“Tell me, what has become of the wolf you lost? Our mages wish to study what makes such an unusual specimen.”

“Vresige, your words are a pleasure to my ears. We have the family, it will come. It cares deeply, as such, it will not leave them in my care long. I will escort the creature posthaste when it is captured.”

“Well done. The Insurrection?”

A pause.

“Speak or I shall have your tongue.”

"They have disappeared. The city guard here has failed you, My Light. But they were punished accordingly. Do not fear. The Musk is guarded by my best. The traitors will have access to no more."

“Were I not at the border battling with fools, your head would be on a platter. I care not what has been done, only what you will do. After I have dealt with the Ikshim, Videlia will be wiped from the face of my world and rebuilt in my image. You better have the Wolf before such a time. Understand this, blood of mine. The mages have already paid for the wolf. They will have him.”

"Of course, Sire."

"Take delight in your father and bring to me the desires of my heart."

“Your wish is a delight to my ears, Vresige. It will be done as you have said."

The Blood Glass shattered as the voice cut off the connection, leaving but dust where an expensive artifact once lay.

Blood Glass is crafted by mages from a mixing of Essence with the golden glass of the Empire, creating a circular plate-like mold of a dark, almost amber gold—like that of a ray of sunlight piercing through a cloud—streaked with veins of blood red. It can hold some manner of power, thus allowing communication over vast distances. But after the power is spent? So is the crystal.

The man sat at a wooden desk stacked high with papers underneath a pale white ceiling.

A paper stared up at him with accusation in the wolf-man’s black eyes.

The commander picked up the drawing, studying the creature.

“You will be mine. Soon.”

A knock on the door interrupted the daydream of a power-hungry soul.

“Enter.”

A messenger in a red and brown tunic opened the door, closing it as he bowed.

“Commander Vex, the wolf remains in Videlia.”

The messenger ducked, avoiding a crystal glass that shattered upon the door, splattering amber liquid on the white wood.

“Dismissed.”

The messenger bowed, quickly scrambling out of the doorway, exiting with a sigh of relief only a Shifter would hear.

Back in the room, the man with a J-shaped scar seethed.

He rose, picking up a second glass and pouring a red liquid from a decanter.

“What are you doing in that paltry excuse for a soon-to-be dead city, Wolf? Come for your family. Come to me. We will be waiting.” He grins, remembrances of past blood painting his mind as red as the wine swirling in the clear crystal. “I will be waiting.”