Blaise leaned against the railing of the arena as he watched the other soldiers train. They moved quickly, and in fluid movements, almost like cats. Harmonized to an invisible beat, wearing black leather combat gear covering them from head to toe. And the beat led them into two parallel lines. A bell rang and the two groups started clashing, they used kicks and punches, yet dodged each attack flawlessly. The bell rang again, and they paused and started to pull out weapons, some had swords, others with daggers, maces, and some even with bows and arrows.

As the battle unfolded Blaise watched. I'll be

One of them soon he thought.

Part of Blaise felt ambition. Cold, sticky, scary ambition. To make use of the position he was in. To manipulate the darkness. Like his darkness. Blaise let himself a small smile, even though another part of him shouted.

What?! How are you even considering this?

So he shoved the smile back down and frowned in disgust.

"Blaise," a deep voice said behind him he jumped " You're starting training tomorrow" he said as Blaise picked up his gear.

Blaise kept his expression neutral and turned around.

Desmos clicked his fingers and Blaise snapped to attention. The voice in his mind muttered

When he calls, you come. Like a good little puppy dog. Pleasing your master no matter the cost. You should be the master. You shouldn't be the dog. Even if that means you're a monster.

Desmos eyed Blaise. "Do you care about Skye in any shape or form?" He asked. Blaise was startled. What does he want me to say?

When he calls, you come, the voice echoed through his mind

"Yes, and I won't st-" Blaise started before Desmos had clicked again, and Blaise found black tendrils of dark magic surrounding him, curling around his neck, grasping at his mouth and eyes, pulling, stretching out and morphing. Choking him and trying to worm its way into his body. Blaise squeezed his eyes shut, and clenched his teeth.

"You should let go of her. Before I use it against you. Advice out of sympathy. But, it's not like you have a choice." Desmos said. Then it stopped, the black magic stopped and died out. As Desmos left, Blaise spoke the rest of the sentence internally.

I won't stop caring.

Half to himself, half as a promise to the world.

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