Aleksei hadn't intended to die when he did.  That morning, the child Mauvis had done a sloppy job of mopping his brow, which the King had enjoyed greatly, as it gave him the opportunity to gaze at the boy's rosy little cheeks and pout of concentration as the new chamberlain-in-training reached across the bed with the sponge.  The child was wearing his little white shirt, and his little brown curls stuck out over his funny little ears, and all the while he showed absolutely no signs of temptation by the purple venom.
     The contentment didn't last. Less than an hour after Mauvis had left him, the venom began to tug at his body again.  Aleksei felt it like a pulse, a throb of energy that tried to push his spirit out of his body and into that agonizing state of mental paralysis where he seemed to lie flat in the air over himself, unable to turn his head so that he could see what his body did beneath him.  But he could hear the sounds.  And he had seen what had been left of Vasha and Vessek after his body had finished with them.
     Aleksei whimpered, disgusted by his weakness against this overwhelming desire that made him think he had enjoyed what he had done to his sons.
     "SEN BYRNAE!" he roared, trying to funnel his anger against the building lust.  "BYRNAE!  I NEED YOU NOW!"  He sat up and took in a great breath of air to yell again, and his vision faded out.  Not to black, as it usually did, but this time everything seemed washed out and white.  Things seemed to slant and bend at strange angles.  He tried to climb out of bed and fell, smashing his head against the floor.  "SEN!"
The attendants came running and picked him up, trying to put him back into the bed, but he struggled too much, pleased that he could generate enough strength to give them at least that much difficulty.
     "My Dear. King. Alekseidir."  Sen Byrnae had finally entered, and he was clapping in mock appreciation.  "Look at you.  This time you've managed to fall out of bed."
Aleksei realised how pathetic he looked.  Wearing a white nightshirt stained with sweat, half his hair falling out of his braid, unshaven, he stood on one foot while suspended between two servants who held his arms, and a third who had one of his legs.  In contrast, Byrnae was neatly dressed in a gold and black robe made of stiff fabric with pleats around his waist that barely moved as he walked, a starched white shirt, grey gloves and matching boots.  His grizzled hair was shorn to half an inch all over his head, and he never wore a beard.  The deep creases around his eyes and mouth only made him seem more dignified.
     "You insolent pig.  I'll have you whipped."
     "Certainly, My King.  If you can muster the ability to give the order.  And then, I wish you the best of luck in finding another doctor who will tolerate your tantrums.  Put him back in bed, will you?  And change the sheets.  It smells in here."
     Aleksei gasped and wrenched against the hold of the servants, who released him as soon as he was over the bed.  He turned his face into the pillows to hide the changes that would be coming over his features as another of the energy pulses surged within him.
     "I can give you more laudanum," said Byrnae.
     "No," Aleksei rasped through the pillow.  "It's the blood.  Take the blood."
     "Why the blood?  And what blood?  You hardly have any."
     "It's the blood that curses me!  Take it, I tell you!"
     "Will you at least try the laudanum?
     "It takes me faster when I lose my mind!  I've told you this, damn you!  Why won't you listen to me?"
     "When . . . you lose your mind?"
     "You pig!"
     "Well if you won't take the laudanum, then there is nothing I can do for you."  Byrnae turned on his heel and left the room, pausing only to speak to the servants.  "Keep it dark and quiet in here.  Earth knows that doesn't do much to keep him from being over-stimulated, but do it anyway."
     Aleksei got off the bed and crouched in a corner, waiting for the servants to change the linens.  He shuddered against the increasing intensity of the energy pulses, first trying to shut them out, then to let them pass through his being harmlessly, and neither approach was working.  He tried, tried to resist, but the pressure was building, he could feel his mind drifting upwards from where he felt it should be, and he could smell a woman's flesh somewhere nearby.
     His eyes snapped open to see that one of the chambermaids had knelt in front of him, holding out a small, metal cup that he knew would contain Byrnae's laudanum.  The attendants had gone.  The girl was clearly terrified, yet had that same resolute set to her mouth that Mauvis wore when he was determined to serve, no matter what.
     What have I done to deserve such loyalty? Aleksei wondered.  For her sake, he took the cup while he still had the control to do so, and tipped the contents into his mouth and forced himself to swallow it.  The purple venom was going to take him anyway, and at least if he did this, the girl would leave peacefully, thinking she had done her duty and he wouldn't have to yell to make her go.
     His mind loosened with the drug, slipping more easily into that strange paralysed state in which it felt as though he floated blindly above himself.  His body twitched as it picked up the scent of its next prey.  The girl!  Oh Earth, was it going to hunt down here?  Why did it not go to the surface?  Aleksei struggled to his feet, trying to climb onto the furniture and out through the skylight before it was too late.  The Beast within him was rapidly gaining control, and jumped back to the floor, landing on all fours.  He could feel his body beginning to morph into the hunter's shape - his heels stretching up into knees, haunches tightening, shoulders becoming ridged, back humped, fingers folding into paws, mouth stretching wide.
     The memory of Kai's death and the look of abject misery on Mauvis’ face when it had happened brought him back to his senses as it flashed through what was left of his mind.  Aleksei summoned the pain of that moment and used the hazy control of his vision it lent him to creep slowly across the room until he found a knife, which he drew across his ankles to let the blood flow out and weaken the beast.  It really was the only thing that worked.  Pleased that he finally felt the power of the Beast fading, Aleksei contentedly sat in the middle of the white tiled floor, watching the red pool spread out underneath him.  He knew that soon he should bind his wounds to stop the bleeding, but he felt so very tired, and was so relieved that he had managed to avert disaster, that he thought he could just let himself rest for a moment.  He fell asleep, then died.
     For a short time, Aleksei did know peace, but even devoid of blood, he could never completely pass over into death, because the ravages of the venom and the actions it had forced him to left his spirit accursed.  So he floated some distance from his body, unable to detach himself completely.  Trapped, but utterly satisfied that the energy pulses could no longer control his physical self.
     The funeral was grand, and he was well pleased with its splendour.  The music had been specially composed for this event, and played for over an hour, serene and ponderous.  The odd colour scheme of white and black was strangely appealing, and unexpectedly, Sulandor and her father came from the North to pay their respects, their entourage bringing fine gifts for the Royal House and decorations for his tomb.  The only regret Aleksei had was that the child Mauvis threw himself to the ground in rage and cried bitterly the entire time, with no consideration for the musicians' efforts.  It was the first he had ever seen Mauvis not behave like the young gentleman he always seemed, and Aleksei wished he could pick up the small form from the ground and quiet him with caresses.  Vladdir knelt next to Mauvis and covered the child's body with his own to prevent him from being removed, but it still did not stop the little one's howling.
When the processions were over, and Aleksei was sealed in his casket, he still couldn't leave.  It was like lying in bed unable to fall asleep, but he accepted this.  It would be enough, and he was content.
     Thirty years later, the old King was forced to end his contemplation of the peaceful runes inscribed on the inside of his casket lid, and again think about the outside world.  His House had been laid to ruin, his tomb had been plundered, and the heavy rings and other ornaments of death had been removed from his corpse - all because of this black/green man from the Desert who had already caused him so much grief with his purple venom.  Aleksei stumbled from his broken tomb in search for a new resting place where he could again lie undisturbed, but it was difficult for him to move, so he searched for fluid, yet all he could find was still not enough to soak into his deadened limbs and restore his body.  He finally found some measure of peace in an underground tributary of the Yrati River and nestled himself amongst tree roots that cradled him gently against the soft tugging of the water.  At least now he had some privacy from the marauding Aragoths.  It was quiet, and despite evidence to the contrary, he still thought of himself as fully dead and didn't really want to engage in any sort of activity.
     The problem with running water is that its form is similar to flowing blood, and lost spirits who are trying to find their way to the afterlife are constantly being attracted to and diving into it, some of them being idiots who are unable to figure out that it is an energy stream, not a liquid stream, in which they need to swim.  These unpleasant entities find it necessary to disturb other things in the water to ask for directions.  Sometimes it was possible for Aleksei to just ignore them, and they would go bother the tree roots or snails.  Some were more persistent, even rude despite Aleksei's former rank, demanding to know what made him think he was so special that he need not answer.  He was as dead as everyone else.  To alleviate his irritation, the old King would drag himself out of the water, go find the physical remains of whatever spirit was bothering him and destroy it, so that the entity would finally find its fins and dart away into the aether like it was supposed to.  Some would thank him as they left, others were too stupid.  While this practise would often buy Aleksei some immediate peace, he eventually became known as one who could break connections with this world, and when things in the Desert were asked for directions, they would tell various entities to seek him out.  At least his reputation for being cantankerous ensured that he would be approached with respect, and sometimes with gifts.
     Over the last few weeks, there had been several unnatural shifts in the Earth, the vibrations of which were more pronounced in the water.  Aleksei's mind became aroused enough to feel concern when he eventually realised that it was his sons who were causing the disturbances.
     Now he heard an unnatural call from Vladdir summoning him from his watery grave.  No, not him.  It summoned anything that was dead and buried in the ground.  How troubling.  Aleksei decided he still felt responsibility towards Vlad in this strange afterlife and again shifted himself out of the tree roots.  Angry nonetheless, he let the underground water push and swell, sending his form bobbing just under the surface of the waves.  There were others who answered the call alongside him, crashing into him with complete lack of dignity as they struggled awake and began to flail.  Such creatures should have been granted eternal rest.  Why were there so many?  And what business did Vladdir have with the dead?  After a moment, he realised that all these were Aragoths.
     Finding himself wedged beneath the Travellers’ Oasis cavern, Aleksei gathered the will to move against the water which kept pushing him under an outcropping of rock, and his stone-encrusted bones rose up from one of the wells along with a few of the Aragoths.  A gurgled chuckle escaped him as he imagined the reaction of some traveller finding so many dead things in the drinking water.  His black armour fell from him as he stepped heavily onto the ground, so that he only wore his black hair and tattered remnants of his burial clothes, dripping across his shrivelled frame.  His knees did not bend easily, yet he would not crawl beneath the Earth like an insect, so he lumbered across the surface as the Desert wind thieved every last bit of moisture he had vainly tried to bind.  He could no longer move, paralysed like a grim signpost between the lands of the living and the dead.
     As he was now unable to respond through movement, when the call strengthened Aleksei slid as a statue across the dusty rock towards a broken cliff, atop of which stood his second last son, arms raised, standing rigid against the forceful wind, mouth opened with voiceless sound.  He looked very much like a Desert King with his blouse and silver chest plate sculpted to fit around his stone arm, his hair the colour of the writhing grey dust-ridden sky, and the coarse filigree of the armour wrapped around his leather boots and lower legs clearly visible even at a distance.