An indistinct, echoing noise sounded somewhere in the distance, jolting Frederick back to his senses. He was awake, that much he knew, but he couldn't see anything, nor did there appear to be any ground beneath his feet; he seemed to be trapped in some kind of void, as though floating in an immense vacuum, enfolded by an endless stretch of blackness. For one horrifying moment he feared that he had gone blind, even deaf. But that didn't make any sense, not with the noise he had heard only seconds before. Where was he? Why couldn't he see anything?

The noise again, louder this time, but still garbled.

Frederick closed his eyes, thinking hard, trying to remember what had happened for him to have ended up here. Broken images flitted to the forefront of his mind: a shining silver sword, buried halfway along its length into a large marble block, its hilt embedded with a glittering black stone; an immense dark dragon, with teeth like silver rapiers; another sword, this one hilted with a purple gem, flying up to his chest; a soft golden glow, and a warm, pleasant taste in his mouth, like a combination of his favourite meals in the past; finishing with a blood-red sky, a disk of gold streaking through the air, a dull pain, and the sensation of falling backwards — then, nothing —

And he remembered. Everything that had happened came rushing back to him as his mind registered his descent into nothingness, with such force that he felt suddenly lightheaded. He had been knocked off the brown dragon, Cerea’s, back, sent plummeting into a raging pool of darkness — because of Milius Manchester.

The name registered with an accompanying surge of white-hot fury, but his rage was almost instantly forgotten as, for the third time, the noise broke the stillness again, reminding him of where he was.

Frederick reached out, groping in the blackness, but his fingers found nothing but empty space. It was as though he was floating in midair, in a world without sunlight. He tried to speak. He felt his mouth working, but no sound came out. Again he wondered, had he gone deaf? And again it occurred to him — if that were the case, how could he have heard that noise earlier —

“BOY!”

The bellow seemed to come from the very darkness, crashing against his eardrums with such force that his hands flew to his ears automatically, whether to soothe the pain or block out the noise, he didn't know. He let out a cry of pain, but it was lost to his own ears.

“Ah, there we are. The human tongue was always difficult to adjust to. But you can understand me now, can't you?”

The volume of the voice had been lowered to a bearable, almost pleasant pitch. Frederick removed his hands slowly from his ears, looking around, still seeing nothing, but now he could feel some kind of disturbance around him, as though the darkness were writhing, alive like the winds of an evening breeze.

“Who are you?” he tried to say, but again his words were lost in the void. It seemed, however, that whatever had spoken had somehow heard him.

“I? Even you should be able to work that one out, I think.”

Frederick hesitated. “You're the Void Giant, Alcyeoneus.”

“Indeed, indeed,” the voice said, sounding pleased. “And you are Frederick Kohen, are you not?”

“How do you know that?”

“Answer the question!” The voice boomed out in its original intensity, heavy with menace.

“Yes, yes I am!” Frederick said hastily.

With an abrupt and unnerving return to its earlier casual tone, the Void Giant continued, “Very good. Well, Frederick Kohen, you are in quite the predicament, now, aren't you?”

From the note of amusement in its voice, Frederick thought the question was a rhetorical one. But he answered just in case. “I don't understand, where am I? Am I — dead?”

Alcyeoneus sighed, a heavy, rumbling sound like distant thunder. “Life, death — trivial human afflictions.”

“Trivial?” said Frederick, who felt anger rising in spite of himself. “If you knew what it was like —”

“But I don't know,” Alcyeoneus said simply. “Because I am not human. I'm a god.”

“A dark god.”

“Ah, pish posh.” Alcyeoneus’s voice was light and patient. “You use that word incorrectly. In the context of which you state it, ‘dark’ implies evil. I am not evil.”

“You're trying to destroy the world!” Frederick said in disbelief.

“Quite,” Alcyeoneus replied, still in that same calm, easy tone, as though speaking with a friend over tea. “But destruction is not necessarily evil. It is a vital process, necessary for new growth. Death is a natural human process, is it not? Do you call it ‘evil’ when an elder drifts away in his sleep? Destruction is no more evil than death. I am dark in terms of opposing nature, but nature has its own darkness. Feral magical creatures, the savageness of your mundane animals, natural disasters, human violence — I am no more evil than any of them.”

“Right,” Frederick snorted. “Can you just tell me why I'm here? If you're going to kill me, get it over with.”

Alcyeoneus chuckled. “Impatient, aren't you? That is the problem with humanity. Unable to appreciate the finer things. Very well, Frederick Kohen. My purpose here: I am not like the gods of earth, I come from a different space, an inverse space. Manifesting in this space requires extra . . . assistance, much like if a nature god tries to manifest in my environment. I solved this problem earlier by using the pools of natural energy below the earth to maintain my true form, but that requires much effort to keep the pools open, and I grow weary of the constant need to feed on the life force of this realm. I have a different proposal now. It involves you.”

“What would you want with me?” Frederick asked, both suspicious and apprehensive.

“Humans are born of this realm. Their own mana forms and maintains a direct, continuous link to the earth; they have a natural footing here. I want to take you as my vessel, to ensure my own easy tether to this plane.”

Alcyeoneus spoke the words as casually as one would comment on the weather. Frederick’s eyes flew open and he stared at the blank expanse of darkness, horrified.

“You what?”

“The process will be quick, smooth, and painless,” Alcyeoneus said, in what he must have assumed was a kind, reassuring sort of voice.

“No, you can't!” Frederick cried. He wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go; the darkness around him began to seethe more furiously, closing in around him, pressing deeper.

“I assure you, human, I can.”

The words had issued as a threat, but, quite strangely, they had the opposite effect on Frederick. He felt his fright ebb away, leaving his mind oddly cool and clear.

“No,” he murmured, “you can't.”

“Hmm? What's that?” Alcyeoneus said carelessly.

“That's why you're talking to me,” Frederick continued. “You can't just do it, you need me to agree, don't you?”

“Preposterous!” Alcyeoneus snarled. “Of course I can!”

“Then do it,” Frederick said. “Possess me, or whatever. Go right ahead.”

There was no response. A tiny part of Frederick waited with trepidation as the silence stretched on. But even after what felt like hours, nothing happened.

“That's what I thought,” Frederick said, as the movement of the darkness slowed. “The same way you couldn't take the sword unless I died, is the same way you can't take my body without my say-so.”

A deep, thunderous laugh echoed out of the darkness, but Frederick was no longer afraid. “Clever monkey, are you?” Alcyeoneus jeered. “Yes, boy, you've called my bluff. Powerful though I may be, I still have to respect certain rules of this material realm. I cannot occupy your body unless you expressly offer consent. You should feel proud. Only, you don't have a choice in the matter. You are entirely at my mercy here, or did you forget your little dive into my pool?”

“Why do you need me?” Frederick asked, ignoring this. “Can't you just take any human?”

“My children and peers can take any consenting body they wish — though they don't need to, they are quite capable of manifesting on this wretched planet on their own — but only very few humans can withstand my presence. I felt it the moment you made contact with my essence: you could. Hence why you are still here, making snide comments. I shielded you from my own powers, drew back, brought you here.”

“What happens if I do say yes?” Frederick probed him.

“My essence will essentially replace yours, expelling your soul outwards.”

“Not a very good bargainer, are you?” Frederick mused.

“I am merely telling you what will — eventually — happen. The longer you resist, the longer you stay here. You could always go mad from the isolation, in which case it would be quite easy to lift a simple “Yes” from those irreverent lips of yours. Or I could simply torture you until you submit. Whichever I choose, you will lose.”

“I have a different idea.”

“Hoh? What's this, then?”

“An eternity of torture doesn't sound very pleasant,” Frederick said, “so it doesn't look like I'll have much of a choice. But, seeing as though you're so powerful, if I do say yes, you're going to make sure I don't die.”

“I beg your pardon?” the Void Giant rumbled, sounding bewildered.

“You said if you possessed me that my own soul would end up passing on. If I say yes, you're going to keep that from happening. We both get to stay. That, or no deal.”

“HOW DARE YOU?” Alcyeoneus roared. “You insolent — You dare defy —”

“And another thing,” Frederick went on, speaking over him. “My friends, Cole and Hestia. Whatever you're planning to do with the Dragonknights, you'll leave them out of it. Torture me if you want, you'll never hear a yes unless you agree.”

There was a long pause. Then —

“Very well,” Alcyeoneus said. “We shall have to do something about your attitude, but if that is all I will need to ensure it — then the bargain is acceptable.”

“How do I know you'll keep your word?”

“Lying is an aspect of human nature. I thought I told you — I am not human.”

“So what happened earlier then?” Frederick demanded.

If the darkness could shrug, Frederick imagined it did. “Withholding information and presenting false statements are two very different concepts. But I assure you, Frederick Kohen, it shall be done.”

Frederick hesitated again. So far he had managed to remain calm, even in the face of the Giant’s wrath, but as the word was to rise from his lips, his heart suddenly began to pound again. “Yes,” he breathed, after what seemed an eternity.

The darkness around him suddenly flared, burning with a brilliant white glow, and it began to shift again. But this time the darkness was moving with purpose rather than restlessness. Glowing plumes broke away from the cocoon of light, streaming towards him, and he felt his mouth open against his will. The glowing sheets of light poured into his mouth, into his nose, boring into his eyes — his body felt as though it was stretching, a balloon filled to bursting point. He wanted to scream, but the light seemed to forcing the hoarse cry further down his throat as it filtered into him —

Then the glare died down, and the aches of his body vanished with it. He felt a sudden rush of energy. He opened his eyes, and looked around. It seemed that he hadn't even changed position; everything around him was still black. He looked down, and saw a faint glimmer of red light. Then he looked up, and saw the silvery face of the moon, shining down upon him. He looked down again, and gasped — there was no ground beneath his feet.

He was, as he had felt before Alcyeoneus had spoken to him, floating in midair above a giant gap.

“Where am I?” he wondered, and he was relieved to find that he could hear his voice at last.

Alcyeoneus spoke, but this time his voice sounded, not from the darkness around him, but inside Frederick’s own head. “This is the battlefield where I was resurrected.”

“You did this,” Frederick said, aghast. “You destroyed everything. You killed —”

“Animals, some travellers — nothing of importance. Your friends managed to escape. But that is not our focus right now, Frederick Kohen.”

“Then what is?”

“Look.”

As though an enormous hand had forced his spine downwards, Frederick felt his head bend, peering down into the depths of the great void. He watched for a few seconds. Nothing happened.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Patience,” Alcyeoneus breathed.

And then it happened: hundreds upon hundreds of dark shapes came streaming upwards, like countless living shadows, with what looked like a mound of rippling blue energy soaring up in their wake. The shapes all crowded around Frederick, blending in with the darkness, yet the beatings of their wings, their restless movements, allowed him to make out their positions.

“My Lord.”

It was a female voice, but it had the same raspy, distant, ancient quality that Alcyeoneus’s had. Frederick turned and saw a woman — a woman the size of the very dragons the Dragonknights rode — gazing down at him. She seemed more shadow than substance, her skin a haze of greyish smoke, draped in a flowing black dress whose ends withered into willowing wisps of darkness, her eyes burning like stars in the night sky.

“An interesting choice of vessel,” she said, surveying him pensively. “But . . . that can't be right. The human soul is —”

“Still present, Periboia. But no matter. Where are the rest?”

“Bringing it up as we speak.”

“‘It’?” Frederick repeated, bewildered. “What's ‘it’?” But fresh ripples in the darkness below caught his eye; he looked down and saw, quite clearly, it. It was an enormous, magnificent castle, as shadowy as Periboia herself, but rising through the void supported by four figures as large as Periboia.

“What the —”

“Come, Frederick Kohen,” Alcyeoneus said. “Let me welcome you to my home.”