Pawn
Nolan is patrolling his territory in Festival Park one fateful day. The fateful day. He's seeking shelter from the afternoon light beneath the colorful roof that tops the elevated stage, never straying too far away from the edges of the planks of wood. His arms hang over his staff balanced across his shoulders as if he were a scarecrow. The street is peaceful once more thanks to his genius plan that the Wizard carried out dutifully. Now all he has to fill his days are... waiting for the time to come to pick up Professor Drake's laundry.
He stares out over the glittering lake with half-closed eyes. He doesn't even go to pick it up anymore. He sends a minion to do such a laborious task for him. No more aching arms and legs. No more berating for being a hair late.
It's...
Clatter!
Single brow raised, Nolan turns around. That's not a normal noise around here-
His breath catches in his throat. His stomach drops. And finally the chill hits him; sharp, clear, wrong. He's not sure what about the thing that makes him scared. It's slender onyx form bleeding into sapphire-tipped feet and feathers inspires soft elegance. The book held aloft in its arm teems with power that washes over the small, empty space that the locals call a 'park'. The winged mask is enamoring and the floating butterfly staff that waits at its side gently glows with ethereal light. Nolan has never seen a creature like this before!
And that's the issue. This thing is out of place, and what it's doing is even worse.
Small black pearls orbit around its head, forming some kind of void-like halo. Its free hand is extended to the one guard that stands on duty, overseeing the park. He has been brought to his knees, a long tendril of darkness rising from his hunched figure, collecting itself in the creature's awaiting palm.
Nolan rights himself instantly, swinging his staff down into his hands. He grips it tight as he takes up a heroic and defensive position at the rear of the stage, glowing blue orb of mana lifted between himself and whatever that thing over there is. He watches the string become yet another pearl that joins the orbit of the rest before the creature moves on, leaving the guard sitting as still as a statue on the ground behind it. It doesn't look like it's noticed Nolan yet-
The masked face snaps to Nolan just as he thinks it'll merely glide by. Slowly, it turns to face him.
“H-Hey!” Nolan barks, his arms stiffening as he feels his mana swirl inside his chest, “S-Stay back! Or else I'm g-going to-”
“Pawn,” it merely hisses at him as it raises its free arm. Its fingers float in the air so light and lofty, five black ribbons drifting with soft intent. Its will roots Nolan in place, the edges of his vision darkening as he watches... something begin to be drawn from his body. His stiffness slowly relaxes. His pounding heart calms. His resolve... steels itself in the dying light of day.
When next he returns to his senses, he feels something cold and spherical sliding down his throat. An air of measured justice holds its grip over him for a few seconds longer before he feels the cold rush of adrenaline wash back over him. Suddenly he feels short of breath as he tries to shake off the disorientation.
That... seraph thing is gone. The dirt is scorched from battle and a few of the tents have collapsed. But... no one looks hurt? Nolan aches a bit as though he just ran a mile straight. And-
And Duncan is passed out on the ground, face buried in the dirt and dust.
“D-Duncan?!” Nolan can't help but stammer, his voice cracking beneath the sheer amount of energy surging through his body. He crouches down and flips the Necromancer onto his back. He's breathing, shallow but sure. The remnants of black smoke rise from his face, some kind of mask dissolving into nothingness once exposed to the daylight. His face twitches, a nightmare running through his head.
Oh, oh, what do I do? What happened?!
He sucks in a breath as he hears the armor of the guard shift. He, too, appears to be reawakening from whatever spell the shadow thing put him under, shaking his head to clear the fog.
Nolan's gut twists in knots. He's not sure why, but he feels the need to hide the Necromancer from view. He promptly digs his arms under and around Duncan's own. Thank Raven for all that time he spent hauling Professor Drake's laundry! That, and Duncan is surprisingly light. It's not easy slinging the guy over his shoulder in the slightest but at least he can actually pick him up in the first place!
Duncan, through all of it, does not wake.
By the time the guard spins around to scan Festival Park, the black seraph has disappeared, leaving behind quite a mess in its wake. Oh, and Nolan is gone too. Probably off cowering in a hidden corner somewhere. He should be fine.