When he opened his eyes, Sir Zenith found himself inside an unfamiliar cell. It was small and narrow, with a heavy iron door on one end. Aside from the faint glow of his armor crystals, there was no light.
Carefully, he shifted to an upright position, then climbed to his feet. As he did, he realized his shield and sword were missing. He glanced around the cell, but as expected, found no trace of them.
What had happened? The last thing he remembered, he'd been rushing toward Theo and Ryan, trying to stop the guard menacing them. But a wall of orange light had flooded his vision, and then....
Theo. No matter where he might be, his first course of action was clear. He needed to reestablish contact with his wizard.
Closing his eyes, Zenith reached for his Levia. He found his own power quickly enough. Though slightly dim, the light remained strong and steady.
Yet something was missing. Try as he might, he could not detect a trace of dawn light.
'No, this can't be – ' but his sensors didn't lie. Theo's Levia was subtle, a whisper at the edge of his consciousness, but Zenith had come to think of it as inextricably a part of his being. Without it, he felt unmoored, adrift.
But he didn't feel empty. Because...because something else was there, reaching into his core the same way Theo's Levia did.
Except it felt nothing like Theo's gentle glow, a light that supported and lent him strength. This Levia was an uncontrolled blaze, intent on destroying everything in its wake. Wherever it touched his Levia, his light flickered and faded.
Zenith clenched his teeth and gripped his head. 'Fight it back!' But no matter how hard he shoved against the unfamiliar Levia, it flames only seared hotter.
Orange light flashed from up front, throwing him out of his useless struggle. Zenith stared as a diagram spread across the floor, composed of the same harsh power trying to consume his body.
When the diagram disappeared, a boy was standing there. He grinned at Zenith, a greedy gleam in his bright blue eyes.
"Hello there," the boy said. "I'm Oliver Enson, your new wizard."
All at once, everything clicked into place. Lyura had served the same purpose as she had in her fight against Avia – to provide a distraction. Oliver's true goal had been to capture him.
Zenith took a step backward, then another. "You are wrong."
"Nope, I don't think so!" Oliver clapped his hands together. "I'm sure you can feel it, can't you? My Levia. Our contract."
A spell that could not only break contracts, but create a new one on the spot. Just how powerful were the Ensons?
Nevertheless, Zenith still possessed his mind and will. As long as he did, he refused to give in.
"It is illegitimate. I did not consent to this," he snapped. "My true wizard is Theo. Release me."
"No, your wizard is me. I made the contract, I chose you." Oliver stepped forward, face flushed unpleasantly. "Besides, that emo kid's just some nobody from a no-name family. I'm the Enson heir. I know how to use a homunculus, to bring out its full potential."
He giggled violently, the sound grating against Zenith's ears. "I can't believe my luck. Now I'm the master of two homunculi! I don't think there's another wizard on Earth who can say the same. Ohhh, I can't wait to test you out!"
With each word he spoke, Zenith's disgust deepened. This selfish, greedy child believed he had the right to command him?
Absolutely not. Resolved brightened his Levia. The relentless orange flames retreated just a fraction, and that gave Zenith the strength to advance upon Oliver.
"I told you," he said quietly, "I refuse."
"Huh?" Oliver blinked, then scrunched his face. "Are you broken or something? The other homunculus didn't complain as much."
The other homunculus. Right, Zenith couldn't forget the real reason he was here. "Avia. Where is she?"
"Why do you care?" Oliver's face scrunched further. "All you've got to do is obey my orders."
"I will not." Zenith took another step forward, and to his satisfaction Oliver stumbled back. "Return my shield and sword and let me go."
He sharpened his Levia like a blade, slicing through the flames of Oliver's false contract. While it hardly sat right with him to use force on a young boy, he was prepared to do whatever he needed in order to fulfill his mission.
Oliver drew in a shuddering breath, then his face turned scarlet. His Levia seared inside Zenith.
That was all the warning Zenith got before Oliver's Levia erupted. It rushed outward from his core, slicing like a storm of knives. Zenith's vision flooded red. With a clank of armor, he hit the floor on his knees.
While he convulsed, Oliver shrieked from above. "Who do you think you are, giving me orders? Huh? You're just a familiar! I'm your master!"
The words twisted through his chest, intensifying the pain. But Zenith was a knight of Miria; he could endure this. Gritting his teeth, he dug his knuckles into the ground and struggled to rise.
"Get down! Submit! Bow your head to me!" Oliver kept screaming. "Don't you even know that? A familiar obeys his wizard!"
"Yes...that is correct," Zenith hissed through clenched teeth. "I will...obey...the wizard...I have sworn...to serve. And it is...not...you!"
"Silence!" Oliver's Levia spiked, driving needles into his flesh. Then a whip of orange light lashed from Oliver's hand and wrapped around his throat.
It squeezed tight, burning even through his armor. Compared to the pain inside his body, the whip was far more concentrated – like a red-hot iron collar digging into his throat. Sparks danced in his vision.
"Bow to me!" The whip tightened.
Beneath the searing pressure, Zenith managed to choke out, "No."
To his surprise, the whip unraveled. He only had a moment to gasp for breath before it struck him across the face.
The force of the blow knocked him to the side, sending him crashing into the wall. Bits of stone skittered down the wall as he slid to the floor.
"Bow! To! Me!" Oliver screamed, stomping on the floor.
Zenith couldn't speak, but that didn't mean he couldn't answer. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head.
The whip struck again, this time from the other side. The impact flung him away from the wall, throwing him back to the floor. But he didn't have time to catch his bearings before the whip hit him across the back, driving all the breath from his chest.
Again and again the whip flew, hurling him around the cell. He might as well have not been wearing any armor at all; the whip cut as if striking bare skin. If he were human, he surely would have been reduced to a bleeding wreck.
His armor crashed against stone like sickening drumbeats, almost drowning out Oliver's voice. But he heard every word. "Bow! Submit! I am your master!"
Each time, his answer was the same. A fierce, defiant shake of his head.
With the next blow, he landed on his side. Instinctively, he curled up to protect himself, but it startled him when a few seconds passed and nothing happened.
Cautiously, Zenith lifted his head and blinked the tangled hair out of his eyes. Oliver was still in front of him, leaning forward and breathing hard. Sweat glistened on his face, matted his golden curls. There was no sign of the whip, or any spell.
Was he running out of energy? As powerful as he might be, even he couldn't possess limitless Levia.
'Good,' Zenith told himself. 'Let him run himself dry, and then....'
The question was if Zenith would be able to move quickly enough when the opportunity presented itself. Even the slightest twitch spent pain spasming anew through his body.
"Who...who is your master?" Oliver panted, rough with fury.
Zenith answered without hesitation. "Theo."
Oliver's face darkened. When he lifted his hand, Zenith's Levia sparked a warning.
Let it come. Zenith would endure.
Orange light flashed in the cell, making Zenith wince. Wait – it didn't come from the floor beneath Oliver, but the air to his left.
Zenith watched in silent astonishment as a small diagram appeared beside Oliver's head. Its surface rippled before displaying the face of a grizzled man with bushy eyebrows.
A communication spell? Fighting sore muscles, Zenith craned his neck higher.
"What is it now, Morges? I'm busy!" Oliver snapped.
"My apologies, young master." The man's voice sounded tinny and distorted. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I need to provide an update as to the situation."
"What is it?" Oliver shifted from foot to foot, radiating impatience.
Morges drew in a deep breath. "The...the intruders have breached the second floor, young master."
The second floor. Beneath the pain, Zenith felt a glimmer of triumph. Even if he had fallen, the others were still fighting.
Oliver, of course, had the exact opposite reaction. "What did you say?" he bellowed, spittle flying from his mouth. "You and your useless guards, what are you even doing? Why haven't you released the dragon yet?"
"My deepest apologies, young master." Morges lowered his head. "For the dragon, we require your presence in the control room. Only from there can you release it and coordinate its attack. Your parents designed this system to ensure your safety."
"Ugh, really?" Oliver rubbed his hands through his hair. "Okay, fine. I'll be right there."
"Many thanks for your graciousness, young master," Morges said, and the diagram vanished with a burst of orange sparks.
Oliver threw a glance back at Zenith, his eyes filled with a naked longing that made Zenith's skin crawl. Then he scowled and turned toward the door.
"This isn't over. When I come back, I'd better see you bow your head to me."
With that, he summoned a diagram and vanished in a fount of orange light.
Leaving Zenith alone in the cell. Without Oliver's presence, his Levia no longer felt as overwhelming. But it was still there, gnawing at Zenith's core and crackling through his limbs.
Even so, he struggled to his knees. Now might be his only chance to escape. It didn't matter if his contract was broken.
The others were in greater danger than ever. A dragon. No matter his condition, he would be no kind of knight if he failed to help them.