So I was reading up on some things for the D&D group I'm currently in at the moment. Currently my roommate's wizard, Ryalt, has fated himself to be the one who kills my rogue. I was reminded of this and decided to write up a little something or another, about it. One of those scenes that happen at the end of an episode of anime as a precursor the fight that actually happens in the next episode. Ah... is any of that making sense? Whatever, it doesn't matter.
“This is the farthest I can let your ambitions go, Wolf. The world wants peace, and it can't have it as long as you exist,” the man moved his arms swiftly, flourishing his sapphire-blue robes, as he drew arcane energies into the shape of a spell. The translucent golden energy moved from both extremes of his body – head and feet – washing across the thin, unfit body of a studious wizard. There was no satisfaction on his face for what he was about to do. His brown eyes were swimming with equal parts contempt and regret, shrouded partially by his long, unkempt black hair.
“Oh? I guess I'm in some trouble then, Ryalt,” Wolf sat at a table, calmly picking at bits of delicately cooked meat, with his back to his promised attacker. Without any regard to the seriousness of the situation he ruffled his hair with his left hand, drawing the self-reliant strands back and forward between his fingeres. Which piece of meat to eat next was of more importance to him than the idle threats of someone who didn't bother to kill him in silence. Wolf closed his eyes, squeezing away any light that would reflect into the aquamarine orbs. With a small sigh, he stabbed randomly at the stack of meat slices with his fork, piercing one, “Did I get a good piece you think?”
“Are you just going to sit there and let yourself be killed?” Ryalt pointed a finger at the back of Wolf's chest and gathered fiery energy to its tip. His hands were trembling and his voice had become unsteady.
“Only one way to find out,” Wolf stuffed the piece of meat into his mouth and took small, slow bites in an attempt to prolong the enjoyment. A smirk grew on his face, out of Ryalt's sight, and Wolf put the fork down onto his plate, “I really am good at picking food.”
“Wolf... Can't you take anything seriously?” Ryalt grit his teeth, his finger now radiating with a discomforting heat. At any moment he could let the spell fire and end the thief's life.
“Is that what you want? For me to dignify your selfish betrayal, by adjusting my tone and giving you eye contact?” Wolf made obvious effort to make himself sound serious, mocking Ryalt with the same finesse he had given the mage since they became allies. Wolf placed both hands on the table, and went to spin himself around in his chair, only to be interrupted.
“Don't you move!” Ryalt released the energy from his fingertip – the small ball of fiery energy connecting with Wolf almost instantaneously after it gained motion. The spell burst into multiple blazing explosions that tore through the room and cast everything into an inferno. When the initial flames cleared Ryalt looked around frantically to see if there was anything left of Wolf to be identified. Slowly the mage took a step forward, but hesitated upon the feeling of something sharp upon his neck.
“You don't want me to sit, but you don't want me to stand,” Wolf let out an entertained laugh, pressing the prongs of his fork to make an impression on Ryalt's neck. The spell had seemingly missed him entirely – not even a trace of fire damage on his person – and his plate of meat, which he balanced carefully in his right hand. Wolf's smiling expression melted into one of obvious disappointment, while Ryalt's became something akin to the possum's, “So cruel to your only friend in the world.”