Preface

The lead up to Christmas hasn't been fully written so this is as canon as you want it to be. It might fit, it might not.

Rigal's Merry Christmas I: The Dyslexic Satanist

Rigal Phenex

This was the life. The holidays were here and there wasn't much I had had to do. The Light's ploy with Starro failed thanks to my adorable little egghead.

Serling made the unimaginatively named Cure-tech in advance so the Justice League was mind controlled for all of two minutes before Max and I tagged them all like a vet tracking which wild raccoons he'd neutered already. The Light wasn't happy with me, but I considered it a fair price to pay for a peaceful holiday.

Even better, Zatanna finally agreed to go out with me a month prior. She'd been a part of my peerage for a few months now, but it was only recently that she agreed to put a label on our relationship. It made that Halloween fiasco and using up both bishop pieces worthwhile.

I leaned back into the sofa with a contented sigh. Max munched on popcorn on one end of the sofa and Zatanna lounged on the other, feet on my lap. Shadowcrest Manor was hers with her dad taking up residence in the Tower of Fate, but she spent most of her time here at the Phoenix Roost these days. She was a social creature at heart and the solitude didn't suit her.

For Christmas Eve, we decided to host a Christmas movie marathon. Everyone in my inner circle recommended one so Max could really feel the holiday spirit. Naturally, we saved Die Hard for the last movie of the night.

Unfortunately, Serling had just turned on the movie when we felt it. I was being summoned. Not only that, the pull of the summoning spell was so potent that it not only touched me, the intended target, but resounded across our bond.

"W-What was that?" my Pawn asked nervously. She was still a woman of science at heart. She'd accepted that magic existed, but she'd yet to fully embrace its possibilities.

"That was a summon," my lovely Bishop informed her. "And a powerful one. It's strictly calling Rigal though."

"Aren't all summons the same? You just tear the bookmark, right?"

"Yes and no. The bookmark is a rudimentary ritual and the act of tearing it voluntarily is the final piece that completes the ritual. But, the desires and magical potential of the summoner can greatly affect the final outcome. For example, the bookmark has to determine which of us to call, right?"

"True… Then why did we all feel it?"

"That's a good question," Zatanna said. She hopped to her feet and yanked me along. "With enough magic, it's a possibility. Although, the number of people who can toss around this kind of mana and would still be interested in a contract is… small."

I sighed and patted Max on the shoulder. "Sorry, man. You can keep watching the movie if you want. Die Hard's great."

"Damn, I kinda wanted to watch it with everyone," Max said through a mouthful of popcorn.

"Don't worry about it. I've seen it a few times already. I do need to see what this summoning is about though. Someone with that much mana might end up doing something… unfortunate."

"And I'm going with you. You might be the expert on demonic magic, but I'm more familiar with most of the other stuff," Zatanna said, leaving no room for argument. "Besides, I've never been on this side of one of your contracts before. I want to see what kinds of jobs you get."

"Fair enough. I get summoned for pretty boring reasons though. Usually, it's to identify relics, heal someone, or even just to sip whiskey and play chess with a client," I told her blandly. Chess wasn't exactly a spectator sport. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "If we have time after, wanna make a date of it?"

"Where is the summoner? For being both a hero and a devil, I don't get to travel nearly as often as I'd like. I'd be down to explore their city later."

"Jump City. I don't think I've been down that way before so this'll be new to me, too. I hear their nightlife is pretty neat."

"I think dad and I went for one of his shows before, but I obviously didn't get to go clubbing. Let's go get changed. This should be interesting."

X

It was, in fact, interesting. Unfortunately, it was also a colossal pain in the ass. I could feel my girlfriend's seething glare drilling holes into the side of my head, all but demanding an explanation.

We were in what was clearly an extremely affluent woman's bedroom. It looked like the room of daddy's little princess, with a four-poster bed that sported satin and silk curtains and probably cost more than a normal man's monthly wages. Everything, from the wallpaper to the plus rug beneath my feet, was some shade of pink.

The decor wasn't any less gaudy. There was an entire army of stuffed animals arranged all around the room. There was even an entire collection of stuffed capes, heroes and villains both. I didn't even know they made stuffed villains but I'd been enlightened.

I could only imagine that the rest had been added rather hastily. There were candles scattered around the room, but not the kind that fit with the room's questionable ambiance.

The candleholders were gold and ebony wood, with a clear demonic theme. Skulls, bats, an actual goat's skull that had been gilded and stuck with a massive candle on its forehead, that sort of thing.

I looked down at what was obviously meant to be the centerpiece of the room. It was a "demonic" circle, if a tween goth girl in her school's drama club made it for her "totally rad" original production.

The aforementioned pink rug had been rolled partially aside to the foot of the bed, revealing a luxurious oak floor. Said flooring was ruined thoroughly by a large circle of salt, with exactly thirteen candles spaced sort-of-evenly along the circumference.

Within the circle of salt was yet another circle, the one we stood in, a pentagram made from what looked like blood at first glance. My nose told me otherwise. The metallic tang of blood was one I'd long since come to recognize and this wasn't it. The circle's ink had a chemical tang that meant it was probably stolen from a costume shop or something.

This "bargain bin cultist who also loves stuffed animals" vibe wasn't what had Zatanna glaring. No, that would be our summoner, who knelt on the bed in what I was sure she thought was a seductive pose.

Zatanna was a part of my peerage. I'd been very forthright with her about being a devil, especially what devil lords typically did with their peerages. It was one of the reasons she'd been hesitant to jump into a relationship with me. She knew I might one day have a harem, and was open to being a little adventurous, but this wasn't how she wanted to be confronted with that possibility.

My summoner was an admittedly attractive girl, probably somewhere between seventeen and twenty. Her hair was light, bottle-blonde, like a barbie, which seemed a bit redundant because I could see that her roots were a warm, honey-gold anyway. Her eyes were big and blue, with clear skin and pouty lips that probably made her the queen bee among her peers.

She was also half naked. Her nightgown, barbie-link like the wallpaper, was open, revealing a set of black and red lingerie that had an honest to Lucifer skull design over the cups and a fluttering bat… below. She'd painted her lips with dark lipstick and there was an obviously fake nose ring on her left nostril.

In her hand was a bloody dagger. It was a wicked, curved thing that radiated magic. It had been soaked in her blood, a light cut on her palm, and used to sign a contract that had been laid at her side on the bed.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Baffling. She hadn't sprung for the real blood in the circle but the contract had been signed in hers. She was obviously a novice who really wanted to avoid as much pain as possible. The overall vibe was a laughably clashing mix of valley girl and a demonic cult's virgin sacrifice. I legitimately had no idea how I should react to this.

"This… This isn't normal, Z," I said, trailing off awkwardly.

My girlfriend looked around the room distastefully before giving my "sacrifice" a once-over. She clicked her tongue judgingly. "No, I'd assume your usual clients are a little more competent… and dressed."

"Hey, I summoned one devil, not two," the blonde complained. I'd been spot-on with the valley girl stereotype. She couldn't sound more "Miley Cyrus but even more airheaded" if she tried. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"Zatanna Zatara, Bishop of Rigal Phenex, magical expert for the Justice League. You are?"

"Yeah? Well, my daddy is Killer Moth."

"Pft, Killer Moth? Really? That two-bit villain?"

"E-Excuse you? Daddy's a fantastic villain! He's never been caught!"

"Of course, because he's not worth going after in the first place," she said derisively. She leaned into me possessively, which made me think they weren't really arguing about whoever Killer Moth was.

I didn't want to. If Uncle Issei's harem had taught me one thing, it was that interfering in a brewing cat fight was a horrible idea. And yet, I had no choice if I wanted to get this over with.

Worse, I couldn't just cancel the contract and leave. Well, I could, but the magic dagger called to me. It radiated mana, more than just about any other artifact I'd ever seen in this world. Had I not been looking at it directly, I would have mistaken the artifact for a powerful mage in its own right.

The interesting part of that knife was that it was unaligned. Usually, powerful artifacts like that one had a factional alignment, or at least an elemental affinity. They were often relics made by a god or some other powerful entity, like the Amulet of Aten, and inherited a bit of said entity's "flavor" for lack of a better word.

Not so with this one. This knife was clearly an athame, a ritual dagger typically used in blood sacrifices, but with a true neutral nature. It was neither good nor evil, neither holy nor demonic. I could feel no taint in it, not even a budding sentience that urged the wielder to wield it.

Which raised the question of how a girl like her acquired it. And, if left alone, what the obvious amateur would do with it. Summoning myself and Zatanna was probably the best possible outcome for someone like her.

"Ladies, you're both pretty," I said soothingly. I looked at the barbie cultist. "Look, can we just get to the reason you summoned me? My name is Rigal Phenex. How about we start with your name and what you want?"

"Hmph! You don't bring a plus one to these kinds of things, you know," she said, glaring at Zatanna.

"Are you the devil or am I? I can bring whoever I want, girlfriend included. Besides, I'll have you know, Zatanna is one of the foremost experts on magic in the world. You want her here, trust me."

"G-Girlfriend? Devils have girlfriends?"

I sighed. Of course that was what she focused on. "We do. Now, who are you and what do you want?"

"I'm Kitten, and I…" she mumbled something, so quietly that I couldn't hear even with my enhanced hearing.

"You're going to have to speak up, Kitten," I said. "I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me."

"Umm… Iwanttolosemyvirginitytoahunkyguy!"

It took us a few seconds to decipher that word vomit. Then, Zatanna stalked forward, putting herself between us with an angry scowl.

"No. Fuck no. Absolutely not, Rigal," she growled. "I don't care if this is a contract, you're not having sex with some random valley girl twit. We agreed that any other girl needs my approval and I'm vetoing her."

"Hey! That was before I knew he was taken," Kitten protested. "I'm not a homewrecker!"

"Good! What were you thinking? Is 'demon summoning' really the best way to get your rocks off?"

"It's not that! I just… I thought that if I had powers too, I could help daddy with his work…" she said, trailing off into a whisper. It seemed she cared about her father, for all that he was a villain to the rest of the world. "Isn't there some kind of ritual for a virgin's blood? It's in all the stories…"

"Not like this! You just had to rip the bookmark to summon us! And my boyfriend isn't going to have sex with you!"

"Well I know that now," Kitten huffed, closing her nightgown. She stood with a put upon sigh. "Guess this whole devil summoning thing isn't all it's cracked up to be. I want my soul back…"

"I don't deal in souls," I corrected her. "Didn't you read my bookmark?"

"No? I'm dyslexic. Why would I read that? I barely read my schoolwork, thanks."

I looked at her, then at Zatanna. She had the same dumbfounded expression on my face. "I… Holy shit…"

"Your summoner is an idiot," my girlfriend deadpanned.

"I'm not!" Kitten pouted. "Daddy says I can do anything and having trouble reading doesn't mean I'm stupid!"

"Daddy lied, princess."

"Look, Kitten. I'm glad your father's supportive of you, but devils have enough of an advantage in contract negotiations without the human voluntarily refusing to read," I cut in before the two could get going again. I placed a comforting hand on their shoulders before turning to Kitten with a soothing smile. "Okay, I see that you have a dagger and that you've signed your name in blood on that sheet of paper. Can you explain, step by step, what you did?"

She flushed red, clearly aware of her state of undress and my natural charisma. "Okay, so I heard rumors that you grant wishes and found this dagger in a gift shop. I thought I could do something neat and have an ironclad contract, you know? So I was super careful to write it out. I even used spell-check and everything."

"And then you tore the bookmark."

"And then I tore the bookmark."

"Okay… And you offered your soul in exchange."

"Yeah, I mean. It's not even a real thing, right? You get something no one cares about, I get a wish," she said flippantly. Apparently, she thought she was giving away something that didn't exist for a free wish. "Like, everyone knows the brain is where the memory is at. Hello~ This is the twenty-first century~"

"I'm surprised she knows that much," Zatanna muttered under her breath.

"Now, now, Z," I said with a patience that probably qualified me for sainthood. "We need to untangle this mess. I think I know what's going on."

"What? And if you say you're really going to dick her down…"

"I'm not. She managed to perform two rituals simultaneously. The first is my bookmark, easy. Tear it and I come. The second is whatever she wrote on the paper over there. The dagger is magical and acknowledged the blood sacrifice."

"No, no way. It's hard enough doing one ritual right," Zatanna said. She crossed her arms with a skeptical pout. "There's no way she managed two, even with your bookmark doing the heavy lifting. Unless…"

"Yeah, unless the dagger used my bookmark as the medium. Normally, a small blood sacrifice like her signature would never provide enough magic for a summoning ritual. But if the dagger recognized the lack of mana and latched onto the nearest source… It might be why we sensed its magic through the summoning."

"Ugh, this whole thing is giving me a headache. Rituals are not supposed to be blended like this."

"They're not. Kitten, you're ridiculously fortunate that you happened to summon me."

"W-Well, I know what I'm doing," the blonde said defensively. She convinced absolutely no one. "If you're not going to give me magic powers, then give me a billion dollars."

"Sorry, I don't have a billion. And even if I did, I don't want your soul."

"Well, I already gave it to you so you have to grant a wish," she said, with all the spoiled authority she could muster. "Give me a porsche then! A pink one!"

"I can't just magic up whatever you want. And even if I could, I refuse to acknowledge the payment of your soul," I stressed. "Mind you, a soul you don't really believe exists."

"I gave it to you so you need to give me something!" she demanded. She was getting very agitated now. She even stamped her foot in anger; I didn't know people did that outside of cartoons.

"No, you didn't," I said patiently. This was the true holiday miracle right here. "If you gave me your soul, trust me, I would have noticed."

This time, it was Zatanna who interrupted us. She had on her serious, "hero mode" expression. "Hold on, Rigal. The dagger's obviously magical and Kitten insists she's made payment but you obviously don't have your soul. Kitten, let me see that contract."

Kitten handed it over with a huff. "See? It says I offer my soul in exchange for summoning! And you guys are here so it counts!"

Zatanna began to read with a worried expression. "Yeah, that's what it says… And the magic activated so where is your sou… Pftt, no way."

"What?"

"No. Fucking. Way."

"What is it?"

"Hahahahahahaha! You didn't sell your soul to Satan, you sold your soul to Santa!" she cackled. I'd never seen her go from serious to cracking up so fast. If she laughed any harder, I suspected she might pee herself.

I took the contract from her and read. Sure enough, there it was. Kitten had spelled everything right, except the one word that mattered.

To be fair, I wasn't Satan. "Satan" was the title given to one of the four rulers of the Underworld: Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Leviathan, and of course, Lucifer. My family held the rank of marquis, but even I wasn't that high up on the totem pole. Had she spelled it correctly, there was a decent chance she would have had her soul sucked into Hell.

I began laughing as well, more out of relief than anything. "K-Kitten, you've got to be the luckiest girl in the world."

"I am?" she asked. "Well, I mean, of course I am."

"You sold your soul to Santa."

"No I didn't. Or you wouldn't be here."

"I'm here because you tore the bookmark. The other half of the ritual, the one selling your soul, still activated."

Zatanna stopped laughing at that. "Wait… Who has Kitten's soul then?"

"Didn't you read? Santa."

"Santa's not real… Is he?"

I nodded solemnly. "Yes, he is. And I have a feeling I know who's on his naughty list this year…"

Author's Note

There is a joke: Did you hear about the dyslexic satanist? He sold his soul to Santa.

Yes, I made an entire omake series based on that joke. No, I'm not sorry. I'm not sure why the summoner ended up being Kitten from Teen Titans, but she is. She seemed like the kind of airhead that would do this.

Christmas joke? Christmas joke:

Q: How are Santa Claus and Tiger Woods different?

A: Santa stops after three "ho"s.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.