Rhys stood in the silent, dead nest, the Queen's core warm in his hand. Their first major threat in the Unclaimed Territories had been eliminated.
He looked down at the massive pile of the Queen's bones. He had planned to raise it as a powerful new soldier for his Ashen Legion.
He knelt, placed his hand on the bones, and focused his will, reaching for his Ashen Sovereign bloodline.
"Arise," he commanded.
He felt the familiar drain on his lifespan. The thick, grey fog poured from his body, swirling around the pile of bones. He waited for the familiar silver glow, for the bones to begin knitting themselves back together under his command.
But nothing happened.
He felt a strange resistance. It was not a physical resistance. It was a conceptual one. It felt like he was trying to claim ownership of something that already belonged to someone else.
The grey fog swirled uselessly, unable to take hold of the bones.
