Black Reign

Prologue

After almost a decade of slaughter, I would have thought myself attuned to the quaint feeling of blood caked beneath my fingernails, yet, it seems that I am not. There is something about it tonight that sends a revolting chill running up my spine, through my fingers and around my throat as the wind prods and plays at my hood.

Around me, the streets are scarce. Moonlight descending in shafts of silver that reflect off my pale hood. It casts me as a beacon to whatever criminals and local townsmen dare lurk in the shadows. It bothers me not. I have proven myself a threat enough tonight.

By my feet lay two mangled bodies sprawled on the concrete slabs of the courtyard leading to a walled Dinshei fortress at my back. Their necks are twisted, skin hanging loosely from their bones. Tears streak down their cheeks where my bejewelled, silver claws had etched bloody lines through both mens' skin, spilling a thick scarlet liquid to the floor that had rebounded from the cobblestone streets and now rests upon my boots.

I take little notice of the blood matted to the bottom of my shoes, the footprints they forge as I take a step closer. Another. Until I can stare down at the faces of the two men I have just murdered.

Both are of lean build with almost identical features. Brothers. I recognise them from around my guild's complex and have seen their faces frequently, but never have I conversed with them. Their hair is messy and dark. Their eyes, if it weren't for the shade of twilight, would have been a striking gold that looked perfect against their sun-bronzed skin. Across their chests stretching to their waists are straps that crisscross their bodies, holding weapons beneath a traditional white Sayaadi overcoat that glimmers weakly in the moonlight. It is not the weapons I have come for, though. Nor is it the blood-stained fabrics that dress their bodies, but what lies beneath.

I crouch, the silver attached to my hands flexing as I reach into the necklines of my targets' shirts. My fingers find cool metal and curl around two chains on either's neck that clink against each other softly as I fist them in my palm. A soft tug is all that is needed to remove the blessing from them. I am damning them to hell in some sorts. The Sayaadi are on Maldara's side, and by removing the necklaces I have condemned them to the Underworld.

As I stand, moonlight bathes my hands and I drape the four chains across my palm. Before I study what I know is already there, I move my free hand. With the tip of a clawed index finger, I etch a clean X in the space between their brows then return my attention to the necklaces. The emblems are clearer than day to any with the right mind to learn. While two of them bear the stunning emblem of the Sayaadi, the remaining showcase the Dinshei.

My fingers trace the elegant designs with a feather-like touch. The claws hooked over my fingers would no doubt mar the beautiful material if given time, so I take each by their chain and slip them into my pocket.

Traitors.

The word rings through my skull, rebounding off bone in an unbroken cycle of torment until I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Two of the Sayaadi have betrayed me this night. Five the previous week...I can only pray that no more will follow, for if they do...

I shake my head again and shift my gaze to the abandoned fortress before me.

Moonlight warps the dull, lifeless colour of concrete to an ominous silver that pierces my eyes with concealed daggers. Pain shoots through my lids, down to the base of my skull where it dissipates. Chills snake through my arms and I bite my cheek's inside as I survey the abandoned complex.

Four long, thin towers elongate from the fortress' rounded middle. A wall of concrete encapsulates the fortress before another concerete slabbed entrance leads to it. Subtle slits in the rock catch my attention, setting something alight in my veins.