The Battle

The Thief

The air was thick with the sound of sirens and radio chatter, the city streets illuminated by flickering red and blue lights as the police flooded out en masse. A criminal had been terrorizing both this area and even some of the surrounding towns for years, stealing a small fortune in valuables, and the desire to catch him had grown almost feverish. As such, any sighting of him, any whiff of his presence- as indeed there had been tonight- would draw out such a response.

From within his safehouse, said criminal- a small raccoon-cat, dressed all in black, with a bandanna around his neck- peered out and cackled. "Not tonight, boys. You really should take this as a cue to study!"

His moment of gloating done, Fritz stepped away from the window, muttering and gesturing to make sure the web of wards and illusions keeping this place hidden from view were still in place. Satisfied that they were, he let out a breath and made a sweeping gesture with his hand; his black clothes swirled and then flared out, turning into his more preferred outfit- long black cloak, brown hat, green scarf. That done, he grinned widely as he turned to the fruit of his night of larceny- a bulging sack in the middle of the floor.

Fritz cackled and rubbed his hands together. "Oh, I am gonna be eatin' good for a while!" It had been quite a haul- the cheapest item in there was probably a small statue worth about three months' rent (not that he paid rent, but it still counted), and it only went up from there. Small wonder the authorities and locals were out for blood at this point- but unlike them, the catcoon knew a few tricks that they couldn't work around. A few well-placed illusions and enchantments would trivialize even the most top-of-the-line security, and Fritz just so happened to be schooled in those very things.

Chuckling again, he stepped over and reached toward the drawstring at the top of the sack, ready to start cataloging his acquisitions and setting up the arrangements with his buyers- then seized up.

Being schooled in the magical arts, Fritz of course had access to knowledge that your average person knew little to nothing about, and one of his acquired skills was a sort of magical perception. The cosmos was full of magic of all sorts, and he'd constantly get bombarded with ripples from literally everywhere- in this plane and beyond- so it all tended to merge into a vague background noise, which like any pragmatic magician he'd learned to tune out for his own sanity. Something needed to be particularly loud to cut through the static.

And just such a thing was currently screaming. It was loud enough, encompassing enough, that for a moment, Fritz couldn't say anything, nor even move. Finally, he heaved a large breath, followed by several smaller, shakier ones, and staggered back a few steps from the bag, trembling. "Candles," he breathed, before pelting for the kitchen.

As fast as he could, the catcoon rummaged in the cabinets until he found six intact candles, which he set aside before quickly pulling everything off the dining room table. He filled a large mixing bowl with water and set it in the center, before placing the candles around it in a perfect hexagon. He spoke a quick word and gestured, and the candles instantly lit with a crackling sound. He then stared into the bowl, muttering a long incantation. For a long time, nothing seemed to happen... then, all at once, the flames turned a deep purple, and sparks jumped from all six to land in the bowl, where they were extinguished with tiny hisses- only for the water to turn deep black, looking almost like oil.

Fritz shook his head. "Just where are you..." he muttered. A big disturbance like this was rare, and it was even rarer that it would signal anything nice. He wanted to get a good look at it to gauge what to do. Especially because...

Fritz frowned deeply. It was very faint, but... he thought he could, just slightly, sense his friend Dion mixed in with the overpowering darkness. He had no idea what that might signify- but none of the possibilities were good. Deeply unnerved, he eyed the bowl with intense unease-

-only for it to begin to bubble, as if brought to a boil.

Fritz jumped- and then purple fire burst from the bowl, a great column that scorched the ceiling. He recoiled in shock, then immediately began screaming in fright, before frantically chanting and gesturing, his face wracked with panic.

There was a ripple from the water in the bowl- then it started to swirl as if running down a drain. The purple flames were rapidly sucked back downward. They continued to roar and crackle, as if struggling to climb upward, but ultimately shot back down into the vortex.

Fritz laughed nervously. He cleared his throat, then started chanting again, and the vortex stopped, the black liquid sloshing slightly for a bit before going still and clearing. The candles went out, then reignited with more typical orange-yellow flames.

Deeply unnerved, Fritz looked up at the scorch marks on the ceiling, grimacing. "That's gonna be a pain to fix..." He then looked again at the bowl. Whatever he was sensing did seem to be pretty dangerous- and had a pretty bad attitude.

His expression turned grim. "Really hope I didn't actually sense you, Dion," he muttered. "And if I did-"

The water in the bowl rippled, bubbled, frothed- and then burst into pink flames.

The catcoon recoiled with a startled cry, rapidly backing away from the table. "I thought I got rid of you?!" he cried.

There was a sudden slick, liquid noise- and then a circle of slightly lighter pink, with a slitted white oval in the center, slid in from the edges of the bowl, like an eyeball rolling in a socket. The contents of the bowl puffed up, forming a sphere of pink fire that rose smoothly from the bowl to float above the table.

He gaped at it, completely caught off guard- and then his face set, and he started chanting.

Immediately, the flaming sphere swiveled, and the eyeball trained its gaze on Fritz, the pupil dilating.

From the bowl beneath it, what looked at first like a gnarled tree branch shot up, quickly revealed to be a hand with slender, clawed fingers, snatching at the air- before flicking its fingertips in the catcoon's direction, launching droplets of greenish liquid at him.

The droplets hit Fritz' face, and he instinctively recoiled and sputtered in surprise and disgust- then let out a strangled grunt, his eyes popping, before his body seized up and he dropped to the floor.

He frantically looked in all directions, breathing rapidly- but his limbs were completely locked up, paralyzed like a statue's.

The slender fingers seemed almost to flex in triumph, before lunging forward and scooping the catcoon up.

Fritz moaned in distress. The hand was tightly squeezing, almost crushing him, but paralyzed as he was, he couldn't manage anything louder.

Without further delay, the hand shot back into the bubbling bowl, dragging its captive with it.

***