-The sharpest malice is kept in the dark, waiting and grinding against a stone of hatred.-

Fennel and Rahashik watched curiously. Their Devil master had sat himself by a windowsill, grinning and laughing to himself. He watched from the castle as citizens filtered in and out of the Church of Angels, as they had for several days now, as if it was some great show.

“What did you write in those contracts anyway?” Rahashik asked, tasting the air with his serpentine tongue.

Fennel bobbed her feathered head enthusiastically, eyes glittering as she waited for her master to impart his wisdom.

Astaroth glanced at his warlocks, between which the birdfolk was a very recent addition, and chuckled.

“Those contracts change the nature of the ones who sign them,” he explained, peering back down at the bustling church below. “Even if I’m not here, and even if it’s to their detriment, they’ll enforce the 666,000 laws of the Nine Hells themselves—until they’re conquered by another lawful faction and placed under their laws instead. And right now, the only lawful faction on this rock is mine.”

Astaroth chuckled despite himself, “Stupid little children who don’t even know the ‘D’ in ‘Devil’s Law’ yet… they’ll be so easy to play with that it will hardly even be fun.”

The Devil drummed the tips of his fingers against his jawline. “Those fools are signing even without being able to read what’s written—just because it’s on a pretty-looking paper being offered to them by angelic priests. Saying they didn’t know what they were agreeing to after the fact isn’t worth a thing under the Devil’s Law.”

Fennel raised a talon and exclaimed, just as Rahashik was opening his mouth, “So we don’t need to waste soldiers on guarding the humans because they will police each other!”

“Correct. It frees up our army to move around elsewhere,” Astaroth nodded.

Rahashik tried again and was finally able to get a word in. “Is a pretty appearance the only reason you wrote those contracts in the language of Angels? You really didn’t make them sell their souls to you?”

“I really didn’t,” the Devil prince smiled, resting his cheek in his pale hand and peering through the window with ominous red eyes. “I promised the priests that the people who sign those contracts wouldn’t be selling their souls by doing so, and I kept my word. The souls of their unborn children, however, are mine.”

Rahashik’s jaw unhinged, and Fennel stared with a look of incomprehension in her golden hawk eyes. She clicked her beak twice before managing to speak.

“That’s possible?”

“It’s possible indeed,” he said.

One person couldn’t trade the soul of another person under the Devil’s Law—unless they owned it—but the unborn did not technically exist yet, and so the Devil’s Law afforded them no rights of protection. They could be bought and sold no differently from stocks and bonds, though such business was always a gamble.

In fact, the trading of unborn children wasn’t a Devil-made idea: it was a trick they had adopted from the Fey long ago. And, like changeling children, if all went well, those pitiful mortals wouldn’t realize they belonged to a Prince of Hell until the day they died and found themselves at his feet.

There was no legal basis Astaroth could exploit to force those future humans to sign those same contracts, and he wanted to spare himself the burden of micromanagement that would come from forcing them all through his ownership over their souls. As long as the contracts were marketed well they should just sell themselves, so to speak.

Rahashik recovered from his shock and hissed a dark chuckle. “Evil. That’s simply too evil, my prince.”

“This is nothing.”

Frankly, if he wasn’t so weakened, Astaroth could’ve made a contract that sold off the signatory’s entire future bloodline, but that much was difficult for him even at his peak.

Only a truly deific or prolific individual merited such a contract.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

The once-great Devil examined his small and soft hands and clenched his fists tight. Soon, his farm would start producing fruit, and like a young beast eating well, the influx of souls would help him attain his old glory once again.

“You will know what evil is once I recover and we march back to Hell.”

***

“Please, we’ll try our luck out in the wilderness. Can’t you just look the other way?”

Cassius shook his head stubbornly. “I can’t. The best I can do is to keep this talk a secret.”

The boy was merely a child, around fourteen years old, but the adults in dirty clothes winced away from his every movement. They had seen him hold fire in his hands and spew clouds of poison. Despite having been a humble villager like them not too long ago, Cassius was now a Warlock who served their Devil conqueror, and these adults were mere war slaves.

Cassius had an inkling why these folk were like this. Incorporating them into the city wouldn’t have been too hard, but as slaves, they functioned as outlets for the stress of the monsters and Devil above them. Any small mistake would invite torment.

It was fun for them, and Astaroth was incredibly strict no matter how whimsical he could sometimes seem. He wouldn’t ignore any mistake if he saw one, no matter how small.

The skinny, balding man, still begging Cassius, made the boy frown. There was obviously no way he could let them go. It wasn’t like he was safe from Astaroth’s wrath either. But instead of keeping quiet, bowing down, or taking matters into his own hands, this senile old man wanted to drag Cassius into his mess. Lately, it seemed like a lot of the slaves were acting selfishly like this around him, and it made it hard to pity them.

“Don’t say things like that. You know those Imps can turn invisible? Giyeridon might be looking over here right now. I’ll keep quiet about this, but I won’t cover for you.”

The thin slave gritted his teeth and wandered off somewhere else, and Cassius sighed. Being near the slaves wasn’t fun: they gave him weird looks, and sometimes they tried to pull things like that with him. Sometimes they held small stones, as if they wanted to throw them at him.

He wasn’t even here because of them; watching the slaves and the soldiers was Giyeridon’s job. Cassius was just here because his sister was here.

Aewyn had once been offered to live in the Castle in the center of town, but she had been wise enough to refuse, saying she would rather stay near her friends. As her brother, Cassius was glad there was even a little more distance between Aewyn and his master.

Finding the sweet young girl sitting in a circle with some other young children, stacking stones to pass the time, Cassius made his way over. Except for Aewyn, all the kids scattered when they saw him coming.

“Cassius,” Aewyn stood up and reached to brush her brother’s brown hair away from his face. “You look tired.”

He gently pushed her hand away, grimacing when he noticed her fingers were covered in dirt. “I’m fine. I’ve just been having bad dreams.”

Aewyn hung her head, “Me too…”

Cassius held his sister’s hands, muttered under his breath, and a pale orange flame licked over them both, sweeping from the soles of their feet all the way up. It didn’t burn, and once it had passed, the siblings were both squeaky clean.

“Is it safe to do that?” Aewyn asked, looking worried. “Some of the aunties told me you’ll turn into a Devil if you use their magic.” Her small fingers pushed his lips back, searching for fangs and a forked tongue.

Cassius pushed her hands away and opened his mouth wide for her. “I’m fine,” he grinned. “Those old ladies are nasty. Don’t listen to them when they badmouth people. Even if I did become a Devil, I’d still never hurt you.”

“You promise?” Aewyn held her pinky finger out.

Cassius smiled softly and linked his little finger with hers. “I promise.”

They sat down together, and Cassius did his best to teach his sister all about the laws he’d been studying. He didn’t want Aewyn to get tricked into selling her soul somehow, because Astaroth hadn’t promised he wouldn’t take it from her. She was doing a good job memorizing them, even though it must’ve been really boring for her.

“Oh yeah,” Cassius suddenly remembered. “Don’t go to the church, Aewyn. Master went there and did something, I don’t know what, but they’re probably on his side now.”

“Aren’t you too, Cassius?” Aewyn tipped her head.

“Yeah, but I’m your brother,” he said, ruffling her hair. “Do you remember what I told you to do if anything bad or scary happens?”

The little girl nodded and pulled on a cord hanging around her neck. A flat, red and black talisman, covered in strange writing, was hanging from it, usually hidden under her shirt. “If that happens, I just need to pray, and this will take me to you.”

“That’s right.”

The talisman hanging around Aewyn’s neck was what Cassius had received instead of an Imp like Giyeridon or a blade like Rahashik. It was worth strengthening his pact magic just to receive that, since it gave him a way to protect Aewyn.

“Don’t ever lose that, okay? Even if you’re completely naked, you should still have that on.”

“I know,” Aewyn frowned and hid the talisman back under her shirt. “The other kids said it was ugly, but you gave it to me, and I know it’s important…”

Cassius didn’t know what to say, so he just rubbed Aewyn’s head and they went back to studying.