Aiden woke up. Not dead. Not yet. But where am I? Wherever he was, it was dark.

  No cracks in the walls allowed light through, which was uncommon in the district. Perhaps someone escorted him out to another place—maybe where the so-called Evoker was to arrive. He hoped not.

  His unresponsive body was not reassuring, but that was a trade-off Aiden was willing to take. He was alive, after all. The lightless place he found himself in was warm, soft, peaceful—unlike his last moments.

  Maybe I’m dead and this is the abyss, Aiden mused. He did not feel pain, which was not a good sign given the beating he had taken. It’s not as bad as I thought. The sound of Overseer Travor’s screams had been sweet music to his ears before he lost consciousness.

  Aiden was about to touch the awareness in his mind, for the glowing texts were the only holders of information regarding the magic he had unleashed upon the Sovran. Maybe it was a proof he still lived.

  “You’re awake. And still alive!” An enthusiastic giggle approached from the darkness. “I was a bit worried you wouldn’t make it, truth be told.”

  “Argh!” Aiden tried to get up, urging his body to run.

  They got me, abyss! He felt the dormant magic in his mind, touching it as if it were a limb. Empty. He knew he could not unleash the same attack again unless its reserves were full once more.

  “Hey, hey, shhh…” A hand brushed against his forehead. “You’re safe now, Aiden.”

  It was a woman’s voice. It did not belong to Travor or Corvanis. The Evoker. It had to be. Dammit! Aiden let the awareness unfold in front of his eyes; he needed to understand the magic he now wielded if he wanted a chance at surviving.

  Draven Von Astrais

  Dyad Vessel: Corruption [Lesser]

  Path: None

  Dyad Vessel. He focused on the words, witnessing as they rearranged themselves into a unique pattern that expanded in front of his eyes.

  Dyad Vessel

  Corruption [Lesser]

  Release on thy enemies all the suffering unleashed upon thyself.

  Aiden recalled the fleeting memories of how the Providence worked, associating it with the glowing runes that confirmed his gut feeling. I can’t use it. Not now. It needs to… I need to get hurt first. It seemed even magic had limitations, for it also needed time to recover after each use.

  But it can still absorb.

  The more he thought about it, the more the magic workings resembled a bucket—one that, oddly enough, stored pain rather than water. Aiden could only use the bucket if it contained something.

  Light blinded him suddenly. Aiden blinked away tears as his eyes adjusted to the newfound brightness. The silhouette of a massive woman sitting beside him was the first thing he saw.

  “Sorry, a little warning might have been better.” The woman chuckled. “Oh well, a bit of temporary blindness is the least of your problems, anyway.”

  Another Sovran. Unsurprising. She wanted information about the Beyond and the rune book, though her nonchalance made him question that thought. “Who are you?” Aiden still could not move, but his mouth worked just fine.

  I’m not dead. Yet. I’ll die before giving up anything.

  “You took the beating of a lifetime, or so I’m told,” she ignored the question. “Alright, I’m sensing a little tension between us, Aiden.” The woman laughed, her eyes shifting from him to the wall.

  “I wasn’t really expecting you to give a hooray or anything.” She harrumphed, standing up to tower over Aiden. “A little thank you wouldn’t hurt,t though! Maker’s blessing, Myra, you saved my life? Thank you. Thank you so much! My body doesn’t hurt even though a couple of Sovrans nearly beat me to death? Thank you, Myra, you’re the best.”

  Aiden’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “Enough, Myra. It’s good that his trust doesn’t come easy,” someone else spoke. “We meet again, boy.”

  Aiden’s eyes darted to the other side of the room. A wrinkled, white-haired, decrepit old man rested against the wall with arms crossed—the Sovran from the Beyond. He approached Aiden, but his white hair and aged skin did nothing to mask the presence pressure he emitted. It was hard to describe, but the look on his face and the certainty of his steps put Aiden on guard.

  “There’s much to explain and little time to answer questions,” the elderly man said, frowning. “This is you.” He held a mirror facing Aiden.

  A disfigured creature lay on the bed—a proper bed, not one made of rags. Aiden closed his eyes, trying to run from the reality, from what remained of his broken body. It did him no good. With a trembling sigh, he opened his eyes again and stared back at his reflection.

  Aiden lay broken in the comfort he once dreamed of, his lips slipping open to the side, exposing countless missing teeth. A deep cut ran down his chest, twisted trails spreading from it like roots. It’s me. Rather than despair, Aiden only felt fury.

  “Tell me, boy, are you Heightened?” the old man asked.

  “I’m a what?” Aiden stuttered, confused. “No clue what kind of nonsense you’re crapping out through your mouth, you Sovran piece of shit,” he snapped at the elder.

  This situation was the old Sovran’s fault. None of it would have happened if the Gate had remained shut. None of it. Aiden did not know who the man was, but he already hated him with every ounce of his being. His family, however, was more important than hatred, and he needed to find a way to find them.

  “He’s not lying, gramps,” Myra nodded.

  The Sovran looked unconvinced but chose not to press it.

  “If I’m alive, it’s because you need me,” Aiden broke the silence. The Sovran needed him, so his best chance of saving his family was to find out whatever he could about his situation. “My family. You said they were in danger.”

  “Yes, they will die in a year or so.” The elder nodded.

  “What?” The shackles holding his body dormant snapped as Aiden stood up and grabbed him by the arm. “Say that again!”

  “Argh!” Myra took a step back, blood seeping from the corners of her mouth.

  “Use your Providence on me and I’ll cut off that arm,” the Sovran said. He glanced down, unconcerned, but the threat in his chilling tone was clear.

  Shivers crawled under Aiden’s skin as he released the elder’s hand.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “You can’t restrain an Unheightened miner boy, Myra?” The white-haired man shook his head.

  “I’ve been blocking that damned trace for hours, you heartless geezer!” Myra wiped the blood from her mouth, a maddened look possessing her eyes. “You know my reserve isn’t that great, I’m just a Median Reverence. Do this, Myra. Do that, Myra. After you heal him, block the trace, Myra. After you block the trace, make sure he’s not dead.”

  “Abyss below, woman,” the man from the Beyond took a step back. “I just asked.”

  So she’s the reason I couldn’t move. Aiden did not understand how Sovran magic worked, but whatever hold Myra had on him injured her once broken.

  “And how the Abyss does he have this much will, Helvan?” she asked.

  Helvan ignored her.

  “My family.” Other questions could wait. “Why did you say that? They got into Elysium, why would they be in danger?”

  “Nothing in this world comes free, Aiden.” Helvan looked lost in memory, but it only lasted a moment. “I’ll only help you if you help me first.”

  “What do you want?” Aiden suppressed the hostility in his tone.

  “Pledge yourself under my service, swear to obey and follow my instructions—”

  “No.” Aiden did not hesitate.

  Myra laughed, while Helvan looked taken aback.

  Is this geezer stupid? Who in the abyss would agree to that over some shady rumors? Aiden restrained his temper, but he failed to understand how anyone would dare offer such terms. Perhaps the old man was a swindler or thought Aiden was stupid.

  “I’m not keen on becoming a slave just because you said some obscure nonsense about my family,” Aiden scoffed. “You want me to take your word for it? No, thanks. They’re probably safe and sound in Elysium.”

  “What if that’s a lie, boy?” Helvan waved his hand before Aiden could reply. “And make no mistake, you would not become a slave. You already are one.”

  Aiden narrowed his eyes.

  “Hm, what do they call your kind, boy?” Helvan took a deliberate pause. “Ah, yes, ratlings.”

  “Send you to the mines, pay you with scraps, beat you bloody for the slightest mistake. Yup, sounds pretty much like a slave to me,” Myra said with more enthusiasm than necessary.

  Aiden gritted his remaining teeth until he tasted blood. They’re not wrong. The Maker knew the kind of hardship the miner families had to endure; it was something etched in their blood so deeply it had become normal. Somewhere along the way, they had settled for the injustice, choosing to forget a life once lived with dignity.

  “You need this ratling, don’t you?” There was no bargain between two parties that did not respect each other, or so Aiden’s father used to say. “So either show me some respect or kill me, like the Sovran you are.”

  Anger provided no answers, it only clouded judgment. Aiden’s mind was crystal clear, devoid of emotion, but he was tired of games. Enough was enough.

  “Interesting…” A smile adorned the corners of the Sovran’s mouth. It was the first semblance of pleasant emotion he had displayed. “A deal then, not a vow of servitude, but of partnership. You can call it a transaction, if you want. You help me, and I will help you.”

  “How can I know you’re not lying about my family?” Aiden hesitated.

  Helvan was the only person ever to question the safety of Elysium, but he was also the first who might have seen it firsthand. No other Sovran would lower themselves and speak to a miner when not necessary. Helvan’s words, truthful or not, held weight.

  “You can’t.” Helvan paused. “Unless you’re a wielder of the Blood Path, an Empyrean that reads lies from people’s hearts. But I don’t think that’s the case. Well, it hardly matters; the words, once written on a binding vow, will require me to comply.”

  He produced a piece of leather from his black robes. Aiden swore the scroll was too big to fit in the elderly man’s pocket, but he chose not to focus on the thought.

  “You still haven’t said what you need from me,” he pressed.

  There was no way out of this; Aiden did not dare gamble his family’s life. Lie or truth, Aiden bit the hook with enough strength to shatter his teeth. Oh Maker, let this ugly geezer not be a swindler.

  “You will infiltrate the Orenn House, a minor Sovran family, the same one who holds your family.” Helvan examined Aiden for a reaction but found nothing. “There have been some rumors about a secret meeting known only to Viren nobility, but no information about what is being discussed.”

  They have my family? Aiden solidified his resolve, certain he would follow the Sovran’s direction. Still, the plan itself did not sound feasible.

  “Me? A miner?” It sounded ridiculous as Aiden voiced it aloud. “I might be small, but Sovrans aren’t blind! You just said Elysium is not safe for us. They’ll kill me.”

  “Aha! That’s where I come in,” Myra said, her eyes flashing red. “I’m gonna make you look like a Sovran. Maybe you’ll even be as strong as one. Probably not, though. You see, I’ve been practicing, but no one has survived so far.”

  Helvan cleared his throat.

  “I shouldn’t have said that. Well, forget I said that! I feel quite confident this time.” Her smile faltered. “Probably. Truth be told, it’s more like fifty-fifty.”

  I’m dead.

  Fear the unknown as he might, those people had saved Aiden’s life. That was something he could not discredit—rescuing a criminal from the hands of two powerful Sovrans was no easy feat. If they did that, saving his family might not be impossible.

  And I only need to sell my soul for that. Not bad. I’ll take it.

  Helvan opened the leather scroll. Gold sheeting encased the edges, with maroon-red words written on it. Words. Aiden did not know how to read.

  “I, Helvan Karimonder, vow to assist Aiden Greystone in locating and rescuing his family should there be a risk to their lives in the coming period of one year. In return, Aiden Greystone will assist me by infiltrating the Viren nobility to gather information about their meetings.”

  The Sovran extended the scroll to Aiden. “All you need to do is say your full name and that you agree to these terms.”

  “That won’t work.” Aiden shook his head. Abyss take me, he is a swindler! “You think I’m stupid? You put a time on saving my family but not on me helping you out?”

  Helvan frowned but did not retort. Instead, he tapped a finger on the page, and the words disappeared. “Set your terms then, boy. Just say them out loud while holding the contract, you don’t need to know how to read.”

  The scroll felt warm in Aiden’s hands. It throbbed, pulsating with a rhythm—a heartbeat—but Aiden dismissed the oddity. He was dealing with Sovran magic. Attempting to understand it was not the right choice. He doubted anyone could understand it.

  He’s giving me the power to set terms. Is he stupid? Still, Aiden abandoned the idea of trying to get the better of Helvan, or to swindle him to a disproportional deal; it was foolish even for him.

  Organizing his thoughts, making sure to eliminate any loopholes on his end, Aiden spoke, “I, hm… Aiden Greystone, swear to infiltrate the Orenn House, was it?” Helvan nodded. “And gather information about what they’re up to for one year. In return, what was it again? Helvan Salamander?”

  “Karimonder,” the Sovran snarled.

  “Salamander!” Myra burst into laughter, holding her stomach while pointing at the old man.

  “In return, Helvan Karimonder will help me save my family from whatever threatens their lives for one year.” It was a stretch. Not only did the terms force Helvan to rescue, but also to protect them for one year—but Aiden had to try.

  The ink appeared on the contract, coalescing into unintelligible little characters that made no sense. He had a feeling they were truthful, but it was either that or another elaborate scam.

  “Whatever threatens their lives…” Helvan hummed. “Your father must’ve been busy teaching you to take advantage of others. Like fraudster father, like son.”

  “What about gathering information? You’re not bad yourself, probably taught the profession to my great-grandfather or something,” Aiden scoffed.

  Helvan drew a dagger from one of his sleeves in a swift motion.

  Aiden’s eyes widened. “It’s a joke!”

  Instead of plunging the weapon into his exposed chest, the Sovran used it to cut the tip of his finger. The bloody thumb made contact with the scroll, leaving a red fingerprint on it. Soon, Aiden’s bloody print left its mark on the leather.

  “Ugh… you should probably put that thing away.” Myra promptly stepped away.

  “What do you—”

  The scroll caught fire suddenly. The heat burned Aiden’s eyebrows. With a yell, he threw the thing on the ground, where it turned to nothing but ashes in moments. A thick cloud of black smoke twisted in the air as if alive. It divided into two portions, one shooting toward Aiden and the other toward Helvan.

  Aiden ducked away with a yell, falling out of the bed, but the smoke followed. It entered his nostrils with a rancid smell of burnt flesh that brought tears to his eyes. He coughed, trying to expel it from his lungs.

  Something changed inside of him. A compulsion. A foreign will. Deep within his soul, a contract now required him to go to the Orenn House, wherever that was, infiltrate their midst. Gather information. It was a silent voice that never stopped talking, compelling him to take steps toward that path.

  “The Witnesses of the Beyond welcome you, Aiden,” Helvan nodded, seemingly unfazed by the smoke that entered his throat. “Rest well tonight, for tomorrow you die so a new Sovran is born.”