"What do you mean he's been exposed?" Ardrin asked, his question dark and foreboding as he checked Athar's pulse and breathing. Karak, who had just witnessed what happened, raised his hands placatingly. "My lord, I know what that sounds like, but it might not be as bad as we thought, provided this human can keep his wits under control," the daemon said, saliva still dripping onto the floor.
"I know what's in his core, Karak, but my question is about that smile he gave… I've never seen that before," Ardrin said, a mild concern raised in his tone. "That is what we daemons call the alternate," Karak said. "The alternate? I've never once heard of that before. What is that supposed to mean?" Ardrin asked, looking down at Athar.
Have I made a mistake? He asked himself.
"The alternate self. Monsters and daemons, such as myself, don't have them, but some humans do. Without adequate training or power, a human can easily be overcome by their alternate self, though for how long is dependent on their mastery over dark mana. Think of it as looking into a mirror, though your reflection is actually you, instead of what you're seeing," Karak tried to explain.
Ardrin tried to wrap his head around this concept, but after struggling with the thought for a few moments, he ultimately shook his head. "Why haven't I had that experience, then?" he finally asked, looking back at his second in command.
"Because your ability to manipulate dark mana was bestowed upon you by the Undergod himself, allowing you a sort of protection. Athar, for whatever reason, didn't have that. Or, at least, perhaps there was a sort of delayed activation?" Karak asked, more to himself than to the Masked One who eyed him carefully.
"That would partially explain the panicked look on his face before he passed out, at least," Ardrin said, glancing back down at the young man, who still lay unconscious on the floor. "You know why that happened, my lord," Karak began. "Though I think I do not need to explain that portion of it to you, correct?" the daemon asked, tilting his head to the side a little. The Masked One nodded his agreement, though there was a heavy air about him.
Damn it, I knew it was a bad idea. If that alternate hadn't shown up… Ardrin's thoughts trailed.
"If you're wondering whether he will live, the answer is yes, but it will be a few days before he wakes up, at least, my lord," Karak said, almost as if reading his master's thoughts. "I understand," Ardrin said, hiding his concern behind a flat tone.
"So, what news of Irun and his training?" he asked, changing the subject. "He's been progressing at a rapid rate, as Irun has trained him well. So well, in fact, that they've even formed a little pact with each other," the daemon sneered, almost as if disgusted to say the words.
"A brotherly pact?" Ardrin asked, almost as if he already knew the answer. "Precisely, my lord," Karak responded with a nod. "Well, at least he'll have someone he can somewhat relate to. In any case, tell me of the news from Caegwen," the Masked One said, not wanting to delve into that conversation any further.
"The hegraphenes have been deployed recently, though they were quickly dispatched by one of the elven synners, my lord," Karak began, recalling the events that took place. "He's already putting them to the test?" Ardrin asked pensively. "He thought they would be ready, but I suppose that female elf has surpassed his expectations," the daemon replied.
Female elf? A synner capable of taking down a hegraphene? Surely he can't mean… Ardrin's thoughts trailed once more.
"In any case, she was powerful enough to defeat them, though how many of them she can actually take on is another story, my lord," Karak said, his raspy voice filled with what sounded like excitement. "However, we have another problem that requires our attention, my lord," the daemon continued. "One of our… experiments got loose and…" the daemon trailed off, averting his gaze. "And what…?" the Masked One's impatience began to show.
"It's gone, though to where I don't know, my lord. I accept full responsibility for this accident," the daemon said, bowing his head low enough to nearly touch the floor. Ardrin sneered beneath his mask in frustration.
"You lost our experiment? How could you have let that happen, Karak? You knew its importance was paramount to the next stage of our plans," he shouted, dark mana flaring from his body, crushing the daemon to the floor with an imposing aura of mana. "Forgive me, my lord. I didn't realize it was capable of escaping the ward I'd put around its cage, much less hide its mana signature," the daemon sputtered, struggling to breathe.
Ardrin released the pressure, causing Karak to cough and gasp for air. "Go back to the observatory and find out where it is, and what it's doing. When you do, I want you to take Irun with you and retrieve it," he commanded, pointing a finger toward the door the daemon had come from.
"Do not for a fucking second think I've forgiven this mistake of yours, Karak. If you fail me now, you will pay for your transgression with your life," the Masked One threatened. "It will be done, my lord," the daemon responded, bowing its head, putting its disfigured hand across its chest before it walked away.
I feel that will be no meager setback, but it could also work out in my favor. Let us see what happens, Ardrin though, scooping Athar up with his mana claw, carrying the man behind him.
Meanwhile in Odensby, Wien made his rounds throughout the palace. The night was quiet, almost eerily so, with little to no movement in the palace whatsoever. He strode down a hall, observing a few of the paintings as he went, his greaves and armor the only things apparently making noise.
I've been here for months, and even though I've reported daily to Commander Lande, I haven't made any breakthroughs. At least these paintings are beautifully done, he thought, tracing his finger across one of the frames, picking some dust off of it.
He eventually made his way up the stairs, nearing the royal bedroom, when he saw a light coming from beneath one of the doors a little ways down the hall. Moving forward to investigate, as quietly as he could manage, he pressed an ear to the door.
Is someone… sobbing? He thought, pressing his ear more closely.
Suddenly, the sobbing stopped, and he could hear the latch on the door being undone, forcing him to awkwardly step back. "What the hell do you want?" Unni's bloodshot eyes angrily stabbed into the young sergeant's. The redness of her face and smeared tears were indicative enough that she had been crying for some time alongside an open bottle of wine that was still on the desk.
"I-I'm sorry, your majesty," Wien said urgently, bowing as he did. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was just doing my rounds and I saw the candlelight from beneath the door," he continued. Unni glared at him, but ultimately conceded her rage.
"It's alright," she sniffled, wiping away a string of snot. "I've not quite been myself lately. I thought that after coming here, that everything would be okay. Instead, all I'm met with are compounded memories, ones that eat their way into my dreams, and rid me of any restful sleep," she said, the exhaustion in her voice giving true meaning to her words.
Well, what the hell do I say to that? Wien thought.