Dried stalks of long dead grass bent and snapped under the pressure of Lucivar’s toes as he padded softly across the graveyard, raising small clouds of dust with each step.

He sighed.  He regretted climbing over the tall iron fence already. The puff of air seemed only to add to the depressing atmosphere created by the crumbling tombstones and lifeless trees. He would have said there were no birds or other life; but his eyes showed him a couple of scrawny crows glaring meanly at him from the branches of a nearby tree, and his ears told him that there were beetles and other small unpleasant things in the packed earth he was standing on.

A fantastic place for a fantastic adventure, he thought, hating this place more with every step. He stopped himself. Did I just say that? That’s not like me.

His stomach chose that moment to voice its complaints about not being fed recently. Ah, and that’s why. He stretched and scratched the back of his head, wondering where he could find something to eat. If there’s a graveyard here, that must mean there are some sort of inhabitants close by. He knelt by the closest gravestone and used his fingers to pry away some of the moss obscuring the name.

He couldn’t read it, but that didn’t surprise him very much. And if they bury their dead, they must be civilized enough. If I follow the fence, I should be able to find out where they live. His stomach growled again, as if telling him to hurry up.

He stood quickly and proceeded to continue along the imposing fence beside him, stopping once to leap over a large patch of dirt that looked like it had been dug up in the last few days. It gave him pause for a moment. It could almost have fooled him, and he was sure it was only due to his skills that he even noticed it. It was a very well-made trap, as he confirmed when he threw a stone hard into the center of the mound.  The sharpened poles at the bottom would have been most unpleasant.

He stopped himself again. They would have hurt like a bitch. That was better. His snarling stomach forced him to turn around and continue.

After several more minutes of the same dead grass, dead trees, dead things, Lucivar finally saw the gate rising up like an angry metal monster from the gritty air. But as glad as he was to see the gate, he saw something else that dampened the moment. Sitting like a king on the top of the towering gate, was a figure. A figure, which even that this distance, he could see was wearing copious amounts of the most unpleasant green and purple. He thanked every god he knew that he wasn’t wearing such bright colors.

As much as he knew the eyesore would try and interfere, he was only interested in one thing. He charged through the remaining graveyard towards the gate, determined not to stop. Unfortunately, the man on top of the gate saw him coming, and jumped down to land in front of him. Lucivar never slowed down, and launched himself over the surprised purple head.

When his feet touched the ground, he felt something small graze the last few inches of his tail. He jumped again, spinning to face his attacker, noticing the small drops of blood that trailed through the air in the wake of his tail. The scratch was shallow but several inches long, starting just where the silver band on his tail ended.

He felt a feral growl rising in his throat when he saw a small curved knife in the pale hand of the green-eyed man. He wasn’t used to seeing his own blood. The blood of others, certainly. He was used to the sight of blood, but it made him angry that he had been cut by someone without a reason.

He glanced at his attackers face, and was surprised to see a melancholy expression in residence there. But that didn’t stop him from barrelling straight into the man dressed in green. Lucivar knocked the small knife out of his hand and pinned him to the dusty ground with a knee on each shoulder.

His opponent didn’t even try to struggle, so Lucivar demanded to know why he’d been attacked.

“Because you are an animal. You killed without mercy, and you don’t have any conscience.”

Lucivar stared.

“Who are you to judge? I’ve killed for less. I’ve killed for more. Just because I can kill, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

He looked away. And suddenly felt a pain like fire spreading from the left side of his lower back. His eye’s met Orion’s and he felt something tear inside. Snarling, he leapt off of the purple-haired man, pulling the large knife out of his back by the handle. He knew the wound was deep, but he felt too much anger to feel pain. He did feel the blood traveling down his back, but he didn’t care. It wouldn’t make a difference at this point anyway.

He stood, shaking and waiting for his victim to rise. When he had done so, Lucivar flashed the bloodied knife between them, showing this man his blood.

He then raised the knife to his lips, without taking his eyes off the soon-to-be corpse. He ran his tongue from the handle to the tip, and swallowed.
“Say goodbye.”



Lucivar wiped his mouth. He couldn’t get rid of the awful metallic taste. He looked out the gate, and saw a couple of small shelters in the distance. He turned back into the graveyard, and headed for the center of the island again.

He wasn’t hungry anymore.