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All had been done in order to distract him from his cause. This new, nomadic life. This suppression of his mind. This cage.

It was the children’s attempt to pull him away from the very reason he was born. Despite their many attempts, they’d never been able to kill him, so they always had to resort to some alternate stratagem. Making hostages of the hapless mortals whom he grew to care for. Crafting elaborate illusions to deceive him. Imprisoning him in empowered chains. Sealing his soul away in some chaotic realm. And now this. Directly enslaving his mind.

Who was it this time?

The exact knowledge was missing. Torn from him, no doubt. But that was an answer unto itself. Their names, temperaments, and abilities were all baked into his very soul by He Who Is Not.

It could only be Ettol’s doing. The Child of Impulse, Deceit, and Rebirth. Ever a problem, that one. Evasive and cunning. How had he managed to enrapture his mind?

Ah. He recalled. Caught him in a moment of weakness. Normally, his mind would have been protected from such manipulation. But after wasting away in a long imprisonment and engaging in a subsequent battle with a possessed servant emperor, he’d been rendered vulnerable to the Child Trickster’s power.

And even now, he could feel Ettol’s lingering influence. It had gone beyond even enslavement, hadn’t it? These intervening years had been spent imprinting on him. Linking their souls together.

Building a friendship between them. Planning for his eventual escape. Yes.

Ettol would have known that this circumstance could not last indefinitely. That the deception would sooner or later be broken. So he had planted a kernel of camaraderie in his heart. In the hope of creating hesitation when the time finally came that they were enemies once again.

Yes. Ever the schemer. Truly, Ettol had changed the least of all the children. Perhaps because suitable vessels were such a comparative rarity for him.

Koh had to wonder if any of that scheming would matter, however. Rather than anger, he instead pitied the struggling child. The Prime Hunt must continue. There was no stopping it. He would send Ettol back to the unhallowed side of the master, regardless of any personal attachments.

It was inevitable.

But what was this? He could sense something else here, too. A familiar mass of power. Of gathered souls in furious agony.

A manifestation of the great curse upon the mortals of this realm. And the great sin of the children.