by Delmire Hart
“Now, if that’s settled, I believe we have other matters to attend to.”
All trace of the earlier civility was gone, and in its place, Zaxor was grinning toothily down at him. His whipcord-like tail curled around Barkley’s thigh, wrapping him in its grasp. The sudden change in his demeanour was startling, but underneath that a thrill of excitement zapped through Barkley. It had been a long time since he had the privacy to take himself in hand; even back home he had shared a room with his two siblings. With a constant fear of the next raid and a focus on surviving, pleasure had been the last thing on anyone’s mind.
Although, even before the war, Barkley hadn’t much interest in such things. Living in such a small farming community meant that everyone knew everyone, and while Barkley found himself attracted to both sexes, none of his peers had captured his interest in that way. That’s not to say he was completely inexperienced; he had been rewarded with a sneaky hand job or blow job in return for a favour more than once. But the demon above him was a dangerous unknown.
“Do you have a problem with me?”
Zaxor leaned further down into Barkley’s space, and for a second he thought the demon might kiss him. Instead, he stopped bare inches away to stare into his eyes. They stayed locked like that for a long moment, and Barkley took a second to marvel at the beautiful intensity of Zaxor’s grey eyes.
“Is it because I’m a demon?” Zaxor asked as he sat back to stare down at Barkley with his usual taunting grin. The demon pulled Barkley’s hand off his own, pressing it back into the bed above his head as he moved to hover above him again. “We have none of those so-called human ‘sensibilities’ or prejudices against pleasure. I can teach you so many things.”
It wasn’t phrased as a question, but he sensed it in the air of waiting that surrounded Zaxor. The demon was waiting for Barkley to say yes, to give in before he made his move.
“I’m surprised you aren’t playing the ‘I own you, I’ll do what I want’ card,” Barkley said finally, earning himself a frown. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he might have offended Zaxor. The small frown was the only expression he showed, but his body had tensed and his tail had jerked against his held leg.
“Your soul will be mine soon enough, but I will not force an unwilling partner, ownership or not. There is far more pleasure to be had when both parties agree. Do you think so little of me?”
“I don’t know you,” Barkley replied bluntly. “All I know is that you are so powerful and knowledgeable that you act like an arrogant jerk to antagonise the mages here. You even seem to find it fun. Is this just a game to you? An entertaining way to pass your centuries?”
Bitterness filled Barkley as he voiced his fears. He had been stupid to wander so unknowingly into the demon realm, to accept the contract with this demon without thought. But he was desperate. His family didn’t have thousands of years of time to while away. They had brief decades at best, and even that short span of time was being threatened. It wasn’t only them either; all his old friends and neighbours held the same uncertain fate. Barkley would do anything and everything he could to stop this stupid war and bring peace back to Rilia. It didn’t matter the cost to him, but that didn’t stop him from feeling bitter about the way Zaxor was treating their contract.
“Is that what you think?” Zaxor said quietly, his face serious as he studied Barkley’s face. “No, it’s not a game. However, that doesn’t stop me from enjoying my time. Perhaps my perspective is different after many thousands of years, but yours is not the first contract I have forged to end a war. Human lives are fleeting, a bright flame that quickly burns itself out. Humans have one thing that demons do not, however. A soul. Unlike us, your death is not the end. Destiny, the great goddess of the human realm, takes your souls when they are returned to her and weaves them back into the tapestry of time. It is she that chooses when you shall be born again and to whom. She gives humans life again and again, sets them on a new path each time and leaves them free to weave their own fate. Until, once again, they return to her.”
“I didn’t know,” Barkley whispered, overwhelmed by the new knowledge.
He didn’t remember having another life, all he knew was his time as Barkley. It didn’t change his feelings either; not his desperation to save his family nor his willingness to give anything to save them from pain. Knowing their souls were reborn didn’t change the pain and suffering that could be felt in this life. Nothing changed for him, but from the outside looking in? It was a small glimmer into understanding Zaxor.
“There is a lot that humans seem to have forgotten,” Zaxor sighed as he sat back, the mood too sombre for him to revert to his earlier playfulness.
“So teach me,” Barkley suggested. Zaxor’s scowl in return surprised him.
“I don’t know what you don’t know or what you want to know. Ask, if you want, and I’ll answer, but I can’t just teach you everything. Especially if you want to learn before your contract is complete. It would take centuries to learn everything I know.”
While Zaxor didn’t say it, Barkley could hear the ‘stupid human’ comment in his tone. He got the distinct impression that the demon had been asked that before. Possibly more than once, given the reaction.
“You could stop interfering with my studies then and let me learn. Or help me with what I need to know to become a mage.”
“Have you not been listening to what I’ve been saying to these supposed ‘mages’?” Zaxor snapped irritably. “Their theories are incorrect. I will not sit there and not say something, nor am I going to encourage you to learn something that’s wrong.”
“Then at least teach me when I ask!” Barkley huffed out exasperatedly. “You just said ask and you’ll answer, but you spent the entirety of yesterday afternoon laughing at me while I failed over and over again to use your magic.”
“Life for demons is long, I will enjoy every moment I can,” Zaxor replied, amusement sneaking into his voice as he remembered the day prior. “But I was teaching you. Doing and failing is the best way to learn. I gave you what you needed, all that was left was practise.”
Barkley groaned and rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. He didn’t understand Zaxor, not at all, but he wasn’t wrong. That didn’t mean he couldn’t explain himself though.
“Tell me then, I can’t read your mind.”
“Ask me then, I can’t read your mind,” Zaxor sassed back, arching an eyebrow at him.
“Ask you…” Barkley trailed off as he thought back through all their conversations so far. “Then what do you really think of my plan to complete our contract? You were vague when I told you.”
“I think you should stop accepting what people tell you to do and forge your own path. You want that mage title to give you greater leverage in the army? Fine. Find out what tasks you need to do and do them. Don’t faff about with mage classes and making friends. You say you are desperate to save your family, but you sit back and accept how things are done here. You contracted me when rules would say otherwise. What happened to that stubbornness, that determination? Think farm boy! You aren’t beholden to these so-called mages.”
It echoed the thoughts he had that morning and renewed his wavering determination.
“I was going to ask Max about the exam after class, see if I can take the test early and just learn what I need to know for that.”
“Why go to class?” Zaxor countered. “Why follow their arbitrary rules? You are not beholden to them.”
“Because I need their stupid mage licence.”
Barkley understood what the demon was pushing for and truthfully, he wanted nothing more than to leave and run to protect his family. But he knew that wasn’t how things worked.
“Those who sit and follow the rules do not change the world.” With that, Zaxor blinked out of existence, and the weight across Barkley's hips vanished.
Chapter Ten
After telling Maria that he wouldn’t be attending class, Barkley set off in the rough direction of the
library. Zaxor’s words had spurred him back into action. Just because the war hadn’t touched the academy yet didn’t mean the situation was not dire. In all his dreams on the way to Loria, forging a contract with a demon had been the hardest part. He had been so fixated on overcoming that hurdle that he had put little thought into what happened beyond ‘end the war’.
So when he had been offered a solution to his dilemma, he had taken it. Even though he had no interest in becoming a mage, it was a means to an end. He had been in Loria for two weeks and already he had floundered, unsure of how to proceed. How many weeks had it been since he left his home? Enough that another raid must have occurred by now. Time was ticking and he needed to act.
Getting into the army was his top priority, and after that it was proving himself so he could take a more active role in the war. He wanted to end the war, not be a pawn for the military, and that would be a difficult hurdle to overcome. Dealing with a few stubborn mages should be a walk in the park in comparison, and hopefully easier than dealing with Zaxor.
Barkley felt like he understood Zaxor more after their talk earlier, but he was still mostly a mystery. He couldn’t comprehend what it was like to live so long and see so much, but he could understand how that would change your outlook on things. If he kept that in mind when dealing with the demon in the future, perhaps he would begin to make sense of him.
After a few wrong turns and having to double back, Barkley found Max at his desk in the library. The friendly mage had his nose buried in a book and didn’t look up as Barkley approached. His robes were rumpled, and large bags under his eyes suggested he had been up through the night.
“Morning Max,” Barkley called quietly, hoping to not startle the older mage too much.
His efforts were in vain though as Max yelped and physically jumped in his chair. He stared up at Barkley with wide, uncomprehending eyes for a long moment before he seemed to realise who it was. The mage looked like the small owl Barkley had rescued as a child. Its feathers were half baby bird down and half flight feathers, and it stared up at Barkley with large unblinking eyes, its feathers in complete disarray. The mental comparison was endearing, and he fought down a smile as Max took a moment to regain his composure.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Max replied. He placed a marker in the small leather bound notebook he had been reading. “I completely lost track of time, I didn’t realise it was morning already! This journal is a marvel! It was found in one of the old storage rooms by the staff. There are chests full of old treasures that sit there forgotten until someone goes through them. The headmaster ordered all the storage rooms to be sorted and catalogued, and all books are to come to me for processing. But this! This is marvellous!”
Max’s voice was that of an excited child and he reached out to pet the pages lovingly. It was easy to see why he had chosen to spend his days surrounded by books.
“I believe it must be hundreds of years old, as it refers to mage scholars that have since been denounced, but the pages are in perfect condition. I wonder if they have some kind of magic imbued in them.”
Looking over the pages of the journal, it looked much like the one Barkley had been given yesterday. The pages were a little more worn as though it had been handled regularly, but otherwise it showed no other signs of aging. The spider-like handwriting that scrawled across the pages was small and hard to read, but the amount of words per page was remarkable. Even though it was a small journal, it must hold massive amounts of information.
“It seems to be written in shorthand,” Max continued as he spun the journal around to show Barkley properly. “I’ve deciphered most of it, but not all, and there’s no key in any of the pages I could find. But it tells of research that was being conducted at the time and has notes on ideas that were obviously written down to be remembered for later. It suggests the research being conducted at the time was on a completely different scale to what is undertaken now. There is even some commentary on the politics of the Circle, but I haven’t yet looked up the names mentioned to place the time period. It’s just so fascinating! I can’t put it down! I can’t believe such a wealth of information was sitting under our noses all this time!”
“Zaxor?” Barkley called, looking around uncertainly. He still wasn’t entirely sure that the demon would come each time he called, but he said to ask if he had any questions.
“Hmm?”
And there he was, his tall figure towering over the desk, looking bored. It was one of the few times he had appeared next to Barkley standing instead of lounging around like he owned the place. Zaxor looked over the desk with an air of disinterest, but he came when called so that was a good start.
“Is it possible to use magic to preserve books?”
“Through alchemy, it is,” Zaxor replied as he turned to look at him. “It’s a long, arduous process, and the decoction can only be applied after the ink so there is a possibility of smudging. Because of the time and risks involved, few bother with it.”
Max looked as though he had just been given a second present. Barkley could see the list of possibilities running through the mage's head at the thought of perfectly preserved books. Perhaps in the past there had been enough people looking after and producing books that preservation didn’t matter, but now was very different.
“Is there a recipe we could have?” he asked cautiously. Zaxor had said to ask if he had questions, but this was more for Max than himself, and he wasn’t sure if the demon would still accept that.
Perhaps not, because Zaxor vanished without a word. Barkley sighed. Why did he end up with such a confusing demon?
“I see your demon is just as easy to deal with as mine,” Max said ruefully. “Although, shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Ah, I wanted to find out what I had to do to become a mage. I don’t want to spend years here taking classes, I contracted a demon to have the power to help end this war. Just because it hasn’t touched the mages yet doesn’t mean it’s not causing people to suffer. What’s the point of spending precious time learning theories that aren’t even correct and won’t help me in any way?”
Sadness passed across Max’s features and he nodded. “I see the effects in people every day when I take the petitions, but few others step outside the academy’s walls. I don’t know if you will be allowed to take the tests without taking all the classes, but I can tell you exactly what’s in the exam.”
The mage stood and Barkley followed him as he strode towards a bookshelf on the opposite wall.
“There are four tests,” Max explained as he handed over a large book. The author was one Hubert Ward and Barkley frowned, recognising the name from yesterday. “Two written tests on the two biggest aspects of magical theory, one practical alchemy test, and one practical magic test.”
“The practical magic test, what does that involve?” Barkley asked, a sinking feeling starting in the pit of his stomach.
“Well, seeing as you have no magic yourself, you would need to get your demon to complete the tasks set by the examiner. Usually things like creating magical flame and burning the target piece of paper only, keeping those around it undamaged. Moving objects, changing the properties of objects, creating light. Sometimes they even include a puzzle that must be solved using a certain sequence of magic.”
All hope of easily completing that test went out the window. Zaxor had explicitly stated on many occasions that he would not perform party tricks. To such a powerful demon, those would certainly sound like party tricks. Max placed a second and third book in his arms before seeming to notice his downcast expression.
“It sounds rather daunting, I know,” the old mage hurriedly added, trying to reassure him. “But if you only study these, then you should be able to complete it within a few weeks. I’m happy to answer any questions you have if you get stuck.”
“It’s not that, but thank you.” Barkley sighed as they returned to the desk and he could dump the heavy books
down. “Zaxor already said he wasn’t going to ‘perform petty party tricks’. I’m not sure he’ll agree to help me with my practical exam.”
“Perhaps you could make a deal with him?” Max suggested thoughtfully. “Almost like a second contract?”
Barkley didn’t get the chance to reply as Zaxor blinked back into existence and placed a long piece of paper down on the desk. Max snatched it up with glee and stared at it for a long moment. He reached over to the journal he had been looking at earlier and set the paper down next to it with a gasp.
“It’s the same handwriting!” Max exclaimed, and Barkley leaned forward to take a closer look. Sure enough, the same spidery letters were scrawled across both pages. “How is that possible? Is this recipe taken from a book? The page doesn’t look torn.”
Zaxor looked down at the journal for a moment before reaching out to look at the cover.
“Oh? You found Bel’s journal.”
“Bel?” Barkley echoed, confused.
“Belvadair Williams,” Zaxor elaborated, looking amused. “I’m surprised it’s still around after nearly six hundred years.”
“Belvadair?” Barkley repeated, trying to figure out why that name was so familiar. “Like Belvadair the Brave?”
“Oh! I know those stories!” Max chimed in, looking increasingly excited. “They are fanciful tales of the adventures of Belvadair the Brave and are still frequently told to children. We have multiple copies of the books stored here; they are popular amongst our younger trainees for light reading to relax. I think we may even have the original edition.”
“I have a copy in my room as well,” Barkley added. “It’s my favourite book and the reason I learnt to read.”
“Who is it written by?” Zaxor asked, showing interest for the first time. His tail whipped back and forth excitedly as Max strode over to peruse the bookshelves nearest to the exit.
“Ahah! Here we are! The Adventures of Belvadair the Brave as told by Wesley Baird.”