Any sort of attachment towards a vessel had once been a laughable thought. Those frail bodies with blink of a life span would never mean more than a fresh outfit for the powerful. But all it had taken was one misstep along the way for him to end up dependent on those frail shells for survival, damning himself to play those foolish little power games weak humans indulged in – trying to claw his way through ages, in a changing world, watching as the mighty cities he built fall to ruins.
He had found a fleeting sense of stability in the decaying shell of that old emperor. It did not hurt that he found his old taste for power stroked again. Yet, he had allowed his soul to be stringent for too long, he had grown attached to the shell. That only made the separation harder, more painful and requiring more energy than he would have anticipated.
Yet nothing was impossible. Nothing was forever.
