To some, true darkness is rarely seen, only referenced. Not all can see that which lurks in the shadows, but all may fall prey to assuming there is always something there.

After all, when you know that which you cannot grasp exists, it’s only natural to fear it must be working against you.

For Nikola, returning to consciousness was beyond disorienting. He felt as though he were back on the well—lost, adrift, and on the edge of drowning. Strange fabrics rubbed against his skin, some silken where others were chafing, and he winced.

Finding he could not truly pull away, his back against something solid, only added to his panic. Though standing, he might as well have been buried with how difficult it was to move. He suspected his inability to see or even shift in place was tied to the demon rather than circumstance, as something heavy yet intangible clung to him.

Quiet, boy. They may find us yet, if you continue making a fuss about it.

A chill went through Nikola’s spine, his eyes widening. It all rushed back to him, then—how he’d gone from hesitating to aid Edmund, to obeying a demon’s command.

It was more of a suggestion. The outcome would have been horrid for the both of us, but, strictly speaking, it was a suggestion.

Perhaps it was the daze of sleep that had shaken something within his mind, but Nikola found he felt more disturbed by the demon’s presence than he had at any point before. While a part of him believed the thing within would not harm him so long as it needed him, that did not count for much.

Still, he had bigger concerns for the time being—he remembered Edmund, the footsteps. Still groggy, he nearly opened his mouth to ask, before the demon’s warning caught up to him. How were they to discuss this, when the danger was not yet gone?

I have an understanding of what you think, albeit rarely in the sense of words. Think, as you would to yourself, but try to visualize saying what you would to me. Simply keep your lips from moving as you do.

Nikola couldn’t help the frown that crossed his features. Was the demon suggesting he should imagine himself speaking? He did not allow the tension to leave his expression, in part due to his physical discomfort, as he tried his best to imagine speaking. He felt his cheeks tingle, a faint, mostly inaudible humming at his throat. …as if…

Not bad for a first attempt. I have seen worse. In any case, I can already tell what you wished to discuss—but the burden of this cannot fall only to me. You are responsible, to the same extent as me, now.

I did not… ask for any of… this. Nikola took a deep breath. It seemed speaking like this took a toll on him, despite this barely being his second attempt. He felt short of breath, each word he shaped with naught but imagination feeling like he was trying to pass rocks through the smallest of funnels. Circumstances brought us together, but I will not act… as though I had been a witting… or willing… participant in any of this.

Suit yourself, the demon replied, and Nikola could have sworn he got the impression of a shrug from the message. As for Edmund Adianoeta—you had your doubts about him already, from what I know of your thoughts.

Of course I did. Nikola paused. He always… meant to backstab me… did he not?

I know not—my senses are nearly limited to yours at the moment. But I suspect there is more than one party involved in this, what with what your memories tell me. The one they call Maria acted without her husband’s blessing.

Nikola couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that phrasing. In their short time speaking to each other, he could not recall the demon ever having gone around the naming of someone like that—and one of the most circulated facts about demons was that they were quite careful with names. Are you implying her name is not Maria, demon?

I am implying the thing you see now is not the woman I caught sight of all those years ago. None of them are, save for Edmund, the demon explained. If any should be fretting over the possibility of being warped, it should be them. They could atone for a millennium and yet, they would never recover the humanity they lost.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Curious, that you would care about such things, Nikola noted. He leaned against the back of the wardrobe intentionally now—the clothes did not bother him as much, not when he was on the verge of passing out.

It is not that I care—simply that it is relevant. The benefits we get are directly tied to the quality of our suppliers, as it is through them that we get what we want, and for a long time now, despite them using my power, it has netted me nothing at all.

Nikola meant to ask something upon the end of that sentence, but his eyes fluttered shut before he could. Distantly, he had an awareness of his back sliding against wood, of the bending of his knees.

His eyes opened to a feathery gown brushing against his nose, and Nikola sneezed.

Welcome back, the demon’s tone could have been described as cheery. Just in time.

That immediately put Nikola on edge as he blinked.

What… What happened?

You are weakened, and were weak to begin with. Our connection holds purely because my essence is tangled with yours, yet it does nothing to prevent our needs from worsening each other.

That tells me nothing.

There is a servant of the Adianoetas in the room with us, though our presence remains unknown to them—no thanks to you, might I add.

Nikola suppressed the urge to stand. He could still see nothing, and his muscles burned from the awkwardness of his position. He also hadn’t the faintest clue as to for how long he had been here, hiding.

He will check the wardrobe soon—I can feel it. When this happens, you need to kill him.

A mixture of confusion and shock coursed through Nikola then, for all he knew he should have expected this. We may have an agreement, but I am not—

They will seek to either capture or kill you, fool. This is not the time to dawdle pondering the morality of spilling blood. Even if it were not to be offered to me by default, I would demand this regardless—hesitating at a time like this would only hurt you.

We can run.

He will alert the worst of them if we do. Our best chance is to nip this in the bud, here and now.

Nikola grit his teeth. It wasn’t even a matter of him being wholly opposed to the idea of ending a life—no, when you understood your death would be the end, that nothing awaited you if you let it happen, the only way to justify snuffing a life out was the very thought of yours being the one extinguished should you not.

No, what he abhorred was the idea of killing someone when the demon that spoke to him would absolutely take advantage of that. Did a random servant of the Adianoetas truly deserve potentially eternal torment just for staking them out?

Yes.

Nikola was not about to take the opinion of the demon itself for that.

You really should.

He truly wished he had any mental image to represent the demon with simply to shoot a glare at that, then.

What you should be wishing for right now is a weapon.

Nikola’s heart skipped a beat.

Because you are about to need one.

The door burst open, and even through the draping clothes, the streaks of light that entered were blinding to him. He could not help but hiss, and the demon within shuddered.

Before he could think better of it, he rushed forward, stumbling through the close until he found something he could grip—the servant’s shirt.

A male voice cried out as Nikola yanked, the motion inexorable. For all the servant was bigger than him, it took little effort to pull him close.

Come to think of it, rushing to grab hold of him had been swift and effortless as well.

The demon laughed as Nikola pushed the man against the back of the wardrobe, kneeing him in the groin. It was difficult to score worthwhile hits when not only did he lack experience in wrestling anyone other than his brother in their youthful playing, but the clothes within the wardrobe acted as buffer to both his own blows and the impact of the man’s back against the wooden planks.

Still, it couldn’t even be truly called a fight. Nikola felt the man’s hands wrap around his throat, yet they failed to squeeze in any meaningful way. He was barely doing anything beyond elbowing the man, pressing his body against him to try and keep him pinned. His hand, firm against the man’s mouth to keep him from calling for help, had been scrapped by teeth twice already, without them even close to breaking skin.

He’d yet to even try to end the servant, his heart hammering in his ears. Something was wrong—he felt that in his very core.

Yet he was not in a position to do anything about that, to stop and question the cackling demon.

Distantly, Nikola wondered if he should do as the man tried—something told him the hand he silenced the servant with would be more than enough to restrain him, despite the odds. They were in a confined space, and ultimately, the man’s struggles were meaningless. There was barely any difference between the kicks delivered to Nikola’s own legs and how the clothes within the wardrobe brushed against him through the scuffle.

He reached forward, putting a hand against the man’s windpipe, then around it. He squeezed the neck, hesitantly at first.

Nikola was truly about to do this—he was about to kill a man.

A particularly nasty kick to his stomach had him clenching his teeth—it was the first blow he had truly felt so far. Almost by instinct, he squeezed harder—and found there was no resistance at all, almost as if he’d been grasping at air.

The only hint that this was not the case was the sickening crack that echoed in the half-dark as the servant’s body slumped, growing still.

Nikola panted—his heart felt as though it might burst as it beat faster and faster, a warmth that bordered on painful coursing through him.

He watched the corpse hit the ground by his feet.

The demon had grown silent, its laughter absent.

For a moment, Nikola was alone, with nothing save the reminder of the life he just took to keep him company.