Scene-Setting Music: "Dark Egyptian Music-Mists of Egypt" (Fantasy & World Music by the Fiechters)
Though merely a crescent moon this night, its light from high above shone over the desert kingdom like a freshly minted coin, a blanket of night and twinkling stars wrapping itself above the city and the people within. Below in the surrounding towns, lights began to flicker out as families tucked their children into warm safe beds, the day's tasks brought to a close. The soldiers quietly walked through the sandy streets; aside from those seeking to roister in pubs and alleys—not to mention those seeking more personal entertainments with a madam's ladies—the streets were calm and peaceful. Even the royal guards within the castle, men and women sworn to the protection of the Sultan and Royal Family, felt their edge blunted this night by the refreshingly warm air and tranquility. In short, there was no need for concern or worries, vigilance able to be relaxed if just for one night.
It only made things blessedly easier for the young man currently prowling through the marbled halls.
Making it to the Princess's private bedchambers, Lucien placed one gloved hand on the door, only to swiftly draw it back with a wince. While it seemed she temporarily disarmed the silent alarm spells, the wards were still in place; even with enchanted gloves and a moment's contact, it felt like he had touched lightning. Small wonder there were no guards; any solid contact would reduce a would-be assassin to ash without disturbing the royal slumber. Fortunately, though the mage taught everything she currently knew about warding and protective magics, he hadn’t even come close to teaching her everything he did. This he swiftly proved by pulling out a long raven strand of hair, plucked from Isis’s head during her swordplay lesson (or really his, since she was the Blademaster; that hair had nearly cost him a hand). Having a personal item was essential for a tracking charm, and the spell he had in mind he calculated would be strong enough to place him right next to the Sultan’s daughter.
Normally sedate robes of blue with a dash of silver were replaced with richly crafted robes of deep crimson, stitched golden flames dancing amidst obsidian that literally swirled as if the fire was real. A quick glance at a silver mirror before the teleportation cast a reflection of the archetypal evil sorcerer from childrens' tales, seeking to corrupt and ruin all at the command of his infernal lords. Since Isis wanted this to be authentic--and peering at the door to ensure she wasn't in hearing--the brown-eyed male gave a practice evil laugh.
"Hm hm hmm...feh."
The would-be dark mage sighed. That just sounded odd. It lacked true villainy, like a child half-remembering a particularly jaunty tune. He tried again.
"Hyoh hyoh!"
His reflection looked cross. Still no good. The rough textured croak was more fitting a thirsty hag than a malevolent sorcerer. And what inspired him to go "hyoh"? This time, he took a deep breath, drawing in from the gut for a true try.
"HA HA HA HA HA!!"
Lucian nodded in approval. That was a laugh. Powerful and confident, with just enough cackle to show he was a bit unbalanced and seriously dangerous, but not enough to make him utterly insane.
Muttering a chant to have his hands and body wrapped in thick obscuring black mist, the newly minted diabolist appeared right in front of the startled royal. Lucien fixed a wicked smile on his face, eyes raking Isis up and down in a shamelessly lascivious manner (an effect slightly blunted by the hot blush on his cheeks). While he may have been the sorcerer, it was the Sultan's daughter who was hotter than the desert. Immediately getting into his role, the mage schooled his lips into a smug grin, his tone feigning offense as he stepped forward.
"It is very late, Princess Isis. And the guards sworn to your safety have all gone. Do you not know the threat of the night, or do you simply choose to ignore it in hopes bored diabolists decide to visit?"