The golden power had infiltrated every place there should have been shadows in the main temple, turning the comfortably dim world into a solar flare of brightness, painful to mortal eyes. It was hard for the creatures of the night to see, and now that the mistress of this power was gone, the shadow's mercilessly wiped it from their home. Taking back its place beneath the tables, and in the corners. Slowly the Temple came back to its original state.
Ping and the Lord helped it along, each freeing and rejuvenating the spirits whom had fought against the gilded tide. Though he had the best of intentions, the Master's anger and worry made him a bit imposing even for his own subjects. More or less the gold that had prevented him from lending a helping hand.
Keric ran into the main halls, a look of worry and dread on his face as he skidded to a stop in front of his Master. The wolf held a leather bag around his neck, and a sadness in his eyes that made even Ping fear the worst. Ping stepped forward and tilted his head, ears laid back against his head, sadness in his eyes as well. "Did you…" He began to ask and Keric laid the leather satchel at the Master's feet.
With a slow steady breath, The Lord of Shadows picked up the leather bag. The warmth radiating from it sent chills through his body. "Keric…" The Lord began but the wolf looked away stubbornly, his tail down.
"My Lord, all do respect. I've done my job. Go upstairs and see for yourself." He replied before walking toward the shadows without casting a glance back at the Master or Ping. The fox was torn between wanting to follow his friend and go with the Master. Both seemed to need him now, but one more than the other. With a heavy heart and a long glance at the Master, Ping argued with his duty and his heart.
"Ping. Go." The Master replied before taking the bag and heading up the long winding staircase. He knew there were several things that could be in that bag. Yet, he had a uneasiness sitting on his chest like a weight restricting his breath. The sensation causing his hand to clench tighter on the leather straps.
He remembered opening the bag with his son's souls encased. Each one had been welcomed home to the shadows with tears of sadness for the sister left all alone. Knowing it was their destiny to die did nothing for his broken bleeding heart. "Sons…" He whispered as he opened the door into the study.
Four spirits took shape from the shadows at his side. Two from each side of him following him with concern, but hidden in the dark. The shapes slowly took the forms of tigers at his side. Each slightly bigger than the last till it reached the oldest of the four. He stepped forward and brushed his head against the Lord's hand before escorting him to his chair.
"Father, Is it?" The smallest asked, unable to hold his fear. The eldest closed his eyes, waiting for his father's answer.
"I don't know, I wish I did. I know something happened. I could hear her screams…" He trailed off and set the leather softly on the table. The four brothers looked at eachother and the smaller three nodded at the eldest. He closed his eyes and slowly, the shadow became more solid. A man of flesh and bone stood before the desk.
Stormy black eyes set into a pale face. White hair fell in long strands brushing the floor by his feet. Shadows in swirling shades of black forming a robe over his now tangible flesh. "Father?" He asked softly, the worry lines on his forehead causing the scar across his skull to wrinkle. The Master sighed and nodded.
"Keenan… go ahead." The Master replied looking down at the dark stone texture of the desk. Trying to focus on it while his eldest son opened the leather satchel.