Throughout the rest of the night, Thajure taught Nirdia how to conduct revival rituals. By early morning, he dismissed his students. Promising to allow Uron and Suri a day off, while Nirdia more knowledge.
Both students gladly agreed. Giving them a small nod for the exciting day to come.
Bright rays plastered across the skies in pinks and blues. Early morning was beginning its transition to its final hours. Mid-day came about. Four knocks on the door.
It was Nirdia. She was there for another lesson. Thajure calmly opened up the door for his student, allowing her inside. Nirdia yawned, stumbling onto a nearby chair.
"Good morning, Sherpa," her cold voice said.
"Good morning. Now, to not waste any time. The ritual has two uses. Not just revival," Thajure paced his steps across the room. "Can you guess what's the other?"
Nirda glanced at the corner of the room. "Does it have to do with their bodies?"
"It does. One revives, the other..?"
"Perhaps its the opposite? You can bring one back from the dead, or keeping them dead forever?" Nirdia answered.
Thajure stopped, he turned to look at her with a smile on his face. "Very good."
Nervousness crept into Nirdia's bones. She wondered why her Sherpa was teaching her these things. Only recently did they end their lessons on basic hums dedicated to the Nine.
But all of a sudden, he was teaching them rituals. Most rituals were geared towards more experienced Thawed, but for some reason, Thajure decided to break the unspoken rule.
"Remember when I said I wanted to challenge you?"
"Yes, Sherpa," Nirdia robotically replied.
Thajure crossed his arms. "Good. One thing you don't know about me is I hate hybrids. There is no reason why a Thawed would mate with a Zegus, Feral, or Thresher. Thawed belong with Thawed."
He turned to face the window. "Ferals must reproduce with Ferals. And Threshers with their own kind. Not Thresher and Zegus."
Passionate hate echoed in Nirdia's ears, causing her to feel a slight sense of panic. To please Thajure, she remained calm. Hoping his rant would remain what it is, a rant.
"So, my dear student. Do you believe the same?"
"Y - yes, Sherpa," Nirda said with a hint of fear.
Thajure caught onto it. In his mind, he found his foothold. All of his plans were reinforced by fear. Which pleased Demon, it was what he was searching for.
"Very good," Thajure continued. "A Zegus and a Thresher reproduce. The result is a Zesher. Proceed with the ritual normally until you start whispering the Fifth Rule's hum."
Nirdia looked around the room for a body to use. But there was nothing. Until Thajure ordered there to be.
On a nearby table, an exact replica of Jakery rested. Completely naked and pale. His skin was cold and mouth hung slightly open. Haze took meaning out of his eyes.
Inside Thajure's mind. Demon lamented playing a role in this war. He wanted to be put to rest if not completely converted. But he couldn't.
Young Jakery, or Shojoro, as he and Ether used to call him from time to time, was a Zesher born for caring. He only recently broke his mold. Going from innocence to unstable rage, waiting to burst.
A tool Demon had to exploit for his benefit.
Nirdia's heart began to beat faster than normal. She didn't see the Zesher when she came in. Despite passing that table with her eyes four times.
But fear kept her in check. Instead of questioning, she got up and walked over to the table that rested beside the wall.
"Where is the powder?" Her voice softly asked.
Thajure calmly walked up to her, then placed a bigger bag on the table. "A small difference you'll come to understand is the amount you'll need. To shut down a body forever, it needs to be covered completely."
-An hour later-
Nirdia's hand drifted across the Zesher's chest. It was done. She glanced up at Thajure, who was nodding in approval.
Her boots slid over the floor, creating distance between her and the body. By now, she was unsure of what to think. Was she supposed to be happy she passed a test?
Or perhaps confused because of all the sudden bodies? It was a question she did not know the answer to. As she processed her emotions for a clear conclusion, Thajure cleared his throat.
"You are a good student, Nirdia. I present you with a challenge and you met it headfirst. Congratulations. If anyone tried bringing that putrid creature back to life, it would fail."
"T - thank you, Sherpa," Nirdia replied, almost instinctively.
Everything felt surreal to her. But she could not understand why. In her mind, she began playing out events of what would happen when her parents returned from Digon.
She wanted to ask them if it was alright to know such things so early on. But her mind started telling her to keep it a secret. After all, she didn't want to get into trouble.
Yet she wanted to. Just in case it was alright. If it was, then she would be happy to have made her parents proud of her.
From across the room, Demon read her mind. He disconnected himself from Thajure, but allowed his puppet to continue operating like normal.
The transition from corrupted to normality was seemless. Not even Variants with the keenest of eyes could have told the difference.
Now back to his normal self, the young servant returned to his place above the statue. His back was arched, making him comfortable as he looked into his palm.
In there, he examined the Light Legion's efforts to put an end to this war. News came back to the Legion, of their defeat in Etek Dur and Digon.
Kas was aware of the losing battle. But he was determined to lead one push to end all others. Demon smirked, he knew what was coming.
Verick remained home since his previous attack. Spending hours with his sister. Telling her stories through their mental connection. He was aware his biggest challenge was almost there.
Vildix polished his chains with a small white towel. He rested outside his lonely home. Despite being a figure of immense power, he led a lonely life.
Only ever interacting with other Variants when Kas or Alise told him to. Without their command, he remained home. Silent and isolated.
Trijunn and his pack attended a ceremony formed by Alise. She called them over to nominate them as the leading pack inside the Legion by lack of competition.
[You spend a lot of your time inside your palm.]
Demon tilted his head up.
[To understand life, I need to look at it through different eyes.]
[I am aware. Every Variant killed results in the Eight Rule receiving their knowledge. Then it shares those experiences with us. Having you out there is our only means of viewing the world in real time.]
[But why?]
No response. The feeling of a secondary spirit in his body faded away. Notifying him it was okay to resume.
But now, there was no reason to. Demon kept his eyes on the sky above. Clouds loomed overhead, preparing for rain. To him, it represented something more than just mere rain.
His cold heart began to beat once again. That rain represented the next stage of his plan. Bringing Imbushko closer to its grand finale.
[Little, little pawns. I sit and ponder, questioning morality and cause. Am I the hidden villain? Or am I the drowned out savior?]