Chapter 94 : Nethermost

  Premorn of Quartus, Third Day of Duskmoon

  Far beneath Angkor, something burrowed deep into the Substratum, beyond what the original builders intended. Many cautioned against it, saying it wasn’t safe. They claimed the structure wouldn’t hold, and mineral deposits outside the current boundaries would be unstable.

  But they knew nothing. They didn’t have the power of a sunstone.

  King Richard held the Pisces Stone at arm’s reach, clutched inside his soft, bulbous flesh. It throbbed, sending jolts of ecstasy down his arm and throughout his body. Such power came at a heavy cost; a toll on the mind and body, greater than most men could bear. Of course, Richard was more than most men. His spirit had the strength to endure, even as his body changed under the demon’s influence. He would pay any price, as long as the Ahriman’s power was his.

  At first, it pained him to see his once-handsome face disfigured. To watch, as his hair fell out by the handful. And witness, as his flesh turned soft and runny. Under this transformation, human features disappeared. Fingernails, teeth, nose, and ears wasted away to nothing. Even his eyes melted away like tears. Although, he saw just fine from the empty sockets in his head, thanks to the sunstone’s power.

  Long ago, as a child, he had witnessed something similar. He was always a curious boy, willing to tinker and learn. One day, he found a chrysalis. He knew that caterpillars transformed into beautiful butterflies, but he didn’t know how. He wanted to understand it, so he cut one open, hoping to find partially developed wings or antennae. But instead, all he saw was a brown ooze.

  He thought, perhaps, his instruments were too blunt. That he had squished the delicate body before he had a chance to see it clearly. So he searched until he found the finest surgical tools, which he used to carefully peel back the chrysalis’ outer layer. He was disappointed to find that no matter how meticulously he carved, no matter how many chrysalises he cut into, the only thing inside was the same brown matter.

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  Apparently, for the caterpillar to transform, it had to dissolve itself completely, until none of its original body remained. Only then could it rebuild itself into something beautiful. He figured, perhaps, the same was true for himself. If he were somehow to finish the process with the transformative power of a moonstone, he would emerge from his vulnerable husk with the body of a god. The only problem was where to find one.

  He knew the moonstones were well hidden. Unlike their sunstone counterparts, knowledge of their existence had been seemingly erased from historical record. There were no old tomes that told of their locations. Nor old tales that hinted where to look. For weeks, he had known of the moonstones’ existence. He even sent his most loyal Knights to every corner of the world. Yet, they returned emptyhanded. So he had them destroyed and continued the search, himself.

  Certainly, blasting his way through solid rock would take time to yield results, but nothing was more important. Sooner or later, he was sure to stumble upon one of them. He didn’t care how long it would take, or what else he would need to give up. He would have easily given his first born son, had he an heir to trade. Or anyone else, for that matter. But he had already cast aside every man and woman he had ever known. All those close to him were dead. Family … friends … allies … nothing more than mortal baggage. He had no more use for them.

  Besides, human lives were too short. Lifetimes passed in an instant. But the Ahrimen … they were eternal. Born from the earliest moments of the Universe, they were ancient beings, who would live on, long after mankind expired. As would he.

  Nothing else mattered, and nothing would stand in his way. Including a certain, former Gnostic Knight, who plotted against him. Somehow, he sensed Abraham Morrison’s approach. Once a trusted friend, the man had become a shameful, covetous fiend who dared to stand in the way of his ascension.

  He laughed, though it came out as a groan.

  He would never let Abraham take his precious sunstone. The power was his alone. He paused his tunneling so he could face and strike down his usurper. Let him come.

  Let him come ….