Albie fled into the streets and alleys of Yourz. The monster at the gait was not under his control and he feared what it would do to him or what killing it would mean at this point. Absorbing more unlife was not something he was eager to do. The wretched corpse was content with the rotting old guard. It would also satisfy itself on the corpses in the surrounding streets until someone came to check on the guard house tomorrow. If all went well it would kill a good many more orange coats before being destroyed. He sent a message consisting of his own morbid curiosity to one of the larger bees who flew back to keep an eye on the situation.
Albie hoped something would happen before the bee got to hungry. With all the excitement Albie lost concentration om his light channeling. His legs grew tired instantly without the magic to bolster them. He tripped and fell to the stone pavement. He also realized that in the stone walls of this dead city there was very little life force to drain except from the dead. The pains in his phantom injuries returned as the musket ball that had felled his wife dug into his back. The bayonet that killed her pierced him. He reached his magic into the corpse of a dead yellow coat to extract the little life force he could from the rotting body. As he did, he felt the black fluid plaguing his lungs squirm as he consumed the lifeforce from the corpse. It felt like it was expanding. A raspy cough squeezed the back fluid out of his body and into the street. The pool of black liquid lay motionless on the stone. The young mage collected himself and though the pain channeled the moon so he could continue to walk without the stick. With no life force to drain he found it difficult to concentrate. He walked against the wall of a nearby house. The modified walking stick dragged behind him.
He was here but had no idea were to go. At that time, he heard a crack as the travelers' notebook fell from his harness. He reached to pick it up and realized a new page was readable. Albie put his back to the wall. He slid to the ground and read the not.
Albie by now you killed Cpt. Lock. He was a good man despite his ambition. I had plans for him, but it doesn't matter. You have his pistol. Keep it, it will come in handy later. Get down this alley. Take a left then the second right. You will know it when you see it. The next page will reveal itself when you kill Brand.
Albie marveled at his mentors' abilities. How star magic worked was fascinating, but it didn't matter now. Albie crawled to his feet and began getting to the first left. It hurt to get to the left turn. For a moment he considered eating his bees. The hive collectively shivered in his mind. They were his friends and he remembered that and shared the feeling with them, and they calmed down. Harnessing moonlight through the pain he managed to move a bit faster. Past the first left one of the monstrous bees flew over to him holding a large squirming rat. Albie could feel its fear. He touched the rat. Then reached out with moonlight and drained the rat of its lifeforce. The rat withered to a mummified husk. Albie felt the rats' desperation. Until its last breath the it resisted death. The life force weakened the pain and the bee began to eat what was left. Albie sent feelings of satisfaction and happiness to the large bee. Then sent his longing and hunger to the other large bees. The bees flew into the night in search of the creatures who made the city home. At the end of the second block he crossed the street with the aid of his walking stick and scanned the burn buildings for a place to rest. The streets were filled with many bodies all burnt in horrible fashion. The cinders of barricades were smoldering every few feet. Burnt muskets and improvised weapons clutched in the hands of many. Some bodies looked as though a large beast with a mouth the size of a wagon wheel took a bight out of there hips. Albie imagined it was because the powder they carried for muskets had ignited on there wastes. Near the middle of the ash colored street was a large house with a glass dome on the ceiling. It was made of well carved granite. The homesteader in Albie was envious of those who could live in such a building. He walked between the broken gate posts on the blackened path to the ruins of the front door. It had been blasted with such force and heat the doorway had been covered in soot and the door blown back a few feet. The inside was a burned mess. Bodies burned to charcoal filled the back half of the room. One body seemed completely untouched by the flames. He had many cuts and stab wounds all over his bronze skin. He was naked as the day he was born with bright read hair. The dead sun blessed mage reached for the hand of a body turned to charcoal. The wrist of the body crushed a footprint made in the crushed ash.
Further inside the manor were the bodies of many women and children all stabbed to death. There were no burn marks. Just people slaughtered by people.
Albie kame to the room with the large glass dome. the sun was beginning to rise and despite the early hour of the morning the light seemed to be magnified by the glass ceiling.