“You must be Jerome,” a kid with a mohawk hairstyle said.

Hedon? Jerome’s jaw dropped open. Hedon was standing a few paces away from him, younger and less restrained than he was when they met before they battled the Children of the Mother. He looked around the hall and was shocked at what he was seeing. This was their first day in Pilgrims’ Keep!

Is this The Guardian’s test? He thought to himself. He looked at his own body and noticed how small he was. Jerome couldn’t help but grumble in frustration. All this may not be real but it didn’t mean he’d want to live through it again. And it did feel very real.

“You’re famous, you know? Heard you meditated for nine days at Mhen Agrh’ur.” Hedon said.

Jerome took deep calming breaths. This might have been ages ago but it didn’t stop his anger from rising as he felt like punching the kid’s face in.

“What did you do, sleep off or something?” Hedon said with a sneer on his face.

The crowd of Blanks burst out laughing at that.

“Or something,” Jerome said when the laughter died down.

Hedon chuckled at that. He looked over his shoulder and said, “He thinks he’s funny.”

The Blanks behind him chortled again…not all of them and not the offensive laughter from before.

“Everyone knows you broke through to the Essence-Forming Realm after nine days in Mhen Agrh’ur,” Hedon said. “That being the case, your foundation must not be solid. I’m here to offer you a chance to seek protection under me during Pilgrims’ Keep,” he added, smiling.

“Oh, my foundation’s very solid. Rock solid, in fact. Thank you for the offer though,” Jerome said with a smile.

“Huh,” Hedon muttered, not expecting that. “Do you refuse my offer of protection, boy?”

Jerome sighed. In any version of the story in the entire multiverse — if that even exists — Hedon would always be a dickhead.

“No, not at all. And I appreciate the offer—”

“No one refuses an offer from Hedon Alvric, boy. That is an insult to the Alvric name. I won’t embarrass you today because of the Royal family. Hand over that spear of yours and I’ll look away just this once.” Hedon said, pointing at the butt of the contracted spear jutting out from behind Jerome’s right shoulder.

Jerome almost scoffed out loud. He looked up and around. Couldn’t you have improvised, Guardian? It seems you’re not as creative as I almost thought you were.

“This spear?” Jerome asked, focusing his gaze on Hedon and pulling the spear out of its holder. “You’d have to earn it.”

Hedon went mad. “Have you been messing with me the whole time, boy?!” There was no way Hedon wouldn’t see the mirth in Jerome’s eyes right now and it only made him angrier.

Hedon lunged forward with speed that surpassed that of a Blank and even that of a Sprout. Jerome sidestepped him and Hedon crashed into the wall behind him, destroying it completely. Jerome was shocked at that. Still wide-eyed at the Alvric’s feat, he didn’t see the blur that came rushing at him. Hedon punched him upside the jaw and Jerome shot through the roof, breaking everything in his path. He looked down and saw Hedon flying towards him with glowing red eyes and Jerome’s heart skipped a beat.

They clashed in the air, punching and kicking each other as their bodies grew to their normal size. Hedon roared a monstrous roar and tendrils of black smoke burst out of him, spreading in every direction. Jerome did his best to avoid the darkness, weaving in and out of it as he flew in the air.

“Do you see what you become, Jerome,” Hedon spoke as he walked on air towards him. His voice was now the voice of The Guardian, and his eyes were the eyes of the Dark One — blood-red and glowing.

Jerome took his time to look him up and down. Hedon had grown claws, black claws that were an inch long and dripped with blood. Dark veins were vivid under his skin and the weight of his presence had increased tenfold.

“Do you believe you’re worthy of the secrets of the fae, now?” The Guardian asked.

“No,” Jerome said, downcast. The knowledge of what he was fated to become weighing him down. He didn’t want to become a monster, but he could do nothing to change his fate. Trying to run away would not give him more time. He saw Three and the others in his dreams drawn to the mountains, which means he would be drawn there too.

“Then prepare to die!” The Guardian shot toward him, not as Hedon, but as a mirror image of himself. Except for the eyes, fangs, claws, and everything else that made him the Dark One.

Jerome covered himself with his metal armor and swung his spear. Sword force spread out toward The Guardian but with the wave of a hand, The Guardian neutralized the deadly blow. They clashed with each other in midair and fought wildly. Every blow deflected sent shockwaves to ruin the tower beneath them and its surrounding. Every blow that connected sent the one attacked careening through the air. 

Jerome battered The Guardian with his blue flames burning his skin with every chance he got. He sent out long blades made from Suzie to hinder The Guardian, all to no avail. The Guardian didn’t bother to dodge. It…he spread out the darkness like a shroud around him and consumed anything Jerome threw at him. Jerome’s blades disappeared as well as the majority of his fireballs.

The Guardian, however, was getting stronger by consuming all his techniques. He threw myriads of black fireballs at Jerome and Jerome had to dive downwards to prevent them from touching him. Just being near those fireballs gave him a sense of doom.

The Guardian was waiting for him, having predicted his move. He bludgeoned Jerome with a dark metal staff sending him crashing into the forest below. Jerome stood up on shaky legs as he felt a devouring cold on his back — the very location where the black staff had hit him. He was beginning to lose strength. Or more like the cold was siphoning his strength.

He looked up at The Guardian, at the staff in his hand. It was like Suzie — shiny with a metallic tang to it, but instead of the usual chrome-red color, it was chrome black, a corrupted Suzzie. His anger was kindled at that and he readied himself for the attack he knew was coming.

“Do you like my new staff, Jerome?” The Guardian said in a loud voice before shooting downwards toward the ground, moving faster than the freefall of gravity. He hit the ground with a boom creating a large crater as a shockwave spread out and into the surrounding trees and bushes.

Jerome flipped in the air and landed just outside the crater. He examined The Guardian and found that his whole body was covered in black tendrils of smoke. It would be hard to hit him as he was. He had used the perfect defense for the moment he hit the ground just like he did in the air. But for how long could he use the darkness like that? It must cost a lot to keep it up.

Let’s find out, then. Jerome quickly covered his whole body with earthen armor. He fused the particles of earth together tightly and added more earth essence until the armor became almost as tough as Suzie’s armor.

Shooting toward The Guardian, he formed a spear made out of rocks and did the same thing he did with his armor in a split second: he tightened the particles of earth forming the spear, making it denser and stronger.

They clashed halfway from each other and fought brutally, creating shockwaves as they exchanged blows and techniques. The Guardian quickly got the upper hand, pushing Jerome back as he spun his staff deftly, sending tendrils of darkness to assault Jerome. Jerome pushed through, moving forward one step at a time. He parried blow after blow feeling the strength leaving his limbs.

With every impact from the dark staff, he felt a portion of his strength sapped out of him. Jerome shot backward and The Guardian pursued. Earthen spikes shot out of the ground and almost impaled The Guardian as he pursued Jerome.

“Ahahahah! That’s a good one,” The Guardian laughed. He had spun out of the way, with just inches between him and the spikes before they could touch him. “My turn.”

Darkness spread out from The Guardian like a wave, covering the ground and the sky. Jerome felt his heart clench in fear at that as he knew this wasn’t something he could resist. He shot backward, flying at full speed. He pushed with everything he had but the darkness overtook him, locking him in place. Just as he thought everything had gone from bad to worse, the worst happened: dark spikes shot out of the darkness and impaled him from every angle. His left eyeball burst as a spike pierced through it and into his brain.

Jerome roared in pain.

The Guardian laughed maniacally behind him. “Death, sweet and pleasant awaits you, Jerome! I can’t wait to take your place…to become the new Jerome…the new Dark One.”

Jerome’s remaining eye widened as realization dawned on him. “This was never a test,” he said.

“No, Jerome,” The Guardian said. “And you were gullible enough to think it was. I don’t blame you. Every Sprout that comes to Terra Praeta comes seeking good fortune. Don’t beat yourself up about it.” he cackled with glee.

“I won’t let you!” Jerome screamed, his anger rising. He had to somehow find the strength to free himself. Yet he was losing strength even faster now.

Jerome roared in anger, bunching his muscles to try and break free of the dark spikes. He pushed his perception to reach out to the earth but a deep dark hole in the world was what he found. Before he could pull back his perception, a portion of it was swallowed up by the void causing his mind to fracture, and a splitting ache assaulted his head. Jerome felt like his head was a racetrack and a thousand spot cars were racing on it. He almost blacked out, vomiting blood in the process. He was bleeding internally already, he knew.

“Ahahahah, no matter what you do, you can’t get out of this, Jerome.” His own face appeared out of the darkness, filled with dark veins and cracking skin. “Your body belongs to me…”

“I won’t let you,” Jerome said weakly. His body sagged down as strength left him. 

Time flew by. The Guardian left, perhaps to go attract another to kill. Jerome felt his end near. He didn’t want to die. He had a lot of people depending on him, a lot of people to find and save. The faces of his family fleeted by in his mind’s eye. If he stayed here…if he stayed like this…their lives would remain in the hands of another. They’d become someone else’s amusement.

Jerome grit his teeth as another kind of fear gripped him: the fear that The Guardian would destroy his world just as the Fae did theirs. He couldn’t let this guardian take his body. He wouldn’t. His body contained the seed of darkness and the beast that came with it. It was his responsibility to keep the beast in check, to keep it from repeating the calamities of the past. With such power, The Guardian would do worse than Noir did in his time.

Jerome mustered up every ounce of strength he could. He spun his core with all his might but it moved at a snail’s pace, the darkness having suppressed him. He began to mutter his mantra willing his intent into every word. The darkness seemed to sense what he was doing and condensed around him becoming more substantial.

Jerome kept muttering and spinning his core as best as he could. Green and gold motes of light passed through the darkness from beneath him, floating upwards. Jerome was elated. Before he could rejoice though, the darkness consumed them.

The Guardian’s mocking laughter echoed all around him at that but Jerome was undeterred, he kept at it. He concentrated not only on what the words said but the pledge they promised.

Mother Nature provides life…

She provides vitality and protection…

To wield the power of the earth is to be a protector…

To become a shield…

To stand in the way of the oppressor and shield the weak…

Jerome’s mind became saturated with the mantra. He pledged himself wordlessly to the earth, invoking into being a life oath to shield the world from the monstrosity that is The Guardian. Something responded to his pledge at that moment. Something deep down inside him.

Jerome’s core picked up speed and he could hear The Guardian's laughter die down. His core accelerated and before long it was spinning at great speeds. He transmitted large amounts of essence to his body, filling his tired limbs with strength. The comfort that came with wielding his own essence was very satisfying. He clenched his fist and broke the spikes impaling his arms like they were rocks. 

With the strength that came from wielding his essence, something else began happening: the darkness in the air began forcing its way into Jerome. His core devoured the darkness with great speed that he could feel the movement of the darkness as it traveled through the air toward him.

Jerome spun around and broke off the rest of the spikes. He reached up and grabbed hold of the spike still inside his eye. Blood and brain fluid coated his palms as he gripped the spike and blinding pain shot up his head, nearly crippling him.

With a loud roar, he pulled out the spike and shot toward The Guardian. He could sense him through the blanket of darkness that covered the world. The Guardian had been watching silently from a distance, and when Jerome was but five feet away from him, he transformed into black smoke and was absorbed into Jerome.

Jerome passed out.