A dark skyline blanketed the horizon like a surreal watercolor painting. He stared out a dusky landscape from his office situated in a shabby looking downtown building.
Raymond Matheos, Mage, Spellslinger...Murderer.
To sum the man up most accurately, the derogatory "Warlock" term could be applied. He was hardly the classical image of a Wizard. For one, he was a fairly young man, just pushing thirty, he wore common slacks, a t-shirt and a black hooded jumper. His hair was a greasy mess and he was growing quite an impressive homeless beard.
He did what he could to make ends meet and to pursue his own interests, but times were tough, to say the least. The modern worlds economy had little to no bearing on Arcane practitioners, it was mainly the indebted servitude to a Vampire Lord that kept Ray so firmly pinned in misery and on the fringe of utter destitution.
A cigarette dangled from his lips, a vice he could not quite kick. He could not remember the last time he had slept through the night, or even had enough time, asides from his work and the demands of Kaeli, to pursue a hobby.
He felt anger bubbling up inside him when he thought about it, but he just had to close his eyes and will it away. Anger gave rise to dark forces inside a Mage, and Ray was no stranger to Occult, Black Magics.
The guilt of that association would likely never leave him, and when it had all come to a stunning and dramatic crescendo, he had lost everything and what he had gained...well, he wished now that he had let the Mage's Council execute him.
He rubbed his sore, tired eyes as he stubbed his cigarette out on his overflowing ashtray and grabbed his overcoat.
The day was done, at least in the office. When the sun set and the moon shone, Ray had other work to attend to. Kaeli's work. That damnable Vampire Lord who kept Ray on a leash. Ray was a hell of a spellslinger, but he had nothing on Kaeli's power. Even so, he was a shadow of his former self. His links to nature's magical energies were frayed ever since he had...he really didn't like to think about it.
It had cost him everything he knew to care for.
The council, his innocence, his powers...her.
He stepped out onto the sidewalk and breathed in the lightly chilled night air. He often had bad feelings about the night, but on this one in particular, it was almost palpable.