A Demon's Contract

by Delmire Hart

  Max had offered to send a letter to the captain of the city guard for advice. The mage had dealt with the man a few times as part of his job taking the city’s petitions, but they hadn’t heard back as yet.

  Barkley was on his solitary way to the library when Zaxor appeared beside him. He hadn’t seen the demon since that morning, and before he could even greet him, they suddenly changed locations.

  Like the first time he had been transported via magic, there was no sensation of movement. One moment they were standing in the academy, the next they were in a dimly lit room. Looking around, all Barkley could see were books. Piles upon piles of books filled every surface. Huge floor to ceiling bookcases lined the walls leaving only enough space for two doors. From where he stood, Barkley could see that even the two puffy armchairs sitting in the corner were covered. In the middle of it all sat a large desk strewn with equal amounts of books and loose paper, softly glowing magelights hanging overhead.

  Sitting at the desk, head down and pouring over a book, was none other than Bel. He looked rumpled as though he had not changed out of his current attire for some time, his hair standing in odd directions like he had been running his hand through it. It didn’t seem like he had noticed their presence as he didn’t move from his intense study, only continuing to flick through the pages.

  “Are we…?” Barkley started to ask, turning to Zaxor in question but trailing off as Bel visibly jumped in his seat.

  “We are in my fortress,” Zaxor confirmed as he cast an amused glance over at the wide eyed scholar peering at them in surprise. “But now I have other things to do.”

  With that, he was gone. Honestly, Barkley expected it to be more obvious when he travelled to a completely different dimension, but it seemed that was not how magic worked. To be fair, even when he travelled through the stabilised rift between the two worlds, he had felt nothing. Perhaps it was all due to his inherent lack of magic, but it didn’t matter.

  Instead of dwelling on it further, he turned to smile awkwardly at Bel. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “No, it’s fine,” came the bewildered response. They stared at each other for a long, drawn out moment.

  “Um, Zaxor didn’t say anything. He just kinda appeared next to me while I was on my way to the library and brought me here.”

  “Oh!” Bel exclaimed after a few more seconds had ticked by. He cast about his desk before picking up a familiar worn leather book. “Your book. It’s very well loved.”

  “It was the first book I ever brought,” Barkley explained as he watched Bel gently run his fingers over the writing embossed the front. There was a soft, almost wistful look on his face. “It’s how I taught myself to read.”

  “It must be disappointing to find out the stories are based on me.” Bel looked up, his lips twisted into a self-depreciating half smile. “The great self-sacrificing hero is nothing but a disgruntled scholar who would happily spend all his time with his books.”

  Barkley could think of nothing to say in response. Bel was right, he had been disappointed. Bel was not Belvadair the Brave of his childhood fantasies. He was all too human. Carefully Barkley accepted the book back and desperately searched for something to say to lift the awkward atmosphere.

  “I know what Zaxor asks in return for his contracts,” Bel said, his gaze turning sorrowful as he looked at his cluttered desk. “Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I didn’t say goodbye.” Bel’s expression seemed to turn inward as he spoke, almost as though his words were to himself. “For over six hundred years I have drowned myself in more books than I ever imagined existed. Some are in languages I didn’t know on topics I could never even dream of. I was so wrapped up in my books, my studies, that not once did I think of him, the selfish person I am. Yet the question ‘Did he think of me after I left?’ was answered before I even asked it. He did. That stupid fool lovingly wrote out our adventures with me as the hero. He always joked that he would write them one day. Wes was the youngest son of a noble and he always dragged me into trouble with him. Half written stories littered his room but he never finished any of them; he could never focus long enough. But here is a book, a finished book, lovingly crafted from start to finish. The Belvadair in this book is how he saw me, the person he thought I could be. I don’t know if I loved him, but I owed him a proper goodbye, at least. Yet the coward that I am, I didn’t.”

  Bel choked on a sob before angrily dashing away the tears forming in his eyes. Barkley watched helplessly, unsure what to do in the face of the other’s pain.

  “I wonder if he settled down and got married like his father always wanted. Wes always blew off the idea, but perhaps that was just because I was there. Did he have a good life? Did he have children? I always thought Wes would make a good father. We were only in our mid-twenties when the war hit, he had his entire life ahead of him. Fuck,” Bel swore as he seemed to lose what tenuous thread of control he had on his emotions. He took a deep shuddering breath before letting it out slowly.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up so much pain,” Barkley whispered as he clutched the worn book to his chest.

  Bel barked out a bitter laugh before giving him a watery smile, his face blotchy with his tears.

  “Why are you apologising? You’re not the coward who brought this on himself. When the battle was won and we were the last ones standing, the two of us alone in the middle of the battlefield surrounded by the dead and dying, I asked to leave. I said that the contract was complete and that we should just go back to the demon plane straight away. I could have asked to say goodbye, Zaxor would have allowed me that much.” Bel rubbed his hands over his face before letting them fall into his lap with a sigh. “Forever is a very long time, so make sure you say goodbye properly.”

  “I never really thought about what my family would say about my contract,” Barkley confessed.

  His mother would probably say it wasn’t worth it and beg him to stay with tears streaming down her face. The idea of causing her so much pain stabbed at him but he couldn’t regret his choice. Not when he would save her so much suffering. His sister would understand though, she had been the only person who truly believed he could help, but he thought his grandparents and aunt would too.

  “But even if they don’t agree with the terms, I don’t regret my choice. I’ll make sure to say goodbye properly when the time comes though.”

  “Maybe with that kind of attitude you won’t have as many regrets as I do.” Bel stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before sighing again. “I never wanted my contract though, so that probably has more to do with it.”

  “You didn’t want it?” Barkley repeated, confused. “But—?”

  “Six hundred years ago war came to Rilia. In fact, it came all the way up to Loria. Back then, Loria was a grand city with the prestigious mage academy right in the heart of it all. The shining white castle sat in the middle of huge luscious gardens filled with exotic and magical plants. Flanking the gardens on three sides were sprawling buildings, compounds used for magical research and housing. When I asked Zaxor about the state of the Loria academy now, he said the grounds were less than half the size and only the castle remained. It looked as though the rest had been sold off piece by piece over the years. Even the city itself is smaller, with many ruins still visible in some places outside the walls. It used to rival the capital in size and power, but now it’s nothing more than a shell of its former glory.”

  Barkley thought back on what he had seen of the city when he first arrived. To him, it had seemed so big compared to what he had known. The only reason he hadn’t been more impressed was because of how little the war seemed to have changed Loria. It had felt unfair that his family had suffered so much yet the people carried on as though nothing was wrong. Except, once you looked under the surface it became clear it was only a façade.

  “Tucked up safely behind the academy’s gates, most of the scholar’s ignored the ne
ws about the war. Even as it came closer and closer, all we wanted to do was work on our research. It wasn’t until it was nearly too late that I sought out Zaxor. The war was at the academy’s doorstep; Loria was under siege and without access to trade, food was quickly running out. Yet, even though we were surrounded by an invading army, all that the mages who were left did was attempt to flee or sit waiting to die. I had contracts with two demons at the time; a forestkin and a lesser wind sprite. I sent them into the demon plane ahead of me to find the most powerful demon they could. That’s how I met Zaxor. But I didn’t agree to Zaxor’s contract because I wanted to save people, I just wanted the war to be over so I could continue my research in peace.”

  “We only held a contract for a few weeks, yet Wesley still pulled you into mischief in that time,” Zaxor drawled, suddenly appearing next to Barkley.

  “I never told him what the terms of our contract were,” Bel replied with a fond smile. “But I think he suspected and wanted a few last adventures. One last hurrah, that type of thing.”

  “This may not be my place to say,” Barkley started, drawing the other’s attention. “But I don’t think he blamed you for leaving without a goodbye. I mean, if you were hurt over something like that, would you be able to write a book about that person? Especially one that’s so happy and fun? It feels like the words of an elder fondly telling exaggerated tales of their past to their grandchildren by the fireside, not someone lingering over regret.”

  Silence greeted his words, and Bel seemed to draw inwards for a moment before turning a soft smile on him.

  “Thank you,” he replied softly. The pain that had lined his face just moments before had lessened and Bel appeared more at ease. “He never was someone to linger over things or regret anything. I always did it enough for both of us.”

  “Well look at that,” Zaxor drawled, his smirk saying he was about to interrupt their nice moment. “It only took you six hundred years to make a friend.”

  Bel’s face dropped into a scowl and the demon’s tail waved back and forth in obvious amusement. Seeing them interact so casually didn’t give Barkley the same feeling of exclusion it had previously, although it still made him aware of how little he knew about the demon. He was a long way from understanding Zaxor, but maybe that wasn’t necessary for being able to get along with him. Not that their contract needed them to be friends, but the thought of remaining strangers sat oddly with Barkley. If he was going to be spending an incomprehensible amount of time here, he should at least be familiar with Zaxor.

  “Oh! While we are here, can you show me around?” Barkley asked. It would be nice to put his mind more at ease about what would happen after his contract was completed.

  “Another time,” came the response. “Time moves differently here and it’s currently much slower than in the human plane. You should get back.”

  Barkley nodded before turning to Bel, suddenly unsure of what to say.

  “Thank you for the loan of your book,” Bel said, and then they were standing in his small room in Loria.

  Well, that saved him any awkward goodbyes. Leaving without a farewell was one of Zaxor’s specialties though, so maybe he should have expected as much.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rain thundered down outside his window, the wooden shutters struggling to keep the weather at bay. The light curtains fluttered occasionally as the wind seeped through the cracks in the wood. Magelights bobbled overhead, slowly swaying around the room as though dancing. Barkley wasn’t entirely sure why, the ones Zaxor had created were stationary, but the shifting shadows were almost reminiscent of being by the fire. The demon had only shrugged when Barkley had asked why his spheres of light moved, once again illustrating Zaxor’s less than ideal teaching style.

  The demon in question was sitting crossed legged on his bedroom floor, Barkley’s stolen practise alchemy set spread out in front of him. He had taken it last night after being kicked out of the alchemy lesson by a livid Lucille before it had even begun. Barkley hadn’t heard what Zaxor had said to her, but his cackle of laughter as she booted him from the room suggested it wasn’t something good. Of all the things he needed to practise, alchemy was the one he struggled with the most.

  Yet Zaxor made the process look almost like an art form. He had popped into his room some time ago with an armful of ingredients and wordlessly began to make…something. For all the demon’s usual willingness to talk, he had been oddly quiet so far. Barkley assumed it was because he was concentrating; Zaxor had to grind various strange looking plants, add jars of unlabelled liquids, and now he sat staring intently at a large glass jar. It had a bulbous bottom full of murky, swirling liquid before tapering to a small opening that was pinched carefully between two long, slender fingers. The demon was rotating the glass so that the liquid inside was always moving, but gently, while his other hand sat underneath with small flames of magefire reaching up to heat the mixture.

  Barkley was curious about what Zaxor was making; it looked incredibly complex, but he had only received a toothy grin when he’d asked. The demon’s tail twitched, cat like, behind him and he seemed pleased. Perhaps even excited, it was hard to say.

  With a small sigh, Barkley dropped all pretence of reading and flopped back on his bed to watch Zaxor. The liquid in the glass seemed to lighten in colour, the murky appearance fading. Max had told him that morning about the complaints the teachers were barraging the headmaster with and how he seemed to be leaning towards letting Barkley taking the test early just so he would be out of their hair. The gentle mage had also heard back from the captain of Loria’s guard about getting a recommendation into the army.

  The war had reached something of a standstill for now. While it was only early autumn in Rilia, winter came early in the central parts of the Quathian Empire and it hit hard. So instead of advancing forward, the troops of Quathia were digging in for the winter; reinforcing the front lines and securing what territories they had claimed. The captain suggested that Barkley use the time to get his mage licence as it would be a solid base to enter the army on. However, he did say he had contacts in the army so he could write a recommendation if needed and would do so if Barkley could not get his licence before the war ramped up in scale come spring.

  It was a favourable response, better than he had hoped for, but truthfully, Barkley didn’t want to spend the winter months in the academy. In the past few weeks the animosity towards him had been building, encouraged by Zaxor’s sharp tongue, and it was awkward every time he had to use communal amenities. Sitting in a dinner hall surrounded by other people shouldn’t feel as lonely as it did, but no one approached him so he was left to eat alone.

  Max was the only one in the academy on his side. The excitable scholar wanted change though, he wanted to learn, and he was one of the few with regular outside contact. It was obvious that just like what had happened in Bel’s time, the academy had closed its eyes to the outside world. They didn’t care about the pain and suffering happening outside the wrought-iron gates as long as they could continue on as they wanted.

  Barkley would normally be reading in the library with Max, but the mage had been given two more journals found during the storeroom clean out. One was by the denounced mage Wilbur Park, an old friend of Bel’s or so Zaxor said, and one that was unnamed. Of course, this meant that Max was completely absorbed in these new troves of information and Barkley may as well have not been there. Instead, Barkley thought he might sit outside in the gardens to enjoy the sunshine while he studied, only to get rained on. There had been only a scattering of clouds when he sat down under his chosen tree, but within the hour the weather had taken a turn for the worse. He could barely keep the book with him dry.

  And so, he had retreated to his room. At least the thundering storm outside suited his low mood. Barkley shouldn’t be feeling so down with everything going so well so far, but he couldn’t shake it. Worry over his family, over the mage exam, over the state of Rilia, it all ate at him, gnawing away until he coul
dn’t fight it back. His study for the exam was mostly complete, meaning he struggled to distract himself from the things he could not change. The current theories about magic were needlessly complex, as though the researcher was trying to make themselves look intelligent, but with little else to occupy his time Barkley had quickly memorized them.

  He wondered for the hundredth time what he was doing here. Logically, he knew this was the best way to get into the army with a position higher than front line fodder, but the endless waiting still itched under his skin. The idleness made him doubt his choices, and that doubt was piling higher and higher every day.

  Zaxor hummed quietly, a sound of pure satisfaction, as the liquid in his glass jar became opaque. It held the faintest tint of pink colouring and moved sluggishly when Zaxor tilted the jar, suggesting it was far thicker than something like water. The demon sat the container down before finally turning his attention to Barkley.

  “You seem rather listless. Would you like me to comfort you again?” Zaxor’s trademark taunting smirk was back in place, so it was hard to tell if he was serious or teasing.

  Barkley studied the demon, trying to discern more from his facial expression. What he was looking for, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t find whatever it was. A small sigh escaped as Barkley ran a hand over his face in frustration.

  “You say you don’t see our contract as a game, but you certainly act like it is. But with the way you see the people you’ve previously forged contracts with, I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  “Oh? What’s brought this on?” Zaxor said as he tidied up the alchemy set strewn about in front of him. “Although I didn’t lie to you. My contracts are not games, but that doesn’t stop me enjoying my time.”