The night sky was concealed by a thin layer of wispy clouds, enough to obscure the faint silver light from the moon. It was a perfect night, by Sacri's standards. The rival eye of the White Lady was prevented from watching him on nights such as this.

Moving swiftly through the darkness, the Elfish prince strode through the valley outside Sanas, the capital city of Riko, the new land of the Elves. He was alone and free, exactly how he liked to be. Nights like this one were the times when Sacri really lived.

Muttering the dark Elfish words that would prompt the magic flowing through his veins and in the air surrounding him to manifest itself around him, Sacri began to turn in a circle, his eyes closed as his hands wove an invisible web in the air.

He reveled in the feeling of the dark golden power flowing through his fingers and out into the night air. He was free, free of the chains that Tulca Upens wrapped around him by day, under the bright light of the sun.

But the slight breeze tugged at the clouds hiding the silver face of the moon, soon revealing her soft white light. Sacri winced, flinching away from the sudden rays.

He allowed the magic he had been toying with to fall, releasing his Streaks from his mental control. The wisps that granted him his ability to practice magic fell back into a relaxed state and Sacri doggedly began to make his way home. The night was ruined.

Sanas came into view shortly as Sacri prepared himself to enter the sleeping city. His abnormal wielding of the Elfish magic had spawned many rumors to go flying around Sanas, causing the Elves to whisper about him and his supposed use of black magic, the dreaded dark power that only some were daring enough – or simply, foolish enough – to tap into.

Those rumors were true.

Sacri had embraced the ways and rituals of black magic, a new, emerging dark art. It had been growing in popularity among certain groups of young Elves. The dark magic called upon a previously untapped side of the mysterious Streaks, bathing the wielder with new strength and power and granting them unnatural abilities.

It was shunned by the majority of Elves, especially the higher born ones. That was why it had been such a shock for the rumors to begin to fly about Sacri's acceptance of those who practiced it. That had led to him learning the new form of magic and becoming quite proficient in its ways.

Leaving behind the light magic he had been taught back in his youth, Sacri had willingly become part of the black magic movement. Due to his high standing in Riko, he had become unofficially the leader of the cultic group, to the dismay of his parents and to the anger of his younger brother.

Sacri passed into the city of Sanas, noting its quietness. The shadows danced and flickered by the edges of the pathways to Tulca Upens, the royal estate, and Sacri walked right on the edge of them, enjoying the visual effect of the flashing darkness before his eyes as he moved.

It seemed in no time at all that the walls cutting Tulca Upens off from the rest of the city were looming before him. The gatekeeper allowed Sacri in and the prince strolled down the path towards the majestic structure that was the palace.

Warm, yellow light greeted him on opening the door. Sacri headed through the corridors, hoping to reach his bed chambers without incident. His new allegiance to black magic had not gone over well with his parents and brother and they disapproved of it.

But as he reached the corridor that would lead him to his chambers, he ran into Feli, who was walking down the hall toward him. His younger brother's eyes widened on seeing him, and then narrowed. He kept on his path, only coming to a stop when he was right in front of Sacri.

"So," he said, his silver eyes the spitting image of the moonlight Sacri heartily despised. "I see you have returned from your dark walk, brother."

Sacri jerked his chin down, once, his eyes fixed on his brother the way he would regard a poisonous snake. "What of it?"

"Why do you ask the question when you know the answer, as plain as day?" Feli hissed, anger clouding his eyes and features. "You know what you are lending your mind to is false and evil. And yet you continue to throw yourself into the act. Why do you do this? Why do you bring what is foul out of the darkness and into the kingdom?"

Sacri scowled, pulling himself up to his full height. There was not much difference in height between he and Feli, but the slight inch that placed him below his brother in stature was no help to him when in an argument. It was reflex, now, to straighten whenever angry words were exchanged with his brother.

"I fail to see how this is any of your business," Sacri snapped. "For it is not."

"Is it?" Feli forced through gritted teeth. "Is it? It is, Sacri. For you have sponsored evil and are allowing it to thrive in Riko instead of uprooting it like the tender shoots of the eil. You have not shown the proper judgement of a prince of this fair country, and are soiling it with your unrepentant ways. And when I think that someday, someday you shall rule it – nay, brother. I shudder to think of that day. As a prince, as one who sees clearly what path you tread, I cannot help but see that it is my business!"

Sacri shook his head. "You lack my years, Feli. You still see through the haze of childhood. Your gaze is distorted, and therefore you cannot judge of my actions truthfully. Leave it alone, brother. You cannot understand it."

Feli scowled, his eyes livid at the insult. He had grown way beyond the years of childhood and both brothers were well aware of that. "I have left the days of childhood long behind, Sacri. I judge from a firm position of knowledge and experience. And yes, I do not understand your dark rituals but I don't have to understand them perfectly to know they are wrong! And I am wiser than you to see that."

"Leave it alone, Feli," Sacri said quietly. "My life is mine."

"No," Feli growled. "It is not. You are to be king, which means your life is Riko's and your people's. Not yours. Never yours."

Feli turned and stalked off as Sacri's eyes blazed, preparing for a retort he never got the opportunity to fire at his brother's receding back. So he just stood in the corridor, fuming, until he finally opened the door to his chambers and went inside.

"My life is mine," he told himself, the words almost without sound. "It is. It is mine."

/**/

So there was your introduction to the tale of Sacri and Feli! What did you guys think so far?

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Skylar Wittenborn