Tonic sat alone in a purple room that didn't technically exist—a place he deemed "the in-between", playing chess against himself on a board made of blood crystals.
The pieces were carved from the bones of an ancient creature. And the black pieces had a strange habit of singing funeral hymns when moved. He'd been playing this particular game for six months, though only three hours had passed in the real world.
"Knight to E4," he said to no one.
The piece moved itself, screaming softly.
Through the walls that weren't walls, he could feel the trial unfolding. Joshua and Lysandra, drowning in their own histories. The Overseer, watching with interest that bordered on hunger.
"They don't understand what they're seeing," he told the chess piece in his hand. "A blood mage who shouldn't exist. A princess who chose mercy over tradition. Two broken pieces that somehow fit together."
The black king toppled over without being touched.
"Checkmate in seventeen moves," Tonic said, already resetting the board before pausing. "Unless... you introduce a new piece. One with the ability to break the rules." He sighed. "But chess is far too rigid for something as interesting as that."
His face flashed a bit of amusement.
A tear formed in one of the walls.
Then it widened—an inhuman silhouette entered the realm, the purple energy of the in-between recoiling from its presence.
It was tall. Far too tall.
A silhouette of impossible symmetry, carved from white fire. Six wings unfolded behind it with glasslike plates instead of feathers.
Its face… There was no face.
Just the impression of one, like the outline burned into the eyes after staring at the sun too long.
When it spoke, its voice carried a harmony of a thousand voices.
"You know, don't you, Tonic?"
"I know a lot of things," Tonic corrected, moving a pawn, unbothered by its arrival. "Mind specifying what you mean?"
"About the boy and his power."
"Yes, yes, another system bearer." Tonic didn't look up from the board. "Though he is not the only one, Joshua certainly interests me the most."
"And you've known since the moment he arrived."
"I pay attention, Benevolent One." Another piece moved. Another scream. "About Darius. About you. And about… well, I think I'll keep that to myself."
"My foolish human king of Arial made a grave mistake allowing that boy to walk into your hands."
"That… he did, but nonetheless I won't complain about such fortune. It makes for excellent entertainment, and interesting possibilities."
The being sighed with an ancient frustration at the demon's words. "If the universe didn't love you so, I would slay you where you stand, Tonic the Warden."
Tonic chuckled, reclining back into the space, completely relaxed.
"That train of thought does not make you unique, Benevolent One. However, I can tell you hate me even more than the Overseer. That is impressive in the most pathetic of ways." Tonic finally looked up.
"You know my beloved once told me that the most beautiful changes come from the most unexpected places. I want to see this story through at least for a while."
He tapped the sheath of his dagger once. Just once.
The entire chess board shattered, pieces flying upward, then the entire game rearranged itself with new pieces, a new board, and colors that didn't exist.
"The boy will survive the trial," Tonic said with absolute certainty. "He'll survive because he doesn't know he's supposed to die. He'll win because he doesn't understand the rules. I enjoy wild cards."
The Benevolent One stared at the new game, trying to understand its rules. "You're betting the kingdom's future on uncertainty."
"You jest," Tonic smiled, and it was the face of someone who'd already seen the ending. "There's no such thing as a gamble if I'm around."
He stood, walking past the entity.
"Where are you going?"
"To watch more closely. The real trial isn't memory, Benevolent One. It's what comes after."
As he left, the game began to play itself.