Role

Chapter 3

A fire giant, male, middle-aged, unusually dressed in robes with arcane
runes, Daran Frostspear was truly a sight to behold. A solid wall of muscle
seated behind an enormous oak desk, with scrolls, books, and writing
implements scattered about his room, the scene looked like a study in
unexpected contrasts. Viera did not know this, but Daran was so many ranks
above her family that this situation was extremely unusual and this was an
opportunity her peers would have killed for. When Viera entered, Daran
spoke without preamble.

Girl. We have interest in you. We offer you a deal. Join The School. You
know the one? Good. Every good student knows. Best school. Best future.
Expensive fees. I know your family can't afford. Your Finals were good.
The School will take you. You just need to afford. We can make you afford.
We have money. If you take our money, you join us. After finishing school.
No backing out.

What do you do? If I join you, what is my future? How does it help me?

We are the Black Sect. Empire's most powerful magicians. You know the
name. You know the fame. Black Sect are rich, powerful. If you do well in
Black Sect, your future is rich. And. Your family's future. I read the
records, I know where they work. Your father will not last long. But with
our help, everything will change. You are at a path with two roads.
Choose wisely, choose us, and your future is great.

Yes. Fine. I agree. You want me make to make oath? Tell me all terms. Show
in writing. I read. If it is like you say, I make oath.

Daran pulled out a scroll. Viera read it carefully. Then, she agreed and
swore the oath. Afterwards, she frowned.

This is not the famous Blood Oath. I know the words. But there is no magic
to make me follow.

Girl. You are still a weakling. You have promise, but you are still weak.
The Blood Oath is only when you are mature. Do not think to breath oath.
I hate oath breakers, this I swear.

Daran casually reached out an impossibly long, muscled arm, grabbed what
looked like part of the room, and uttered some odd incantation, with
weirdly precise pronunciations and tones. A brilliant burst of icy blue
light coursed through a long iron-tipped spear, and a demonic chill filled
the room.

Break oath, and no Imperial Law will save you from Frostspear.