Interlude IV Corruption

Interlude IV

Corruption

Ghane made his way through the ever-winding paths of the forest. His first few days in the forest on his own were a real eye opener for him. As soon as he left, he immediately felt the fact that the great forest spirit, the spirit that had guided his people for generations had abandoned him.

Ghane never had the true connection to the great forest spirit, at least not the same connection that the priestesses had. So, he had no way of knowing whether the great forest spirit had truly turned a blind eye to him. The only thing he had to go on were the actions of the outside world.

When he killed food and prayed over it, nothing happened. The carcasses just stayed right where he had slain them. While Ghane didn’t know it at the time, this was actually the great forest spirit showing benevolence. For all of Ghane’s life there had been a relationship where Ghane would kill food. Then the great forest spirit would take the food, gut it, clean it, de-skin it and return it back to everyone for a meal. What Ghane didn’t realize was the great forest spirit could only provide meals within its own dining halls. The very halls that Ghane had set out from never to return to. So, in fact the great forest spirit had not abandoned Ghane, but merely wished for him to be able to eat. This was the reason the great forest spirit did nothing to the offered hunt.

Yet Ghane assumed his own thoughts. With no one else around to tell him their thoughts, his own thoughts went to the fact that for the first time in his life he truly felt alone. He thought he could do it, Lykan had easily come to their house alone, then left alone without any reservation. Only now that he was doing the same on his own did he realize how monumental of a task this truly was.

Still Ghane knew he needed to get stronger. While he had a general weapons skill, he knew it was barely passable. The skills of the true warriors and even Lykan far exceeded his own prowess. He stared at the mythril spear in his hands and realized that the only reason he had managed to take down most of the monsters that were hunting him was due to this spear. The spear he had all but stolen from the fool Lykan.

However there was a faint feeling of regret. One where he half expected to walk across Lykan’s dead body. A body torn apart by these very same monsters due to the brat only having a seed fragment for a weapon. In a way, he wanted to stumble across the boy’s carcass all so he could have both the spear and his ancestral sword seed. While the sword had never done anything for him, it would still be nice to have it back.

Renewed by his new goal, to search the woods for the boy’s corpse Ghane made ever increasing paths. Just when he was sure he was completely lost, he heard a voice.

“Power.”

The voice first only appeared in his dreams, beaconing him like a siren’s call. The words were spoken by Octavia, or at least in a voice that sounded like her voice. A voice that had been his, until that brat came. Still his dreams grew more and more demanding that he come. So he set off in the direction the voices called from.

Soon he could hear the voice of his beloved Octavia calling him even in the daytime.

“Come to me.”

“Save me.”

“Be one with me.”

The words cried out in his mind, until he was sprinting towards the voice. His muscles ached from constantly moving. He had given up on eating a drinking to get to his beloved faster. She needed him.

In his mind he dreamed that she finally came to her senses, that she had come out looking for him and had gotten lost. Now she called out to him, desperately and he needed to get to her. To save her.

To say he was delirious would be an understatement. He was beyond rational thought.

His mind and body broken from being alone and being unable to swallow his pride enough to ask to go back home. He moved on, each step forcing him to move further.

Then finally he found her.

“You came?”

The voice called. It was Octavia’s voice, but it was coming from a dark obsidian pillar.

Part of his mind warned of danger. But he refused to listen to that part, if the pillar was dangerous then it meant that Octavia too was in danger. Just as she had been calling out for.

Perhaps sensing the hesitation in Ghane’s mind the voice called out again.

“Free me from the pillar.”

“How?” Ghane asked as he put his bare hand against the pillar trying to see if there were any indentations.

The minute Ghane’s hand touched the pillar a jolt of electricity pulsed through his body. He was powerless to move, as a torrent of dark energy poured from the obsidian pillar into Ghane. From Ghane it flowed into the ground, and down his spear.

While Ghane didn’t know it at the time, the fact that he had swindled the spear from Lykan was the only reason he was still alive now. Normally the energy flowing through his body would be too much, forcing his body to be reduced to salt and ash. Thanks to the magical properties of the mythril spear, the spear was able to draw most of the excess energy away and let it quickly dissipate into the ground.

This caused the ground to swell with dark miasmic pools of energy. Pools that caused the ground to open up and begin swallowing everything around it, everything but Ghane.

Ghane for his part was truly unaware of what was happening to his body, as his mind had begun to shut down from the near constant pain it was in. In his mind he was holding Octavia, she was so thankful for him coming to rescue her that she stayed lovingly in his embrace. This was the mind of the true Ghane. A small spec of consciousness in the vast black void that was now his mind.

Finally, after three straight days of dark energy pulsing through his body Ghane moved. Well not the real Ghane, the real Ghane was but a speck on the wind. But the dark creature that now controlled Ghane’s body moved.

A malevolent smile filled his face as he took in his new surroundings.

“I am early?” He said looking first to the stone.

There was a slight burning in his hand. He turned to see that he was holding a mythril spear.

“Mythril.” Ghane spat as he dropped the cursed item.

As it fell the pool of miasma that covered the floor spread away from it. The same way dirt would be repulsed by soap when thrown into a bucket of water.

Ghane, or the being moving in Ghane’s body, looked at his hand that was now covered in a brand. His fingers were deformed from where they held the cursed item. Since his body had been formed with the deformation, he would forever be forced to bear the deformity, at least until he could truly evolve.

“Yes, once we have summoned forth the generals. They will be able to heal my hand. Until then, I just need to follow the plan. While I might have a deformity, I am early. Probably only a few months in. I can work with this.” Evil Ghane muttered to himself as his diabolical mind began plotting ways to improve. Ways to conquer parts of this world for himself, before his fellow demons came forward.

“Come to me.” Ghane said, holding out his hand and willing the dark pools of miasma to pull up from the ground and coat him in layers of clothing. Within seconds of reading what remained of the host’s mind he had on clothing. Then he also created a black spear that looked nearly identical to the mythril spear that lay on the ground. The only difference being this one was formed entirely from densely packed miasma.

A wicked smile formed on Evil Ghane’s face as he spoke his next words out loud. “Now to begin.”