Saithorthepyro
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Chapter 37 - Knock Knock Knockin on Hell's Door
🕑 Added 2024-07-24 16:00:19 +0000 UTCMy chisel cut into stone, slicing through the quartz with difficulty as I tapped it slightly with the hammer. Bits of the crystal flaked as the diamond head of the chisel carved out a curving path, forming the basis for the circle.
The stone room I was in had an entire sheet of crystal covering the floor and little else, only a single metal door that led to the Black Flame hideout. I’d brought several lanterns inside, hanging them around the room to give enough light.
I wiped some sweat off my brow, both from how hard it was to carve and the tension of knowing even a small mistake could lead to my death. Quartz was one of the few materials that could channel the energies we needed without breaking, but also flaked when you applied force with the right tools. Such as the diamond-tipped chisel in my hand.
I wished I could use wood, paper, or even candle wax, but knowing the amount of power that would come through the other side, they’d burst alight or explode the moment I activated the circle.
The Imp was still sleeping, which, as much as I hated to admit it, was an issue. I’d need him to check over my work and make sure I’d drawn this all correctly. Also, working with only one eye was very different from two.
Or we could just risk all dying a horrible and perverse death. Knowing the demon who’d been responsible for my birth, that was probably the case.
My mother had been very insistent on him being the perfect gentleman during their time together, although I had my doubts about how truthful that all was. She’s hidden things from me like all parents do with their children.
Unfortunately, thanks to a very large amount of alcohol one evening, I’d gotten an entire earful of things involving the two of them I wanted to hear even less than the series of torturous deaths he’d inflicted on people while on the mortal plane.
I shuddered at the memory, trying to banish those thoughts from my mind. All it did was draw the attention of the only other person in the room.
Versalicci’s lecture for Melissa had not taken long since she’d shown up right after. Versalicci had assigned her to watch over me as I worked and, mostly, had not distracted me too much from chiseling the quartz.
At least she seemed determined to get back in my good graces. Versalicci probably hadn’t told her I was not a member of the Black Flame any more.
It took about ten minutes into carving the diagram for the first question to come.
“So…you’re trying to summon the boss’ father?”
“No,’ I said, etching out a groove into the stonework. “Even if I had enough power to, summoning a duke of the hells would be a death sentence for all of us the moment the seals broke. To bring him through, we’d either need an entire team of Diabolists working in unison, all of them with ten times my experience. That or a lot of sacrifices to bridge that grip, and even if I was alright with that, we’d not have enough.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “Well, you aren’t in charge, and it’s not like this city is lacking in people who deserve to die, so how many would we need?”
“Two-thirds of the city’s population, give or take a few thousand.”
Almost a minute of chiseling passed before Melissa regained her voice. I finished the inner circle and started on the lines linking the two.
“You’re---you’re joking,” she said weakly. “That’s…must be millions of people.”
“5.815 million,” I said. “You might bridge that a little with some people being significant enough to count for ten or a hundred souls, maybe even a few thousand with some of them, but it doesn’t adjust the math too much. I suppose if you could capture Her Majesty and bring her here, that might be a significant enough sacrifice, but I wouldn’t recommend that. Too likely to bring through Her Most Profane Majesty instead?”
“How?” she muttered, seeming lost.
“Close, personal connection. Our current queen killed Her Most Profane Majesty, and that leaves marks in the world. Marks that our former queen could use to pull herself out of hell instead of the intended devil.”
“No, I meant, how could it take this many souls? Surely it can’t be this hard to summon the Duke if he’s your and the boss’ father.”
“They summoned parts of him. Little chunks keeping his full consciousness, but nowhere near his power. If he had been here in his full form when he’d conceived the both of us, we wouldn’t be Infernals. And before you ask, the reason we aren’t summoning a piece is any manageable piece would be too powerful for the government not to notice and also not strong enough to handle the problems that would cause. We are just going to knock on his door instead and see if he’s willing to talk to us through a window.”
And hope that talking was all he wanted to do.
“To think the boss’ father is that powerful,” Melissa mused to herself.
“He’s not that powerful,” I said. “Relative to the demons that make their way here? Yes, if only because one of the thirteen kings would probably cause reality to break apart on a local level if they came through. And they’re just the rulers of our hell.”
Hell was, as far as anyone could tell, infinite, and the only thing known for certain was that parts of it were linked to parts of the material plane. The thirteen kings were rulers of the part linked to this geographic region.
Mind you, thinking of entities more powerful than them existing did not do anyone any good. If such entities broke through, everyone was already dead.
The silence stretched on as I finished the circles and their connecting lines, now working on the runes drawn in between. I stopped occasionally, consulting the book I’d gotten from Versalicci. Five years on, my memory of the ritual circle was still quite good but no need to take any risks.
Versalicci was fetching the ingredients for the ritual itself, leaving me to finish this. I worked on the symbols, cutting intricate patterns into the stone.
By the time I finished, it must have been a couple of hours later as I carved the last symbol into place. I didn’t know how much time had passed as I examined each symbol and compared them to the books. I’d added more, extending the number of circles to add them in. Further tightening of the hole I was about to drill through reality.
Versalicci still wasn’t here.
I turned my attention to Melissa. “You don’t have the talent, do you?”
That flustered her, although she’d been fidgeting since our earlier conversation ended.
“Why would you think that?”
I sat down across the Quartz from her. “Versalicci loves his tests, loves his little lies and intrigues. You didn’t know I was his sister. I doubt you knew I was a diabolist. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bothered beating me up. But most importantly, because I can’t think of another reason to have you in here except to watch this in practice.”
“Or he sent me in here to monitor you,” she replied.
“There will be watchers keeping an eye through the walls like during our ‘private’ conversation. If you have it or not, there is one universal piece of advice all Diabolists would be served by learning. Don’t.”
As if on cue, the door opened, Versalicci entering with reagents piled high.
Definitely on cue. I was being watched.
“Ah, sister, busy terrorizing one of my employees? Melissa, you can go back to your regular duties.”
The other infernal left, shutting the door behind her while Versalicci put the reagents on the floor.
“I’ll need the Imp awake to check on this. Which means another cow,” I said.
“Hungry little demon, isn’t he?” Versalicci said, and at the same time, a familiar voice spoke in my mind.
First her and now you with putting me to sleep! The Imp howled inside my head. Demons do not sleep, cast-off of my lord! Do you know how strange it feels?
“I’ve had a few others complain to me about it. Honestly, I believe more sleep will do you all some good. Sister?”
“Check the circle, Imp. Make sure everything is in place while I check the reagents. I’ll eat another cow.”
The various reagents were mostly related to the diabolic, that and a few vials of blood as a sacrifice. Less messy and difficult than trying to cut a goat’s throat in the middle of this. Too much chance it would damage the circle.
“How fresh is this?” I asked, eyeing a curved claw in the shape of a sickle.
“How fresh do you think, sister? Demons aren’t common. Trade in their reagents is rare, and I don’t have anyone I trust to summon anyone in demons, even if they are just Scraelings.”
The truth, my instinct told me, till I squeezed on the claw. Liar. Scraeling claws degraded the moment you cut them off. It would have crumbled in my fingers if it was older than three years.
Just another reminder to never trust my instincts around him.
“The array is bigger than it was in the past,” Versalicci noted, looking at the symbols.
She’s added more in the way of bindings and safeguards, the Imp said. Progeny or no, my master will not take kindly to the amount of bindings related to constraining lust you have added. But the circle itself has no mistakes.
“Too bad. My circle, my bindings. Unless you object to him being more focused than he would normally be?”
Versalicci raised an eyebrow. “It’s never been a problem before. I don’t see the point is all.”
His cognition will function regardless of your shackling of him!
“I didn’t know how dangerous this was before,” I said back. “I want as little risk as possible that parts of him leak through the barrier, especially when it’s you and me alone in here.”
“An unfounded concern, but I’ll not question this. Is it ready, then?”
I finished looking through the materials he’d brought. Everything seemed in place. I would not ask for the source of the blood and some of the other reagents. Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.
“It is. I’m assuming you’ve warded this place to contain Diabolic traces?”
It wouldn’t do to light a beacon for the Imperial government if only because they’d be here before I could escape. Except for my actions at Lady Karsin’s estate, nothing I’d done up till now would be large enough for them to detect. This, though, opening a window to a Duke of the Hells, no matter how small, would have an immediate response.
I put the various pieces in their places, the vials of blood in one hand.
“Let me peer in here, make sure the room is safe to do this in,” I said.
“Shouldn’t you have done that first? And I can already tell you, nothing in here that will interfere with a little communication ritual.
I ignored him, instead taking a breath and closing my one eye.
I hadn’t wanted to do this, but trying to do this blind would be insanity. I opened my eye, peering into the arcane.
Ten corpses lay across the quartz, none of them Infernals, all twitching and jerking. They’d all been tortured, with shallow knife wounds in non-vital areas, and blood leaking all across the ritual circle.
Huh, this wasn’t as bad as I thought.
Traces of blood crawled all over the room, clinging to walls and floor in humanoid shapes. Echoes of the past, murder after torture. At the far end of the room one was more defined, a roiling shape made of blood and little scraps of flesh, lying down, waiting.
A spirit waiting to be born, and not a pleasant one.
I put more diabolism into the quartz, enough in case the nascent spirit interfered. I didn’t have a quarrel with it. Hells, if Versalicci was unaware of the forming creature made from the people he’d killed in here, I wouldn’t provide him any hints.
A quick scan of the room showed no other signs of spirits. A stone spirit would come through during the ritual, but the ritual would keep them away.
Spirits would instinctively know what it was. And if a spirit came in here that wouldn’t shy away from a Duke of the Hells, I couldn’t stop it regardless.
Diabolism came at my call, aided by the Imp. Bits of shadow came at my call, forming into a chisel that I set on the quartz’s mirror self.
I tapped once, twice, thrice, each time sending flakes flying and a crack developing in the structure. Not enough to break, but enough to let things flit past.
The various reagents burst alight, flames eating at them as something strained against the crack. The quartz shuddered.
“Your blood calls on you, Duke of the Hells,” I said, crushing the vials in my hand. Shards of glass cut into my finger but then closed themselves right after.
The blood flew for the center of the quartz, going through the hairline fracture and beyond. It burrowed in, going past the spirits of the dead still lingering in this room.
A second later, those vanished. The nascent spirit formed out of blood stilled. I closed the eye, then reopened it, closing my view of the arcane.
The quartz breathed, shifting up and down like someone’s lung, a crack forming in the center here in the material, traveling across the middle.
Only to stop at the innermost circle in any direction.
Versalicci whistled as he walked the outer breadth of the circle, looking down at the crack. It widened, only to stop as I put my hand on the outermost circle. The entire array lit up, red traveling down the lines and into the crack.
The quartz shuddered again, but the crack stopped trying to move. Instead, something slipped out.
Reeking of sulfur, it pushed out past the crack, forming into a cloud of red and yellow particles between me and Versalicci, six dark crimson cores forming in the middle of it.
Mast- The Imp tried to say only for it to choke on its words.
I kept my hands on the circle, even as the surrounding air heated up. The cloud turned four of the cores towards Versalicci, and two towards me. Versalicci said something, but I could not hear, the inside of my ears like furnaces. Father kept the conversation private. Instead, I kept my hands on the circle, even as the quartz heated.
By now, the center boiled, a sea of liquid quartz. I didn’t see what lay beyond, closing my eyes. My hands burned as the quartz beneath them heated. My lungs burned, the air itself scorching them. Something wet trickled from my ears and eye, but I kept my hands on the circle.
The cloud plunged into the boiling center, disappearing as the quartz stopped bubbling. I didn’t let go until Versalicci came over, nudging me.
“He’s gone.”
I lifted blistered hands from the quartz, and tried to get up and say something. Instead, I fell.
Versalicci dragged me off the quartz before it could burn me, then sat down beside me.
“This was supposed to be a lesson. He’s angrier with you than I am, so he meted out punishment. Here, drink.”
Not having any ability to refuse Versalicci, I took a few swallows of the bottle he passed and immediately felt better. I sat up, looking at the still-melted center of the quartz square.
“I believe that settles our business here,” I said, mouth still dry. “I think it’s time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain?”
I kept a wary eye on Versalicci, hand still grasping diabolic tethers to the Quartz. If he’d only kept me alive to contact our father, now would be the perfect time to kill me. Of course, the moment he gave a hint that way, I’d finish breaking a hole into the wall between planes. I’d wager whatever demonic entities crawled through would eat him before the Imperial Government came here to seal it back up.
“That it is,” Versalicci agreed, leaning against the door. “Let’s have it here, if you’re going to hold that gate hostage.”
Comments
gostsamo
> That or a lot of sacrifices to bridge that grip, should be "gap", I think > Diabolism came at my call, aided by the Imp. Bits of shadow came at my call, forming into a chisel repeated "my call" > The quartz breathed, shifting up and down like someone’s lung, a crack forming in the center here check for repetitions of "crack", "cyrcle", and "quartz" in the paragraphs below this
