ACT I : SIN

 

A priestess knelt at the altar, her head bowed in prayer. She was garbed in white, with a thin plate of armor over her robes and a longsword at her belt. Her golden hair was tied back, leaving loose pieces in the front to fall into her dark brown eyes. She rose to her feet when she heard footsteps approaching.

"Good day, Ishtar."

She turned, nodding in greeting the approaching scholar. Though they belonged to the same order, their viewpoints and standing were so vastly different that she sometimes forgot they were meant to be allies and not rivals.

"Good day to you as well, Septimus. What brings you here?"

Septimus smiled, stopping in front of her. He, in contrast, wore the deep indigo and black robes of the members of the order who had chosen the path of darkness. His hair, which fell to his shoulders, was silver, and his eyes were a few shades darker, more of a slate-gray. "I regularly visit this part of the temple."

"But... Shouldn't you be..." She stopped.

"...In the lower levels, with the rest of my lot?" His smile faded. Venom entered his eyes.

Ishtar shook her head. "Forgive me. I meant no offense. Rather, it is odd that a follower of the dark would come here, you usually have few dealings with our kind."

"Nay, I believe our coexistence is vital to the survival of this order. I was hoping I would find you here, actually..."

"Oh? And why, pray tell?"

"I find your views on the world fascinating, Ishtar. I can never fathom them for the life of me, no matter how many of your priestesses explain them, but still... I love to talk of them. Contrast, such sharp contrast to my own..."

Ishtar merely shook her head again. "Forgive me, Septimus... I fear I know not of what you speak."

"You who follow the light find your power in faith. You believe in that which is intangible, that which you cannot see, cannot hear, cannot feel. That which may not exist."

Ishtar stepped forward. "Do you mock our way of life, Septimus?"

"No. Allow me to continue." He began to pace, slowly, but his gaze never left her eyes. "We of the dark draw strength from knowledge, from understanding. We seek enlightenment on everything, and do not believe in that which we cannot observe."

Ishtar blinked. "And? What is it you are hoping to accomplish in saying all this?"

“I want to learn, Ishtar. I want to learn this world's secrets, I want to know its origin. I seek knowledge, knowledge that I cannot possibly hope to gain from human teachings.”

She felt her heartbeat quicken. He wouldn't. Septimus... She had always known he had far-fetched ideas, ever since they were children, but this? He truly sounded like a madman. She'd had her suspicions in the past about Septimus's dealings with the dark beings whose names none dared to speak, but he could not possibly be seeking to learn from them the absolute knowledge forbidden to any human.

Still, she felt she had to ask him. She had to hear it from him to reassure herself.

“...What are you planning, Septimus?”

“A symposium with the dark. I want to know it all, Ishtar. I want to know everything.” He smiled, the same gentle smile he always gave her. It seemed out of place now, with the words he spoke. “You see, I believe that as powerful as our lifestyles are on their own, they can become almighty when united... I am going to awaken the latent darkness of the abyss using the souls of those who wander this place as a sacrifice... I will put faith in that darkness... In order to achieve absolute knowledge."

"You do realize what this would mean?" she asked him, an edge entering her voice. He couldn't do this, if anyone else of the order learned what he was planning, he would be executed. "You will bring destruction on the world, Septimus!"

He shook his head, turning slowly. "I will be in control of the knowledge I gain. Think of it, Ishtar, think of what I could do for the world, if I knew that much." His voice was softer now, the words a promise. "I...I had hoped you would be more accepting. But alas, I hoped in vain. In time, you will come to understand..."

He turned and slowly exited the room, his footsteps fading eerily into the hallways.

Ishtar found she could not call out to him.

 

"O, great and immeasurable shadows, come to this place and receive the wandering of souls of the dead as an offering, and one of my own blood. My body will be thy vessel... I offer you myself, body and soul, in exchange for the infinite knowledge it is within your power to bestow. Awaken, Lucifurius, creature of the dark... and hear my adulation..."

From the gash on his arm, Septimus watched, transfixed, as his blood dripped onto the ancient, crumbling dark altar. The feeling of the presence of the darkness he had summoned slowly but surely became stronger, the sounds of the voices of his sacrifices more prominent. A final cry of defiance before they were forever silenced.

Then, everything was bathed in black.

The darkness was stifling. Septimus felt his chest tighten, he had to struggle to breathe. A voice, powerful but without identity, spoke to him.

So a human has finally gathered the courage to summon me forth. You would seek to house this power, mortal?

Without hesitation, he answered: "Yes."

The voice seemed to laugh. Very well... But know that your frail human mind was not meant to contain such vast reserves of knowledge...

"Oh, wasn't it?"

Now the voice was booming with laughter, though it was cold. Lifeless. You do amuse me, human! I shall enjoy using you as my vessel!

Septimus felt the presence enter his mind, so overwhelmingly powerful it frightened him,

You will be my puppet...

And then the knowledge, the understanding, filled his mind. Filled it to the brink. Millennia, generations of human existence, farther back, to prehistoric times, back before the birth of the Earth, to the days when primordial darkness had ruled every stretch of time and space...

Complete enlightenment... Exactly what you wished for.

Then, it broke him. He fell to his knees, the darkness receded. It took all his strength to raise his head and look at the altar before him, his blood turned black upon it.

Fool human... You have opened the gates of hell on the world of mortals! Not a single living soul will be spared my wrath! I shall claim my rightful position as ruler of all, and you, my puppet, will be the hand that slays that which stands in my way!

Death! Death to them all!

2: Act II: Birth

ACT II: BIRTH

In the end, it had been Ishtar who killed him.

The members of the Order had found Septimus Swain after months of searching, hidden away in an underground temple built ages ago as a shrine to the being his mind and body now housed.

They found him, driven mad by the knowledge bestowed upon him and the presence of the dark being within him. Ishtar herself had killed him, though whether it was because she felt the obligation to out of loyalty to the Order or pity for the man who had long been her only friend, the entity within Septimus, Lucifurius, knew not.

What he did know was that he now lacked a mind and body to control. He had never intended to remain with Septimus as a host for very long, the fool had only been useful in releasing him into the human world once again. Lucifurius was weak, powerless as of yet, unable to create his own body. He would need another host.

Over centuries he wandered, taking possession of one human mind after another, instilling within them the urge to kill, driving them to slaughter masses so that he could feed off the life forces of those killed. His power was steadily growing. Soon, he would be able to create a body for himself, and then nothing would stand in his way. He would return this world to the primordial darkness from which it first arose, and then he would rule that darkness.

He needed one more host, however, before that could be accomplished.

And after years of searching, he found one.

 

“Your father has learned of your existence, now, child.”

Silence.

“He wants you to awaken, he wants to teach you to be his heir. He would not come here for me, but he returns for you.” A shift. “I find I do not like that. At all.”

The owner of the voice stepped back, into the shadows cast by the mass of roots hanging above her.

“If you were to not be here when he came, however... Then I suppose there would be no dispute.”

Her musings earned no response.

“And it means nothing to you. I speak and you do not hear me. You will awake in time, and you will know nothing of me, nothing of this place.” She thought, a moment of hesitation disrupting the decision.

But it did not last.

 

Discarded was really the only word to describe the state of the boy. Discarded from the same dark place Lucifurius had been summoned from, cast into this world. He was not human, Lucifurius could sense that much about his essence. Seemingly mindless, but Lucifurius could tell that the catatonia was merely dormancy. A newborn, easily influenced mind. No prior motivations, no reasons to resist.

A perfect puppet.

 

Nightfall on the forest saw his awakening.

Eyes the color of flames, set in a thin, angular face, opened slowly, focusing to take in dimly lit surroundings. After a few long moments of observation, he moved, slowly, weakly pushing himself to a sitting position. Bits of dirt and grass clung to the thin tunic he wore, and he absently tried to brush them away. Jagged pieces of blood-red hair fell into his eyes and he shook them away as he slowly stood, using a tree for support. His legs were weak, they nearly buckled beneath him, but he steadied himself enough to remain standing. A shiver wracked his thin frame.

Everything was unfamiliar. The musty scent of decaying foliage on the forest floor, the chill of the early autumn air, the sound of the wind through the trees.

Welcome to the world, child.

Startled by the voice in his mind that was not his own, he staggered back, looking around.

The voice gave a soft laugh. You can search for me, but it will prove difficult, as I am housed within your being. You are my puppet. So lend me your trust, I will guide you to victory in every battle you face, and at the end of it all, you, my hand of Death, will stand at my side and together we will rule over the darkness of a new era.

His understanding of the words spoken by the voice was vague at best. Still, it was his only companion, something to turn to for guidance, and he accepted its presence without a second thought.

He moved forward slowly, muscles tensing and sliding beneath alabaster skin as he took hesitant, shaky steps.

You have never moved before, the voice explained, with a hint of understanding patience. You will find it difficult at first, but I will assist you in becoming stronger. Now, we need sustenance. There is a human settlement close. I will lead you there, and then, we hunt.

Hunger. Drained and in need of energy. He associated the feeling with the hunt the voice spoke of.

Yes, child, we will hunt, we will feed from the life force of those you kill.

And so, he entrusted his entire being to this entity within him as a newborn child entrusts itself completely, without reservation, to its parent. After all, he was lost, discarded and awakening to a world where before in his perception there had been only the blackness of dreamless oblivion.

Observing him from within, Lucifurius knew the boy would become the perfect puppet to his will. He was as good as a blank slate, ready to be written with whatever plans Lucifurius made for him. And he had willingly accepted Lucifurius's guidance, something that could never be expected from a human host. Humans had to be lied to. Manipulated. Frightened. Led astray. Driven mad.

Humans had to be broken first.

This one did not, however. He was a well-behaved puppet, obedient.

Perfect, in every sense of the word.

The boy continued on until his exhaustion would allow him to go no further. The urge to struggle back to his feet and continue on was strong, but Lucifurius repressed it.

You have gone far enough today. You are not ready for a hunt in any case, not when you can barely walk, child.

He huddled under a rocky outcropping as storm clouds rolled in, too exhausted to sleep.

You will grow strong in time. Our hunts will strengthen you, I will lend some of my power to you in the meantime to keep you alive. We usher the world into darkness together now, child.

The words were starting to have more meaning, but he still found he understood little of what the voice said to him. Still, it was comforting to hear it speak, a reassurance that he was not alone. Discarded and abandoned, but not alone. He had a path to follow, therefore he was not lost.

A satisfactory realization.

And so it began, the puppet with a path to follow, and the puppet master, leading him to become the herald of a new age.

And nothing shall stand in our way...

We shall have all the world at our feet!

Death! Death to them all!