The fear that overtook the dead held for quite some time. Seizing their opportunity, the trio rallied and finished off the monsters of the tomb. The Unquiet Dead returned to their eternal rest, Blackthorne turned to help Sonja and Branwen with the looting.

The tomb was littered with the corpses of the fallen. Sonja bled from several light wounds, but she had acquitted herself quite well. Branwen stood near her for a moment then offered an exhausted smile toward to valkyrie. Sonja returned the smile. Blackthorne saw this little interaction and then also smiled in return. It had been a far more dangerous bit of tomb raiding than he had expected it to be. In the end they had pulled through; that was what mattered.

The dangerous sounding background music faded back into a soft, but creepy tone once more. The epic battle had officially ended at last.

Blackthorne went to check the glowing spheres left by the ghosts, “Let’s see what we can find.”

Sonja smiled at him then turned to look at the coffin on the dais. “I wonder if they buried that guy with anything good.”

“Let me grab this stuff and we can check,” said Blackthorne. “Wouldn’t want to set off another trap until we’re ready.”

The ghosts and zombies left behind a lot of trash loot. A few bits and pieces of armor were almost store quality, however. They would prove to be excellent synergy fodder.

He reached down to pick up one of the softly glowing spheres while expecting it to be some sort of crystal like the vita crystals that he acquired now and then, but what he found was far more interesting. His vision suddenly went black. Before he could allow himself to register his surprise, a new scene played out before him.

There were two men alone in a building that looked to be some sort of pawn shop or general store. A tall skinny man argued with a balding fat man over the price of a copper tea pot. Not long into the argument, the tall man pulled a dagger from his hip and stabbed the fat man several times. He robbed the store while the fat man bled to death.

Blackthorne shook his head to clear his mind of the invasive image. “This…” what had just happened? There was something familiar about the experience, but his memories remained disjointed even after he took a moment to consider the situation. The sphere suddenly burst apart and turned to dust while a soft green light invaded his skin.

In a peculiar quirk of the moment, some of his exhaustion faded. The emptiness inside seemed to fade slightly.

Another scene played out when he picked up the next glowing green sphere. This time a man leapt out of the darkness to bash a woman in the head with a leather sap. Blackthorne witnessed all the terrible things done to that woman, though the vision was mercifully brief. She too had died as a result of that sudden assault. “What is this?”

A message screen appeared before him, though it glitched several times. He read through what it had to say then he looked at the remaining spheres. “This life of mine just gets weirder by the day.”

The green spheres were the fragments of memory from lost souls who had met an unjust end. It could be said that they were a piece of such a soul. Apparently, spirits that manage to escape the abyss through magical summons or otherwise would sometimes attach themselves to soul fragments to increase their permanence in the world. Necromancers used such things to raise armies, should they find a reasonable source of souls to collect. The fragments were simply called, ‘Souls.’

“Using my abyssal powers require that I use the power of my soul, and that takes a lot of time to recharge” he whispered softly. “Claiming these lost souls, giving them a place to rest inside of me, will keep them from wandering and grant their memory peace.”

In a more direct manner, it would also boost his spiritual recharging speed. The more souls he claimed, the more often he would be able to use his more potent exceptional abilities, given the fact that they mostly involved the abyss in some way or another. His draconic transformations would even be affected due to the raw power of a soul, so it could be seen that the more souls that he might cause to dwell within himself, the faster he might increase his age category.

He studied the little sphere for a moment then proceeded to claim the others one at a time. These were lost souls in need of comfort. He could relate! He spent time with each one, did not rush the exchange of memories. The stories that played out in his mind were largely filled with hate or things of truly disgusting nature. As one would expect, none of the souls had met a happy end. Most died without even learning who had killed them until after the fact. That knowledge drove several of them mad and made them easy targets for black hearted necromancers or opportunistic abyssal escapees.

Sonja regarded him thoughtfully, but Branwen had lowered herself to her knees. Given their connection, she no doubt had some idea of what it was that he had just done. So, she had returned to worshipful supplicant mode once more.

He did not say anything about her mannerisms, they were something that he felt she would grow out of eventually should she remain in his presence. Instead, he joined up with Sonja and they went to check the coffin.

Blackthorne chose to receive the honor of opening it. When the lid fell away, they discovered nothing but dust, a small ornate box, and equipment so ancient and dilapidated that it would be worth less than the zombie’s armor and weapons. It did not even seem to be worthwhile as synergy fodder.

He ignored the dust and armor and opened the box. “A scroll?”

Curious, he unrolled it then immediately became excited. It related a message about a hidden secret in the graveyard! Of course, after he thought about it for a moment, he could not help but sigh.

“What does it say?” asked Sonja.

Branwen perked her head up. She was curious as well.

“It’s telling us about a hidden secret beneath the graveyard that those who seek the path of darkness might tread in order to become its champion,” replied Blackthorne. He showed it to her, and she read it as well.

“This could be good!” she grinned at him then acquired a greedy expression. “There seems to be a quest involved. We have to gather parts of powerful monsters and an ancient treasure in order to perform the ritual that will grant one of us the blessing of the goddess of darkness.”

“Yeah, notice that last bit?” he asked her.

“Ah?” she asked. Sonja looked to the end of the scroll then looked up at him. “The part about how the new champion of the dark will be granted a special ring to signify—”

He held up his hand to her. She could not help but notice the fanciful ring on his hand.

“Ah…” she said, her eyes widened.

“Yeah. Seems I was able to skip right to getting the blessing without the ritual,” he replied with a flat expression and an even flatter tone of voice.

He became a bit more curious in tone when he spoke again, however, “I wonder why this is still here. There had to be someone who came along to find this tomb and open that coffin.”

Sonja shrugged. “Maybe it’s loot that respawns when the trap resets? That’s pretty common.”

Blackthorne rubbed his ring for a moment then nodded. “I see, makes sense… Wait a moment!”

He turned and headed toward the entrance. Sonja called out to him from behind. “Master?”

“I just remembered something!” he called back. “Come outside, and we’ll take a break.”

Once they met up with him, he filled them in on what he intended to try to do. Now that he could use his midnight shadow form as often as he liked, there was a chance that he might be able to gather up his lost loot in the underground ceremony room where he gained his ring.

They set up camp nearby, and he morphed into his shadow form. Down into the earth below went the essence of darkness. It took quite some time, but he eventually found the chamber that he sought. Nothing happened that would seem to imply a trap, and the door was left open. Perhaps the hole had closed above, but the chamber was now empty and would not reset?

He flowed through the darkness and found the ceremony room. Most of his possessions were gone, but his first set of armor sat in a pile near the center of the room. He turned back into his human form and grabbed his armor. “Naughty! Don’t ever leave me again!”

His voice echoed oddly in the darkness. It was such an odd situation, that he could not help but investigate. Once more in the form of a shadow, he inspected the ground below and grinned. There was a lot of empty space below!

After a bit more investigation, he shot straight up into the ceiling above and slipped through the dirt. He could not wait to tell the others what he had found!