood of a pure-hearted man is so difficult to come by these days. Not that finding anyone with a pure heart is easy, but you men… Nasty creatures, aren’t you?” She sat back on her heels, tucking the sodden handkerchief in a small jar, then slipping both in another pocket.
She tilted her head, considering his rapidly cooling corpse. “You aren’t bad to look at, you know. Makes the whole thing rather unfortunate, doesn’t it? But then again, why is it that these things are only tragic when the dead person was attractive, or young? Horrid state of the world, isn’t it…”
Finally standing, she glanced around. They were in a secluded alley, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
“Well, this has been lovely. If you ever come back and decide to haunt, look me up. Your ghostly energy could be useful.” She twisted the ring she had been toying with earlier, tapping into its power. Slowly, the body, the blood, all began to sink into the earth, to be buried beneath stone and soil. In seconds, the alley was clear, as if she, and he, had never been there.
“Such a neat little trick,” she murmured to herself, before twisting another ring, and vanishing.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020