A Demon's Contract
Page 1
Copyright
Dedications
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
Coming Soon!
About the Author
Preview
Copyright
© 2017 Delmire Hart. All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This is a work of fiction. All resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers.
Please don't read if you are under eighteen.
For inquiries please contact: delmire.hart@outlook.com
Dedications
Thank you to Susana and Deenita for giving feedback as I wrote this and encouraging me to keep going <3
And massive shout out to Arctic Shadow for editing this <3
A Demon’s Contract
How Long Is Forever Book 1
By Delmire Hart
Chapter One
The city of Loria should have impressed Barkley more than it did. Perhaps if he had first laid eyes on it a few years ago, when he was still filled with the fresh enthusiasm of youth, he would have had a different reaction. As it was, the pristine cobble streets and clean citizens only drew a frown. War had torn apart his village and the countryside surrounding it, so to see people carrying on about their lives virtually untouched felt unfair somehow.
He would never wish such strife on anyone but that did not stop him from feeling betrayed. How many times had their village cast their pleas upon the army and the capital? No wonder no response ever came. The leaders of their kingdom were so far removed from the ravages of war that they could not understand why they begged for help.
Leaving the city gates behind, Barkley strode further into the streets. Each glance around only reinforced his feeling of bitterness. Beautiful cobblestone streets, clean pathways, and sturdy wooden and brick buildings surrounded him. Businesses flourished while clean, well-dressed citizens swanned around, going about their days as though it was the golden age of peace. Food was plentiful and there were no hollow-eyed beggars to be seen.
The longer Barkley looked, the more bitter he felt.
War with the Quathian Empire had left the peaceful farming villages on the kingdom’s border torn asunder. Houses sat destroyed and empty, entire fields had been set ablaze and left to grow fallow, and the people lived in fear of the next raid. Everyone had lost a friend or family member or neighbour.
The image of his broken home overlaid the view before him and Barkley had to close his eyes to banish the vision. It was no fault of the people here that they lived so close to the capital and the war had not yet touched them. The food shortages would come about soon enough if the war wasn’t halted and the peaceful vision before him would change.
Which was why he had travelled so far to Loria, wearing right through the soles of his sturdiest shoes. He had been far from the only traveller on the road, with vast numbers of people fleeing south to find refuge from the violence closer to the capital. The number of travellers might even seem normal but for the lack of merchants and wagons on the road. The army had swept through the countryside demanding horses for their warriors and mules for their transports to prepare for the war, leaving little behind in the way of payment.
Glancing about, Barkley noted that even here everyone was travelling on foot, not a wagon or carriage in sight. Perhaps he had been overly harsh in his first judgement and the war had touched Loria; just, not as strongly as it had those closer to the border. After shifting the pack on his shoulders to sit more comfortably, Barkley set off further into the city.
His destination loomed above the city, its shining marble towers visible from every street. The structure of the white castle made it seem as though it was battling the very sky for dominance of the beholders view, its thin spires tipped by dancing clouds. It should be an impressive, breathtaking view, but all Barkley could think about were the enemy mages setting their fields alight with a magical fire that ravaged all in its path, ignoring even the rain.
Years ago two mages from this academy had visited their small farming community to test the children for a spark of magic. Not one had been found for miles around; in fact, the mages had admitted that they weren’t likely to find even one on their travels through the farming communities of Rilia. But the lack of inherent magic wasn’t about to stop Barkley from his self-appointed quest.
He would travel to the mage academy and contract a demon like the stories of old to stop the war and save his family.
It sounded so very simple, but he was acutely aware of how deceiving that was. Legend said that humans never used to have the spark of magic that allowed wondrous feats to be performed. Their magic had always come from a different source: demons. There were locations hidden about the human lands where the demon plane was accessible, allowing the inhabitants of both sides to cross between the two planes. Demons were said to be practically made of magic and all the old legends told of great sacrifices where heroes gave everything to forge a contract with a powerful demon.
Nowadays the tears in the fabric of the human realm were jealously guarded, and only those approved by one of the various mage academies could hope to enter the demon realm. The Rilian Mage Academy looming beautifully above the city of Loria was built upon such a tear. Barkley was almost certain it would be harder to get into the academy than it would be to contract a demon. Only those with a magic spark were allowed to become mages now and he had no magic to speak of. Demons, on the other hand, were said to live a long time and often forged contracts with humans just to satiate their boredom as long as they were offered something they found satisfactory in exchange.
Barkley had nothing to offer a demon but himself.
Yet, the spark of hope still flickered inside of him. He loved all the old legends and knew many of them by heart. Not one hero featured in the tales had anything other than themselves to offer, yet they had still contracted demons to perform powerful feats of magic for them. Wars were said to have been won or lost off the work of demons alone.
As he strode through the streets, the bright façade that had been presented at the gates began to show its cracks. Beggars in dirty clothing sat on street corners and could be glimpsed huddled in groups in dark alleys. The further into the depths of the c
ity he ventured, the larger the cracks grew. Upon reaching the city center, and what should be a bustling marketplace, Barkley found vast numbers of hollow-eyed refugees. They sat in groups with thin, dirty blankets and makeshift shelters while the townsfolk strode past with eyes cast aside.
Perhaps he had unknowingly entered through the rich business district where people could afford to pretend to be unaffected. Although, even the poorer inhabitants of the city seemed to have closed their eyes to the future. It wouldn’t last much longer, that was certain. You didn’t have to be in the army to see that the Quathian Empire was pushing further and further into Rilian territory with every passing week.
The thought sparked a renewal of speed into his steps. Barkley was here to end this war as soon as he could and he was close to the first step in his plan. The gleaming white towers loomed larger and larger as he wound through cobblestone streets, using the building as a guide. Finally, Barkley stood before intricate wrought iron gates connected to equally intricate walls. The beauty of the iron was deceiving for as he looked closer the sharp spikes sitting atop the walls became obvious. Two guards stood on either side of the gate, decked out in full plate armour with long spears in one hand and a shield in the other. A large sign was affixed to the wall beside one of them.
‘Petitions open at noon’
Barkley wondered how many of the people loitering around the gates could read. He was mostly self-taught, with the help of the odd traveller who stopped over in their village. His parents had despaired at him learning what they thought of as a useless skill, but he loved perusing the wrinkled pages of his precious books and immersing himself in the old legends. All the money he had earned doing odd jobs around the village had gone into purchasing the four books tucked away in his rucksack. They were his greatest treasures and made up most of the load he carried, along with what little rations he had left and a few extra items of clothing.
The low position of the morning sun told Barkley that he had a few hours to wait yet so he settled down on the side of the road near where a few others sat, obviously waiting for noon as well. Few townsfolk seemed to travel the road in front of the academy, as Barkley could count on one hand the people who passed by without stopping to wait. By the time the sun stood at its zenith, a crowd had formed at the gates.
The surrounding press of people shifted forward and Barkley rose to his feet in time to see what caused the movement. A man with dark hair dusted with silver at the temples approached the gates from the inside, long robes swishing about his feet as he walked. Beside him a large wooden table floated in the air, the cause most likely the strange creature flying above the man’s shoulder. It was a red-brown in colour, with short limbs sticking out from a small body. Long leathery wings held it aloft in the air and beady black eyes sat in a small pointed face. The demon was about the size of a small dog and looked about its surroundings with an air of boredom.
The gates swung open at the wave of the mage’s hand and the crowd shuffled into a line in front of where the large desk was placed. Task complete, the demon blinked out of existence with a small pop and it was only then that Barkley noticed a wooden chair had been floating behind the desk. The mage set a satchel down before taking a seat. A few pages of paper were set carefully on the desk, soon joined by a quill and a small jar no doubt full of ink for writing.
“Next!” the man called and the first person in line stepped forward to speak with him in hushed tones.
Barkley finally moved to take his place at the rear of the line. As he waited, he noticed not one person present was ushered through the still open gates behind the mage, and many seemed to be turned away with heads hanging low.
“Next!”
Striding forward determinedly, Barkley put his focus on his posture. His father had always said you could get further in life if you presented yourself confidently; shoulders back, chin up, back straight, and clear voice.
“State your business.” The mage seemed almost bored now as he pursued the papers in front of him, not even bothering to look up as Barkley stopped in front of his desk.
“I want to contract a demon.”
That got a reaction. The mage stopped what he was doing to cast his eyes over the young man. Barkley knew what he would see: his lanky frame made more pronounced by hunger, his brown hair darker with dirt from the road, and his face streaked with even more grime. His clothes had seen hard leagues of travel and his shoes were barely held together with the last few strands of leather that had not yet succumbed to wear. The mage raised his hand, his palm out flat in front of him towards Barkley, and it danced with faint purple runes as he muttered what must be a spell under his breath.
“You have no magic to speak of,” he stated dismissively as he lowered his hand, his attention visibly shifting back to his papers. “I’m afraid you cannot join the academy.”
“Pardon, Sir,” Barkley said, forcing his tone to be as polite as possible, “but I said I wanted to contract a demon, not join the academy.”
“They are the same,” the man replied, impatience creeping into his voice as he glanced up again.
“Demons do not need me to have magic to forge a contract. I do not wish to become a mage, only to have the chance to contract a demon. I can read and write and will take on any test required of me, but this is the only demon portal in Rilia. I cannot go anywhere else.”
The mage looked him over for a long moment before shaking his head. Disappointment flooded through Barkley, but he held his tongue as he was dismissed again. Walking back to the square with the refugees, he set his shoulders and renewed his determination.
He would sit outside the gleaming white castle for as many days as it took to be allowed inside. There was a war raging not far outside the city gates, and it crept closer every day. He might be a weak human with no abilities of his own but he would do everything he could to save his remaining family. And with the Quathian army filled with mages and their contracted demons, he needed his own demon to even have a chance at fighting them.
Chapter Two
“You again.”
“Me again,” Barkley agreed as he stopped in front of the mage’s desk just like he had every day for the past eight days. “I want to contract a demon.”
The mage who appeared at the gate to the academy at noon was the same one each day, and while he had dismissed Barkley immediately the first few days, he took longer to do so each day. There was a note of resignation in the mage's voice today that hadn’t been there previously.
“And if I dismiss you today, you’ll be back again tomorrow, won’t you?”
“Of course. And the day after that, and so on, as long as it takes,” Barkley replied brightly. He shot the mage a winning smile, earning himself a sigh in return.
“Alright, so tell me. Why do you want to contract a demon?”
The question sent hope soaring through Barkley and he struggled to force it down. The last thing he needed was to get his hopes up now when he could easily be turned away yet again. Still, this was progress.
“My village is on the border we share with the Quathian Empire.” The mage flinched at his words, the implication not lost on him. “I would do anything to save my family.”
“Then join the army,” the mage argued, but he looked thoughtful and his tone wasn’t as dismissive as it had been before.
“Our fields and forests were burned with fires that burned strongly, even through the rain, and they left the earth beneath damaged as though it had been salted. No sword is going to win against the contracted magic of the Quathian army.”
“So you want to fight fire with fire,” the mage muttered as he glanced over Barkley again. “What makes you think you can even forge a contract with a demon? You don’t have the magic spark that draws a demon’s attention.”
“I don’t,” he replied simply. He stared at the mage before him steadily, determination burning through every fibre of his being. “But history is full of people without magic of their own who have con
tracted demons. I only want the chance to try for myself. I would give anything to protect my family.”
“Nothing but legends and stories… but then, much has been lost over the years.” The last statement was muttered as though the mage was unaware he had been speaking aloud before he waved at the guard to his left. “Go sit over there. I’ll take you to the headmaster once I’m finished here and he can decide what to do with you.”
Barkley grinned triumphantly and all but ran over to the spot indicated. He sat at the guard’s feet, knees drawn up to his chest, while he waited for the mage to clear the rest of the line in front of him. It didn’t take long for the line to disappear as Barkley had been near the back. He stood when the mage did.
The small demon blinked into existence at a word from the mage and lazily waved his gnarled hands around muttering under his breath. The mage had barely finished gathering his belongings when the table began to float away, and he cast the demon a disgruntled glance but said nothing as he gestured Barkley forward.
“What’s your name?”
“Barkley,” he replied as he watched the small demon whizz the desk too close to the guard on its way through the gates, causing the man to flinch. The magical creature cackled, its sharp pointed teeth glinting in the light as Barkley stared curiously at it.
“Maxwell Hamilton,” the mage sighed as he flicked at the demon in annoyance. “Behave.”
The flying creature only laughed louder and zipped ahead, his leathery wings flapping noisily as he flew the desk and chair down the long path leading to the sparkling castle. Maxwell sighed again as he gestured with his hand for the gates to close seemingly on their own.
“I wouldn’t have thought magic would be used for such things,” Barkley ventured, glancing between the mage and his demon.
“Nowadays magic is mostly used for the mundane.”
Maxwell turned to wave the young man forward before falling in step with him as they strode up the path. Green grass lined the broad stone path. Trees dotted along it periodically as they got closer to the building. The wrought iron walls had hidden most of the sight from view, and Barkley had not paid attention to what was behind the gate. Not when the dazzling white spires above them held one’s eye. The tall trees were not ones he had ever seen before, and their branches were all moulded so that the trees became fanciful decorations. It was a beautiful sight, but one that did not impress in light of the state of the world outside the gates.