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~ Void Emperor.
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~ Shadow Copy One/Corvus Black - POV ~
~ 12 Grimmauld Place, London ~
Devouring and supplanting someone else's soul, if I had to compare it to something relatable, is like updating both the software and hardware of a computer. Maybe the casing is familiar but both the computing and the ability of the machine are no longer comparable to what it once was. Maybe a more apt comparison would be like a lame, sickly, dying mule suddenly becoming a Mearas from the Lord of the Rings series.
The Mearas are a legendary, regal breed of wild horses in J.R.R. Tolkien's Middle-earth. Hailing from Rohan, they are famed for their silver-grey or white coats, near-human intelligence, extended lifespans, and the ability to understand the speech of Men. They would only allow kings, princes of Rohan, or Gandalf to ride them. Making my comparison a bit more conceivable.
As far as comparisons go though, it's nothing like when Maegor created the original body back in Westeros. For one, Maegor had the full might of Amatsu-Mikaboshi's reality warping power and created, or more aptly developed a fetus inside our mothers womb that would be a perfect fit for our soul. Devouring and supplanting another soul on the other hand is a lot less complicated. The only thing I really needed to do was to devour the core of his, Corvus', being, the very essence of his soul. After that is just my own essence, a sliver of my true soul, assimilating and developing into the body, which was done before the first light of dawn crept over the eastern horizon.
As that was happening, the assimilating not the coming dawn, I lay in what is now my bed going over Corvus' memories of the last time years. All ten years of his life. From his birth to the last thought he had in his mind before his mother turned in for the night last night.
Corvus Pollux Black was born April 18th, 1973 here in 12 Grimmauld Place to Lord and Lady of the House of Black, Orion and Walburga Black. Corvus grew up not really knowing both of his older siblings, more Sirius than Regulus since Regulus was still attending Hogwarts at the time, and because of the age gap between them. Also because of the whole war between Voldemort and the British magical society was heating up during that time.
Growing up with both of his of his brothers on the opposite sides of the conflict didn't help much in getting to know them either. At least in Sirius' case, who was already estranged from the family, it was impossible to get to know him. On the other hand, Regulus was another matter altogether. Regulus didn't truly have a choice in the matter of which side to choose; only being a decade older than Corvus, and sides already being formed, Regulus was forced by his family, mainly Walburga and Bellatrix; to side with Voldemort and his Death Eaters.
Corvus, of course being a child at the time, was largely left out of those family discussions. Not that it stopped Walburga from trying to indoctrinate him into their pure-blood ideals and their hyping of their great and powerful Lord, Voldemort. Not that it came to pass. In 1981, Voldemort was defeated by a one year old child, and the war was nearly over. Yet, even though they had lost, Walburga was delusional and mad enough to hold onto the belief that the Dark Lord would rise again, starting up the madness of pure-bloods superiority again.
Not that it matters much anymore, Walburga should be dying by now and I'll be free to use the resources of the House of Black as I see fit soon enough. As long as my new guardian doesn't try to supplant me. But from my new memories of him I know I'll never have to worry about that.
When I was finally done with my assimilating and reviewing of my inherited memories, I decided to take care of Walburgas corpse and getting in touch with my new guardian as soon as possible. That way I can spend the rest of these months before Hogwarts claiming my heirship of the House of Black and getting into contact Gellert to get an update on his progress.
"Kreacher!" I yelled out for the elderly House-elf of the Black family. With a quiet crack of displaced space, a small, hunchbacked elf with a heavily wrinkled face, a bulbous snout-like nose, and watery-grey, bloodshot eyes appeared near my bed. He has large, bat-like ears that sprout tufts of white hair and is wearing a filthy, tattered loincloth-like rag.
"Kreacher be answering to the young master of the great House of Black. What is master Corvus be needing from Kreacher?" Kreacher says as he answers in his nasaly voice to my summons.
Good to know that he can't tell that I'm no longer the same person I was last night. Having to kill him or dismiss him would have been a setback, not a large one, but a setback nonetheless and one I'm glad to not have to go through.
"Kreacher, inform my mother that I am feeling a lot better this morning and prepare a large breakfast for me today, I'm feeling quite ravenous this morning." I command, acting as I don't know that Walburga is already dying in her bed at this moment yet still keeping to her teachings of pure-blood etiquette.
Kreacher bows to me as I'm sat up in bed before disappearing with a soft crackling of space to carry out my order. I hadn't taken more than two steps from my large canopied bed before Kreacher reappeared next to me looking quite in a hurry and frightened.
"Young master Corvus, Mistress not be looking OK this morning, Mistress be shaking and does not hear Kreacher! What is Kreacher to do?" He says quickly and without composure.
Instead of answering him I act worried and start running through the door and down the hallway to my 'mother's' room. Bypassing moving portraits of passed Black family members, some calling out in reproaches for my unseemly conduct but not stopping to placate them.
Finally arriving at the master bedroom at the end of the hallway I rush in while quickly turning the knob of the door. The master bedroom is larger than my own and filled with what you would expect from a pure-blood wizarding family stuck in the 19th century. Just a lot more magical in nature.
But I don't pay any attention to it at the moment and rush to the bedside. I come upon Walburga on the left side of the King-sized bed in the middle of a stroke that should be ending soon.
Still acting like a dutiful yet frazzled and panicking son that I should be, I reached out to take Walburgas hand and called out to Kreacher to give him orders.
"Kreacher, Kreacher! Quickly call a, um, um, a medi-witch, yes a medi-witch now! And fetch my great-grandfather, Arcturus Black, tell him something has happened to mother! Quickly now, Kreacher, medi-witch first then my great-grandfather, go!" God I'm a good actor, I almost believe myself to be a panicked and frightened son giving orders to save his mother. Kreacher, who had Apparated next to me to keep up with me, Dissapparated to go carry out my order.
Sadly it would be to late as Walburga Black would be dead before the medi-witch, the wizarding world equivalent to a doctor, would arrive just minutes after she expires.
Arcturus Black III would arrive after and if all goes according to plan, would become my new guardian.
~