Cedric sat on the bench, his breath blooming into the winter air like pale ghosts. He shivered, and though his body was used to the Midwestern chill, he still hated it with a passion.

  “Fucking weather,” he growled, his voice low and raspy from the cold.

  It was nearly seven in the morning. The bus should have arrived by now. The December air clung to his bones as if he were wearing nothing at all, despite the heavy jacket, jeans, and long johns he’d layered on.

  His dark brown eyes scanned the road for any sign of yellow, but there was nothing. He sighed heavily, the thought of just heading back home flashing through his mind. What’s the point? he wondered. At eighteen, he’d spent the entire month busting his ass on exams. Winter break started tomorrow; he just had to survive this one last test.

  “If only my grade wasn’t so dependent on this,” he scoffed, standing up to pace. He needed to keep his blood moving.

  Ten minutes later, the bus finally groaned to a halt in front of him. He climbed the stairs and gave a curt nod of thanks to the driver. The delay made sense once he saw the interior; kids who normally didn’t ride were packed in, likely seeking refuge from the cold. Cedric shook his head and retreated to the farthest back seat he could find. The day already felt like a slow-motion car wreck.

  Slumping into the seat, he kicked his black backpack underneath and tried to relax. Exhaustion hit him hard. Normally, he could fall asleep on a bus and wake up exactly when he needed to, but the late-night study sessions were finally catching up to him.

  He began to nod off, his head resting against the vibrating window. He curled his 6'4" frame into the cramped seat as best he could, seeking any shred of comfort. Some errant thoughts drifted through his mind—plans for winter break, the trade school he might attend after graduation, the driver's license he still needed to get. He just wanted to be happy. He wanted to forget the past.

  With those thoughts, he finally drifted away. His long blonde hair veiled his face, catching the morning sunlight as the bus's engine roared and the wheels hummed against the tarred road.

  “Huh. I wasn’t expecting a boy. No, you’re older than that... just not much stubble.”

  A raspy, quizzical voice broke through the fog of sleep. Cedric’s face scowled, his dreams fracturing.

  “Oi, boy. Wake up!” The voice was louder now, edged with annoyance.

  Cedric’s eyes fluttered open. He didn't hear the bus engine anymore. He assumed he’d reached the school, but the voice wasn’t the deep, gravelly tone of the usual driver.

  When his vision cleared, he found himself looking at a man in his late forties or fifties with surprisingly green-tinted hair. Cedric bolted upright, adrenaline surging as he reached for the hidden weapon he always carried—a habit born from an "incident" at his last school.

  His hand hit empty air. He looked up and saw his own flip knife held casually in the stranger's calloused hand.

  Cedric growled, dropping into a fighting stance. Despite his height, he kept his center of gravity low, feet light and ready to spring. The man didn't attack; he simply closed the knife and tossed it back at Cedric’s feet.

  That was when Cedric finally looked at his surroundings.

  The bus was gone. He was standing on a floor of jagged, charcoal-gray stone. Everywhere he looked, the rocky ground stretched out into an infinite, suffocating void of blackness. The only light came from an artificial glow directly above them, casting long, harsh shadows.

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  Cedric squinted, looking for a sun or a ceiling, but found neither. He looked back at the man, his voice steady despite the internal panic. “Where am I?”

  “You are in my prison,” the man said, gesturing to the endless dark. “A place I have been locked within for the last century.” He straightened his back, a flicker of pride returning to his tired eyes. “I am Archibald the Black. A mage.”

  He stepped closer, his urgency burning through the rasp in his voice. "I name you my Champion, though 'Guardian' is the truer title. You are to be the leash-holder for my legacy, the sentry for my life’s work. Take the Grimoire and unleash its hunger upon those who betrayed me. If death has already claimed them, then the powers within are yours to command as you see fit—provided you never let another soul lay a finger on it."

  As he spoke, the air in the void began to swirl, a sudden chill making Cedric shiver.

  “I don’t know what you mean by ‘champion’ or ‘grimoire,’” Cedric replied, his voice rising in frustration. “And you’re a mage? This is a dream. A stupid, vivid dream.”

  “And yet, here you are, breathing this air and feeling this cold,” Archibald smirked, though a shadow of sympathy flickered in his steely gaze. “This is no dream, boy. I have named you my Champion—the new Herald tethered to the Grimoire of Monsters and Beasts. You are its guardian and its leash-holder now, and unfortunately for you, there is no walking away from a bond forged in blood and magic.”

  “You bastard...” Cedric choked out. If this was real, he was being kidnapped across dimensions. “Send me back! Now!”

  He lunged forward, closing the distance with a speed that usually caught people off guard. He threw a heavy right hook, but his fist met only empty air.

  “Tsk, tsk. How foolish.” Archibald didn’t move, yet Cedric felt a sudden compression in the air. A force like a physical wall slammed into his chest, throwing him back several steps. “I’ve checked. You have no magical power, but you have a perfect affinity for another path.”

  “Fucker!” Cedric spat, regaining his balance. He charged again, unleashing a flurry of blows—punches, kicks, a spinning back-fist—but every strike was blocked by an invisible, immovable force.

  “Boy, you really are something,” Archibald sighed.

  Before Cedric could launch his next attack, the wind was knocked clean out of his lungs. He collapsed to the stone floor, retching as he clutched his chest. He could have sworn he heard his ribs crack, yet when he spat on the ground, there was no blood.

  I didn’t even see him move, Cedric thought, his mind racing. What the hell is going on?

  “ENOUGH!” Archibald’s voice was like a thunderclap, heavy and oppressive. He looked down at Cedric with unforgiving, steely eyes. “I am sorry that you must be trapped here, but I have little time. The spell to summon you consumed most of my remaining life force. I am passing my legacy to you so no one can steal it. Only one who is worthy can wield my grimoire... even if you are a fool.”

  Cedric looked up, trying to find his breath. He’d read enough books to know the trope. He was the "Chosen One," whether he liked it or not. “Fine. What’s my purpose?”

  “To keep my legacy alive. To destroy those who wronged me. And above all, to keep this book out of their hands.” Archibald reached into his black-and-red robes and pulled out a volume the size of a heavy dictionary.

  The cover was made of iridescent black and red scales, set with a large, faceted topaz on both the front and back. The spine was reinforced with woven gold and silver.

  “This is your burden,” Archibald wheezed, coughing up a spray of dark blood. “Ah, damn... get ready for a fall. As soon as I die, this prison disappears. Good luck.”

  Cedric scrambled forward, snatching the heavy book from the man's trembling hands. He clutched it to his chest, a string of curses falling from his lips as he looked around the crumbling void.

  Archibald took one last, rattling breath. Suddenly, tendrils of black magic erupted from the stone, wrapping around the mage’s body. Cedric watched in horror as the magic didn't just kill him—it devoured him, pulling his physical form apart into nothingness. There was no blood, only a terrifying, silent erasure.

  Cedric fell back onto his rear, clutching the scaly book as the ground beneath him began to dissolve. He prayed to a God he wasn't sure could hear him in this dark place.

  He was royally fucked.

  In Cedric's panic, he didn't see it, or even feel it, but the Grimoire pulsed with a silent resonance the magic swirling inside of it as Cedric unknowingly linked his very soul to the object.

  System Initializing...

  Cedric Ulvard Anderson...

  Affinity 100%...

  Soul Bond Imminent...

  Soul Bond Complete...

  Sending Out Grimoire Advisor...