It had taken the might of the Reaper himself to rip Azrael's soul from his body and cast him into the SoulStream, where he was doomed to drift in aimless reflection until his spirit was cleansed. But this was no light sentence. No... The gods had seen the monstrous power at Azrael's command, had witnessed firsthand his unquenchable hunger and the devastation wrought by his hand. Their judgment was severe; the sorcerer was to be trapped within the Stream until his very essence began to decay. It would take centuries, perhaps millennia for his soul to succumb to the influences of that ethereal realm, to begin to shed its vast, malevolent aura...

And perhaps he may have remained in that roiling prison until his name had long since faded from the annals of history, perhaps his heinous crimes against mortals and the gods alike would have dulled into mere legend and cautionary myth...if a certain would-be necromancer hadn't tapped into the primeval channels of life energy in search of his own destiny.

Seizing his opportunity for escape as soon as he sensed the outstretched hand leading back to the living realm, Azrael tore through the rift at Corbin's beck and called upon his sorcerous energy to forge himself a new body to house his wicked soul, weaving the shadows themselves into a shape to his liking.

All too late, Corbin began to realize his folly, sickened by the malefic aura he'd unleashed. In desperation, he tried to collapse the array, tried to seal the portal he'd opened, tried to force the overwhelming evil back from whence it had come. But the summoning was complete; the SoulEater had returned.




TL;DR: YA DONE GOOFED, CORBIN.

Follow-up piece to The Ritual.

I had entirely too much fun drawing these... :P

Corbin and Azrael belong to TideKeeper.

Do not steal them. I'll go through all the jars in your house and replace the contents with angry hornets.