The old necromancer watched his new apprentice sleep as he allowed his thoughts to wander. He had not intended to take an apprentice on his trip to the Orerain empire, in fact before he observed the boy he had dismissed the idea of taking an apprentice as an unnecessary liability to his meticulously crafted plan, especially now that the end was close in sight that Hark could practically taste the victory on his tongue. For the past fifty years, Hark had worked towards his goal, it was almost laughably simple for one of Hark’s power, He sought not the power of the divine nor to advance into an arch-master, he had spent the last half a century growing his power and influence for one of the basest desires a creature could have, Revenge. Hark’s face grew dark as he recollected the events that had led him down this path. Back long ago when Lucius Ferrocor the then prince now emperor of Orera had killed his wife and unborn child. He had taken great precautions to keep his family safe from the watchful eye of the inquisition, Yet there was one thing he had not planned for, betrayal. Even to this day the thought of the man Hark once considered his closest friend selling him out to those zealots wracked his soul with anguish. For the pain they had inflicted on Hark death would not be enough, he would tear down everything they had built, everything they loved would fall before Hark’s plan, then and only then would he deliver the killing blow. Everything he had done was in pursuit of this goal, all of the cults and terrorist cells he had nurtured, the subtle manipulations of nobles and other influential people, his dangerous research into the blackest of magics, all for the purpose of revenge. He was not sadistic by nature, but still the thought of the shock on Emperor Lucius and Archbishop Agosti’s faces when it was revealed a man they thought dead was responsible for the collapse of their empire, filled him with immense satisfaction. Five more years until this wicked place was nothing more than a smoldering warzone, five more long years until he had his revenge, but if Hark was anything it was patience, he couldn't let his eagerness interfere with his scheme. It helped soothe his rashness that he had found something else worthy of his time, molding Payten into the master of the arcane he knew he would become. He was growing fond of the boy, his intellect and curiosity reminded Hark of a young version of himself, He was glad he followed his benefactor’s tip that there was something worth his time in that backwater town. Still, he couldn't help but be troubled at the implications that surrounded the boy. Not only did his shadowy benefactor know of the boy’s existence but Hark’s soul scan had revealed several anomalies present in the boy. He was excited to piece together the enigma that was Payten, nevertheless, he had to get the boy somewhere safe before he could begin his investigation in earnest. Hark’s thoughts once again drifted towards revenge, He couldn't help but smile at the irony, they had labeled him a monster and so a monster he became.