4. Kieran

4

KIERAN

M y scrying mirror ripples, its silvery surface revealing Aria in the midst of a particularly gruesome lesson. I lean forward in my obsidian throne, drinking in every detail of her discomfort. She's currently tasked with reanimating a partially decomposed corpse in practical necromancy. Her face is a delightful mix of revulsion and determination.

"Come now, little hexeblood," I murmur, a smile playing at the corners of my lips. "Show me what you're capable of."

Aria's hands tremble as she begins the incantation, her voice faltering on the guttural syllables of the dead tongue. The corpse twitches, then falls still. Failure. I watch as shame and frustration war on her face.

"Again," Professor Stillbloom's voice rings out, cold and unforgiving.

As Aria steels herself for another attempt, my mind drifts to my own education centuries ago. The brutality, the constant threat of death or worse – it forged me into the dark magician I am today. I remember the sting of the shadow whips, the burn of fel fire as I struggled to master each lesson.

"You'll thank me for this one day," I whisper to Aria's image. "Pain is the greatest teacher."

Throughout my day, I focus in on her other classes. In each, I see her struggling, always on the edge of breaking but never quite shattering.

It's... impressive.

With a thought, I summon the head faculty of Ravencrest to my study. "The hexeblood girl," I begin without preamble. "She's not being pushed hard enough."

Professor Shadowmere, a gaunt figure with eyes like bottomless pits, speaks first. "But my lord, we've already increased the difficulty of her curriculum beyond what any first-year has-"

"Not. Hard. Enough," I interrupt, my voice a low growl that sends visible shivers through the assembled deans. "I want her tested to her absolute limits. Break her if you must, but find the edges of her power."

They bow hastily, murmuring assent before fleeing my presence. As the door closes behind them, a new presence makes itself known. "My, my, Kieran. Such interest in a mere mortal girl. One might think you've gone soft."

I turn, keeping my face an impassive mask as I regard Lady Frostwhisper, one of my chief rivals in the Winter Court. She lounges against a bookshelf, all predatory grace and barely veiled ambition. "Careful, Frostwhisper," I warn, ice creeping into my tone. "Your jealousy is showing."

She laughs, a sound like breaking icicles. "Jealousy? Of that little human pet? Hardly. I'm merely... concerned. The great Demon Lich, obsessing over a novice witch. It's unseemly."

I'm across the room in an instant, my hand at her throat. "You forget yourself," I hiss. "My interests are my own, and far beyond your comprehension. Do not test me again."

Fear flashes in her eyes before she masks it with a coy smile. "Of course, my lord. I meant no offense." She bows and takes her leave, but I know this isn't the end of it. The court sharks smell blood in the water.

Shaking off the encounter, I return to my scrying. It's time for a closer look. With a gesture, I wrap myself in shadow magic, becoming invisible to all but the most perceptive eyes. In this form, I glide through the halls of Ravencrest, observing Aria unseen.

Suddenly, her eyes flash with an otherworldly light. The room temperature plummets, and shadows dance at her fingertips. The other students recoil, their fear now genuine and palpable. Aria looks at her hands in shock, clearly unaware of what she's just done.

Her first accidental use of hexeblood power. Exquisite.

I feel a thrill course through me, equal parts excitement and calculation. The potential in her is even greater than I'd hoped. With proper guidance, she could become a force to rival the greatest powers in the Faewild.

After I finish lunch, I summon her at my leisure and she enters cautiously, her eyes darting around the room, taking in the arcane artifacts and forbidden tomes that line the walls.

"Aria," I greet her, my voice smooth as silk. "I trust you're finding your studies... enlightening?"

She swallows hard before answering. "Yes, Lord Kieran. It's... intense."

I smile, savoring her discomfort. "Good. But I fear your training lacks a certain... personal touch. It's time you learned a particularly useful skill."

Wariness fills her eyes. "What kind of skill?"

I circle her slowly like a predator sizing up its prey. "You're going to summon a fetch – a perfect copy of yourself to take your place in the mortal world."

Her eyes widen in shock. "But... why? I don't understand."

"To sever your ties completely, my dear," I explain, my voice a low purr. "Your fetch will have all your memories, believing itself to be you. It will live your life, freeing you to fully embrace your destiny here. A mercy if you think about it. Don't be so selfish. Now come."

I can see the conflict in her eyes – fear warring with a deep, unacknowledged desire for the power I'm offering.

"I don't know if I can-" she begins, her voice trembling.

"You can, and you will," I interrupt, my tone brooking no argument.

I guide her through the complex incantation, watching as shadows coalesce before us, taking Aria's form. The doppelganger opens its eyes, a perfect mirror of confusion and fear. "Who... What am I?" it asks, its voice identical to Aria's.

Aria stares, horrified and fascinated. "It's me," she whispers.

"Indeed," I confirm, satisfaction coursing through me. "Your fetch will return to your world, living your life, never knowing it's not the real you. And you, my dear Aria, are now truly mine."

As the fetch disappears, transported to the mortal realm, I see the weight of finality settle on Aria's shoulders. She's burned her last bridge to her old life.

"Come," I say, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We have much work to do."

As we leave my study, I allow myself a small smile. Aria's journey has truly begun, and I find myself eager to see where it leads us both. The power within her is intoxicating, a siren call to my own dark magic.

But I must be cautious. My growing obsession with her progress is dangerous, a potential weakness that my enemies would exploit without hesitation. I must remember that she is a tool, a means to an end – no matter how fascinating I find her.

And yet... as I watch her walk ahead of me, her posture straight despite the burden of all she's endured, I feel an unfamiliar twinge in my chest. Pride? Possessiveness? Or something more troubling?

I push the thought aside. There will be time to analyze these... complications later. For now, we have a gauntlet of challenges ahead. Aria must be forged in the fires of adversity, tempered by pain and fear until she emerges as the weapon I need her to be.

The Winter Court awaits, and with Aria by my side, I will reshape the very foundations of power in the Fae realms. As we reach the grand doors leading to the main hall of Ravencrest, I lean close to Aria's ear. "Remember, my dear. In this world, power is everything. And you have only begun to taste yours."

She shivers at my words, but I see a flicker of excitement in her eyes. Good. The seeds of ambition are taking root.

The doors swing open, and we step into the crowded hall. All eyes turn to us, a mix of fear, curiosity, and barely disguised hostility. Aria straightens under their gaze, chin held high.

I smile inwardly.

Yes, she'll do nicely.

Let the games begin.