Mystique

"By dragon blood and shadow bound, come forth spirit to hollow ground. Cast out demons, cast out death; give this blood thy holy breath."

The wooden bowl of liquid gold glistened, as a faint swirl of steam rose out of it and then vanished. The man casting the spell blew on it once and turned to face the other man with him in the cold, stone room. The only light present came from the few scattered candles, their faint glow shimmering off the golden drink and reflecting onto the walls. The old man carrying the concoction was old indeed. Wrinkles lined his face and his eyes sagged so only a sliver of them could be seen. He had thin yet long white eyebrows and a matching floor-length beard. He hunched over and waddled towards the other man, who was sitting on a cushioned chair, his breathing labored, sweat beading on his forehead. He had tanned skin a black, thick, waist-length beard and hair, both of which contained many beads and braids. He was a large man, but most of his weight was due to muscle. He had full lips, a set of dark

eyes, and high cheekbones. His robes were

richly colored, and the metals that decorated him glimmered in the candlelight.

The older man reached to the younger one and held the bowl to his lips. "Drink" he said in a harsh whisper. The younger man obeyed, gulping at the liquid gold. He then closed his eyes, his breath strengthening and evening. The man's veins began to glow. It started at the core of him, but soon traveled outward lighting up each vessel with a pale golden light, and spreading to the skin until his entire body cast a faint gold flame. The man gasped, and his eyes widened, the irises turning the same metallic color. Yet, as quickly as it came, the gold left, his skin and veins returning to their brown state. All except the eyes. The once ebony iris still held onto a few slivers of gold which splintered the man's cold stare. The older man turned back to the desk on which he had drafted the mixture.

"How much is left?" the man asked. The older man did not respond at first. "Wu?" he pressed.

"That was the last of Orinod" Wu said quietly.

The man scoffed. "I still do not see why you name them. They are beast. Ravenous, monstrous beast."

"With all due respect your highness, it is my way of honoring their sacrifices."

"The dragons do not make sacrifices," the nobleman said. "They do not give their blood freely."

Wu nodded at this. "Not all sacrifices are."

The nobleman did not seem to know what to make of this and stood instead, a hand on the chair to steady himself. "I will send out more Bleeders. They should return with more supplies soon." Wu nodded, his eyes somber. The nobleman walked across the room and paused with his hand on the door. "Wu" he said suddenly, turning to slowly look the old man up and down. "You have become quite old."

Wu chuckled at this. "And mv bones know it."

The nobleman did not smile. "I would think it was time you take on an apprentice of sorts. Someone to carry on your work."

The civil smile left Wu's face. He knew what this meant. After he had passed on everything he knew to an apprentice, there would be no more need for him. But to find an apprentice with the right capabilities was a difficult, near impossible, task. A task that would take time. Wu nodded. "An apprentice would be most useful. It would be my honor to train them, my King"

The King grinned, pleased with himself. "I will begin the search immediatelv" He pushed open the door in excitement, leaving Wu alone in the dark. Swallowing, the old man waddled back behind his desk to a wall of shelving filled with scrolls and books, bottles and jars, worms and herbs, and stones and gems. He reached out and pulled a small box from the shelf. It was

crafted from a smooth dark wood and was fairly plain and simple, aside from the dragon emblem that was carved into the top of the wood and a string of words written in an ancient language that rimmed each edge of the box. Wu opened it and picked out its only possession: a soft white stone. If Wu must take on an apprentice, the least he would do was ensure it was a good one. Not some petty nagger that would only bumble into Wu's way. He planned to spend his final days in peace, enjoying the end as much as he could.

Wu picked the stone up and rubbed it between his hands muttering a prayer.

"Lord of Dragons, show thy face. Come to me with strength and grace. Be obedient, with trust and honor, and I shall love thee, like a father."

The stone began to glow and then flicker,

turning a jade green. Wu's mouth parted, the slivers for his eyes growing wider until their murky brown color could be seen. He stuttered quickly,

"B-bind my stone with thy Lord, whose fate is sealed forever more. So I shall know, so I shall see, of the Lord for whom the Dragons bleed."

The flickering of the stone repeatedly stopped and started again, almost as it was pulsing to the beat of a heart.