The day after losing Cella, and after the deaths of all the orks, Ren sat on the small hill behind his pond. With no idea how to begin the task before him, Ren was looking for help. A ritual circle was drawn out before him, and with no true idea of how rituals worked he allowed the skill to naturally guide him. He knew it was the influence of his patron, but it was all he had. The innate skill to create rituals was a power he could not afford to ignore.

  It had taken hours, as the delicate work needed had to be redone several times, as small imperfections could ruin the process. The symbols he used varied between small unfamiliar ones, as well as small occult symbols he felt he remembered. Trying to remember them, he felt the faint fuzziness in the back of his mind, the sensation of his patron blocking out old memories.

  Ren focused, trying to forget about the odd feeling some of the symbols gave him. The orks and their ways gave him much to think about, but regardless of it, he used his mana to form more symbols. The amber within his chest weakened as he did so. Its response to any mana use from it. It would be far less useful in battle Ren realized, as it was far less useful if he was summoning fire, or utilizing eldritch abilities.

  The ritual was nearing completion as small runic formulas were being formed between the larger symbols across the ritual circle. Ren had neglected using rituals, he hoped to find some great new discovery to help him in the future through this practice now.

  The symbols began to hum as the network of runic formulas transformed the energy, then allowing it to move into other symbols. Eventually, this process began to spread across the entire network of symbols and runes.

  As the entire ritual formation was fully activated, darkness spread throughout the middle of it. In the full daylight of noon, the hill became ensnared with shadow. The light was eaten away as black tendrils pulled free of the darkness within the ritual. The black tentacles of The Watcher emerged as a miniature version of it came free.

  The miniature floating eye, miniature in comparison to the gigantic true version of it, bobbed in the air with an orange iris. The other floating eyes that were around the water were not present on this version of the creature. Instead, it only possessed several tentacles of deep onyx.

  “Watcher.” Ren nodded to the being.

  “Little Human.” The Watcher blinked, its voice like that of nails on chalk, and shattered glass.

  “The name is Ren, do use it. I summoned you here in a far different way than before. A more powerful manifestation in hopes that we could speak. My doing so might jeopardize my life, so we should make this brief.”

  “Speak then, Ren.” Spoke the disembodied voice of the floating eye.

  “A paladin slaughtered the tribe of orks I had begun to work with. I was learning… some power, something I don’t yet understand. Cella was taken, I do not know if she lived. She is the companion I made in the Underdark, and I wish to retrieve her. Even if she’s dead, I want to kill those responsible. The orks, they put something inside me, a piece of amber. It merged with my heart, and it's giving me a strange form of stamina. It is not the nature affinity they pulse throughout their body, but it is something different.”

  “The paladin, what strength does he possess compared to my true form?” The floating eye asked.

  “Miles beyond you, the difference in your power and his, it’s greater than mine to yours.”

  “Truly? Is this being close to the peak of mortality? Did this paladin display an aura?”

  “Yes, he dropped from the sky as a meteor, an aura around him turned everything into dust, eradicating all that stood in his way. One attack and he killed everyone, I barely managed to survive, I only lived because I was covered in a landslide and hidden.” Ren clenched his fists and stared at the floating eye. “How do I kill him?”

  The eye slowly floated closer toward Ren. “The orks, they gave you an amber heart? Well, there is one part of your problem solved. It is something I have not heard of since the time before my coming into this world. Men, they see orks as lesser, primal brutes. Men slay orks for sport, to prove themselves in some cultures. I do not know much of it, but an amber heart in a human is a powerful boon. Look deep within yourself, and seek what power you can gain from it. I do not know much of how to advise you on this though.”

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  “It’s the opposite of my eldritch abilities. How can I possibly use it? When I created the ritual the amber nearly went dormant when I was shaping the mana.”

  “Yes, orks possess no mana, and so the amber will operate much differently from you. Perhaps if you had a more conducive affinity for it to work with, it may even function as an amplifier. Though, this will not likely work for you.”

  “You’re not telling me much, that's going to help. I need to gain strength, and quickly. How can I best become stronger? What can I do to become at a similar level to the paladin?”

  “That’s impossible.” The eye spoke it plainly.

  “What? How did he become that strong then? Why can’t I do whatever he did?”

  “You would need to pursue such power for decades, and even under perfect circumstances doing such within a single decade is nearly impossible.” The eye stared at Ren unblinking.

  “So what, there’s no possibility of me being able to save her?”

  “You could, but you will not like the methods.” The eye slowly blinked at him.

  “What do I need to do?” Ren looked into the dark pupil of the floating eye as a human-like eagerness came through the vile voice of the eye.

  “Little Ren, I must retake my elder form, and then I shall kill anything you so ask.”

  A light came from the eye and Ren saw a series of images. The first came in a bright flash. It was The Watcher, in his ‘true form’ Ren saw beneath the world in the depth of the Underdark. However in this image, it was high in a blizzard atop a mountain. Three dragon-like beings circled it. A singular one of two-legged, and light blue-hued wyverns stabbed down with a barbed tail. In the image, a beam of red light was leaving one of the many eyes of The Watcher. It was moments away from striking the wyvern who appeared to be trying to dodge but was failing.

  The image had been nothing new, just a demonstration of what it was capable of, and likely still is.

  The second image to flash into Ren’s mind was the same being, though this time battling against a human man. It was the image of Alkyri. With a gauntlet of seven gems, he had his hand raised before The Watcher. A trap was being released that bound The Watcher with seven layers of ritual formations. With this image, Ren understood how The Watcher was bound to Alkyri and made a servant.

  Ren feared he was to become just like the Eldritch being. He held the power of eradicating fires, a poison greater than any other, and The Watcher by his side. He knew that it was true, that his fear of being like that which he hates was a reality he was living.

  The third image to be shown to Ren’s mind was a mutated horror. The Watcher, yet so much more. It was inconceivable to his mind, an endless being of eyes and black tendrils that sought to destroy all in its path. As it touched his mind, he wept. Never could he bring about such a being, even to kill those who took away what was most precious to him.

  The fourth image was that of a man and his weapon of war. Alkyri and the abomination that once was, what was again, The Watcher. They died together as they were betrayed by all of those who sought Godhood. The master and his faithful dog were reduced to ruin. One made only a leech to drain away its master’s corpse under the earth, the other banished from this world to roam the void.

  The disembodied voice of the eye spoke again, it was like that of an ice sickle shattering, cool, sharp, and brittle. “Do you know understand? Do you see what I am? A fallen angel of a God. One that bound me, made me a slave. But made an angel to wage war against the demons sent by the others. I am far more than you can imagine. It is only that my boy slumbers, we are bound together, just as it once was. Now, restore me, and we shall take this world!”

  “You think I will restore the bloodthirsty dog of an evil false God? You’re a fucking idiot. Go die in the Underdark if you’re that stupid. Tell me how to get stronger, or I’ll leave you to rot in the ruins of your master’s dead corpse.”

  Like steam rolling from a kettle, the eye hissed. “Do you believe me dumb? You need me. You will need my power to fight against those who rule this world. You will see that more clearly the longer you live in this realm. Do not be a fool, do not pretend I am unneeded. You will gather strength by killing, and practicing new ways of killing. Nothing more, nothing less. When those you fight surpass you in power, you will need me to save you.”

  Ren ended the ritual, the eye being pulled back into the blackness within the middle of the formation. With a scornful squint, The Watcher was sucked back down by an unseen force.

  He sat back down on the hill, sweating. Useless goddamned eyeball. Contemplating how to get back at the big eyeball for being an evil and disgusting abomination, he decided on just finishing up his healing.

  Though the conversation was far from productive, Ren did now meditate on the feelings he got from the amber. The energy it gave off was most certainly stamina, or nearly indistinguishable from it. It did seem similar to life affinity, though it was of no affinity. There was a closeness to water, and to earth. Even a connection to air, but there was no connection to his fire. It felt useless, trying to come up with ways to use something truly not made for him.