Page 39 of Daemon Master

“Such as a daemon sharing its aether with its daemon master.”

“Like you and Heartrender,” Seymour said, sounding intrigued. “Crastley had figured that out?”

Adrian nodded. “He classified melds into three types—Enhancements, Surges, and Fusions.” He held up a finger for each as he ticked them off. “Enhancements mend a daemon’s wounds or bolster their physical prowess. Surges boost a daemon’s magical technique. And Fusions let us see through a daemon’s eyes or temporarily inhabit their flesh.”

“I’ve never heard it described in quite those terms,” Seymour replied slowly, “but that lines up with what we were taught: Body, Mind, and Spirit. It’s not exactly revolutionary thinking.”

“No,” Adrian agreed. “But Crastley’s next hypothesis is. He thought these melds wentbothways—that is, a daemon could use an Enhancement, Surge, or Fusion on its daemon master. He called thesereversemelds and claimed bondstones restrict access to all but one of them.”

Seymour’s expression grew distant for a moment. Then, his eyes cleared. “You’re referring to a reverse Fusion, aren’t you? Even with a bondstone, daemons can meld with our flesh.”

Adrian grinned. “Exactly! Crastley believed reverse Fusions still work since a daemon’s natural stateisaether. Enhancements and Surges, on the other hand, require conscious effort, which daemons can’t invest when bondstones strip them of their free will. What Heartrender and I did against Kali is a reverse Enhancement—a daemon bolstering its daemon master’s body.”

“And a reverse Surge?” Seymour said, frowning. “Daemon masters don’thavetechniques.”

Adrian leaned forward, unable to contain his excitement any longer. “Crastley never managed to replicate it himself—he wrote it was the most difficult of the six to pull off—but he speculated it would allow a daemon to temporarily gift its technique to its daemon master.”

Silence fell save for the crackling campfire. Sensing his nervous energy but not fully understanding the cause, Heartrender rubbed her head against his hand until he relented and stroked her smooth skin. Tremorfist grunted and rose. Apparently unimpressed with Adrian’s revelation, he trundled off in search of something more interesting to do.

“Such a thing isn’t possible,” Seymour scoffed. The denial sounded half-hearted at best.

Hewantsit to be true, Adrian realized.Even if he can’t admit it to himself.What daemon master didn’t secretly dream of wielding their daemons’ incredible powers?

“Why not? It makes about as much sense as anything else we’ve learned. Think of it—a daemon master who can control the elements with their own hands…”

“You could use a technique in unison with your daemon for double the effectiveness,” Seymour said, his green eyes alight with the possibilities. “Or take direct control in a delicate situation without the need to explain what you need.” Hisbreath caught. “You could even cast a technique without ever summoning your daemon. It…it would changeeverything.”

Adrian beamed at the watcher. “My thoughts exactly. Heartrender and I already managed a reverse Enhancement. A reverse Surge might be precisely the advantage we need to defeat Kali.”

Seymour nodded slowly, his earlier frustration forgotten. With excitement smoothing the usual harsh lines of his face, he appeared more like the friend Adrian remembered from his childhood. That seemed to be happening more and more, and each time, it left an uncertain tremor in Adrian’s gut—a whisper of possibility he’d assumed long since lost.

“I think it’s time,” Seymour declared.

Adrian blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden shift in topic. “Time for what?”

The watcher rose to stand over the fire. Its flickering light twisted his shadow across the ground and highlighted the flecks of gold buried in his irises. “Greater aetheric control is all well and good, but I promised to teach you how to defend yourself. We’ll start tomorrow with a friendly duel.”

“A duel?You’ll clobber me! No way that’ll be a fair fight.”

Seymour bared his teeth in a feral grin, erasing whatever softness Adrian had glimpsed before. “No fight ever is. You can’t always count on being stronger than your opponent. Sometimes, you have to figure out how to win anyway.”

With that inspiring thought, the watcher turned from the dancing flames and vanished into the darkness in the direction Tremorfist had gone. Not long after, the sounds of battle echoed through the trees, accompanied by the crackle of expended aether and Seymour’s occasional angry shout. It would seem Tremorfist had found his desired entertainment, even if it came at Seymour’s expense. At least, they were getting some much-needed practice with their bond. Perhaps a few nighttime bouts were precisely what they needed to reach an understanding.

Adrian remained seated by the fire, absently petting Heartrender’s dozing form until the noise faded and the distant rustle of cloth signaled Seymour settling into his shelter. The more Adrian considered Seymour’s words, the greater his determination grew. He might lack the watcher’s experience and raw power, but that didn’t mean he and Heartrender couldn’t kick Seymour’s overconfident butt. Tomorrow, they’d meet him on the field of battle…and show him just how unbeatable their bond really was.

Adrian’s heart pounded a hole in his chest as he gazed across the clearing. Beside him, Heartrender radiated soothing comfort. She chirped softly and wound between his legs, purring. He reached down to pet her, then took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

This was it. A chance to prove his hard work and training had been worth it. That he had what it took to be more than a washed-up daemon catcher.

Seymour stood a hundred paces away, watching him impassively. Even without his watcher armor, he struck an imposing figure, the poster child for everything a daemon master should be. Tremorfist rested on all fours at his side. The azure ape’s rippling muscles shimmered in the early morning light. If either the watcher or his daemon felt any nerves, they didn’t show it.

Adrian swallowed down his own pre-fight jitters. Even though he knew this fight was just a chance for Seymour to gauge his current skill, there was something symbolic about confrontinghis childhood friend-turned-bully. He’d be lying if he pretended he didn’treallywant to win.

“Ready?” Seymour called.

Adrian nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The watcher crouched into a battle stance. Adrian did his best to mimic it.

“We can do this,” he whispered to Heartrender, who trilled her agreement.