The black shape crouched in the dark as he hovered over his machinations of- wait, have I done this before? Darwin shook himself off the feeling. No, well maybe a different approach this time.

An elegant shadow stretched out across the warped boards of the small space, a darker shape casting shadows on the night. His frame was posed to strike from where it lay hidden against the night, yet also sat basking in the glow of the unearthly light, pouring off the small glass object in front of him.

He was watching, drawing whatever arcane energies he could get from the small crystal orb. Glimpsing the hidden corners of the city before him. Images flashed as he searched through the glimpses of light and shadow. Eyes flickering as he pondered certain images before moving on to others.

"Well, that's broken." he scoffed impatiently.

The images were all part of his new scrying set up, three glass pieces of crystal, smooth orbs that he could hold comfortably in his paws when he wanted to use them. He'd been gathering information about all the other magic items in the city, sending out wave after wave of brief flashing Pneuma energy and waiting for the echoes to return to him.

His mind would then sort through the images subconsciously till he found what he wanted. And while the Spoon wasn't the best medium for such a practice, the Glass certainly was.

The problem, as it was so good he was starting to see things. He had no clue where to find them. So specific in its powers, all he saw after a point was a lot of basements and tunnels. So many images of underground tunnels and cavities. It started to make him feel claustrophobic.

He felt the onset of a headache coming on from staring too long into this smooth pebble and pushed it aside. Blinking the stars from his eyes.

Certainly, the field of Optic gave a wizard a leg up in the world over their ancient counterparts, stuck using dingy pieces of polished metal. Silver was by far the best, but could only find things within, say, a quarter-mile of itself? Maybe a half-mile with a powerful enough hand guiding it. Glass could reach farther than that by at least a league or two, surprised some old fart didn't figure it out sooner. Well, maybe they did and forgot about it, or more likely died before telling anyone.

He snickered at the thought of the old fools bumbling about with their primitive magic and silly notions about ghouls and spirits. That magic had to be earned by bowing to some piece of wood or a funny-shaped rock. No, Magic was a force of will, manifested into reality by own hand and desires. Not some babbling god that fools worshiped.

He felt something scratched at the back of his mind as he wheeled in place. There was nothing there but shadows in the old attic, and cobwebs.

He shuddered as he felt whatever it was slipping away from him. Like something just propped his head open like a textbook, scribbled a few notes, and then slammed him shut again. Weird.

He turned back to his thoughts. A jewel chisel, right? He was looking for a way to shape the Lapis charm he'd stolen into something other than a cheap monument to a fledgling romance.

He glared at the charm for a moment, it seemed, smaller than when he'd taken it. There might not be enough to work with, could have to get another one. He measured the stone carefully. It was exactly as before, and its dimensions hadn't changed at all.

He shook his head and shuddered. One less thing to worry about, but if he couldn't get it to proper form, he may have to resort to stealing a larger piece. An unhappy prospect, it'd be a pain finding and planning out all the thefts needed.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Perhaps he should think about his plan here.

He planned to locate or create a source of power capable of matching the Demon, if only for a single brief encounter. Then retake his body and banish the creature back to his domain. As a bonus, he'd be able to keep the Demons Ring and the designs for this masterstroke of power for himself, then get back to his own business.

He doubted it would be as simple as that, but he had a good start on things. The Emerald for a battery, the lapis-lazuli for a means to impose a command, so as not to blast himself to pieces, and afterward a means of redirecting the excess force, then store the power inside the emerald.

But these components would not be enough. He had the Emerald for storing power, but he didn't have any means of creating such power. Fortunately, he thought of a solution.

"Faulkes Crucible" he muttered. An unholy reaction of alchemic elements that could be used to generate obscene bursts of power, or rather, general explosive fits. He had experience using such constructs in his attempts to construct the Wind Lance spell for the Hapsburg Brigade.

Until that watchtower exploded in a misfire.

Final sabotage by the fiend Artman to get ahead of him in the competition. That and he may have put too much power behind the Crucible without checking the blast seals first. The small metal pipe he was trying to force all the air through tore open like paper and he wound up hurling brick for a few leagues.

Just glad the building was long abandoned when the accident happened. Those bricks flew for at least 2 miles and the crater was as deeper than his boot.

He also snickered when Artman's show of force wound up hurling itself into the sky before landing on the carriage that dragged it there. That had been funny, but also mildly terrifying.

"Let's see, what do I need to build Faulkes Crucible? Sulfur, a touch of mercury, and coarse salt. Hah, I should be back in my true form by this time tomorrow."

He turned to his crystal ball and began peering into it again, trying to locate these elements, and immediately found two sources to work with, A block of salt typically for cattle sitting on a store shelf, a large bottle of sulfur pills in an apothecary with mercury on the the shelf below it.

He could have his Crucible ready within the night if all went well.

There was just one problem: His scrying powers had revealed the locations of these elements, but not the shops they were.

He then had to spend another half hour finding them again, along with a dozen other similar locations and substances across the city. He only needed one, but a map would certainly help.

He also found a place that had the chisel he needed as well.

The closest store that had the Salts he needed wasn't fair, and he recognized the place well. It was the bitter ground of his previous defeat at the hands of that white rag with legs.

And just a block over, there was an apothecary that held the pills and vials, full of the precious substances that he needed. The vials he would need would be in there.

He snickered to himself. The blast from this would be enough to fuel a spell capable of exceeding any wizard's power. No force alive or dead could stop it.

And since they were intimately aware of each other's presence at all times, guiding the spell fueled by such force towards the encroaching creature would be like hunting birds with a cannon.

He even had a chance at finally avenging himself against the mangy beast that attacked him so viciously before! Tonight, the Fates had smiled upon him and his troubles were now rewarded.

Now he must carefully consider how to crush his new opposition and select a spell to become his weapon of choice for the upcoming engagement, and to serve as the means of his triumphant return to power!

The victory was His!

Now all he had to do was go get the pieces. All that stood in his was that Cat, which he could easily sweep aside now that it had dared attack him without provocation.

Thinking about it only made him angrier. He would have those salts, no damned beast would keep him from his goals, especially some flea-bitten vermin living in a glorified meat locker.

He might also help himself to some of the store's finer selections when it was all over.

A swift motion swept the stagnant dust aside as the maelstrom cascaded outwards, turning dust into tiny whirlwinds as the dark loathsome shape rebelled against the stillness of contemplation and tore out the window. Hurtling like a dark star of misfortune down the street. A dark comet of wrath headed towards a simple shop amidst the city's blackened streets.

The malady gained speed with purpose, as he swiftly stole away into the night on his terrible crusade.