From the Desk of Soren Marlowe
Thursday, November 4th, 2123
Here continue the confessions of Soren Marlowe, the Magpie Wizard. I realize there is a chance that you happened upon this volume without having access to the first. Or, perhaps you’re the sort to skip to the middle first. Awful lot of impatient types out there these days. I don’t know what’s wrong with the rising generation. Society is going to Hell in a handbasket.
Ah, well. By the time you read these confessions, it won’t be my problem anymore. If you see my words, either I have been found out or I am already dead. One will certainly follow the other. The Anti-Demonic League and Wizard Corps don’t treat demonic spies well.
Because, you see, I am not truly Soren Marlowe. He died more than seventy years ago. I am Captain Malthus the Younger of the Grim Horde, the son of Grand Vizier Malthus the Elder and his human wife, Aleksandra. I am one of the first generation of devils born on Earth. We are spiritual beings made flesh, who tired of tempting you fools to ruin. We rebel devils opted to take a more hands on approach to despoiling the Enemy’s creation. We took great pleasure in interrupting humanity’s golden age in 2030. Funny how so many viewed the 2020’s as a dark time. I suppose golden ages are only ever appreciated in retrospect. From your perspective, anything would be better than a superhuman army of spell wielding devils, supernatural beasts and millions upon millions of orcs swarming through a gateway in the far north. We had bent other worlds to our will, but Earth was the grand prize.
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In another life as a promising young officer, I led armies of orcs and goblins against the enemies of my Dark Lord and his Grim Horde. After we had kicked humanity off of any continent larger than Australia during our initial invasion of the world, we were stymied by our lack of a navy, which is all that has let humanity cling to life as well as it has. However, you couldn’t keep us at bay forever, and in late 2049, we invaded the British Isles with a ramshackle fleet of rowboats. We sacked the island, and I was crowned in military glory.
Then I threw it all away. I made my move on Fera, the daughter of my longtime guardian and commanding officer, Grand General Girdan the Fair. I assure you, he got that name for his blonde hair and skin that was a lighter red than most devils, not for his sense of justice and magnanimity. The horny old devil had taught me how to barter in brothels across occupied Europe, but I try to romance his little girl and that’s a bridge too far. I suppose devils aren’t known for logical consistency. That’s how I ended up court martialed and sentenced to death. As a compromise, they banished me to the human realms as a spy. I’m assured they thought it was a death sentence. Shows what they know.
I eventually made my way to the Nagoya Academy of Magic under my assumed name, Soren Marlowe. Marlowe had been one of my victims at the Merlin Academy of Magic in Kent, and it had seemed the perfect cover at the time. I’d learn better.
After some initial culture shock, I had settled into a fairly comfortable routine. I had made a few friends. The fools never suspected who I was. I’d even taken a lover, Ms. Kiyo Jones. In a rare feat for a devil, I’d even managed to keep her. Devils usually move on once we have had our fun, but she had a way of growing on you. The poor, deluded girl had no idea that she shared her bed with a demon.
I resume my retelling about a month from where I last left off, on a morning that didn’t promise any excitement, but would set into motion a chain of events that would end in much misery and death.
If only she hadn’t answered the phone… It wouldn’t have stopped anything, but I could have held onto my little slice of joy that much longer.