A Meeting of Devil and Mage – Alexander Barticel

A Meeting of Devil and Mage

Alexander Barticel

Deep within the confines of the Loralian empire sat the Ebon Spire. A twisted tower which rose from the earth—a single, carved mass of stone. None knew of its true origins except, perhaps, those that lay outside the bounds of mortal life. In a sparsely furnished room at the heart of the Ebon Spire sat the greatest mage of the time, Eisenwald. The man studied, searching for the secrets of these immortal beings. In doing so, he had drawn the attention of those who would prefer that their secrets remain as such. One being in particular had been watching and waiting for quite some time.

Balthazar lounged on a cleared mantel above a lively fireplace. The stone’s heavy warmth reminded him of the fiery depths of home. The golden rings of his eyes seemed to dance as they took in the form of his prey. The devil’s long, spade-tipped tail waved languidly at his back. His form was invisible to all, except for those that knew how to look.

Eisenwald hunched over his desk. His head shifted slightly from side to side as he read and took notes simultaneously. His round spectacles eased to the end of his nose while he studied, his left hand rising swiftly to meet them while his right continued his note-taking. There was no waste to his movements.

Balthazar’s form flowed like smoke from the mantel as he eased towards the hearth. This was the one he had been waiting for. A mortal with a gift from the gods. This man possessed a boundless luck which the devil—and his masters—yearned to make his own. But how? he wondered. This man was unwavering. Ever alert and always working.

As the devil’s foot met the wooden floor, there was the slightest hint of a creak. The devil immediately scrambled to return to his perch, but it was too late. A wave of light rushed from Eisenwald. The light spilled across the floor, covering furniture before climbing up along the walls to encircle the entire space. The light grew brighter, becoming almost blinding before it disappeared in a radiant burst. The traces of Eisenwald’s sealing spell could be seen along every sharp edge—a soft green-tinted glow.

‘Finally.’ Eisenwald’s chair grated across the floor as he moved to stand. The mage turned, looking out across the empty room.

‘Reveal yourself, whatever you are. You cannot hide or escape. I would rather not resort to violence.’

A torrent of thick, black smoke erupted from a point in the centre of the room. The smoke formed a column, rushing from the floor to the ceiling. The soft glow of Eisenwald’s barrier intensified and where it met the smoke a circular glyph formed, encasing the column. The smoke did not spread to fill the room, yet surged endlessly upwards. A single, swirling mass. The mage scrunched his nose as an acrid smell filled the space.

Laughter followed. Deep. Rumbling. Directionless. The laughter gave way to three fiery tears, which ripped through the swirling column of darkness. Two featureless eyes and a gaping maw, filled with hellfire, shifted within the smoke before the mage.

‘You have done well, mortal. Few would have been able to detect me, but if you think your paltry magic will hold me, you are mistaken.’

The multitudinous voice seemed to resound from every surface. It vibrated throughout the entirety of Eisenwald’s body. The mage pushed his glasses back into place and clicked his fingers. In response, the column of smoke exploded outwards, now filling the room. With a short gesture and a formless word, the smoke began to coalesce, collecting rapidly in the palm of Eisenwald’s free hand. 26

Balthazar fell to the wooden floor with a heavy thud. The devil coughed and spluttered, propping himself up on his elbows. Eisenwald’s eyebrow arched and his hand clamped around the orb of smoke that he now held, forcing the darkness to disperse. The soft smell of burning hickory began to ease its way back into the room from the fireplace.

‘I know not what your purpose is here, demon, but I will suffer neither your insults nor your trickery. You speak with Eisenwald: Kingsmage to the First, protector of the Loralian Empire. Tell me, who sent you to pester me? What is your purpose here?’

It took Balthazar a few moments to catch his breath. The devil could feel his bones reverberating with the aftershock of the mage’s spell. His teeth felt as if they rattled in his skull. Once he could stand again, Balthazar took his time to straighten his cloak. His hands moved to ensure that his long, white hair had not become tangled around the horns that protruded from above his brow.

Balthazar stood straight and tall, looking slightly down to meet Eisenwald’s gaze. The devil’s face was impassive as his tail waved softly back and forth behind him.

‘Well, demon, I have asked you two questions and am yet to receive any answers. I do not wish to force you to answer, but I will if needed.’

Balthazar’s tail cut through the air sharply before resuming its soft, confident movement. His words followed. ‘I am Balthazar! Watcher of the seventh gate, maligner of mages, and devil among devils. I am no mere demon.’

With his last word, he spat. The ichorous wad sizzled as it struck the edge of the barrier. Eisenwald’s eyes did not leave the devil’s own as he introduced himself.

‘My apologies. Balthazar, was it? You must forgive my ignorance but, please, humour me. By whose grace have you deemed to observe me in my own study, o’ devil among devils?’

Balthazar’s tail seemed to dance, no longer sweeping surely from side-to-side. It bobbed and coiled, straightening and relaxing before coming to rest over the devil’s shoulder. Balthazar smiled, closing his eyes and sitting in place. The devil raised his hands in a placatory gesture.

‘I’m afraid I can tell you no more until we come to an agreement.’

There was a sound like that of a sword being drawn, followed by a rush of wind. The black smoke that Balthazar had used to try and intimidate the mage now floated before him. A sharp tendril of darkness pointed directly at the devil’s throat. Balthazar opened a single eye and met the mage’s cold ones. They were still for a moment before Eisenwald spoke.

‘If you have no information then you are of no further use to me and I shall simply dispatch you, though I would prefer otherwise. You’ve given me enough either way. This piece of your essence will keep me entertained for a while, at least.’

Balthazar’s tail eased over his shoulder to push the tip of the smoke-borne spear away from his throat.

‘Now, now. Let’s not be hasty, mortal. I am a devil, which means that there is an endless array of things I can offer you. We need simply make a deal—an accord, a compact if you will. Once that is done you will have whatever it is that you wish.’

Eisenwald’s eyes narrowed. ‘What kind of an accord?’

Balthazar’s smile widened to show pointed teeth as he replied, ‘A simple one.’

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