Got a second to spare? We do.

 At first, Medea thought the emerging figure was a wizard of some kind. Or shaman. Indeed, his flowing feathered robes and chains, along with the braided black hair and the huge elaborate raven skull headdress would have lent itself to that assumption. Especially since bells chimed as he moved and he held a blood red torch staff in his left hand. One that belched more fire and smoke as it shot arcing balls of light upward around his head.  Yet there was something more to him than that. Something powerful and ancient.  As he turned to face them, she saw that he’d painted a thick black band over his golden eyes that made their unusual color more vibrant. He stepped down the dais with the grace of a man half his age. And when he neared them, he flexed his dark gray gloved hand that held the staff, digging the wooden claws that were affixed to his fingertips into its leather-wrapped shaft. His gaze bored into them with the wisdom of the ages, and with the sharpness of daggers. As if he were cleaving secrets from their souls.

 The red light of his torch flared again, and turned blue.


The copián glanced to his companions. “Time is the most precious commodity in the entire universe. The most sacred. And yet it is the most often squandered. From the moment of our births, we’re only allotted so much of it. And for even an hour more, there are those who are willing to give anything for it.” An evil smile curled his lips. “Even their immortal souls.”

 The copián walked toward the portal and lifted his staff up. The moment he did, the portal came alive with swirling, vibrant colors. He moved his staff through it until the mist began to mimic his movements.  Red fire shot out from the torch and was absorbed by the mist.

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