After a few seconds, I was down to a quarter of my mana. The surge slowed to a trickle, then to nothing. I braced myself for the torrent of infernal voices, but they never came. I could feel the new souls under my command, louder than the ones I already had, yet tightly restrained.
"Is that you?" I asked.
Zephyriss rose slowly, looking unsteady on her feet. Her wings stirred, keeping her balance. After a long, tense minute, she met my gaze.
"Congratulations, Oracle, for becoming the first mortal to ever mark a demon Lord, but by the emperors, may it also be the last. How did you stand it?" she asked, looking at Fyren.
Fyren grinned. "You get used to it."
She nodded, rubbing her head. "This is my first time encountering fate, but I've never felt an attribute so overbearing before. It's like accepting the mark of an emperor."
I blinked. "First time? Like the first time you've had the mark of a fate demon?"
"Xiviyah, there are no fate demons," Fyren said.
