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Thaellis A Kingdom Down Under
Book I : CHAPTER 7 – CURSES

Book I : CHAPTER 7 – CURSES

Aethin hurried along his favored passages, those that he, and a select few knew of. It allowed him to bypass many of the Lowly tunnels; those places that caused his heart to pound rapidly, and gave Fear the opening to spread through him.

Only here, in his private tunnels, was his vessel touched by the blessing of Calm. He knew it a foolish act to allow, the tunnels were only a step above the Lowly in craftsmanship. But it was better than nothing. The passages would at least hold long enough for help to arrive. Something that was not assured for many of the other passages making up the framework for the future settlement.

Those thoughts, and him reaching the end of the current passage, had the touches of Fear worsening. Hand shaking, he reached out and pressed upon the Warded stone. His Soul seeped into the grooves, and waited for the signal from the Wards to display all was clear.

With the Nightmare’s heightened activity, the tunnels would be full of Soulless and Lowly hurrying about completing tasks. All attempting to ready the nascent settlement as much as possible to hold off the maws of Death. Many of whom would be interested to learn there were grander passages already made, that would offer more protection. To which those of Aethin’s title did not want widely known.

However, contrary to the event that should have unfolded; with him waiting a few Sequences for the area to be clear. The Wards sent the signal that everything was already so. Confusion touched at him as he willed the block up, and quickly stepped out into the hall. As stone fell back into place, hiding the superior passage, Aethin gazed back and forth down the tunnel. The Wards signals were true, the area was empty, there was not a single Vail in sight.

Flexing his ears, he listened for the patter of paws, yet could hear none. Worry tugged on him again. Same as it had done when Maids hadn’t come to deliver supplies for the Newborns to feast upon, once they woke from their slumber.

‘Something is wrong.’ He told himself, and blatantly so. But he had a task to complete. One that had become grander due to his fellow’s failure to deliver a decent number of Newborn Chanters. Those three, only one of which who showed promise, would be needed.

‘This is such a bother for you.’ Whispered the Curse Lethargy. Its touch making his vessel heavy, and desire to lay about and relax. ‘Haven’t you done enough already?’ It asked. ‘You bestowed the Newborns as instructed; you’ve done your part. Why more?’

Aethin did not answer the Curse, he knew better than that now. Cycles worth of existence made sure of that. No matter what he said, the Curse would never be pleased with the answer. It would only pester him more. Instead Aethin headed down the left passage, it would lead to a small storage of food that would placate the Newborns.

‘I can do this for you.’ Lethargy continued. ‘Just submit to me, and I’ll take on the burdens. You’ll never have to lift another paw.’ The Curse offered and pressed upon him, his vessel growing wearier each time. Aethin pushed back at it, a force of will driving the worse of its touches away.

He was motivated for once, so he had the strength. Again, his life was in danger, or nearing the possibility of it. The lack of Maids and others traveling a commonly used tunnel told him something had changed; it was of little wonder. Seeing how the Cord to give them litters worth of Chanters had failed spectacularly.

‘Surely they don’t plan to abandon these well used paths?’ He thought, and quickened his stride. Ears perked, he tried desperately to hear others moving about.

He heard nothing, nor saw anyone, the event providing Fear ample nourishment to torment him with. Oddly, this proved to be a small boon. It helped him keep Lethargy in check as he hurried down halls, and reach another one of the hidden passages. He didn’t bother being subtle with its opening, since there wasn’t another Soul in sight. The block lifted at his command, and he hurried inside, breathing deep as the stone fell back into place.

Safe and touched by Relief, Lethargy decided to act up. ‘Look at you, wearing yourself out.’ Its very voice making Aethin feel weak. ‘Running, fretting over everything, this is no way to live. You should be relaxing.’ He felt a tug on his vessel, the thing trying to get him to sit. ‘Right against that wall there, it won’t hurt anyone, just a small rest.’

Again, the touches of Fear aided him in shrugging off Lethargy. Momentarily free of its touch, he strode forth down the winding halls. He couldn’t give in to the Curse, not like the times before when he was within the confines of a Sanctum. As well as a House, that had for a time, put up with his meager performance in tasks.

He was in a developing settlement now. One filled with other Marked, and expelled from the Giver’s favored grounds, to instead survive in the Depths with the Nightmare. No matter how much the Curse affected him, or when he aligned with its desires, could he allow himself to be taken by it; he had to press on. There wasn’t much in the form of defense now, between him and the cursed forms outside waiting to devour him. Though his Channels were of worthy stock; he wouldn’t last long out there alone. And that was exactly what would happen if he didn’t pull his weight.

How his mother would have laughed if she ever heard of him expelled from a settlement as well, then summarily consumed by the waiting Nightmares outside.

That thought gave him strength, and he found himself running. For once he ignored the illusion of safety around him, and focused on getting the Newborn Chanters ready to help secure as much of the settlement as possible. Which started with food; a bit of a problem that. As he, nor anyone else who knew of the hidden networks, had the blessed insight to have stored rations within the bounds of them.

Once current matters were dealt with, he would personally fix that oversight. But for now, he ran through the halls. Inwardly thankful that the ordeals the Newborns had been put through, had forced them into a deep slumber. However, it wouldn’t last, and when they woke in full, they would be famished.

Everyone knew that, Especially the Maids who were accustomed to caring for the needs of others. Yet they had not arrived, forcing him to perform the task of Lowly.

‘They already foiled up the ritual.’ Aethin thought. ‘Providing me with only three Chanters to train, and now they don’t offer supplies.’ If he didn’t know any better, he would be forced to assumed this was blatant sabotage of his Task. However, after spending Arcs with his new compatriots, that couldn’t be the case. Those that governed the establishment and growth of the settlement he was in, were incompetent. Such was the way of things when a Flock is made mostly of those Marked as worthless, or Curst.

So, he hurried along, trying to undo the damage of those that should have never been in a place of authority. At least their mistake had formed into a small boon for him. Maybe it was even a gift from the Giver herself.

Either way, he had the opportunity to be the first to influence the only Newborn that had come out of the ascendence intact. There was an intelligence in his eyes, unlike the other two. The Newborn also had specific traits that Aethin found perfect. Be it how he followed orders without question, his natural submissiveness, and the way the Newborn always showed respect; even though he’d certainly not been taught such.

‘He could do things for you,’ Lethargy whispered. ‘After some training of course.’ It added disapprovingly, the curse trying to press its weight on him. ‘He’ll have all these questions and demands too, and expect help from time to time.’ It prattled on, the same it had done before, when he’d considered forming a group of followers around him.

‘The work,’ it always protested. ‘How would you get the time to lounge, when you would be forced to organize tasks and keep people in line?’ It had asked.

At the time Aethin had listened to those words, falling victim to the Curst influence. Now with danger near, he found himself alone with the Curse, the thing offering its services, in return of allowing himself to be Consumed.

‘You tricked me once Curse.’ Aethin mentally said back to it. ‘Not again.’ The lesson had been learned, and made more potent as he ran down halls by himself; alone and being afflicted by Fear and Worry.

He would pressure the Newborns into being his first Acolytes, then turn his attention to others. He had the Channels to garner followers, as well as the resources. And while it was going to be a lot of work; it would be better than his current predicament. Maybe, once the settlement was established, he would lapse into old norms. Indulge in, and allow himself a deep rest, but no sooner, and never again if events remain as Cursed as they were now. He didn’t have the luxury anymore, like before when living in a Sanctum, sequestered away from the Lowly aspects of life that required work from him.

‘You only need to do one task a Rotation.’ His sister would say in urgent tones. ‘Mother only cares about the fact you’re not listening to her orders.’ He’d ignored the words of wisdom, instead listening to Lethargy and its talks that his mother wouldn’t do anything so troublesome.

The Curse had been completely wrong about that, and in turn both he and the Curse itself were touch by Shock, when his mother threw him out of the House, and forced them to join a Flock.

‘All because I couldn’t force myself to do one little task,’ he thought rounding a corner. ‘If only I could go back, I w-

He froze.

From his periphery he witnessed one of the Wards slightly change to green.

His gaze snapped to it so quickly, that a touch of Pain pricked his neck. He ignored the Curse as his full attention fell on the Ward; one that had already reverted to white.

He let out a quivering sigh, Relief beginning to touch him, only for his breath to catch in his throat; multiple Wards turned green for a Breath, before reverting to normal.

Aethin knew much about the Nightmare. Given he’d absorbed all the knowledge he could get his paws on, once he’d been assigned to a Flock. So, what he saw made his blood run cold as more Wards flickered green, then back to white in quick secessions.

‘Oh Giver! They’re marking out the settlement efficiently.’

They weren’t dealing with a mindless host then, or a swarm. Seeing as the Nightmare was showing signs of organization. Which meant he, and the entire settlement, were in far greater danger than any had envisioned.

Breathing in quick gasps, his vessel panicking; Aethin fell to the floor and curled into a ball. He stayed in that position for several Sequences, as he struggled for control.

‘It’s alright,’ Lethargy whispered comfortingly. ‘The Nightmare won’t get you; you can stay here lying-in comfort.’ Something brushed through his mane, the Curse drawing closer. ‘Even made of stone, I can make the floor soft.’

Aethin pulled his attention away from the Curse, aware of its intentions, given he’d fallen for it numerous times before. The Curse was trying to lull him into a sleep, or at least a daze, where he would remain motionless for Rounds.

Knowing this, Aethin mustered all the will he had, and forced his vessel up.

‘Stop,’ Lethargy Whispered louder. ‘You’ve done enough.’ It pressed on him, his vessel growing heavy. Yet he fought through it; the sight of the Wards giving him cursed strength. Using Fear, and the promise of Death coming to claim him, Aethin pressed on, soon running down the passages in flight.

Because of this, he reached the end of his personal hall in record time.

Still, the Wards had already returned to their blessed glow of tranquil white. No matter where he looked, or how long he stared, they remained the same. The probing of the Nightmare had moved on, and he had to do the same.

Not bothering to check if the passage beyond was clear, Aethin commanded the block to rise, and stuck his head out to survey the new tunnel.

Like those before, it was empty, the place abandoned. That sight invoked Fear, and a question formed by Worry. ‘Where has everyone gone?’ Aethin knew the answer, but didn’t want to dwell on it. Instead he hurried towards the alcove of supplies that would allow him to complete his task; Fear spurring him on as sections of the tunnel changed colors.

The Nightmare was mapping out the bounds of the Wards, once done, the swarm would strike. By then, Aethin had to have the Newborns ready enough to follow him to where everyone else was hidden.

A part of him, one taken by Fear, urged that he head towards the chamber designated the Core; to simply abandon the three Newborns under his charge.

That part of himself he also held in check. The Anointed had wanted a new host of Chanters to help secure the forming settlement. And though others had failed to deliver the desired amount. It was still his task to bring what few had been forged. If he came back with none, after it was made clear he’d been given some to train.

He would find his life ending abruptly, especially if Vernac got involved. The Anger taken Anointed would more than likely kill him if he were already upset enough.

That truth quieted the Fear-taken part of him. Kept his limbs moving and vessel obedient as he neared his destination.

With it came the sounds of activity. By their notes, he could tell Soulless were packing supplies.

‘I offer blessings Giver,’ he recited as he neared the entrance. ‘Let what I need still be present.’ He slowed his pace, composed himself as best he could, before blocking the entrance with his presence.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

As his ears had told him. Soulless, those bestowed the title of Servant, hurriedly gathered what little the trove had to offer. It was the last pieces of evidence he needed to accept the obvious. The section of network he was in, had been ordered abandoned. There was no other reason for a group of Servants to be sent to clear out the chamber.

Lucky for him though, that the Servants had just started their Task. The Giver had accepted his offered plea, and Aethin gazed upon a trove still full.

Stepping into the chamber, his mind already determining what best to take. Aethin noticed the Servants coming to a halt and bowing in his direction. Only one remained upright, but with his head lowered.

“Aethin Val Mentor, an honor to meet,” the Servant said. “Is there something we can help you with? I have some Servants ready for any packages you may need to be transported.”

Aethin gave the Soulless little attention as he gazed at some of the open chests and noted their contents. It wasn’t the finest fair, but it was blessed enough for what the Newborns needed.

Pointing at several chests lining the room, Aethin finally acknowledge the Servant with a command. “Have your men load enough food to fill four trays.”

Some of the Soulless began to move, eager to fulfil the request of a Worthy. But again, they halted after a Breath when their Taskmaster remained quiet. The Soulless who had risk speaking to him looked troubled, clearly wanting to rebuke his demand, but wise enough not to do so.

“It’s needed for Newborns.” Aethin added, giving the Taskmaster an excuse to use to his superiors.

The Servant still showed signs of hesitation, but like any proper Soulless, the Taskmaster motioned to the others to do as they’d been told. If he hadn’t, the Taskmaster would have been reminded to whom he was refusing. Aethin was Worthy, the Soulless a beast, he could merely kill them, and face no repercussions for the act.

But he pushed the thought away, everyone was needed by the display of events. It wasn’t a simple task to strip a large section of the tunnels of its supplies; not if swiftness was desired.

‘How far does this task reach?’ He wondered, while afflicted by Worry. The Curse troubling him as he waited on the Servants. They moved quick, eager to please, and likely eager for him to be gone.

When the food was collected onto large trays, which would require several Servants to carry. Aethin performed a simple chant causing them to float, they would continue to do so, as long as he fed Anima to his hymn.

With their task done he left the Servants without any form of farewell, four trays following behind. The emptiness of the tunnels became a small boon after, since he didn’t have to manipulate the trays to ensure they didn’t collide with others. That and the open displays of food would have tempted some to quietly pilfer from the platters while he passed.

Things were not, however, all divine. As he traveled, his heart drumming in his chest, all sides of the tunnel flashed from white to green.

He wanted to run, but the trays wouldn’t be able to keep up with him; not without pouring more Anima into the chant. With the Nightmare preparing to assault their lacking defenses, Aethin refrained from this, his might would be needed for different matters soon. It had him maintain his fast walk, while his head was mostly aimed down at the floor. It spared him from seeing the whole tunnel being probed, though he could still hear them. a soft pulse rippled the air, easily noticeable due to so many Wards going off at once.

It mixed with his singing as he strolled down curst halls. Offering the entire time for a patrol to appear, the group ready to maintain the Wards when the Nightmare attacked.

Alas none appeared, leaving him alone with cursed thoughts all the way to the hidden block.

Which wasn’t hidden anymore.

With every surface often shifting colors, the unchanging and uniform white made the block stand out as clearly as if it were open. It beckoned to him, the promise of safer tunnels, only the tug of his chant kept him from rushing ahead.

Forced to maintain a quick walk, Aethin suffered an extra dozen Breaths before reaching the block and ordering it to rise. He stopped mid stride when the sight within came into view.

His personal tunnel was being measured again, though with far more force. His chanting nearly broke as he stared down the hall. Wards were yellow, the Nightmare looking for a weak point to strike, which meant time was nearly up.

‘Forget this troublesome task.’ Lethargy whispered urgently. ‘Abandon the Newborns, and head for the Core.’ It pressed on him, leaning in. ‘They’ll forgive you. It’s not like those three will make any difference.’

Fear half aligned with Lethargy; he should flee. But another part of the Curse reminded him what could happen if he showed up alone.

That thought in mind, Aethin willed his vessel forward, the trays slowly following behind. Once all was inside, he had the block come crashing down, and turned his sights back down the passage. Taking a few centering breaths, Aethin forced himself forward, each step a battle of will.

As before, he kept his head down, but as time passed, he also closed his eyes. The pulsing within the air was enough for his ears to provide him a clear map of the surrounding surfaces.

The weight of Curses lessoned with him free of the vexing images, allowing his steps to quicken, and before long he was back to his hurried pace.

It still felt like an age had passed by the time he reached the end; his heart fluttering with the touches of Joy as he placed his hands on the block. Slowly he peeked open one of his eyes, Relief flooding him when he saw the tranquil glow of white. It appeared the passage beyond was still whole, not yet breached.

He still connected, and waited for a prompt that would signal all was clear, before ordering the stone to rise.

When the block did, the sight beyond revealed, he let out a low strangled cry that broke his chanting. That fact was lost to him though, his mind taken by the sight. He nearly had the block crashing back down.

The Wards of the Lowly tunnel were all red.

Panic gasps began to echo down the tunnel as he placed a hand over his pleading heart. For a Sequence or more, he was stuck in place, his vessel refusing to obey his commands.

His eyes were locked on the scene, forced to watch the Wards continually pulse out their warning lights. His trained eyes perceived the slow withering of the Ward network, the entirety of it dimming.

The fact, and the sound of trays clattering on the floor behind him, got Aethin to muster all his will. He hummed anew, fighting the jittering of his jaw, and released his will upon the realm. Up the trays went, ready to follow, as he forced a reluctant vessel into a passage marked by the Nightmare to be breached.

Fear coursed through his limbs, the Curse fighting with itself as it both hindered, and aided him down the hall. Lethargy remained quiet as he endured the affliction of one of its broods.

Blessed that.

For he didn’t have any strength left to spare on it. Every step took all his focus, the urge to run for the Core a growing desire clawing itself into his vessel.

It was only the promise of Death that kept him committed to his task. All useable Chanters were needed, more than any of them had conceived; especially now that ascending most of the worthy Newborns had failed.

‘A Curse upon you Vernac,’ Aethin thought. For who else was there to blame? Was it not his role to ensure all went well? Yet all Aethin had been bestowed was three Newborns, only one of whom had come out of the Cord whole.

It was satisfying to have someone to blame and spout Curses upon as he marched through a condemned passage. The act a test of will that he would have failed Arcs back, before he’d experienced a Hollowing, and the lowly existence of living outside a Sanctum.

Still, he came close to faltering, and may have if the passage had gone on for much longer. But Relief was before him now, its form that of a block, glowing white with beckoning Wards.

He blinked and wiped away the tears forming in his eyes, making sure the sight wasn’t a curst illusion meant to shatter his thinning will.

But the sight remained true, and falling to the impulse for speed, Aethin increased the strength of his Chant. Rushing ahead, the trays doing likewise, he practically fell upon the block once he was close enough. He pressed his hands against it, pleading to the Wards for the stone to rise.

So taken by the desire to be removed from the crimson passage, he didn’t even conceive of what dangers may lay beyond the block. It only occurred to him the moment he gazed within.

A muffled cry of Joy almost broke his chant. The hall was bathed in the holy color of safety. Dashing forward, and ferrying the trays inside, he slammed the block down. Then, free of the crimsoned curse, Aethin finally allowed himself a moments rest, and reveled in the feeling, the soothing knowledge, that the passage was not assaulted by the Nightmare.

Why this was so? Aethin didn’t know for sure. It could have been the Wards were too much of a hindrance to break, or the path didn’t connect to enough locations. Either way, he didn’t care now, as he laid on the floor, his vessel shivering violently.

‘Look at you.’ His Curse said in a mournful tone. ‘Worked yourself to exhaustion for those who’ve abandoned you.’ Aethin did his best to ignore it, even as it brushed his scalp. ‘You should rest now, I can handle everything else, take the burdens off your shoulders. That way you can sleep with Peace for the rest of your life.’

Always the same goal, submission.

That was what the Curse wanted, him and his vessel at its disposal. An instrument to spread its influence over more Vail weak enough to listen. But Aethin was not weak, he knew what lay down that path, even when it seemed so alluring. He’d been bestowed the visions of those that ended up Consumed, and he would have no part of it.

‘How pleased they would be, to hear me fall into such a state.’ Most of his siblings would have laughed themselves raw, before removing his name from the House records.

The image of it, those smug grins, endowed Aethin with enough strength to stand, and ignore Lethargy’s mutterings, as he headed down the tunnel.

His pace was slow and accompanied with him resting a hand on a wall as he moved. His need for urgency was behind him, he was close now. The paths left to take would be short. That and he was mentally drained from his numerous tests with Curses.

He didn’t have the largest reserve of will, since his Rotations had mostly involved lounging about and socializing with others of his Worth. Threatening situations were a rarity, at least after they’d put up the foundation of a Safeground. Which he was being continually reminded was not all that safe.

‘The Scouts were undertrained and not the best sort to begin with, but this?’ He muttered mentally. ‘This is too much of a mess-up even for them.’ He recalled the reports he’d heard in idle conversation. How incursions were becoming more frequent, and the weaker breed of Nightmares were gathering in larger numbers.

It had been enough to form Concern, and questions. One of the topics being whether they had the numbers to hold onto the sprawled-out network they had made. A quick look into the subject had made the answer a resounding no. Hence the reason for the rushed ascension of worthy Newborns. Yet from all the talks and Worry infused discussions. There had been no thought about encountering a swarm; the reports were far removed from hinting at such a threat.

And yet, he’d witnessed such an event with his own eyes. The Nightmare had arrived in numbers not planned for, and with the intent to take the settlement.

Not the finest thoughts to have when he approached the end of the passage.

Taking a few deep breaths, Aethin readied himself as much as he could and raised the block. His eyes were met with orange light, a hue that would have gotten him trembling furiously. But he’d just emerged from a tunnel of crimson. So the sight was lessened; still, it caused his jaw to tighten, and attempt to break his hymn.

But he persevered.

Head down, and stride quickening. Aethin spent the short trip through the hall reciting offerings to the Giver.

His devotion was rewarded as he took note of the gradual change from orange, to yellow, green, and finally white. The Wards promising all was safe.

Even aware of the lie, he and his vessel readily accepted the delusion. His vessel relaxed as he reached the hidden entrance, and hurried inside.

A breath from Relief left his lips, and a smile marked his face. The last stretch of his journey was glowing white.

‘Blessed be the Giver and her sons.’ Aethin finished, before focusing on the present and the task needing completion. He was going to have to rush their training, and devoid them of any time to practice. He and the Newborns needed to hurry to the Core as soon as possible, and find out just how bad events had become.

Such thinking’s came to a halt however, same with his vessel, as he gazed ahead. Blinking a few times, then squinting. Aethin forced his mind to accept the fact that one of the Newborn was in the tunnel laying on his stomach.

The Anima within Aethin quickened when he got close enough to see it was his soon to be Acolyte. Approaching carefully, his Soul and vessel ready to unleash a chant. He came upon the lying form, no threats in sight, the Wards silent, and their glow holy. The only red, that accursed color, to mark the tunnel came from the Newborn. Said individual was naked and in need of grooming. His fur a mess of dried blood, the substance tainting his silver and dull gold coat. Yet Aethin couldn’t see any wounds, nor was there a pool of crimson under the Newborn.

The grips of Fear holding Aethin waned, and gave way to Confusion, as he studied the Newborn. From the patterns of blood, he could tell the signs of a fight with claws. That and the traces of skin left on the Newborn’s nails. His Acolyte had been in an altercation, appeared to have won, and then performed a restoration chant.

‘What a wonder you are.’ Aethin thought, and casted a hymn upon the sleeping form.

Up the Newborn rose, hovering in the air and joining the trays. Aethin moved the body so he could see the front. It too was covered in bloody stains, most of it at the shoulders and upper arms. But that detail was mostly ignored by Aethin, as he focused on the Newborn’s neck and inner arms.

Noticeable Channels laid there, Channels that had grown dimmer.

‘Yes, it was you.’ Aethin concluded, his interest in the Newborn heightened. To perform a chant on his own, only recently bestowed and given no time to practice. Not to mention his vessel had gone through swift changing, and his mind should have been a mess of murky thoughts. Made the specimen before him a prize waiting to be claimed.

‘The Giver has blest me.’ Aethin thought, placing a hand on the Newborn’s chest.

The touch didn’t enact a response, to be expected. The Newborn had been through much in such a short span of time. Pulling his eyes from the sleeping form, Aethin headed towards the endowing chamber.

Approaching the entrance, his ears picked up on the low shuffling sounds of a form, accompanied by nervous whimpers. Peeking inside, his hymn echoing into the chamber, Aethin saw the source. The woman Newborn was carefully crawling about, her ears, and now head trained on his location.

“Claim?” The Newborn meekly said. Aethin didn’t answer, since his attention was focused on her sunken eyes.

‘Oh Giver,’ Aethin thought.

“You can be highest.” Said the crippled Newborn, her voice submissive as she carefully headed towards him. “Just, help me.”

Aethin smiled at the words, another blessing laid in his hands. “I will, Newborn,” Aethin said in a soothing tone. Though it still caused the Worthy to halt in her advance, it wasn’t the voice she was expecting after all.

“But it’s going to cost you,” Aethin continued as he entered the chamber. “Healing your eyes is a higher chant, it will take a great deal more focus, and some Anima from me.” The damaged Newborn stayed mute while he guided the trays and sleeping Worthy to the center of the chamber.

“But,” Aethin added. “Agree to be one of my Acolytes for a minimum of three Arcs, which entails that you do all that I demand, and I’ll heal your eyes.”

No swift answer came, the blind Newborn, even Soulless minded as she was; still had the sense to evaluate his offer. He used the time to place the sleeping Worthy gently on the floor, as well as the trays before ending his chant. He replaced it with another, removing the blood from both Newborns; making them appealing to gaze at.

“I accept.” His new Acolyte said, sounding resigned. An arrogant one, thinking herself higher than she was. Even the clueless Newborn, who was scrunched into a ball sleeping, had grander Channels than her.

“Wise choice,” Aethin said.

‘No matter, she’ll learn her place, or be abandoned with a Mark on her record.’

“Now stay still and don’t scratch at your eyes.” He spoke before his hymn echoed the chamber again.

Unlike the simple chants he was accustomed to, performing them effortlessly, this one, both unfamiliar and complicated, forced him to concentrate. He still enacted it flawlessly, and received a gasp of Joy from the woman.

“Now then, with that done, you’ll tell me what happened while I was gone.” Aethin instructed, as he smiled down at his next prize to claim.