“Dario, you’ve returned,” said Akhert as the young man entered his inner sanctum. “Have you come to a decision?”

“Not yet,” Dario said, staring at the skull on the shelf. He still hadn't gotten over how strange these conversations were. He felt silly staring at a lifeless skull, no matter how much he reminded himself that it wasn't actually lifeless. “I have a few questions first.”

“You need only ask.”

“Why did you choose me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not a fool,” said Dario. “I know now that the vision I had of this place and the people here was not from the Father, it was from you. You showed me the city of Duat. Then, when I was in danger, it was you who spoke to me in the woods. You gave me the power to slay angels, then abandoned me.”

“You rejected me. I will not stay where I am not welcome.”

“Regardless,” said Dario, rolling his eyes. “For some reason you’ve had your eye on me for a very long time. I want to know why. And don’t tell me it’s because I’m some great warrior. I’m great at what I do, but I know many a swordsman far better than I.”

“You are a great warrior, but this world has…shall we say an abundance of those? And the greatest of warriors often fall to the weakest. The strongest of men fall to the smallest of wounds.” Akhert said. “No, you are a worthy champion for an entirely different reason.”

“How easily I give in to temptation?” Dario asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“No. You know that because I am the Divi Filius that all the peoples of the world are my descendants, yes? Well, I have walked this world for all of Erets’ history, until the day Prince Ari slew me in battle. During that time I knew many women, a few as recently as mere days before I died. You are descended from one of those women. You are, for lack of a better term, a more recent descendant of mine. My blood flows through your veins stronger than it does in most people’s. The same can be said for your sister.”

“Cilicia? Then she is alive?” Dario asked, taking a step back.

“Oh yes. Cilicia is alive and well, though she is a prisoner even as we speak. She needs to be rescued.”

“Where is she?”

“The city of Nox.” Dario's jaw dropped at the sound of this news. “I know, right under your nose that whole time and you missed her. Now the city is under the control of the Inquisition, and your sister will most assuredly be declared a blasphemer. You know what the Inquisition does to blasphemers, don’t you?”

“No! Cilicia!” Dario pounded his fist on the wall. “They cannot do this! I’ll slaughter every last one of them before I let that happen!”

“You cannot do that on your own,” said Akhert. “You said it yourself, you are not the greatest warrior in the world. Even if you were, there’s no way you could fight that many on your own. You need an army. Otherwise she will die. You can try to rely on the Arxians or the justicars if you want, but none of them have the power needed to slay the legion of angels the Inquisition will summon. I have that power. You’ve seen it with your own eyes.”

Dario fell to his knees before the skull. “Give me the power to save her and I will do anything you ask of me!”

“Rise to your feet. You will not kneel before me. I am not your master, I am your friend. The closest friend you will ever have.”

Dario pushed himself back up to his feet. “Then help me rescue my sister from the stake!”

“Do you see the fountain of my blood?”

Dario turned and faced the bloody fount, upon which sat a still-beating heart. “I do.”

“Take one of the cups sitting beside it. Fill the cup with the blood and drink it. Once you do I will be a part of you and you will be a part of me. You will have the power you need, and in exchange I ask that you lead the army of Duat.”

“I will lead your army,” Dario said. He rushed over to the fountain, scooped up one of the cups, and caught some of the blood in it. As he looked down into the cup he was struck by the gravity of what he was about to do. He was about to drink the blood of a long-dead necromancer lord. Forever this necromancer lord would be a part of him. There was no turning back if he did this. Then again, if he did not do it Cilicia would almost certainly die, and there would be no turning back from that choice either.

He’d spent his whole adult life fighting for what was right, or what he was told was right anyway. Right or wrong? Justice or injustice? What did any of it matter if he could not be with and protect the people he loved? He understood now. Love was above such concepts as right and wrong, and with this act he dedicated himself to a new creed. Love would be his code from now on.

Dario tilted his head back and guzzled down the blood from the cup. At first he fought an urge to gag at the taste. It was like he'd taken a copper coin, one which had exchanged hands hundreds of times, and now he was sucking on that coin. But he remained strong in his resolve. He drank until there was not a drop left in the goblet.

“Now you need never fear death again,” said Akhert. “From this moment forward you are free of all judgment. All sins will be forgiven, all transgressions forgotten, so long as you are my friend. Even when your body passes on your spirit will live on as an Akh. Then, some day, I promise that you will have the power to make your own paradise.”

Dario felt warmth running through his body. It tingled, even tickled a little. Something felt so right about it.

“Now, speak with Emylas. He will show you where to find the sword I wielded in life. With my black blade you will slay your enemies and mine alike.”