Location:Pocket Dimension — Sharlin's Prison
Date/Time:Late Cinderfall, 9939 AZI
Realm:Unknown
The word detonated in the bond.
Because they had believed him dead. For twenty thousand years, they had KNOWN he was dead — known it with the certainty that Salroch's jade-green eyes and broken-deep voice had carved into their souls during those early visits.
The visits.
Salroch had come in the first millennia. Not often — but enough. Stepping through the pocket dimension's threshold with those jade-green eyes and the smile of a man who had everything his victims had lost and wanted them to know it.
He'd let them hope first. Let them ask — where is he, what have you done with him, where is our child? — and then he'd answered. Casually. The way you discussed ingredients in a recipe.
"The compound required a pure soul. Newborn. Untouched by the world. Your son was... perfect material. Symkyn was very pleased with the yield."
