The light slowly faded, a last death rattle as life left and the corpse slowly touched the ground again.
And perfection was born anew, the last gasp releasing another pure and perfect soul into the world for a single blissful moment. The warmth of the sun flowed through his broken form and he almost felt whole again, the soul before him breaking down as the Exaltation tore itself free of its bindings even as he reached out to grasp it.
The memory of his own perfection slipping through his fingers once more as it was not to be. As he remained Eye and Seven Despairs and wallowed in his imperfect existence caught between life and the true death he'd evaded all these years.
Still even if the final prize eluded him there was still work to be done, Hun and Po souls tethered in place by their despair he'd inflicted on them they stood worthy where no other souls would suffice. Denied both reincarnation and the mercy of wandering to fall into his clutches as they were dragged into a marvel of his own making.
The corpse came next as a wonder in its own right. Perfect beyond reckoning as all exalts were in the moment of their creation, free of blemishes in the way only something that had channelled the divine flame could be.
The streets faded away around him and with a single step he pulled them all into his manse.
The heart came first as the source of life in the body, perfect and intrinsically powerful but also paradoxically simple for all hearts stood the same as givers of life beating within. It joined six others beating in tandem, each one touched by the same glimmer of perfection and changed by it, yet each different ever so slightly as their hosts had been.
The brain would come last as everything of value was unique and would have to be treated carefully lest he ruin the whole thing. Artistry itself in the moments spent plucking the best dreams and the worst nightmares contained within to craft meaning amidst his forge.
The man had short hair, a pity really for it lacked the volume to truly be useful. Still a quick cut sheared it off and an idle twist bound it together like rope. No matter how little he gathered from each it would one day make the perfect fishing line for trawling the Well of Udr in the future.
The eyes plucked forth and staring back at him for a moment, hazel eyes as perfect as only an exalted could be. But he preferred blue honestly like his own had been so they were unworthy of being part of his manse. Still there were always other applications he could find for them he supposed.
Ah, he felt his manse move as the halls welcomed a new arrival and with but a gesture the doorway opened and dragged his erstwhile prodigy inside. "You've' returned just in time does it delight you as much to see his corpse as well?"
"Yes." He looked deeper into his sons eyes, caught between truth and lie as the child experienced both his own delight and the revulsion of someone who didn't yet truly understand it. For they were bound together by the memories they shared.
The third piece of his soul grafted to another wishing they could be one again.
Like his father had once before he patted the child gently on the shoulder bringing him close. Perhaps the last time they'd shared a moment of happiness while learning his craft and turned back towards his experiments. "You've done well."
The child leaned in just as he had all those years ago as he reaffirmed it. Memories drawing themselves up as they corroded the rest of the ego that tarnished it.
"Well we have yet another corpse to work with, only just starting out on the path of essence but still a miracle in its own right." He eyed his materials once more. "I'm thinking a Daiklave, driven by the instinctive desire for battle held by the Po soul of a Dawn." With calm practice he pulled the leg free even as muscle was torn away to expose the femur for the blade. "We even have such a wonderful sympathetic connection considering we're binding it to his own corpse."
The spine for the pole itself of course, and sinew binding it down the length as he tore the corpse further, even as the blood pouring free fell into grooves cut into the table to be collected later. It would be a pity if he wasted such a precious fluid.
He hummed in thought for a moment, before leading the boy on. "Is it by accrued thought and will that allows one to acquire an exaltation, or by the instinctive reactions that pull us on that would always guide them at the moment of triumph. The question plagued many of us before the usurpation I will admit." With a gesture he pulled both up to rest beside him. Eyeing them casually even as the boy gazed in awe.
The boy stumbled on his words, eyes darting between the corpse and the floor. But he was patient enough to forgive the failures of family and waited. Until finally the boy met his eyes again with firm conviction he felt had to have come from him. "The Hun soul is most important, which is why they were able to become the Deathlords while they're Po souls faded away into obscurity."
He preened at the praise even if it was flawed. "In truth it does not matter, for once illuminated by the third soul they change. It sharpened and perfected us in every way and so as long as you can preserve them from the Lethe's clutches, they remain magnificent." The Po soul screamed in his hand as he pulled at it, it's essence stretched and twisted in this place.
The boy almost recoiled, eyebrows furrowing as will carved itself into place and the tiniest glint of his anima peeked through. So he took a page from his fathers book and patted him on the head. Tugging at the memory sequestered in the child's head. "That you have so much left to learn is not your weakness, but merely proof of all the experience I have gained over my lifetime, don't fret yourself over such a small thing."
He sketched out the full frame of his construction, the manse bending to his will as it pulled more materials from elsewhere. The countless smaller souls of those dregs who had never ascended to slave away beneath the madness, the dying scream of one of his tormentors so long ago to give it purpose.
A glimpse of the Well itself from his balcony, to drive it into incoherent madness and curse any who tried to save the damned souls trapped within. Until all it lacked was a wielder, he considered the boy before him. "Would you like it as your own weapon? Or perhaps you have found a willing buyer who might be in need of it?"
His son nodded firmly in the way he had done once at his fathers forge. Courage mustering amidst his fear as he sought the words. "One of Mask of Winters subordinates has need of a good weapon, and their campaign has been going well so I should be able to extract a good price for you."
He smiled down at the boy, proud of him. Ah but before you go I have the best kind of gift for you my son, to aid you in passing around unseen." The boy twitched but followed him on. "Surely you remember Ithacus from my memories of course, truly and exemplary member of the Night Caste when it came down to things. And so I've made a cloak from the skin of his successor and managed to bind some of the exaltations power to it as a sympathetic effect."
Revulsion flowed across his students face, just like him the first time he'd worn the flesh of a human.
He let the nostalgia flow in and smiled.
A/N: Well there are no stats which is a good excuse to post something in a segment where I get less views. Go out little practice piece and die upon the sands.
