“So,” Ori broke the heavy silence filling the room, “what exactly are we supposed to do with you?” Her words alleviated some of the unease, drawing attention away from the threats of gods. They could worry about the fate of the world later. They had to take care of themselves first. Valere posed a more immediate concern - one they could manage. 

The faint sense of distress in his eyes faded as he regarded her and seemingly turned her question over in his mind. An air of apathy returned to him, and all traces of fear dissipated from him. Strangely enough, everyone in the room seemed to release a collective breath as his demeanor returned to its familiar arrogance. 

“Naturally,” he began, “I’d be of assistance to you.”

“Don’t you mean an impediment?” Ori countered.

“My alternative is significantly less favorable.” 

“The way I see it, your greatest asset is your proficiency in magic, but you sait it yourself. You’re helpless,” she sneered.

His gaze held hers meaningfully, and Ori wondered if Apollyon sculpted him from coal, given how his irises smoldered in the light. He had once threatened to rip her heart out of her chest with that same, distasteful expression. Ori had noticed early on in their encounters that no matter who Valere spoke to or what he said, he always maintained eye contact. She hated it, and she hated how his gold flecked, dark gray eyes reminded her of the hauntingly beautiful Necrotheion.

He wove silken words into webs of deceit and savored when his enemies struggled against his traps. Tightening the threads of his web, he squeezed every vulnerability out of his victims without revealing his. The indifference on his chiseled face ignited her fury every time they met. He looked at her as if he thought she was dirt and wanted her to know it.

“I may be helpless, archer, but I’m no idiot,” he stated with all the confidence in the world. “You need me if you wish to have any hope of beating Deathbringer at his own game.”

“A game wherein you set up his board!” Her voice rose to a yell. The Valere who Ori had come to know and despise was a cruel spider who pulled strings and set elaborate traps, and the last thing she wanted to do was fall victim to another one of his manipulative schemes. 

 But that hint of his distress Ori noticed earlier, swimming just beneath the surface of his immovable visage, was enough to give her pause. Just the smallest glimpse behind his mask revealed a depth to the captive demon that she never expected or wanted to see. It was just enough to suggest a shred of humanity she never thought he could possess.

“Heeey,” Mads interrupted Ori’s thoughts with the drawn out word. The astromancer had been sleepily following along while completely curled up in the wide reading chair across the room. “Can we circle back to this other deity? What exactly is Deathbringer looking for?” 

Valere shifted his attention to the dark haired woman and pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Have you ever heard of the Telluric Deity?” He inquired with what Ori thought sounded like genuine curiosity. The question felt like one that a professor or instructor would have posed at the beginning of a lecture, and she felt a prick of embarrassment for not knowing the answer. 

Silence followed. Obviously, none of them were familiar.

“The Cosmos and Chthonous weren’t the only forces at the beginning of time,” he said, beginning an impromptu history lesson. “Apollyon is a Vessel for the root of all dark magic, and Juno is a Vessel for the root of all light magic. The two forces will always grapple for dominance over the other. Therefore, a third power must exist to maintain balance between the two and ensure that one never gains the upper hand. The Telluric Deity consumes competing Divinities and neutralizes all magic.”

“Okay, so why would Apollyon want its power if this god can wipe him out, too?” Mads pressed. 

“She has a point,” Cece agreed. “You Chthonics are all about your pride and power. I don’t really see the Deathbringer putting his on the line.” 

Something dangerous flashed in the depths of the demon’s charcoal eyes, but it passed too quickly for Ori to identify. Resentment? Loathing? She couldn’t be certain, but he answered the question with such a measured voice that she knew her inferences weren’t entirely wrong. 

“I don’t know.” He searched the room with his unearthly gaze, assessing their reluctance. “Are you really willing to take the chance that Apollyon won’t risk his own life for this kind of power against you? This is someone who risked expulsion from the heavens and surrendered his body to a god.” 

“He’s right,” Juno stated. “Apollyon’s too dangerous. We can’t let him get it first. If we beat him to it, then we might be able to use it against him.” 

Reluctantly, Ori admitted to herself that they were right. Apollyon wasn’t human. He waged war against the Heavens once before, and who were they to say that he wouldn’t do it again? They were the front line defense against imbalance, and if the mortal world were to fall, then the heavens would come crashing down after it. She knew that they couldn’t take the gamble. Still, they had another issue on their hands. 

“And what are we going to do with him?” Ori asked a second time, pointing at the demon. They kept dancing around the topic, and she couldn’t tell if he was the one guiding them away from it.  She didn’t trust him. Regardless of whether or not he told the truth, they had to deal with his presence. In the worst case scenario, he wasn’t lying. Apollyon coming to destroy the world was the absolute worst possible outcome. In the best case scenario, they brought a known criminal onto school grounds and endangered every student who trusted in their institution.

“As you can tell, I’m particularly well-versed in theories and history of the Divine.”

“You’re also well-versed in extortion and theft.”

Cecilia hummed in agreement on Ori’s left. “We can’t exactly bring him anywhere with valuable artifacts, documents, or people. He wasn’t being subtle when he set the Acropolis on fire.” 

He raised his bound hands in an exaggerated display of surrender. “I admit to having a weakness for valuable things and a flair for the dramatic, but I’m not the man I was when you last faced me. The priestess’s exorcism took its toll. I don’t have the strength I once did.” 

“It’s true,” Calpurnia affirmed. “His magic is weak, and I doubt his body would be able to keep up with conducting any amount of Divinity in this state. He’ll be a useful source of information and insight into the enemy. However, it’ll be best to secure him here on the school grounds as a precautionary measure. We can’t let him out of our sight, for our safety and his own.”

“Assuming he’s telling the truth.” Bea scowled at the demon. The modelesque woman wasn’t giving him a shred of the leniency that Juno allowed. Valere made their lives hell, and Bea wasn’t going to let any of them forget it. 

“Yes, assuming he’s telling the truth,” Calpurnia relented. “Either way, it’s better to be safe than sorry. I’ll discuss this with the other chancellors and acquire an artifact to prevent him from conducting any Divinity. He won’t be able to use magic any time soon. I think this is enough for one day. I’m sure you have plenty to discuss.” 

Calpurnia’s brow furrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Her usually radiant complexion seemed dull, and the signs of age on her face stood out more than Ori had noticed in the past. The recent years had taken their toll on the chancellor, and the exhaustion of keeping up with them seemed to have finally gotten to her. Ori knew that frustration well. She had completed six years of study at Dikai, and every year, they were constantly on their toes, waiting for the next disaster to strike. Every year, they held out hope that it’d be quiet and peaceful. Every year, they were disappointed. It was never simple or mundane, and she never graduated. 

The novice instructors filed out of the office, and Ori was the last to leave. As she closed the pearl door behind her, she heard Calpurnia’s voice, colder and harsher than frostbite. 

“This better not be one of your tricks, Valere. You won’t cheat death a third time.” 

“Do you think I don’t know that? I’m out of tricks, and I’m not foolish enough to bring up his name lightly. We both know that he’ll end this one way or another.”

 Ori heard his ominous statement just before the door clicked shut behind her. She swallowed against the agitated heartbeat caught in her throat and shakily followed her friends, wondering why she felt like they already lost a battle that hadn’t yet begun.