"You called for me, my lord?" Athar asked, hardly out of breath after having run down the dark, violet halls of Valdis, the citadel far in the northern regions of Hjalfar. His long, dark hair was resting gently on his well-sculpted shoulders. "I did, indeed, Athar," Ardrin, the Masked One, said.
He's got that glow in his eyes again, Athar thought. "It has only been a few weeks and you've already forgotten I can hear whatever you're thinking? Has Karak not been monitoring your training properly?" Ardrin asked.
"He has been, my lord. Although, I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the privacy of my own thoughts, since that daemon can't read them," Athar stated, his voice trailing off with the last few words. "I have my reasons for keeping tabs on your thoughts," Ardrin began. "Yes, my lord. I remember you telling me about the thing you could not unlock within my core. I know, I know," the young man said in a tone he hadn't meant to.
"Listen to me carefully, Athar. That thing that is in your core, not even I would want to mess around with. I had rather hoped your training would help you contain it, but it seems it's gotten worse," Ardrin said, gazing at his servant inquisitively.
"What's gotten worse, my lord?" Athar asked. "Your attitude, for starters," Ardrin said, his eyes flaring with a little more mana. Athar swallowed dryly. "I apologize for any behavior that might displease you, my lord," the man said, bowing even lower. "Don't worry, we'll fix it. Irun!" the Masked One commanded, his voice enhanced by the mana he pulsed through the halls.
His thunderous voice resounded throughout the halls, permeating everything it came into contact with. It eventually reached its intended target, subconsciously forcing him to the main hall of the citadel.
How the hell did I get here so fast? Irun thought. I was just tending to the stump that Thoma gave me in my room when my mind darkened. How am I here? he asked himself. "Glad you could join us," Ardrin said, grinning beneath his mask at Irun's more than visible confusion.
"How did you…?" Irun began to ask, but was immediately stopped by the glowing eyes piercing his core. Ugh, why does it feel like there's a creature crawling around in my chest? he thought, scrunching the linen shirt he was wearing at the height of his heart. Ardrin finally found what he was looking for and began to diffuse his mana.
"I see you still have a lot of reservations about your old comrades," the Masked One said, fully releasing his grip on Irun's core. "Are you insinuating I regret my choice to join you, my lord?" he asked. "Watch your tone, child," Ardrin snapped, sending a chill down Irun's spine. "I'm not insinuating anything. I don't like doing that if I don't have to. I'm just saying aloud what I see happening in your core. Also, do enlighten me as to how you've been here for about a month and have not yet introduced yourself to Athar?" he asked.
Irun was at a loss for words. "I apologize, my lord. I've been recovering from the blow that bastard gave me just before we managed to escape. Even with the augmentation you've already given me, this wound festers and hasn't fully healed yet," he said, gesturing to his missing forearm.
Ardrin looked at it curiously, and smiled maliciously beneath his mask. "You could have just asked," he said, getting up from his throne borne of dark mana. He went down the small flight of steps before him, walking past the two young men.
His eyes were glowing more intensely as he drew mana from the Underworld. The lifeless, gloom-ridden, and ashen realm. The tendrils of dark mana from the sphere far above him voraciously swarmed towards his outstretched hand as he condensed the mana in the Between.
He muttered something just out of earshot of either of the two, young men present, and slammed the globe of dark mana into the floor. The resulting eruption of violet and red tendrils of mana was astounding, forcing both Athar and Irun to shield their faces.
A claw sprouted out of the ground, as the mana whirled around its increasingly growing body, crawling out of the teleportation hole in the ground. It snorted and growled as it grew to its full size which was a little taller than Irun. Without another word, the Masked One created the scarlet claw he had used on the ochelon with Athar.
You're using that again? Athar thought, knowing his master could hear it. Yes, but this time I would take a few steps back if I were you, Ardrin replied with a small hint of amusement in his voice.
The claw spawned from the Nethersong Mask lashed out before the newly-spawned daemon could react, latching onto its core, tearing it out of its enlarged body. The result was an explosion of blood and entrails being strewn about the room. Athar, who had seen this before, already had a small, protective barrier to shield him from the gore.
Irun, for whatever reason, hadn't budged.
"What the fuck was that?" he asked, wiping the blood from his face. He noticed a piece of intestine hanging from his pauldron with other unidentifiable bits and blood littering the rest of his body. "Stop whining like you haven't been covered in worse before," Ardrin said condescendingly, holding the freshly extracted core in front of him. Irun felt a tinge of embarrassment at his own reaction, and began to pull himself together. Athar, on the other hand, lowered his shield, chuckling quietly as he did so. The entrails and blood that would have reached him were now falling to the floor with a splat.
"What are you going to do with that core?" Irun asked, still picking unidentifiable bits out of the crevasses of his armor. "I'm making sure that this core will be suitable, and that there are no imperfections," Ardrin replied. "Suitable? Suitable for what?" Irun asked. "For this," the Masked One replied, his eyes glowing intensely as he rammed the claw into Irun's chest.
The merging of the daemonic core and Irun's let out another burst of mana, with the boy's screams echoing throughout the halls. Dark mana could be seen flowing through his bulging veins, as his body grew and transformed.
While their cores were merging, Ardrin used the claw and sliced off one of the daemon's arms, and fused it to Irun's. The daemonic arm responded to the dark mana, and began to merge itself with Irun's, replacing it entirely. "Wh-what happened?" Irun asked, his body ceasing to wriggle out of his control.
"I fused your core with that of a daemon's. Not to mention I just replaced your arm," Ardrin replied. "Replaced?" Irun asked, looking down at where his own arm used to be. He stumbled backwards and looked at his new arm, seeing its daemonic form fully integrated into his body. "What the fuck?" he asked quietly. "Where the hell did my arm go?" he asked, still moving the new arm around.
"First of all, in order for you to gain more power, you need the daemon's core. Second, for a daemonic core to be compatible with your body, you must take a piece of it and fuse it to your own. Think of it as a binding contract to use their power; for each core merged with, you need a piece of them to stay with you. Theoretically speaking, you could replace your entire body with daemonic parts, with the exception of your head, heart, and spine, of course," the Masked One explained. "I didn't know that was possible," Athar said.
"Well, he was already missing a limb, so I figured this would be a much easier demonstration than watching the daemonic arm devour the part it was meant to fuse with. Nevertheless, there are many things I have yet to teach you, Athar," the Masked One said, walking towards the pair.
"Thank you for the arm, my lord," Irun said, acknowledging his new situation. "You've done me a great service by providing me timely and accurate information on your former comrades. Consider it a token of my thanks, you little shit," Ardrin said dismissively. It's probably best if I shut up now, Irun thought. "Probably," the Masked One said, answering his thoughts and not bothering to look at him.