Jasmine sat, contemplating her decisions and future. The act to save her companion was the right one, but to do so, she used heretical methods. It was not as though she viewed them as heretical. She must consider public opinion. Despite all this, she acted in the best interest of saving his life.
Glancing at the young man obliviously playing his game console. She found his visage a stark contrast to the strange new world. She would never admit it, but his cavalier and childlike attitude grounded her. This fantastical world, reminiscent of the European Middle Ages, with magic thrown in for good measure, confounded her.
Peter had been a grounding force, a person she could glance at for a moment. He was truly of earth, the typical youngster, obsessed with video games and pop culture. A true patron of earth, in contrast to the new world.
Moving away from this nonsense, she shifted her focus to more pressing concerns. The existence of a fourth hero complicated matters. Their brief conversation revealed that he was not summoned as a secret fourth elemental hero.
Based on his statements, he possessed magic well before his arrival in this world. This could only mean there could be other practitioners of magic back on earth. Leaving that notion for another day, she shifted to even more pressing issues. The demonic physician had just left to perform the same procedure on the kingdom's warden.
Right on cue, the physician returned, emerging from inky darkness. Only this time, he was not alone. He carried two men, each in one hand. Dragging them unceremoniously across the floor.
“Greetings, my dear. There has been a little snag.” The demon remarked before dumping his baggage.
“What do you mean, and who are they?” Jasmine inquired, stunned.
Peter looked up from his game, muttered the word cool before lowering his head.
“Tell the lovely lady what you told me, swine.” Thrusting one of the still living men, he prompted him to talk.
“Please don’t hurt me.” The man begged, frightened out of his wits.
“That is not what I asked. Do you want me to administer some more treatment?”
Reaching into his cloak, Maligore felt around for the proper instrument. The sight caused the captive’s eyes to widen in terror and he quickly poured his heart out. He explained the council had ordered him to seize the warden and his family. He also said that others had been sent to surround the villa and capture the three heroes.
“This sounds like a coup. Rather bold of them to act immediately after a devastating riot.” Jasmine muttered, trying to identify their motive.
“Peter, we need to leave.” She commanded, bringing the boy out of his gaming session.
“Why?” He asked, oblivious to the situation.
“Because this kingdom is rebelling against the Empire.”
“Really, that’s cool, but why are we leaving? We can fight these dudes?” Tilting his head, he shot back a question.
“Because they have a man that can fly, breath fire and destroy buildings with a punch.” Explaining the situation slowly as if to a child, Peter’s eyes widened in realisation.
“But isn't he a superhero?”
“Do superheroes burn innocent civilians?”
“Nope, that is supervillain territory.” Answering the question, the correct answer dawned on him a second later.
“We got to bail, don’t we?”
Jasmine nodded, then turned to the demon and inquired if it would help in their escape.
“I will assist all my patients in reaching a safe place in which they can recover.” The demon answered proudly.
Jasmine nodded and was about to get ready to vacate. Turning back to the demon, who was now leaving through the portal.
“What about the warden's family? Can you get them to me?”
Maligore stopped in his tracks, the groaning soldiers clutched in his claws. Twisting his head rather unnaturally, he smiled and nodded.
“It is a matter of course that a patient's family visits their ailing family member.” With that line, he exited through the portal.
As the demon exited, she pondered if it was wise to send a demon to kidnap a family. But considering the situation, it seemed the best measure they had available. With her thoughts in order, she told Peter to remain here and wait for the demon to return. The boy saluted sloppily in affirmation with a bright smile.
Peter watched as Jasmine left, explaining she was gathering the others. Her plan was to make their way as a group to the portal room. He understood and watched her leave. The door shut behind and faint footsteps ebbed away in the distance.
Sitting back on the couch, he wondered if he should play his game while he waited. He had recently captured a wyvern type and was in the process of levelling him to at least fifty. That was a necessity when challenging the elite six. He could not have a single weak link in his team. Game console in hand, he pondered his options.
Shaking his head, he put the game away. He was ignoring the situation, playing casually to keep the mounting stress at bay. Trying to act cool when the mere thought of the past sent chills down his spine. His fantastical journey, wielding magic and preparing to be a hero, nearly ended with a single slice of his neck.
Thankfully, the memories were blurry, but the pain that accompanied them had etched itself into his memory. He shivered, his once quiet emotions charging up for another climax. Playing his game helped, the focus on a single task allowed him to ignore. But with the changing circumstances, he could no longer ignore.
Seated, he gripped the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric. Body shaking, eyes blinking furiously, still unknown to himself, his pupils widened, turning crimson red. A deadly chill emerged from his fingertips, freezing everything it touched. Over time, the couch froze over, transforming from an ornate place to sit to a throne of ice.
Calming his racing heart, he leaned back, oddly enjoying the chill feeling. His eyes faded to their normal colour and his back relaxed into the frozen seat. Finally, his calm heart descended to a level he could endure. The serenity was short-lived with the sound of vague voices. Oddly enough, he could hear them as if they were just beside him. Two men whispered through the door, himself the topic of discussion.
“Come on, the girl has left. This is our chance.” A gruff voice intoned.
“But they are the literal heroes of the empire. Beside they told us to just watch them.” Another younger voice answered, pleading with the first.
“I know, but one of them is on the edge of death. All we need to do is grab the passed-out kid, and I'm sure our superiors will reward us greatly.”
“I don’t know. It seems risky.”
“Do you want to be a grunt all your life?” The older man questioned.
“No.” the younger replied, audibly deflating.
“Then stop being coward and let's get in there.”
The finality in the older man's voice spurned them on. He could hear them reach for the doorhandle. Despite being locked, they opened it with a key. The older man entered first, appearing to a be gruff older guard. Dressed in gambeson, chain mail, and wielded a short sword. His companion, similarly dressed, entered behind him.
Confused at first, the elder looked at the empty bed. The truth soon dawned on him once he shifted his perceptions to the periphery. A glare shot back at him from the young man seated on a couch encased in ice. The eyes were red and did not seem human at all.
“Hydro Blast!” The boy yelled, raising his palm.
Instead of the expected gout of pressurised water. A sharp icicle manifested, firing off like a bullet from a gun. Instead of blasting him against the wall with a rush of water. The icicle impaled the man to the wall, puncturing his chest and pinning him down. The clean strike penetrated his heart, ending his life almost immediately.
The act lasted for only a second, but it felt like an eternity. Peter, who had never killed or even threw a successful punch, just killed his first man. His mind reeling, he barely had time to recognise the act before instinct kicked in. Shifting his gaze to the younger man, he saw he was about to run.
“No, stop!” He commanded, reaching his head out.
What spewed forth was a spray of ice-cold air, freezing the man like a sculpture. Encased in ice, stuck in a pose of fleeing. His face now permanently displayed his fear and confusion. Not knowing what to do, Peter panicked, shutting the door and slowly pacing back.
Looking down at his trembling hands, he tried desperately to rationalise what he did. Killing two men, at least by accident. He wondered if that was what he intended. Parsing those thoughts felt unfamiliar and dangerous.
The sound of tearing broke him out if it is thoughts. Drawing his gaze to the corner, he noted the swirling blackness. The tear in shadow and reality that spoke of a demon's advent. In truth, it was just Maligore returning. Instead of carrying some soldiers, he arrived with two figures in hand. Both women, one older, blonde-haired and likely in her mid-thirties. The other also blonde seemed to be in her teens.
Behind him entered a hospital gurney with the recovering warden. Peter, for a moment, wondered where the demon got such an article. It seemed in stark contrast to the medieval world. The demon shambled into the room; the gurney following him. Placing the two women gently to the side, both shoulder to shoulder and sleeping soundly.
Once his task was complete, he turned to Peter. The pitch-black eyeballs scanned the room. Once his gaze reached the impaled man and his accompanying ice sculpture. The demon smiled, assessing the tableau as if it was art.
"Love what you have done with the place. Is it a piece of art?" Maligore inquired.
“What did you do to me?” Peter shakily questioned, ignoring whatever the demon had previously uttered.
“What I did, I administered your treatment.” He answered simply, with a light shrug.
Peter’s shoulders shook, emotion welling up inside as he glared at his own palms. Suddenly, turned away, his glowing red eyes glaring at the demon.
“What have you done!?” He roared indigently, his voice distorting.
Now face to face with the red-eyed boy, comprehension dawned on the demon. Instead of shying away, he leaned forward, observing every facet. Peter, still fuming, felt an incomprehensible sensation not to attack. It was nothing that could prevent his actions, merely a sense of familiarity.
Maligore smiled cheekily, manifesting a monocle in one hand. Peering through the ornate eye piece, he seemed to study the boy.
“Truly fascinating.” He muttered.
“I had known there were side effects to the treatment. But they were always so negligible it didn’t really matter. The patient survived, and that’s all that matter to them. Sure, a few had some mutations, but nothing as obvious as this.”
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
“What side effects?” Peter asked, somehow calming himself.
“The procedure adapts the mortal form to the infernal. Injecting the body, a diluted form of infernal energy. You can consider it a vaccine of sorts, but to a higher yield. It does not remove the disease, merely allows you to endure it.”
His explanation seemed like gibberish to Peter. Harping on about vaccines and infernal energy, he wanted the demon to speak plainly. Before he can chastise the demonic Riddler, the demon spoke again.
“I can see that you don’t understand. That’s fine, honestly this is a surprise to me. But in simple terms, you have somehow gained an equilibrium with the spirit and the infernal. I suspect it is likely because of your unique situation as a summoned being, imbued with spiritual might and tainted with devil's blood.”
Putting away the monocle, the demon folded his arms and waited.
“Are you saying I'm part demon now?” The question came out calmer than he would have expected.
Peter found the situation strange, if he was honest. He once thought of gaining demonic powers as being cool. Yet the reality only left him afraid and uncertain. Fantasy should never be reality, despite how much an immature mind craves it. That thought ran through his head, but the reality was something he needed to face.
“Part demon is not entirely accurate. You are no cambion of birth. But I'd say you are very close to that description.” The demon explained, tilting his head.
The concept slowly dawned on him. He was part demon, no matter what video game or novel he read. This was usually not a good thing. Either by demons being evil or simply viewed as evil by everyone else.
“Will I turn evil or grow horns?” He asked in desperation.
“I can't say whether you will grow horns. But evil, such morality doesn’t apply to us internals. We reject such labels.”
The demon looked affronted by the question. It made Peter feel slightly bad about suggesting it. Concepts of good and evil were far too arbitrary for real life. Such black and white notions existed only in fantastical stories that required a clear definition of protagonists and antagonists. Peter honestly preferred stories that broke the mould.
“Sorry, mister demon, I didn't mean to suggest all demons are evil. I just want to know what will happen to me, that’s all.” He remarked sincerely.
Maligore nodded in understanding, not that he was unaware of his people’s infernal reputation. Very few dimensions looked kindly on them.
“Please call me Maligore or Mal for short. I understand your concern. We demons have a poor reputation, mainly because of the demon lords that invade the mortal realms.”
“Demon Lords?” Peter asked, noting the familiar term.
Stories used the term to refer to a demon who was part of a kingdom's aristocracy. Or the more common setup was the convenient enemy of a fantasy world, bent to destroying or conquering.
“A bunch of ruffian warlords and invaders. They are of low birth and seek fame, fortune or land upon the mortal realms.” His explanation denoted a slight disdain for such demons.
“But despite my dislike of the practice, they certainly are my best clients and patients.” Ending his words with a deeply unsettling, cackling laugh.
The demon in that moment reminded Peter of the wicked witch, only far more terrifying.
“Let me get these straight. Demon lords are basically demonic Vikings that invade. Wait, a second, what are the mortal realms exactly?”
“Seriously, you mortals are so uneducated. Though I’ve never heard of the term viking. The demon lords are essentially war band invaders for plunder and land. The mortal realms are the various universes where mortals live.”
His words, heavy with meaning, crashed down. The multiverse was a real thing. The concept of that was staggering and should have been obvious. Peter understood that someone had summoned him to a fantasy world. But to think more universes existed.
Stuck in his pondering, he nearly forgot about his act of murder. Turning back to the sight of his sin. He was aghast with the sudden absence of corpses. Not a trace if their bodies remained.
Looking back at the demon, Maligore shrugged with a cheeky smile.
“I saw the bodies were disturbing you. So I got rid of them. Us internals should stick together, hey brother.” Maligore spoke reassuringly, placing a clawed arm on Peter's shoulder.
The young man was nowhere near reassured, but still tried to claim a strong face. Yet he found the lack of fear around such a terrifying demon quite disturbing. It felt like all his expected instincts when face to face with a literal demon, where gone.
The clawed monstrosity was oddly pleasant to converse with. He was not sure if it was the demon's manner of speech or the change within him.
Before he could go deeper into this strange situation. The door abruptly opened. Wincing at the entry, Peter swiftly turned, expecting an enemy. His hands emitted chilled air, ready to unleash another blast of cold.
Upon witnessing who was entering, he dropped his guard. It was Jasmine accompanied by Lucy and the others. The moment they entered, only Jasmine and Lucy reacted to a demon. Jasmine merely turned back to reassure the imperials. Each of them grew stiff, their eyes fixed on the aloof being of pure evil. Their hands glided slowly to their respective weapons. Long sword, rapier and wand were all within reach. Lucy had the oddest of reactions.
“Pretty,” she squeaked, pointing at the demon.
The rest looked down at the excited girl, every single one of them thoroughly confused. In fact, all of them were stunned by the silence. It was the demon, however, that ended such a situation.
“Why thank you a little one. I have always taken pride in my appearance.” He said with a theatrical flourish of his claws.
“The fire around you, such a pretty colour.” Lucy added.
The rest looked even more perplexed. Suddenly, the demon's presence wasn’t important. Now they were trying to fathom what the little girl was saying.
“Oh, you can see the Flames of Infernum, I am impressed little one. Most mortals could barely pierce the veil of our true nature.”
Unknown to the rest, Lucy could, in fact, see all forms of heat and fire. Even the flames of the soul or whatever the demon had instead. To her, most people had an aura of around them. Some brighter, some dimmer. But every single one had similar colours ranging from yellow to red. Yet this demon’s inner fire was maroon, a favourite of Lucy’s.
The little girl's childlike statement cast a bucket of water on this tense moment. The lull allowed Jasmine to cut in before anything untoward occurred.
“This is Maligore and yes, he is a demon. I summoned him and I shall take responsibility should he harm anyone.” She stated her position firmly, with a stiff upper lip and serious composure.
The three turned their gazes away from the demon and looked even more perplexed at Jasmine. She stared them down, not for a second breaking eye contact. Eventually, one opted out of the staring contest, shaking her head.
“To summon a demon is dangerous. Not only is it against imperial law, but the Temple of Fire. considers it heresy.” Elisara firmly stated, crossing her arms and staring her down sternly.
"Peter was dying, and I chose the practical option. Besides, I'm not an Empire citizen, and from another perspective, they'd consider me a kidnapping victim." Jasmine shot back.
The witch cringed at the rebuke, turning down her gaze in shame. She herself was involved in the ritual to summon the heroic trinity. She thought it an honour, but this young girl made her see it in a different light. If it wasn’t for Jasmine’s cooperation, the Empire would be kidnappers holding the citizen of another realm hostage.
“But demons are dangerous, irrelevant to whatever the fire worshippers say.” Halmar cut in, keeping his eye on the demon.
“This situation is irrelevant; we need to leave this city. Helgos is rebelling. We can either stay and become a political hostage or escape back to imperial lands.” Shutting down her guardian, she stated the situation bluntly.
Her words became a sobering thought, and they settled the matter about the demon for now. Huddling together, they mapped out the plan to escape. With the incapacitated members, such as the warden and his family. Frederik would carry them the strongest here. The warden would stay on his gurney, Maligore agreed to loan it for the time being.
The demon would accompany but leave once they entered the portal. Seeing no other option but to let the demon loose, considering no one wanted a battle to break out with an unknown threat. The plan took form and was relatively simple. They would quickly make their way to the portal room, eliminate all obstacles and vacate to the Empire.
Elisara pulled Jasmine aside. The rest of the group readied themselves to leave, huddled together to go over the plan.
“How did you summon a demon? Such methods are unknown to me.”
“I have my ways.” She answered, setting up a silence that broached no further questions.
“Fine, keep your secrets. But we will have to talk later, when we're back in Judica.”
The two parted, casting suspicious glances at each other. The two regrouped with the rest before heading out and making their way to the portal room. Passing down several corridors, they could avoid the patrols with Halmar’s familiar. The wind spirit scouting every route and reporting back to his partner.
“Two guards posted at the door.” Halmar explained, his head titled at an angle. For the magically inclined, they could see a faint trace of unnatural wind hovering over his ear.
“So, few guards, that’s strange.” Frederik wondered.
“It’s possible they haven't got full control over their forces.” Elisara added.
Watching the guards from the corner, the notice one of them tilt his head to the side. It was an act like Halmar listening to his familiar. After a few seconds, the guards turned to glare down the corridor. Spotting their group and revealing they were not just simple guards. Brandishing staves, they revealed themselves as battle wizards, a class of magic casters tailored for combat.
One of them thrust forth his staff. What emerged was a maelstrom of force. As the kinetic energy travelled down and impacted Halmar, the corridor shook. The force sent the fencer flying into the nearby wall. Standing shoulder to shoulder, the two battle wizards guarded the corridor. The other one that had yet to act raised his staff, casting a barrier.
A shimmering force field sprang into existence, blocking the entrance. The group, stunned at this show of power, didn’t realise Peter breaking away. Jumping out into the corridor, he glared down at the two wizards. The sight of a young boy opposing them caused them to chuckle with laughter. Clearly not seeing him as a threat, despite knowing his identity.
Thrusting his palms out, Peter aimed them at the floor and sprayed the ground with sub-zero temperatures. The ground froze over, bypassing the wizard's shield. Once the frozen land made its way to them, the two comically slipped and fell.
Dropping their staves and losing their focus. The shield winked out of existence. Peter launched into action, guided by pure impulse. Every step turned the ice into a water vapour. Reaching his foes, he froze them to the ground, trapping their limbs and keeping their staves out of reach.
Towering above them, the young man morphed into the eyes of his victims. With their wizard's sight, they saw considerably more than any mortal man. It wasn’t the gleam in his shining red eyes nor the overwhelming aura of his patron spirit. It was the faint traces of the infernal that caused such fear.
Every Helgosian wizard feared the infernal. Despite the practice being common in the past. Demons were still fearsome beings of fire and wrath. Only the bravest and wisest of practitioners could contend with them.
These two wizards were not ignorant of the ways of diabolists. In fact, they had summoned minor demons in the past, flouting imperial law. But despite their experience, they were terrified by the sight of a being possessed by both the holy spirit and the devil's touch.
The two wailed and screamed as if Peter was the devil in human form. Disturbed by their act of pure terror, Peter stepped back. His face stretched into a wild and fearful expression. Despite this, he still had the mental fortitude to notice the shadow slip by his periphery.
Maligore manifested beside the two wailing men. Like an angel of death, he slipped a syringe into each of their necks. The two fell limp after only a few seconds.
“You killed them!” The voice of Frederik rebounded from behind.
The demon turned to the knight, affronted by the insinuation. Placing the syringes in his lapel, he vanished, only to appear in front of the knight. Frederik reacted by reaching for his sword, but stayed his hand.
“I did no such thing. I am a doctor. These two men are merely sleeping. They were in distress and required a skilled medical professional.” The devilish physician explained.
“I shall suggest some bed rest and a psychological evaluation.” He stated with finality, as if the patients could listen.
Jasmine decided at that point to cut in, printing the group to continue. They did so and soon entered the portal room. Within the faintly humming arch was, of course, absent the imperial guards. The patches of blood painting the walls explained precisely why they were absent.
The group ignored the obvious bloodshed. Instead, Elisara went to work activating the portal. The thrumming grew louder and arcane symbols lit up. It was only a matter of time before the portal will open. Heavy footsteps approaching the door dashed their hopes.
“The Blue Dragon, save us!” one guard pleaded.
He received no response. Only Jasmine and her group shivered in fear. They didn’t have time to be afraid as the sound of wood bending inwards and the sensation of heat quickly arrived. Someone was twisting the door into blackened and charred bits.
Jumping into action, still pumped up from the adrenaline surge, Peter approached the door. Raising his palms, he encased the entire entrance to ice. This barely halted the progressive obliteration of the door. Despite that, he continued to release sub-zero temperatures. The heat was overwhelming, and the signs of fatigue were clear as Peter strained to keep up his defence.
Elisara kept to her task, trying to navigate the complex spell work normally performed by several wizards. When it was clear, they would likely not hold out. The rest setup a defensive line, just in case the enemy broke through. From what they learned about this foe, they weren't confident of victory. The memories of how he shrugged off Jasmine’s enhanced punch were fresh in her mind.
On the other side of the door was the dragon himself, slowly getting frustrated. He had ignored the whining insect below his feet and was intent on rendering the door to cinders. Despite his best efforts, someone was resisting. The faint traces of glacial formations told him that likely the champion of water was resisting. The tiny lump of a boy wielding such power surprised him. Increasing the intensity of heat, his fire breath went from yellow to light blue. The plasma slowly eroded the pathetic excuse of an ice wall.
Finally giving up, he was at his limit of patience. Closing his mouth, he angrily approached the ice wall. Raising his fist, he pulled his arm back and readied to obliterate the makeshift barricade. The blow landed and impacted with explosive power, shattering the ice effortlessly. The debris fell upon the two guards, splattering their exposed heads.
Ignoring the deaths, he nonchalantly walked into the portal room. Instead of finding his quarry, he found an empty room and the arch powering down after use. Grinding his teeth, he stamped down the impulse to destroy the offending construct.
Almost an hour later, people cleared the portal room and new figures filled the space. Mr Stillson, who was now known as Chancellor Stillson, stood with his arms behind his back, gazing at the arch. The portal was being tended to by a legion of wizards. They poked and prodded the artefact, attempting to disable it.
A figure moved up beside the chancellor and spoke.
“The empire's champions have escaped to the imperial capital.”
Stillson barely budged from his position as he replied.
“I am aware, but it’s not much of a loss. Having hostages gives us a slight edge in negotiation. But keeping such volatile assets in the city would prove hazardous.”
“But what of the council? Many were expecting us to have cards to play in the secession.”
“They will have it; they need only make a request of the guild.” Stillson stated with finality.
The adjutant nodded in understanding.
“I shall make the preparations for the request. There are a few documents you must sign, but the formal establishment of the Heroic Guild is near completion.”
“Good. Oh, by the way, did the council decide what they are calling this new nation of theirs?” Stillson asked.
“They did indeed, sir. The Helgosian Council State.”