New Home (open)

[Nena Bazzi]

Nena glided her way down the streets of Chicago. The world around her seemed to speed right by her in a whirl of colors as she moved at her slow pace. Her blue Egyptian cotton peasant shirt flowed and swayed above her ankles, showing off the brass bangles that chimed with each step she made on the cool concrete.

A blank stare on her face, void of all emotions as she traveled down the darkly lit streets. No one even bothered to look at her, mostly because she didn't want them too.

Death's Mercy had come to this Wyrm ridden city, the daughter of Sekhem... Her dark eyes looked over to a homeless man rattling a tin cup. She stopped in front of him, blocking out the rest of the world around them. She didn't have a coin to spare to him, however she had something else.

No one could see them, it was just her and the homeless man. Even though people passed them by, they were blissfully unaware. She stepped in front of him, his sad gray eyes looked up at her. She canted her head as she examined him. "A quarter to spare miss?" He asked of her, she slowly blinked at him.

This was the first time she had interacted with humans in such a long time. She noticed he was ridden with illness. She could feel the cancer inside of him, spreading. He would die soon, and his death would be painful.. He would suffer. She knelt down in front of him, looking at him. He gasped, noticing the twinkling sorrowful laughter that was hidden in her eyes.

She placed a hand on his forehead, "I will help you. All you have to do is close your eyes." She said to him in a quiet monotone voice. The man breathed heavily as his eyes closed, unsure what she was going to do, but he was compelled to do as she asked of him.

"Think of the place that brings you happiness." The man swallowed hard and gave a small nod. Her hand was warm on his cool forehead, she could feel his sweat pooling under her palm. She whispered something and a small golden light illuminated his forehead, a smile washed over his dirty face.

"Go there." She told him taking his hand into her free hand. "Let go of this world." She whispered to him, "Let go of your pain." She squeezed his hand gently, it was all power of the mind. At any moment a human could die, just by giving up on life. Something always held them here, whether it be family or just the instinctual need for survival. However this old soul of a man was going to die anyways... He just hadn't known consciously, however Nena was sure that deep in his gut he knew. The cancer wasn't treatable, perhaps if he was able to see doctors a few years ago, it wouldn't have been so.. but it wasn't the case.

Nena saw the purity of this man's soul, the kindness in his heart and the suffering of his body. She couldn't let him suffer anymore. He stood out from the fast pacing world because of his agony. She took mercy on this poor creature, his body became cold and limp as she felt the last flickers of life flee from him.

"You are free." She whispered once last final time as she leaned his body back on the wall, taking his tin cup from his hand and setting it down beside him. His eyes closed, a warm and peaceful smile on his face.

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, silently praying to the spirits to watch over his body until it could be properly buried. She slowly stood up and moved away from the body. She turned her head once to look back as she moved down the street.. Small gafling spirits guarded the corpse, like dutiful little soldiers.

It was enough for her, she lowered her blissful ignorance and became visible to the world once more. So did the man who she gave mercy too.

[Mozenrath]

"Chicago of all places. Why couldn't it be somewhere with a more...magical ring to it?" Mozenrath mused to himself.

"We find wizard, yes?" Xerxes, an eel-serpent-like beast slivered through the air and hovered by the male's head with a greedy smile plastered on his thick lips.

The Arabian garbed necromancer chuckled; but if one saw the look on his face, they would know he went over this with his pet numerous times-his patience was wearing very, very thin. "That's why we are here, Xerxes," he explained, slowly, "to find out where this Ministry of Magic is to get the prophecy we seek. It could be a way to ensure my future." Having a bizarre looking side kick sometimes wasn't beneficial but he at least did his job. Sometimes.

"Scout ahead," he commanded, "and report ba-"

"-master. There's two people ahead," he exclaimed.

The male smacked his gloved hand against his forehead and dragged it down his face. Why must he interrupt him mid-sentence? Why...?

"Not to worry," Mozenrath stated with confidence, "should we even be spotted I could easily distract her with a few ghouls-there's dead bodies everywhere." The irritation melted from his pale, youthful features when he noticed a soft light emitting from the woman's palm. A fellow magic user was roaming these parts? Fascinating...

It was then he sensed something: death. The old beggar was dead and the girl seemed to be responsible for the act. A delighted smile graced Mozenrath's lips, "Well, this is an interesting turn of events! I believe we may have a murderess in our presence."

Xerxes cackled maniacally when his master's glove emitted a red, fiery glow.

"Why don't we let her little friend explain how he really feels about this?"

The corpse would begin to twitch, after the flesh turned ashen grey, and rose to his feet. All the husk could do was raise his arms and rush to Nena whilst moaning.

"I suppose this will just be a test to see if she passes. I wonder what sort of magic she has in her possession to battle this?"

Mozenrath vanished in a flash of blue and reappeared elsewhere to watch...

[Nena Bazzi]

Nena could hear the spirit's screaming in her ear. Someone was tampering with the cadaver. Quickly she threw up her cloak, to hide her presence from the world around her, normal human eye could not perceive her existence, she spun her magic to outreach the cadaver, this way no human would ever be caught in the cross fight, or have to question their mundane existence. She would never take that away from them.

Her ears perked as she heard the moan, the body was nothing more than a zombie. An animated corpse. She had sent the soul to rest. Fury rose up inside of her as she stood still with her back towards the zombie. Why would someone do this? Why would someone disrespect the dead in such a fashion. Her brow crinkled slightly as she reached over her should and pulled a... string-less bow. She turned on her heels to and with a raise of her hand a ball of fire appeared. It swiftly transformed into a dragon like arrow, before she brought it up to the bone bow and pulled back on the imaginary string.

Her aim was undeniably accurate, but the arrow didn't burst through, only consumed. The creature was consumed in a bright amber and blue hue, before dissipating into ash. With a flick of her wrist the wind moved, carrying the ashes away to clear the scene of any evidence once her presence was gone.

Not once did her expression change, not once did seem to hesitate. She stood still after, statuesque. Her long ebony hair moved in the wind, she was incredibly unnatural looking. Dark hair and dark skin, but her facial features did not match. Her almond shaped eyes and sharp angular features, dictated she was from the Middle East, and yet her skin was as black as coal.

"Show yourself, or force me to expose you." She said out-loud, though her tone was flat and monotone.

[Mozenrath]

"Hm, well then," the necromancer grinned at Xerxes, "she has a lot of potential. I wonder if I could use her for a future task?" His faithful pet stared at him with a condescending smirk of approval, "Yes, but first, I need to see what more she can do." He swept out his gloved hand and vanished from sight.

Another flash of blue light would briefly blind her; and there stood the source of the body's reanimation coupled with Xerxes. Laughter rang in his tone whilst he replied to her statement: "Force? Really? You make it sound so easy to find one of my magic caliber." A smug grin graced his features, but soon turned into a disappointed frown at the sight of his ashed creation. It couldn't be helped considering how fragile his puppets were-that will change once he gets a hold of a magical artifact he's been seeking. Already he could taste the power flowing into his veins...

"He was useless anyways; but that aside, my condolences to his death-he was the only thing available to test you, if you will."

The serpent-eel let forth a strained cackle, which was swiftly stopped by a sharp punch from his master.

[Nena Bazzi]

She narrowed her eyes at the person standing before her, what he had done was against every fiber of her being. Taking away life that was suffering was one thing, but to animate the dead was an abomination against the order of things.

When he spoke she could feel her skin crawl, he had no idea what Nena was.. other than a potential useful tool, if she had known that was his plans for her, she would have taken his life force right where he stood. Her head canted to the side as she looked over him. "You think your magic is infallible?" It was not really a question, but a statement. All magic was infallible, none were perfect.

"You tainted his soul with such magic, raising the soulless dead in such a manner is a blight against creation and death. There are many ways to test a person's skill without involving the innocent." Her words were flat, but mentally Nena was cursing him. How dare he defile what she has set free. She paid no notice to his companion, her eyes solely focused on the monster who resurrected the dead. "Leave where the dead lie, no one has the right to defile the dead." She gripped the bow in her hands. "He earned his freedom, he earned his right to die in peace." How could he even fathom she was upset? Her tone never changed pitched.

[Mozenrath]

"Leave where the dead lie, no one has the right to defile the dead."

Mozenrath raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Xerxes-her words did nothing to phase the necromancer. After the two shrugged--well, Xerxes merely moved his deformed fins forward to mock his master's movements--he sighed, "I care not for the dead--if they are there and rotting, I see a use for them. I have an entire legion of undead at my disposal should I need them."

He disappeared in a flash and reformed behind her, flashing a playful, arrogant grin, "Allow me to introduce myself!" He swept his hands out and bowed briefly--and mockingly--at her, "I am Mozenrath: Lord of The Land of The Black Sand." He looked to his servant, blinked, straightened his posture, extended a hand in his direction, and said: "And Xerxes."

The eel grinned.

"I suppose you aren't familiar with these parts, hmmm?"

[Nena Bazzi]

He was using magic to appear and disappear. How clever. Surely though there was a pattern to his technique, if she could isolate the pattern she could predict accurately where he would turn up. Right now he was behind her.

She wasn't even startled when he spoke behind her, only turned on her heels to look at him. He was introducing himself, boasting like some arrogant prat. "I am Nena." Of course she could have went on her fancy titles and her deed name, but there was no need too. She ddin't see what purpose it would be as he would have no idea what all the words meant. Not only that, she wasn't much of a braggart.

"I am most familiar." She said to him, "Obviously you are not." Her hand trailed into her satchel. "Otherwise you would not brag. Lord of the Black Sands or not, you have no rights to tamper with the dead. I don't care of your opinion on such matters. Violate their rights and I will dispose of you. You do not impress me, you do not frighten me." She said as she grasped something in her green tattered pouch. "Do not tempt Sekmet." Sekmet, the Lioness headed Egyptian goddess of the dead and the goddess of mummification. Was she boasting to be such a creature? Or was she a servant... Mozenrath couldn't be sure.

[Mozenrath]

The mocking, if it was that, did not phase the male in any way. He hadn't heard of her, and therefore, felt it un-insulting to not be known. Why? Because, only recently, he began to venture from grounds that he found familiar to resume his quests. A bone chilling laughter erupted from Mozenrath-Xerxes laughed along, which was typical of such a sidekick, "Dispose of me? You make it sound so easy!" He folded his arms and rapped his fingers against his gauntlet, "But goddess or not, killing me would be an almost impossible task!" The ashes of the old man emitted a bizarre glow, formed up into a black ball, and flew straight into his now outstretched hand.

"But, I think I'll take his remains along with what remains of his now tainted soul. It's not that hard to bring one out of paradise," he stated with a smug, victorious grin. "Until then, Nena, farewell!" He grasped his cloak, threw it up, and vanished into the night. She may have her uses later. May. For now it was vital he found that wizard to locate the Ministry of Magic in order to grasp his prophecy.

[Nena Bazzi]

She quirked a brow at his laughter, somehow it seemed so... surreal and yet unreal. Like the most perfect villain from a fairy tale. She canted her head to the side as he tried his best to show off his magic, killing him would be impossible? Nothing is impossible, only improbable. His arrogance would be his undoing, Nena was sure of it.

Did he think that Nena would place such a soul in a common dwelling? Obviously. Removing the man from the Summer Lands which she had rested his soul would be far more difficult for him than he could imagine. If he did manage to take his soul from the Heroes Hall, he would find himself hunted from the world beyond what he knows or thinks he knows. Spirits of the dead did not like others tampering with their wards.. These spirits were not just wandering high ranked ghosts with nothing else better to do with their time, but living entities . Demigods and Jinns.

He bid her a farewell, so smugly as he vanished. Her eyes focused as she watched his magical signature. Everyone had one, including her. Each magic trace was unique to the user, and with her memory she could file away his mark like a photograph and store it away into the steal cage of her mind.

If she could have smirked, she would have... "What is lost shall be returned." She said as she held out her hand, which seemed to held out to nowhere. Somehow, like a force of it's own.. the ashes of the fallen homeless man returned to her hand, even though he was gone. "Don't fuck with a Strider." She whispered under her breath with the same stoic ambiance before turning and started her trail again to wherever her heart fancied.