A pair of firm hands skillfully knead dough in one of the kitchens in the Palace of Fontainebleau one bright, unseasonably warm winter morning. They belong to one of the many kitchen hands who work in this kitchen, and they are muscular, tanned limbs that gracefully shape the flexible substance into a shape desired by the kitchen hand tending to them.

The man to whom they belong has light brown hair and stubble that is lightly sprinkled across the lower half of his face. He has light eyes and a smile on his face as he listens to the remarks of a beautiful woman, Greer of Kinross, an attendant who serves the even more beautiful queen of Scotland, Mary Stuart.

“It’s got to be made of something… special. I’m thinking strawberries.” Greer states, confidently speaking on matters of which she knows nothing. The pretty girl has a head full of dreams and has been speaking to Leith for several minutes.

For more than half of the time she has been talking off the ear of the kitchen hand she has insisted on explaining to him to the nature of the Portuguese bastard child she has been flirting with; Tomas. He is, according to her, a curious and royal man who has come to court to negotiate a deal for more French timber.

“You work here. Do you have any recommendations?” Greer asks the kitchen hand, causing him to audibly chuckle, in reference to what ingredients might best help her win the affections of the man she is smitten with. This annoys Greer, her large eyes flashing with mild irritation for a split second. Nevertheless, she patiently waits for Leith to come up with an answer. He thinks about the question for a moment before he eventually responds.

“Strawberries are out of season. I know they’re what your heart desires, perhaps even what your prince desires, but it’s impossible for us to put them in this meal.” Leith tells her, causing her to sigh impatiently.

“Now… I can keep something like this quite simple but still very tasty if I use something mundane, like apples. There can be an elegance to the taste of the meal even if it is kept simple.” Leith explains, his eyes darting away from the woman as he mulls over various ways to prepare the food Greer has asked him to make.

He takes his eyes off Greer for one second, to glance at the stores of food kept in the kitchen to see if there is anything else he can recommend to the woman. What he sees when he looks in the direction of the pantry, instead of seeing food, is something well and truly supernatural, making this one of the first times in this second life of his that he sees such a thing.

Standing near the back of the kitchen, right beside the entrance to the pantry, is a stunningly beautiful raven-haired woman who studies Leith with a mischievous smile on her face. The dark-haired beauty is clad in what looks like a combat-ready corset that clings to her shapely, womanly body and leaves little to the imagination.

Leith silently appraises her, almost entranced by her beauty, but she is so strikingly out of place that he barely resists her body’s not-so-subtle attempt to completely captivate his attention due to the sheer strangeness of the situation putting him on edge. She is dressed so provocatively that he instinctually wonders if she is some new lover of the king, a man well known for his expansive lust.

“Hello master…” She says her voice a sensual whisper that stokes the man’s inner beast. For a second, he feels himself struggle to resist the urge to walk towards her and embrace her, but after wrestling with that impossible desire for a moment he successfully stays in control of himself. This also allows the man to be certain of something…

No one in the room reacts to the woman’s presence. Even when she speaks no one looks in her direction, or seems to hear her curious word choice. Leith is both smart enough and has instincts sharp enough to notice how odd that is. He manages to draw his gaze away from the enticingly beautiful woman, unsure of whether she is even real, and look at the pantry.

The pantry is well-stocked and a range of food is carefully preserved inside of it. Leith takes a mental note of a range of fruit, and smiles.

“I’m telling you, my lady, I can get you the sweetness you wish to express to your prince, but you should trust me. Regardless of whether you choose to trust me, however, there are no strawberries to put in this food. Even if you beseech the king, nay, the pope himself, there are no strawberries we can put here.” Leith tells Greer, as he turns back to face her. The strangely dressed woman is still visible in the corner of Leith’s vision. Greer is quiet for a moment before nodding at the man.

“Okay… Sure, you’re right. And you’re the… expert, I suppose. If you can find some other way to ensure that the food is as sweet as it can be, please do so.” She says, as she shakes her head causing the man to chuckle.

“You won’t regret this! Now, please go see your prince. I’ll have a servant deliver the food when it is ready.” Leith tells her, the same smile still on his face. 

“Is that woman someone you desire, master? Hmm… She is cute, I suppose.” The scantily clad woman remarks, her voice still only audible to Leith. As Greer turns to leave Leith glances at the strange woman once more. She is still there, and there is a whimsical smile on her face.

“Though she’s also so young…” The woman adds, causing Leith’s eyes to narrow in confusion. No one around the man notices this curious change in his facial expression due to how hectic the mood in the kitchen is.

Everyone is working hard, as Prince Tomas’s presence in the castle, along with his followers, causes the palace to be even more packed with nobility and royalty than it usually is. This, coupled with the fact that Leith is busily throwing himself into the work he has been asked to do, allows his unusual behavior to go unnoticed by his peers.

“Do you have something you wish to say to me, my master? I advise that you not physically speak. Such an action may well cause people to think less of you, as to them you’d just be speaking to thin air. I have observed that in this world people tend to react hostilely whenever they see such a thing.” The woman remarks, a somewhat snarky smile on her face as she giggles at her own comments.

“But I do know what you can do… Humor me, for a moment, for if you do I’ll be able to answer any questions you may have. Focus on me, master. Focus on my mind, and on yours, and on tying them together. Envision a bridge connecting them.” The woman tells the man, causing his eyes to narrow in confusion and his eyebrows to lift, a question on his lips but one that goes unspoken.

He does as she asks. He visualizes his mind, and hers as well, as two swirling, stormy oceans of thought and identity. He forms a bridge between the two of them in his mind’s eye, and he gives himself a mental avatar, a visualization of himself that he allows to appear on the bridge and cross it. As his mental avatar approaches his visualization of her mind, he begins to hear things… Alien thoughts, curious, half mad analysis of the woman’s surroundings.

Her thoughts are a chaotic hurricane of assessments and reactions. She, with surprising and serious thoughtfulness, studies everything around her, and as Leith ventures deeper and deeper to the whirling storm of thoughts at the center of her mind the more he can appreciate the beauty of her brain. Even half-mad, her thoughts are impressively witty and well-articulated, and Leith himself is smart enough to be able to understand what leads to her analysis.

“That’s it, master! I can feel you linking our minds.” She exclaims, audibly, but not in such a way that whatever technique of hers allows her to evade notice is broken. People remain unaware of her existence, even as Leith proceeds to transition from one food-based task to the next.

For several minutes Leith’s mental avatar explores the outer edges of the woman’s mind. Every step he takes teaches him more about her, and she ecstatically allows him to do this, not hiding anything from him.

Not that the thrall could resist his powers anyway, as he is existence far beyond her even in his current state, but she wishes for him to see all of her, to bare her soul before him. At times he struggles to focus because of the sheer, maddening love the woman feels for him, a love that he is exposed to as he studies her mental landscape.

During this time Leith continues his work, even finishing the order made by Greer, the lady-in-waiting that had been here earlier today. The young man, even in a state of only partial focus, is a machine when it comes to his job.

“Master, I am yours.” She mentally mutters, half-deliriously, her active thoughts projecting into his mind, as he feels this particular power become easier for him to control. The smile on her face is a warped, perverted one.

“What… are you?” Leith eventually asks her, speaking into her mind by mimicking what he saw her do and projecting his thoughts into her head. This makes her smile soften and become just a bit more normal.

“Ah… Apologies, master. You see I keep forgetting that you are and aren’t… him.” She replies, a bright smile on her face as her eyes moisten and tears run down her cheeks. And as she is studied, so too is he. What the thrall sees confirms matters both tragic and important to her, which is enough to make her a bit chatty.

“I am your thrall, master. A thrall is a servant made by the kind of vampire that you happen to be, one that is given immortality and also strengthened and purified by your powers. And you are ‘The Eldest’, a primordial being of hunger, and ambition. The first ascendant. The first sanguinarch!” The thrall reveals, with a proud smile on her face as she muses on the nature of her master’s rise to power.

“You perished, but in time you got better. You were confronted by your most ancient and implacable rivals and fought them in your innermost sanctum. You managed to both win and lose at the same time, fleeing from them but at a high cost. You died. But you also escaped, in a manner speaking.” The woman, Leith’s “Thrall” explains.

“You fled the battle, in the wake of your physical demise. You ran, and because of that choice you were able to live to fight another day, but you still paid for such a harrowing escape. In time, ages after your death and escape from your sanctum, you got well enough to reincarnate, to shove your soul into a new body and well and truly live, again.” The thrall tells Leith, her eyes filling with tears as she speaks.

“But to explain the price that you paid a price you need to understand that your escape wasn’t flawless. The damage you sustained during your fight mattered. You see, it seems that during the battle damage was done to your soul. The amount of damage you endured fighting other, primordial ascendants, would have surely extinguished any other living being.” She reveals, dropping information significant enough that even the supernaturally ignorant creature she serves can understand its most basic implications. Leith is silent as he considers this information with wide, shocked eyes.

“Now you have recovered from the basest components of the damage, but the actual consequences of said damage must not have been something you could heal from in the same way. Your memories are gone.” She explains though the tone in her voice indicates that this is equally about her telling herself that and about figuring out what to do with said information.

“Nevertheless, one cannot easily stop an ascendant. Even other ascendants cannot stop one of their peers with ease, at least when it comes to beings with the level of power that you possess. Your powers remain inside of you, simply waiting for your intent before becoming a part of you again.” The woman says, before finally stopping her verbose explanation.

Her master focuses on her mind and she gasps as she feels his presence inside of her become a more focused thing. Leith is not an educated man, but he is far from stupid, even discounting the advantages his true nature have given him so far. He begins to sift through the mind of the woman, intently looking for specific memories.

He quickly spots memories within the thrall’s mind of his old self. He sees the base form of his reincarnation and smirks as he admires the curious visual quirks and idiosyncrasies of his old form, such as his demonic and draconic scales or his aura of celestial light.

Leith’s old form was that of a humanoid creature with long limbs and a lithe build. This form took on components from all five types of ascendants, and the thrall knew this. Her mind whispers in the background as Leith explores it, and Leith is given a relatively quick summary regarding all five types of ascendants. Over the course of the morning and the early afternoon Leith is given a crash course that equips him with a rough understanding of the five types of ascendants, and despite its length this still qualifies as a barely adequate summation of all there is to know about ascendants!

He is taught about sanguinarchs, essence, and vampires. Leith is educated regarding the mighty physiques of dragon lords, how their hordes empower them, and how they earn the loyalty of non-ascendant dragons.

The man is taught about cosmic gods and their domains. Leith learns about archdemons and their sins, as well as about a multiversal overhell that existed in the universe of his origins. Finally, he learns about transynths, the newest and most unique type of ascendant, as well as the fact that he happened to be the only transynth in his native multiverse and that that was the reason why his foes banded together to stop him.

Throughout the day this knowledge subtly and not-so-subtly changes the one learning it. As Leith’s true nature is revealed to him he slowly begins to regain his once cosmic awareness. Each scrap of information taught to the young man makes his senses grow in esoteric ways, not only regaining his once lost abilities but also restoring stranger things that were lost.

This is particularly true when it comes to his domains and his sins. He regains non-physical but unbelievably vast senses that stretch so distantly far he can sense things occurring on the other side of the cosmos, so long as those things are manifestations or instances of his cosmic domains and infernal sins.

Each time an instance of one of his sins or domains occurs he can hear a soft voice in the back of his mind explain to him who is responsible for the instance, what sin or domain it is an example of, and where it occurred. These events produce energy but the energy in question is esoteric and can only be used by ascendants, particularly cosmic gods and archdemons. Most of the energy produced by these events replenishes some of his own energy or temporarily strengthens his muscles, and regardless of which occurs a tiny bit of the energy produced by the domain or sin stays in him, improving every facet of his nature albeit on an incredibly small scale.

By the time the sun begins a slow descent towards the horizon I find myself hearing the final part of the thrall’s lecture. Even as she wraps up her hours-long explanation of what she swears is my true nature, I feel the changes that have occurred to me as a result of the knowledge kept within my soul being unleashed on my mind and body continue to occur.

With every passing second, I receive billions, trillions really, notifications. Each one is different, often in seemingly minor ways, such as the uncountable number of notifications I get about births and conceptions, not just of humans but of animals, monsters, and more, but they usually aren’t tremendously different, so long as they relate to the same sin or domain.

I am quiet as I take in the truly staggering implications of everything I was just taught, and that’s without me attempting to seriously process what I just learned. Every component of myself has been tweaked, refined, and transformed by the knowledge that now suffuses my every cell.

I have awareness I could have never imagined before. I know about things like cells, and of the existence of other, distant galaxies, as well as various other celestial bodies, all of which I had absolutely no way of knowing existed before the rapid apotheosis I have just undergone. All this knowledge, coupled with my impressive self-awareness, makes me unbelievably dangerous.

“Will it all actually work?” I ask myself, referring to a scheme I came up with as my self-proclaimed “Thrall” explained to me various aspects of ascendancy.

At the same time I wander out of the castle grounds and onto the road connected to the small village of Fontainebleau, which is where I live when I am not visiting my family for a few days. Other castle staff are both ahead of and behind me, some also heading to wherever they call home during this rather busy time of the year, while others make their way to the castle to do their duty as part of the place’s night staff.

The village is not far, and I have an idea about how to put my abilities to the test in a way that is both safe and fun. Right beside me is the woman who considers herself my thrall, and she has fallen silent now.

She studies our surroundings, her perceptive gaze effortlessly noticing small things here and there. As she studies what is around us, she mentally makes various observations and I chuckle as the two of us silently make our way to the place I call home this time of year.

In the distance plumes of smoke silently rise into the air. Each step takes me closer to my destination, which is surely one of the places from which smoke escapes; a cute little brothel wherein I will fully exercise some of my new abilities and test just how effective they really are.