He was so close. Today his long, hard years of investigation would finally pay off. This last decade of his life searching for this prize, the thing that would propel him into greatness and place him far beyond the power of that fool that had attempted to restrain him.

His lip curled up into a sneer as he thought of his first master. The fool had been useful, that was fact, but he was too limited, too easily manipulated to truly teach him the mysteries of magic. All he had been good for was explaining the great power he had been born with and teaching him the basics.

Perhaps he would have been forced to stay under the fool's heel, learning at a snail's pace while the power that burned in his blood demanded to be set free upon the world. Eventually he had managed to blind the fool to even the most obvious abuses of his power – he had begun to suspect that his own magic aided his manipulations – and was free to test his power upon the townspeople.

That wasn't a mistake. He reveled in the numerous opportunities his power gave him.

Did he desire something? Did he simply want to see something scream as he casually wove an illusion of pain around them? Did he want to laugh at the terror in their eyes?

Magic was the key to all of that and limitless other possibilities. He had refined his talent on those pathetic wretches and, after a few of the rituals that his true master had shown him, he had even judged himself to be powerful enough to take on the fool by himself.

So he had become lax in hiding his rituals. He no longer sealed the areas off, no longer followed his true master's instructions in hiding the aura of the pure magic from the judgmental fool's senses. All of that proved to be the worst mistake he ever made.

Although he had become more powerful than the fool could have known, the fool still easily outmatched him. Had it not been for his true master's lessons in shields, he would have burned to death in the inferno that the fool created.

Even when the fool had been weakened he had still handily fought him off. Apparently the fool hadn't shown him the full extent of his power. It was only through cunning use of poison and fire that he had managed to escape the fool's wrath.

And that was how he died for the first time. It took an entire of month of carefully conserving his energy and leaving the smallest hints for the fool. He had expected to kill his former master in an ambush, and even hired some of those strange rogues that he'd seen in Athens in order to have an advantage.

Unfortunately, his former master proved to be more dangerous than even he'd anticipated. The fool had attacked with a horrific fury that quickly killed the rogues before turning upon him. He had never expected to have to fight the fool in a fair battle, and his former master had allowed him to burn to death with some accursed blue flame.

His great life might have ended right there. In fact, it did for a moment. For just a single second, he knew oblivion. Not even his powerful magic had saved him from his former master's fury, and it was only due to the intervention of his true master – he didn't know where the strange presence had gone during the long month he had spent fleeing Harry – that he survived.

In some great influx of magic – magic inherently different to what he had been taught or what he could even understand – he had been reinvigorated and shocked back into life, although he suffered terrible pain after he had driven the fool away. Although he had searched for his true master again, the presence had faded away and left him all alone in the world.

But he had risen far beyond what any of his former masters could anticipate and would soon gain power beyond what they could dream of. He had studied the old legends that had survived the collapse of the last empire that had dominated the region and had searched vast swathes of land in order to find the places where magic was strong.

The legends spoke of unnatural creatures that knew everything. They were said to be beyond human understanding and capable of feats no man could hope to match. Perhaps he was foolish to have spent so much time searching for legends and folk tales, but he was desperate. The fool still hunted for him and he lacked the knowledge and power to face him.

Still, his struggles had paid off. Even now he ventured into the dark cave where power that he couldn't quite comprehend tugged at the magic in his veins. Strange whispers whose meaning eluded him sunk into his mind and intensified the darkness that surrounded him.

He continued on, heedless of the strange happenings. This was the culmination of his search and his sleeping target would elude him no more. Soon he would be free to do anything he wished.

For what seemed like hours the wizard fearlessly walked into the darkness, even as the whispers grew more frequent and the sense of wrongness sunk into every bit of his body.

Eventually he reached a cavern. No light illuminated its secrets, and any flames or light that he attempted to conjure were unable to form, snuffed out before it even formed. The wizard smiled in excitement and suddenly shouted out into the darkness. It was a single word, but it brought power with its utterance.

"Erebus!"

That was the name he had uncovered from dank crypts and forgotten monuments. He knew not its true meaning, but even thinking it caused the shadows around him to creep towards him and slowly intensify.

But here, in this void of light, the whispers intensified and the blackness seemed to seep into his very soul.

The all encompassing darkness seemed to wink out any last trace of light from existence as the entity began to awake from its long slumber. He looked out into the darkness with blind eyes as the blackness shifted in a way that not even he could put words to.

Something awoke. The whispers turned into wails and shouts and tore his mind apart as they ran through and searched every length and crevice of his mind and soul.

He screamed. Not even those accursed blue flames the fool had seared him with could match the defilement his mind was put through.

Slowly, however, the screams and whispers and shouts and voices brought understanding. They failed to be indecipherable wails and noises, instead beginning to translate into a voiceless chorus of thought and magic made manifest.

Why are you here? The chorus screamed and wailed.

He laughed madly. "I am here because you are what I seek. You are Erebus, Darkness, Shadow made Flesh. You will give me the power I deserve."

Silence came from the darkness. Even the whispers vanished as the awakening entity stared into the soul of the wizard.

You are weak. The voices said in scorn. You seek to use my power to rule. You seek to dominate with the lone drop of power that flows through your veins. You equate Darkness with abuse, corruption, and evil. I am Darkness. I am not Evil.

"You are Darkness! I am of the Darkness!" He cried into the black. As the voices whispered and screamed into his mind he could see the faint outlines of something in the darkness. "You will give me the power I deserve!" He demanded.

You seek power. The voices said, twisting and shifting into a single voice of indescribable power and perfection. Your foe is too great and you are too weak. Time's child abandoned you and you are helpless against those that seek your blood.

"Yes!" He wailed in glee. "I am weak! I am helpless! You bestowed wonders upon savages and mere mortals! Will you not bestow it upon a god amongst men?"

You fancy yourself a god? The chorus screeched in amusement. You are a mere babe in the shadows of your betters. You will receive power but you will not enjoy it. You will receive knowledge but you will revile it.

He laughed in gleeful perfection as he realized the Darkness would answer his pleas. The chorus would gift him with what he sought most!

The screaming of the resplendent chorus was silenced. It was soon replaced by something else, something Dark beyond belief. The Darkness was incomprehensible to his mind, flooding it with thoughts he couldn't understand and images that defied logic.

His contact with the Darkness went on for eternity. Knowledge of ancient things and works of ungodly power flooded his mind and flitted away before he could understand. Words so alien that their concepts could not be grasped burned themselves into his mind and soul, despite his struggles to escape their influence.

He broke as it ended. The Darkness drew away, replaced by the beautiful chorus that sung sweet words of hatred into his mind. He grinned widely as he understood their true meaning, not the pathetically fragmented glimpses of thought he had received previously.

You are weak. The chorus hissed in delight. A moment's glimpse into the abyss has ruined you. Begone, worm, and leave me to my slumber.

The wizard groaned as the voices carved into his mind for the last time, uselessly wishing for them to return. He wanted the knowledge back; he wanted to feel that ungodly power coursing through his every thought and whim. It was still in his mind, but it was fleeting.

Every time he grasped for the knowledge and pattern the Darkness had imparted upon his ruined, shattered mind he found himself focusing instead upon inane, trivial things that had no place in the path to power he had just embarked upon.

He gasped for air as the Darkness seemed to intensify; shifting into a form whose outlines he couldn't see but knew was there. Herpo gave off a rattling gasp as the cold, stale air in the vast cavern grew heavy and began to weigh heavily upon his body. With great effort he pulled himself up to his feet, only now realizing that he had collapsed as the Darkness tore into his mind with its mental claws.

Even his fractured mind could understand that he needed to leave this place. Herpo brought all of his willpower to bear and began the trudge out of the bowels of Darkness and into the familiar realm of light. He focused not upon the slow suffocation and merciless pressure the Darkness was applying to him, but instead upon his dreams of power and control that would soon be realized.

The Darkness followed him. Its voice that combined its mind into a single, unbroken cord had dissolved into innumerable whispers and wails that traced Herpo's every step and surrounded his form. They were incapable of being understood by Herpo's warped mind. He could not understand these mere fragments, not when he had felt and heard the true voice of Darkness in his soul and bones.

Eventually the whispers tapered off and left him. Herpo could see light a few feet ahead and he stepped into it. The light blinded him and singed his skin, but its effects wore off after a while.

He was free, he realized. The Darkness had let him leave its domain. There was nothing that could hold him back. Not even the fool could stop him now.

In fact, he was more than free. He had ascended past the pitiful bonds that had held him back before he had found the Darkness and was gifted with its knowledge. The world was his for the taking.

Herpo laughed at the bright sun and the light it released upon the world. It would not be through its power that he would rule.

Now all he had to do was remember.