Thief Vs. Powerful

Date: 10/24/2020

* The point of view in this dream is actually an internal monologue type thing (was really weird for me) while watching from across the woods in hiding. You could see them from a distance, not that distance mattered. The one on his knees, straight jacketed, and still too proud to succumb to his conditions. His dark hair pushed down from the mask that covered his nose and mouth, gagged by a bar on the inside no doubt. We all knew, we had all heard the stories. Its hard to disobey when you cannot speak. Yet still, his eyes did enough. Even where I stand the brilliance is unmistakeable. A striking power resonated across the creek from his adopted “one thousand yard stare”. Yes, rumors had been floating about this particular Powerful; “not for sale”, we hear. Thats very odd. The man next to him is only a little less remarkable. He had not reacted when his prisoner had been presented to him. You wouldnt think much if you saw this man walking down the street, with his plain clothes. But looking closer, his attire was just below perfect. Shirt ironed and tucked, pants pressed, shoes clean, and belt not too tight or too loose. No hand made holes. Thin clear glasses framed his dull eyes and only just wrinkled skin. He almost looks bored. Just passed his boredom you can feel a dark bit of greed that leaks from him. This Thief had drained many Powerfuls without a second thought. For some reason this particular prisoner made him take pause. Placing his pale hand on the old wooden bridge thats crossed the creek, he stayed in deep thought for what seemed like an hour. The woods around them quiet, dark, and misty. The day was just beginning and the ground was wet with dew, creating small patches of dark circles on the Powerfuls pants. Slowly, the Thief reached out his left hand, a slight tremble appeared as he got close to his prisoners neck. Another pause showed his concealed anxiety, possible excitement. No longer able to contain himself, the master took a firm grip on his prisoners neck and kept and even firmer grip on the bridge post. Immediately the Powerfuls eyes glowed a brilliant blue, like someone had put a flashlight behind his irises. The color then began to drain, the light slowly dying. One...two... the Powerful would be dead by five.....three... most of the light had been transferred to the Thief, power along with it. Then the master abruptly let go, his prisoner slumping to the ground. This was different, the Thief did not drain the Powerful to death, this is odd. The prisoner sat back up tiredly, his striking eyes now dull, his body heavy with misery. But he would recoup, and be drained. He had just become his master personal supply. The Thief had never felt such power come from one Powerful, he need more. His prisoner could not die until he captured another of equal strength. This fill would last him many weeks, where normal drainings lasted days.