Nations of Rothel:

Incantarin: The nation of Anu, Savior of Invention. His Mark grants the ability to infuse materials with near-magical Concepts; certain materials and people have greater affinities for particular Concepts than others. All potential additional conduits are related to this ability in some manner. The people of Incantarin take great pride in their innovative nature.

...But where to go?

I had gotten turned around in the excitement, not that I had ever been particularly good at pinpointing life source locations in my range anyway. Passable, maybe, but no more than that.

I’d have asked the nearby Risen to lead me to the body, but they were more automatons than anything else; what I didn’t know, they didn’t know. They were empty.

My carefully gathered composure cracked slightly. In my mind’s eye, I could feel my power’s nearly 15 mile radius. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack; the body could be anywhere.

Still, though they could not simply lead me to the body, that did not mean that the Risen were entirely useless. What they lacked in intelligence, they made up for in numbers. What they lacked in initiative, they made up for in numbers. And what they lacked in ability, they made up for in - surprise, surprise - numbers.

There were a lot of them.

Unfortunately, their level of usefulness varied. The vastly overwhelming majority of them were not particularly helpful in this situation due to size; their ability to cover ground quickly, let alone drag a corpse, was severely hampered. Primarily, these were a variety of insects and insect-like creatures that had likely been buried in shallow graves of earth. On the other hand, a few of the Risen insect species were significantly larger than I could recall ever seeing.

It was rather disturbing, actually. Not to mention, it brought up uncomfortable questions when paired with the Aryx’s deviations in physique. I was sorely hoping not to find that some already-massive predator had received a similar upgrade in size during my absence. I had no wish to become the world’s most durable chew toy.

Another limitation to their effectiveness was their general condition. The method in which they were raised appeared to be far from optimal. As the gathered Risen spread further away from my original location, they were in progressively worse condition. My best guess was some sort of leakage occurred when the bursts of life had propagated through the air. Whatever the reason, whether that be inherent to the ability or something else, its range of effectiveness was absolutely dwarfed by the kill range of even the currently-reduced levels of my original power, to the point of being completely insignificant. In addition, it was most likely that the health - though I was almost reluctant to use that term, considering the abysmal condition of some that I could see - of the Risen deteriorated dependent on distance at the time they were raised, rather than the actual condition of the corpses themselves. Which was good to know, considering my future plans and hopes. I would have to be more focused with upcoming efforts.

Despite their limitations and restricted intelligence, I wasn’t going to throw away the help that I could get. I tugged on the connections between us, trying to convey that the area should be searched and any corpses found returned to me. I would have to see how well they carried out the command and likely adjust from there.

As the gathered Risen began to scamper, skitter, and scurry away, I took a seat and tried to find a comfortable position. Closing my main body’s lids, I bid welcome to the darkness that draped over half of my vision. With a slow inhale and a smooth exhale, I shunted the vast majority of my mind’s attention into the Aryx.

Faltering leaps shifted into confident bounds as the background blurred by. It was a slow transition, stifled further by the difficulty of the terrain itself. Rubble and ruins dotted the landscape, toppled and torn by age and neglect. The formerly towering structures had shifted their grasp; no longer did they reach for the sky, but instead twisted to clutch at the earth. They lay shattered and crumbled, defeated. The ravaged road was strewn with stone and debris, forcing me to climb and clamber over obstacles more often than not to make my way. Probing roots split through the cracks, while moss and lichen made a valiant effort to swallow the available surfaces.

Even greater amounts of time were spent searching the buildings themselves, if they could still be referred to as such; even the presence of my Aryx body felt distinctly wrong, as if I was encroaching on the ruins of a lost time. That, I was sure, was more than a feeling. It had been a long time since humanity had made its home here. Dust and death was all that remained. And me, I supposed.

Despite the destruction that surrounded me, there was a sense of familiarity to it all - to the lingering scent of the sea that pressed against my tongue, to the moldering monoliths, to the vacant streets. It felt like home. It felt like Ancelas.

Hours passed, the search interrupted only by the intermittent arrival of corpses within the clasp of my commanded Risen. As expected, it was a sluggish process, hindered by their lack of size and insight. Not to mention, they failed to bring the only corpse that I actually sought. Regardless, I took the opportunity to reinforce their numbers, piling upon the largest advantage that they held. It did serve to confirm one suspicion, at least - each of the corpses raised with a direct touch were reborn as immaculate examples of their kind. The new arrivals were sent out to aid the rest in their search, while I worked to ignore the increased weakness of my body that coincided with their rebirth. Though I was unconcerned with the implications due to the manner in which my body could reset itself upon death, I had to wonder how it was normally handled; I was far from the only one gifted with this ability, I was sure.

As the sun began to kiss the horizon, I received an answer. The answer was formed not with words, but with the deafening clamor of dislodged debris. Disturbed by the passage of so many bodies, a section of rubble collapsed upon itself. It smashed downwards with thunderous force, crashing into a spider-like Risen that had been wending its way through the area in an avalanche of unyielding stone. The unfortunate creature’s body was pulped by the overwhelming force, dark ichor squelching out from the cracks that remained.

In my mind’s eye, the connection to that particular Risen began to flare, the donated life surging back through the bond. Just before it had returned in its entirety, the bond snapped free. I felt a minor influx of wellness as life returned to me, though I could tell that a small portion of life that had been used in its creation had been lost to me forever.

I nodded, managing to keep the reaction solely confined to my human self. I had already donated life force that was far in excess to the amount available to a single human to my Risen, so it would have made little sense for there to be no way to recoup much of the cost; if not, the ability would have been near-useless in most hands. It functioned mostly as a way to create somewhat expendable undead creatures, albeit with a small permanent loss of the creator’s personal longevity, in return for temporary weakness of one’s self for the extent of its duration.

Curiosity resolved, I continued my search. Though I had resolved to keep my main body relatively still just in case, I began making small movements while keeping my attention largely focused on piloting the Aryx. The distinction between the two in my mind had grown more pronounced over the day, allowing me to multitask more effectively - something that would only become more important over time.

As I moved further from the inhibitory presence of former civilization, nature had made clear its claim. Cracked stone had begun to give way entirely, welcoming rich soil in the wake of its defeat. Greenery sprung forth, the sounds of surrounding wildlife becoming greater in intensity as it did so.

Unfortunately, nature’s demesne presented its own complications in the search.

The fading sun coupled with the heavy canopy resulted in an eerie light, spawning shadows that spilled between the towering trees like littered refuse. They reached out with questing tendrils, grasping and grabbing, blanketing the ground in their dark embrace. A part of me balked at the sight; the search would be far more difficult, I knew, without the sun’s aid. It whispered to me, sowing doubt. I shut my ears to its cries. There was no rush, in truth, but I could not afford to accept that. I could not afford to be willing to wait - not when it came to fixing my mistakes. Not when it came to saving a life.

I had a lot to make up for.

I knew that. More than anyone else, I knew that.

How could I not? I carried my mistakes with me. They weighed down on me just as they sustained my very life. Enemies, strangers, colleagues, friends, family. Guilty. Innocent. In the end, they all became the same: weights on the scales of life that tipped me ever towards irredeemability. I knew that I could never tip those scales back in the right direction. In many ways, one bad deed could overcome one hundred good - with my history, I certainly wouldn’t be absolved of my sins with any number of acts of good. Still, I needed this.

It wouldn’t change the past.

It wouldn’t bring them back.

It wouldn’t bring her back.

But it was something, and that mattered more than I could express. I needed a tangible sign that things were different. I needed to know that things could work out. Just this once.

I needed a reason to go on.

One bad deed could manage to overcome one hundred good - but a single good deed was worth striving for, despite that. I wasn’t after redemption. It was too late for that. But, just maybe, it wouldn’t be too late for this one person. For this one good deed.

Please don’t be too late.

I ran.

I searched.

I hunted.

My fears hounded me, snapping at my heels, driving me ever onwards. Fallen branches became outstretched arms under the dim moonlight, broken fingers forever reaching for succor. Each glimpse spawned a moment of triumph; each triumph a false hope. Threads of despair looped their way around my chest, squeezing my lungs with every pull. Had I the need to breathe, I might have been left broken and gasping. Had I the capacity to think, I might have chosen to abandon hope.

I had neither of these, and so I ran.

I searched.

I hunted.

And finally, as the moon began to cede its reign, I found him.

Just as the branches, he lay with outstretched arm, fingers reaching for salvation. He was a gnarled, twisted thing, drained dry as those same broken limbs; robbed of life, his flesh turned sallow, his eyes sunk hollow. That, if nothing else, confirmed my culpability.

Curiously, a saddled beast had joined him in death; for that, I could not claim fault. It spilled to the side, trapping one of the man’s legs beneath its considerable mass, as if they had suffered a simultaneous demise.

While I took a closer look, I tasked a number of my Risen to converge at my location, having no way to free him - particularly without the use of hands or opposable thumbs. As guilty as I was, I would rather drag his body through the forest than risk the consequences of traveling there with my main body; for all I knew, it could be the work of a single step to commit an unthinkable atrocity. No, it was best to tread carefully. I was sure he would understand.

A glimpse of the man’s shoulder provided an explanation for the beast’s death: he was Marked with a nearly identical symbol to that which adorned my main body. The beast was likely Risen, unable to persist in the face of its master’s demise. I questioned why my own Risen had not suffered a similar fate in my initial flurry of resurrections, but could only guess that the next life reasserted itself before they were affected.

Question resolved, distraction lost. I wasn’t sure if I would chalk that up as a win or a loss; divested of my diversion, I could only wait. Wait wait wait wait wait wait w- a leaf crackled, cutting through the buzz of my growing anxiety.

I tried to smile. My Risen had finally arrived.

With teeth and claw, with pincer and maw, the beast was shifted to free its captured rider. Desiccated as he was, it was relatively simple work to transport him to the ruins with the aid of my Risen. I tried not to think about the reason why. It didn’t work. I shifted most of my focus back to my main body, tearing my eyes away from the withered husk. From my newest mistake.

I waited as the Risen approached with their precious cargo, heart thundering in my ears. My blood boiled, writhing at the touch of the poisonous dread that had seeped its way into my veins.

This was the first, I knew. The first good deed. Proof that things could change. Proof that things would change.

The First was set before me. In the state I was in, I couldn’t turn my eyes. I couldn’t look away - and so I took it all in. His skin was like ancient parchment wrapped about an emaciated, skeletal frame; it was weathered in a way that spoke of age, of hardship, of difficulty. In reality, it only spoke of me. It spoke of the way I tore the life from his flesh, of the way I ripped the strength from his body. It spoke of the way I subsumed his very existence.

I hated it.

My hand trembled as my arm stretched forth. My breath caught. My mind buzzed.

Flesh met flesh.

I spoke a single word.

“Arise.”

My Mark flared. Life spilled into the waiting vessel. My body twisted and dried even as the corpse before me was born anew. Chalky skin took on an olive sheen; emaciated flesh became hardened muscle.

Smiling, I fell to dust - repeatedly, curiously enough, the effort having required far more life than should be contained in a regular human. When my life finally stabilized, he stood there. Waiting.

“Wel-,” I coughed, fighting past the lump in my throat and the smile that couldn’t help but break free. “Welcome back.”

He stood there. Waiting - as the sun began to rise, greeting the new day.

“I know you’re probably confused by what’s going on. That’s okay.”

He stood there. Waiting - as streaks of light split the sky, suffusing the world with a brilliant glow, and an empty pool within me found itself filled once more.

“How do you feel?” My smile began to dim.

He stood there. Waiting - as the conduit upon my shoulder glowed lightly, its strength renewed with the radiance of dawn.

“Please - say something. Anything,” I choked out. I was begging now, I knew, but I couldn’t find it in myself to care.

He stood there. Waiting - as I felt something shatter deep within me. I reached out a hand anew. It was trembling again, but that was okay. I was going to fix him. I was going to help him. I was going to save him.

Flesh met flesh.

My Mark flared, mind warping as the power took hold. I watched with bated breath as awareness flickered at last in the man’s eyes.

A trail of tears tumbled their way down my cheeks at the sight.

“Are...are you alright?” I asked, my face splitting into a smile twice as wide as ever before.

“Of course,” I replied. “You saved me.”