Snow drifted slowly down hitting the pavers of the streets of Edana it always seemed to follow the mage wherever he went, his frost weave robes embracing the snow, almost as if they were being empowered by it, on any other night the mage would feel this power, but as he glanced down there was a warmth that spilled forward, his own blood, and he was standing in a pool of it. He could barely focus his eyes flickering left and right, he forced the wound closed the ice magic seeping into his body forming a shell of sorts until he was completely wrapped in a protective ice barrier.
That is when the mage saw his foe, a small head tilt from a man dressed in torn and ragged robes, his skin pale as the full moon itself, his hair dark like raven feathers, with eyes that would pierce a soul. “Come now my apprentice, you did not think that little gem could hold me forever now did you? Your winter is at an end Issac Dunemeer..” And darkness began to creep forward wrapping around the ice mage.
Earlier in the evening…
Issac Dunemeer the Arch-Mage of the city and member of its council slowly methodically did as he always did, checked on those that needed to be checked,and then returned to his arcane study, to delve into the darkest of nights, his studies turned to wide spread arcane abilities, his aim a protective winters storm that would enshroud Edana at moments notice as a form of defense.
Deep into the night the Arch-Mage studied, theorized and practiced until as most nights his head found rest upon the desk and for what he promised himself would just be a moment of eyes rest, he found himself dreaming.
Dark shadows swirled around the Arch-Mage, this space his dreamscape tore him to was familiar, a laboratory of sorts, a place where he learned to control the arcane, where he once had a teacher, one who he betrayed.
Panic began to build in Issacs chest, why was he here, his eyes frantically searching the room, until he caught sight of the pale figure there, lurking in the corner likes some sort of jungle cat watching its prey.
Issac rose a hand the icicles swirling about it as they slammed forward into the shadow like figure, the arcane light they produced banishing the shadow back and dispelling whatever the illusion was, Issac then turned feeling the eyes on him and as he did not but two inches from his own face was that of his master, the pale moonlight skin shimmered, his eyes like burning coals.
Issac jolted awake, letting a panicked breath out, glancing around his study, the Arch-Mage rubbed at his eye a moment and pulled himself up moving towards a large cabinet, he slowly weaved magic to unlock it and opened it. The pace of his heart then quickened, the sole inhabitant of this cabinet a darkened power stone lay in two pieces, shattered, it was then he felt the sharp pain of something hitting his stomach, and the sound of his flesh tearing broke the silence and shock in his mind.
Issac looked down and saw a bone like knife embedded in his stomach, his first reaction he unleashed a torrent of ice and death from his body, the study was thrown into disarray as the ice nova exploded forward, next he readied a teleport spell, glancing outside the window in an instant he felt himself torn through time and space to outside the study, his feet hit pavers and began to run, he could see the shadows moving and swirling around him as he did.
Another shot of pain as he glanced down the bone knife itself still embedded seemed to move of its own accord, twisting and sinking deeper, Issac stopped and using all his strength ripped the barbed dagger from the wound, his muscles were on fire, poison more than likely raced into his bloodstream.
Issac had one choice, he was nearly dead, the surprise attack had done well, he focused and the ice magic began to wrap around him in a healing and rejuvenating embrace, that is when he saw the figure, that is when he heard the voice, and that is when everything went dark.
The individual strolled forward, his golden eyes locked on the small power crystal where his apprentice once stood, its glow a soft blue, as his pale hand reached down the crystal was cold to the touch, still he gripped it and raised it to his mouth whispering to the gem “ Your turn to learn some manners my dear Apprentice, perhaps if you are good I will let you out sooner rather than later…”
And the figure strolled into the night's darkness, taking a deep breath at the freedom that had come to him, he let out a small joyful whistle as he tucked the small blue power crystal into a pouch at his side. Patting it as he did.