//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 (updated) // Story: The God of Death // by TenebrisScholar //------------------------------// It was two weeks after his visit with Princess Platinum. Apparently his display with the sun and moon caused more of a ruckus than he intended. At one point Star Swirl came by his castle to drag him back to the Unicorn Capital. Then he had to explain to Commander Hurricane of the Pegasi and Chancellor Puddinghead of the Earth Ponies exactly what happened with the sun and moon. He also took that as an opportunity to inform them of his plans and set up a meeting to discuss the distribution of the food he could produce. That meeting was going to be happening soon. In the meantime, he continued as he had been. Only now Star Swirl and Clover often came to assist him in studying the captured Windigo. Thus progress on that front was going far faster. Once again, he was in his lab at night. At the moment he was experimenting on Gwyndolin’s soul and the Dark Soul. Trying to see how they would react with each other. And as it would turn out, Gwyndolin’s soul and the Dark Soul did indeed react very poorly with each other. With a crystal dip pen he wrote in a notebook,  Subject “Abyss” Journal #9658 Log #10 The reaction between Gwyndolin’s soul and the Dark Soul was far worse than I had feared. Upon introducing Gwyndolin’s soul to the Dark Soul, it immediately proceeded to start attempting to suppress it as human souls suppress our humanity. Thus simulating the curse of undeath. However, it would appear that the Dark Soul is alive, for lack of a better term. It possesses a will all its own. I will count this as a confirmation of hypotheses from previous experiments. Or at least strong evidence to support said hypotheses. Upon being suppressed, it began going wild and lashing out. Like an animal struggling against its chains. Powerful waves of abyssal power emanated from it, that were difficult for even myself to stand against. It nearly killed me. Present theory: It has a will of its own but no intellect. It operates purely on primal animal instinct. The way it reacted seemed to reflect this. Lashing out to defend itself like a wild animal feeling threatened with no real thought or skill. Just raw power. Perhaps it is some remaining fragment of Manus’ shattered will or consciousness within the core of the Dark Soul. The Father of the Abyss was quite animalistic in his mannerisms when I was forced to slay him in Oolacile. Unfortunately I have no way to safely test this. Thus it remains pure speculation for now. Regardless, I had to separate the souls quickly to stop the Dark Soul from destroying Gwyndolin’s soul and quite possibly my entire castle. Then I had to lull the Dark Soul back into a calm state with various hexes and offerings of humanity. As I was doing so it almost seemed on the verge of shattering. As if it wanted to break into four separate pieces. I managed to stop that from occurring, but it was quite a curious phenomenon. However, had I not acted as quickly as I did, I fear my castle would have become the epicenter of another disaster on the scale of Oolacile. I’m not sure I could have kept my adopted daughters alive through it. Or untainted, if nothing else. I went to check on them immediately after calming the Dark Soul. They are both unharmed and miraculously are both still fast asleep. It seems that I was able to keep the power contained mostly to the bottom floor of my lab. Still it is far too dangerous to conduct any further experiments upon the Dark Soul within my castle where Celestia and Luna could be injured or worse should another such disaster happen. I shall have to postpone any further potentially dangerous experimentation upon it until I can find a separate location to make another laboratory. Unfortunately this leaves me with a very serious issue. In the — hopefully unlikely — event that I lose myself and go hollow, I cannot leave any of the Lord Souls unaccounted for or without a guardian. Yet I cannot let either of my adoptive daughters inherit the Dark Soul. I shan’t risk them becoming undead or some twisted abyssal monstrosity like what became of Manus and the inhabitants of Oolacile. Thus I am left with no recourse. I need another potential heir. One devoid of a soul of fire that could interact poorly with the Dark Soul. I require a being with a soul of pure darkness. Pure humanity devoid of even so much as a single minute spark of the First Fire. Else the Dark Soul shall have to remain with me, should I go hollow. An obviously unacceptable outcome. Not even a single Lord Soul can be allowed to remain in the hands of a hollow. This leads to a second issue. An imbalance in the division of the Lord Souls. Three heirs but four souls. That leaves one spare. I don’t wish to allow one more power than the others. So I shall need to create a fourth potential heir. As this is simply a precaution in the event I go hollow to begin with, the fourth shall be the bane to stop me in my rampant state should the others fail to do so for whatever reason. The most dangerous being I can possibly create, the ultimate weapon against myself. So that even should I kill one or two of my children in my insanity and subsequently consume their Lord Souls — something I shudder to even consider for my love of my children and the dread of what I may do with such power as a hollow — there will still be a chance to stop me. To slay me and force me into a prison of my own design where I shan’t be able to harm anyone else, before the curse inevitably forces me back into my thrice damned unlife. I already have an excellent idea of how to make just such a being. Admittedly, I’m loath to part with the materials I shall need but I suppose it’s for the best. I shall have to tread cautiously, however. Such a being cannot be allowed to become selfish, arrogant, or otherwise evil in any capacity. Lest the world suffer for it. I shall have to do everything within my power to instill discipline and virtue into this being. More so than even in my other children. Furtive Pygmy, thou who art the Father of Humanity and Creator of the Abyss, though I may have slain thy maddened form and have the core of thy Soul of Darkness, I pray to thee now. I pray that I may be the father I must be. That I might guide all of my children to become truly virtuous beings. That I may teach them the virtues they must know. And above all, I pray that all of my efforts go to waste at the end of all things. That all my preparations and precautions matter not as I return to our world and put an end to the curse placed upon us, thy beloved sons and daughters, by thy great enemy Gwyn, Bearer of the Soul of Light. To never hurt my beloved children by forcing them to witness my slow descent into madness and thus force them to do what must be done to ensure I cause no harm as a hollow. Bestow upon me the strength and wisdom I shall need to carry out these tasks oh great Progenitor of Man. Be with me in the darkness and offer me thy guidance until it is finally time to welcome me forever more into the embrace of the Abyss for my far too long delayed eternal rest. Non timeo noctem. Ego enim sum filius Manus, patris noctis. Thus concludes this log. Alric set his dip pen back in the inkwell and waited for the ink on the page to dry before shutting the book. He took a deep breath and slowly released it. It wasn’t often he prayed to the Furtive Pygmy. Yet who else could he pray to when his goal was to end Gwyn’s curse and allow the Age of Fire to come to its natural end? He looked over at the Dark Soul. “I hope you heard my prayer, Father of Man…” Perhaps it was a trick of his eyes or his imagination, but the Dark Soul almost seemed to pulse in response. As if it were answering him. He considered it for a moment and gave it a smile. Perhaps it was his imagination or perhaps not. Regardless, he felt some amount of comfort from it whether it was real or imagined. Stretching a bit, he stood up. Which child would he make first? The child of the dark? Or the weapon who would be his personal Sword of Damocles, ready to fall upon him should he ever falter? He considered it for a moment. Then he decided to start with the one born of the dark. Why not? Walking over to the Dark Soul, he took out several humanity sprites and set them on the table. Just enough that he could mold them together to make a soul as powerful as Celestia and Luna’s were currently. He would have all of his children progress to godhood together as evenly as he could. Then he took out Manus’ Catalyst, which he also took from the Father of the Abyss’ corpse. It was ridiculously large when he acquired it, but he managed to figure out a method to shrink it down for his own personal use. It was about as powerful as his Tin Crystallization Catalyst but it could cast both Abyssal Sorceries and Abyssal Miracles and further boosted their power. Holding the catalyst in one hand, he grabbed the Dark Soul with the other. He would be using it to help in this process. He was about to start but paused as a thought came to him. When he left this place, would he be leaving this child here in this world or would he bring it with him back to his own? This wasn’t like Celestia or Luna who originated here and would be needed in this world. Alric had no idea what domains a god derived of the Abyss might encompass as only one had ever existed. The Furtive Pygmy. So he knew not how this child would benefit the world. If the child were to remain here, perhaps it would be best to give it the form of a pony so that it might better fit in with the inhabitants of this world. But if it were to come with him, perhaps it would be best to give it a human form. He would like it if his child resembled him. “Manus, what would you do in my position? What form would you let this child take? Would you make it human or a being resembling the inhabitants of this land?” Alric asked the Dark Soul. He then sighed and shook his head. “I know you cannot respond, even could you hear me… I suppose it may be unfair to take only two of my children with me when I leave this place, and leave the other two. Thus I suppose I shall simply give it the form of a pony so it might fit better within this world.” Raising his catalyst and the Dark Soul he began. The humanity sprites began merging together into a single clump of humanity. As they did, Alric began purging them of Fire entirely. He refused to leave so much as a single spark of the First Fire or Gwyn’s light within them. This soul he was creating would be humanity in its absolute purest form, completely untainted by anything else. The white aura that typically surrounded humanity began to waver. Growing dimmer and dimmer before fading entirely, leaving only a solid black mass. Pure distilled darkness. It looked like a flat hole in the world, emitting and reflecting no light whatsoever thus making it impossible to distinguish any features. It was the deepest darkest black imaginable. When it was complete, Alric began trying to form a body for it. Then something peculiar started to happen. The Dark Soul itself began influencing the process. It wasn’t taking control, rather it was guiding him. Like a master potter helping guide the hands of an apprentice molding the clay on a pottery wheel for their first creation. Like a father or grandfather trying to teach a son his craft. He was caught off guard at first. He hadn’t expected this. But it was more confirmation that the Dark Soul did indeed have a will of its own. This wasn’t a good time or place to experiment with the Dark Soul, considering what happened when he had introduced it to Gwyndolin’s soul. However, this didn’t seem quite as dangerous. It wasn’t as if the Dark Soul was lashing out like before. It just seemed to be trying to help him. To teach him. So, he decided to simply go along with it and see what would come of this. If it didn’t turn out well, he could simply terminate the resulting creature and start again. As it went on, he realized the Dark Soul was having him instill the creature with knowledge. Alric hadn’t even known such a thing was possible. As he was still fully in control of the process, simply accepting guidance, he limited how much knowledge the creature would gain. He wanted to be cautious, not knowing how this would turn out. He limited it to having the intellect of a child, about the same age as Celestia and Luna. Then the mass of darkness began to expand slowly taking the shape of one of the humanity phantoms Alric had encountered in the Abyss of Oolacile. But its form seemed incredibly malleable. Through the Dark Soul’s guidance, he realized he could design it to be capable of changing its shape. He could limit it to only a few shapes or give it full control over its own form. He decided to give it one form. That of a pony.  He designed its pony form to have a horn and wings so it would have the features of both the unicorns and pegasi. Perhaps it was naive of him, but he hoped that would let it fit in better with both. However, he quickly realized he couldn’t solidify the humanity enough to give it a truly physical body. He could solidify it enough that it would be able to touch and interact with things but it was technically a mass of darkness rather than flesh and bone. Alric should have realized this was a possibility and prepared a body of flesh for the soul he made to inhabit rather than trying to sculpt raw humanity into a body. It was incredibly foolish of him. Unfortunately the mistake was impossible or at least highly impractical to fix at this point so he had to just make do. He made areas of less dense darkness, almost resembling smoke, to give the solidified mass of darkness definition rather than simply being a flat featureless black mass. Its mane, tail, and eyes were all different shades of gray and black. His form was still somewhat malleable as he was technically made entirely of solidified humanity so as he got older perhaps he could learn to shape shift, but for now Alric wanted him to get used to looking like a pony. He was currently roughly the same size and shape as a male foal roughly the same age of Celestia. He would grow just like a normal foal or child. When he was finished, he lowered his catalyst and put the Dark Soul back in his bottomless box until he could return it to its altar in his chapel. The boy stared at him curiously. “Hello.” Alric greeted him with a warm smile. “Hello… Who are you?” It asked. “I am Alric. Your creator, your father. And I have just finished creating you. Happy birthday, my son.” “Who am I? What am I?” The being asked. “What are you? Hm… Such a simple question with a rather complicated answer. You are a creature of the Abyss. Humanity distilled. Darkness given form. A descendant of the Furtive Pygmy. You may not understand what any of that means currently, but I shall teach you in time. For now, know that you are my son and that’s all that truly matters. Though if you require a species to call yourself… Well, quite frankly you’re the first of your kind. So we would have to come up with a name for what you are. Something that we can explore a bit later, perhaps.” Alric explained. “As for who you are… I suppose I should give you a name. Or would you rather name yourself?” The boy was silent for a moment, just floating there. Eventually he responded. “I don’t know…” Alric looked at him curiously. “You don’t know… Very well. Then I suppose I shall give you a name. If you like it, you may keep it. If you do not, I shall try another. If you don’t like that one, I shall make a list of possible names for you to choose from and you may choose which you like the best. Is that alright?” “Yes.” The boy said simply. “Very well… How do you like the name Aldrich? It’s similar to my name, I know. That’s intentional. It’s something of a tradition amongst the Lords to name their children after themselves. Gwyn named his children after himself. The Witch of Izalith named her daughters after herself. Manus named the first Pygmies after himself. Nito… well… Nito never had children to begin with otherwise I imagine he would have done the same. I am the Chosen Undead, the bearer of all four Lord Souls. I may as well be a Lord myself. So I thought it may be fitting to follow this tradition. But what is your opinion?” Alric suggested. “I don’t like it. Too far away. Not born yet, but old…? Like me but… not? Too deep… It feels… hungry…” Alric raised an eyebrow at that. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand… Are you referring to the name itself or someone else named Aldrich?” It had to be the name itself. He was just born. He didn’t know anyone besides Alric. And Alric certainly didn’t know anyone named Aldrich. At least no one that was particularly notable. “I don’t know… But it’s scary. I don’t like it.” The boy stated. Alric took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Very well… I shall have to investigate this matter some other time. If you dislike the name, that’s quite alright. Let us move on… What of Umbra? It means shadow or darkness. I think it’s quite fitting.” “Umbra… dark… safe… It’s nice.” The boy stated. “Excellent. In that case, happy birthday Umbra, my son. I pray you shall like it here.” Alric said with a smile, wrapping the humanity phantom in an embrace. After a moment he released the shadowy colt. “I’m going to have to introduce you to your sisters in the morning. For now, I shall make another sibling. The process I’m going to be using will be very different from the process through which I created you. Still, you are more than welcome to watch. However, I will have to ask you to do exactly as I say, in case something goes wrong. It is to keep you safe. Can you do that?” The boy nodded. “Good! Then I shall begin immediately.” Alric said before heading over to an empty section of the table. He couldn’t be certain as he’d never done this before but he imagined this process would be vastly more difficult. He was going to need every ounce of strength he could muster for this. He took off his Lingering Dragon Crest Ring and put on his Dusk Crown Ring. He immediately felt his vitality cut in half but felt his reserves of focus double. “Ugh… I despise this damnable ring, wearing it always feels utterly horrid… But I cannot deny its efficacy.” He muttered to himself, glaring at the ring begrudgingly. “What does it do?” Umbra asked, looking at it. “Oh. It allows me to cast more magic than I would otherwise be able to, but it comes at the cost of weakening me physically, cutting my life force in half. It is not a pleasant sensation. But as I said, it’s highly effective in its purpose regardless of its unfortunate drawbacks.” Alric explained. Then he proceeded to reach into his bottomless box, withdrew the Crown of The Dark Sun, and put it on. “This crown increases the raw potency of my magic. Unlike this ring, there are no drawbacks.” He was going to be using a lot of power for this. Every ring he wore, and the crown, would further boost his magic and would thus hopefully create an even stronger and more perfect end result. He then took out Havel’s Dragon Tooth, and used a powerful lightning infused chisel to break a piece off the top where it would have little impact on the weapon. After casting a repair spell on the Dragon Tooth, he put both it and the chisel away. Setting the shard he broke off the weapon on the table, he took out the calamitous orange eye, the obsidian scales, a vial of blood, and a large bone shard of the arch dragon who had been terrorizing Oolacile. He was going to be making a chimeric crossbreed, much like Priscilla. However, instead of Seath the Scaleless, it would be a hybrid of one of the last and the most terrifying and powerful of the Arch Dragons. Kalameet. Who even the Gods feared. Alric wished he had some materials from Priscilla. Her power of Life Hunt would be perfect to infuse this being with considering it was meant to be a weapon against himself. Alas, he would have to settle for just Kalameet’s power. Though that was no small thing. Kalameet was the last and most feared of the ancient dragons for good reason. Moving on, he took out a vial of Quelana’s blood. Similarly he took out a lock of Quelaan’s hair. Separating the strands he only took about half before tying the rest back up and putting them away. They had given these to him willingly for study and experimentation after he had cured Quelaan’s affliction. Though the lock of hair was as much a keepsake from Quelaan as it was material for him to study. Thus why he didn’t use all of it. Then he took out the soul of Quelaag. He had tried to give it back to Quelana and Quelaan after reuniting them, but they told him to keep it. They, apparently, weren’t so sentimental as Ciaran. Or perhaps they were, but were unable to perform the same rites and rituals as whatever Ciaran had done with Artorias’ soul. After all, the Gods had fled Anor Londo and they would never willingly perform a funeral service for a demon. Even a half demon like Quelaag. The bastards… Just another reason to loath the Gods of Anor Londo, he supposed. He could never find a use for it before curing Quelana, and he could never bring himself to do anything with it afterwards. This could, perhaps, be a second chance for Quelaag. A sort of “reincarnation” similar to what some in the far eastern lands believed in. She would have no memories of her past life and would thus be in essence an entirely new person, but it was still technically her in a way. If only Quelana and Quelaan could be here to see it and give their input on how he should remake her. Would they be opposed to the form he would be giving her? He desperately wished he had some way to contact them so he could be sure he wasn’t making a grave mistake… In fact, he wished he could talk to Priscilla since she would have a better perspective on the issues with being a crossbreed. Other than being ostracized and banished to a painting, he supposed. Next he took out an empty glass vial and a normal dagger. Cutting his palm, he filled the vial with the thick red ichor streaming from the wound before healing himself and putting the dagger away. It was just enough that his child would be related to him. It would have his blood running through its veins. However it very explicitly wouldn’t be human. He wouldn’t allow it to be. It would have no humanity. He didn’t want any of his children to suffer as he had. Thus why he was making these two in the first place. Then he took out a branch from the Bed of Chaos. After defeating her, he had studied the Bed of Chaos, wondering how the Witch of Izalith could have turned into such a diminutive creature. What he learned was astounding. That creature wasn’t the Witch herself. Not entirely anyway. It was just a part of her. Specifically it was her heart. When she had lost control of the Flames of Chaos her body had become the massive tree-like demon he had fought, which was why it looked vaguely humanoid, while her heart turned into the insect and fell out of her chest as she was transforming. It was still linked to her body through her soul, thus why she died when it did. If he was going to create a demon-hybrid in hopes of making a more potent weapon, it seemed only fitting to include the mother and greatest of all demons in the process. He took out a couple small vials of blood he had taken from Celestia and Luna for study. He had cast miracles on them to make it completely painless. He wanted the creature to be able to fit in with ponies. So he had to use materials from ponies to give it the form of a pony. Or at least as close to it as possible. Plus it had the added benefit of ensuring it would be related to Celestia and Luna by blood, making it truly their sibling. Finally he took out the Life Soul. He was going to create a new life, not using any of the methods Seath devised, so he was going to need the power of the Life Soul. He just had to be extremely careful to avoid this going wrong. “A tooth fragment of an Everlasting Dragon. The eye, scales, and a shard of bone of Kalameet. The blood of Quelana and the hair of Quelaan. A branch from the Bed of Chaos. Blood from Celestia and Luna, And most importantly of all, the power of the Life Soul to make the process I’m going to use actually possible… Am I missing anything? Hm… I have nothing of Priscilla so no, I suppose that’s everything.” He muttered to himself. He then proceeded to take out both a catalyst and a talisman, holding one in each hand. Though there was a bit of a difference this time. Instead of the Tin Crystallization Catalyst he normally used, he took out the Witch of Izalith’s Catalyst. While the Tin Crystallization Catalyst was better for general sorcery and especially crystal sorcery, the Witch’s Catalyst was immensely superior for flame sorcery which he was going to have to make use of. Though he still took out Velka’s talisman, as usual, and held it in his off hand. He always did his best work when using multiple forms of magic in tandem. He took a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself. Then he began. The Life Soul blazed furiously and the materials all raised up off the table. Quelaag’s soul floated in the center, surrounded in a ring by all of the other materials save for the Lord Soul. Blood flowed out of all of the vials and mixed together enveloping Quelaag’s soul and merging into an amorphous sphere. The raw power Life Souls caused the crimson sphere of blood to seemingly catch fire and burn with divine power. The flames started flickering red as Alric carefully brought forth the power of the Chaos flame. It started slow at first but it didn’t take long for the chaos flames to practically explode forth. Alric grit his teeth and clenched his eyes shut, every muscle in his body was tense from the sheer effort it took to restrain the Chaos Flames and prevent them from overwhelming the flames of the First Fire.   “RAAAAAH!” He yelled from the struggle. Every muscle in his body was fully taught. Tense from the herculean effort that was keeping the Chaos Flames under control. Umbra seemed startled and took a hesitant step towards him. “STAY BACK…! I’m… s-sorry… Don’t m-mean… to… sh… shout… P-please… I… n-need to… f… focus… Don’t… dis… distract me…” Alric growled, struggling with all he had. Umbra stepped back, but seemed to be having trouble sitting still. He could tell something was wrong and was visibly nervous. Alric didn’t see this, however. He just had to trust Umbra was doing as he was told. He opened his mouth and summoned his pyromancy flame within his jaws, a technique he developed taking inspiration from the dragons. Fire began spewing from his mouth with every ragged strained breath he took. He couldn’t do this with just miracles and flame sorcery alone. He needed pyromancy as well. This divided his attention even more which put significantly more mental strain on him, but ultimately it made it a bit easier to keep the chaos flames contained so it was worth it. The Dusk Crown Ring was his only saving grace at the moment, providing him barely enough focus and mental fortitude to cope with the strain. His Bellowing Dragon Crest ring, the Ring of the Sun’s First Born, and the Crown of the Dark Sun working together were the only reason he had enough power to hold back the Chaos Flames of the Life Soul on his own. Even then he was considering taking out all three of the other Lord Souls to reign in the raw untamed power of the Life Soul and Chaos Flames. It was no wonder why the Witch had lost control of the Chaos Flame, considering the difference in the sheer magnitude of what she was trying to accomplish. Alric could tell he would surely fail under those circumstances. Fortunately, what he was trying to do was nothing near so lofty as trying to replace the First Fire itself. He was just trying to create a single being. One singular new life. Something much smaller in scale which should be within his bounds. As the ritual continued the bone fragment plunged into the burning sphere of blood. After that it began to morph and take shape as the bone began to grow, stretch, break, expand, and form its skeleton. First the torso, the neck, the fore-legs, the hind legs, the tail, the head, and the hooves. Much to Alric’s surprise, four dragon-like wings sprouted from the child’s back. Two were larger and higher up while two were smaller and slightly lower on the back. Their sizes and positioning would have almost made them look like the wings of an insect, almost like a butterfly or moth if they weren’t obviously the wings of a dragon. Priscilla didn’t have wings, so he hadn’t expected this child to have wings either so this came as a shock to him. The influence of the Chaos Flame and its demonic side perhaps? Or perhaps he added a bit more dragon into the mix than he intended? He couldn’t afford to waste effort thinking about it now. The tooth fragment shot into the jaws before splitting and forming the teeth. Kalameet’s eye was absorbed into the mass as well, forming a singular eye in the center of the forehead. Four other eyes formed closer to where eyes would normally be, bloody red and lacking the same inner glow as the single orange eye. Instead they burned with the flames of chaos. Eyelids formed shortly after its eyes. Alric modified the spell and ensured the oddly vertical eyelids around the eye of Kalameet were sealed similarly to the eyes of a newborn kitten. This way he would have some time to teach the child to be careful with it and to not use it recklessly. It was a power even the gods feared at the height of their power. Gwyn himself refused to hunt down Kalameet for fear of bringing his wrath down upon the gods because of this power. So leaving it in the hands of an untrained child was flirting with disaster. Especially if things went wrong and the demonic nature of the child made it go berserk. He’d faced that eye in battle once and it had been the single hardest fight of his existence. He didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it again. He also attempted to limit the power the child would be able to draw from its soul at first. Quelaag was not particularly powerful, despite technically being a goddess as a direct daughter of the Witch of Izalith. At least, relative to other gods and goddesses. He had been able to slay Quelaag quite early in his journey, after all. But he still wanted it to gain power at a similar rate to its siblings. Then the blood began to transmute, forming organs, veins, arteries, muscles, flesh, and more. Kalameet’s scales were pulled into the child, splitting and morphing to cover parts of the child’s body. It ran down the child's back, up over parts of the top of its head, in patches down the sides of its legs. The underside of the child’s body had patches of scales but it lacked the same coverage as the limbs and back. The child was very visibly a male at this point. There was a small smattering of scales on his cheeks, aside from the primary scales on the top of his head. Otherwise his face looked remarkably pony-like, save for the color of his eyes, his reptilian pupils, the number of eyes he had, and the sharp draconic teeth in his mouth. Quelaan's hair planted itself in the boy's head and rapidly spread across it before growing to form a thick, almost lion-like mane. However, the hair continued to spread, forming fur like that of a pony. The fur rapidly changed to charcoal black, regaining all the color Quelaan's hair had lost due to her illness, while the mane remained ash gray. A stark contrast to the charcoal fur, obsidian scales, and the crimson chaos flames. Lastly it formed a tuft of hair at the end of the child's tail, resembling his mane. Chaos flames flickered in its mane and the tuft of its tail. A horn sprouted from the boy's head just above the eye of Kalameet. It split off into several small branches. Instead of bone, the horn appeared to be made of wood or something akin to the root of a tree. It had to be the influence of the Bed of Chaos. Despite his odd mix of draconic, demonic, and equine features he possessed an other worldly almost ethereal beauty similar to that all of the gods possessed. However, like with Priscilla it was diluted somewhat as he was a crossbreed. However, diluted as it was, it was further accentuated by the lethal grace of the dragons and enhanced by the Flames of Chaos that permeated his very being. The crimson fire blazed across his horn and flickered within its mane. It even burned beneath his obsidian scales, the red light glittering off their glossy black surface. All in all, he was about the size of Umbra or Celestia. Though Alric could tell he was going to grow very large. As a crossbreed and a demon, he was destined to be large. How large exactly was in question, but bigger than a normal pony for certain. And having been made with the power of the life soul, he might grow faster than normal as well. Alric continued for a bit, doing some finishing touches with the Life Soul to ensure the absolute perfection of his second born son, making sure there were no defects and that he would be as healthy as possible. He also took what he learned from creating Umbra and attempted to instill some base knowledge into the boy’s mind. Just enough to match the relative age of his body. When he was done, he ended the spells, nearly collapsing now that his exertion was over. However he forced himself to keep standing and wrapped his arms around his new son, catching him as he was floating back down to the table. Fortunately despite the flames he proved to be safe to touch, though he was incredibly warm. His body temperature was much higher than most living creatures.  His eyes snapped open almost immediately as he landed in Alric’s arms. His smiling face was the first thing he saw. He bared his teeth and snarled at him, struggling in his grasp. He kicked and bit at Alric. He bit Alric in the face, leaving deep ragged gouges in his flesh. The child’s body temperature started climbing rapidly until Alric’s flesh began to char and burn. Umbra made a terrified noise. “Stay where you are!” Alric ordered even as he was starting to burn alive as his body was being bludgeoned by hooves and shredded by teeth. He looked into the boy’s eyes and saw his rage, indignation, and above all else his fear. But noticeably there wasn’t even a hint of malice within him. He was merely lashing out like a scared trapped animal. That was enough for Alric Thus, instead of ripping the child’s soul from his body with the Dark Hand as he planned to do if he thought the boy was beyond help, he used a modified form of Rapport and stilled these tumultuous emotions within him. Subduing his fear, his anger, and indignation. Reducing them to little more than a barely noticeable undercurrent within his subconscious. He slowly stopped kicking and struggling and his temperature began to reduce to safe levels again. As he stopped struggling, Alric wrapped him in a tight embrace, stroking the back of his head. “Shh, shh… It’s alright. You don’t need to fight. I’m not going to hurt you, my son. I made you. I’m your father. So just calm down.” “Daddy…?” The child asked, still uncertain. “Yes, dear boy. I am your father. I would never harm you nor would I allow anyone else to harm you either. You are completely safe within my care. So just calm yourself. Everything will be alright.” Alric told him. He could feel the remaining tension draining out of the child in his arms. He then collapsed to his knees as his mental fatigue and injuries were starting to catch up with him. Umbra jumped off the table and rushed over to him. “Daddy!” The demonic crossbreed looked at the shadowy pony but Alric’s modified Rapport spell was still in effect so he didn’t immediately jump to lashing out violently again. Instead he seemed more curious than anything. “You needn’t worry, Umbra. I’m quite alright. Or at least I will be… It’s not the first time I’ve been burned or torn apart. Hahaha!” Alric winced in pain. “Ow… Gah… Laughing hurts… Damn…” Setting his second born son down in front of him he reached behind his back and pulled out his estus flask. Uncorking it, he took a swig of the liquified fire within and his injuries began healing. Putting the cork back in and putting the flask back in its holster on his back he sighed in relief. “Ah… That’s much better… You needn’t be so concerned for me, Umbra. Though I do appreciate it. I’ve survived worse…” He then looked down at the burnt blood and gore covering himself and his second born. “Tsk, tsk… Look at what you’ve done. You’re all covered in my rotten old blood, and burnt blood and meat. Now we’ll have to bathe you to get it all off… Ha! I’m going to need a bath as well since I’m covered in it too. You’re going to be quite the handful, I can already tell. Before that, though, I suppose you need a name. Hm… How about, Izael. A male name derived from Izalith. The city once ruled by the Witch of Izalith.” His son looked at him not seeming to understand. “Your name? What we shall call you from now on? Do you not have an opinion, little one?” Alric asked. “Mm…” He hummed uncertainly. “What of Alarich? Would you like that name better?” Alric suggested. “Don’t know…” He muttered. Alric sighed. “Very well. We needn’t decide upon your name right away. For now, I do believe a bath is still in order.” He picked up both of them. Umbra technically hadn’t needed a bath until Alric touched him and got some blood and viscera on him. But he couldn’t let the child wander about the castle unattended just yet. So taking him as well was the best option he had. “After our bath it should be about morning, thus I shall have to introduce you both to your sisters. I’m certain you four will get along quite well!” Alric stated confidently.