Memory and Oblivion-Prologue by Alexander New

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He had found it in an antediluvian spellbook belonging to a bone elf spellcaster of unimaginable power, the Broken King. But what made the spell that Sephalus had recently disovered so effective were two things: The first was that, assuming a compulsion similar to the one Sephalus had cast was used, the spell and its effects were completely were completely silent. The second was that the spell left no traces besides dust from the remains of the skeleton. Additionally, the spell used the target's body energy as the fuel for the spell instead of the caster's energies, so even a mage of middling power like Sephalus could cast it.
The Speaker then went crazy. He began ripping and tearing his clothes, and in a few minutes stood stark naked in front of Sephalus. He seemed to have a morbid fascination with watching himself die bit by bit.
And still the spell worked its way up his body. It had progressed to the Speaker's upper legs, and only bone remained from where it had passed. The spell also caused intense pain on anything it was used on, but again the compulsion prevented the Speaker from crying out.
"Lord Speaker? Are you well? I'm coming up." The guard's voice had the same nervous quality all guards seemed to have, but for whatever reason, he seemed to have decided to interfere with the greatest assassination in the history of Elvane. His footsteps could be heard walking up the stairs now.
I will have to be quick, thought Sephalus, he must not cry out. He drew five long throwing knives. Behind him, the Speaker continued to die. The skin and muscles on his arms were already melting away, and there was nothing left of his stomach, lungs, or heart. He would not die though, until only his eyes and bones remained.
"Lord Spe-" the guard had stuck his head around the corner, and was immediately hit by three of the five knives that had been drawn from their hidden sheaves. As quickly as lightning, Sephalus dashed over to the guard's body and retrieved the knives from the body. They came lose with a wet sucking sound, and were dark with blood. Then he ran over to the other two knives that hadn't hit the body. All were distinctive, and it would not do to have them recognized by some sharp-eyed guard.
He turned around and saw that the Speaker was dead. He carefully plucked the Speaker's eyes from their bony sockets, taking care not to accidentally squish them, and put them in a specially designed pouch. His master had wanted them for some reason that Sephalus didn't know. He then tapped the skeleton, and it crumbled into dust.
He decided it was now time to raise the alarm, and shouted, "Guards! Guards! Come quickly, the Speaker has been murdered!"
When the guards came rushing in to the room, Sephalus adopted a mournful expression and related the explanation he had prepared earlier. "The Speaker and I were conferring on a matter of great importance, when a cloaked and masked figure teleported in to the room. With a word, I was paralyzed, and after several more, the Speaker was disintegrated." He motioned to the pile of dust next to him.