Karon breathed in the night air deeply, tasting the traces of life traveling the winds. He opened his eyes and watched the stars twinkling above him; only, they weren't twinkling distantly anymore, instead they burned with an almost painful intensity. He felt their light, so powerful as to stretch out over an almost incomprehensible distance, only to reach him as he stood basking in that power, the warm rays soaking every inch of his skin.

He knew that if he wanted to, he could reach out through that light, all the way back to its source, and feed on it. He could also sense, through the echoes in that light, that it would burn him into nothingness to try, that the power would be too great for him to absorb. For the moment. Perhaps, in time, he would grow strong enough to eat a star.

Who knew that damnation came with such a fuzzy feeling in the stomach?

More than just the starlight, all things around him shone vibrant with the energy it carried within itself. Karon understood that he had always been sensitive to that emission, that subtle vibration trickling out like the pulses of a beating heart. But now, now he could almost taste the echoes of the blood it pumped. He bathed in the life, the bloodstream of the universe and all things around him, and the only thing he needed to do was reach out and drink from it.

Of course, it was made simpler by the fact of where he was standing. Where before the forest had been a collection of tormented trees, strung up magically and made to exist in a twilight between life and death so Maeror and his spawn could feed on their roots indefinitely, now those tortured wails sounded like the buzzing of gnats next to a flood. The absolute immenseness of the universe the roots had grown throughout, touching on places Karon could not even fathom, was more than he could process properly. So he was left standing where he was, basking in awe with his newly-acquired awareness.

Time was irrelevant, there was no sun to intrude upon the shroud of night, and no cycles in the environment to pay any heed to. It was a frozen, everlasting orgy, a feast of the souls of creation, and Karon gorged on it with a look of bliss upon his face.

“So we didn't just turn into a soul eater, but also a crappy poet?”

Karon turned his attention inwards, and found a working of energies that could rival part of the universe in its complexity. But for all that, there was nothing alien that didn't belong to be found, as far as he could tell.

“How many times do I have to repeat this? I am not some invading spirit, I am YOU.”

“Then you are a very annoying part of me. Leave me to my pleasures.”

“I know you’re kinda high on... well, everything, but at least try and get off your high horse before you hurt yourself.”

“Leave me. I want to enjoy this.”

“Whatever, just know that this little honeymoon of yours won't last. There's a balance to everything, and a price for everything to keep that balance. And baby, did you ever just rock this boat.”

The presence of the voice faded, leaving only the sensation of drowning in life's energies. Karon had just barely begun to feel as if though there was a pattern in the flow, like the steady rhythm of a truly beating heart, when he felt a presence appear out of nothingness just a few feet behind him.

“Timor,” Karon said out loud, an undertone of disgust clear in his voice.

“You will show respect when speaking to me, trickster,” Timor hissed. “Or have you forgotten how many times I chased you down in these woods and had you at my mercy?”

“And somehow I am still here,” Karon replied with a smirk.

“Because I allowed you to live!”

“Because you're a coward, and too afraid of Dolor to disobey no matter how much you hate me. I could attack you right here and now, and you still wouldn't kill me, since she would punish you for it. However, should I kill you...”

Karon didn't finish the sentence, and Timor's enraged hiss was all that was needed to voice the truth they both knew. Of the two of them, there was only one Dolor actually cared about.

“There can be only one!”

The sound of Timor's hissing increased, until Karon finally turned around and faced the soul-eater, still smirking.

“Empty sounds,” he said simply, then walked past the furious creature without sparing him a second glance.

After taking a few steps Karon felt Timor's presence disappear once more, melting into the forest's energies effortlessly. He continued to walk on, certain that there would be no unexpected attack, no spear sinking itself into him without warning.

If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Timor was a coward, and would never go against Dolor's wishes, despite that she had cut her ties with him.

It was sad, almost, to see a creature clinging to hope the way Timor did. Somewhere deep down, he thought that she might take him back, if only he proved himself, or was patient, or whatever his delusional mind whispered when despair crept up on him.

“Yes, it is sad seeing someone make himself into a slave without realizing it.”

Karon snorted. “I know what you are trying to imply, and it isn't even remotely close to the truth.”

“You are wrong if you think we are so different from Timor.”

“I am all the things he could not be.”

“All that which you think you have while he does not doesn't really matter, though, if it all goes away with the simple changing of Dolor's whims. You are what he is now; tied up in her strings willingly.”

“His service to her comes from desperation; mine comes from love.”

“Is it truly your love, then, or merely something carefully planted there by Dolor?”

“My love, obviously. I am feeling it.”

“Are you? How can it be that you truly love her, if that does not stem from who and what you are?”

“And who exactly am I if not this person speaking to you, telling you that I truly and honestly love my mistress?”

“I can tell you what you're not.”

“I'm waiting with bated breath.”

“A pet.”

Karon scowled, then clenched his teeth and ignored the voice. It soon disappeared once more, leaving only a faint sensation of smugness, which made Karon clench his teeth all the harder.

He thought of his mistress, and felt how his mood instantly lightened. A faint smile came to his face as he remembered the feeling of her smooth skin underneath his fingertips, and her dry and cracked lips upon his. There was a ferocity to her, as they laid with one another, that he couldn't quite place, since it was so overwhelming and very unlike the image he had of his mistress. But he had enjoyed it all the more for it.

He had woken up just a few hours ago, right next to her in the room they now shared. The black satin sheets reflecting the faint light from the golden crystals embedded in the ceiling, highlighting the curves of her body, and the steady rise and fall of her chest with every breath. He could have spent an eternity simply watching her.

Why hadn't he?

Karon stopped, a look of confusion on his face. He couldn't remember why he had left her side and gone out into the forest. He tried to retrace the steps his mind had made, to find whatever thought had spurred him to venture into the forest, but he couldn't.

He had enjoyed it immensely, to stand in that swirling concentration of energy from all the corners of the universe. It had filled him with a joy so sharp and crisp in its sensation he didn't know if there was even a word for it, but he knew as he thought back that it wasn't the promise of that sensation that had brought him outside.

He shook his head a few times and took a deep breath, steadying himself and focusing his mind. For all the blissful sensations that had come with his new state as a soul-eater, there had been a lot of confusion in the beginning, as he was forced to suddenly deal with having more than just one form of life inside of him.

He hadn't just eaten a bit of the ‘Derk'ahjin’, as the creature he had devoured was called. It was no echo, no vague imprint he had absorbed, but all it had been, and in a way, it still existed within Karon. Just as Karon.

More than once Karon caught himself thinking in the language, and the mindset of Silch of the Derk'ahjin. Karon was no longer just Karon, he was a merged being, and separating his own experiences from those of Silch had been difficult. The memories from both individuals were just as strong, just as valid in their own rights.

It made for a hell of a question of identity, Karon mused, as he started walking towards the manor again. And it was made all the more complex since much of Karon's earlier life was a mystery to him, taking the shape of muddy aches from old wounds and barely-perceivable impulses, based in a reasoning left from events he couldn't even recall.

Perhaps it was best to simply abandon all attempts at consolidating a distinction, between who he had been, and who he now was. Between Karon and Silch, and all the other creatures he would eventually devour over the course of his life. After all, he was a soul-eater now, and it wasn't a far stretch of the imagination to think that the rules were different for his kind.

He scratched his chin thoughtfully, and felt the energy of his surroundings shift as he approached the eye of the storm of souls that was the manor, as all the energy circled around it like a drain, only to flow in and be devoured.

In the end, such questions could only be answered through many, many years of living as one. Or, more practically, to simply ask Dolor. Despite that she had announced that Karon's training was over, he knew she still had much to teach him, especially now.

Karon's mouth twitched downwards as he realized that the voice had been right; the honeymoon period wouldn't last. Karon had questions that needed answering, and the blind happiness he was bathing in would have to be put aside a little to allow for them.

The thick forest fell away as he stepped out into the clearing surrounding the manor, golden light shining in through the windows with a softly beckoning call, promising warmth  and comfort.

“Like the flame to catch moths, or something a little more substantial,” Karon thought with a wry smirk.

“I bet that somewhere, somehow, there is at least one person that thinks we're not a complete asshole. And that person is probably retarded.”

As soon as Karon got within a few steps range from the door, it opened and one of the silver-masked servants stood holding it in silence.

Dolor had told Karon that there were four of them in total, and that they had been what was left after being almost completely drained of their souls. Only the most rudimentary functions still remained, but in essence, they were dead inside, and only useful as puppet slaves.

Karon ignored the servant and went down the right hallway, making his way forward until he reached his and Dolor's room on the second floor. He went inside, but found the bed where he had left Dolor empty. He sighed and reached out with his senses, quickly enough finding Dolor's presence down in the main room, together with Maeror.

For a second, Karon considered the fact that Dolor didn't seem to be aware of him reaching out for her, and once again it became more and more obvious that being a soul-eater didn't mean becoming just like every other soul-eater there was. He was far more sensitive to the energies around him than either Dolor or Timor had ever showed themselves being. Although, it was impossible to guess at the extent of Maeror's abilities.

Karon shuddered at the thought of the man; or rather, creature. He focused on the presence next to his mistress, feeling the power burning so intense that he instinctively drew away his mind to keep it from being damaged. Whatever Maeror had once been, he was now more akin to a force of nature than anything else. Merciless, unfeeling and beyond caring about anything else but his hunger.

Karon turned his head to the left, and his eyes fell upon Promise leaning against the wall in the far corner. He hadn't communicated with the spirit inside the spear since the transition, since he became a soul-eater. It was hard to explain, but deep down it felt like he had somehow failed the spear, or maybe something else, and letting the spear see what he had done and hearing its judgment would unleash a gate that he wouldn't be able to close.

He snorted at the thought; he shouldn't have to fear anything, not anymore, not with what he'd become and the support of his mistress. He forced himself to walk over to the spear and yanked it off the wall.

The spirit inside reached out to him instantly, then shied away momentarily in confusion when it actually felt him.

“Master... is that you?” it asked, the voice trembling.

“Yes. Is something wrong?” Karon asked back with as much nonchalance he could muster.

“What has she done with you...?”

“Given me a gift,” Karon answered with a hint of anger.

“Master, you don't understand... I can feel you, the very heart of you... it's wounded. It screams in pain.”

“I feel better than ever before, Promise. You're mistaken.”

“It's because you have stolen life, master; I can feel it pulsating inside your heart. It is a part of you now, but it won't last. It hasn't healed you; it only hides the pain.”

“Is that reproach I hear? I thought you were supposed to be my loyal servant.”

The spirit inside the spear flickered with uncertainty, the energy blossoming in its aura and spreading, until it looked like emotional fireworks were going off inside of it. The spirit was barely holding itself together.

“I serve you, master, and I always will. But there is much you don't understand because you don't remember. You have forgotten who you are.”

“I know who I am. I am Karon the soul-eater, lover and companion of the great soul-eater Dolor.”

“There is much more inside your heart than just wounds, master.”

“You are the second one to question that I know who I am today, and I am getting tired of it.”

“Who else has questioned you, master?” the spirit asked with surprise, then he felt her mind prod him deeper, until it found something deep down, outside of his consciousness, answering it.

Karon noted with surprise that something similar to a shiver rippled through the spirit's mind, then for just a few seconds, it felt like a dialogue happened inside of Karon's mind, but outside of his ability to comprehend. It occurred with the speed of thought, and after it was done Karon was left with the suspicion that 'the voice' and Promise had been in communication below his own ability to grasp.

“What just happened, Promise?”

“Nothing important, master; I was just worried, and wanted to make sure that everything was alright with you.”

“And is it?” Karon asked without hiding the suspicion he felt.

“Not yet, master, but soon.”

“Answer me truthfully, Promise. I order you to tell me what you just did.”

“I am telling the truth, I serve master and would never do anything to threaten or undermine you. I will always look after your interests, no matter what.”

“Even if you think I am not actually serving my own interests because you think I don't know who I am?” Karon asked, not buying her answer, and he got the sense that if Promise had had a body it would have been smiling in response.

“Of course, master; I am ever loyal to you, and would not allow myself to betray you out of trickery or deceit.”

“Even if you thought that was self-deceit?”

“Yes, master, I would.”

For a moment, a short moment, the hunger inside of Karon rose in response to his increasing anger. It built alongside it with a yawning greedy desire, asking to devour the impertinent spirit and be done with it once and for all.

With some difficulty, Karon managed to suppress the desire, and was left sweating with exertion.

His face showed shock at just how hard that had been, how strong and almost overpowering the hunger had grown. It had been a thing of instinct, and it left a worrisome thought in its wake: what if he couldn't control it?

“Master?” Promise asked with worry in its voice. It didn't know what had nearly just happened, but it had felt that something had been going on with him.

“I'm alright, Promise, just... stop trying to look after what you think is my real interests. How many times have you told me you have no will but mine? Aren't you supposed to exist only as an extension of my desires, and with no will and identity of your own?"

“Everything changes, master, and it seems we all have a destiny that carries us, even if we don't want one,” the spirit replied sadly, but didn't elaborate.

Karon sighed, then went over to the bed and sat down on the edge while laying the spear across his knees.

“Then tell me, Promise, since you claim to know so much about me: who am I?”

“I can't tell you, master; but being wounded doesn't make you a wound.”

“Wise words that, in the end don’t mean anything,” Karon scoffed, then got up from the bed and leaned the spear back against the wall in the corner.

“I am your servant, master, not a teacher. I am sorry I can't be of more use for you,” the spirit managed to transfer before Karon cut the connection, and went out the door, slamming it shut behind him a little harder than was necessary.

He pondered what had just happened as he proceeded on the path down to the grand room where Dolor was. It seemed that there had been some short communication between that ever-annoying voice, and Promise. And they both had questioned his ability to understand who he was.

It seemed a stupid thing to question now that he wasn't bothered with their incessant intrusions into his mind. He knew who he was, he felt what he felt and thought what he thought; why the need to question it?

The answer was obvious: they thought they knew something he didn't. Always with the subtle, and not so subtle, hints of knowing who he really was, of possessing knowledge of a past that was denying his attempts at recollection.

There were those small flashes, but they were muddy, and for all Karon knew his imagination might be substituting for the missing pieces.

The real question, Karon realized as he was heading down the staircase, wasn’t if he knew who he was, but if the past really mattered in the end?

“No,” Karon answered himself out loud. “It doesn't.”

He continued his way forward down the hallways, flanked on both sides by the many paintings of Dolor's failures, and their last moments of complete agony.

He was where he was supposed to be, where he wanted to be, with the one he loved. The past didn't matter; that was another Karon from another time. He was something new now, reborn through Dolor's teachings. A better self.

He passed by the entrance and eventually reached the end of the hallway, turning right and coming out into the grand room with the great bookcases, filled with tomes that Maeror always seemed to be reading in his lone corner. Except now, as Karon walked in he saw Maeror himself standing up next to Dolor, who was sitting down in one of the sofas with one leg draped over the other.

She lifted her head and smiled a bright full smile when she saw Karon walk into the room, waving him over and patting on the seat next to her.

Karon went over and sat down to her left, careful to avoid looking Maeror in the eyes, afraid of just what he would be seeing with his newfound awareness.

"Hello, my sweet,” Dolor said as she looked Karon in the eyes, her own shining with barely-constrained eagerness. "Today, something very special is going to happen!"

“What will happen?” Karon asked, doing his best to ignore Maeror's presence.

Dolor squealed in delight, grabbing his face with both hands and pulling it against hers until their noses touched, filling Karon’s vision with red-streaked orange eyes brimming with excitement.

“You will gain your name!” she exclaimed, her voice almost hysterical with glee.

Karon blinked in confusion. “I thought I already had a name,” he said, not quite managing to hold back the sarcasm from his tone.

“Yes,” Dolor said and released the grip on his head, her mouth twisting for a moment in consternation. “It caused us some difficulty, since the name you hold is actually a true Name. But the conversion into our kind touches into the very center of our beings, and now that you've had enough time to form a sense of stability in your new existence, I think you are ready to know who you truly are, and be named.”

Karon's heart skipped a beat when he heard her say the words 'who you truly are', and immediately what both 'the voice' and Promise had said to him echoed in his mind. But he swallowed the fear and shook off the memories, drawing comfort from Dolor's presence, even though it was sullied a bit by Maeror standing right next to them.

“Well?” Dolor asked, cocking her head. “Are you ready?”

Karon twitched, but tried to hide it with a shrug of his shoulders. “I see no point in waiting,” he replied simply.

“Then stand, my sweet. This is the final step, and then you are remade.”

Karon obeyed and rose from his seat. Dolor did the same and went to stand right behind Maeror, looking at Karon expectantly with her hands clasped together.

Slowly, Maeror's pitch black eyes came into focus, like he had been lost in the sea of all the souls he carried within himself, and settled on Karon. There was no real way to describe the feeling that came over him as met the gaze from those two dark orbs, but it chilled Karon to the bone. There was something in them, besides all that raw power and endless hunger, that twisted his heart and made him want to curl up in a dark corner and cry.

The raggedy old man, the grayed hair clinging to his head in greasy stripes, opened his mouth and spoke, his voice carrying like an echo, as if originated from a great distance.

“I am Maeror, and as I was remade, and as I remade Dolor and she in turn Timor, you have been broken and finally wounded, and now stand as one of our family. It is my gift, and my existence you have been brought into through a child of mine. You will shed what you were, and embrace us, for we are one in our hunger, and the wounds we carry bind us together.”

Maeror’s voice deepened, and Karon could feel the vast senses of the soul-eater reach out and connect with something deep and fundamental, something that sat at the very core of existence. Karon realized, on some instinctual level, that what Maeror was doing was deeply forbidden, for he wasn't invited into it, and that somehow, somewhere, that had to be noticed by someone.

He was looking into what was simplified as destiny, the very reasoning of what had spawned Karon's existence, and saw how Karon's wounding had changed it.

“As it began from me, and I became Maeror, the sorrowful father, and I broke and remade Dolor, the tortured daughter, and she in turn remade Timor, the fearful hunter, so you too are now remade, and named: Mendax Karon Bellum, the vulture of war and deceit.”

There was something final in the words, and Karon knew that Maeror was actually not speaking them, but merely transferring the meaning. A ringing like a great bell struck inside Karon's mind, forcing him to his knees and driving out the air from his lungs as the power behind those three words, his Name, struck him to his core.

He recovered in time to hear Dolor's shrill voice cry out in protest. “That can't be right! Father, you must have made a mistake. How can he still be Karon? How can it be a part of him?!”

Karon looked up to see Dolor facing her father with anguish etched into every part of her features, while Maeror faced her with the same apathetic stare he always wore, through a small frown of worry creased his forehead.  

“I have made no mistake; he is who he is. If you do not like what he has become, then that is your failure, daughter, and he is your flawed creation.” Without another word he turned around and left her standing with her emotions, went to his usual seat in the corner, pulled up a tome and started reading.

Karon waited for his mistress to acknowledge him, and when she finally did, she fell down on her knees in front of him and cradled his head in her hands, forcing a kiss on his lips and then speaking softly while she wagged back and forth with his head pushed hard against her chest.

“It is alright, my sweet,” she said lovingly. “Everything will be fine.”

Karon didn't understand why she was so upset, but no matter the confusion, he couldn't help but sense that she was speaking in denial. A fact he did his best to ignore, and it soon became easy as Dolor started kissing him, guiding him up on his feet once more before pushing him down on the sofa and taking his clothes off with desperate, jerking motions, ignoring Maeror's presence scant meters away.

Karon didn't object, and soon lost himself in the feeling of her dry soft skin on his, until they both laid exhausted, holding each other with a pained need Karon didn't understand. A certain wooziness lingered from when the power of his naming had asserted itself, and coupled with the fatigue from Dolor's ferocious lovemaking, he found himself drifting off, until eventually sleep took him.

                          **************************************************

He was standing in a great forest, not unlike the one outside the mansion. Old gnarled trees were grown tall and strong, stretching out bent and twisted branches to cover the space above him like a roof, blotting out whatever sky hid above.

Even so, there was an unknown source of light originating from somewhere that made sure that there was a subtle illumination to everything. Which, unlike the forest outside the mansion, made the trees visible as dark brown, with gold and red leaves blanketing the forest ground as well as coloring the living roof above.

Karon looked around himself, and saw the same thing everywhere he looked. But the forest trees weren't scattered randomly like an ordinary forest, instead they stood in thickets until a path broke between them, like great hallways leading from where he stood.

“Well, well. Went full-on emo, did you, cutting yourself to see if you can still feel? Or did you just want attention?”

Karon spun around and was met by the sight of the same bare-chested, leather pants-wearing stranger that had once visited him before. He was smiling a crooked smile, suspended cross-legged in the air while chewing on an blood red apple, juice dribbling visibly down his chin.

“Loke,” Karon whispered.

The man's eyebrows rose. “You remember me?” he said archly.

“I... no, I—” Karon stuttered, shaking his head violently.

Loke snorted, which turned into a chuckle. His legs straightened and his feet settled down upon the ground as he walked towards Karon, taking a last bite out of the apple before it promptly disappeared into thin air.

“You seem to have a bit of an issue with confusion; how very sad. Let me make it even worse for you.”

Loke closed the last distance between them, and before Karon got a chance to react Loke reached out and slapped him hard enough to send him flying in the air. He landed heavily on the ground, and a fraction of a second later Loke's face blurred into view above him, looking down with a grin as he spoke.

“That was a gift from me, a thing of instinct passed down through the bond you and I share. You see, the sad daddy soul eater has a family line, and the blood of that line, the DNA of the spirit that it passes down tried to make you a part of it. However it couldn't, since you already belong to a line, a passing-down of things. This is one of those things. But it's not a thing that can be taught through words and teachings, only done through the instinct of what you are driven to do. So enjoy. Among all the other things, you are now a dreamwalker.”

The face disappeared in a blur of movement, and Karon sat up to see Loke standing down one of the forest passages, waving frantically while jumping up and down.

“Just remember, Mendax Karon Bellum, that truth stands the test of time while all else fades away. Just something to keep you afloat, as you start to really wonder what is and what isn't true. And do try and be careful with walking in dreams; we wouldn't want you to lose touch with reality and go insane, now would we?” he finished with a laugh, then turned around and ran down the passage.

“Wait!” Karon shouted and got up on his feet, setting off in pursuit.

It didn't take long running down the passage of trees before Karon realized that Loke was gone. One moment he had been running in front of him, and the next he was gone, leaving Karon alone in the forest.

“Damn,” he muttered, slowing down to a halt.

He turned and look back, then looked forwards again and furrowed his brow. “Where the hell am I, anyway?!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

The last thing he remembered was that he'd fallen asleep on the couch in the grand room, lying right next to Dolor. He turned around and looked back the way he had come from, and thought of Dolor, her musty scent, like that of decaying leaves, and her soft and dry skin pressed against him.

“Wherever I am, the key to getting back should be at the start,” he mumbled, and started walking back again, but he only managed to take one step before everything around him blurred, and he found himself standing in a grassy field.

It was shadowed in dark blue and grays, illuminated by three moons in the sky, showing the plains stretching out as far as the eye could see, only sporadically broken by small hills and small clusters of trees in the distance.

“Great, now I'm definitely lost,” Karon sighed, then his eyes caught a light in the distance to his right, coming from the window of what looked like a small cottage.

With no better destination in sight, he started on a path towards the picturesque dwelling, a soft summer breeze sending ripples across the fields, early morning dew reflecting moonlight like tiny pinpricks of crystal.

It was a soothing place he found himself in, and even though his head was scrambling to grasp at even one logical explanation of where he was, the ignorance didn't bother him very much at the moment. There was no immediate danger, and although Loke's sudden appearance, and just as sudden disappearance, had struck a warning bell, there was nothing at the moment to threaten him.

Loke. He knew the name, knew that it belonged to a very powerful, and even more so shrewd, being. And he knew that Loke was also important to him. Not because he cared about him—when Karon thought of the name the only feeling it invoked was that of annoyance and mistrust—but somewhere deep down, he knew that Loke was an important factor in his life.

“No, had been. No more,” Karon had to correct himself out loud.

He was getting closer to the cottage, able to make out the logs that made up its walls, and the dirt patched roof with grass growing on top.

Karon’s thoughts drifted to the spirit, Promise. He had listened as it had regaled him of what presumably was the adventures of his old life, telling of distant worlds, traveling alongside the spear, and some other companion Promise assured was of little importance.

It told him what sounded a lot like skewed hogwash and the prattle of a spirit that obviously idolized its 'master', yet it had never once mentioned Loke. No, that had come from... somewhere else.

Karon finally reached the front door of the cottage, and was about to knock when he heard a quiet sob slip out from the cracked window. Eyes narrowing, he lowered himself and sneaked towards the window, keeping against the wall, and peeked carefully to see what waited inside.

It was a bloodbath. Cheap wooden furniture in front of a fireplace now stood covered in blood, and other remains of what must have been an animal, perhaps a dog or some other guardian creature, a lot of patches of fur sticking to the surfaces as blood and other substances dripped from it.

There was a figure standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a black shirt and pants, long gray hair hanging in strips almost all the way to the man's waist. Two humans stood huddled on their knees before him, their tear-streaked faces staring up at him in soundless horror.

‘Maeror,’ Karon thought, instantly recognizing him, even though he looked different, younger.

Between the two adult humans there sat a smaller, younger figure. Dressed in a dirty nightdress, with equally dirty brown hair, cradling her head against her mother’s side while shivering visibly.

The kneeling man said something Karon didn't understand, but the tone he spoke in said he was begging for mercy, asking the black-dressed stranger to spare them. In response, Maeror laughed a horribly empty laugh lacking all traces of pity or compassion.

The family all whimpered as one beneath the promise of that laugh, and it ended in a final scream as suddenly, a stream of light rushed out of the two adults. It lasted only for a few seconds, and then, they were dead.

‘No, worse than dead,’ Karon thought. ‘Empty.’

Two now-drained corpses sat huddled together, cradling their daughter in a mummified embrace. Maeror stood shaking, his eyes closed and a grin of ecstasy on his lips, while the child wept loudly, refusing to look up and see what had become of her parents.

The rush of the life seeping out into Maeror's every cell receded eventually, and he opened his eyes with a delighted shudder; and then his gaze fell on the child. He slowly got down on his knees and tilted his head. There was a glint of interest in the man's eyes, but otherwise there was no flash of hunger or the sharp focus of a predator. For the moment, Maeror was sated.

“Look at me, child,” he said to her in a low voice, barely reaching over the sound of her weeping.

She didn't respond in any way, only clinging to the dry corpse of her mother tighter until her hands turned white.

“Look at me, child!” Maeror roared, the newly-added power amplifying his voice easily, making the window Karon looked through shake.

The child squealed with fear as the force of the roar burred into her, but it only made her shake her head as if she tried to shut away everything else but the dress she clung to. Losing his patience, Maeror reached out and grabbed her head, forcing her to turn her face towards him. She screamed briefly, but then fell silent, for as soon as Maeror met the gaze of the child, he released his hold on her and fell back on the floor, an expression of disbelief on his face as his mouth formed words but no sound came out, until eventually, a single word came out in a whisper. “Ophelia...?”

The child didn't respond, her brown eyes big and terror-stricken as she withered under the gaze of her parents’ murderer.

“No... not Ophelia,” Maeror muttered, his eyes growing distant as if speaking to himself.

The child cried silently, her pale face growing slightly blue, not daring to even breathe.

Maeror growled and reached out to grab the child's collar, tearing her away from the corpses and lifting her into the air as he stood up. The child's breath came out in shaking sobs, her eyes brimming with tears, and snot running out of her nose, yet unable to take her eyes off the stranger.

Maeror stood silent, his gaze searching for something as he watched the child. Finally, he nodded slowly, as if to himself, then put the child down on the floor and forced her head to turn to her parent's corpses.

“Look, child, look!” he said to her, grasping her jaw with one hand and her eyelids with the other, making her unable to turn away or close her eyes to the sight. “Look at them, look at all there's left of them!”

There were no words to describe the sounds the child made. She had stopped squirming, and only stared at the image of the dead; the dry and fragile skin, the mouths still open in silent screams, and the bony fingers clambering to one another, shielding a figure between they were no longer able to protect.

“Do you want to see them again?” Maeror asked, almost kindly.

The child couldn't speak, couldn't form words, and so she only nodded.

“Well then, look at me,” Maeror said, and turned the child around to face him.

She didn't resist, and on the child's face Karon could see nothing but the absence of everything else but raw pain. She looked up at Maeror with her dark hazel eyes, and carefully, Maeror let go of her head and put his hands on her shoulders.

“I am your father now. All your parents were is now inside of me; they are me now, and I am them. Do you want to be with your parents? Do you love them?”

She said something, her voice cracked and beyond emotion, the language one Karon didn't understand, but the meaning was clear.

“Then come with me, and I shall teach you what it means to a part of my family,” Maeror said with a smile, extending a hand in front of the child. She didn't move for a few seconds, her face showing no emotion or thought, then slowly, she put her small hand in his.

The entire world shifted as everything turned blurry, and Karon found himself looking through the window of the cottage again, but this time he saw the two parents standing around a table preparing food of some kind, while the child sat in front of the fire, playing a game with a shaggy four-footed creature with a wide snout and a single long horn on its forehead.

Then came the sound of someone knocking on the door, and Karon turned to see Maeror standing only a few steps to his left, hunger burning in his eyes, and a crooked smile on his lips.

Karon looked back through the window, and saw the two adults inside give one another quick looks of surprise, before the man hurried over to the door and opened it slightly. Maeror said something quietly, in a pleading voice, and the man opened the door slowly, allowing Maeror to step inside.

A thought struck Karon, and with it came an understanding. “I'm just dreaming,” he said quietly, then he turned his gaze to the child sitting in front of the fire, the animal beside her staring at Maeror and making a threatening noise of suspicion.

“No, I'm not the one dreaming,” he said, as an afterthought, and the world seemed to ripple with the understanding as he thought back to what Loke had said.

‘Dreaming, and remembering,’ Karon thought as he watched the child Dolor once had been, and felt himself begin to slip away from the dream. The last thing he saw was Maeror grin as the animal pounced upon him, just before the screaming started.

       *******************************************************************

Karon opened his eyes and found Dolor quietly breathing right next to him, her face serene despite what she was dreaming. Because Karon knew that what he had just seen was a dream, Dolor's dream, and a memory as well.

A flicker of anger made its way across his features as he thought of what he had seen inside Dolor's mind. It was obvious she had not been aware of his presence, and so had not thought to shield anything from him, letting him see her in a way Karon suspected she would not have wanted him to. But that was not the reason for his anger; no, it was what he had seen of Maeror that made him clench his jaw and ball his hands into fists.

He had hurt Dolor, his mistress, caused her such pain that even now, centuries later, she still dreamt of that moment. He had hurt her for his own selfish designs; though with a frown Karon had to admit that he didn't know what exactly they were. Regardless, he had torn her away from her family to make her a part of his own, and the thought of Maeror making Dolor do anything against her will was enough to make Karon's blood boil.

“Yeah, because tormenting someone to the point of breaking and then remaking them into 'family' is something Dolor herself would never do.”

“It's different! Dolor did what she did because she loves me, because she wanted to teach me and I was too naïve and stupid to see things as they are.”

“Stupid and naïve, yeah, but you are ever more so now. Of all the things you are and can do, you can most assuredly not see.”

“It is different,” Karon insisted.

“Yes of course, because the minute Dolor laid her eyes on you it was love at first sight, not just whatever it is called when a cat sees a new toy to play with.”

“I am no toy, Dolor loves me.”

“She loves you the way a child loves her doll, and Dolor plays rough.”

“Shut up!”

Karon got up from the couch and jerked his clothes back on, his movement angry as he forced the voice out of his consciousness. Without thinking he stalked out of the room, leaving Dolor sleeping peacefully to all appearances, and lost himself in his thoughts.

The voice was nothing but a remnant of his old self, that was a truth Karon was certain of. Some last shred of his old mind that desperately clung to the old ways of thinking and feeling, unable to cope with the new truth and joy he had discovered —no, that had been opened to him by Dolor's training.

He had to find a way to combat it, to understand the voice so he could silence it forever. But what was even more important, he realized as his nails dug into the palms of his hands, was that he found whatever weakness Maeror had.

Because nothing else truly mattered besides Dolor, and he could see now that she did not obey him because he was her father, it was because he had taken everything else away from her. He had taken her past, her real family, and even her real self from her, burned it away with pain. Karon doubted his mistress was even aware of it, but that was alright, he would be her eyes, and find a chink in Maeror's armor.

And when the time came, he would kill him.

It was the only way to truly free Dolor, to keep her safe from his influence and allow her to be as she truly were, with no fear or anything else holding her back to claim her destiny.

In the back of his mind, Karon could hear the voice laughing in irony.

            ***************************************************************

Karon sat cross-legged on the floor in his room. He had discarded his blood-red robe and sat half-naked, perspiration streaming down his chest and back. Promise was positioned in his lap, with both of Karon's hands gripping the spear lightly as the runes across the shaft glowed brightly.

“One... more time,” Karon said to the spear, the telepathic thought muddy and hard to make out, signaling just how much effort it took for Karon to formulate it.

“Are you sure, master?” the spirit sent back hesitantly.

Karon only response was a vague feeling of reassurance he sent to the spear, and he was instantly plunged into a maelstrom of memories.

He was walking through a desert, the heat of the sun hammering down on him relentlessly, driving him deeper and deeper into a state of dehydration. Ahead of him walked a bright blue equine, small and with a mane of silver shining in the sunlight bright enough to hurt his eyes if he looked directly at it. The mane itself was drenched in sweat, and from it a horn the same color as her coat pointed out, marking the creature as a unicorn.

Karon turned his head slightly to his left, and found another of the same equine race walking alongside him, though one with a more turquoise color, and the image of a lyre adorned her flank like a tattoo.

“How much longer?” she asked when she noticed Karon was looking at her.

Karon stopped, as did the equine next to him,, and he stretched out his senses, his hand reaching into his robe and grasping a rock he kept in a pocket there.

“Not long now,” he responded with a parched voice, then looked over at the blue equine continuing on her way forward. “We should stop and let Trixie summon another cloud soon, though. Wouldn't be very smart of us to arrive at the ruins completely deranged from dehydration.”

“Look on the bright side,” a voice inside of his mind spoke. “We must have gotten a wicked nice tan by now.”

Karon snorted, and saw how the equine, Lyra, nodded and looked over as the blue one gained more and more distance from them.

“That is, if her majesty the great and powerful deems herself worthy of such petty things as making sure you have water in a desert,” she said.

“Give her a break, she is trying with all this 'master' bullshit,” Karon said with a wry smile.

“Yeah, because that has nothing to do with you just wanting to see her squirm,” Lyra said with a smile to match his own.

“You know me too well, Lyra,” Karon rasped, then they both started walking again.

Karon surfaced from the memory with a gasp, finding himself even more drenched in sweat, and a curious weariness in his muscles.

“Master, please, no more! You need to rest.”

Karon was about to object, when he suddenly realized he was hunched over, bracing himself against the floor with both arms as he drew a shuddering breath. He waited a few seconds, or was it perhaps minutes, before responding.

“Fine. I need to reflect on this, anyway.”

“You've gone over more than two decades worth of memories in only a few hours. I know you are used to being able to work with memories and minds, but you must pace yourself, master. Had you attempted this before your... change, you would have gone insane from the stress.”

Karon was forced to admit that the spirit was probably right. The memories, all the knowledge he had absorbed from Silch as he devoured the creature had been structured, already formed as a mind with memories set in a complex pattern. But now Karon was forced to drag out memories from his own mind, using Promise as a relay to access what was outside of his consciousness to control. He let her into the very depths of his mind, trusting in the spirit's mistaken devotion to him, and letting her act as a mirror to reflect the memories she found inside of him.

It was very taxing to relive it all as if he were there, discovering all the things that had marked him, in body, mind and spirit. To feel the wounds that left scars he brushed with his fingertips, and experiencing emotions and thoughts he knew were his own, just belonging to a different self, of another time and place.

Perhaps it was not the memories that taxed him, Karon thought, but trying to align them with who he was now.

“Wow, you actually realized something before I had a chance to hint at it with some kind of sarcastic quip. If you continue down this road, I might find myself out of a job soon.”

“Fuck off!”

“Heh, haven't heard that in a while. Seems like old Karon is making an appearance, after all.”

“There is no old Karon, only the one I am now, Mendax Karon Bellum.”

“There's more truth to that than you realize.”

Karon growled in a half sigh and struggled to get up from the floor, throwing the spear onto the bed and ignoring the mental yelp of surprise from the spirit.

There was much that had been revealed through the recovered memories, or perhaps reclaimed was a better word. But chief among these things was the disappointing understanding that the voice wasn't just an echo of his old self seeking to turn him back; the voice had been present before Dolor had found him.

He knew the voice had something do to with Loke, as it had appeared at the same time the god started meddling in his life, his old life; but he couldn't say how and why, exactly. Perhaps that would be revealed later as he went through his memories. That was his hope, at least, as he braced himself with an arm against the wall and allowed the aftershock from the flood of memories to pass through him.

If he found what the voice was, and why it existed, he could end it.

“If you knew who and what I am, you wouldn't want to end me.”

“And why's that?” Karon thought as he rubbed the spot between his eyes, playing along.

“Because I am you.”

Karon scoffed, then went back to his earlier line of thought.

“Your memories are taxing you like this because you're struggling against the fact that they are YOUR memories.”

“It's memories of someone else, a person that is dead and replaced with someone better.”

“Really? Then why are you still Karon?”

“What kind of stupid question is that? Of course I'm Karon, I'm ME; just a different me, because Dolor has changed me.”

“That much is clear. You've never been more boring than at the moment; it's all talk, talk, talk and brooding, brooding, brooding now. But that'll change, you'll see.”

“What is it that I need to see? What is it you think I'm so blind towards?”

“Why you do what you do. It is an important question, and finding the answer will solve this entire riddle you are struggling to solve.”

“Which is?”

“Who you are.”

“I know who I am. I am Mendax Karon Bellum.”

“Yeah, but you have no idea what being that means; you spent more than a year learning the absolute basics of what meant being Karon, what being a trickster meant. But that is only what you are; now, who you are, that is even more complicated.”

“This is getting philosophical to a ridiculous degree. Why don't you just tell me what you want said and skip the foreplay?”

The voice laughed, not the bitter dry laugh Karon had heard before, but a wicked, joyful laugh filled with mirth and an edge of playfulness.

“What?!” Karon asked with an annoyed thought.

“Your old self is shining through; or real self is more accurate. You are, and remain Karon, even if there is more to your name now.”

“I've had enough of this bullshit! Dreams, memories and a god damn voice that thinks it knows everything!”

Karon went out the door, his footsteps loud as he stomped down the hallway. He sent out his senses and found Dolor down in the grand room, still sleeping if the feeling of her aura was anything to go by.

He continued until he reached the room, Dolor still on the couch sleeping peacefully. Behind her, in the far corner sat Maeror on his chair, a book in his lap and his attention firmly engrossed in it; or at least so it seemed. Karon was certain that the man—no, creature—was aware of him, and probably everything else inside the manor.

Karon swallowed nervously when he walked over to Dolor, falling down on his knees beside her. The thought was ridiculous, but there was a slight chance that the ancient soul eater was so powerful, as to be able to pluck Karon's treasonous thoughts of overthrowing him right out of his head, no matter how deeply he hid them.

But it seemed unlikely, especially since Maeror showed no sign of being aware of mutiny within his 'family'.

“Or maybe he does, and he doesn't care.”

“Why the hell would he ignore someone planning to kill him?”

“Perhaps he doesn't care because he isn't afraid. He is ancient, and very, very powerful.”

Karon suppressed a shudder. If Maeror was so powerful that he had simply moved beyond fear of a threat to his life, thinking himself too powerful for anything to kill him, Karon had reason to be worried.

“Everything has a weakness, and I will find his and exploit it.”

“Good, still thinking like a trickster.”

Karon's mouth twitched into a smile, though he couldn't say why. He reached out and stroked a hand along Dolor's cheek, his face turning into a look of tender love. The embers still burning in Karon's mind, the anger and frustration for all the unanswered questions, melted away at the feeling of Dolor's skin.

He would face all of it, without flinching, for her. He would go through all the memories of a past life, to gain answers and knowledge. And he would play as whatever pawn the god Loke thought he was, and learn how to control the ability to walk in dreams. He would do whatever it took to gain the answers and power he needed to kill Maeror.

Then Dolor would be free, and everything would be perfect.

Dolor stirred, then her eyes flickered open. She blinked a few times rapidly, then her eyes came into focus and settled on Karon, and a smile crept unto her lips.

“Mendax Karon Bellum,” she said, slowly putting emphasis on each syllable.

“That is my name,” Karon confirmed.

“I can taste war in your name, death and suffering on a grand scale, marking the souls of thousands,” she whispered with glee.

“And that makes you happy?” Karon asked.

“Of course, my sweet. All those souls, all that pain and passion unleashed as chaos shatters their lives. I can already taste it like an echo from your future, a seed planted in your spirit of what is to come.”

“Bellum,” Karon whispered, feeling the name rise to his mind in response to her words.

“Yes, and Mendax: the heart of deceit, to create a true lie, to trap a mind utterly and make it blind.”

Karon swallowed as his mind filled with visions, flashing images he couldn't piece together. And he found himself asking without meaning to, “What about Karon?”

Dolor's smile faltered, and her mouth twisted into a sour grimace. “Don't worry about that, my sweet. It is not important.”

“La lala lala, in the land of denial, lala, lala...” The voice sang.

She sat up in the sofa, gingerly grasping Karon's face with both hands, and for a second the image of Maeror doing the same to a crying child flickered disturbingly in Karon's mind.

“Your old life is not important.”

“It's one life.”

“You are home now.”

“You're lost.”

“You don't need anyone else but me.”

“She is the one that needs us.”

“You are perfect.”

“You're wounded.”

Karon resisted the urge to slap himself, keeping a straight face as the voice spoke together with every sentence Dolor uttered, denying her love, denying the truth she had brought him. She brought her head to his, gingerly kissing him, tracing her lips over his face, before coming to rest against his mouth.

“You are mine,” she whispered.

“She does not understand who or what we are. Will you put your trust in a creature that does not know what it means to be a trickster?”

Karon looked into Dolor's eyes. The streaks of red within fiery orange seemed like two angry suns bleeding, and unwillingly, the dream Karon had intruded upon came back to him, remembering the sight of two hazel eyes of an ordinary child.

“I am yours,” he repeated, burying the doubt deep within himself where it could not threaten the bond between him and his mistress.

“Then come, my sweet. Let us wander in our forest, and taste the souls and lives of our universe.”

Karon nodded, and grasped her hand as she lead him out from the manor, and into the cool embrace of the perpetual night. They walked together, their hands linked and faces bathed in starlight, devouring the echoes of events far away, captured and bleeding from screaming trees, caught in a cage that did not allow them to die.

Karon shivered, all doubts melting away beneath the waves of energy that coursed through him, all sinking into his heart through wounds that only grew hungrier the more they were feed. Love, anger, pain, regret, hope and sacrifice. A whirlwind, a storm of conflicts and battles, fought on grand scales and inside singular individuals.

And for a moment, for just the smallest fraction of a heartbeat, Karon felt something familiar within that storm, but it was lost as quickly as it had appeared.

He stopped, causing Dolor to turn her face to him with a frown as she asked, “What is the matter?”

“Nothing, I just... felt something strange.”

“There are many strange places in this universe, my sweet, and the roots of our trees stretch deep into it,” she responded with a smile.

Karon smiled back at her, but kept his thoughts hidden as they continued their walk. The source of the energy had been more than just strange, it had been intense for sure, but it'd felt...

“Familiar.”

Karon couldn't ignore the voice this time. Familiar was exactly how it had felt, like the being the energy had come from was linked to him somehow, but in what way there was no way to tell.

He couldn't remember.

                     **********************************************************

The light exploded outwards, blinding Karon's eyes and burning the last image into his retinas. Trixie, staring at him, her eyes wide and her mouth uttering his name. Then, when the image faded from his eyes, and he could see clearly again, all he could see was a burnt-out husk of a shattered tree, the smoldering stump the only thing left.

She was gone. He had lost her.

Karon tore himself out of the vision, throwing the spear away and gripping his chest with both hands. Slowly, he managed to push the wave of emotions pulling and twisting him away.

“Just memories,” he said hoarsely. “That's not who I am anymore… just memories.”

The effort to steady his breathing was enough to make his head spin, cold sweat clinging to his skin and making the air around him colder. He turned his head up and looked around the room, letting his gaze drift and not focusing on anything, little by little returning to the present.

He remembered. Not all was back yet, but even now he could feel more memories yearning to release themselves, to bring him back to a time past when he had been a different person, walking a different road. Loving someone else.

“Trix,” Karon whispered, tasting the name as his eyes came to rest on the ceiling, the dim light of the crystals comforting in a way.

For once, the voice remained silent, despite that it should be chattering away more than ever now, though Karon realized why it didn't after a few minutes; it didn't need to. Karon remembered everything, and the information was more than any snide or sarcastic words of semi-wisdom could make any sense of.

“Who am I?” he groaned out loud and cradled his face with his hands. “Mendax Karon Bellum,” he answered himself a few seconds later, and understanding began to dawn, or perhaps it was desperation.

If there was any sense to make of everything that had happened, of what he had discovered, of who he was, it was through understanding that name; or rather, Name. It was supposed to be the thing that revealed his nature, that told of his past, present and future, and everything else connected to his life.

That was how he would gain answers, he thought to himself and rose, his back cracking as he straightened his spine.

“Just don't forget the true reason why you're doing this: to gain power and free Dolor from Maeror.”

“Yeah, sure, that's the real reason.”

He turned to the window and looked out upon the forest, the crown of the leafless trees stretching up towards the dark sky like iron spikes, a hungry reflection of the roots in the hard earth somehow reaching out across the stars and sucking energy from uncountable worlds.

“Or perhaps just reaching for the heavens, begging for mercy.”

The train of thought was interrupted when the door behind him opened, and he turned to face Dolor entering through it, wearing a childlike grin on her face.

“My sweet, I have exciting news,” she said with barely-constrained eagerness in her voice.

“Tell me,” Karon said, the sight of her so obviously happy enough to give him a grin of his own.

“I have been pleading with father for weeks now to allow me to take you to one of the worlds, to let you mix with the souls there, and hunt for one you wish to eat.”

Karon forced his grin to widen, as if the possibility excited him, when in truth he had to keep himself from scowling. The fact that she had to plead with the old man, beg him, when she should be able to do as she please, go as she pleased, was enough to send Karon into a daydream of beating the old man to death with one of the old books he was always reading.

“And?” Karon asked, making a show of waiting with bated breath.

“He finally agreed!” she squealed and clapped her hands together, then quickly put up a finger as if to halt his own assumed glee, and said in a warning tone, “But we must do so discreetly. There are forces and beings that do not approve of our ways, or even existence, and should they become aware of us, or even worse our home, father will not be happy.”

Karon nodded solemnly, swallowing the lump of rage rising in his throat, and embracing Dolor as she threw herself into a hug. She rubbed her head against his chest, whispering about the different worlds and places she might take him, and the wonders they might find there.

Karon only listened with half an ear, already decided where and what he would hunt; the place where he would find the most powerful soul possible. He would devour it, and learn all he could while gaining its strength, and he would do the same as he continued seeking answers and finding out about his name and self, until he had reached enough power to challenge Maeror; or at least stick a knife in his back successfully.

Dolor said something, and Karon brought himself out of his reverie. “I will go make some preparations and make a list of all the places we might go so you can choose, my sweet. This is, after all, your first hunt.”

“Then go,” Karon said, smiling at her gleeful expression. Just as she turned to leave, he took a step after her and smacked her ass.

As soon as he had, Karon froze, his eyes wide as he realized what he had just done. Dolor froze as well, and as she slowly turned Karon could feel the blood in his veins turn to ice. However, when she looked back at him, she didn't look angry, only surprised. Then she giggled and said, “Not now, my sweet. I have planning to do, for now; we can celebrate later.”

As she turned away from him and walked out the door, Karon breathed a sigh of relief, and walked over to the bed with shaky legs and fell down on it.

“Where did that come from?”

                        *****************************************************

Karon looked around himself with raised eyebrows. He was back in the forest, the hallways of trees stretching out around him like spidery roads leading from the center. It was obvious now that there really was no forest or hallways; it was merely an image plastered over a working of energy and forces too complicated for him to understand without something for his mind to grab onto.

“Too complicated for now, anyway,” he said.

This time he knew he was dreaming. It was hard not to, considering where he was, even when it felt so real, as real as anything else; but perhaps just a little more... accepting to his influence.

To gain power, he would need to master this new trick of his, and see just what he could do with it. Perhaps he could even visit Maeror's dreams—if the fiend even dreamed at all—and find a weakness. But that would have to wait until later; Karon wasn't sure to what extent this ability kept him hidden from the dreamers’ awareness, and if Maeror should discover him snooping around, things would become… complicated.

A test subject was needed, and Karon chuckled when he thought of a perfect one. He started heading down on of the hallways, thinking hard of Timor, waiting for the world to shift and send him into the soul-eater's dreams.

Nothing happened. He continued walking on, his brows furrowed in concentration as he imagined his annoying hissing, the arrogant tone of voice and the incessant threats. Yet still, nothing but the endless hallway of trees with their leafy canopy blocking out all but the smallest of sun rays.

And just as Karon gave up and released all of his efforts towards invading Timor’s dreams, the world blurred into a kaleidoscope of shifting shapes, a brief spinning sensation coming over the trickster.

When everything settled again, he found himself standing inside a wide and spacious room, filled with carved tables and stools made of the same wood as the thick log walls that formed a neat square around him. Karon noted that the floor was little more than packed earth, mirroring the obviously dirt-patched roof above his head. Several humans were gathered at the tables around the room, many of them eating what Karon assumed to be some sort of stew from wooden bowls and chatting amongst themselves in small, huddled groups.

Karon quickly sat down on one of the stools, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible. Even though no eye turned towards him, it wasn't clear if the people didn't register his presence within the dream, or if they simply didn't want to bother with him. The answer became obvious when a familiar figure passed by him without sparing him a glance.

Dolor walked towards a table with three men sitting around it close together, her hair a shorter cut than Karon was used to, ending barely below her shoulders, and unlike the dark gown she always wore in the manor, she was now wearing a practical set of dark brown leather pants and a green jacket of unknown fabric.

Karon folded his hands and rested his chin upon them, watching with a wry smirk as Dolor approached the men with wagging hips, stopping at their table to lean forward, giving them a decent view of the cleavage offered by the lightly-buttoned jacket.

The three men instantly ceased with whatever conversation they had been engrossed in, and stared slack-jawed at the beauty smiling at them. Karon allowed his eyes to move away from the scene for a moment, assured that he wouldn't miss anything as the men looked to need a while before any real cognitive function would return to them.

After a few seconds he found what he was looking for: Maeror, sitting alone in a dark corner with his eyes fixed on Dolor, but with a glassy sheen to them as if he were only paying the least amount of attention necessary, and the rest was focused on something only he could see.

Karon turned back to Dolor in time to see one of the men regain his composure and say something he couldn't make out. Karon quickly rose from his seat and headed over towards them, sticking to the side of everyone’s line of sight, least whoever Timor was would spot him and trigger a memory, causing him to realize it was all a dream.

They were speaking in a tongue Karon couldn't understand, and since there was truthfully no one present besides him and Timor, it would yield nothing to try and read their minds. Instead Karon had to remain content watching them, piecing together meaning through context and body language.

After a while of conversation, where Dolor talked and the men mostly replied in grunts, stammering singular words, or just a bit of drooling, the three men rose from their seats with a quick look over at Maeror sitting in the corner. They all raised their glasses towards him, giving a joyful shout before allowing Dolor to take point and lead the men out from the building.

Karon followed, noticing that the room was starting to become blurry as the group was heading away from it. One of the three men was obviously Timor, and the world around them was only substantial around the dreamer, so Karon decided it was best to stay close. It was only a dream, but he didn't know if getting trapped or thrown out of it had any serious consequences.

Outside it was dark, with a view of a snow-covered forest that sat at the foot of the mountain they stood on. The building behind them stood covered between two rock faces, protecting the rickety-looking building from the winds that caught Karon's robe and made it flutter violently.

A light blanket of snow covered the rock beneath their feet, and the light from the two moons that shone in the sky reflected off sheets of ice poking forth here and there. Without hesitating Dolor lead the three men down a rickety path marked by wooden posts.

When they reached the forest floor, the men gathered in a whispering group, nudging each other with laughing comments, and just generally behaving like a merry lot. Karon wasn't sure what was going on, but the men were behaving like a pack of teenage boys thinking they were successfully chatting up a beautiful girl. They all wore patchworked clothes of leather, most of it with the fur—and in some cases even the ears—still present, and looked quite comfortable in the chill of the winter night.

The smile on Dolor's face told Karon that whatever notion the men had gotten into their heads, the real purpose for why they had gone outside was far more sinister than anything they would dare imagine.

Karon watched the exchange, until the men eventually all shook hands with one another, and turned to Dolor in a half circle, waiting for her to speak. She did, the language a guttural one, with short punctuated sentences that made it sound like they were chewing on gravel.

When she finished, the men all gave grunts of agreement and watched as Dolor gave them one last grin, then bolted into the forest.

They remained still, their breath coming out in steamy clouds, and looked to be concentrating on something. Then, they all looked at one another, broad smiles on their faces, and as one, they set off into the forest after Dolor, breaking from each other after a few steps and heading into different directions.

Karon noticed that the world was getting blurry at the edges to both sides of himself, and so decided to follow the one that had gone straight forward. After reaching a few hundred meters into the forest, the man slowed down to a steady jog, stopping every now and then to observe the ground before continuing on.

‘A hunter,’ Karon thought, nodding slightly. ‘Definitely Timor.’

He followed him for a long time, the moons above sailing across the sky ever so steadily, until they both froze when the sound of screaming reached their ears. It came from far off, but it was so loud that it still managed to convey utter horror.

Karon hurried forward until he came up alongside Timor, watching his face. There was fear written all over it, but also confusion. His right hand had sought its way down to a dagger hanging from a rope-belt at his waist, and the thumb was gently stroking the base of the hilt.

There was no sign of fear present on Karon's face; he knew he couldn't be hurt as it was just a dream, but he was curious to where this was all leading. It was obvious the scream had come from one of the men, probably Dolor deciding that whatever game she was playing was starting to get boring and ate him. However, since this hunter before him was Timor, it couldn't end the same way for him as it would for his two friends.

After a while of maintaining his still posture, Timor started to creep forward, hunched down low and his head held high, breathing in deeply of the night air, listening for the slightest of sounds. Karon kept pace with his slow crawl easily, observing with an amused smile the way Timor's eyes moved over everything slowly, but never once stopping and focusing on it. It didn't matter how good the hunter might think himself, though. He wouldn't stand a chance against Dolor; she was toying with him, and he didn't even know it.

Soon enough, the sound of the second man screaming echoed through the forest, stirring up a nest of birdlike creatures that flew up into the air with protesting squawks. At that moment, Timor seemed to loose his nerve; whereas before he had crept forward carefully with all senses on high alert, he now simply turned around and bolted.

Karon ran after him, the sound of their muffled footsteps the only thing audible in the night. Despite his panic, Karon noticed that Timor was still in control of his breathing, and his flight wasn't as panicked as it seemed; he kept an even pace, his feet slamming down on the ground with only as much force as was needed, and his balance remained centered.

They ran, and ran, and ran. Then suddenly, Timor stopped, his eyes widening as a horrific realization struck him. Karon didn't understand at first, then he looked around carefully realizing that there was something wrong with the forest.

Considering the speed they had kept, and the distance they had managed to venture into the forest before turning around, they should have come out of it by now. Instead, all that could be seen in every direction were trees.

Karon assumed Timor knew the forest better than he did, because the hunter growled something he suspected was a curse, as the man understood that he was trapped somehow. He crouched down low in the snow, going down on his knees before brushing away some of it until there was a cleared patch of ground before him. He then moved to the middle of it before laying down on his side, covering himself with the snow.

It took him less then a minute to finish, and suddenly Karon was staring at something that looked like a snow-covered boulder, the dark of the night shrouding the hardly-visible flaws and the tracks in the snow. To be able to see through the hasty disguise would require one to know what to look for.

“Or, an ability to see and feel auras and energy fields,” Karon said with an amused shake of his head, well understanding the futility of Timor's attempt at hiding.

Soon enough, the sound of giggling reached his ears, and even though the pile of snow didn't move, Karon couldn't imagine that the sound wouldn't have sent a shiver through the hunter's body.

It didn't take long before Dolor tired of the game, and she appeared out of the dark, her steps without sound as she approached the snow-covered hunter in a straight line. She stopped just in front of it, her eyes twinkling with sadistic glee as she looked down on the camouflaged hunter.

Then abruptly, catching both Dolor and Karon by surprise, Timor sprang up, flinging a handful of the cold dirt he had been laying on into her eyes. Dolor shrieked, more out of surprise than pain, as Timor ducked and threw himself to his left just as a bolt of red energy lashed out from Dolor's hands, hitting a tree instead and ripping the bark off of it.

Timor immediately got up on his feet and ran as fast as he could, leaving Dolor to scratch at her eyes with angered whines. Karon followed, and was surprised when the hunter stopped only after a few minutes, quickly getting out a string of rope from a pocket, and hurriedly tying it around a tree to his left, then hurrying over and stretching it taut as he tied it to a tree on his right.

The rope, invisible in the dark, was strung around Dolor's throat level, and Karon was forced to admit he was a little impressed that Timor was able to think so clearly considering the situation. Then again, the hunter didn't know what Dolor truly was. To his eyes she might be some kind of sadistic sorceress, or a monster of some kind. A terrifying possibility to be sure, but a soul-eater was probably nothing that had crossed his mind. That was a possibility none ever wanted to consider.

Timor took cover behind one of the trees and waited. Time passed, but there was no sound of anyone running into his crude trap, and the anticipation was taking a noticeable toll on Timor, the hunter unable to quite keep still.

There was no warning when a hand exploded through the trunk of the tree Timor was hiding behind, grasping the hunter by the throat and flinging him to the side. Dolor effortlessly yanked her arm to the right, breaking through the tree and walking towards Timor while the thing slowly toppled over with a creaking ending in a loud crack.

Karon walked beside her, and despite the dark it was plain to see that Timor had expended all his tricks and was now done. He sat on the ground shivering, either from the cold, the fear, or both. When Dolor stopped in front of him and smiled, he tried to speak, but the only sound that came out was that of his teeth chattering loudly.

Dolor spoke instead, her voice purring, and she went down on her knees, reaching out for him as if to give him a hug. The hunter didn't move, and Karon noticed that his right hand was ever so slowly moving towards the dagger at his side; Dolor didn't.

She spoke again and leaned forward, and just then the dagger broke free out of its sheath and aimed true for Dolor's throat. She caught Timor’s wrist in her left hand, a red light immediately blossoming in her palm as the energy entered his body.

The hunter fell back on the ground in convulsions, his scream tearing through the air, and for the third time that night the silence of the forest was shattered.

Dolor observed him with what looked like a thoughtful expression, then she snapped her fingers and the hunter stilled, the magic lifted from him. She tilted her head, then tapped her fingers against her thigh a few times before her eyes grew distant. When focus returned to them, she didn’t move, instead remaining still, waiting. A few minutes later, the sound of crunching snow reached Karon’s ears, and he turned to see Maeror coming into view.

“Are you done?” he asked, the language clear and understandable to Karon.

“No... not yet,” Dolor answered, motioning towards the barely-conscious Timor with her right hand.

“So finish him and let us go, this place had little worth seeing or eating,” Maeror told her sternly.

“Father, I was wondering...” Dolor spoke hesitantly, her voice sweet and as innocent as Karon suspected she could make it.

Maeror's eyes narrowed and his brows knitted downwards, but he didn't respond.

“You are very busy with all your work, I understand. But it is very boring for me now that you barely spend any time with m—”

“I can sense your thoughts, daughter, and I do not like them. You will not bring a member into this family for the sake of entertainment!” Maeror barked harshly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Dolor found some anyway. “It isn't just for my sake, but yours, too! If I have someone else to spend time with, to hunt with, then you won't have to look after me so much anymore. And who better to hunt with me than someone who was already such a skilled hunter in his old life as this one?”

“What's so skilled about him?” Maeror asked with obvious skepticism in his voice, but there was also a slight note of interest in his reply as well.

“He has acted with far more cunning than the others, and even managed to trick me into a trap once... almost. He will be perfect, father, I swear, I will have so much fun playing with him, and teaching him, an—”

“Fine, fine!” Maeror said and looked up at the stars with an exasperated look. “You can make him one of us, but the trial period and initiation—if he even makes it that far—will be your responsibility.”

Dolor squealed in joy, throwing herself into Maeror's arms and hugging him, before letting go and skipping over to Timor's crumpled form. She spoke again in that abrupt, guttural language, and Karon saw that it was all too much for the hunter, and the last thing the hunter was faced with was Dolor clapping her hands and grinning down at him.

              ***********************************************************

Karon woke up with a groan and rubbed his face, spending extra time at his eyes, clearing away the dirt before opening them with a few blinks. When his sight settled and everything came into focus, he realized he wasn't in the bedroom anymore. He was in the forest.

“Wh—” he began, spinning around as if to make sure.

“Yeah, because this could totally be that other dark forest with dimension-spanning trees we’re in.”

“Maybe I'm still dreaming,” Karon thought and pinched his arm, but nothing happened.

“Obviously not.”

“What the hell are we doing out here!?”

“I don't know, maybe it's some side effect of dream walking, or maybe a part of you just felt for a walk.”

“Don't bullshit me! You know something.”

“Moi!? I am shocked you would think I would keep something or even lie to you.”

“Go blow yourself!”

“Sorry, baby, but you gotta buy me dinner first.”

With a disgusted look on his face Karon cast out his senses, quickly finding his bearings and the way back to the mansion. He hadn't moved far, and it only took him a couple of minutes to get back home; even so, as he passed through the front door there was a visible tension to him.

He could sense the presence of Dolor in the grand room, her energy shining like a beacon of excitement, most likely going through places they might venture to on Karon's first hunt. Next to her there was a black hole, a swirling vortex of energy and hunger, circling around something Karon couldn't, and certainly didn't want to try and sense. Timor wasn't to be found, most likely out in the forest, leaving the only other presences to consider the almost dead, empty flickers of life found in the servants, four of them in total standing at different places in the manor, awaiting a calling.

Karon drew back his senses, and as he considered his options he realized he needed to converse with someone about what had just happened. But none of the beings in the manor was suitable, everyone with the exception of Dolor was a potential enemy, and he didn't want to burden her with his problems.

Then he remembered Promise. He hurried up to the second floor, marching into his and Dolor's bedroom with wide strides and picking up the spear as soon he entered.

“Master, how can I help you?” Promise asked instantly, flooding Karon's mind with her almost fractured energy.

“Promise, can you sense anything... strange going on inside me?” he asked the spirit carefully.

“Strange? Well, there's... a lot going on, and it's kinda hard to make out what is strange and what's normal. Maybe there's something specific you want me to look for?”

“Anything that's related to dreaming.”

“Ohh, well there's... nothing. Nothing going on with dreaming as far as I can sense. But that doesn't have to mean much. What's happened, master?”

Karon hesitated, considering how much was wise to tell the spirit.

“I have been experimenting with a new ability... the ability to walk into other being's dreams.”

“I always knew you were talented, master; this is just further proof of how amazing you are!”

“Yeah... but it was strange because this time, when I woke up I find myself out in the forest outside... standing up as if I had just been walking around while asleep.”

“That does sound strange.”

“So you can't sense anything that might have been the cause, no trace of anything that might have taken command while my consciousness wasn't present?”

“No, no trace, but...”

“Yes?”

“Master, your mind is... complicated. I can sense several different forms of energy, several different directions your mind is drawn towards. You are only aware of some of them, the rest are suppressed. It might, just might, be possible that while you were busy in the dream that your body instead started following what you are pushing away.”

“That shouldn't be possible; I went through those fucking memories of my old self! I know everything from my past incarnation!”

“I know master, I know! But I can't see any other way, unless you were simply sleepwalking.”

“No, I wasn't,” Karon responded with certainty.

“How can you be so sure, master?”

“Because... there was something there,” he replied, the thought barely a whisper.

Promise didn't respond, instead it waited for him to continue.

“I felt... something, it vanished as soon as I became fully awake, but for a moment, there was something. I could sense something.”

“What master? What could you sense?”

Karon didn't notice how his right hand reached up and clutched at his chest, nor did he notice the way his eyes started tearing up.

“No, I couldn't sense anything... I felt it, inside me, and I was looking for it.”

“Master?”

“Where is she?” he whispered.

“She, master?”

Karon's head jerked up, then he shook it violently, dropping his hand down from his chest and wiping his eyes. He put Promise back up against the wall without saying anything further.

“I am Mendax Karon Bellum, soul-eater and lover of Dolor. This manor is my home, and this forest is my banquet. I belong here,” he said out loud, repeating it several time as a mantra.

Eventually whatever had come over him settled back down, disappearing without a trace and leaving his mind clear. Karon waited for a while, making sure that nothing further happened. Then he went out of the room and headed downstairs towards Dolor.

He would help her choose a place for his hunt, and he would devour a soul which would give him power and knowledge. He would continue to grow until he could defeat Maeror and free Dolor from the invisible chains he had wrapped around her. Nothing else mattered.

No one else mattered.

Next Chapter: Dark Roots (Part 6) Estimated time remaining: 5 Hours, 44 Minutes