Sam and Killian were practicing magic at the poorly sealed rift in the woods one sunny evening. In their short time together, it became clear that Sam had a knack for the arcane arts. Killian estimated that she was capable of a lot more, though he avoided the use of more advanced and questionable practices—both out of fear and displeasure in the idea of Sam following the same path of desire that leads so many astray.

Killian handed Sam the silver rod and said, “You’ve come along well with the basics. I think it’s time you try to conjure something.”

“Conjure? You mean like summon something here?”

He shook his head. “No, summoning is what pulls an existing object or creature from somewhere. Conjuration creates something from ambient mana. It’s a temporary, short-lived existence that can have its uses in performing simple tasks—or a tool that you need on the fly.”

Sam wasn’t so sure of his explanation. “Wouldn’t making something from nothing be more like an illusion?”

“It’s not from nothing… you’re giving an unstable form to mana, like making a castle with wet sand. Illusions are different in that they mostly change perception of reality. But after a certain point, the illusions are indiscernible from reality… and some argue that at that point you have altered reality—but that’s getting into chaos magic.”

“Chaos magic? Sometimes I think y’all make these things confusing on purpose. It’s simple enough to understand that there is light, dark, and blood magic. But why separate these things further when their applications are so similar?”

Killian frowned. “It’s the result of different methods of magic intermixing after the Convergence and the limits of the English language… I will not deny the similarities in all three—but the law defines them differently. Summoning is under void magic, and illusions are chaos magic. Both have hints of dark and blood magic in them with chaos having some light aspects as well. Conjuration is simply arcane magic—a mix of light and dark. It’s not nearly as dangerous as the other two.”

“But I want to learn healing spells! How is that dangerous?”

“We’ve been over this, Sam. The stuff you want to learn is spirit magic. Even though it’s often meant to help others, it still involves a mix of blood with light magic… For now, think of something you’d want to bring out of your mind and into the world.” He paused, thinking of what horrors she might create and shuddered. “Try to keep it small and harmless. And please, nothing vulgar.”

Sam sighed and pointed the rod away from Killian. “I already have an idea of what to make.”

A shining spiral of mana started to flow from the ground. Sam’s eyes began to glow in kind as she formed a familiar in her mind. The mana began to take shape into a tiny black-haired imp—a caricature of Killian—autonomous and reactive to its newfound environment.

“Seriously?” asked Killian. He leaned down and poked the devilish imp which then tried to bite his finger. “Damn thing’s hardly bigger than a squirrel.”

Sam picked up the imp and sat it on top of her left shoulder. “I just created life. Can’t you be impressed for once?” The imp grabbed at her long ear while mumbling to itself.

“It’s not really alive and it’s not even that strong of a conjuration.” He pointed at the imp. “See? The limbs are already fading back into ambient mana.” The imp looked down at its already translucent hands and started screaming. “Great, now it’s having an existential crisis.” The imp’s head then expanded and exploded into a sparkling mist of mana as the spell ran its full course.

“Was it really that bad?” Sam asked, starting to doubt her performance.

Killian shook his head. “Not at all. The fact it could move means you’re already well beyond most beginners…” He then pouted and turned away from Sam.

She went over to him, placing a hand on his back. “Is something wrong?”

He stood silently for a moment and said, “Nah, I was just thinking about my dad. He said something similar to me when I first started out—with a lot more cursing since I managed to set his hair on fire.” He then smiled. “How about we take a quick break. I’ll show you his workshop.”

The two went back to the house and walked down to the back yard. Killian led Sam up the steps of the two-story shed tower and unlocked the door with a key he always kept on his person. The small room could hardly be called a workshop, having more boxes than floorspace, and Sam was more surprised at how much it seemed to hold despite the size of the room from outside. “Looks like a storage space to me.”

Killian brushed off some of the boxes and moved them around. “My mom boxed it all up when they got divorced.” Killian sneezed as some of the dust blew back on his face. “He was really into collecting magical artifacts from other worlds. There’s a lot here that we’re not sure what does or where he even found it. It’s all mine now… whatever it’s worth.”

Wanting to explore, Sam asked, “Do you mind if I look around?”

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Killian shook his head and said, “Might find something you like,” then continued his solitary search through the multiple boxes to sort them for later.

Sam shimmied her way to the opposite end of the room and saw various magical conduits resting on wall mounts. There were rods, enchanted swords, and even a scythe that looked to be made of obsidian on display. The shelves and table below them were bare except for a single tome and broken mana crystals long past their prime. Sam gently opened the tome to peruse the ancient wisdom within but was unable to read the language written in a dark, browning ink. She turned the pages in bulk and noticed that the writing style changed at multiple points, all different authors contributing their thoughts and words.

“What kind of book is this?” asked Sam.

Killian rubbed his hands together to get the dust off of them and went over to Sam. “Well… let’s see.” He read the open page and immediately recognized the tome. “This is a tarnick. You would probably call it a ‘Book of Sins’ in English. It’s a living record of the grudges and ill-wishes towards others by an archdevil family—this one specifically belonging to a family in Clan Charis. They’re enchanted to burst into flames if they get handled improperly, so you might not want to touch it again.”

“Oh.” Sam stepped away from the open tome. “Death by enchanted book,” she declared, moving her hands to make the outline of a tombstone. “Not how I imagined it ending for me.”

“Yeah, those things are always a rough read. If the flames don’t get you then the content will.” He chuckled, then sighed. “I know it all too well since my dad made me translate one as practice in learning our language. I hated it and wouldn’t really mind if all the tarnock burned up.”

Sam grinned at Killian as she brushed his hair to remove some dust. “Is today a sentimental day for you? I’d ask what’s on your mind, but I wouldn’t want to get yelled at again for prying.”

Killian frowned and closed the tome, placing his hand on the cover. “I don’t really mean to get short with you sometimes. My father… taught me all that he knew. I wanted to follow in his footsteps, but it comes at a price—one that I’ve been unable to pay in full.” He tapped the side of his head near at level with his eyes. “The blindfold isn’t just to hide the color, but my shame as well.”

Sam said, “Lucky for you, then. Red is my favorite color.”

Killian looked Sam in the eyes. “It doesn’t bother you?”

“Nope! But I’d like to know what made you resort to blood magic.”

“So, you know about all that… I’m sure you realize it’s only like this because I made the mistake of letting my desire get the best of me. Blood magic is… something that I do—that I did—to prove myself to my dad, to earn a spot in his clan, but…”

Sam nodded with concern. “But?”

Killian shook his head, a bit displeased. “I’m only half as strong as any archdevil—and I didn’t inherit the height. My sister got even less as she doesn’t even have the gift. We’d be seen as dysgenics on Lenoa, hardly better than the clanless, but at least we wouldn’t be slaves… Not like it matters now.”

They both rested on the floor, sitting near each other. Sam asked, “Did your father abandon you because of it?”

“No… I mean… My parents might not get along, and he’s never around, but we still see him on holidays. He’s just… not the same man he was. Not since he became an arbiter.”

“Your father is Arbiter Sid, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Killian said with a deep sigh. “I figured he might’ve told you.”

“Nope. He did let it slip that he had a family once but wouldn’t elaborate. And he also seemed interested in hearing about you whenever I talked about my friends… I obviously had some suspicion—it’s part of why I asked you to teach me in the first place.”

“Well now you know that I’m a reject from my own bloodline. That my parents hate each other, and that I’m not nearly as good at magic as you think I am.” Killian’s eyes began to glow as he gritted his teeth. “Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it’s not his blood, his sin, that also courses through my veins. Am I not worthy in his eyes? To my ancestors? Or am I some genetic failure that isn’t worth the time or effort?”

Sam smiled despite her worry. “I don’t know about all that stuff, Blinds, but to me you’re fine as you are. You’re a good friend and I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t think you were capable.”

The glow left Killian’s eyes as he said, “You say that now, but I know your opinion will change when you join the Arbiters. It’s obvious that you’re better at magic than I’ll ever be… your inexperience is the only thing holding you back.”

“I’m still happy to share these early experiences with you before I join the Arbiters. And there’s more to our friendship than magic. That won’t change just because I’m an arbiter.”

Killian’s voice wavered a bit as he said, “But I wouldn’t be able to trust you anymore.” He then corrected himself. “It’s not like the Arbiters would want someone like you. Especially not someone who can’t make an imp bigger than a squirrel.”

Sam knew that he was only trying to protect his pride and giggled. “Alright, Blinds.” She thought to place her hand on top of his, but instead was reminded of what she wanted to talk about the night before. “I was thinking you could get contacts that change your eye color. You know… if you wanted to go out and do stuff without the blindfold. But I understand it’s a cultural practice—just wasn’t sure how much it mattered to you.”

Killian tilted his head in thought. “I’ll consider it. And yeah, that’s how I get away with it at school.” He scratched his face. “But I really only do it ‘cause I think it looks cool.” He put his blindfold back on and smiled. “Makes me look mysterious, right?”

Sam burst out laughing in response, shaking her head.

“What?” Killian asked with a frown. “Why are you laughing?”

“I just didn’t expect that to be the reason. ‘Mysterious.’ Sure. That’s what it is, yeah.”

Killian took off the blindfold and threw it at Sam. “You wear it then. See how well you get around. That’ll be your next lesson.”

Sam nodded with a happy grin. “Alright, I will. But you’ll have to hold my hand and guide me along the way.”

A slight blush appeared on Killian’s face. It wasn’t normal to touch someone’s hand in devil culture as most interactions were done with the tail. “Fine,” he said. “Just this once.”