Chapter 21
Hunters in the Night
Ydom, Kingdom of Hannibal
The human had failed. But of course he did. Even the ablest of their wretched kind would ultimately fall short, and this one was most certainly not one of the ablest. No matter. He could still be used.
That was the one saving grace of humanity. Despite their limitations, they were easy to use and reuse. Death was but a minor hindrance. At times it could even be a boon. Yes, humans were generally far more pliable after they had shuffled off this mortal coil. It may not have been the reason for ushering in a kingdom of the dead, but it was definitely one of the benefits.
Though it was not all that noticeable, the floor of the cave tilted toward the Dark Portal. Channels had been carved into the floor so that the blood of sacrifice might flow into the Portal. It was a simple matter of time for the human's blood to reach the Portal and when it did, his power could flow back to the source.
The change was nearly imperceptible in the dark, but the blood turned black as the power flowed into the body of the human. It would not be correct to say the flesh was enlivened, but it was animated once more.
There was some merit in twisting the human's soul over the years, shackling it with fear and devotion. It meant the spirit would not move on easily and so it could be used to move the body once more. It always worked better to use the original soul as an ill match would be more difficult to use and less effective. Even for a deathless being of unfathomable power, efficiency was important. Existing outside the touch of time counted for little when all the pieces on the board would only remain there for the blink of an eye.
The human rose up once more in the living death. Feeble as they were, his mortal limitations had been stripped away. He would no longer hunger or thirst. He would no longer know fear or hesitation. He would obey until his body was destroyed.
"Take back the child," the being from beyond the Dark Portal commanded. "Do whatever you must, but see that she is returned to me."
Power then flowed into the sacrificial knife lying on the ground, imbuing it with a new ability.
"Take up the blade and make helpers as you need them."
The human stooped down to pick up the knife. His movements were stiff. The spirit's bond with the flesh was still unstable, but it would adapt soon enough.
"Now go, and make haste, lest they slip out of your grasp."
The human clumsily plodded away. It was not terribly likely that he would succeed. The vessel was inferior, but there were other hands to be played. One of them was sure to succeed. The goal was in sight and all those fools with their petty ambitions would bring it to fruition without even knowing. If his heart could still be moved to feel, he would be rapt with anticipation of the fulfillment of the work of all these centuries. The time was close at last.