"Andre! Awake, Andre! Does the world of sleep hold you so tight?"

  The voice pierced the veil of his dreams. Andre stirred, his voice a frail thread of sound. "Who calls to me from the mist?"

  "It is I, Volak," came the stern reply. "Surrender your dreams; the hour of your forging has arrived."

  "I am weary..." Andre murmured, his eyes still heavy with the honey of sleep. "Seek me when my soul has truly returned to my body."

  ?Andre drifted in a sea of warmth, feeling as though he were weightless, cradled by clouds and the softest of silks. But the tranquility was short-lived. Suddenly, the warmth evaporated, replaced by a biting, crystalline void.

  ?"Andre! The lesson begins!"

  With a violent jolt, Andre was cast onto the frozen earth. He lunged upward, his breath hitching as the jagged cold bit into his skin. "Ice! It’s freezing! Who in their right mind flings a man like a sack of grain?!"

  "Since you have finally rejoined the living," Volak said, his face a mask of indifference, "let us begin your training."

  ?Andre blinked against the blinding white of the mountain. "Training? How did I come to be atop this peak?"

  Volak gestured to his long, oaken staff. "I bore you upon my back, balanced across this wood. You slept while I conquered the cliffs."

  Andre’s eyes widened in disbelief. "You scaled a mountain... carrying me like a trophy? You’ve lost your senses!"

  "It is a sturdy staff," Volak replied calmly. "I bound you in my scarf and hoisted you. You were a light burden."

  "You aren't training me," Andre hissed, "you’re courting my death!"

  "Enough. The sun is high. Prepare yourself."

  "Prepare? Look at me! I am without my steel, and I lack my uniform!"

  Volak offered a ghost of a smile. "I have provided all. Look down, Andre."

  ?To his horror, Andre found himself already clad in the formal regalia of his squad. A shudder ran through him. "This... this is unsettling. How did you dress me while I slept?"

  Volak ignored the question. "Shall we? Surrender to the void. Let the Demon claim his throne."

  ?The blood drained from Andre's face. "You cannot be serious."

  "There is no room for jests in the shadow of power. There is a truth I must verify. Hasten."

  "Will I survive this?" Andre whispered. "You remember the chaos of the last time..."

  "Trust in my strength," Volak said firmly. "You shall not fall."

  "Even so... I do not know the path to summon him."

  Volak produced a small, ornate vial. "Then take this. This elixir shall thin the veil between your world and his—if only for a fleeting moment."

  ?Andre downed the bitter liquid. In an instant, a tide of ink-black shadows flooded his heart. His throat began to glow with a malevolent, crimson light, and the boy vanished. In his place stood the Demon Lord, eyes burning like dying stars.

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  ?"So," the Demon rasped, his voice echoing with the weight of centuries, "it is you who has summoned me. Do you crave the embrace of death so desperately?"

  ?"No," Volak replied, his stance unwavering. "I seek words, not blood."

  The Demon let out a hollow, mocking laugh. "Words? I thought you came to reclaim the honor you lost at my feet. My time is a currency far too precious to spend on your chatter."

  "The Lord of the Dead," Volak countered, "is more eager to see you than I am."

  ?The Demon Lord paused, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. "A messenger boy, then? How the mighty have fallen. Very well, speak. Amuse me with your tidings."

  ?Volak narrowed his eyes. "First: why did you choose Andre? Of all the souls in this realm, why his?"

  "A choice?" the Demon mused. "It was no choice. It was the weaving of Fate."

  "Even Fate must follow a design," Volak challenged. "It does not strike blindly."

  "Philosophy from a mortal?" the Demon sneered. "If you must know... I chose him because his heart is a void. It is blacker than the deepest abyss."

  "Is it not because he possesses no magic?"

  "Magic is a triviality," the Demon hissed. "Had he been born a sorcerer, it would change nothing. His heart... that is the raw ore I smelt into power."

  ?"My second question," Volak continued. "What are the terms of your contract?"

  "Simple," the Demon replied. "Whenever he hungers for power, he shall find me waiting."

  "Do not toy with me. I want the full measure of the pact."

  The Demon’s aura flared, the air around them vibrating with malice. "You dare mock me? You forget who stands before you. With a single breath, I can make the winds weep. For your insolence, I shall rend you into silence!"

  ?The Demon swung his blade, and the air itself fractured into jagged shards of wind, screaming toward Volak. "Show me, mortal! How will you defend against the storm?"

  Volak drew a deep breath, channeling the essence of light. With movements like a flash of lightning, he parried the invisible blades, shattering them into harmless mist.

  "Impressive," the Demon conceded. "You have grown... but let us see if you can withstand a strike born of my true essence. Will you stand, or will you collapse in terror as you did before? Come! My blood begins to boil!"

  ?A massive surge of dark energy gathered, striking with the force of a falling star. Volak met the blow head-on, his feet carving furrows into the frozen earth. The clash was violent, a cacophony of light and shadow, until Volak finally dispersed the energy—though he stood trembling, his strength nearly spent.

  ?"I am surprised," the Demon said, watching Volak pant for air. "You are stronger, but you brittle so easily. Rise! The second strike descends!"

  ?Volak wiped blood from his lip and smiled faintly. "I think not. Your wish is denied."

  The Demon felt his grip on the boy’s body slipping. "Cursed elixir... it seems your little ruse has succeeded. The potion’s power fades."

  "I calculated every second," Volak whispered. "You slip away once more, Demon Lord."

  ?As the darkness receded, the Demon cast one final glance at Volak. "The Lord of the Dead wastes his breath. The end is already etched in stone. Surrender, and find peace."

  "Surrender?" the Demon roared. "That word was forgotten before the first star was born. I am the perdition of this world. Tell the boy: if he wishes to wield my flame, he must meet my price—or find me in the depths of Hell and attempt to extinguish me himself! And you... do you truly feel powerful? Or is this just a flicker of light before the eternal dark?"

  ?The shadow vanished. Andre collapsed, gasping, as his soul returned to its cage.

  "Volak? Are you hurt? What happened?"

  "Peace, Andre," Volak said, his voice weary but steady. "We merely had a conversation."

  ?Volak straightened his tunic. "I know how your training must proceed. That was the first step."

  "And the second?" Andre asked tentatively.

  "The second," Volak said, a mischievous glint in his eye, "is for you to carry me down this mountain."

  "You're joking! You're twice my weight and half a head taller!"

  "Do you question your master?"

  "No... but..."

  "Then heave me up and move!"

  "But I haven't learned a single technique!" Andre wailed.

  "Consider this a lesson in fortitude. It will build your muscles."

  "My... my glutes?!" Andre cried in despair.

  ?Volak gripped Andre’s head, applying a painful pressure. "Stop your whimpering and march!"

  "Ow! Ow! Fine! Just stop squeezing!"

  ?As they began their treacherous descent, a lone figure watched from the highest crag. Louis, his eyes cold and calculating, smiled at the retreating figures.

  "The pawns are in motion," Louis whispered to the wind. "The first move has been made."

  "Three more steps, and the masterpiece begins. Andre... what sleeps inside you is the prize I crave. I shall wait until the darkness consumes you entirely... and then, I shall claim it