Demonic Skies *On Hold*

Chapter 3: Refining

A month had passed since the dark ritual resulting in the birth of Rolland. Aidan had painstakingly instructed Rolland step by step to his utter despair. When he had called the dark snake he summoned 'young', he had no clue how right he was. Rolland for the first week was like an utter baby curious and ignorant of the world. Whenever Aidan was forced to use the master-servant bond to rein him in, Rolland would look at him with sickening puppy eyes that stabbed at his heart.

It took Aidan another week to get Rolland to a place where he could be left on his own so he could enter the forest. The sight when he came home had deepened Aidan's growing worries. Upon his return he was met with eyes full of tears and babyish words from Rolland to never leave him alone again. Another week of strict lecturing and training was in due and Rolland somehow moved from toddler to child.

Rolland and Aidan were inside the Aidan's workshop. The cells once full of people were now empty of life. No part in due to Aidan but instead because of Rolland. Rolland seemed to struggle with the instructions to simply keep his prisoners fed. When he had returned the other day he was devastated to find that all his research materials had starved to death. It takes no explaining to understand how enraged he was. However, his lecturing was met with tears and sad eyes as though Rolland were the one who was wronged in this situation. Aidan could only sigh in despair at the uniqueness of his newest 'servant'.

"Master what is this?" asked Rolland with interest as he stood around a large iron cauldron big enough to fit several men.

"Hmmm? Ah this?" asked Aidan as he collected some flasks of assorted potions. "This is a refining process I have recently delved in. I have recently discovered that I can strengthen undead such as yourself by using a similar refinement process akin to engraving and enchanting," he explained slowly looking to make sure Rolland understood.

"So I will get stronger?" Rolland asked with a childish tone that somehow matched his youthful look.

Aidan chuckled to his question. "That and so much more. Well into the bath with you," he instructed Rolland as he dumped the flasks contents into the cauldron turning the black liquid into a golden liquid that emitted an ethereal glow.

Rolland jumped in and Aidan summoned a large lid from thin air as it dropped down onto the cauldron sealing it air tight. Rolland began to speak out saying how lonely he was and how he already missed Aidan making the latter feel the onset of a migraine. Furrowing his eyes as he rubbed his temples with his fingers, the echoes of Rolland's sobbing cries made him strike out at the cauldron in anger frightening Rolland into silence. Collecting himself, Aidan finally began the refinement process.

Aidan took out a pitch black dagger, its edge revealing a glowing green edge as he brandished it against his left hand. With a practice motion, he cut into his hand drawing blood. He placed his hand directly on the cauldron causing a slight rumble as it glowed with gold and silver symbolled lights all over. He began silently chanting as his hands motioned into different seals. This hand motion continued for more than an hour as his face slowly grew white and his face and clothes were drenched in sweat. His hands finally stopped and his eyes opened as the symbols on the cauldron turned a bloody red and trembled.

Aidan looked at the cauldron with a demonic smile as his eye shone eerily. He left and returned with a pot of tea and sat down at one of his tables awaiting the process to naturally finish. He rubbed himself down of his sweat with a towel and awaited the completion of the refining methods.

Inside, Rolland was feeling extremely hot. If Aidan could hear his thoughts he would be stunned. Most undead would have no sensations of hot or cold as such senses were the first to go as one died and last to be revitalized if the undead ritual had the power to get to that stage. Even his prized Death Knights had retained a moderate amount of sensory feedback which was unheard of in the magical world. It would have been considered a success if an undead were capable of tactile sensation.