Tainted Soul

"What the fuck!?"

"Ah. Here we go again." He sighed in a gravelly tone. But even as the door slammed shut behind me. Even as I stared at him, sneering. Zorrenor Knagh retained the amiable persona of a professional poker player.

His eyes, a mix of reds and greens like autumn leaves, radiated a sense of warmness that out-competed his off-puttingly fiendish inhumanity. His skin, a greenish-brown like moss grown over bark, had been tanned from centuries upon centuries of exposure to the elements. Eventually forming the bark-like wrapping that was pulled taut in a pleasurable smile. On open one. One that showed the rows of fanged teeth and relatively short husks hiding in his mouth. Acting like mountains on a coastline, dispersing a mist that smelled of mildew and detritus into the valley of his office.

But his appearance was outside of my mind. Instead, I was focused on the objects wisping or floating above and around his horned head.

The largest one and the object of my initial outburst was an incorporeal mass of death and darkness shaped in the form of a slender, horned humanoid. Like a personal rain cloud, it floated above Zorrenor's body. Swaying with his movements as if to keep Zorrenor's crown positioned directly below its jagged jaws.

"Explain." I dropped my eyes down to him.

"Please." He gestured before his desk. "Sit-"

"No."

"Very well." He clasped his hands together and focused on me for a second. "I've summoned you to tell you that your armor has been approved for usage."

"Good to know." I blinked.

Waited.

Watched him give his eyes a deep rub. Let out a great sigh as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. And after another sigh, he dragged his nails down his cheeks as if to shred any traces of false amiability or benevolence from his persona. Revealing something burning in his eyes that I never expected to see.

Hope.

"I've had this conversation several times before, Amun," Zorrenor said.

"I bet you have." I flicked my eyes around his head a snort. To where a school of black wisps and streaks of energy chaotically whipped around and through his skull without end. "That's more curses than most people see in their lifetimes."

"Bestowed upon me by the Nox. As I'm sure you've surmised." He smiled softly. Paused and eventually leaned back to turn away with a nostalgic look. And muttered. "Cole was the first of your kind I met. He was a student in the Bodhi Tree's opening year. We had a meeting- much like this, but. He…" Zorrenor pulled on his collar to show a large scar that covered much of his shoulder and came to an end somewhere in the depths of his robes. "He assaulted me at first sight. Claiming the Shadow of Death haunts me. But he would not kill me. Claiming that my knowledge was invaluable.

"So, he cursed me. And from then on, I've had no choice but to welcome the Children of the Night to these roots. To learn. To grow. To curse me and leave. Every time." He lightly chuckled for a moment. Only for it to pitter out in a pitiful sigh. "I've now come to expect certain… events to transpire whenever the Nox returns to these roots. Including but not limited to a complete and utter disregard for authority. A forest filled with undead and shadow creatures. Peers, and in some cases teachers either fearing or revering the Nox. Prestige Classes that make the Polaris kingdoms convene to panic en masse. And much, much more.

"I presume you will do the same?" He looked at me with almost pleading eyes.

"Naturally." I turned my gaze to the entity overhead. "But." I dropped my eyes back to him. "I may be willing to make a deal instead."

"A deal, you say?" He scratched his chin and squinted as if to hide the smoldering embers of hope radiating from his eyes. "Very well. But, if I may ask. Why does your family insist on cursing and threatening me?"

"You already know the answer."

"Indulge me." He smiled. "Why am I not allowed to have eternal life?"

"There's no such thing as eternal life." I scoffed. 'Not even I'm Eternal, despite my proclaimed godliness.'

"Nothing lives forever, Zorrenor. Not Druids- no matter how powerful they may be, nor dragons or even the most powerful liches in existence. Even you- having lived for a thousand years, hardly has a clue as to what eternity entails.

"In other words, you're misunderstanding things." I pointed at him. "It's not that you aren't allowed to have eternal life. It's just that no such thing exists. You will die long before the sun dies, long before the Mortal Plane decays, and long before all matter in this universe fades into nothing. Eventually, the universe will return to the void from which it came. Time will become meaningless, and those who've been, as you say, blessed with eternal life will face nothing but misery in that cold, unchanging emptiness.

"But that's beside the point. Your time is up, Zorrenor." I jerked my finger at him again. "The Under calls for your soul. That's why the Shadow of Death haunts you. And we must heed its call. That's why Cole assaulted you. That's why I showed you such hostility. However, you were cursed because you allowed hubris to lead you down such a fruitless path. And still, you show little remorse. Contrarily, I get the feeling that you hope to be lifted of these curses and be free to enjoy your 'eternal life' like all the other greedy mortals who found a way to cheat death. But that'll never happen. At least not on this Plane."

"Cole told me much the same thing." He dryly laughed before I'd even finished. Then subtly sneered as he awaited my reply. So I gave him none to leech. I only stared and waited however long it took for him to continue digging his own grave.

"You're the spitting image of him, you know?" He eventually asked. "You're much smaller of course, but the likeness is uncanny. More so, you are just as powerful as him, if not more. And oh, was Cole of the Nox powerful. Your sorcery is the same. And he gave me much the same monologue as well. But… you seem different. And it's not because of your ties to the Fey."

"Yeah, I'm a Devil unlike any other. Now, is there anything else, headmaster?"

"Yes." He slowly lowered his head to resume his former personal. "While your Abyssal Armor is approved for usage in duels, your Key is not. That is all."

"I don't anticipate having to use it here." I turned to the door with a scoff. Then stopped after grabbing the handle to turn about and look him deep in the eyes. "I hope it was worth it. Whatever you did to gain this stolen time. Because the Raven Reaper will ensure she keeps her promise."

I left without waiting for his reply. Calmly. But once his door was closed and I was a fair way down the hall, I began storming towards the Bodhi Tree's roots.

I knew it was only due to my… extensive education, but I felt an obligation to uphold the rules of death and the headmaster sullied them. He had to be killed, cursed, or dealt with. Those were the rules. And I had the perfect bargaining chips, but now wasn't the time to show them. I needed to perfect the deal, learn more from my ancestors, finish my studies in this place; and most importantly, raise some undead.

But above all, I had to deal with this pent-up aggression of mine. With that and the 15 years of self-repression I was trying to shake free from, I felt as if I could've blown at any moment. So I stormed into the gym and flew to the top floor with nary a gaze to the crowd.

Not to fight it out with my Doppelganger, but to sit cross-legged in the sand, open Sic Script, and focus.

I concentrated on drawing a thin stream of my arcana away from the pull of my affinity cores and guided it around my body. Forming a loop that was much the same as my electrical circuit, but altered to mirror the Gates and Paths detailed in the digital humanoid floating before me.

And for hours on, I meditated. Fought to subdue the anger boiling my blood away. Concentrated on maintaining the Gates and Paths looping through my spiritual body. And thought about what I'd demand in exchange for my tomes.

Other than his soul of course.