I stared into the eyes of another dragon. A Tenebrous Dragon, like myself. He was a solid foot taller than me, bulkier, stronger, and radiated flickers of flame that looked an awful lot like the sacred fire that had burned me from the inside out. In contrast to my black scales, this dragon had pristine white ones. Where I had a purple blush to my scales, he had orange. He had wings, I didn’t. I felt envy and jealousy rise up in one of my hearts.

I wanted wings.

“Mikhail, I presume?” I grunted a greeting to my new associate.

“Yes,” Mikhail answered with a gruff murmur. His voice creaked from disuse.

“Weird, they said you were dead.”

“I am,” Mikhail agreed. He wasn’t big on conversation, it seemed. Yet each use of his voice felt like someone pushed a giant boulder down a hill, and the roots, grass, dirt, and other obstacles were being ground away with each word he uttered.

“So,” I said. I looked around. We stood on a clear circle, that despite its transparency was very solid. I estimated the radius of the circle to be about twenty feet, with us at the center.

“You are greedy,” Mikhail stated.

“I am? Me? Are you sure? Who do you think I am?” I shouldn’t totally trust a dead-guy who killed my spear’s first wielder, right? Plus, he totally got murdered by Azazel, who’s armor I had inherited and merged with, if you wanted to look at it that way. I also had his claws, so this might get awkward.

“Yes, you. Who are you? Who indeed.” Mikhail answered me with an accusatory glare.

“Our journey was an eternity ago. We converted our planets into vessels and bridged the dimensions, to create a refuge from the impending doom of our own galaxy. Our technology, our power, allowed us to follow the pathways of creation and form a place all our own. We thought we would start anew, our perfect worlds in a space we controlled entirely. Peace was fleeting.” Mikhail’s words evoked no images in my mind. He wasn’t a storyteller, and his glare held deep blame.

“Samael, the eldest of us, sought ever growing control of our people. Azazel tried to meditate, but when conflict became inevitable he chose my side, for I spoke for all who had scale and claw.” Mikhail looked across the vast darkness, then back to me.

“With age comes power. As the eldest, Samael was difficult to defeat. Even outnumbered, he and his followers fought to the last. We executed him and performed every rite we knew to prevent his return. Our perfect little world had rules of its own that we were still learning.” Mikhail shrugged.

“Our utopia existed for a few thousand years more, until a lesser species opened the gates we had once opened. Lucifer came before us to seek our assistance in a ridiculous scheme to make the Universe one,. He preached equality between species, between the weak and the strong. I would have smote him immediately were it not for Azazel joining the insect.” Mikhail spat at an imaginary Lucifer, or maybe an imaginary Azazel.

“Day by day, more of our people joined the accursed Stellarae Enclave with Azazel. I roused my forces and sought to banish them from our realm, but Lucifer insisted on fighting me in individual combat to prove the strength of his people. What a coward,” Mikhail growled and spit flames. “He lost on purpose.”

“While I strangled the life from his horrific pink flesh, he looked into my eyes and told me that I was no true leader, and capable only of being a Lord of War. He told me of the Cosmogenesis Project of his people. The perfect utopia. Do you know who else made a perfect utopia? Samael. In the eyes of this little pink skinned thing, I saw the hatred and victory of Samael. I killed him, and every other pink skinned thing I could find, until Azazel and his followers swarmed me.” Mikhail showed his sharp fangs with the words.

I said nothing.

“Samael! SAMAEL! I know you’re still here, Samael! Here in our perfect home. I’ve killed you twice. Let’s go for a third time.” Mikhail’s eyes focused on me. Sure, they swiveled around crazily, taking in the vast darkness, but they returned to me again and again. Stuck in the abyss with an insane ghost wasn’t how I planned to spend my night, especially when Amaranthine had probably retired to one of our quarters and might even now be testing the silkiness of the sheets against her bare skin, and here I was with this asshole.

A blazing sword of fire appeared in Mikhail’s hands, and he lunged at me. Delirium of Ruin appeared in my hands, and I parried. Or that’s what I attempted to do. For some reason I lunged forward to recklessly attack the larger dragon. I could feel my aggression rising beyond all rational levels. I wanted to close my jaws around his throat and slurp his blood. I needed to slice his head off and punt it into the darkness. This level of blood lust scared me, but the fear only fueled the desperate need to commit violence.

I managed to reassert control over my limbs and change my move to parry Mikhail’s attack at the last moment. Unfortunately for me, Delirium of Ruin didn’t slice through his sword as it had so many other weapons. The strange white metal of his sword took damage from the impact, but a half inch deep gash wasn’t the usual cut in two I had grown used to, and even worse, the blade immediately rippled and healed.

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Mikhail kicked me in the stomach in the brief moment I cursed his weapons healing, then charged towards me while I regained my balance. I moved to parry, and again had to fight the desperate, reckless need to attack instead of defending myself.

“Fight me!” Mikhail screamed in my face, and I took a move out of his playbook to kick him in the chest. Bolts of black lightning cascaded through my leg and combined with the brutal kick blasted Mikhail to the edge of the platform in a flash.

“Fight you? I’ll kill you,” I screamed at the top of my lungs, something I had not done since transforming into a dragon, or my acquisition of the Choker of Ruin. My rage practically shook the air itself, and even the platform we fought on seemed to tremble.

I activated Galvanize. The slowed perception of the world around me was when I realized something. Instincts of the Gossamyr didn’t seem to work here. The Mask of Azazel offered no advice on how to dodge or avoid incoming attacks. This was me vs Mikhail and I didn’t even know what the consequences of a loss here would mean. Would it kill me? Would the insane ghost leave here, and I would be the one stuck in the darkness? Maybe I would just wake up to be lectured by Arx Maxima?

“Stop thinking and start fighting for real, or I’ll be taking that abomination you call a body as my own.” Mikhail threatened as he charged back at me.

I dropped an EternaStone wall in front of him and dashed around the left side. I struck fast and hard, with a multi-thrust attack that left a dozen wounds across his chest that oozed blood.

“I recognize that vile spear,” Mikhail hissed at me, as he was forced back out of my reach to regain his stance.

I breathed in and exhaled a dark wave of chaotic power at Mikhail. I mentally thanked Amaranthine for teaching me Drain Speed. I felt both my hearts quicken, my perception of time increase, and I visibly saw Mikhail’s speed decrease.

Mikhail breathed in and exhaled a burst of orange-white fire at me. I reflected it to either side and charged straight up the middle to thrust the end of Delirium of Ruin through his open snout, thrust again into his throat, and managed a final strike at his chest, before I hopped backwards to avoid a furious swing of his huge sword. Blood continued to ooze from his wounds. I considered it a good sign his wounds didn’t heal; I’d worried he would regenerate when his weapon did. But that many wounds would have killed most warriors, could I even kill a ghost with strikes?

At least the reckless urge to strike Mikhail had ceased. Based on the huge chunk of 500 astral force I lost in one go, I guessed Citadel Adaption had adapted to whatever force had been affecting me.

“You have the tricks of Azazel and Lucifer, but that won’t be enough,” Mikhail laughed and the orange-white flames he’d breathed engulfed him the way wind and lightning engulfed me. His wounds closed as I watched, but I didn’t hesitate. I couldn’t afford to get into a drawn out fight with an opponent stronger than me, who could take dozens of my best strikes without slowing down.

I blocked him in with three walls to make a U around him, thrust Delirium of Ruin through a tiny window behind his head, and infused my spear with the effect Amaranthine had warned me could be absolutely dangerous, Induce Flaw. The tip of Delirium of Ruin pushed into his skull, and bolts of black lightning coursed into his flesh alongside the tide of chaos. I dumped more and more astral power into cascading streams of chaos and lightning, until a critical mass hit.

Mikhail burst like a pinata; his huge sword clattered to the ground. I secured it in the Belt of Diana and eyed the darkness warily. I felt odd. A touch of guilt, a bit of shame, but also a deep satisfaction at having obliterated Mikhail. Something out in the darkness watched me. None of my senses or those of the Mask of Azazel could find even a hint, but I could feel eyes on me. Malevolent, judgmental eyes. Was Samael still haunting this strange darkness?

The platform shattered and I fell. I summoned a new platform of EternaStone and locked its position. The darkness still seemed to wait, hungry. How many awful ghosts were out there, like Mikhail?

Survive!!!!!

Something about the message nagged at me. If this was a trial, why hadn’t I been teleported out yet. Why didn’t Instincts of the Gossamyr work here? Why couldn’t I talk to Arx Maxima? I cast my mind for her, but she was nowhere to be found, nor did she seem to hear my calls.

“Not bad, Samael,” Mikhail said. He reappeared on the platform, bereft of his white flaming sword, but now he held a great sword made entirely of fire, and four other dragons flanked him. “As it was then, so it is now, I require the aid of others to defeat you.”

“I’m not Samael, you dolt. My name is Emery!” I pushed more power into Galvanize as the five attackers spread out into a semi-circle around me. Before they spread out too far I cast a wave of sparkling chaos that clung to each of them like the oily Pyromancer’s Wrath concoction sold by the Alchemist’s Guild. Not that the chaos burned, but it wound its way within to manifest debilitating effects.

Then they were on me, with their swords made of fire. I could feel my own fear rising, and somehow I grasped the fear and made it strength. My enemies felt no fear, not even with chaos clinging to them, or when Delirium of Ruin shattered their flame blades in a single strike. They simply reignited the blaze.

They were fearless, but reckless and blood thirsty. I grasped their bloodlust and made it my strength, and danced between them in a flurry of lightning and wind. I had Lex Talionis firmly in hand, deflecting any blow I failed to parry with my own weapon. Then an epiphany struck me: why do I need to parry when I can block and deflect with Lex Talionis?

Blades sought my blood but missed due to sudden alterations in trajectory. I stepped in and removed a blue dragon from the fight with a quick triple thrust across their chest. Showers of sparks filled the air as Mikhail’s flame blade bounced off an invisible barrier in front of my armor, and I took his arm and then his head. In moments, all five of the Tenebris Dragons were vanquished.

You pass this examination. One day, you might be ready for Samael. You must be ready for Samael. Mikhail whispered into my mind with an ease I didn’t like at all.

The darkness near me ripped open and a golden doorway beckoned me back to Arx Maxima. I backed through the doorway, in case something lunged out of the darkness at me or tried to follow.