Kaibler’s right eye twitched as the faint tinge of ezextial color wafted through the gray billows of smoke. The color was inhuman; an unholy pigment one could best describe as an awkward mix of orange and pink. Only those blessed with sight could see and smell the odor of decayed flesh that trailed it. Lucky us, the young man thought.

His glowing staff decorated his left hand, and he raised it, prepared to disintegrate the leftover demons from his initial attack when the smoke thickened and solidified around him. He heard the blood-piercing cry of wolves and jumped as two sets of purple eyes pierced the smoke. Bloodhounds. I don’t want to get caught in this. He turned and saw three more sets of eyes behind him. His peripheral caught the ignition of another few groups until they surrounded him. He thrust his right hand into his robe, squeezing the book he taped to his chest.

The hounds stalked him, pacing in a steady clockwise pattern as they moved. The smoke caved in and warped around them until Kaibler’s position resembled the eye of a tornado. He bit his lip so hard he drew blood. Not even he could take on these many bloodhounds, yet he didn’t want to summon his pet this early. He’d done it far too much already. He couldn’t dream of living to reach his goals at this rate. It was as if the world understood his grave sacrifice to summon and forced him to do it as much as possible.

No, I’m the greatest warlock in my generation. I can do this without her. Once the hounds pounced, his body moved without permission. Before he could stop himself, he yanked the book off his chest, elevated his staff, and screamed, “Kitsune!”.

An intense voice laughed for only his ears to hear as a spirit consumed the smoke with no warning. The veins in his right arm pulsed a sickly, luminescent green, and blood escaped from his fingertips. The blood curdled in the wind, and unappealing lumps bubbled until they settled in the shape of a fox.

The fox was beautiful, its color a marvel humans had yet named. Perhaps none other than warlocks could even see it. It’s fur sleek and shiny, yet its eyes were ravenous, and the fox’s actions did not betray that. It bull-rushed the hound, which fled and whimpered at its sight, and mauled them with an unhinged jaw. Shark layers of canine teeth tore through each one, but purple mist rose to the sky instead of blood from their injuries.

The sight made Kaibler sick. It always had. He turned away before correcting himself. No. If I’m to complete my ambitions, such views will be familiar. Plus, though he’d never admit it to Kitsune, it didn’t sit right with him to allow the fox demon to bear this burden alone. The responsibility of damning her kin and herself in the process.

The onslaught continued through whimpers and screams. The hellhounds usually sounded like demons but adopted the whimpers of domesticated dogs when cornered. They were only lower-tier demons, yet they possessed the ability for such manipulation. The thought made Kaibler’s blood curl as he considered what other demons awaited him.

Kitsune finished the job and pranced back to him, and her eyes showed no emotion a human could read. The smoke cleared out, revealing the depressing ruins of a once lively town. Sure, there were a few survivors, but Kaibler knew from experience that no home survived an attack like that. Once demons broke the fallacy of safety, the home was no more. As he pondered this, a deep voice called to him from behind.

“Thank you, man. That was amazing.”

Kaibler didn’t respond.

The voice grew louder, and the hairs on Kaibler’s neck rose, feeling the distance between the man and him close.

“You saved us. I’ve never seen a Warlock in person before. I think you guys get a bad rap, man. Please shake my hand. I owe you so much.”

Without facing the man, he knew the words weren’t sincere. The cadence of his footsteps betrayed him. Slow. Methodical. Measured. Those weren’t the sounds of a man relieved to meet his savior but a hunter sizing up its game. He stood there as the steps came closer and closer, even as he could feel their elongated shadows embrace.

Kitsune’s voice rang in his ears. “To your right. Now.”

He dashed two steps to the right as the flash of Kitsune’s fur blazed by him. For a split second, he heard the pained cries of the man behind him. He didn’t have to endure that human cry of despair for long. He never did. Yet those split seconds added up like the loose change of centuries ago used to. He wasn’t sure what his mind believed he could purchase by collecting them, but he felt the weight all the same.

“Yuck. I hate the taste of bad humans. Your species is full of bad actors. Humanity is a collection of tainted and sinful creatures.” Kitsune shook her mane as she spoke. As always, her fur remained flawless through battle, Kaibler was sure she just enjoyed shaking herself.

“Right back at you, demon. Although at least we have the decency not to eat your kind. We just kill them.”

“You vanish them to the purgatory of my home-world. So they can torment my land with war for all eternity.”

“The same thing happens when you eat creatures.”

“I am allowed to defile my land as I see fit. It is mine to do as I wish. You Warlocks make a mockery of all that is holy. As such, you desecrate my land because your victims Heaven nor Hell will recognize them.”

Kitsune’s voice alternated between growls and speech humans could interpret. Kaibler’d heard this spiel enough times to feel in the blanks. His relationship with his pet—who would bite his head off if she knew he thought of her that way—had long become predictable. As his right arm dangled at his side, he knew it’d be useless to subpoena her for sympathy. She’d say he earned it. Humans who steal the magic of the spirits deserve punishment. He also knew right about now she’d remind him of their deal.

“Also, human, do not forget why I humor your requests. It is not out of companionship; you will fulfill your end of the contract.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“With no exceptions. When I tell you what I demand, you will fulfill it with no qualms.”

“It’s hard to guarantee I can do something when I don’t know what’s asked of me. I don’t even know if I’ll have the power to do it.”

“You will. You will have the power by then.” Kitsune’s tail perked up as she walked through the ruins beside him. Kaibler thought she’d be a cute fox if she weren’t a literal demon. Hell, he had to admit she still was, even with that factored in. As far as blood-lusted, upper-tier demonic creatures went, she’d surely win best-groomed pet.

He wished there was a way the two of them could be friends, as stupid as that sounds.

For one, he was a human—no a Warlock—and for two, his kind directly contributed to the destruction of her home. Spirits like her lived peacefully until Warlocks came and vanquished the souls of their enemies to the Realm of Spirits. Kitsune became a demon out of necessity, as only demons could be summoned away from the chaos. Only by tainting her soul could she find peace, even if it were temporary. What type of hell would make you consider maiming demons a peaceful option? He wondered.

That’s why he never rushed to dismiss and return her to the realm of spirits when she completed a mission. It was probably the guilt eating away at him. His right arm burned at the thought. He glanced down and saw the veins still pulsing in it. The green color faded but was still etched within like the dying cinders of a fire.

He tried to hide the pain, but his body physiologically twitched against his will on occasion. Kitsune kept watching him from the corner of her eye. She didn’t miss a beat in her stride, but her muscles were the slightest bit more tensed. Kaibler was too preoccupied to notice. He coughed blood but contained it in his mouth, not allowing it to leave his body and enter the external world. As long as the world didn’t see it, he could pretend it didn’t exist.

Kitsune broke her silence and asked, “Whatever you’re chasing, Warlock, it must be more important than your soul for you to go to such lengths.”

Kaibler shifted through his memories. The good ones, the bad, the memories of despair, and his eyes flashed as he remembered the memories of home. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s worth it for sure.”

Years, decades, and centuries had passed since Birlach last fought in the last great war. In fact, over a decade had passed since he had fought anyone at all. Last several years, he had solely focused on running his school, where he was teaching his many apprentices. Initially, he had intended to leave the teacher role and go deep into the mystical arts to learn as much as he could, but when he got the chance to take over the school he once studied at under the great magician Ólafur, he couldn't refuse.

This story began during the first Era, around 200 years after the battle of Kadesh, where Birlach played a central part. One sunny morning during a particularly warm spring, he was sitting in his outside office working. Suddenly a colossal crash could be heard from the castle where his school was located. Within seconds Birlach was up on his feet, running towards the school. When he approached the grand gate at the front of the school, he could see smoke coming from one of the windows on the east side and many apprentices welling out from the castle.

“What in Odin’s name was that?” Birlach asked the first apprentice he got to. “Someone managed to blow up the laboratory, sir,” the apprentice answered. “Do you know who it was?” “Sadly, I do not, but I believe I heard Babish talking about him having been on that floor when it happened,” they answered and pointed toward one of the apprentices standing in a ring closer to the school.

Birlach approached the person they had pointed out and started inquiring for more information. It turned out that the apprentice at fault was Brynjol, a student Birlach knew who had a history of messing around with stuff he shouldn't. At that exact moment, like magic, Brynjol walked out through the gates while the other apprentices looked at him. Apparently, the rumor of the source of the ruckus had spread fast. Birlach waved to him and asked him to come over.

The two of them took a walk around the small lake that was situated by the school. “What exactly happened?” Birlach asked. “I am so sorry, Sir. I just wanted to test some of this new battle magic I found in an old scroll. I know I'm not supposed to.” Brynjol responded. “Most certainly, you are not. You know this. This is the 5th time you blow up a whole room because you were testing some old battle magic.” Birlach said back. “This is the last time. You knew this was your last chance.” “BUT, SIR! You have to give me another chance. Please…” Brynjol screamed back.

Birlach did not give him another chance. He packed his bags the next day and was out of the castle before lunch. From his residence in the southeast corner tower, Birlach watched as Brynjol walked down the path through the trees and away from the school. “I have a feeling… That was not the last time I saw him”.

Seasons, semesters, and decades passed. Two whole decades had passed since that spring day that Birlach expelled Brynjol. They had not met each other all that time, but they had heard of each other. Birlach had kept teaching at his school, and Brynjol had dwelled further down into the many scrolls about ancient battle magic. A morning that wasn't far from that spring morning twenty years ago that all changed.

Birlach was sitting in his new office in his school's newly created south annex. Suddenly the door to the room flew open, and in walked a face he had not seen in many years. It was Brynjol. “Hello, Brynjol. What can I do for you?” Birlach asked him. “How dare you speak to me, you old old weak sad excuse of an archmage.” was all that Brynjol said in response. “Oh… here for revenge, are we?” Birlach asked him. “You bet your arse I am. I am going to kill you.” “No… You are not.” Birlach said and stood up from his chair. With a snap of his fingers, Brynjol was now kneeling over, screaming with pain.

“BUT HOW?! All these years… how are you still stronger than me?” Brynjol asked in disbelief. “I don’t think you get it,” the archmage said to his traitorous student. “I didn’t give up the sword because I am only good at magic or frail and weak. In fact, I was too good at it, and that bored me.”

This is the first time I write something for r/writingprompts. I kinda like some of the parts of this story. Might add it to the bigger universe I am writing.

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As I sat in my dark, candle-lit study, I traced my finger over the intricate symbols etched into the pages of my ancient grimoire. The demon whispered in my ear, urging me to complete the summoning ritual.

I took a deep breath and began the chant, my voice low and steady. The room grew colder as the energy of the demon's plane seeped into mine. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew out the candles, and the room was plunged into darkness.

"I am here," a deep, guttural voice boomed.

I stood, my heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. "Demon, I have summoned you as agreed upon in our pact," I said, shaking slightly.

The demon chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "Yes, warlock. And I have come to offer you a proposition."

I raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposition?"

The demon's eyes glowed red in the darkness. "I am a lord of a great and powerful demon army, locked in an endless war on my home plane. I seek allies to help us turn the tide in our favor."

I hesitated. "And what do you offer in return?"

The demon's eyes narrowed. "Power, warlock. Power beyond your wildest dreams. But be warned, the price of my aid will be steep."

I weighed the demon's offer in my mind. On the one hand, the prospect of gaining unimaginable power was tempting. Conversely, the cost of making a pact with a demon was always high.

But as I thought about it, I realized that the demon's plight touched a chord within me. The idea of being able to help end the suffering of countless monsters trapped in a never-ending war was too much to resist.

I made my decision. "I accept your offer, demon. What do you need from me?"

The demon's smile was sly. "I need you to help me gather a group of powerful fighters. Mythic machine guns and knives and swords will do. Together, we will strike at the heart of our enemies and end this war once and for all."

I nodded, my determination steeled. "Consider it done, demon. I will do everything in my power to help bring an end to this war."

The demon nodded, its eyes shining with approval. "Then our pact is sealed, warlock. Let us go forth and bring about a new era of peace and prosperity for all demonkind."

As I set out to gather the powerful fighters I had promised the demon, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease in my stomach. The cost of making a pact with a devil was always high, and I knew I would have to pay a heavy price for their aid.

But the thought of being able to help end the suffering of countless demons trapped in a never-ending war was too great a temptation to resist. I would do whatever it took to bring about a new era of peace and prosperity for all demonkind.

I traveled far and wide, searching for those who possessed the skills and power I needed. I found a group of skilled warriors, each unique wielding weapons - from mythic machine guns to knives and swords.

We set out for the demon's home plane, ready to battle against their enemies. The fighting was fierce and intense, but with the demon's help, we were able to turn the tide in our favor.

In the end, we emerged victorious, and

The demon approached me with a sly smile as we celebrated our victory. "Our pact is now fulfilled, warlock. But know I will always be watching, waiting for the moment I can call upon you again."

I nodded, knowing that the cost of our pact would always be with me. But I also knew that it had been worth it to bring peace to the demon's home plane. And who knows, perhaps I would be called upon to serve again for the greater good.

As we parted ways, I couldn't help but wonder what the future held for me. Would I resist the temptation of making another pact with a demon? Or would I succumb to the lure of power and make a deal that could cost me everything?

Only time will tell. But for now, I was content knowing that I had helped end a long and brutal war and brought peace and prosperity to the demon's home plane.

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