[hider=Fantasy starter. 1st person Present tense][i]It called my name again last night. In my dreams, as it always does. I stood in the darkness once more, the only light around me. The dark voice called my name. I felt the icy hands of my awaiting fate grasp my arm and I turned away, my eyes closed to the void as the shadow of my contract wrapped its coils around me. When I opened them, I was sitting awake in my bed. After so many years, so many times, I simply sat there; my breath was already calm. How much longer can I turn away from my destiny? How many more times can I ignore the pull of the shadow bound to me?[/i]

My eyes are closed when I sigh and wave my hand. The words once swirling in the air as smoke float to the waiting tome on the ebony polished wood desk. The candles sitting atop the high ledge lining the stone room flicker to life in a sweeping motion from behind my bed, heading in both directions around the round room until both waves meet above the desk. The words whisper back to me, repeating back my words as each seals itself onto the ashen paper. Another wave of my hand and I can hear the pages riffle as the book shifts closed then vanishes as shifting smoke. Although, I may not know the exact repercussions that might come about from that book leaving my possession, I cannot risk finding out. The others would not understand, our enemies could find a way to use it against me and, thus, my kin - those two things I was sure of.

I stand and hold out my arms. Smoke appears from thin air in wafts to sweep over my lithe body and form a spectral robe over my sable nightgown. A fire flares to life to flicker as indigo flames lick at the wood and chases away the whispers of the shadows the candles had cast into the room. Smoke rolls off the bottom of the robe as I glide to the window to look out onto the starless night.

The wind dances all the way up to my high tower window and plays with my long, chestnut hair; the full length of my wavy tresses tossed around behind me. I draw in a deep breath; the air smells like earth, brimstone, and morning dew. My eyes narrow; magic.

There is a knock on the thick arched door of my room. I turn and wave my hand toward the hearth. The fire pops and the flames reach higher as they change to reds and oranges and yellows fighting for dominance. My eyes fix on the door as the spectral robe solidifies, hiding my voluptuous figure from shoulder to ground. "Enter." With that one word, the door latch shifts and it creaks open the slightest crack.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mistress Keaira," Barid's soft voice comes into the room before he pushes the door open more. "We have just received a message for you."

"What of it?" My voice is as tight as my smooth face; my temper short from the stolen sleep.

"You are requested to meet with the one known as The Overseer. There is need of your gifts.
Darkness -."

"I will learn of my needs when I arrive," I snap at first. I draw in a breath to return the graceful, nearly seductive melody to my voice, though I keep authority there all the same. "Go to the stables and have my horse readied."

Barid bows and shuts the door. Deep, rumbling laughter fills my room from the ghost of memory. I feel the icy grip upon my shoulder yet again, each finger curling around my arm as cold breath brushes my cheek.

I look to the flames in my hearth and tighten a fist. The fire roars higher, flames stretching into the flute. The shade vanishes from my presence and the laughter dissipates. The amber flames dance, reflected by my eyes as I stare at it. I can feel the natural cobalt blue of my eyes replaced by black, reflecting my mood.

Of all the things to take with me on a journey to the Overseer, I was bringing my dark contract for that is what would be needed as my part of the deal. Without it, my skill with blades and inherent magical ability would fail eventually.

I lace up my black suede pants and leather swordswoman bodice of blue with black accent, worn over a black shirt. I buckle on my sash-belt, part hanging above and part hanging below my right hip - the top holding a few pouches and the lower hosting a sheath for a stiletto dagger - on the left, my long sword hangs. My duelist boots complete the outfit and I fasten my blue and black quartered cloak around my shoulders.

One hand grabs my foot long twisted onyx wand engraved with glowing silver runes. The fingers of the other hand dance the single handed pathways to close and seal every drawer and extinguish every flame, lock every book into place on my shelves and secure every loose paper to my desk. I cast one last look to the darkened room. A shadowy face smiles back at me and laughs silently. My eyes narrow once more as I shut the door, closing off the way for my demons to look at me. For now.
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