“You’re certain of the boy’s nature?”

The figure who spoke sat upon a throne of the blackest obsidian. Around him were tongues and wreaths of fire, dancing at the tune of screaming, tormented souls. Great leathery wings extended from the figure’s back, extending outwards like plumes of black smoke. In the distance blazed tall mountains of flame and ash. The figure himself, however, was a stark contrast to all the darkness and suffering that lay around him. Where the skies seemed to burn with an angry red, the figure’s eyes were a deep and beautiful blue, like the color of the sea. Where the land was black and ashen and barren, the figure’s skin was light and fair and radiant. His curly blonde hair swayed in the searing winds.

Victoria chuckled as she set the teacup down onto the screaming table before her, just one of the many people whom she’d turned into living furniture. This one was named Robert or some such; she wasn’t sure. “Of course I know of his true nature; it was clear from day one. The other Dark Lords and Ladies might failed to notice. I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. But I’ve felt Joseph’s presence, felt his power echoing from the great beyond. He’s using the boy as a vessel; though, I will confess to the fact that I do not know how he plans on escaping his prison. Uriel might be his vessel, but he’ll only be a passenger at best.”

“That’s interesting,” The figure hummed and gazed outwards onto the barren wasteland around them, where great flames raged eternally. “I fought him once. The Red King was a formidable opponent. Very few are capable of challenging me as he did. There are even fewer now. If Joseph were to ever return, it would be... interesting. Do you truly believe this... Uriel possesses the potential to be the next Red King?”

Victoria smiled. “I do. He’s a diamond in the rough. I picked him up myself, actually. With the proper mentoring and plenty of time to grow into his own skin, I believe he could become even greater than Joseph the Red.”

"That's high praise, coming from you, Victoria," The figure said. "There are few who deserve it; your previous mentee also possessed great potential, did he not?"

"Yes and now he's a chair," Victoria chuckled. "He was a cheeky brat, that one. He could've gone far if he hadn't tested my patience."

"Uriel, however... his potential to surpass the Red King is clear." Victoria continued. "It would be irresponsible of me not to cultivate that."  

“You witnessed Joseph's rampage, did you not? Or, at the very least, you witnessed the end of it.” The figure asked, raising a single blonde brow. “You were old enough to remember all of that, if my memory serves.”

Victoria nodded, before shrugging. She did remember, but her memory was spotty at best. “Of course. I was a little girl at the time, selling dates in the streets of Uruk. I was there when Joseph was cast down by the Host of the Pantheons. Though, I can’t quite recall how everything came to be. It was a spectacle of the ages, the day the gods came from the heavens and bla bla bla.”

The figure across her humphed. The roaring, screaming flames around his obsidian throne intensified. Victoria glanced down and raised a brow at the tormented sinners. A few of them were familiar faces. “I would like to tell you a secret, Victoria, something no one else knows. The simple truth is that Joseph the Red was easily more powerful than all the earthly gods, combined. He could’ve killed them all if he wished. No, Joseph the Red wanted to lose. Why... I do not know.”

Victoria shrugged again. In truth, she cared little for the Red King’s life or his reasons. His knowledge was unsurpassed and whatever he’d written down were known to be priceless artifacts across the breadth of Agartha. Wars were sometimes fought over them, even the barest notes on Flesh-Crafting or Alchemy. Victoria never understood why, however. She’d read the Red King’s personal journal, that flesh-bound book that often screamed in the Shadow Academy’s library, wailing in anger and sometimes laughed. She’d sacrificed her own skin, quite literally, to read a few pages of it and... it really wasn’t anything too special. Sure, it raised her understanding of the Flesh Arts to new heights, but she hadn’t learned anything she would not have learned on her own, given enough time to explore and experiment. The simple truth was that the Red King was not one to share his knowledge willingly. The notes and books he left behind were some of the basest and barest of arcane lore that any Dark Mage worth their salt would have no trouble following.

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“I hardly find myself caring for the intricately laden plans of Dark Mages, new or ancient,” Victoria sighed, before taking another sip of the tea before her. It was good tea – some powdered variant from Japan. It was a favorite among the Dark Mages there. “I’ve removed myself from all of that long ago. Politics bores me; it used to be fun, but now I find it mostly distasteful. Though, it’s so much easier when most of my enemies have long since been turned into furniture, like this poor bastard over here.”

The figure chuckled. “Yes, those chairs you’ve gifted me are... exquisite. Their endless screams remind me of the most beautiful music; your creations are marvelous, Victoria. And true, Dark Mage politics is... tiresome; I have lost count of how many of your... fellows have beseeched my aid for one reason or another, though usually to get rid of a rival or some such.”

Victoria snorted. “Many of my fellows are idiots. All they know to do is scheme and kill and scheme and kill endlessly, a certain road to wrath and ruin – eternal. In a way, I envy the Light Mages; they certainly seem happier, at least. I join them at times, you know, donning a robe of white and masking the nature of my magic; it is child’s play. There, I observe. At times, I indulge myself and join them in their merriment. Their Neophytes laugh... and behave like... normal children. If I was given a choice, in another life perhaps, I would’ve chosen to be among them, even if I would be weaker in body and in magic.”

The figure nodded. “Indeed; though, enough about the Followers of the Light. What do you intend to do about the boy? You can’t hide him forever. The Dark Council will know of him soon enough and even you, Victoria, as powerful and respected as you are among the Dark Mages, can’t stand alone against them. The Sons of Fenrir and the Children of Caine will come for him when they find him. There are many who would stop at nothing to have the Red King’s vessel under their control. The Shadow Academy is not as well-defended as your Dark Council believes; what will you do, then?”

Victoria smiled. “That’s why I’m here, actually; I’d like to call in a favor.”

The figure raised a brow. “Oh? How could I possibly help? I’m sworn to neutrality, remember? The Host of Hell may not draw arms until the Seven Seals are broken and the Four Horsemen are unleashed for the End War.”

“But you can lay claim to him, can you not?” Victoria grinned. “You can brand his soul with your mark.”

“Ah,” The figure chuckled. “I see; you intend for me to become his shield from other higher powers – smart. But are you certain you’d spend a favor for this? You’ve not many left.”

“T’is worth it,” Victoria’s grin faded, replaced with a grim resolution. “The boy has potential; I have no wish to see it wasted in politics.”

The figure nodded and shrugged. His bat-like wings furled behind him as he stood up and walked towards the still-screaming table. He then grabbed a cup of tea and drank it. The slight smile at the edge of his lips indicated his enjoyment of the mortal beverage. “Very well, Victoria, I will grant you this favor; bring the boy to me and I will mark him. Though, I’m only doing this because I’m curious.”

“Curious?”

“Yes,” The figure sat down across her, taking a seat on a crying chair that used to be a political rival. “I know you won’t tell me; so, I won’t bother asking. But I am curious as to your real connection to the boy. I am the Prince of Lies, Victoria; you hid it well, but I am not so easily fooled. Still, I won’t pry; your business is your own.”

“I’ll bring the boy here,” Victoria replied almost abruptly as she stood up. “Thank you for your time, Lucifer.”

“I’ve enjoyed our little talk as well, Victoria,” The Devil replied. “And, as always, you’re welcome to visit my realm whenever you wish.”