Indenuel rushed into his body again. He couldn’t breathe as water filled his mouth, ears, and nose before it was drained. Indenuel found himself on his hands and knees, surrounded by bodies, coughing and hacking up water. There was one person still standing.

Indenuel looked up to see Garen holding a knife with a blade as black as night. “Sell your soul.”

Water dripped off Indenuel’s chin as he stared at the devil. “No.”

Garen’s smile was twisted. “Indenuel, do you have any idea what you’ve just done? You created water through sheer will. You have touched the powers of the Gods Themselves. With more time, with more power, I can help you become one. Earth, water, air, fire, you can create your own worlds. You can fill the night sky with your creations. The world doesn’t need the Savior. The world needs you.” Garen held out the knife, waiting for Indenuel to take it. “And you need me.”

“No,” Indenuel said again.

Garen shook his head. “Are you really giving up the ability to be God? The High Elders would have to listen to you then. They would have to stay uncorrupted. You could kill at will.” Garen forced the black knife into Indenuel’s hand, and it stuck there like an icicle in his wet hand. “You and I can be rulers of this world. The Gods died, with no plans to keep it safe. Without you, it will fall apart. We can rebuild it. Make it better. We can do so much together. I just need your soul.”

Indenuel stared at Garen’s black eyes, feeling the devil’s sleep threaten to take over. “No.”

Garen reached out, touching Indenuel’s chin. Strength returned to his limbs. “Don’t go to sleep. We’re not finished having this conversation yet.” Garen grabbed Indenuel’s wrist, and he gasped as he actually felt the devil’s hand on his. Garen forced the knife up to his shoulder. “Do you swear to serve me as your master?”

“No,” Indenuel said.

Garen seemed more amused than anything. “At least tell me why not.” Indenuel said nothing, simply stared at Garen. “You are already going to Hell. Why not use my powers to get rid of the High Elders. That is the only way you’re going to defeat them. They are too powerful, otherwise.”

Indenuel couldn’t do this. He was not ready to have a moral discussion with the devil himself.

“Your soul is mine, either way. I’m just helping you understand your potential. The Godhood you could achieve if you gave me your soul now.”

“No,” Indenuel said.

All at once he was on his feet. Indenuel stared at Tolomon’s face, soaked to the bone and frightened. “Who were you talking to!” Tolomon demanded. Indenuel looked down, saw the knife had disappeared from his hand. He turned and saw Garen glaring darkly at Tolomon, hissing as he backed away. “Indenuel!” Tolomon held him out enough to see the mark. It looked black in the moonlight.

“I didn’t sell it,” Indenuel said, almost numbly. “I won’t become God. I can barely be the Warrior.”

“Become God? What are you talking about?” Tolomon asked.

“It looks black, doesn’t it,” Indenuel mumbled. “But I swear, I swear there’s still a little red left.”

“What did you do? What was that water?” Tolomon asked.

“I don’t know. I just made it,” Indenuel said. Tolomon swore softly. The remaining water reflected the moonlight. He saw all the bodies. “I killed them all.”

“You did,” Tolomon said.

“Over a thousand people. I was only supposed to kill five hundred,” Indenuel said. Tolomon said nothing. “I still have to fight another one, don’t I.”

“No, you’re not. You are done. You can’t do this anymore. I will not allow it,” Tolomon said.

“After a thousand, five hundred doesn’t seem like a lot,” Indenuel said.

Tolomon forced him to look at him. “Are you listening to me? You can’t do this. Ever. You need to recover. You’re barely standing and-” Tolomon stopped. He brought out a dagger and went to throw it when he froze, his eyes wide. “Shit.”

Stolen story; please report.

“Drop your weapons and identify yourselves!” a far too familiar voice shouted.

Indenuel gasped. He backed away, a felled tree stopping his retreat as Nathaniel appeared in the small clearing. Nathaniel had a sword and a shield out, his pant legs wet from wading through water. “You are surrounded, and we will attack! We demand to know what you’ve done here!” Nathaniel walked forward with purpose until he saw Tolomon, then he froze. He lowered his shield, confusion on his face. “Tolomon?”

“Shit, Nathaniel, what are you doing here?” Tolomon asked.

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Tolomon moved forward. “Dammit, man, I’ve been sworn under threat of death to my last remaining family to make sure no one sees us.”

Indenuel tried not to move, to not bring attention to himself, but Nathaniel’s gaze moved past Tolomon. “Inden-?” Nathaniel’s eyes dropped to his chest. How could it not? He quietly cursed Tolomon for ripping off his shirt, because now Nathaniel could see everything. All of it, in its deadly, devilish glory. Dawning horror bloomed across Nathaniel’s face, and he would have rather the man stab him straight through the gut then look at him like that.

The shield clattered to the ground, the sword slipping from his grip. Indenuel had to look away from the pain on Nathaniel’s face as he folded his arms, knowing it did little to cover the marks. Nathaniel’s steps started out slow but became quicker. “No,” he whispered. “No, no, Indenuel. No.” He was in pain as he dropped to his knees, unfolding Indenuel’s arms, looking at the mark. “This cannot be your reason for fighting.” Nathaniel did not hide his tears. “Not him. Not the devil. No. No.”

“I didn’t… it’s still red,” Indenuel said.

A sob traveled through Nathaniel. “They broke you. The High Elders broke you!” He reached forward, his hand full of healing power, trying to trace it over the marks. Indenuel screamed, dropping to the ground, clutching his chest. It felt as though liquid fire was poured on him. Nathaniel took off his military coat and wrapped it around him, holding him close.

“I had to,” Indenuel groaned.

“No, you didn’t. Not this. Never this,” Nathaniel said, his sob passing. He had never gotten angry, but the pain and hurt in his friend’s voice was enough to keep him silent. It had happened. There was no changing it now. Nathaniel’s coat was warm, and he could feel himself entering the devil’s sleep. Garen might have taken it away for a bit, but it came back.

Tolomon, standing not that far away, pulled out his sword, staring at nothing. Nathaniel, still holding Indenuel, looked at the sword in his hand. “Tolomon?”

“I was sworn to secrecy, and I have my orders. Kill anyone that sees us, or Vivian and her entire family dies,” Tolomon said.

Nathaniel gave Indenuel a final hug before standing. “There has to be another way.”

“I know. I could never kill you. I would rather kill-” he stopped. He narrowed his eyes, then looked down at Nathaniel’s sword at his feet.

“Tolomon,” Nathaniel said, his voice quiet but in command. “Don’t. Don’t you dare.”

“You are the only person they’d believe could overpower me.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“I’m from the common class. They don’t treat us the same. They never have. You’ve seen Indenuel. They can’t swear you to secrecy. You can get him the help he needs far better than I ever could. Your father doesn’t know. Once I’m gone, take Indenuel to him and tell him everything you saw.” Tolomon sheathed his own sword before tossing Nathaniel’s fallen sword in the air with his foot, catching the hilt.

Nathaniel took a few steps forward. “Give me my sword right now.” His voice was serious. Tolomon gave him a look, measuring him up. “That’s an order from a military captain, Graduate. Do not disobey me.” Tolomon gave a small sigh, thumbing the blade before handing it over. Nathaniel took it, sheathing it. “I will not lose you, Vivian does not have to die, and I won’t make you kill me. We have time. Between the two of us, we will think of something else.”

Indenuel began to cough. His vision was darkening around the edges. He held his head, trying to steady himself.

“I must take him back to the dungeon now. The moment we cross over the wall, three more Graduates will follow. You cannot be seen with me,” Tolomon said. Nathaniel looked at Indenuel who was still on his hands and knees, holding the military coat closed, still feeling the lingering pain of the healing power on his marks, the devil’s sleep creeping up on him. He blinked the darkness back, trying to stay awake.

“Can you shake off three Graduates while you make it back to the dungeon?” Nathaniel said.

“I can, yes.”

“Then we have until we get back to the dungeon to make a solid plan,” Nathaniel said.

“And if not, I’m taking your sword and slitting my throat, and you will run the hell away from me so the Graduates don’t see you.”

Nathaniel raised a hand, pointing at Tolomon. “No. If the plan isn’t solid enough, we fight over who kills themselves. My father will take notice if I’m dead, and you can help him figure out why. It solves the problem just as well.”

“You’re an idiot, and a stubborn ass,” Tolomon said.

“I need to know you haven’t given up and you will plan with me without holding back,” Nathaniel said.

Tolomon walked over to Indenuel before placing him over his shoulders and standing up. “You honestly think, if the plan isn’t solid enough, you could win against me?”

“Yes. We are only allowed to use the weapons of the other person to make it look like the other killed us.” Tolomon froze. Indenuel, in his clouded mind, realized exactly what that meant. Nathaniel had a sword and a shield. Tolomon was a walking dagger collection.

Tolomon narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I agree to your terms. Let’s start planning.”

Indenuel’s eyes closed. Nathaniel strapped his shield back on. “I’ll follow your lead. Tell me everything as fast as you can.”