Chapter 21

"A curious thing- life. So much better savored in death."

– First Era Necromancer Ferax

Melantha nervously approached the raised dais, her loose robe flowing behind her. The man standing within the boundaries of the grace there stared into a large simple ceramic bowl bearing no decorations. She knew he would be using the water therein to watch his minions carry out her directions and his will. The Eternal had explained his reasons for the bowl shortly after she had raised him. He could easily enter the minds of his creatures, but doing so was taxing allowing the original spirit to take hold of the flesh. As he approached final manifestation he preferred to remain in control of his host body more often.

He was wrapped in a heavy blue wool robe she had prepared for him. It was cinched closed by a simple strip of black silk. Underneath she knew he wore knee length baggy wool trousers of a dark brown color and nothing else. The simple deerskin boots she had offered had been tossed aside with contempt. She noted his face had still yet to grow a beard despite his shoulder length hair hanging in shaggy waves from his head. A quirk of the magic used to regenerate the flesh, she supposed. Despite her nervousness, or perhaps because of the reason for it, she was relieved to see that he seemed pleased by whatever he was seeing in the bowl as the magic in his eyes swirled and twisted.

He turned to her and smiled broadly. For a moment she admired the handsome face before reminding herself of what she was looking at. The Eternal was getting better everyday at mastering the flesh's movements, actions, and speech patterns. So good in fact that were it not for the tell tale ever-present changing magic in the eyes she would be hard pressed to know who she spoke with: the original spirit the body belonged to or the Eternal.

"She comes, Melantha." He grinned, looking incongruously like a little boy.

Melantha nearly stumbled as she lurched to a halt at the Eternal's words, confused that he was not already raging at her over what happened.

"You know then, my Lord?" She asked meekly. "I assure you I didn't know about the attack until it was too late."

"The attack on the Fulani?" He snorted dismissively. "Irrelevant."

"But she could have been harmed," Melantha pointed out cautiously.

"Perhaps," he conceded, giving her a brief glance of warning. "But not by your order."

"Of course not," she readily agreed, relieved to see his smile return once more.

He chuckled to himself. "Soon all will be in place." He turned to face her, quickly stripping away the robe he wore, letting it pool at his feet. "We must prepare for the final ceremony. And bring me the instrument of truth," he demanded.

"Of course but…"

"What?" He snapped, causing her to flinch as she felt his magic lash her, a small cut forming on her hand.

"The Laguia and the Fulani huntsmen have joined together to defeat us. Defeat you, I wa…" Melantha choked as she felt the invisible tendrils of magic wrapped around her neck, squeezing tightly.

"Your people turn against me?" He snarled. "After all I've done."

"Please!" Melantha gasped as she felt his magic release at her hoarse plead.

Rubbing her neck she rose to her feet, anger at the words of betrayal from the elders fueling her. She had sacrificed so much to save her people, only to have them betray her. She saw now the fool she had been to think her people were worth saving. That any of the corrupt world deserved saving. The Eternal was correct in saying the world, all existence itself, needed to be purged.

"Grant me an army, and I will destroy them all, Master."

"Even your own people, Melantha?" The Eternal's knowing smile was now mocking and cruel. "Is that not the true reason you brought me here? To protect them from your enemies and once I had done so you planned to banish me once more."

She raised her head, unafraid anymore to hide her secrets from the Eternal. The Eternal had never lied to her. In fact, he trusted her, guided her, and awakened her to the true vileness of the world. "I was a misguided fool. I thought they were pure, uncorrupted. You've raised the veil of deceit from my eyes, Master. Let me now do your will and destroy all that oppose you. Let me purge the world of its corruption."

"Then come." He gestured for her to approach. "Accept my mark."

Melantha swallowed in trepidation, but then remembered the scorn of the elders and found it lacking against the trust the Eternal had shared in her. She hurried toward him stopping at the edge of grace. He smiled at her hesitation as he gestured for her to join him in the grace that pulsed beneath him.

"Come, be not afraid. No true servant of mine can be harmed by the power of the grace," he said holding out a hand, the one missing a finger, to her.

Without hesitation she stepped into the grace surprised at the euphoria that swept over her. Her breath was taken away in a wash of pleasure. She felt strong arms encircle her, support her as her knees buckled, holding her close. She was surprised at how warm his flesh felt as her hand rested on his sweat slick skin. After recovering herself she looked at him and found herself smiling at his own amused expression.

"Master," she whispered further words cut off as he suddenly kissed her deeply, tongue demanding entrance against her lips. Awash in desire she readily granted him access, moaning. She inhaled sharply and tried to pull back as he viciously bit her lower lip, but his hands held her head in place. The taste of blood was on her tongue as he suckled the wound briefly before pulling back.

She panted in nervous excitement as she saw him lick his stained lips, one hand releasing her neck as she felt him settle the nail of his thumb of her forehead. Without comment she winced as she felt the nail bite into her flesh painfully drawing blood, but remained silent as he continued to mark her forehead. Only the slight sting in her eyes revealed the pain that emanated from his cuts, each one adding to the feeling of liquid fire burning in her veins.

Finished he wiped the trickle of blood from her forehead and nose, painting patterns on her cheeks before offering his hand to her.

"Feast upon me and drink what is yours," he commanded as he pressed his hand against her lips.

She bit down as hard as she could; until she could taste the blood fill her mouth run down her chin. She swallowed once pulling back her head and shrieking as she felt power slide into her, overwhelm her senses. All she could feel was the energy surging through her, her heart pounding so hard she was sure it would burst through her chest, breath searing her lungs and her blood boiling.

Before she knew it, the world came back to her. The Eternal now stood behind her; one hand steadying her at the waist as another gently rubbed her spine, between the shoulder blades.

"Raise my servants," he whispered into her ear causing her to shiver at the sensation.

"I don't know how," she replied shakily, breathing still somewhat erratic.

"Feel it. I have given you the power," he insisted softly. "You are my High Priestess, Melantha. Show me you are worthy."

Melantha closed her eyes, aware he pulled away from her only by the absence of his body heat. She felt the power surge in her and instinctually reach out. Unconsciously she reached out with her hands, words coming to her lips, the power spiking within her as she ended the chant on a scream and collapsed to her knees.

"Priestess."

Melantha looked up at the raspy voice, gasping in delight at the dozen creatures before her. Some were vaguely human with gray flesh and glowing green eyes, very similar to the ghouls the Skinflayer had raised. Others were more bone than flesh, beasts of spikes and teeth and claws. And still others were ethereal, smoke like creatures emanating death itself, wisps of lethal smoke waiting.

"Very good, my Priestess," The Eternal purred.

Melantha rose, smiling in pleasure at the Eternal's approval. She turned to him, bowing deeply as she grasped his hand and kissed it, licking at the bloody bite mark she had left there. "Thank you, Master. I will use your gift to slaughter your enemies."

He smiled down at her. "Of course you will, my Priestess. But first you must gather your followers. Raise as many minions as you require and bring me the White Mistress and the instrument of truth."

"But I don't know what this instrument of truth is, Master," Melantha admitted.

"She possesses it," The Eternal stated simply. "Find her and you will find it."

"Yes, Master," she replied. She slipped closer to him, her fingers seductively tracing patterns on his bare chest as she smiled at him. "Is there anything else I could do for you, Master?"

His looked at her blankly. "No, why?"

Melantha backed away, flustered and confused at his indifference. "I'm sorry, I thought you, I mean – you kissed me."

"I was curious," he replied. "In this host's memories it seemed important."

"Kissing me was important?" Melantha asked in confusion.

"No, not you. The equal of this flesh." The Eternal looked puzzled. "Having tried this kissing I do not see the point in it."

"With the right person, it is its own sort of magic," Melantha replied, silently berating her foolishness. "It can be quit pleasurable."

"It was a pale experience." The Eternal decided. "But I'll defer to your understanding in this realm. Attend to the capture of the Mother Confessor."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Richard."

"Richard!"

Richard groaned, pain echoing through him, as he opened his eyes to find himself back in the peaceful glen with the small pond and waterfall. Sighing as the pain faded along with the terrible memory he rolled onto his back. He startled at seeing a man there dressed in rich red robes with gold trim and long dark hair brushing his shoulders. He frowned for a moment, considering him before recognition came and with it attendant memories.

"Darken Rahl." Richard said his older brother's name contemptuously.

Darken Rahl smiled slightly, looking strained even as he did so, sweat on his forehead.

"Hello, little brother. I haven't much time," Rahl said wincing as if in great pain. "You must not listen to the Eternal. It is lying to you."

"And you think I'll believe you?" Richard asked skeptically.

"No," Rahl said with a shake of his head. "But you value life above all else. The Eternal will snuff out that life if you give it what It wants."

"The Eternal says it wants to end suffering. Fix the mistakes the Creator made," Richard said.

Darken Rahl shook his head. "The Eternal is lying to you Richard. If you don't believe me, look at what it's doing to you."

Richard shook his head. "It's done nothing to me!"

Rahl stormed over to Richard stopping short of grabbing him by the shoulders. "Stop deluding yourself, Richard. Stop hiding here from your mistakes. From the torture the Eternal is putting you through."

Richard looked uncertain. "It's necessary."

Rahl scowled. "You're supposed to be the Seeker of Truth, Richard. Self delusion does not become you. Look and see for yourself."

Rahl's words cut off as he screamed in pain, falling to his knees. Richard grasped his shoulder, flinching in pain at the touch as his brother's apparition disappeared.

A soft, feminine laugh drifted to Richard's ear. Cruel. Mocking. "Who was that, Richard?"

Richard slowly turned to the woman now standing beside him. He swallowed hard, doubt entering his mind at her intentions. "My brother. He's dead."

"Curious," the Eternal noted. "Why would you recreate your dead brother? I thought he was harming you."

Richard was surprised at that. The Eternal had never manipulated this place before to his knowledge save to appear. "So you sent him away? You thought he was going to hurt me?"

"Of course, Richard. Great harm can come from those we least expect it from," the Eternal replied easily, a gentle smile on her face that was pleasant but did not touch the eyes. "They can sow seeds of doubt our enemies can exploit."

Richard nodded slowly. "You're right of course. I-I'm not sure why I even brought him here."

The Eternal smiled, this time genuinely. "Well it is an imperfection that was easily fixed."

"Is that how you'll fix the world when you manifest?" Richard asked. "It's that simple?"

"For me, it is as simple as a thought, Richard." The Eternal looked concerned and came close to him, resting a palm gently on his cheek. It wasn't warm, as he expected, but cold and lacking gentleness. "But simple doesn't mean without consideration. I need your faith to help guide my hand in the world we will create. Do I have your faith? Your trust?"

Richard nodded slowly. "Yes, Eternal."

"Good," She leaned in and kissed his cheek gently, her lips leaving him feeling cold. "Your mistress will be here soon. Have you made your decision?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm not certain."

"There's still time," the Eternal replied. "But time grows short."