As gently as I could, I caressed hia head using my bony fingers and spoke in soothing tones.
"Easy, child. It's not your fault. You did good. You did all that you could. This isn't your fault." I paused for a moment, then asked. "What is your name?"
He seemed surprised, and as the last of his life left, he answered with a whisper. "Sarjay."
At that point, I finally understood why the gods had branded me as a heretic.
They wanted control, and they would not stand for anyone to grow too powerful and possibly threaten their rule. So they would bring children that are easy to manipulate and molded them into weapons, to remove the thorns in their side.
Grieving for the boy I had only known for a few minutes, I decided I would not allow the gods to get away with this. In my studies, I developed a spell that would bind a departed soul to their own body, creating effectively a sapient undead that was, in practice, the same person they had been in life, I called them revenants.
It had been a failure on normal people, as they did not have the mana required to sustain their own life, and would perish after a few months.
But I could feel a great amount of mana coming from the boy, and that gave me ideas. I channeled magic through her body and into the Near-Beyond, retrieved his soul, and got to work.
What I saw when I finally inspected his soul filled me with smoldering rage. From a distance, it had looked like it was oddly larger than usual, which I chalked up to Hero souls being special. And special it was, likely courtesy of the gods' machinations.
The thing was so completely covered in thick chains of mana that I had thought them to be part of the soul. There were so many layers I couldn't even see the soul proper through the gaps in the links.
I removed myself from the surgery and cast a spell of preservation onto the boy's body. Freeing his soul from the shackles would be an undertaking and I did not want him to return to a half-rotted corpse. I also took a moment to ward us from scrying, the gods had interfered enough, and I did not want them to see what I was going to attempt.
I had to move carefully to cut and pry away at the chains. They were shaped in such a way to make freeing oneself as difficult as possible. I cursed at the gods while I did so.
As I carved through the construct, the original soul started to become visible, and I discovered another addition. A miniature mana well had been grafted onto his soul, likely the work of the gods, to empower his special hero abilities which would work perfectly for my purposes.
I almost made a mistake when a voice sounded inside my head.
"Dark Lord?"
"Sarjay, I am so sorry for what was done to you."
"What do you mean? Why can't I see anything? What are you doing?"
"You died. I did not realize you were so young. I am sorry." I paused my work on the chains so I could answer him properly.
"I am working on freeing your soul from the enslavement the gods put it under. I've made significant progress, which is probably why you can communicate with me right now."
"Your words sound true… I remember thinking things that did not feel like my own. So they had been manipulating me… I am not surprised." He paused, then added. "Are you going to enslave me too?"
I recoiled at the accusation.
"Never. If you consent, I will bring you back to the living as a revenant. You won't be wholly alive, but that is all I can do for now."
He did not wait at all to reply. "I accept."
"Very well. It will still be some before I finish freeing you. I would appreciate it if you could let me concentrate."
He was silent after that, and eventually, his soul was free of compulsion. The only abnormal part that remained was the mana well, but I sensed nothing malicious about its presence. In either case, I would closely monitor his situation to ensure his safety.
I returned to my body and cursed myself for my carelessness. A mental ping to one of my smarter minions informed me that I had been under for a week. I was incredibly lucky that my Legion was able to repel the attack without my input.
Unmarred soul in hand, I finished attaching it to Sarjay's body. The result was instantaneous. He opened her eyes and rose to a sitting position, smacking his head against mine in the process.
I could not help it, I laughed, both in amusement and relief. He looked at me oddly and smiled.
"Thank you, Dark Lord," he said, bowing his head.
"There's nothing to it," I said as I waved my hand. "And my name is Achilles."
He stared at me for a minute, seeming to ponder on his change of circumstances. I rose, starting to move away to give him time to think. He would need a lot of time in the coming days.
"Wait," I heard from behind me.
Sarjay lifted himself unsteadily, still unused to the body that had been dead for a week.
"I won't swear to the gods, because they have shown that they're cheating bastards. You had no obligation towards me, but you saved and freed me. For that, I owe you my life," he then went down on one knee and bowed his head. "I would be your knight if you would have me."
I was stunned speechless for a moment.
"Don't be ridiculous, get up," I said as I moved to help him to his feet. "You can do whatever you want, now. Travel the world as a knight errant, fight dragons and drunkards."
"That is not the kind of knight I want to be," Sarjay hesitated, then added. "I've already seen what the real evil in this world is. I can't close my eyes and pretend it didn't happen. "So, I like your cause and wish to follow you."
I raised an eyebrow at that.
"What would you know about that? I've most certainly never declared myself for any cause."
"When you were fixing my soul, I was conscious through most of it. I was able to hear your thoughts from time to time, that's where I got most of the context from. Your anger towards the gods was something else. I know you won't let them get away with this."
Sarjay stepped forward.
"I want to help."
"You know, it's not going to be anything quick. It might be centuries to amass enough power to overthrow those leeches. Hells, I don't even have a plan yet. Even so. Oh and, I might have an idea. We can beat them at their own game."
"Oh?"
"There's a few things at play. First, since you defeated me, the gods probably think I'm dead and buried. So they're gonna continue with sending Heroes until you're dead," Sarjay started. "We also get these boons when we get summoned here; it makes us level up and master skills more quickly, plus some other combat buffs. So you let them come, and free them like you did with me. I'm sure they'll easily be persuaded to join up. Then we take our army of undead Heroes and kick the gods' collective asses." he finished with a grin, planting his hands on his hips.
"That's… a really good plan, actually. I like it. I'll have to play up the whole big bad evil shtick." I ran a hand through my hair and let out a sigh. "You have a really good head on your shoulders. At first, I thought you were a bit dim, since you kept running into all my traps, but you're actually really cunning, aren't you?"
He blushed and let out an embarrassed laugh. "Ugh, that — it's just, this armor, you know? I can't see anything through the visor."
I smiled, but in my head, I felt another pang of rage. I'd had some suspicions when I saw how they sent an obviously unprepared Hero against me, but the hindering, poorly fitting gear only cemented the idea. He had been set up to fail. But why? And by who? I kept these thoughts to myself and schooled my face. No need to cause his undue anguish.