The eyes that had lingered upon the two across the room slowly became aligned with the silver mask as Sikander turned towards them. The tattered fabrics of worn and weathered cloth that hung draped across the silhouetted form of the Assosian outlined the upper half of the phantasmal form that lay beneath the miasmatic superficial layers of shadow which defined the corona of the wraith like being. Beneath the corona manifested a black nimbus of shadow which undulated and writhed like coils of thick acrid black smoke. Small tendrils of the darkness which constituted the mostly intangible form of the Assosian slithered through the tatters of fabric which hung limply from the shoulders and upper arms, whereas the elbows and forearms including the hands were lost within the nimbus of shadow. The mask floated inside an abyss of darkness which outlined the edge of the decrepit disembodied face. Slivers of billowing shadow which mimicked the nature of smoke by the way in which it cast a blurry haze across the surface of the mask. Two tiny beads of indigo light aligned with the each center of the hollow sockets, appearing as though the indigo light formed somewhere deep within the recess of darkness, casting an illusion of endless depth within that black abyssal void which constituted what could be assume as the core mass of the Assosian. Sikander lay his gaze upon them both, no longer an indistinct glimpse out of a peripheral corner but at the center of his focused attention. He watched them, their mannerisms, the way in which they moved and the aura in which existed deep within them both that defined the flavor of their spirits. Shadow walkers were spirit eaters, though it they revitalize their vitality and body. By consuming the souls of others they themselves were privileged an extended existence, hosting the capability to live indefinitely.
The spirits within them held their own distinct attributes which manifested as color, smell, taste, and a luminosity that held much significance. It was the combination of the luminous characteristics and color which each individual would leave lingering behind them that Shadow walkers would track to eventually find their victims. These senses of the spiritual presence had been honed and sharpened after countless centuries of existence and were of a second nature to Sikander, more familiar to him than that of human sight, touch, and smell. He relished in the aftermath of their souls, allowing the essence which lingered in their wake to course through his senses, it fueled a hungering thirst within his body, his instincts pleaded with him to abandon all purpose and feast among those before him. Some shadow walkers could not resist the temptations, this fierce instinctual hunger would overtake their minds and drive them into the frenzy of consumption, they would gorge themselves upon the sweet succulence until there was nothing left but the bitter darkness for which they came. This madness of hunger was one of the first tribulations in which Sikander had overcome to eventually retain his sentience and free-will of mind and body. Sometimes in moments of self reflection it puzzled him how different the experience of existence could be from one form to another, sometimes so much so it was difficult if not impossible to discern the existence of life at all. The Assosians existed upon the fringes of that scale, starkly different in almost all characteristic of life than that of the bipeds that called themselves humanoid.
By the look of the two, the task asked of him would not prove one easily accomplished, the female's soul existed with a bittersweet flavor and a provocative sensual aroma, a lingering crimson hue lingered within the deep rich corona of purple light. The male radiated in a similar manner, of oranges and swirling wisps of red and yellow. Both were confident by the way in which their aura's resonated from them bodies, the spiritual presence was strong within each, which would only serve to make things more difficult for the Assosian. A soft hiss, almost inaudible resonated from the hollow chest of the shadow walker, slowly the coiling mass of shadow withdrew unto itself, the tattered scraps of fabric shifted to the center of the chest, the silver mask elongated and withered towards the epicenter. It looked as if the entire body of the Assosian were being pulled and compacted into a single small sphere of black space. This dwindling sphere of black resonated with ripples which coursed through the rounded surface, pulsating with flashes of indigo light which resembled heat lighting. The thin coils of light quickened between internals of illumination within the clouded ball, until the size of the sphere had diminished so much so that only a small marble sized orb of indigo hues energy, brimming alone the precipice of solid white hovered where once Sikander had levitated. In another moment the orb of light was gone entirely and the Assosian slipped away into the darkness of the Malevolence.
Within the darkness the Assosian was sovereign of his domain, all at once within the Malevolence the traces of Sikander blurred away into the void. There existed no relic, no talisman, no magic, nor meta-physical ability that could discern at that moment the presence of Sikander. Void techniques were notoriously potent and inexplicably hard to track, when complied with the nature of an Assosian's existence, it created a level of stealth in which no sensory capability no matter how omnipotent or powerful could breach. Such a technique was the only such one powerful enough to cast a veil over Leo's ability to detect the Assosian within his own bar. Existing in a world between the veil, everything within the Malevolence took upon a blurry, indistinct glimmer which radiated with a soft sapphire blue hue. The amorphous body of Siaknder dispersed into the air above Sharlen and Never. He traced his route quickly, not wishing to expend anymore energy than it took in order to accomplish Leo's task, void techniques took a powerful toll when used for extended periods of time, when using them it was not uncommon to shed a little piece of oneself, lost within the hollow abyss of the world comprised of nothing.
Though he could not make contact with Sharlen or Never, Sikander would have to get close, close enough to accomplish what he sought. All around Sharlen, Sikander would once again appear, slithering long smokey tendrils which coiled above her skin, the same black tendrils would penetrate the crimson blanket which had covered her form, filtering through it unabated as the intangible shadows soon encompassed her form for only a brief moment before coalescing between her and Never. In the brief moment in which vision between the two of them would be obscured, Sikander would initiate his plan. The shadows often held a strong affinity towards illusionary abilities, even if they were only to last a moment before the mind could focus enough on the illusion to break the false perception of reality. But all it would take was but a moment to accomplish what Leo had asked of Sikander, he'd focus his best efforts to bring fruition to that moment. The illusion was simple, as he manifested and above and around Sharlen, the image of her body being stripped of its flesh, a pantomime of sudden terror and horrific pain would play upon her face. The shifted reality would go as far as to make it appear as though she writhed and to top it off, the aghast cries of pain that reverberated throughout the room. This would be Never's brief perspective of reality, coalescing into the shifting black mass of the Assosian hovering several feet from the ground.
Sharlen's perspective would be a world plunged into darkness, without context or reason. The hollow darkness was intangible, lingering still with the nothingness of the void the Assosian's nimbus of shadows and writhing darkness would shift and sway away from her touch, never allowing contact between them while rebuffing sound, vision, smell, all her senses. Plunged into an encompassing veil of which neither telepathic nor empathic abilities could penetrate. For a brief moment her reality would be the same in which Sikander had existed for countless centuries, the infinite primordial darkness that constituted his very fabric of existence, a darkness that etch its hopelessness upon the mind of those who glimpse into it. It only lasted long enough to work within the confines of the mind, where the brain would activate the instinctive response of recoil and panic while attempting to understand the world around it. These gaps in conscious perception was where illusion worked with the greatest success. She would witness the manifestation of Sikander from behind, the tattered rotted fabrics which hung from the silhouette of a head and shoulders hanging limp in the shifting coils of solid black. The undulating torrents beneath the subtle coronal layers of his existence writhed and shifted like plumes of smokey tendrils. He levitated at an equidistant metric between the two of them, the dark mass of the Assosian made the lights surrounding them seem quite dim. There they both could garner a close up look at Sikander's phantasmal form.
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