#saiel

He didn’t bother to knock, or even to try the door. Drawing his sword, he flung a burst of arcane energy at the door. It exploded inwards, showering the room within in shards of wood. Cievian followed after it. Saiel wasn’t in the living room, but the explosion had him lurching into the room while the mage stood, searching.

“The fuck--” The rogue’s protest was cut off by an icy wind. It drove him back against the wall, and Cievian followed in its wake. Saiel reached for a dagger, forgetting that he had stripped of all but his pants upon hitting the door to his room. He didn’t really have time to regret the decision before Cievian’s sword was at his throat, the mage leaning close enough that the sparks of energy around him caused Saiel’s skin to crawl.

“Give me one good reason that I should not see you dead.” The mages eyes, narrowed to slits, burned brightly with an excess of energy. He watched while Saiel struggled to think past the drunken haze that coated his brain, disgusted. With a snarl, Cievian backed away, watched the rogue relax, watched him think of going for his knives.  And struck out with the blade, opening a shallow cut clean from his hips to his shoulders.

Saiel staggered, falling away from the wall.

Cievian glared down at him, his hand clenching on the hilt of the sword. “The next cut won’t be so shallow. Stay away from him.” Without waiting for a response, he turned, heading for the ruined door.

An inarticulate yell behind him warned him of Saiel’s intent. The rogue, abandoning all subtlety and intelligent thought, pushed himself off the ground and charged Cievian from behind. The mage merely pivoted, sinking a fist full of pure arcane energy into Saiel’s gut.

Again, the rogue fell to the floor, spasming as the runes tattooed across his back attempted to absorb the energy. Again, Cievian turned his back on him.