A second passed. Then two.
Three…
The imaginary clock kept ticking in his head…
Nothing happened.
Finally, Umbra opened his eyes, still staggering with exhaustion.
He glanced around before scrutinizing his body for any sign of any 'magical damage'.
Happily, he found none.
He struggled to remain upright. The effort of trying to reseal those erratic powers back into him had cost him a lot.
But at least he could move his body now.
Nothing could be worse than been confined in one's own body…
That dreadful experience lingered in his memory.
Trying futile attempts to move, but to no avail. So helpless.
It was just like been stuck in a body.
Your very own body.
Really classic nightmare.
He could still sense the rebelling powers revving up in him,
He managed to keep it under a tight lid. Barely.
But he had to be done with this as soon as possible.
He had no idea how much more time he had before his body yielded to its mortality.
All mortals had a flaw, as far as anything powers were concerned.
Its Vital essence.
He stretched his hand outward, glancing at the swirl of purple aura whirling around it restlessly.
Now was the moment. He had to do it now…at all costs.
Before he lost control again.
"Maris Djata…"
At this words, the tumult multiplied again, and Umbra decided to turn back.
'Abandon the attempt.'
Far more better than endangering his life.
He still had a long way to go. He could try another day.
The war still had a long planning process, but it still remained a deadline.
Hopefully though. He was only sixteen.
If he couldn't achieve necromancy, then his hope about having a magical talent turns null.
Meaning that he had no chance of defeating the same sorceress he'd swore vengeance against.
Wait…in the midst of all these thoughts, he halted.
Something was happening.
His body seemed to be getting harder to control.
As though his synapses had grown stiff.
Umbra's fear returned. In full measure.
It seemed like his body now seized slightly. Responding to his will a little bit late.
It was happening again.
Umbra watched with increasing resignation again, mingled with interest.
The ragged curtains flailed more than ever. When they did, he could see a shadow there, as though someone lurked behind them.
"Who're you?"
His voice echoed around in the reverse symphony.
He tried his possible best not to sound scared.
But he failed nevertheless.
Something more horrifying distracted him moments later.
As though in response to his question, the ragged curtains began to rip apart with loud splitting sounds.
With each passing second, fear and curiosity occupied Umbra's mind simultaneously.
Drops of sweat rolled into his eyes, obscuring his sight for a moment.
He swiped his hand across his forehead, whisking them off.
Now that he could see, he suddenly wished he could not.
Wished that he had stayed in blindness and oblivion.
The outline of a huge skeletal giant rising through the purple haze loomed over him.
He took a step back. Then another. As quietly and quickly as he could.
By now, he'd completely forgotten about the war and the sorceress.
All he wanted now was to get out of here alive.
Umbra was suddenly glad for the haze.
At least, he could still nurse a tiny sliver of hope that the giant – whoever it was – couldn't see him.
But then, like always, he had bad luck draped over him like a banner.
"Umbra Ashmedai…"
He froze. Instantly.
The frosty voice reverberated throughout the unseen ends of the dimension.
It alone, sent successive numb feelings of immeasurable fear in Umbra.
He couldn't even breathe properly again. His lungs seemed to be filled with poison.
Every heaving tormented him.
He realized with a sudden start, that whatever the giant is…it had made the Haze poisonous.
And to make matters worse for him,, the giant's voice dripped with murderous contempt.
Not even amusement. Only unscathed malevolence.
Umbra took a deep breath of poison, then braced himself.
He had just put a few things together and guessed who that giant would be.
Since he was trying to 'steal' a soul from the Underworld, he'll need some kind of permission.
He needed a plan of some sort.
Since combat could evidently not help him here, his last resort was negotiation.
Or to make it more plainer…deceit.
"I don't know you, don't care an ounce about you…"
"But it seems like I need your permission…"
Umbra looked up at it , genuinely hoping that the giant had no anger issues.
Because if it did, his next words would probably be his last.
"So…kindly step aside."
A thick rumble pulsated through the dimension. Umbra closed his eyes, waiting for the moment…
To be honest, he didn't even know what to expect.
But then, nothing happened. For a while.
It took Umbra more than a minute to realize that the giant had been laughing.
Umbra heaved a sigh of relief. Apparently, like him, it at least had a sense of humor.
Something he never expected most gods to have.
Then it replied:
"And what if I won't?"
Umbra was now at the end of his wits.
Now that deceit had failed, what next?
…Conscientization probably.
Maybe, he should really try to explain.
He sincerely doubted if it would work on a god…If at all, the giant was really a god.
But there was no other reasonable explanation for his presence here. He had to be a god, or a guardian of some sort.
"You're the Ancestor's favorite. The only one he truly calls his. So you need no permission."
Umbra frowned. Nothing made sense now.
Ancestor? The same Ancestor the spirits had spoken about?
He became genuinely worried.
But then, the last pronouncement wiped that clean from his mind.
But he had a lingering question.
He had to be cautious however, before the god ruled out his preferential treatment.
"But why're you here?...I mean why do people have to ask for permission?"
"I'm here to ensure that your kind don't misuse their powers and chances to literally undo the effects of Time."
"My kind?"
"Incarnas…most especially…Princes," the god strode closer.
Or at least that's what Umbra thought.
His shadow loomed larger over Umbra with every passing second. That's a better way to put it.
He still had no clear inkling of how the god really looked like, due to the whirlpool of aura brewing around him.
"People blessed…or rather cursed…with a vast reserve of stubborn powers often tend to misuse them for selfish reasons.
However, that's not the mission of the Dark Prince."
For the first time, Umbra detected benevolence in the god's tone.
And something else…something that sounded suspiciously like admonishment.
He let out the first deep sigh of relief. The only one that lasted for so long.
But even though he remained on his guard.
From the legends and books read, he could deduct that gods were very…
Well, nothing other than arcane could describe them.
Thus, he became fully relaxed for the first time since he'd started this necromancy of a thing.
Something he was surely not going to repeat. For whatever reason at all.
He would find a way to go back and beat the sorceress without involving necromancy.
It was going to remain an aspect of his power which he'd leave untouched.
However, he could still try to worm out a bit of information while the god remained benign.
"So what's the true mission of the Dark Prince? To help the people?"
The god didn't reply. Umbra glanced around, worrying for no reason until he noticed…
The shady outline had been shaking its head slowly.
"This might sound ridiculous, but it's not it."
A hopeful smile tugged at Umbra's lips.
It was really comforting to see that whoever he could talk about this matter with, at the very least, had a sense of humor.
But then, something lurked at the back of his mind, disturbing him.
His facial expression said it all.
If the Dark Prince's mission was not to help the people, then what was it?
"Don't let your mind dwell on that,"
Umbra wanted to retort, when he was struck by a sudden suspicion.
How…in the world?
A sparkle of understanding flashed through his mind, and Umbra slapped his head in annoyance.
How could he be so stupid? This guy was a god! He could literally do anything.
The god could see his mind all along.
Little wonder he knew his name from the very start.
"You have a task ahead of you…the soul of Maris Djata was sworn to my eternal protection, so you can't just have it."
"But you just gave me permission…"
Umbra looked completely bewildered at the thought of having to stress himself again.
"To enter the Underworld…Yes. But for Djata's soul, you will have to break the spell used to bind it to my protection. My only gift is a promise not to interfere."
Umbra understood the paradox of the god's offer, and was deeply grateful.
"One last question…who exactly