I felt Grusbalesta’s power course through my body—no, more than my body. Grusbalesta resonated with my very being and with each pulse of power, my Will bent and rent the laws of the universe.



With a thought, I summoned my black lighting, shaping it with my Will and a crackling circle of Dark energies radiated outwards from me. It killed all but the most resilient of King Grimm’s resonators, but left Rachel and my father’s magic stones unharmed.



Slowly, I condensed my lightning into a baleful black sword. It looked much like a hole was made in reality, shaped like an ever-shifting ebon blade. But no, I was still too exhausted to properly fight. Though my body was weak, my Will still burned. I simply needed to find a way to amplify it.



I felt something forming within Grusbalesta and summoned the resonator from within. With a gentle flop, Blazer Rabus falls from the side of the stone and uneasily stands up. He tests his legs for a bit before pulling out a knife from thin air with a purple flash of magic.



“Rabus?” I asked, turning to the resonator. Naturally, it didn’t respond. The doll radiated a sinister aura, though that was true of all Darkness-based magics so I didn’t think much of it. There was something else there, though. Blazer Rabus felt very much like a Magic Stone and I could use him as a conduit for my powers.



I hurried to summon another, but forming another copy of the resonator was too slow to be useful. Another approach, then.



As a fighter, Rabus wasn’t too strong. Its body made of silk and down was much too soft to do too much damage, and despite its magical nature, the knife he wielded wasn’t too much stronger than a mundane one.



I had a better plan.



Rabus attacked the Fairy Tales trying to destroy the magic stones, retreating before they could retaliate. He was distracting them. Good.



I tried to reach out to the soldiers I felt earlier, but could no longer find them. They either joined the vanguard, retreated, or died. No good. I needed much better range for what I wanted to do.



Rabus wouldn’t last much longer, so I ordered it to retreat. Just in time too, as I managed to summon another copy of Rabus from within Grusbalesta. I set the fresh fighter as the distraction while the other Rabus would escape towards the surface.



Where Rabus’ body hindered him as a fighter, it helped him for infiltration. In truth, I have no need to infiltrate my own castle, but the ability to squeeze through gaps helped me keep the resonator within my range, while also using his properties to extend the same.



It was hard being able to see through three pairs of eyes, but I managed with enough straining. Through the first Rabus’ eyes, I finally managed to find Sol. He was fighting valiantly alongside his students but was rapidly losing ground.



Even with the power of Luminary Demons, a power that rivalled Will, the three Dark Commanders were still being overwhelmed by the Fairy Tale force. Hordes of fairy tales continued to pour in through the cracks in Altea’s barriers.



Rabus couldn’t talk, but he grabbed Sol’s pant leg to call his attention. Sol gave the doll a bare minimum of his attention, though through Rabus’ eyes.



Prince, is that you? He thought through the mental link of resonance. Rabus nodded.



With an effort, I reshaped the Will that composed Rabus’ body into an exact replica of the crackling blade in my hand. It was difficult. Much more difficult than shaping lightning into a sword and certainly much more difficult than summoning another copy of Rabus from Grusbalesta.



It was difficult, but my Will prevailed.



Even without the convenience of words, Sol understood my plan. He grabbed the base of the lightning sword, even though it’s shifting form lashed out at him and slowly flayed his left hand.



He brought my sword together with the Rune of Sol, combining the two weapons into an even greater blade. Will and Mana brought together in the shape of a keen blade—a power previously wielded only by my father was now in Sol’s hands.



With a sweep of magic, Sol banished all of Grimm’s resonators.



I would have cheered, but I very quickly found myself face to face with the floor.



---



When I blinked my eyes open, I was no longer in the comfortable darkness of the dungeon. Instead, I saw the familiar violet curtains that decorated my bed and the red and gold color scheme of my room. Sitting on a chair by my writing desk was my favorite toy, Blazer Rabus. I willed him to move, but he didn’t.



The real one, then.



The hearty smell of soup began to fill my room as an unassuming servant entered, carrying with her a tray of food. “Oh,” she exclaimed, her cart halfway through the door. “Prince Lapis. You’re awake,” she spoke plainly, bringing the tray to my side. “Can you feed yourself?”



I nodded. I wasn’t a cripple, I thought with some measure of offense. I suppose some doting was in order. I did resonate with the True Stone of Darkness, after all.



“Very well. I shall inform the king,” she said, bowing slightly as she did so. She took small, hurried steps which grew softer as she disappeared further down the hall.



I took the time to contemplate, as well as to test my connection to the stone, taking only the occasional sip of my soup. It was mostly bland, but had a weird artificial taste to it that reminded me of times I spent sick as an even younger child. Nostalgic, pleasant and unpleasant at the same time.



I’ve barely finished half my soup before my father silently walked into the room. His steps were measured and, though he was clearly shaken about the attack on the castle, he made an effort to put up a strong front.



“You resonated with Grusbalesta.” A question, but stated as fact.



I could only nod blankly before my father swept me up in his arms and enveloped me in a long hug.



“It was only a matter of time,” he said proudly. I planted my face in the fine fabrics of his robe and could feel the subtle magics within the weave. “Even though you resonated with a True Magic Stone, your Will is yet weak, but it will grow stronger with time.”



“Who shall teach me the ways of Rulers, father?” I asked.



“I shall, after a fashion. Parts of the castle are in ruins and Altea is in disarray,” the King replied.



“What about… What about Instructor Sol?” I asked with more than a bit of hesitation. The last I saw of him, he was wielding a blade crafted of Ice, Fire and Darkness in tandem. He had been the one to end King Grimm’s siege, not me.



“Sol is… yet to be found. Mars and Mercurius have been ordered to decipher and continue his research.”



I inhaled sharply. While my gamble to combine Sol’s powerful Steam Mana with my Darkness Will had repelled the attack of the Fairy Tales, it had cost us Altea’s second most powerful mage. Even Mars, Mercurius and I working in tandem couldn’t quite match up to his magical prowess.



I was a Ruler now. I would simply have to make up the difference.



---



It was a month before I felt strong enough to start walking through the castle again—time I spent to help the Dark Commanders in deciphering Sol’s research. In truth, I wasn’t much help, but writing and reading helped stave off the feeling of ennui that inevitably built up during my relatively long confinement.



Over the course of that month, I felt the wards being rebuilt, destroyed and rebuilt again. The constant destruction and rebuilding of the castle’s barriers put me on edge, as if there was going to be another siege. Intellectually, though, I knew that it was my father tearing down the wards and rebuilding them where he found them lacking. Besides, not even the forces of Light would be so bold as to attempt another siege when a recent one had failed… right?



I felt part of the barrier collapse again, then rebuilt with my father’s Dark Mana. It was weird sensing the barrier like this, but since resonating with Grusbalesta, my ability to detect magic has increased a hundredfold. It was weird, much like developing a new sense or seeing color for the first time and it kept me up some nights, slowing my recovery.



Slowly, I made my way to the throne room where my father was already entertaining an audience. Beside him, Rachel stood, holding a clipboard and looking nervous. Strange. The Court of Night didn’t typically hold court until after sundown, and yet my father was already busy. He had a sour look on his face as he listened to the concerns of the Alteans.



Even distracted, the king tore down parts of the barrier, rebuilding them. While the king himself had no tell, Rachel’s eyes shifted nervously whenever my father modified the barrier. Despite her discomfort, she remained unmoving by the king’s side.



When the king’s eyes momentarily scanned the crowd, I made a small motion to get his attention. He turned his head so his crimson eyes met mine. Rachel, who seemed much like a living statue by the king, turned and did the same.



She turned to face the crowd and, with an unexpectedly loud voice, “All rise! Hail Gill Lapis, Prince of Altea, Ruler of True Darkness.”



I was no stranger to my presence being announced, but the second title was new to me. Ruler of True Darkness. It felt simultaneously like a well-tailored coat and a robe much too big to fit me comfortably.



A portal of purple light opened by my father’s throne and a smaller one, an imitation of his, but less detailed, slowly rose from the portal. A tumorous chunk of granite was affixed to the apex of its backboard—a facsimile of The Stone of Knowledge, Grusbalesta to contrast with the ten amethysts that decorated my father’s own throne.



The court rose to acknowledge me, though my father remained seated being the only person in the room who outranked me. I strode confidently to the smaller throne, suddenly feeling much smaller in its embrace with the likeness of the Stone of Knowledge fixed atop my head.



Murmurs quickly spread through the crowd. Those less educated in the audience speculated on the meaning of the chunk of worthless stone fixed to the top of my throne while those knowledgeable in the ways of magic spoke in disbelieving whispers about how I resonated with the True Stone of Darkness.



I sat by my father as he decided matters for the country, observing him and learning so that I, too, may be trusted to make important decisions when I rise to the throne. For hours, even as the sun grew high in the sky, then made itself low to give way to the darkness of the night, father made decision after decision, either accepting or rejecting the supplication of the petitioners. As integral as the experience was to my formation as royalty, I soon grew weary of merely sitting and observing. Father must have noticed my growing fatigue as when dusk made itself known, he gave a subtle signal to Rachel who excused me from the crowd.



I followed her through the corridors of Castle Altea to the place where Sol taught me swordfighting. It was one lesson to another, it seemed, as within the training hall, Varna, the captain of the guard awaited within. A captain, which, despite the title, was still considered below the Dark Commanders in rank.



With dusky skin and light, sandy hair, Captain Varna was of obviously middle-eastern descent. He was an import of sorts from one of my father’s old friends—a far-eastern vampire by the name of Seijuro Mikage.



A large, imposing, muscular man, one would not be faulted in thinking Captain Varna was one of the Oni race. He was trained with the usage of the more typical swords of the far-east and the exotic weapons of the middle-east. He once shared a rivalry with Instructor Sol and the two were fairly close in terms of swordsmanship skill.



Even as I entered, Varna did not rise from the strange way he sat on the balls of his feet. From what little I remember of eastern culture, the strange way of sitting was their way of showing respect and painful to do for extended periods of time.



“Captain Varna,” I acknowledged. At that, Rachel bowed slightly to both of us, then left.



“Prince Lapis,” he said back before standing from his seated position. He bowed low to me, much lower than the bows typical of Altea.



“There’s no need to be so stiff, Captain Varna. I believe you will be my new swordsmanship instructor?” I asked. He responded with a simple nod before handing me a blunted steel sword. A far cry from both the wooden swords Instructor Sol and I practiced with and my own lightweight steel sword, the blunted practice sword was heavy. Though blunted, it would still be an effective bludgeon and a successful hit would still be quite painful.



“I would like to see how much Sol has taught you. Please, try to hit me,” Captain Varna said, his accent a mix of both middle and far eastern. He took up a stance, holding up his own practice sword in front of him. He was so stiff and serious—straight to the point. Not to say that Sol meandered when he spoke, but at least there was a certain warmth in the way he taught. In an attempt to get Captain Varna to be less uptight, I decided to change the subject.



“How is Lady Shara? I haven’t seen her in a long while,” I said. The vampire girl looked older than me when I first visited the far-east with my father about three years ago. I doubted that she had aged any in that time and I suspected that I looked a bit older than her.



“I do not know, prince. I have not had correspondence with the far-east in quite some time,” Captain Varna said, tightening his grip on his sword. “I was part of Lady Yashahime’s personal guard so I would not have had much contact with Lady Shara besides.” After a pause, he added, “If you will begin, Prince Lapis?”



I frowned. Captain Varna, it seemed, was not much for small talk, though I simply had to admire the man for his dedication to his new position as my personal instructor.



I opened with a strike to his head, which he blocked at the last moment. The block was so fast and so explosive that it reversed my inertia, sending my sword stumbling back. Despite the wide opening, Captain Varna did not strike and instead merely returned to his previous stance.



After regaining my composure, I followed up with a sideways slash at his side, which he again blocked and then a thrust which he dodged by stepping back. Captain Varna then shoved aside my weapon by swiping at my sword’s foible. The strike was precise and efficient and Captain Varna, it seemed, would not pull punches like Instructor Sol did on occasion.



“Retrieve your sword. Try again,” Captain Varna instructed, his voice cold and steely. There was, perhaps, a bit of disappointment there, which frustrated me.



I went over to my sword and imitated Captain Varna’s stance. I took a single stride to close the distance between me and the Captain and immediately launched into a flurry of strikes. A swipe to the side, then ankle, then a thrust to the solar plexus were all blocked in the same ruthless, efficient manner that he used to block all my previous strikes.



I was not the type to surrender. Just as well, as I could not be prince if I were.



I stepped back and to the side, before launching into another chain of attacks. I attempted to strike the Captain’s wrist in order to make him drop his sword, but a strike to a limb was a risky proposition in the first place and he merely had to raise his hands a fraction to dodge my attack. Just as well, as that left his torso open to attack. The strike turned into a thrust, which he countered by striking at my sword’s foible, sending the weapon flying once again.



This time, I managed to keep my grip on the hilt, but doing so left a wide opening which Captain Varna, again, did not exploit. I continued to launch wild attacks at him, though he managed to block each one with perfect timing. Each blocked strike added to my growing frustration,



“I certainly hope that is not the swordsmanship that Sol taught you. You would dishonor h--”



“Don’t,” I interrupted. Arcs of black lightning danced along my forearms at the mention of my former instructor. I still felt some guilt that infusing Instructor Sol with my Will may have killed him. Captain Varna had picked at a still-fresh wound.



“Hmph. Your sword fighting is naïve. While it would be acceptable for a Prince, it is sub-par for a Ruler. Especially not one attuned to the Stone of Knowledge,” Captain Varna said, studying me. “You are hot-headed and make even more mistakes when you do not succeed. It is disappointing that Sol insufficiently prepared you for becoming a Ruler. No matter, I will correct h--”



I cut him off with a frustrated yell. I tossed the practice sword to the side and with an effort of Will, produced two blades of dancing black lightning from each palm. Their bases were wrapped in bloody bandages, the loose ends of which fluttered about as they were buffeted by the force of my magic.



I connected the two blades by the base, making them similar in form to that of the Rune of Sol. It just felt right.



They say that the things a Ruler can call from a Magic Stone were representations of the things that resided within their psyche. So what does it say about me that I recreated Sol’s weapon in the image of my Dark Will?