CHAPTER 58: DARK MAGE

The training hall smelled like polished wood and cleaning products thanks to the efforts of Lyra and me. Sunlight filtered through high arched windows, casting long shadows across the scuffed floor. I followed Isobel deeper into the space, my mind still replaying that moment from earlier. Her lips on mine, her fingers caressing my length. God, I was eager to be with her. But she was eager to complete this tour, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. I could last a few more minutes.

"Have I ever told you what I am, Lloyd? I’m sure you’ve guessed." She gave me a shaky smile. "I can’t have you and Lyra calling me ’Demon Queen’ and ’Illusion Mage’ forever."

"I figured you were a Great Old One Warlock or a Twilight Cleric. Those Eldritch Blasts and that Armor of Agathys Spell have me leaning towards Warlock, though. Lyra was confident you were a Twilight Cleric, however. Judging by your expression, though, I’m guessing it’s not that simple?"

She shook her head, smile weakening further. Her fingers twirled in her dress as she averted her gaze.

I stepped forward, pulling her into a tight hug. "Isobel, you aren’t going to scare me away. Tell me what it is."

She leaned into me. "I know you won’t, Lloyd. It’s..." She sighed, pulling away and straightening. Isobel looked up at me, eyes determined. "I’m a Dark Mage."

I blinked. "Just... like Jolyne."

"And her father. And Isabella herself."

Despite the initial surprise, her words made sense the more I thought about them. It should’ve been obvious, considering our recent battle. Isobel was a spellblade–the most obvious tell that she was a Dark Mage! When Demon Lord Isobel fought Lyra, she hadn’t used her rapier. She’d never used a blade, period! As far as we were concerned, bladed Isobel was uncharted territory.

"How’d you learn you were a Dark Mage?"

Isobel’s voice dropped like we were sharing secrets in the dark. "It just... happened! I hardly ever used magic as a child, but I decided that I’d try using it against Grandfather in a mock duel. He, of course, didn’t go easy on me despite my being a child. So, angered at the prospect of being humiliated and unwilling to withstand his goading taunts, I blasted him with all of the aura my little body could muster." She chuckled. "I blasted him across the battlefield! He celebrated my victory that day, but then they had me take a magic assessment test and learned what I was, and suddenly the celebrations ended. The Instructors here were ill-equipped to properly train me, and my parents didn’t want to find someone skilled in raising Dark Mages because anyone with those specific qualifications is immediately considered dangerous–which is fair. House Hilington somehow figured out I was a Dark Mage and offered to raise me up as their Prodigy, but Grandfather vehemently refused."

Dark Mages were difficult. They gained power faster than any other mage, with physical and magical strength that tended to surpass that of their peers. In exchange, though, their bodies tend to surge with aura. If they didn’t have anyone to help them manage it, they’d effectively bury themselves under the weight of their own power.

I said as much to her, curious to know how she’d managed. Isobel shrugged, but there was pride in her eyes that reminded me of her Grandfather.

"I figured it out myself. Reading, experimentation, meditation, exercise. Once I got the hang of my magic, I started sparring against House Greaves’ Paladins. That’s how I learned to fight with an aura-enhanced blade. I’ll admit my technique isn’t masterful, but I’m capable of using full-powered Spells and full-powered blade techniques without compromising on either." She paused, glancing away, then back at me. "That said, I’d be lying if I said those stories of the Demon Queen weren’t alluring to some degree. Knowing I have the potential to become that strong is fascinating!"

"So that’s why you called me here?"

Her smile turned sly. "You know me well, love."

Before I could snap back, she sauntered to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a wooden sword, tossing it to me as she dug around for a wooden blade of her own.

"You sure you wanna fight in a dress?" I asked.

Isobel casually snapped her fingers as she continued to dig through the cabinet. Shadows rippled around her like living ink before... poof! Her dress vanished, replaced by fitted leather pants, a corseted tunic that accentuated her figure, and shin-high combat boots.

"I’ve been wearing this all day."

I whistled low. "What was that dress about, then?"

"I overheard Lyra convincing you to seduce me in an attempt to get out of cleaning duty. Like I said, I was also looking for a reason to stop working, so I decided to let it happen." She finally pulled a well-used rapier out from the cabinet, then winked at me. "Since I knew you were coming soon, I cast the illusion of that black dress I know you love. Pure seduction, Lloyd May. And I clearly chose well."

Heat flushed through me, memories of her hand on me earlier flooding back. I gripped the rapier tighter. "You’re evil, you know that?"

"I am the Demon Lord’s sister," Isobel allowed.

We both laughed, the sound echoing off the hall’s stone walls. She twirled her rapier, aura flickering along the blade like eager whispers.

"Come, Lloyd. I’d like to test myself against you now."

I nodded, falling into a ready stance. "By all means. But didn’t think I’ll go easy on you because you’re my lover."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I’d be disappointed if you did."

The hall seemed to shrink as we circled each other at the center of the hall, air humming with anticipation. I lunged first, blade thrusting in a feint, but she parried effortlessly, illusory shadows coiling to deflect the blow.

"Too slow," Isobel taunted, countering with a sweep that nearly caught my leg.

I dodged it, backstepping and creating distance. Isobel’s eyes were as cocky as ever, but something had changed. Something I planned on exploiting to ensure my victory.