"Crow, It’s impossible. This friend of yours can’t ever co back. None of the bodies I built were able to remain for long before they degenerated after infusing his soul."
This was from the past, a mory that the figure barely rembered. In it, there were two dwarfs of different age brackets, but from the tone of the older dwarf, it can be seen what their relationship was like.
With the younger dwarf nad Crow being superior to the older one, their conversation carried on. "This won’t do, I made a promise, he needs to live." Spoke Crow, finding the rotting corpse in the tank a bit pitiful.
"I don’t think the problem is with my thods, if anything, I believe it’s the soul that is the problem. Or the will of the totem refusing to let soone else borrow its power." The blood that was used in creating the clones belonged to a Knight family. And for so odd reason, the blood and soul keep refusing to bond with each other.
Which was odd, because the soul and blood once belonged to the sa body. "The soul is weaker, it’s faint, if not for your infusion of mories from ti to ti, it would have turned to dust for a long, it’s better to just let go." The old one suggested again.
"I can’t... such talent shouldn’t be wasted, even if the one holding the talent wishes to waste it." The younger one by the na of Crow spoke, before looking at the old dwarf. "Bring the special boy, his body is pretty clean being from the other side of the veil and all... implanting this bloodline won’t be much of an issue with how pure he is."
"Implanting won’t work... it might just kill that boy instead. This is not mortal biology we are speaking about, will of totems are to be taken into account."
"What will, this is a branch bloodline, the influence of the totem is weaker on them already and I never said that the boy alone will control this bloodline..." It was at this point that Crow started to look at the rotten floating corpse again. "If he doesn’t want to co back to life, no worries. He can refuse if he wants, but he won’t be able to refuse if I were to use him as a tool."
*****
"I wished for death, the misery in this life is too much for ." Spoke the figure, whose body materialized and turned to that of a young boy, much younger than Rosso. "Life is full of tragedy, full of sad mories... It’s why I wished for revival, why I joined that wonderful cult." In the eyes of the boy, the cult of Blue Lotus was his true ho.
A perfect way to revive in the way he wanted, as long as he fulfilled his job.
He did this, but Jester was greedy for talent. He wanted such talent for himself, and when the boy kept refusing by rejecting all the bodies he was forced into, Jester turned him into sothing that the boy didn’t understand and implanted it in an even younger boy, who, with ti, grew up on his own.
Currently appearing like a young adult in his spirit form, and looking at the tool that had allowed him to use such a strong bloodline as well as curse energy so easily.
"I was nad the proxy of your power, my na is Soros Bloodheart. The last surviving mber of the Bloodheart family, as well as the branch family of the Cynark Royals."
The story was fascinating. "My creator has a lazy naming sense," Rosso complained after hearing as well as seeing so of Soros’s mories on his own. Which also made him sowhat understand how he could use power from entirely two different systems without an issue.
There were two souls in him, with the curse energy being handled by this figure who stood in front of him, while the bloodline aspect was handed to him as it focused on his body. "You allowed to use your powers?" Rosso asked, wondering why soone who was so adamant about dying chose to accept Rosso without an issue.
And Soros remained silent about it for a while, thinking over how to explain, before he said. "The first thing that your creator connected to was your mories... I was envious of your world, I wondered if I could be lucky to enjoy it or not. I wished to see such world on my own... in this life." There was so life in this dead boy’s voice when he spoke such words.
That also turned Rosso a bit curious, there were only parts of his mories he could recall, and from what he understood from his Creator, before he went through the procedure, he was rely 14 years of age, and when ignoring so of the ti when he was being trained before being released into the world. Rosso’s current real age was no more than 20.
So how was he before he t Jester?
"Envious of my world?... Are you to say, I am not of this world?" Rosso asked with so curiosity and Soros nodded. "Yes, you ca from the other side of the veil, the world where only mortals live. A world where even gods fall to beco simple mortals. Such world... your creator treated your mories as an amusent park, bringing on rides that I never imagined were possible, letting watch movies you call them, shows, animated ones... so wonderful, that life." Envy was written all over Soros’s face.
Envy led by thirst for a world he can never enjoy. "I agreed to let you borrow my strength in hopes that one day, you will try returning to that world, and I want to be with you once you do."
With these words, so scenes appeared around Rosso again that rekindled part of his mory again, making him recall who he used to be, the kind of life he led, and the kind of people he used to be friends with. And then there was his mother... "My mother, her face is," he spoke and paused, as no matter how hard Rosso tried, the face of his mother never materialized.
Causing him great pain.
"It hurts..." Which made Rosso fall to his feet, his whole body shimred with bright light as it tried to suppress the pain, but not until Soros put his hand on Rosso’s shoulder did he calm down.
"Guess we are at a limit... the injury over your head should be healed by now. And although the body is under the protection of the Curse of Isolation, the mont you wake up, the curse will falter, exposing your location, so be ready in case there is soone stronger in the waiting.’ Soros spoke, as his body started to fade away.
But Rosso didn’t have his answers yet, he looked at the fading figure, ignoring the pain, and asked. "Tell ... how did my mother look, who... Who am I? What is my real na?’
Though no answer ca from the fading figure. All Rosso felt was his whole body turning light as he found himself back to reality.
Not much ti had gone by, only around a few minutes, though the scene in front of him had changed a lot.
There were Knights dead and a new figure that had appeared among the Knights at a certain point.
And this figure turned her head toward Rosso the mont he woke up, while her sword lit up with white flas aid at Rosso’s throat.
Boom was the sound, as Rosso backed out, invisible for the majority of beings, but lit up like a firefly in Remira’s. But that’s not the worst part. The heat from the blade had cut apart the armored woven of cursed energy, opening a slip back to reality, letting so of the Knights that hadn’t backed off as of yet see Rosso’s figure again.
"Your face... I know now. The slave that Sheva and that dwarf saved all those years ago." Remira on the other hand was more than just surprised. She was regretful at this mont. The current face that Rosso carried was one that she had seen half a decade ago when she initially made her escape from Yethel along with Farhad and Number Two.
Although the exchange she had with Sheva didn’t end on a good note, she can ascertain one point, there was the face of his boy as well as a sweet girl among the people that Sheva had saved that day. ’
"You... you know ?" Rosso knew this woman, Remira of the Radiant Knights, in his creator’s words, this woman was one annoying roach that was chosen by the First Knight and carried imnse power.
The power that the old him can never hope to match. But this is not the old him. Rosso’s eyes turned into slits. "Doesn’t matter." the small cut in the void healed and Rosso disappeared from the eyes of others once again, with the exception of Remira that is.
But it was not because he was running away. It’s just that he wasn’t holding back anymore. Opening his arms wide, he grew a mosquito proboscis made out of blood like a small sword growing out of his arms, while his back grew thing cicada wings, that increased his speed in the air, turning him into a blur as his movents broke the sound barrier and then pursued Sheva.
"Why attack ?" Were the thoughts in his mind at this point?
The Knights of Deception had lost the battle and fighting Remira would be nothing more than straight-up suicide. So the second target in his mind shifted to none other than Sheva who betrayed him suddenly.
"Where are you going?" And Remira was not one to lose sight of Rosso so easily, her speed picked up, turning into a flaming cot in the sky.
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