10-05-2013, 03:59 AM
There was still, at the very least, two hours length of time left until his penultimate service of the day. Most citizens tended to stay home past the dimming of the sun, not wanting to venture out into the twilight for fear of what may be thriving in the shadows, what horror lurked beyond the scope of their vision. Kaled resisted the urge to giggle - it was unbecoming for a warlock of such standing to giggle like a teenaged girl - but he did allow himself a small smile. More than what Mother would have permitted though she had disallowed the expression of any emotions.
It wasn't right for power to be tainted by mortal feelings. Or that was what she had taught him. She herself had not been one to follow her own teachings, giving in to anger or hatred or self-righteousness far too easily and far too often. Absently he traced patterns onto his skin. A casual observer would think it to be a random assortment of lines, but to Kaled - to him, his fingers were trailing along tendrils of memory, brushing past moments when Mother had been unable to restrain herself...
He cast the thought from his head. The past was the past for a reason and it was petty to dwell on happenings from so long ago. No, he must keep to the present, look to the future, for that was were his mind was needed.
With a wave of his mental hand he had the plate and cup wash themselves in the sink which had conveniently been turned on, scrubbing and drying and floating back into the cabinet to be used again later in the evening. He had only one personal set of dishes, the rest for guests to use should they find themselves in his church and needing a meal. Though occasionally the visitor would find themselves staying longer than they had intended.
The woman in the former crypt had been such a person. Kaled couldn't resist - she was the ideal sacrifice, fit and kind and wise beyond her years. A pure air about her. Human. Travelling across different countries, needing a place to stay, anywhere that could put her up for little or no cost whatsoever. So she found herself at his doorstep just as the last of the congregation had dispersed, driving back into their comfy little ignorant lives.
Now she was lying on his alter - though not the one in public view. Her life's liquid had spread across his sigil, giving power to his God. He had been kind and killed her quickly, a quick line across the throat from ear to ear. A smile to match the one she had when they first met. He had done the rest of the work post-mortem, sparing her the added suffering. Sentiment.
Mother would've been so disappointed.
But Mother is gone, spirited away by the shadows she once commanded. The same cannot happen to you, Kaled. Not with your destiny, not with your promise, not with the skill that you wield your talents. The darkness is your friend, your tool, your master.
And with it I shall be reborn into a higher being.
It will only be a matter of time. I just need the one, the perfect sacrifice to be spread under my fingers and then - only then - will I be given what is so rightfully mine.
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