The chapel doors opened into a deeper, more profound darkness beyond. Stepping across the threshold, I felt the shadows envelop me, cold and intimate and hungry.

The grand chapel was a sight of hauntingly beautiful architecture. Massive pillars of shadow-veined stone rose into the curtain of darkness. The onyx floor was polished to a shine, reflecting the intense purple-black flames that burned in braziers along the walls.

As I moved down the central aisle I noticed how the shadows seemed to reach for me as I passed. But as if they could feel a greater presence in the room, they quickly drew back.

The other blackguards were already gathered, dressed in their blacks. They sat on rows of obsidian pews facing the central altar, which was a massive block of shadow-stone that pulsed with dark energy. Above hung an immense symbol of Valic, crafted from obsidian and silver, which made it the most conspicuous piece in the entire space. And rightfully so.

Currents of dark energy flowed through the chapel like rivers of liquid night, all seeming to converge on the altar. The shadows in the corners writhed with purpose, as though reacting to this unseen force.

Malachai stood before the altar with his back to me. He wasn’t donned in his usual armor, but instead wore formal attire similar to mine, though much more elaborate. The chains on his shoulders were gold rather than silver, and a long, black cape flowed behind him.

Corvus stood to his right, the crows on his shoulders unusually still. His head turned slightly at my approach.

“Welcome, brother,” Malachai said to me without turning.

I stopped at the end of the aisle and kept my distance. “You summoned me, Grandmaster,” I said with my head bowed. “Though, I admit, I’m curious about the timing.”

Malachai turned then, and I was once again by how his entire aura commanded attention even without his intimidating armor. The scar on his right temple pulsed with purple energy, matching the rhythm of the flames in the braziers.

“Tonight you take your first steps in service to the Dread Lord,” he began. “And it is tonight that you will understand your true purpose here.” He made a small hand gesture, beckoning me closer. “Approach the altar. He awaits.”

I swallowed once then moved forward slowly. The altar itself was unlike anything I’d ever seen. What had appeared to be solid shadow from a distance was revealed to be something far more complex up close. Its surface rippled and shifted into abstract forms that whispered in languages that sounded too ancient for my understanding. Waves of dark energy emanated from it and gave off a chilling effect in the air.

“Kneel,” Malachai instructed in a rigid tone.

I obeyed without question, dropping to one knee before the altar. I felt the chill of the obsidian floor seep through my clothes. The shadows around me coiled around my form like eager serpents. The dark veins beneath my skin pulsed faster, responding to whatever power emanated from this unholy place.

“Brothers and sisters,” Malachai addressed the gathered blackguards, “we gather tonight to witness another soul’s dedication to our order, to our purpose. Through shadow and steel, through blood and power, we forge the weapons of our lord’s will.”

A low chant began amongst the crowd, words in the Infernal language that I had only just begun to study. The voices grew stronger, and its rhythms seemed to match the pulse of dark energy flowing throughout the chapel. The braziers’ purple-black flames rose higher, and shadows began to coalesce around the altar like a living storm.

Malachai joined in the chanting. The harsh syllables echoed off the stone walls, each word seeming to tear at the fabric of reality itself. My limited knowledge of the Infernal tongue allowed me to catch only fragments of meaning—something about blood, shadows, and eternal darkness.

Frost spread across the chapel floor in intricate patterns. The shadows in the corners of the room began to move with deliberate purpose. The temperature plummeted until each breath came out as a frozen mist.

Then I felt it—that familiar presence from the void, the overwhelming power that had given me a second chance at life. Valic’s essence filled the chapel like a physical weight. Malachai’s eyes begin to glow with that same crimson fire I remembered from when I first encountered the Dread Lord.

The other blackguards slid off the benches and fell to their knees, overwhelmed by the Dread Lord’s presence. Even Corvus, usually so composed, trembled visibly. The crows that usually perched on his shoulders had taken flight and circled the chapel’s vaulted ceiling in agitation.

When Malachai spoke again, it was not his voice that emerged. The sound was deeper, older, and carried echoes of ancient power that touched my very soul.

“Caelum Steelwind,” the voice of Valic emerged from Malachai’s lips. “You who died by the hangman’s noose and were reborn in darkness. You who have begun to walk the path of shadow. Are you prepared to dedicate yourself fully to my purpose?”

I started. It seemed Valic had possessed Malachai in that moment in order to speak to me. The very idea that even Malachai with all his great power could be used as a mere puppet by the Dread Lord, was disturbing. I could feel Valic’s attention bearing down on me, as the weight of his power pressed upon my mind like a physical touch. The energy in my veins glowed and pulsed in rhythm with the god’s presence.

“I am prepared,” I responded at last. I’d never felt so sure about something more than I did now.

Malachai raised his gloved hand, and darkness gathered between them like sentient liquid. “Then let the sacrament begin.” His fingers touched my forehead and ice-cold power surged through my body.

I gasped from the initial shock. Visions suddenly flooded my mind—intense scenes of conquest and destruction played out before my mind’s eye with terrifying clarity, of worlds wrapped in eternal shadow. I saw armies of the dead marching across blasted landscapes, led by dark-clad figures. Their very presence seemed to corrupt the air around them. Something about their commanding presence felt strangely familiar, though I couldn’t understand why.

The images shifted. I saw cities falling to darkness. I watched as the inhabitants transformed into servants of shadow. Their screams of terror turned to songs of dark praise, their fear becoming devotion to powers they once feared.

Through it all ran a constant theme of absolute power. But there was something else, something that drew a shiver of anticipation through me. Amongst the armored figures, I glimpsed one that stood apart, whose presence commanded even the other dark warriors. This figure sat upon a throne of shadow and bone, wearing a crown forged from onyx and silver. Though I couldn’t see the figure’s face, there was something about them that resonated deep within me.

The visions swirled faster, becoming an array of dark omens and portents. I caught fleeting glimpses of nine kingdoms united under a banner of shadow, of armies kneeling before a figure whose power was only second to Valic himself. I saw a great change, a moment when shadow and steel would reshape the very foundations of Aetheria.

But these fragments of possible futures slipped away like water through my fingers, leaving me with only a vague sense of destiny and purpose. My mind reeled, trying to make sense of what I’d seen, but the meanings remained just beyond my grasp, like words in a language I had yet to learn.

When the visions finally stopped, I found myself trembling. My body was covered in a cold sweat.

“Through shadow we gain strength.” Malachai’s voice returned to my ears. Though it seemed that Valic no longer possessed him, I could still feel the god’s presence all around us. “Through strength we gain power. Through power we gain victory. Through victory we transcend mortal limitations.”

The other blackguards responded and took up the chant in Infernal.

“Death is a gateway to greater purpose. The weakness of mortality falls away, revealing the truth that lies beneath,” Malachai continued above the buzz of chanting.

More visions flooded my mind, but these were different, more personal. I saw my former self, bound by rules and morality that now seemed so laughably naive. I saw the corruption of those who had condemned me, their pretense of justice nothing but a mask for their own weakness. I saw the truth of power—that it belonged to those strong enough to take it, to wield it without hesitation or remorse.

As the visions faded, I noticed a movement beside me. Corvus approached, his blindfolded face oriented in my direction. In his outstretched hand, he held a tiny crystal vial filled with black liquid.

“The final sacrament,” Malachai announced. “Drink, and let the darkness fully claim you.”

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Corvus uncorked the vial. The scentless ichor inside swirled around like living shadow. I sensed something else beneath the surface, a promise of power that called to me.

With steady hands, I accepted the vial. The assembled blackguards watched in absolute silence, their attention focused on this crucial moment.

I raised the vial to my lips and drank.

The liquid burned like frozen fire as it went down my throat and spread through my body in waves of transformative agony. My muscles seized as the substance worked its way through my system. Every nerve ending screamed as if being rewritten on a fundamental level. The dark veins beneath my skin blazed with purple fire.

The empty vial slipped from my fingers and shattered on the stone floor as I collapsed to my knees. My body wracked with spasms as the serum reshaped me from the inside out. The very makeup of my flesh seemed to be changing, becoming more resilient. My blood felt like liquid shadow in my veins.

My mind was affected next. New awareness bloomed behind my eyes as senses and neural pathways reorganized themselves. Knowledge of spells and incantations suddenly crystallized in my thoughts, as if they had always been there, waiting to be awakened.

When the intense sensation finally subsided, I rose slowly to my feet and marveled at how different everything felt. My body hummed with new power, and the air itself seemed to respond to my will. The chapel’s darkness felt more intimate now, more personal, as if I could reach out and shape it with a mere thought. Even the lingering pain from my transformation felt right somehow, like the aftermath of forging steel into something stronger.

“The rite is complete,” Malachai said, his voice once again carrying echoes of Valic’s power. “Rise as a servant of the Dread Lord.”

As I stood, I felt the difference in every movement. My muscles responded with newfound strength and precision. The very air seemed to caress my skin differently, as if recognizing me as something more than mortal. Even my thoughts felt sharper, clearer, touched by powers I was only beginning to understand.

The altar’s surface rippled more violently, and for a moment I caught a glimpse of something vast and dark and powerful watching through that liquid shadow. The symbol of Valic above us flared with inner fire, and I felt the weight of the Dread Lord’s attention once more.

“The shadows speak of your potential,” Malachai continued in his own voice. “They see in you a worthy vessel for our lord’s power. But worthiness must be proved through action.” He knelt down at the altar’s base, where a polished obsidian box sat amongst a pool of shadows. Its surface seemed to ripple like black water, and when he opened it, I caught glimpses of countless scrolls, each tied with red string that looked suspiciously like dried sinew. “Your first mission awaits. A test of both your new powers and your dedication to our cause.” He selected a scroll without hesitation, as though being guided by some dark instinct. “Your path leads to Ebonheart.” A dark smile played at the corners of his mouth as he handed me the scroll. “To the thirteenth aurorium.”

The familiar word triggered a memory—aurorium. In my former world, they had been temples dedicated to various deities, places of worship and contemplation. I remembered passing them during my patrols through town, their grand spires stretching towards the sky, and their clerics going about their daily rituals with serene confidence in their gods’ protection.

But this was Aetheria, where familiar things often held darker meanings. The shadows around me seemed to respond to my curiosity, showing fleeting images of structures that bore the same basic architecture as the auroriums I remembered, but twisted into something far more sinister.

“You will not be alone.” Malachai made a small gesture. “Corvus will accompany you, to oversee your mission.”

I cast a curious glance at the blindfolded warrior, who nodded slightly. Of course, many initial questions swarmed in my mind about this unexpected pairing, but from the short time I’d known Corvus, I learned that one did not need physical sight to know success or failure.

“You have four days to prove your worth,” Malachai continued. “Complete your task before the new moon rises, or do not return at all.”

The finality in his tone sent a cold shiver through me. The purple-black flames in the braziers dimmed, indicating the ceremony’s conclusion. The other blackguards stood and began to disperse.

I turned, about to follow the crowd to the exit, when I felt a strong hand touch my shoulder. Startled, I spun around, tightening my fist around the scroll, which felt heavy with purpose.

“Remember,” Malachai added. “You are no longer bound by mortal constraints. Show our enemies what true power means.”

Corvus moved to my side. His crows flew down from above and perched on his shoulders. “Meet me at the stables in one hour,” he instructed. “Bring only what you need. Where we’re going, excessive baggage will only slow us down.”

The chapel seemed to exhale as we exited, the massive doors closing behind us with a sound like a final breath. In the corridor outside, the ever-present twilight of Aetheria felt almost bright compared to the absolute darkness we’d just left.

I waited until I was alone in a shadowed alcove before untying the red sinew that bound the scroll. As I unrolled the parchment, dark energy crackled across its surface. The writing was in Infernal, but it no longer felt strange and illegible. It seemed my newfound powers allowed me to read and understand the ominous language fluently.

Mission Brief: The Serpent’s Fang Recovery

Contract Authority: High Acolyte Darwin Vesper of the Thirteenth Aurorium

Priority Level: Urgent

Security Classification: Shadow-Sealed

Situation Overview

The Serpent’s Fang, a ritualistic dagger used in blood sacrifices to our Dark Lord, has been stolen from the Thirteenth Aurorium’s inner sanctum. The theft occurred during the last new moon, suggesting the perpetrator has knowledge of our security rotations.

Target Details

Initial divination rituals have identified the thief as one Ramon Kessler, a former acolyte who was expelled for attempting unauthorized dark rituals. Intelligence suggests he plans to use the Fang in a corrupted ritual that would desecrate its connection to Lord Valic.

Ramon Kessler is a half-elf male, standing at approximately 5’10” with a lean build. He has pale skin, short black hair, and blue eyes that hold a manic gleam. His face is marked by a distinctive scar that runs from his left eyebrow down to the bridge of his nose.

Kessler was last seen wearing a dark, hooded robe, and a gold ring on his right middle finger adorned with various occult symbols.

Since his fall from grace, Kessler has become increasingly unstable and fanatical in his beliefs, making him both unpredictable and dangerous. Approach with extreme caution.

Known Capabilities:

- Trained in shadow manipulation (Apprentice level)

- Proficient in stealth and infiltration

- Possesses forbidden knowledge of our security protocols

- May have acquired additional dark artifacts

Mission Objectives

Primary:

- Recover the Serpent’s Fang intact

- Eliminate Ramon Kessler

- Return the artifact to the Thirteenth Aurorium

Secondary:

- Identify and eliminate any collaborators

- Recover any additional stolen artifacts

- Document any corrupted rituals for analysis

- Maintain secrecy of operation

Authorization Parameters

- Full lethal force authorized

- Shadow manipulation permitted in public if necessary

- Local authorities to be avoided or eliminated if they interfere

- Collateral damage acceptable within reasonable limits

Intelligence Notes

- Target last seen in the Lower Warren district

- Known to frequent the Crimson Veil tavern

- Has established connections with local thieves’ guild

- May be under protection of rival dark cults

Operational Constraints

- Artifact must be recovered intact

- Minimum public exposure of shadow powers

Risk Assessment

High Priority Threats:

- Target’s knowledge of Aurorium security

- Possible rival cult interference

- Local authority patrols

- Civilian witnesses

- Corrupted ritual completion

Known Security Measures:

- Thieves’ guild protection details

- Local guard patrols

- Civilian population density

- Possible magical wards and alarms

Success Criteria

- Serpent’s Fang recovered intact

- Ramon Kessler eliminated

- No traceable connection to the Aurorium

- All witnesses eliminated

- Mission completed within specified timeframe

Failure Conditions

- Artifact destroyed

- Public exposure of Aurorium activities

- Target escapes with knowledge intact

- Ritual completion with corrupted artifact

- Excessive civilian casualties drawing official investigation

Contingency Protocols

- Shadow extraction if compromised

- Dark ritual site destruction if discovered

- Witness elimination protocols

- Emergency communication sigils

Additional Notes

The Serpent’s Fang is particularly sensitive to light-based magic. Artifact handling should only be performed while wearing shadow-warded gloves.

By order of High Acolyte Vesper

(Sealed with the Shadow Mark of the Thirteenth Aurorium)

May the Dread Lord guide you.

The brief outlined clear objectives while allowing flexibility in execution—a perfect test of both initiative and loyalty. Four days to recover a powerful artifact, eliminate a traitor, and prove my worth to the order. But as I memorized every detail, I realized this was more than a simple recovery mission. The implications of what lay hidden within the thirteenth aurorium’s walls made the darkness in my veins pulse with anticipation. This mission would require all my new abilities, plus the skills I’d honed in my previous life. A fitting first task for a newly consecrated servant of Valic.

Rolling the parchment closed, I felt the weight of dark purpose settle over me like a familiar cloak. In one hour’s time, the Aetheria’s eternal twilight would find me on the path to Ebonheart, ready to begin my work.