Channeling his energy through the orb, Abe had steered it through the mountains. Between the astral vision provided by the orb and his own array of senses, he could pilot the windowless vessel without the need for any instruments.

The finer elements of piloting the vessel were lost to him, and bringing it down safely was no easy task.

Flying the rusted heap that looked like it had fallen straight out of a Second World War battle, Abe had found a sheltered spot behind the mountain range that bordered the valley. Doing so had been the first time he noticed the aurora borealis-like bubble that lined the sky beyond the surrounding mountain range.

He didn’t need its purpose explained. The vision provided by the orb made it clear that the barrier defined the domain's edge and, with it, the spacial tear that separated it from other Deathscape domains. Passing through it would require creating a bridge through the Vale, which was only possible with adequate energy.

He looked down at the submarine, nestled amongst the snow after climbing up from the plateau he landed on, and then turned back toward the manor.

The way back was quite treacherous and would likely lead to death if attempted by a human without appropriate gear and training. Abe, however, had left his weak, mortal shell behind long ago.

The frost didn't bite, and the strain of climbing across a rocky range blanketed in snow barely broke a sweat, or whatever the equivalent was for a ghoul.

Still, it was no afternoon trek, and several hours passed, and the sun fell behind the horizon as he climbed.

Fatigue hit differently now. He struggled to compare it to what little he remembered of his human life. He hungered for Nia’s blood, and in a way, he even yearned for his room and the bed within. It wasn’t aches or fatigue as a human would feel it, though. He wasn’t even sure if the desire was based on a need or, instead, a nostalgia for his human past.

Even his wounds had started to heal already, thanks to the stitch-like effect of the worms. Working in tandem with his ghoul blood, empowered by Miss Nia, his healing had taken a serious upgrade.

He knew part of his fatigue came from his weakening blood and that feeding on Miss Nia’s blood would rejuvenate him. But this desire for rest was beyond that.

Passing through the gardens, Abe sighed audibly as he stepped through the front door.

Ricky appeared floating out from the direction of the Kennels.

“Look who it is,” he announced, drifting toward Abe’s dirtied visage and damaged body beneath torn clothing. “The prodigal son returns.”

“Shut up, Ricky.”

“Touchy. Just came to congratulate you on taking out the anomalies. Whatever you two did, it worked. Mistress is going to be happy about this. And when she’s happy, that generally means less work for Ricky.”

“Good.”

“Good, that’s it?” Ricky curled a bony brow.

“Thirsty,” Abe added, walking toward the kitchen.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Ricky chattered, floating around Abe as he walked. “You’re acting weird. What happened out there?” he added with a sniff.

“Thirsty.”

“That’s not it. There’s something you’re not telling me. Come on, spit it out.”

“Since when were you ever this talkative?”

“Since you started behaving strangely. Come on, I thought we were pals.”

“Since when,” Abe groaned.

“Seriously? You gain a bit of power and start acting like you’re better than me?

Forget about it,” Ricky’s eyes flashed bright purple flames. “I’ll ask Elissa. At least I know how she works. Or I think I do. Where is she anyway?”

“Not here.”

“I can see that. I’m missing a body, not eyes. Hey, hey, wait! I said wait!”

“Busy,” Abe grunted as he reached the blood pack freezer.

Ricky floated in front of Abe’s face as he pulled the fridge door open.

“Tell me, where is she?”

“Long story,” Abe said, pulling out a blood back. “Do you mind?”

“Not until you start talking. Now spill the beans, pal.”

“Fine,” Abe groaned and arched his head back. “We got into a fight, okay? Now, can you defrost this for me?”

“No way, Jose. I’m going to need a little more than that.”

“She’s dead,” Abe said, raising the blood pack up to Ricky’s face.

“What do you mean she’s dead?” Ricky said, floating to the side and catching Abe’s eyes.

“What do you think? Dead, like not fucking moving. Can you please? I’m thirsty.”

“That’s not what I meant, wise guy. How’d she die?”

“We got into a fight, remember?”

Ricky stared silently at Abe for a moment, his brow of bone slowly creaking up.

“No…” Ricky shook. “That’s not possible. You barely learned to walk. There’s no way you could have killed Elissa.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Well, I did,” Abe said, moving the blood pack back into Ricky’s face.

“Seriously?” Ricky said, moving back to face Abe.

“Yes, now pay up!”

“Fine,” Ricky murmured and his eyes burst into blue flames and the blood pack softened as it liquified.

“Finally,” Abe grunted, tearing a corner off with his mouth and drinking it down.

Within seconds, his wounds began healing, and a satisfying jolt of revitalizing energy coursed through his body.

“So how’d it go down? I need details.”

“What’s to say?” Abe shrugged. “She went insane. Accusing me of lying and stealing.”

“Yeah, well, at least that part is believable. But how on earth did you manage to beat her?”

“Maybe I’m stronger than you think?”

“That’s kind of obvious, isn’t it? I’m asking for details, pal. Not snark.”

“It’s not like it was easy. But I’ve got my ways, and I might have managed to pick up some help along the way. You can call them my little friends,” Abe chuckled.

“Yeah, I don’t like it when you chuckle like that. What little friends are you talking about?” Ricky said, squinting at Abe as he drifted closer to his face.

“Hey, personal space,” Abe said, sending Ricky swirling away with a backhand.

Ricky narrowed at Abe.

“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. Fine, I doubt it’ll stay a secret anyway. That necromancer, he tried infecting me with something, and well, it didn’t work.”

“Go on,” Ricky bobbed.

“Bazaarbus referred to them as meatworms. They’ve been pretty useful so far.”

“Meatworms! Gross, Abe. You know what those little parasites do?”

“They saved my life.”

“They worm their way through your veins and take control of you, turning you into a slave for their master. Which would be that necromancer that infected you.”

“Well, he’s dead. And after I killed him, they seemed pretty happy to help me drain his energy.”

“Really? Now, that’s interesting. I didn’t think that was possible.”

“What didn’t you think was possible?”

“If they helped you kill the necromancer, that means that their allegiance changed. Undead hierarchy is usually quite strict. And while there are exceptions, minions rarely go against their masters.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’m special.”

“You’re more right about that than you realize. Those worms are like the blood Mistress Nia infected you with. Just like her blood provided you with power that turned you into a ghoul if nurtured, you can evolve into something greater, and so can the worms. The weak, black-cloaked things that have been running around the domain are essentially a necromancer’s equivalent of an unawoken ghoul. However, that invader had no deathly energy to feed his creations, so they were as weak as they came. But if they had managed to feed, much like you can, they would have evolved as well. And eventually, they could have become necromancers themselves.”

“Does that mean…”

“I dunno,” Ricky shook. “You’re already a ghoul. Also, those worms don’t seem to act the same within you. If they did, you’d have turned into one of those black cloaks. But that doesn’t mean they can’t consume energy and evolve. Look, there’s a lot of weird shit that happens in the Deathscape, and I understand a tiny fraction of it.”

“So, you think they’re a good thing?”

“Can’t say. But I can tell you’re getting stronger already. I mean, hell, you beat Elissa. The worms may have helped, but they didn’t do it for you. If they could, those black cloaks would have been able to kill her themselves. If the worms become troublesome, you should be able to get rid of them easily enough.”

“I was just wondering what your opinion was. I’m not worried about them.”

“Well, good for you I guess. Look, I’ll give you a little advice—even though you’ve been a bit of an ass since you’ve been back. Don’t hide anything from the Mistress. For starters, she’ll see right through it. And secondly, she’s unlikely to take the news of your little friends well. Their existence essentially underminds her control of you. And honestly, if it weren’t for her taking such an interest in you already, I’d consider them a death sentence.”

“Really,” Abe muttered, glancing down at his hands. He didn’t want anything that could come between him and Miss Nia. Not only was he no match for her, but he didn’t want to be her enemy. No, that was the last thing he was interested in. But he wasn’t about to get rid of the worms either. It seemed pretty obvious at this point that they could shorten his distance to power, and that was still his main goal.

“Look, I’m not trying to scare you. She values you in more ways than I care to understand. I’m just saying don’t push it. Lying or hiding things from her might be just enough to push her over the edge.”

“Got it. Don’t keep secrets.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Abe waved dismissively. “By the way, Ricky, I just thought of something.”

“What’s that?”

“Give me a moment,” Abe said, marching out of the kitchen.

“Wait, seriously? I don’t like this dynamic, you know!” Ricky yelled. “I’m still your senior!”

A minute later, Abe strolled down the stairs whilst Ricky waited in the foyer.

“So, what is it?” Ricky said.

“Take a look at this,” Abe said, producing the nesting doll. “I kind of forgot about it. Thought it was worth testing with that thing of yours in the Kennels.”

“Ah,” Ricky nodded. “I’ve been looking for that slippery little thing. How do you keep stumbling upon things?”

Abe shrugged, “it was in the attic.”

“Peculiar, I’ve searched the attic dozens of times. Ah, whatever, come on,” Ricky said, turning to the Kennels. “We better test that thing out.”

Abe carried the nesting doll downstairs, and when they arrived at the workbench, Ricky's blue flames lit it up and carried it across the last stretch.

“Stand back,” Ricky said as he fed the nesting doll to his contraption.

Energy flooded out from the workbench, forcing Abe to take a step back as he disengaged his energy sight to spare his eyes from the blinding purple light that had shone from whatever Ricky was repairing.

“Oh, It certainly likes that,” Ricky chattered and floated back.

Even without his sight, Abe could feel the energy flooding from the device and meld with the house and the well beneath it. Whatever it was, it was closely related to the manor and likely the enter domain.

As another wave of energy pulsed out, Abe’s ears tingled at the sound of heels tapping against tiles. He turned his head upward, staring at the ceiling.

“She’s home, isn’t she?”

Abe nodded.

“We can come back to this,” Ricky said, turning toward Abe. “Come on then.”

The two of them peered around the corner as they reached the ground floor.

Her dress mushroomed out from her waist, brought in by a belt that sat beneath her corset. Black, partially transparent sleeves covered her exposed skin, traveling from her fingers up and across her neck—with only a spot across her chest revealing the milky white skin that was beneath.

“All yours, pal,” Ricky whispered and disappeared back down to the Kennels.

“You, my room, now,” Miss Nia said, glancing over to Abe before promptly climbing the stairs.

Behind her, Kearn walked, pausing to pass a cold stare at Abe.

Swallowing, Abe stared up the stairs and took slow, trepidous steps. His chest thumped as if an invisible whip had latched itself around it upon her arrival—drawing him in.

If strength was what she wanted, he had gone out and proven just that, Abe reminded himself. Why should he fear now? But the feeling refused to dissipate. He knew he had changed and that the power provided by the worms was unorthodox.

“No one can serve two masters or something like that,” Abe shook his head.

Masters?

Abe glanced down at his arms. He was the master in this relationship. There was no doubting that, hell, the necromancer was dead. Was that better or worse?

Was it proof he would remain neither slave nor servant?