With a swarm of the now running dead not far behind, I soon realized they had spread throughout the woodland, leaving no options for a safe withdrawal. For a mere lowborn, that is!

 It does not take much, to incapacitate an already decaying body. The kinetic push flung them out of view, and their vile vocalizations were lost soon after. With nothing more, than a few wrist movements, none could stand in my presence for long, without being returned to the soil.

 I was, and still am, INVINCIBLE!

 There were a few, I must admit, who caught me off guard the closer I got to the source, as they had buried themselves within the dirt and moss. One even dared to sully my boot, with his rotting gums!

 They were dealt with accordingly...

 This was a show of a power I had become keen on learning about. A putrid power, yet power nonetheless.

 And it would not take long, for me to meet the very culprit of this display. One, which I... Hadn't thought about in quite a spell.

 I believe I had thrown near 100 of these walking corpses, until I had finally trampled the brush to reveal an ashen-haired woman, giving me the stare of uncontainable lust... Or bloodlust, yet the border in between occasionally blurs.

 I would have preferred the prior, as she was truly someone, who could be called an extraordinary beauty, even among the high class.

 She wore tattered winter covers, which left little to the imagination. Her curves, from the shapely derriere to the ample chest. Her body resembled that of a Goddess incarnate, depicted by the tribes of the Southern exotic lands. Her pale, blinded eyes and hair, devoid of all pigment, complemented each other, as the aura of power painted a portrait, by releasing her form from all earthly forces.

 To say she held the power to awake the manly parts of me would be an understatement...

 I know of a particular noblewoman, who would be delighted to bathe in her blood, as a part of a youth ritual. A loon, that woman...

 Now, as I stood face to face with this levitating beauty, I was soon reminded of our familiarity, once the burnt remains of a person rose to stand beside her. While a book, which I had overlooked floating above her hand, violently flipped its pages.

 She was the sister, who had escaped the inquisitors. The one, who had now become that, which the Fraustians had feared. The one, whom I had taught the remedies for the winter fevers...

 Never took her for such a fair beauty before, however, exposure to the Astral Realm has been known to change one above ''common sense"!

 To be fair, I had completely forgotten about either of the misfortunate sisters...

 There was something, which even to this day I find incredibly odd. Even if the Sorceries were wielded by the woman, she did not reach for them. More precisely, her connection to the Realm had come from the peculiar floating volume, as it dictated her control. Making it a sentient object.

 A silly thought, I'm aware. I laughed at it even then, as the thought had crossed my mind. Now, however, it seems like a valid theory.

 Any semblance of civil discourse merely consisted of an unreciprocated gentleman's greeting, as a horde of the undead tripped and crawled over each other for a piece of me. I do not blame them!

 Of course, they were mere child's play, as mere lowborn could not reach me. What chance do dead ones have?

 It didn't take long, however, for me to realize this confrontation would reach heights beyond mortal competency.

 A wave of inferno set aflame the nearby woods and bodies, sending a wave of black smoke toward the skies while granting the area much-needed illumination. Like a whip of irony, the sister, who lost her kin to flame, now wielded the very tool for her grief.

 Drawn from the peculiar book, the flames gathered within her palm before a vicious swing would ignite everything in her wake, living or dead.

 On the other hand, I stood tall, unscathed by the formidable inferno, as a kinetic pushback forced the flames upwards. Without fuel, they soon dispersed, as did her composure.

  A voice, tensed in a hysterical tantrum aimed accusations at me, as silly as it sounds, for her sister's demise. All the while the bony ashes constructed, collapsed, and reconstructed beside her, as the master's concentration was waning.

 Truly, what a farce that was! Who did she think I was...

 With her undead soldiers cremated and unmoving, the only obstruction between us was a wall of fire. The lack of any creativity exhibited inexperience and scarcity of practice.

 I had to admit, however, that her flames of rage were fierce, and even forced droplets of sweat down my brow. Despite that, it was obvious. Whatever Sorcery that book gifted her, was directed toward the control of the dead. The very same, who now lay in piles of smoldering ash.

 Perhaps telling her I do not remember her was a bit counterproductive...

 Bored of her whining, I sent forth an angeled wedge of kinetic force, splitting the sea of fire, as well as blowing away her sisters remains, like dust from a shelf.

 With a desperate scream, her concentration had parted, crying for her sister's return. Ordering it! Until a hammer of kinetic force brought her to her knees, as my fist conducted the motion. I believe one of her ankles had snapped in the process, as a painful gasp escaped her lips.

 Another wave of flame, significantly weaker than before, engulfed me, yet following an ever-expanding kinetic wedge, I took a calm strode through the corridor of inferno, until I stood upon her fallen form.

 She inhaled, no doubt to direct more profanities toward me, yet a backhand slap silenced any unfounded complaints she might have had. The peculiar book, which somehow had curiously evaded my gaze once more, dropped to my feet, reminding me of the filth which now adorned my attire.

 The woman desperately grasped at the ground, confirming to be truly blind, as she threw dirt, rock, and bone in the wrong direction.

 I tried to pay no mind to the triviality of attire, and whatever the woman had begun yelling at me, as I bet down to pick up the strange volume.

 I saw it! For a mere moment, as my fingertips made contact! I saw it all...

 The realm, beyond our own. The waves, fluctuations. How it merged, shifted, and settled, only to change once more! The sheer spectacle of it all. The sheer power of what's soon to occur!

 The very Stars!

 Sensational...

 Retreating my hand a droplet of blood landed on its covers. I slowly wiped my nose, when a pulse brought me to a knee. This prolonged pulse was nothing short of exasperating. Almost as if to rip all strength from my very being, only to return tenfold a moment later!

 The surge, the ecstasy! The tension within my trousers! It all told me what had occurred, as I could not contain my laughter.

 Truly sensational!

 With the volume in my hand I rose to my feet, nearly jumping higher than any common man could, I thought! Seraphina, the woman, who controlled the dead, I'm confident that is her name, laid still upon the ash-covered ground, sharp, yet shallow breathing accompanying her pale form. The many dead who yet stood soon lost their mobility and fell among their brethren's remains.

I had won!

And what a reward I was given!

 As a test of my newfound capabilities, I rose Seraphina with an effortless kinetic technique, letting her unconscious form hover beside me, as I made my way back to Lockrifta. On the way, I snuffed the flames devouring the forest, with nothing more than a thought.

My reach had become infinite!

 I met up with Arvel, who had parted from 2 fingers, and a chunk of flesh from his forearm, as he lay under 3 still corpses. With no more than a  touch, the bleeding ceased, as skin mended itself over the wounds.

 I handed him the exposed woman and relished in the liberating aphrodisiac of power flowing through my vessel. I was so elated, I even let my servant's constant complaining about ''leaving him behind'', or ''making an injured man carry someone'' go unbothered.

 This was the moment! The very reason I drew breath! Nothing could take away from the elation I felt.

 The World Scar had finally opened! All I had to do now was tame it.

 Once we returned to our ''gracious'' Lord, I reported our encounter and losses. There was no merit, however, in them knowing the full picture, thus I  accused the ''demonic'', bolstering their superstitions. Seraphina was given to the Inquisitors for ''questioning'', yet I did tell them, to spare her ability to have a tangible conversation with me later. Linchester simply smirked, yet the change in my demeanor demanded some caution from him.

 Since that day, I've only ever heard rumors of what the poor woman is going through, as I've spent most of my time in the company of those, who practice the craft of pleasure. My vigor has seen no drought for 4 days now! Such a feeling of life... I pity the lowborn, who are incapable of perceiving and drawing from such a spring of energy!

 I've mastered fire, atop my earlier mastery of the kinetic and the alchemical.

This is only the beginning!

 One thing does keep my mind occupied, while my body rejoices. The book, and its unusual presence. It seems to always be in sight, yet draws no attention. It used to give off a peculiar rhythm- a pulse. Yet now it lays still, overshadowed by the World Scar's magnitude.

 As I write this, it sits atop the nightstand, next to my current bedding. And a strange thought has crossed my mind. A question, if You will!

 When I saw, what I assume to be the Astral realm. It's shifts, plains, and vessels...

 Who, or what was that... watching me, from beyond the stars?