Bottom of the Bottle

Nathaniel Alabaster awoke with a start. He scanned his room but could find no reason he would be jolted from his sleep. To be certain he lit the torch on the opposing wall with a muttered, "Fira." The warm orange glow cast no further illumination on his troubled slumber. His black cloak and robe were still where he had flung them, over the back of the chair, the night before. He could see the comforting form of Jezekiel in the corner of the room. The panther gave a snort to indicate that he too was awake.

"What is it Jez?" Nate questioned his familiar.

"Trouble," the ebony animal grunted.

"You sense it as well then?" the magician nodded slowly.

In typical giant cat fashion Jez made an "hrmph" noise and settled back down. Nate, on the other hand, rose from his large bed and walked to the still black window. He gazed out over the darkened garden that his tower room faced and wondered. The panther hadn't seemed too concerned. Although that just told Nate that the magician and familiar weren't the ones in danger. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was coming.

Nate grabbed his cloak and robes. He dressed quickly and left his room. As he stepped into the hallway he called fire to his left hand to guide him.

"Morning Mage," a gruff voice called as Nate made his way through the castle.

Nate turned and found himself facing Torin, the captain of the King's guard. The captain seemed to be coming from the kitchen maid's chambers. Nate tried not to sneer in disgust. The maid could be no more than ten and six, while the captain had already achieved seven and thirty.

"Just headed to the dungeons, Captain," Nate explained quickly in his low, soothing voice.

"What for?" the older man demanded. Nate hated having to answer to this swine, but was not allowed to turn him into a pig.

Nate called upon all the patience his three and twenty years had given him and replied, "I couldn't sleep. Sometimes the screaming soothes me."

The magician gave a sly smile as he watched the captain start at his words, nod a gruff approval, and scurry away. Nate sometimes enjoyed being evil. He continued on his way undisturbed. It wasn't often the guards spoke to the King's "evil wizard". Nate fostered the image to keep it that way. He found the blanched skulls that lined his walls a small price to pay for the privacy.

Nate did do some wicked things, he never lied about that. The blanched skulls did belong to many of the men that Nate had killed for his King. He was, however, counting the days until the King was overthrown, murdered, and his much kinder son took the throne. 64 more.

The constant screeching from the dungeon stopped abruptly as soon as the black mage stepped into the open. He tried to ignore the immensely frightened eyes that followed his every move. He was fighting the urge to turn around and yell, "Boo!" As soon as Nate realized he was an evil man, he turned around and did just that. The darkly handsome wizard gave a satisfied smile as the wailing began again in earnest.

"Hello there Nate," the head torturer, Smee, nodded politely as Nate approached.

"Smee. Having a good morning?" Nate raised an eyebrow at the gore covering the naked man.

"Have to love what you do. Right, Evil One?" Smee laughed good naturedly.

"Right-oh Smee." Nate agreed and promptly walked through the stone wall next to the other man.

"See you later then," he heard the man call after him.

Nate truly liked Smee. He thought it a little odd that he did his job nude, but who was he to judge?