"I feel… strange," Athar said, looking at his hands. He was still in the library, where he had just discovered his newfound powers.
"You will feel like that for a while. At least until you gain mastery over yourself," the Masked One replied. Athar rubbed his temples. "I feel like I've been run over by a merchant's fully loaded carriage. Does it always feel like this, or does it get better with time, my lord?" he asked.
I remember feeling like that, too. How long has it been since? his master thought.
"It will get better with time. After all, that was your first time having your consciousness separated from your body. It's only natural that you would feel backlash from it the first few times," he explained. Athar noted his master's composure, but decided not to say anything as he glanced around the room.
"These books, my lord," Athar began cautiously. "What about them?" his master asked. "There are so many of them, but I think I am beginning to see, or feel, I still don't know which, tendrils of mana coming from more than a few of them, my lord," Athar tried to stand, though his legs nearly gave way.
"I would much rather you figure out why they are like that on your own, for I have important matters to attend to. Right now, I cannot and will not give you all of the answers, as that would only stunt your growth as a mage," the Masked One said dismissively, but noticed Athar's dour expression.
"Besides, I prefer a more practical approach to learning mana manipulation. A little bit of challenge is good for your growth, and right now, you need to grow as quickly as you can," his master continued.
"So, you came to watch me struggle, my lord?" Athar half-scoffed. "In truth, I had rather hoped you wouldn't, but doing this for the first time with almost no oversight would have been a mistake on my part," the Masked One replied.
Awh, it almost sounded like he cared for a moment, Athar thought, immediately regretting it when his master turned to glare at him.
"Make sure you don't destroy anything. I won't even begin to tell you what I will do if you so much as crack a candelabra," he growled. Athar nodded, feeling a chill go down his spine again, and swallowed to clear his throat. When no sudden reprimand other than the chill came, Athar risked a grin behind the Masked One's back as he left the study.
He eventually reached the spawning chamber, where the countless nests and high shelves teemed with various newborn creatures. Above them was a high, transparent walkway suspended in the air by mana-infused crystals. A dark figure stood waiting for him, whose silhouette could only be described as grotesque and misshapen.
The Masked One's eyes glowed as he channeled mana towards his feet. He began to levitate up to the walkway and landed on it like a feather having fallen to the ground.
"I assume all goes well with the spawn," he said to the figure. "Indeed, my lord, it does," it replied in more of a gurgle than a normal voice; the sharp, protruding teeth making him difficult to understand. "Do you remember your first day here in the Between, Karak?" the Masked One asked.
Karak nodded and turned to face his lord. His dark, glossy eyes and grotesque features could barely be seen in the chamber's gloom. "I do, my lord. I remember first casting my eyes upon my new reality after being drawn out from my home in the Underworld," Karak began. "This world is much less dead than where I come from, with plenty of fresh bones to gnaw," the creature gurgled.
"Tell me, Karak, do you know why I have left you in charge of the ones who lie below us?" the Masked One asked as he began to walk along the translucent pathway. "No, my lord. I always assumed it's because you knew I could kill anything that tried to go against your wishes," Karak shrugged his sharp shoulders.
"While that is partially true, the reality of why I chose you is slightly different. It is because I know that if there is one I can trust within my small circle of allies, it is you," the mage replied. "I am honored to be called your ally and not your slave, my lord," the creature bowed, its figure distorting the darkness around it.
The mage nodded with a grunt and continued walking. "I'm sure you know this, but Athar has begun his mana manipulation training," he said. "I do, my lord, but what do you want me to do about it?" Karak asked expectantly. "Not at the moment, but I do want you to keep a closer eye on him than I can while I am away," the mage sighed.
"Do you worry that his heritage might sway his allegiance?" Karak asked. "I'm already certain that it will, at least to some extent. It is merely a matter of time before he tries to make his move," the Masked One grimaced beneath his mask.
"However, if the legends are to be believed and he becomes what I think he might, I must ask you to end him by whatever means necessary," he continued, getting a curious growl from Karak in response. "My lord, requiring the services of a daemon such as myself is both an honor and a privilege, but what of his plans?" the daemon asked.
"At this point, I can do little to stop them. All we have to do is follow his orders as best we can," the mage sighed. "A shame that not even one as powerful as you can break away from that, my lord. However, I am grateful that you've brought me here to escape whatever he has planned," Karak bowed, causing a long string of saliva to droop toward the floor.
The mage halted momentarily as if stunned by the daemon's words. "Go keep an eye on Athar. Report your findings back to me whenever he ends a training session. Is that understood?" he asked without turning to face the creature. "As you wish, my lord," Karak bowed again before leaving quickly.
The Masked One's eyes glowed again as he let himself down from the walkway.