A thousand torches burned within the night hall where I reigned. Their light danced upon the black marble, upon the faces of my servants, upon the bodies of dancers clad in crimson silk that curled like blood upon the edge of a blade. This realm was my creation, my pride, my plaything. The people and the nobles bowed, for they knew I was more than a ruler. I was darkness given form.
Goblets were raised, laughter mingled with cries of pleasure and power. Everything belonged to me – their souls, their bodies, their dreams. I was the flame that warmed them and the fire that consumed them.
And yet, I felt a chill. A flicker of distrust in the eyes of my warlord. Whispers too quiet between my priestesses. Their lips still smiled, but the fire was gone.
I laughed at it. For who would dare lift a dagger against me?
---
The night was at its height when it came. The music fell silent. Behind me, steel hissed free of its sheath. I turned to see my most loyal ones – men I had raised from the dust, women I had lifted from chains to priestesses of my cult.
Their eyes burned. Not with passion. With hate.
"My lord," said my warlord, his voice trembling, "you have ruled too long. The realm drowns in blood and sin… and we have decided to end you."
I laughed, a deep, thunderous laugh. "Show me your backs after all I have given you? Kingdoms, women, eternal glory? Fools."
Daggers flashed. Swords rose. And when the first blade found my heart, my cry echoed through the throne hall – not pain, but fury.
Blood spilled down my lips, yet I smiled. "You think death will stop me? I am darkness itself. I am the root of sin. I am the beginning… and I shall be the end."
---
In the last second, as my body sank into a pool of my own blood, I unleashed all the power I had gathered for centuries. Black runes flared upon the walls, the torches died, and the entire hall fell silent.
My soul tore free from flesh, burned by the strength of an ancient ritual. It ripped through the veils of the world, shattered the chains of life and death. And then… silence. Darkness. And crying.
---
I opened my eyes.
I was no longer a ruler upon an obsidian throne. No longer surrounded by servants and daggers. I lay in a cradle, wrapped in coarse cloth. Above me was the face of a woman – ordinary, mortal – who smiled at me with love.
And I felt a small, weak heart beating in my chest.
But within it burned a spark. My spark.
"They betrayed me," whispered my inner voice, while from the lips of the child came only wailing.
"But I will return. And this time… I will enslave them all, from the cradle to the grave."