The demon lords erupted into chaos, shouting and arguing amongst themselves. Malekith’s words had struck a nerve, setting the chamber aflame with the promise of power and victory. Zaxos remained silent, his expression unreadable as he regarded Malekith.
Before Zaxos could respond, however, a new voice cut through the chaos. Sylthris glided forward, her silver hair shimmering in the torchlight as she moved. The demon lords parted to allow her passage, their earlier arguments forgotten as they turned their attention to her.
“Perhaps the prince has a point,” Sylthris said, her voice a haunting melody. “The Accused’s right to Trial by Fire is enshrined in our most ancient laws. And as much as I admire your creative approach to leading us, Sovereign, even you cannot simply discard the laws of our kind at a whim.”
Sylthris bowed to Zaxos, her movements graceful and deliberate. Aric caught a flash of something passing between her and Malekith, a silent understanding that left him both uneasy and strangely exhilarated.
“You claim to have the schematics for this human weapon in your possession?” Sylthris asked, turning her lavender-midnight blue eyes on Aric. “I trust they are with you, then.”
Aric nodded, his throat dry. “They’re concealed in my memories. A safeguard, to keep them out of demon hands.”
Sylthris’s lips curved in a smile, her fangs frightfully sharp. “Clever. But I can extract them. I can’t promise it will be pleasant for you.”
“I’ve endured worse,” Aric said, meeting her gaze with as much defiance as he could muster.
“Undoubtedly.” Sylthris straightened, her attention returning to Malekith. “But it seems the human’s fate is in your hands, Malekith. Will you take up the mantle of champion for his trials, and prove his loyalty to our kind?”
The demon lords were silent, their eyes darting between Malekith and Zaxos, the tension in the chamber trembling like lightning. Aric held his breath, his entire being focused on the silent exchange between the three demons before him.
“I will,” Malekith said at last, his voice firm and unwavering.
Aric’s heart soared at the note of determination in Malekith’s tone. For all Malekith’s skill at manipulation and political games, there was no mistaking the truth in his words. Malekith was willing to risk everything to save him, and it was a heady, intoxicating realization.
Zaxos leaned forward on his throne, his molten gold eyes gleaming with interest as he surveyed Aric and Malekith. The vast chamber was silent, the others holding their breath, waiting to see how their sovereign would respond.
“A bold proposal, Prince Malekith,” Zaxos said at last. “And one that certainly warrants consideration.”
Aric’s heart was pounding in his ears, the blood rushing so loud he could barely hear the sovereign’s words. He was all too aware of the guards’ tight grip on his arms, ready to yank him back at the first sign of trouble. He forced himself to remain still, to keep his face schooled in an expression of defiance, but it was a struggle not to glance at Malekith, to search his face for some sign of what was to come.
Zaxos steepled his long, razor-sharp claws, the points of them glinting in the torchlight. “If we are to proceed with these trials, then I will lay out the terms.”
Aric’s mouth had gone dry, his whole body tensed as he waited for the other shoe to drop. He knew Zaxos well enough by now to understand that the sovereign would not make this easy. Whatever trials he had in mind would be designed to test Aric’s loyalty and worthiness in the most brutal ways.
“The human weapon you speak of is a threat that must be taken seriously,” Zaxos said. “And our response to it will be equally significant. Therefore, I propose three trials to test the human’s mettle and his loyalty to our kind.”
Aric’s stomach dropped. He had been right. Zaxos was going to make him pay for his treachery, for aiding the demons’ enemies, even if it had been unintentional. But he kept his face carefully blank, his gaze fixed on Zaxos, refusing to show any sign of weakness.
“The first trial will test your mind,” Zaxos said. “Demanding conviction that you cannot possibly display. The second trial will test your magic. A feat of power that even the most gifted human mage could not hope to achieve.”
Aric’s fingers twitched, the memory of his powers bound and useless still too fresh in his mind.
“And the third trial will test your loyalty,” Zaxos said. “A choice that will determine the fate of both our kind and yours.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and portentous. Aric knew he was being given a chance, a slim hope of redemption in the face of his betrayal. But the price of failure would be steep, and he had no illusions about the consequences. Death would be a mercy compared to what Zaxos had in store for him.
Vizra surged forward like a viper striking, her honey-colored skin flushed with anger. “This is an outrage, Sovereign!” she hissed, her eyes flashing like molten gold. “The human has consorted with our enemies, and even now, a spy in our midst seeks to undermine our cause. His fate is already sealed, and yet you would reward his treachery with such leniency?”
A hushed silence fell over the chamber, the other demons shrinking back, unwilling to be caught in the crossfire. Zaxos’s gaze never left Malekith’s, his eyes burning with silent challenge.
“Vizra speaks true, my Sovereign,” Sylthris said. “The human has committed a grave crime, one that cannot go unpunished. But perhaps in his trials, we will discover whether his treachery is a stain that can be cleansed, or a disease that must be excised.”
The demon lords shifted uneasily, torn between their allegiance to Zaxos and the sense that Vizra was the one speaking their true desires. Malekith’s jaw clenched, his fingers white-knuckled where they rested on the arm of Aric’s chair.
Vizra, however, was not so easily cowed. Her eyes blazed with fury, the air around her crackling with power. “Sovereign, you cannot be serious. To grant such leniency to an enemy of our kind—”
“Sovereign Zaxos’s word is absolute.” The words were soft, but they silenced Vizra instantly. Zaxos rose to his full height, a mountain of shadow and flame, and towered over Aric and the other demons gathered. “The trials will commence in three days. This is the sovereign’s will.”
Vizra’s jaw clenched, her entire body trembling with suppressed rage. But after a long moment, she bowed low. “As you command, my Sovereign.”
Zaxos’s gaze swept over the chamber once more, and the other demon lords quickly followed Vizra’s lead, bowing before their sovereign. The guards dragged Aric to his feet, and he stumbled forward in a clumsy attempt at a bow, his mind reeling. He had known Zaxos’s trials would be no easy path, but this—this was a death sentence, a slow and agonizing torment designed to break him, body and soul.
“Then it is settled,” Zaxos said. “May the trials reveal the truth of the human’s heart, and guide us in the path that is right.”
As Zaxos seated himself once more, the guards yanked Aric back, binding his hands and shoving him forward. Malekith’s eyes burned with a fierce light as he watched Aric go, and though he was silent, it was as if Aric could still hear Malekith’s voice echoing in his head, a balm to his bruised and battered spirit.
Aric, I swear to you, I will protect you. No matter the cost.
Sovereign Zaxos eyed the human with unreadable eyes, seeing him only as a piece to be moved, unknowing, in a greater game.
Aric’s entire being felt shredded, broken, raw. Malekith had vouched for him in the face of certain destruction. And for what? Aric had led the demons to two critical defeats in the human territories. The Sovereign had every right to execute him for his incompetence.
But as Aric scanned the assembly’s faces, he did not see disappointment or malice. He saw hunger, curiosity, a few shreds of disbelief. The gathered demons were practically salivating at the prospect of the trials, at the chance to witness whatever gruesome fate awaited him.
He straightened his back, refusing to be cowed, and met Zaxos’s gaze head-on.
“I accept,” he said, his voice miraculously steady. The guards pushed him forward, and as he passed Zaxos, the ancient demon grinned at him, rows of jagged teeth glinting in the firelight.
A ripple of whispered shock followed him as he was dragged from the throne room. The demon guards threw him back in his cell, and the heavy iron door clanged shut, sealing him once more in darkness.
