A tall man clad in black and ochre robes exited a building in the crisp morning air, exhaling small clouds of steam. There was now light in the sky, and the conjured mist had dispersed, so the town gave off a less malicious ambience. Already the sounds of people filled the air, a baker nearby yelling at an apprentice for being late, guards being scolded for having fallen asleep at their posts. A sly smile spread across Aethilfirth's face. He was the source of their slight misfortunes, but they would never know it, and he would never confess to it.
Aethilfirth raised the hood of his dark robe, returning his face to shadows, and proceeded down the main thoroughfare towards the edge of town closest to the forest. Faces of commoners twisted in his direction as he approached, but with a slight manipulation of his fingers he summoned enough power to disregard their curiosities. Such suggestion in the minds of those lacking considerable will power was easy, not requiring the same level of power or pronounced ritual as the magic he had invoked the night before. So the stranger walked unmolested through the streets of the small town.
Within a scant few minutes Aethilfirth had come in sight of the gate, and his fears lessened somewhat. Though there was very little chance anyone in such a remote town could rival his power, there was always the tiniest possibility of encountering a gifted natural, someone possessed of power and able to channel it without any proper training. Even this did not overly concern him, but the stories and rumours generated by a wizard's appearance, let alone a battle, would draw far too much attention. He was a stranger for a reason.
Magicians across the realm were relatively few in number, not because there was a lack of talent or power amongst the populace, but because few could pass the rigorous tests and trials to be accepted into the ranks of the learned. In fact, rumours circulated among the commoners that the magicians were creatures, somewhat akin to vampires or ghouls, and required fresh meat human to sustain them. Of course, there were in fact a few creatures possessed of magic that preyed on the living, eating and dismembering any the happened across, but they were not schooled magicians, they were naturals who had transformed. The manner of transformation was of course entirely varied, some resulting from attacks by pre-existing magical creatures, others through the success, or failure, of a particularly difficult spell. The Guild of Magicians had all such creatures catalogued and kept under surveillance. Even the might of the Guild could be threatened by enough magical beasts and transformed naturals.
In addition to surveilling the creatures of the realms, they also enforced restrictions of magic use. Namely attempting to prevent naturals experimenting with their gifts outside of Guild controlled schools. As such all large cities contained a wizard bastion, a slender tower crewed by as many as five registered wizards and ensorcelled with a plethora of runes for detecting magic. From this vantage the wizards could bring their fury down upon any foolish enough to risk a conjuring. On the whole, this plan worked however in recent times those gifted with a reasonable control and a fear of the Guild schooling simply fled the cities and practiced their newfound powers in secluded towns or wilderness regions.
Aethilfirth quickened his pace, needing to lift the stench of people from his nostrils, longing to again be among the trees. As he approached within a stones throw of the gate, it began to close. At the rate the guards moved, they would finish sealing the gate before he had covered half the distance. Fear of exposure now drove his actions, raising a hand he summoned power enough to hold the portal open and to once more divert suspicion away from himself. As his fingers finished carving the ethereal runes of power, they dissipated. The stranger quickly scanned the crowd, looking for the purple robes of the Guild, but finding nothing.
A tall, slender woman stepped out from the crowd. She was beautiful. Long honey coloured hair cascaded over an ornate breast plate, she must have been one of the senior defenders of this place. Before Aethilfirth could question how she had recognised his power, she answered by drawing two purple runes in the air with hands. As she finished the runes chains sprouted from the ground, binding Aethilfirth in place. A natural.
"What business have you, Magician?" She spat the last word at him, as though it tasted of bile. Without waiting for an answer she readied another symbol in midair, red this time. "I have no patience for Guild scum; I have no intention of abandoning my people."
Aethilfirth let out a grating laugh, harsh enough to stun the woman threatening him. She retreated a step, but maintained focus on the spell she had readied. The crowd had all but scattered after the woman's show of power, leaving the two magic users in an empty street. "You are either blind or an idiot. Do you see the purple of the Guild anywhere about my person? You stupid wench!"
Without pausing to let the woman cry more accusations, Aethilfirth stepped through the chains. The female guard's mouth dropped as he simply disregarded her bindings and at once let fly her next spell. Fire blossomed from the red runes, launching through the empty street and utterly enveloping the stranger. Sweat beaded down her forehead, but she maintained the conflagration for several long seconds. At last, utterly spent, she dropped to one knee.
"Do you honestly believe that would be enough to topple a true Magician?" The woman threw her gaze up to the black mass in front of her, smoke still billowed from it. The smell of burned flesh reached her nostrils, she was certain her spell had annihilated the man. Then the black mass took shape once more. The charred surface broke into four limbs, a body and a head. It raised itself on what appeared to be legs, the black slowly transforming to red. Aethilfirth's skin was reknitting itself at impossible speed, reforming his body from the blackened remains that had lain on the ground moments before.
"You truly were the latter," He exclaimed.
"W-w-what do you mean?" Horror gripped the woman's face, and yet somewhere she found the force of will to bring words out.
"You are an idiot."
Silver returned to Aethilfirth's eyes. Without any gesture or verbalisation he summoned power to himself, unleashing a beam of harsh fluorescence which arched straight through the woman's body. Blood gushed from the wound in her abdomen and she clasped hands to her stomach to prevent anything more than blood escaping. The woman fell over onto her side, gazing up into the sky.
The stranger trudged over to the body lying prostrated before him, and gazed down into her face as life left her. Tears clouded her eyes and her mouth gaped, unable to cry out the pain inside her. Slowly he knelt down and reached for her wound, cupping his hands and scooping up her lifeblood. Raising his hands to his mouth he drank their contents, letting crimson stain his face. When he stood once more his hands carved purple light into the air before him, conjuring his armour and clothes about his body, as though no damage had ever been dealt to him. After retrieving his sword and securing it to his back, he blasted the town gate from its hinges with another blast of eldritch energy, and continued out into the forest once more.
Villagers and guards poured back into the street to examine the woman's body, and render what aid they could. By the time their physicians reached her, she was gone. Now hushed rumours of vampires and the Guild spread around the town. Fear permeated every corner of every rumour. What act of reprisal would the Guild enact for harbouring a natural?
Aethilfirth collapsed to the ground in the forest clearing he had used the previous night, pain and revulsion overwhelming him. Retching up the blood he had swallowed, he thanked the gods it had not been a Guildsman in the town. It was deplorable that he had killed the village's magic protector, but she had attacked him, and he could not allow any information about him to reach the Guild. The villagers had witnessed what had transpired, but they saw a vampire not the mysterious, silver-eyed stranger, and that would be sufficient enough to cover his tracks. Next time he would have to further refine his runes when examining a town for magical power, although he attributed his failure to the sheer volume of power his new benefactor possessed. After emptying his stomach onto the grass he set up camp on the opposite side of the clearing and began preparing some food. His new task would be long, and he need not leave hurriedly and make more mistakes the day.