Kylie sighed, and put a hand on Derek's shoulder. His boundless enthusiasm for knowledge was remarkable, wonderful, even, but if it wasn't contained a bit it might just get him killed. "We should listen to the devil. You realize he's also centuries old, right?"

He seemed slightly downcast... and shrugged. "Okay. So we don't go down and check out the well, or the dungeon anymore. Why don't we just follow his rules. He didn't hurt them, so if we just make wishes like normal folk, he won't hurt us, right?"

She glanced at the devil, then back at Derek. "We're outsiders. Magically capable outsiders. If we vanished, the locals wouldn't notice. Even those women are from a nearby town; we're from a whole other country. Knowing that its not some magical force, but definitely an actual person, an elf, even, with his own motives... elves used to butcher humans. Harvest us, like cattle. If it weren't for the regalia, they'd still be doing it today."

She grimaced. What if he had already been taking people, and just re-writing memories. That dungeon under the well might contain hundreds of townsfolk, for all anyone knew. "...Maybe.... we should tell people. Do something about the well?"

Praxius looked down at her. "I wouldn't go after someone like that without a good solid null-magic shield. If you get strong enough to make one in the next year, I'll help you take him down. Otherwise.... no. He'd kill me, you, the lot of us. The kind of spells someone of that level of power can cast would turn Hillsdale into a cinder in moments. If there's any more last-minute purchases you need, make them. Otherwise, lets just head on to Brendale."

Kylie nodded. "Yes, lets. We'll load everyone up, and get moving."

Derek frowned. "I was going around asking for help with the research, both about the well, and my own, yesterday. There was a message for me from one of them, that 'fabled sundries' place. Can I stop by there first, meet you at the gate?"

Praxius sighed. "How about this. I'll accompany you to this shop. Everyone else, get the ladies, the boy, make any last purchases, and head for the gate." He turned to Derek. "We are not spending hours waiting for you to discuss magical theory. We're in, we're out, and we're gone."

***

Fabled Sundries sat next to the river; an isolated shop, across the street from the last full row of houses and shops that made up Hillsdale; not a bad position; a straight shot from here to the gate. Derek gave a nod, and looked back at the irate devil following him; as he opened the door, stepping inside.

After he stepped in, the first thing he saw was an older gentleman; a quick scan showed him as level 9, and he looked to be a half-elf; so well over a century old, wearing some dusty but well-kept grey leather; and further back in the shop, a much younger one he only briefly caught a glimpse of; before the old man shut the door, and stepped up to the counter.

Derek glanced around the shop, and blinked. This... shouldn't exist here. The lamplight flickered for a moment, as Praxius stepped in, but it didn't distract Derek from the fact that virtually every item he looked at had a magical aura. None significant; these trinkets likely all did things like starting campfires or cleaning rugs. But unless you were exceptionally powerful, creating magical items was a drawn-out, challenging process; if Derek wanted to make one of these... 'Enchanted Ice Box' objects on the shelf beside him... it would take a month, meticulous casting.

He opened it for a moment; and sure enough, the inside was chilled. Perfect for preserving food on the road. He turned back to the shopkeeper... who was staring at Praxius. Level 9... it would take the shopkeeper a week to make something like this. Who were his clients? How did this place stay open?

"I... got your message. You heard about my research?"

He glanced back at Praxius. He knew the devil was at least level 10, but he couldn't pinpoint it. People of this level were rare in small towns like this. He could probably feel the devil's power... and his nature.

The half-elf glanced back at Derek. "Interesting company you keep, young scholar. That's got to be the strongest chain-devil I've ever seen... and I've seen a few. Contracted work?"

Derek shrugged. "Not my contract, but yes. He's got to keep me and my g... and the lady Eastwatch safe on our journey, if possible."

He seemed to relax a bit. "Well. Strange, but understandable. I am, of course, Fabius... and this is Fabled Sundries. I've heard from a few friends you were a magic researcher, trying to learn how to harness the powers of magical creatures... and to learn more about the well. I actually asked the well for help with that myself, long ago. Magic, that is."

Derek smiled. "Amazing! I wanted to wish for some help with my research, but my companions want to get a move on. We've got a couple of kidnap victims to return to Brendale."

Praxius coughed. "And we don't have forever here, either."

Derek rolled his eyes. "So you sent for me. Mind if I ask why? Did you have something I could buy that might help?"

"To an extent, yes. The well seems to operate on a path of least resistance sort of method. If someone wishes something, and it wants to grant it to them, it picks the easiest possible route. Which for folks wishing to live longer, a remarkably common wish, means transforming them into part elf. After studying dozens of the people its changed over the years, I've got an elixir that, I believe, combined with a bit of the other species, will help change you partway into that other race. I don't have any samples of exotic races around here; but I was able to use it on a dog with... interesting results. Its like a baby human, but with dog-ears. Cute, but disturbing."

Derek practically started drooling at the idea. This could make some of his own research trivial! "Amazing! That's... how much do you want for it?"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

He smiled. "When I heard what you wanted, I had my son start copying my notes. I'll give you the notes, and a few samples, for five hundred gold."

That.... was a more than fair amount of money. A tiny fraction of what this was worth. "Of course! I'd gladly take that! Thank you so much, for your generosity!" Derek practically ran forward to the counter, and started setting down both the more valuable, platinum coins; and when he only had 45 of them, a handful of gold to make up the difference.

The old half-elf leaned back, and shouted something at the door.. and a bundle was handed to him. A pouch, sitting on top of a book; fresh, clean, brand-new, it smelled strongly of fresh ink. Derek lifted the book, looking at it for a moment... and extended his hand. The shopkeeper studied it for a moment; and took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Always a pleasure to help a fellow researcher. I'd appreciate... and be willing to pay for... whatever you learn based on this. My own research has been a bit stunted of late, I seem to have hit a wall."

The elixirs, the book... Derek wasn't certain which was more valuable. "I'll likely be heading back to the academy, at least briefly, after this, and doing a term of service with the Imperial military. But of course. Its great to talk to someone who isn't focused on necromancy or combat magic." He looked down at the book again. If only he could spend more time here, talk to the shopkeep. Of course he wouldn't be the only one wanting to study the well; the very idea was absurd. But...

He glanced back at Praxius. "I'll see you another time, sir." He turned, heading back to the door, and slid it open, heading off for the gate, and a rendezvous with the others.

Praxius glanced back at the departing mage, then at Fabius. "Appreciated. I don't know what you're doing here, or why. But you've done nothing to interfere with my dealings, and I'll do nothing to interfere with yours. Just remember that not all creatures are affected by sleep spells, the next time you go out at night."

The shopkeeper stared into the devil's eyes for a moment. For just an instant, a flicker of the true, golden color of the elf's eyes manifested. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you. My interest in the boy's research is genuine. I would appreciate it if you ensured he survived. He has more potential than I did, at his age."

The devil held the door for a moment. "..How much would you appreciate it?" He didn't really care about the boy. The family wanted him protected, but the contract-holder was the eastwatch girl. Well. Sub-contract. Such a tangled mess, because he needed excuses to come here to protect his family. But if an archmage cared about something, the kind of help he could provide...

"Not enough to sign a contract. But.... enough to tell you that I'm not the only one experimenting around here. Someone knows the kingdom doesn't keep good track of this region, and if a town is peaceful and calm enough, its been getting involved. Adventuring parties have been going missing. I can protect Hillsdale. On the plus side, you and I are likely the two most dangerous things in the region, so if you stay close to them, they should be fine."

Praxius gave a short nod. "I planned on it anyway." He shut the door firmly behind him, and headed for the gate. No way he would believe an elf. If there were experiments wandering around, it was probably the archmage doing it. Still. That meant there were likely more things out there worth hunting. Hopefully nothing too dangerous for the whelps.

***

Terra stayed well ahead of the cart; she'd started copying her father over an hour ago, and walking rather than riding; claiming it was to help build up her stamina, rather than just riding along while Kylie and Derek went on about research, going over the book, and the elixir.... and the two rescuees blathered on about gossip, about the nearby towns, about the men they knew, their hopes for Brendale...

When they were mute, it was easy to forget the women existed. They had huddled together, cowered when anyone approached, and generally kept to themselves. The elf seemed to have healed both their bodies, and their spirits; they were so much happier and calmer than before that it seemed infectious, with everyone but Terra and her grandfather seeming to perk up as the trip went on. The constant talking... was annoying.

She watched the chain-devil as he kept a steady pace, surveying the forest to either side, and wondered. What had grandmother been like? What kind of woman would marry a devil? Her mother's books warned that Kytons has habits most other devils lacked, like tendencies to care about families and relationships, because unlike most, they were an actual, distinct, species; the tormentors and enforcers of their region of hell, actually born and raised rather than simply elevated from the status of a lesser devil like their kin.

Her mother called herself a witch; using all sorts of magic to defend their home, with a special fondness for her legion of animate plants and trees. How much of her power was from the devil side, and how much from whatever grandmother was? She was rarely spoken of. Perhaps...

She picked up the pace. It took a few minutes of half-jogging before she was side by side with her grandfather, slowly eating up the miles towards Brendale.

"I... was wondering if you would be willing to tell me about my grandmother. How you two met, and ended up together?"

Praxius glanced over at her... then resumed his measured pace; examining a stretch of forest to the right... examining a stretch to the left... following a meticulous pattern he'd worked out centuries ago that caught most... but not all... probably ambushers. "You don't want to hear most of it. I suspect you don't want to hear about the sex lives of your grandparents. Initially all we shared was mutual attraction, and a love of killing demons. Didn't really intend anything long-term, at first."

"...Sorry for the side-track there. But why do devils hate demons so much? Mom said they've been at war for as long as they've both existed... I know devils are supposed to be just as evil and all that, but the Empire barely even mentions that, just focuses on the sheer mass of those irritating spider-demons your people butchered."

A slow nod. "When a soul dies, it moves on to its final reward. For those souls that weren't good in life, they go on to both the hells, and the pits. The ones that show up in the hells were the ones who were more... organized. The ones who lived by codes, who followed laws, who had some respect for hierarchy. The pits... are all the rest. Most souls go to the pits, by a huge margin, unfortunately; and if the world is filled with chaos, it gets worse. You mortals tend to only follow laws when threatened with violence, arrest. Devils are made from the souls who typically wouldn't break them regardless... though we'll gladly bend and twist them whichever ways to get what we want."

He gave a slow whistle. "In the pits, soul eats soul, they fight and butcher each other, getting stronger with time; and as they get stronger, they start to develop intelligence... but still never change their innate nature. While devils want a rigid, structured society, both in the afterlife, and here among mortals... demons just want to eat, consume, grow stronger. They outnumber us, and you mortals, by a vast margin.. more of their kind of souls arrive in the pits every passing moment... and if unchecked, would simply swarm over everything, devouring it all."

"So. If the devils were ever to somehow win... we'd establish order, both here and there, and destroy the demon's souls as they arrived in the pits. It would be an eternity of peace and order beneath our heels. If the demons win... it's done. They'll consume and destroy each other til only two demons are left, and then one will eat the other... and a single demon will be all that lives, until it finally grows so bored with it that it consumes itself."

"...I can see why the Empire prefers the devils then."