crimson (p)
The man flittered into the room, giving no attention to the eyes on him.
“Do you have it?” He spoke with such authority, no one could mistake who he was, and no one ever questioned him, either.
A small and pudgy man stared up at the man. “Y-Yes, my lord. It is in the room in which you requested. None of us have touched it.”
The man stared at the smaller. “Perfect.”
He ignored the onlookers, assuming he probably gave them the shock of their lives. Mages were rare nowadays, no one has seen one in centuries. The man was one of the last ones left. They were now merely a were legend, a myth.
“My lord, if I may ask, what exactly do you need this for?” the pudgy man asked.
“You may not,” he replied.
The smaller man lowered his eyes and stepped aside. “Of course, my lord.”
The remaining servants moved as well, ensuring they didn’t get in their master’s way. They didn’t want to make the same mistake as the last servant who did. They hadn’t seen her in months.
The taller man walked through his servants, not even batting an eye. He approached a wooden door with no knobs. He whispered his spell and it opened silently. He turned and spoke.
“All of you, return to your jobs. Now.”
He stepped into the room and the wooden door shut. There was a bright, blinding light coming from the center of the room.
He stepped towards the light slowly and grabbed the object. It was a small, smooth crystal, what humans would call an orb. He trailed his fingers along the sides of the orb and closed his eyes.
He chanted in his head. Show me the one.
When he opened his eyes, only one thing filled the orb.
Crimson.
——
unedited.
