Iskara Drazhal stabs a purple grape with the tip of her index claw while resting in the room of a private villa.

  The skin breaks with a wet, audible pop. She doesn’t lift it immediately. She watches the dark juice bleed out onto the pristine white ceramic of the plate, pooling like a miniature wound. Slowly, deliberately, she raises the claw to her mouth, her eyes never leaving the figure sitting in the shadows across the table.

  The Infernal in front of her does not breathe. He does not fidget. He is a creature of stillness, wrapped in robes that seem to drink the ambient light of the room.

  “Sweet?” the Infernal asks. His voice sounds like grinding stones.

  “Bitter,” Iskara says, crushing the fruit between her teeth. She swallows, the taste lingering like a bad memory.

  “I’m surprised you can source our homeland’s fruit so easily from Ytrial,” the Infernal says.

  He has a sweet, deep voice. He leans forward, finally allowing the lamp’s glow to touch his face, and the illusion of the shadow dissolves.

  He is not what she would have expected from such a man, some kind of sick being with fire in his eyes, jagged horns, and rot dripping from his skin.

  He is, quite simply, the most magnificent man Iskara has ever seen.

  His jaw is carved from marble. His hair is a cascade of burnished gold, tied back loosely to reveal high, noble cheekbones. He wears a tunic of snowy white embroidered with silver thread.

  He looks like a savior. He looks like the hero of every song Iskara heard growing up.

  That’s why she can’t reconcile his appearance with the fact that he’s a Dark Champion.

  “Tell me again why I shouldn’t take your life here and now.”

  “First, milady, your Highness,” the Infernal says with a sultry, seductive voice, “you simply can’t.”

  Iskara feels a shiver running down her spine, feeling deep power coming from the man.

  He’s stronger than me, she realizes in an instant.

  There’s something in his eyes that unsettles her, something she cannot read.

  “Second,” he says, relaxing and falling back into the chair, showing pointy, sharp canines when he laughs, “I am here to help.”

  “I already know that your people are trying to turn us. Jacob told us as much.”

  “Oh, it was actually our Leader’s idea when she heard that your Jacob wanted to turn us.”

  Iskara frowns.

  “He believes he can turn the Dark Champions?” She almost cannot believe such naivete.

  “It turns out, we have much more we can offer to you and your friends than he can to us—or to you, for what matters. In fact, I know about the oath that was forced upon you.”

  The Infernal stands. He moves with a fluid, predatory grace, circling the table until he stands just behind her chair. Iskara stiffens, her claws digging slightly into the wood, but she doesn't pull away.

  He slowly puts his hands on her cushioned chair.

  “Your very parents took your freedom. Your mother humiliates you and took everything from you. I even know that she threatened to take your Rainbow Skill. You, the fated one, holding our greatest Ancestor’s Skill—Lucifer’s Veins.”

  “How?” Iskara whispers. “How do you know?”

  “Our Prophet was once an Infernal, and he maintains a certain interest in our kind. And he was angry knowing what they were doing to you.”

  The wood creaks as the man’s claws strangle it.

  Iskara suddenly jumps out of the chair, turning at him.

  “Even if you know, what does that matter? Such an oath cannot be broken.”

  “You think so?” The Infernal replies with a warm smile. “Do you think that the greatest follower of Asmodeus cannot take on such a little oath?”

  “And what should I do in return, pledge my soul to a monster?” Iskara frowns. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

  “Pledge your soul?” The Infernal laughs. “Do you know that no one among the Dark Champions has taken any oaths? We do it for a greater cause, Iskara Drazhal, Your Highness.”

  “You must be lying,” Iskara frowns. “I am not. In fact, I come bearing a gift.”

  Before Iskara can even realize the man moved, he briefly touches her cheekbones with the tip of his fingers.

  Iskara feels a soul-rending pain for several instants, falling to the ground, squirming, and then, she can finally breath again. And this time, her whole body feels a profound sense of relief.

  “This can’t be…” Iskara says. “You…”

  “That was it. The oath is broken, Iskara Drazhal. The Prophet gave me a spell to pass upon you. And I did so. Now, you’re free.”

  “Why would you do this for nothing in return?” She says. “I’m not going to—”

  “I know,” he replies. “I’m not trying to force you. I’m just telling you, if you join us, we’ll give you everything you deserve. We’ll help you topple your own Kingdom and take control of it—allow you to reign upon it with justice. You’ll be free to break the chains that bound you and,” the man pauses for a moment. “Your brother. I mentored Azrakel. His greed for power, sadly, blinded him. But you, you are different.”

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  “You knew Azrakel?” Iskara frowns. “You killed him!”

  “Jacob Cloud did, technically,” the man replies.

  “Azrakel tried to kill us because you brainwashed him. Jacob only protected me.”

  “What a mighty hero this Jacob must be,” the Infernal says in a mocking laugh. “Well, if you want to keep being protected, stay.”

  The Infernal turns, but then stops.

  “Oh, and I forgot. The Prophet also saw through your eyes that Jacob already knows that you’re going to betray him. He said so himself.”

  “He doesn’t know anything,” Iskara shoots back.

  “Oh, I know that much,” the Infernal man says. “But you won’t be able to start a war while you’re a Champion. You won’t be able to have your revenge. This Academy is governed by a tyrant. My God? My God leaves us complete freedom to do as we see better. So, if you ever want to join the better side, we’ll be humiliating your Champion friends during the dueling tournament held in two weeks. If you want to join us, just take this.”

  The Infernal man leaves a dark seed on the table.

  “I know that right now you don’t have enough power to challenge your mother,” the Infernal says softly. “But this? This is a blessing from my God. It is a vessel. It will give you the strength of a Titan. We just ask you that you help us liberate this world from tyrants in return.”

  Iskara warily picks up the seed and looks at it.

  “You’re free to choose, now,” the Infernal man says and turns away.

  “Wait!” Iskara says. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

  “Wait!” Iskara says, her voice echoing slightly in the large room. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

  The figure stops at the threshold of the shadows. He doesn't turn around fully. He simply glances back over his shoulder, the light catching the sharp, beautiful angle of his jaw and that perfect golden hair.

  He smiles, and it is a slow, languid expression—the look of a man who knows he has already won the game, even if the opponent hasn't realized it yet.

  “Names are for friends, Iskara,” he purrs, his voice wrapping around her like velvet. “And we are not friends. Not yet.”

  He steps fully into the darkness, his white tunic swallowed by the gloom.

  * * *

  Iskara, still pondering the offer, holding the dark seed while in her robe’s pocket while she’s back at the Academy’s dorm, suddenly feels a pull.

  One moment, she’s surrounded by her Squires, pondering what to do, the next, she’s a freezing cold mountain plateau, surrounded by howling wind.

  In front of her, there’s a Jacob soaked in mud and dirt.

  “Hey,” he says with a smile, slightly shivering from the cold. “What’s up?”

  “Where are we?” Iskara frowns, looking at the massive plateau.

  “Well, you remember a while ago when I took Rafnov’s Trial in the Celestial Tower and you guys were all there? I mean, you still got the Platinum equipment on you, right?”

  Iskara just stares at Jacob.

  “So, I have this other Trial. It’s sort of a continuous combat situation. I need to protect that massive crystal there,” Jacob points to a towering obelisk of pulsating quartz jutting out of the frost-bitten rock about a hundred feet behind him. “The Trial is simple: monsters come from the edges of the plateau. They want to smash it. If it breaks, I fail. If it survives for the duration, I pass. The catch is that the plateau will heal you after every monster wave. However, the monsters are very hard to kill and there are too many.”

  Iskara looks at the crystal. Despite its size, it looks fragile. Exposed.

  “And you brought me here to...”

  “I can bring one helper. And you’re the fastest, most efficient warrior I know.”

  He looks at her, and his eyes are infuriatingly warm despite the howling wind.

  “I could have asked anyone else but… I met The Sacrifice.”

  Iskara stiffens.

  The Sacrifice is part of her family’s plan to hunt down Jacob. They’re ready to, well, sacrifice him in order to kill Jacob. Once he gets expelled from the Academy, under the protection of the Headmaster or not, the Headmaster would not have proper recourse against their kingdom, only against The Sacrifice.

  “What about him?” Iskara frowns.

  “Listen,” Jacob sighs. “I know you’re strong. But I also that if that guy came here, it’s not unlikely that your family wants me dead. Am I wrong?”

  Iskara tries not to react, but she probably fails, because Jacob grimaces.

  “Thought so. So, I know you’ll need power, right? And,” he sighs and scratches his head. “They must have done something to you. An oath? Something? I don’t know. I have been informed that the oath shouldn’t be able to kill you or compel you that strongly or otherwise the Headmaster would have noticed it. Don’t look at me like that, I got a few friends that are old and know a bunch of stuff. So, I got a little reward from another Trial, and I was thinking, if you don’t mind, to use one of these rewards for you.”

  “What?” Iskara is confused, looking at the young man covered in dirt and soot from head to toe.

  “Iskara, I can break your oath. It’s going to cost me a little, but nothing I can’t take. And if your family was to unleash the devil guy after us… this is the perfect opportunity to get stronger. This entire trial, the i, is made for us to level up and grow stronger. By the end of it, we could probably, together, take care of that guy like we did with your crazy brother.”

  * * *

  From the side, hidden in a dimensional fold, the Mithril Golem sighs.

  You would sacrifice a drop of Star Metal on someone who wants to betray you, Jacob Cloud. I don’t even know why I told you. You had me stop the entire Trial to bring this girl, another girl who wants your demise.

  Do you even understand what kind of boon you’re giving away?

  The Mithril Golem shakes his head.

  * * *

  “Jacob, you’re making little sense,” Iskara frowns.

  “Alright, listen, maybe your oath works such as that it cannot let you talk about it. Let me just say this, so maybe it will be clearer. I’m here for you, Iskara. We’re friends. The Dark Champions are coming in two weeks to humiliate us. Initially, I thought I’d only bring Vyrrak around. But now, I know that this Trial could make us both strong enough to tackle the Dark Champions. With your buffs, I wouldn’t have to rely on this crazy plan I hatched before. Well, not in the same way…”

  Jacob sighs.

  “Look, I’m digressing. What I’m trying to say is, join this Trial with me. We’ll become stronger, then, I’ll break your oath. We kick the Dark Champions to the curb, then this devil guy, then whoever else is in our way.”

  The Leader of Champions extends a hand.

  “We split the rewards 50-50. The energy inside that crystal? Half of it is yours. We just have to wait until we kill every single wave, then we smash it together, and we take the power inside. It should be enough to push yourself forward by years. Maybe enough to help with... you know. Your situation.”

  Iskara stares at his hand.

  Jacob is offering her half.

  The Infernal offered her everything.

  He is offering to help with her situation.

  The Infernal offered to end it.

  Iskara looks at the crystal again.

  “50-50,” Iskara says, forcing the corners of her mouth up into the smile she practiced in the mirror. She takes his hand. His grip is solid and trusting. “Sounds fair.”

  “Great,” Jacob grins, releasing her and turning toward the edge of the plateau where the shadows are beginning to writhe. “Get ready. The next wave starts soon.”

  Iskara steps up beside him.

  I’m sorry, Jacob. This is a great offer. But… I can see that you’re too good. What I want is much, much dirtier than the world I see in your eyes.

  Iskara’s hand brushes against the seed in her pocket.

  "I'm ready," she lies and looks at the crystal behind them. “And thank you, Jacob. Thank you for everything.”