Part XI: Her (End of Obsidian, Third Scene)
Corley sat down in the unused wing that he had been inhabiting recently. His pen in his hand, he began a new entry in his journal.
Of all the bizarre and horrible crimes against Dwarfkind that my family has committed, there is one that stands out. To this day, I still shudder to recall the details of my grand-aunts work. I find myself unable to muster the same level of judgement even towards the bloodkin, my father's Day of Reckoning, or the M.A.S.K. project. In retrospect, I see myself as quite foolish for not being frightened at its implications and existance when she was alive. I am writing of my grand-aunt's clone: Melek.
I can recall my shock when I read through my father's papers, for I certainly did not expect to discover that my own cousin was a clone. Why, she was one of the few in my life for whom I had dear love, and she was not even a dwarf! At the time, I was certainly in denial about the issue, and confronted neither her nor her mad creator. I was afraid to face anyone at all, and I tried my very best to forget. Soon after she was killed by my folly, I succeeded, and her memory and that of her origin were forgotten.
About one hundred years after the fall of Steelhold, as my bloodkin forces ravaged the Elvish lands, I did chance to look over my old writings that I had kept as I was fleeing the prison's destruction. Amongst these were the papers detailing Melek's origin. It was then that I began to consider the implications of this crime. As she developed, Melek began to develop the same behaviors of her creator. She operated on dwarves, she performed tests and experiments, and the resemblance to Asmoth was undeniable. If the circumstances in Steelhold had turned out differently—say, Asmoth were to die in place of Melek—the clone would effectively be able to continue the creator's legacy.
At the time, I was still quite eager to bring ruin to all of the elves that I could find. This newfound realization made me strongly consider making a clone of myself! What if I were to be killed in some freak accident? I would need a successor to carry out my mission. I was foolish then, but it certainly made sense to me.
Thus, I began to study my father's notes and to experiment in the dark science even further. I had very few intelligent bloodkin under my command at that point in time—it was before I joined up with the other two and obtained the more intelligent ones—so most of the work was done on my own. When I finally created something that began to develop into a living creature, I was overjoyed. This gaiety was short-lived, unfortunately, for the creature was hardly stable and died within minutes. I felt a twinge of the doubt that I now feel everyday, and I abandoned the project for many years.
Much later, when talk of invading the Mainland became more frequent, I began to turn—once again—to the dark sciences. At this point, I had the thaumateurges to assist me, for whilst not sane, they're certainly more capable than the ordinary bloodkin. Before I left, I gave those in my fortress my research notes and a few blood and skin samples, telling them to do what they could. I left them there, and began my journey into the Mainland where I would be defeated and placed into a sleep that lasted my ages.
When I returned to the bloodkin fortress not too long ago, one of the messages that was relayed to me was from my workers. At the time, I was too frightened to write it down, but I have now gained the courage to do so. I was told that there was a break-through in the cloning research whilst I was asleep, and that they would be able to make me a clone from samples that they then requested. Whilst I am shamed to admit it, I abliged, and they went on to do the work that I hated.
The clone is not a vampire; apparently they have a way of removing it from the cell samples, as it causes complications. It has been artificially aged by some means, and its developed mind was able to be taught the basics of survival with little trouble. There is a slight issue of the loss of early memories, due mostly to the artificial aging, but that is of little concern. I had it sent to the Mainland, in order that it may assist in my work.
If she even had a soul, and if she even made it to Heaven, I'll bet she laughs at me. I so readily partake in that which I hate.
Author
Topic: Demongate: Wrapping up the Loose Ends. (Read 696752 times)