Black Magus

When the coast was clear, I stepped out from the shade of a lamppost and fell into step behind Toril. “You guys ready?” I asked, causing all of them to jump mid-stride and even send a shrill yelp down the avenues.

“More than anything.” Toril groaned.

“So.” Roheisa skipped into step beside me to lean in close, squinting to see my features in the dim light. “What did you see?”

“The culture.” I curtly replied, causing her a bit of confusion, but she said nothing as we approached the gate to make our exit.

What smelled like the same guard was still posted there, with a single partner and their pot of gold. Like before, they scanned the vacant road ahead like mindless robots and said nothing as we passed.

A few hundred meters later, Roheisa’s shoulders visibly slumped in relief. “Ugh!” She sighed. “That place was awful.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But it won’t be that way forever. The seeds of change are being sown as we speak.”

“Right.” The Princess rolled her eyes, then turned to send out a bit of magic with a wave of her hand to conjure another iteration of her steel chariot. “Anyway, it’s past midnight. We need to rest. But.” She glance over her shoulder, then hopped on board. “Not here.”

“We’ll go to those clearings we passed just south of Hill Base. I’ll set the pace.”

So saying, I gently kicked off the ground to liftoff, then conjured my Artificial Well to accelerate me up and away to the northeast at well over Mach one. Even then, it took almost two hours for us to come to a gentle landing at the edge of the territories. Eager to end the day, the others wasted no time in unpacking their tents to nibble on some food and slip into bed for the night. I, however, wasn’t tired in the slightest. So I placed Skoll, Hati, and my Doppelganger on security and dipped into my Shadow Pocket for a bit of exploration.

Unlike the greater realm, my pocket of darkness was just that. An infinite and timeless realm composed of nothing but energy from the Shadow Realm. Much like how Grandpa Lich explained it, my Pocket was much like my own planet within the greater universe of the Realm. I could travel freely between the two, but everything here was inaccessible from there. In the grayed-out wash of night vision, I could see my hoard of gold had aggregated like a planetoid or golden egg in an ambiguous area near the ‘surface’ from where I emerged. My wealth of stone, wood, and other unrefined materials were aggregated in a similar fashion in other areas. And so too were all the animals I’d hunted over the years like a ring of flesh orbiting around a moon of seeds, vegetables, and fruit. My weapons were also present. As were mine and the Princess’ ships and the small assortment of books I’d collected over the years.

Further down, however, was where my Menagerie dwelled in harmony. Down there, the shadow mana was much denser; dense enough to be molded into permanent habitats by the troops. Most of them were holes of varying depths, shapes, and sizes. Naturally, Stewie, Roger, Jake, and Kit took up residency in such structures. But the most notable of them all was the wolves’ den and Pora Bora’s perch. The former was simply a comparatively large and complex cave, separated from the others by a fair distance. The latter was the closest to my material goods. In a similar cave burrowed in a semi-solid pillar of shade like a birdhouse. Conversely, Gero had a simple shade ‘rock’ that he’d sit on when not swimming through the energy at his leisure. Like Hatchi, the octopus; and the three orcas, Chako, Orpheus, and Jima.

Due to my meddling with time last week, my accuracy in gauging their transition was thrown off. Hopefully, however, that would be rectified with my new quarry. The tendrils had dragged it to the dark pit’s basin, where it wildly thrashed about in protest of the semi-necrotic energy seeping into it. Sustaining it as its very composition was altered. However, the experiment needed variables to be complete. Creatures with less mass, greater mass, more or less intelligence, and so on. But that would’ve had to be accomplished later, during the climb. What I was interested in sat below. So I continued descending past the elephant until I came upon a bramble wall made of black, ashen smoke.

The gate to the Underworld.

Or rather, my gate to the Underworld. A place I hadn’t been to since my first introduction, for whatever reason.

Like before, the vines untwisted and retracted on approach. Revealing a seemingly infinite ghostly plain spread beneath a sky sparesly sprinkled with stars. Unlike before, however, Two rows of green and white phantoms stood in a line before my throne like a platoon of divine protectors. The Aegis Souls were titanic figures. Dressed in a crusader's garb and equipped only with tower shields, their visages were starkly different from the rugged bodies they came from. Naturally, that translated to the two rows of burning red souls spread out in front of them. The Burning Souls were like barbaric giants armed with nothing but their nails and teeth. The veins in the necks and brows bulged as they moved their lidless eyes across the still horizon unceasingly.

Other than the pile of bodies I’d saved, there was veritably nothing else for what looked like hundreds of millions of kilometers in every direction. It was a simple flat surface made of the same deathly smoke as the gates. The exception was, of course, the Necro Throne. As I’d done before, I orbited it and took a moment to peer through the fog to view the abyssal expanse below. The Underworld. A Cold, dark realm, plagued by gelid tempests that carried the wails of eternally clashing spirits. The place where all who weren’t saved by a deity wound up.

And those who made deals with devils.

Following my curiosity, I descended through the floor. And the moment I broke through, the sea of ghosts and spirits ceased their fighting and turned in unison to crane their necks in my direction. As I grew closer, they kneeled. Yet as I came to a landing on the black plain, they began to retreat. Almost in fear, and yet also from an invisible force pushing them away to give me ten meters of personal space. Ignoring the faceless ghosts, I turned my gaze upward to see my domain appearing like a bright star in the sky. The second brightest of them all. As I looked down, I both saw and began to fall below the Under. Into an infinite realm of impenetrable darkness- The void. While I was able to freely travel inside the place, I knew there was literally nothing to be found. Making it the perfect place to lock something away forever. But not much of a place worth exploring.

Satisfied for now, I returned to my throne to orbit around it a final time before slowly settling into it. Invoking a wave of death mana to be pulled from my core and sent out into the abyss. Making me feel… connected. Both with my necrotic world and the greater Under.

‘So, I guess I just call someone’s name?’ I wondered. Looked around for a few still moments until the impenetrable silence was broken by the echoes of a deep, brass-like voice.

“It seems your subconscious has summoned me here, o’ Sovereign of Death.”

Following the words, the airy substance on the ground began condensing and rising and bending the light into the visage of a human with a striking resemblance to my father. Lean, with dark skin, full lips, and a bulbous nose. With hair neatly fashioned into a flat top.

Only, he looked around the same age as my dad.

“Azrael Cole.” I surmised.

“That’s no way to address your grandfather, Amun!” He leaned back to send an amiable cackle rippling through the abyss. Then leaned forward to bury his shaking head in his hand. “Why, you’re just as Dad described you.”

“And how did he describe me?” I tilted my head in curiosity. “I’m surprised he spoke of me at all.”

“Hah! As was I!” He rocked back, smiling. “He says you’re extremely arrogant. That you lack respect for authority. And that you’re powerful. Which means we’ll get along just fine.”

“Well met.” I bowed at the neck. “Granddad.”

“Eh. Call me Azrael.” He shrugged away the title. “Azrael Cole. I was a great ranger back in my day. Known as the Shadow Puppeteer. Now, I am dead, but not undead. Even if it were allowed, I cannot be raised by either you or my father; lest one of you happens to find my body.” He grumbled. “That said, Dad never took my death well. Much more so than my son. He hardly ever comes to visit.” He scoffed, then turned and held his gaze above.

“Pleased to meet you, Azrael.” I bowed my head. “As you know, my name is Amun.”

“No need for formalities.” He waved again before pointing to where he was looking. “I see you’ve gathered a number of Shikigami. You have a good amount to start with.”

‘Ugh. How do you even know that word?’ I groaned inside. “Thank you. I aim for no more than twenty. I call them my Tenebrous Menagerie.”

“Just the right number. And a fancy name to boot. A bit long though.” He looked down at me with a wide grin and burning pride in his eyes. Or perhaps something else.

“You just may be able to do what I couldn’t.”

“And what’s that?” I asked.

“Capture a dragon.”

“A dragon?” I raised my brows.

“It’s how I died.” He meekly shrugged. “I was recently promoted to Ranked Mage and let it get to my head. I wanted to turn a dragon and earn another promotion. But, it didn’t work out as planned.” He laughed, rubbing his head. “I was eaten!”

“So then, turning a dragon wasn’t possible?” I guessed.

“Oh, it’s definitely possible to trap them.” He quickly said. “They just have to be exhausted of magic and stamina. That said, dragons are different from any other creatures in existence. The process to change them is difficult. And they won’t become regular Shikigami either. At least that’s my theory.” He shrugged.

“Any idea as to what they’ll become?” I asked. “Or is it the obvious: a shadow dragon?”

“That’s what I wanted to find out,” he said as his slender finger was jabbed into my chest. “But you, Amun, can find out.”

“It does sound appealing. And I do have an interest in dragons.” I admitted. “But, I currently know next to nothing about them.”

“If the Bodhi Tree is still around, they’ll teach you there. You’re around that age, right?” He gestured to me with his chin.

“I’m actually on my way there now.” I chuckled. “If I ever come across one I’ll surely attempt it.”

“Good.” He beamed. “In that case, I advise you to take the Beast-Master subclass and pick the Draconic Branch as your Favored Species. If you're a ranger, that is. Now, if you have time to talk, I can tell you how I used our Shadow Sorcery.”

“I have time.” I shrugged.

“Alright then. I assume you’ve been taught the Shadow Clone spell?”

“It was the first spell I was taught.” I nodded.

He proudly thrust his thumb into his ribs and shouted. “I documented it!”

"I'm aware." I stifled back a groan. Being the son of the Necro King, I halfway expected him to be amiably goofy. If not a bit insane. But the exuberance wasn't much my cup of tea. “I’ve learned casting a cursed spell on them inreases their functionality,” I hurriedly said.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “That works with all spells. Makes them more powerful too. My specialty was in making living constructs out of darkness. You’re probably familiar with creating tools out of solid shade?”

“Yes.”

“The next step in that is to create creatures from solid shade. As I said, my epithet was the Shadow Puppeteer. I attacked people’s shadows, rather than their bodies. And I took control of them to make them move according to my wishes.”

“Since the shadows are a part of themselves, they must comply.” I grinned in amazement. “That’s good.”

“But that’s not all!” Azrael grinned. “My signature move was to mold solid shade into creatures and give them life with our sorcery. That was the method I used to make Shikigami until I realized the technique you’re using.”

‘Finally.’ I grinned internally. ‘A teacher who just lays it all out.’

I listened intently to Azrael explain his spell. In essence, the creature’s intellectual capacity or sentience was determined by intent when casting the spell. Mana influenced the overall strength of the creature. And the form was created by the imagination. In other words, it was the exact same thing I did under the influence of the Rage Souls when I created the Umbra Iris for the first time.

“That’s more or less all there is to it.” He grinned. “You seem like a smart kid. I’m sure you can figure the rest out.”

“Certainly.” I nodded. “Now then, if you don’t mind, I’m curious to know what life was like during your time.”

“Oh, I was born in Deap Ridge in 1,344. The Empires were young back then. Dad’s guild had been made into a military, and naturally, I grew up to serve in it. I went on many expeditions until I had your father in 1,419. I raised him in peace… for a time. Then, I got the itch. I returned to adventuring in 1,428, was promoted in 1,429, and met my demise in 1,430. From what I understand, Dad got rid of the military and replaced it with his Necro Army afterward to keep Emeric from getting the same ego I had.”

‘It all makes sense.’ I nodded slowly. “For whatever it's worth, it worked. My Dad has made Grandpa Lich’s Empire wealthy. Extremely wealthy.”

Without warning, Azrael hunched forward on his knees. Snickering and laughing and repeating the words, “Grandpa Lich.” Over and over again. “Regardless, it seems like you’ve inherited my will, Amun.” He eventually turned back to me, beaming ear-to-ear. “Dad has told me of your ambitions. And I’ve heard many stories of the Fae. I’m undoubtedly certain that you can change the Mortal Plane itself. You have my support all the way.”

“Thank you for your support, Azrael.” I bowed. “And thank you for your wisdom.”

“Anytime.” He grinned. “Just call on me if you ever want to talk again.”

“I most definitely will.” I chortled before rising from the throne- my throne- creating an inverse wave of energy that took away the energy keeping Azrael‘s 'body’ held together.

“I plan on talking to all of you.”