by Delmire Hart
Barkley turned back to Maria to explain why there was a demon on his bed when he realised that it was to be expected. Not that he had taken over his small bed, but more that he had a contracted demon. That was the entire reason he was here after all. Cursing Zaxor for leaving him off balance, Barkley cast about the room for his new robes. Maria probably didn’t appreciate him answering the door shirtless.
A gasp from behind him as he located his robe caused him to turn. Both girls stared at him, eyes wide and mouths agape in surprise. He took a moment to realise they must have seen the massive picture that decorated his back. A quick glance at Zaxor showed the demon looking far too self-satisfied. The picture was stunning, but what little he knew of the demon so far suggested that such a large depiction was unnecessary. It was probably mostly ego.
Zaxor had vanished by the time Barkley had pulled the thin robe over his head and he quickly left the room to follow the two girls. Maria didn’t introduce her companion, and Barkley hung back as they walked through the maze of castle corridors. The girls whispered between themselves and occasionally glanced back to stare at Barkley. This was all Zaxor’s fault, it had to be. He had forged a contract with a different type of demon than anyone else had, and said demon had marked his ownership over his soul in a most spectacular fashion.
No wonder people were already starting to gossip. Barkley held back a sigh, feeling a headache building in his temples. This was all going to be worth it once he could stop this stupid war, but in the meantime, he could do without the petty distractions.
By the time they reached their destination, Barkley was well and truly lost. The castle was a warren of corridors, staircases, and doorways, dashing any hope of learning his way around. Not that it mattered, as he had learned Maria was assigned to guide him around until he didn’t get lost, but Barkley was here to get his mage license, not make friends. So far everyone had been keeping their distance from him and he planned to keep it that way.
“So you must be our new student.”
Barkley looked up as he walked through a plain wooden doorway. As far as he could tell, there was nothing to mark this room apart from the ones next to it. The inside was filled with single wooden desks and chairs lined up in neat rows. A handful of people idled about, mostly young adults like Barkley, but a severe-looking middle-aged woman stood before a large desk positioned at the front of the room. It was she who had spoken, clearly addressing Barkley. She held out a small leather-bound book like one Maria carried.
“I’m Barkley,” he replied with a respectful bob of his head.
Accepting the book with a polite ‘thank you’, he flicked through the pages only to find them blank. Next, a quill and ink pot were held out, answering his question about what the book was for. Him, apparently.
“Lucille Brook, I’m one of the teachers here at the Academy. That book is for you to take notes and write down all the knowledge you will need to remember to become a mage. I would suggest you keep your writing neat and small so as not to be wasteful. We have magical means of creating paper here, but it’s still a lengthy process, and we must share our resources between all who live here. I can see that the rumours were correct in that you have no latent magical ability.”
Barkley nodded but said nothing. He took the moment to look over his new teacher instead. Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her robes, while still plain, were of a much finer quality than his. The sense of sternness and severity about her made Barkley assume she would be a strict teacher. That was good, he wasn’t there to play around.
“Before you choose a seat, I want to ask: why did you contract a demon?”
“I want to stop the war,” Barkley replied simply.
A snort and a few derisive mutters from his classmates caught his attention, but no one spoke loudly enough to interrupt. It might seem like a stupid, impossible task to some, but that would not stop him from doing everything in his power to save his family.
Lucille nodded after a moment. “You come from the border?” she guessed, her face softening in understanding when Barkley nodded. “A rather optimistic ideal, but admirable. I don’t discriminate between my students; you are here to learn, not be burdened by petty in-house politics. But be aware that not everyone here has the same broad view as I do. Now, take a seat and we’ll get class started.”
Chapter Seven
Barkley purposefully chose a desk right at the back of the room, avoiding the small clusters of people sitting in groups. Lucille, he soon learnt, taught magical theory and high level applied alchemy. His little notebook sat blank as he stared uncomprehendingly at the teacher. She paced back and forth at the front of the class, explaining some theory of magical currents, and Barkley was completely lost. Of the handful of other students listening to the lecture, only two seemed to follow enough to bother taking notes. It would be funny if it wasn’t for the fact that Lucille was so passionate on the subject. Instead, her sheer enthusiasm only made Barkley feel bad he couldn’t follow along.
“Did you have any other ideas on how to stop the war?”
Barkley started, then turned to find Zaxor reclining at the previously empty desk next to him. He had spoken at normal volume, his voice interrupting Lucille’s flow of speech, and he was acutely aware of everyone’s stares. Not that Zaxor seemed to care, judging by his almost flippant tone.
“Because this so-called ‘academy’ is shaping up to be nothing but a farce, the barest fragment of its earlier prestige. Not accepting humans without magic,” Zaxor snorted, showing what he thought of that idea. “Seeking out only the lowest of demons to contract. Teaching incorrect theories and lauding the work of self-important scholars that know nothing about their field of study other than the name. What of Marigold Church? I remember little from my last time in the human realm, I don’t care for the theories of magical law for this world, but Marigold Church was a forerunner of her time. She studied the flow of magic and had made many advancements towards understanding the human realm. Yet, not once has she been mentioned so far. Instead, young mages are taught nonsensical drivel written by this Hubert Ward? Ludicrous.”
Stunned silence followed Zaxor’s rant, Barkley among the speechless. A glance to the front of the room showed an odd expression on Lucille’s face. There was surprise, but no anger or irritation like Barkley expected. Instead there was something akin to sadness there.
“Marigold Church’s studies have been denounced by the Circle. Most of her works were burned long before my time, and those few that remain are well hidden in people’s private collections. Hubert Ward is an esteemed mage based in the Runswick Academy up north.” Lucille’s words were polite but clipped, all signs of earlier distress hidden behind an air of impatience. “It is his research that is considered the most advanced of our time.”
“’Considered the most advanced’,” Zaxor drawled, scorn filling his voice. Barkley wanted nothing more than to crawl under his desk at the tone. He was going to get kicked out of the class at this rate. “How far humans have fallen in a scant few hundred years. What ‘Circle’ of supposed intellect would stoop so far as to burn books they disagree with? At one point, all knowledge was so sacred that even tomes of blatant lies were kept but locked away, yet one of the most esteemed mages in human history’s research was burnt to ash.”
“That may be so, master demon, but this is what we teach now, and you are disturbing my class,” Lucille said with an air of finality before clearing her throat. She was interrupted again as a demon popped into existence beside her.
This imp was bigger than the ones Barkley had seen so far, its skin a dusky red and its eyes more sombre than he expected. It stood on the desk next to Lucille instead of fluttering about on its wings, and it seemed far less fidgety than normal imps.
“Zaxor Vez’gollock.”
Its voice was deeper than he expected, far more so than the other imps, but still higher than a human’s. If he wasn’t mistaken, the demon sounded female, although there was nothing
about its appearance to back up that thought.
“Obkel,” Zaxor said by way of greeting. His tone was less disdainful when addressing the other demon, but a hint of mocking amusement remained. “And here I thought these ‘so-called’ mages of today only contracted the lowest of the lower demons. I did not expect to see such an esteemed imp matriarch here.”
“Time changes many things,” she said, head bobbing in a brief display of respect. “But I have held a contract with the Brook family for many generations.”
Lucille was looking between the two demons with a mixture of curiosity and irritation. They were talking as though the class of humans were not present, and while it was, probably intentionally, obnoxious, it was also fascinating. Barkley had no idea that contracts could be passed down from generation to generation, or to another person at all. He wondered if the terms had to be re-agreed upon each time the human bearer changed and filed away the question to ask Zaxor later.
“Well, aren’t you lucky, teacher.” Zaxor drawled the title out like an insult and Lucille narrowed her eyes at the demon. “You have a contract with the most respected of all the imp elders and access to a greater source of magic and knowledge than any of your peers. But any imp, no matter how impressive, is still a lower demon. No wonder humans have fallen so far.”
The half-smile across Zaxor’s face was taunting, almost mocking, as though he was intentionally baiting the mage. Barkley wanted to sink through his desk and the floor beneath to hide out of sheer mortification. He had planned to keep a low profile and just get on with what he needed to do to become a mage, but Zaxor was making it impossible. It had been less than a day since he had started his studies; in fact, it was barely half way through the morning.
“And if our imps are lower demons, what does that make you?” Lucille shot back in challenge.
“A higher demon, of course.”
Zaxor spread his arms wide as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, his smile widening to show off too-white teeth. Looking closer, Barkley could make out more clearly that his teeth were pointier than a regular humans, although not as much as the other demons he had seen.
Lucille turned to her imp, still standing serenely on the desk beside her. “Obkel?”
“Zaxor Vez’gollock speaks true,” Obkel said, inclining her head respectfully once again. “He is one of the great powers of the demon plane, along with such demons as the great dragons and mighty abyssals.”
Silence greeted her words, and Barkley stared at Zaxor with fresh eyes. His arrogant attitude and baiting remarks made sense now. Although, if he had been being honest with himself, he probably could have figured that out earlier. It was suddenly painfully obvious that the demon had taken the contract with Barkley purely for amusement. When Barkley had asked, Zaxor said he wanted his soul for his collection, but it was clear he was enjoying himself immensely. So he gets some entertainment and a new soul at the end, no wonder he had agreed to Barkley’s plea so quickly.
“Frankly, I don’t care who you are,” Lucille started after visibly pulling herself back together. The sudden authority in her voice did nothing to remove the wide, taunting smile of Zaxor’s. “You are interrupting my class. Either be quiet or leave.”
With that, Lucille picked up her lesson from where she left off, but it was less confident now, as though it had shaken her self-confidence. Every five minutes Zaxor would interject with a snide rebuttal of the ‘facts’ she was presenting, and within the hour, Barkley found himself kicked out of the classroom. Zaxor promptly vanished out of existence, leaving him standing in the quiet hallway by himself feeling thoroughly embarrassed.
The worst part was that not only was this his first day, but he had no idea where anything was or what to do. Striking out in a random direction, Barkley cradled his empty notebook to his chest, inkpot and quill in hand. While he came across a few people wandering the halls of the massive castle, there were far fewer than he expected. They all seemed to be in a hurry as well; one of them, a young woman in grey robes like Barkley’s, was even running full tilt down the corridor towards him. He kept to the wall as she flew past him looking worried. Well, hopefully everything would be okay as he had no chance to ask if he could help with anything.
After meandering through the winding corridors for a time, he came across a large double doorway, the wooden doors sitting open to show walls filled with row upon row of books. Barkley cautiously walked forward to stop in the middle of the doorway, mouth agape in awe. The room was huge, at least three stories high from what he could see. The middle of the room was hollowed out, with colourful pieces of shaped glass hanging from the ceiling. Along the walls, floor to ceiling bookshelves were filled with books of all different shapes and sizes. Differently sized desks with chairs and even a few padded arm chairs filled the center of the circular room. Stairs to either side lead up to another floor, the railings circling the landing short enough that Barkley could see the second and third levels were a maze of bookshelves also filled to the brim.
Never in all his imaginings had Barkley believed there could be so many books in existence, let alone in one place. It was a beautiful space, and bright yellow lights were dotted about, small spheres of light that somehow hung in place on their own. They gave the room a warm glow that only added to the majesty of it all.
“Barkley!”
He jumped and looked around to spot Maxwell approaching him from the other side of the room. Looking past him, Barkley could see a desk near the back of the room that looked different to all the others. Books and sheaths of paper littered its length.
“Maxwell,” Barkley replied by way of greeting. He wondered if that was the mage's personal desk.
“Just Max is fine.” The older mage pulled up to a stop in front of him and seemed to look him up and down. It would have been intimidating if it wasn’t for the dark smudge of ink across his cheek.
“What is this place?”
“Ah.” Max swelled up with pride as he cast a look around the room laden with books. “This is the academy’s library. All the books here are available to be read here or to be borrowed to read elsewhere. This represents the knowledge of countless mages throughout history.”
“That’s amazing,” Barkley whispered in awe.
“Isn’t it?” Max sighed contentedly before turning back to Barkley. “When I’m not taking the city’s petitions, I’m here keeping this place in order.”
“Really?” Turning to face the older mage, Barkley bounced on his feet enthusiastically as he spoke. “That’s so cool! I can’t believe how many books there are here! Have you read them all?!”
Max laughed then gestured back to his desk and Barkley followed behind as they walked.
“I’m not sure it’s possible to read so many books in one lifetime, but that’s not stopping me from trying. I only wish everyone in the Circle had the same passion for books as you and I.” Max sighed wistfully as he looked around almost sadly. “From what I’ve read in old academy records, this room used to be the entranceway and all the surrounding rooms were also full of books, but nowadays this is all we have. But then, that’s what happens when you distrust knowledge enough that you burn books.”
“Lucille said something about books being burnt as well.”
“Speaking of Lucille, shouldn’t you be in class?”
They reached Maxwell’s desk and he grabbed an empty chair for Barkley to sit with him. Looking over the desk, not a patch of the wooden surface could be seen under the clutter of books, paper, and other odds and ends. Multiple books sat open and forgotten. It was remarkable Max could get anything done with such a mess.
“Zaxor kept disrupting the class, and I got kicked out. Of course, he vanished off to do…” Barkley trailed off, unsure where the demon went when he wasn’t with him. Presumably he went back to the demon plane like Max’s Quizak did, although to do what, he had no idea. “Zaxor things. I didn’t know what to do and I don’t know my way around, so I just walked until I found
this place.”
“I see having an unusual demon isn’t smooth sailing then. Well, I have about an hour before I need to head off for the petitions. How about you stay here until then and I can show you to the dinner hall on my way? You’ll be a bit early, but you’ll be able to meet up with the other students to attend the afternoon class.”
“Thank you, I’d appreciate that. If you don’t mind, can I ask about the book burnings?”
It seemed beyond strange to Barkley. Why would someone burn precious books? Even if the entire content was a lie, what harm was it? That fact that the author went to such length to write a book full of deceit still taught people things. It taught about the author that lived before, it perhaps even taught about the beliefs of that time. The author might very well have believed every word was true.
Max sighed, that sad look from earlier clouding his features again.
“Of course. Unlike some, I don’t believe any knowledge should be hidden.”
Chapter Eight
“Ahh, where to begin.” Max looked around the library as though the books would somehow give him a place to start. “It would be nearly one hundred and fifty years ago, if my memory serves. It is something that isn’t spoken about much, like a dirty secret that everyone knows but no one talks about. Honestly, I’m surprised Lucille mentioned it at all.”
“Zaxor kept interrupting the lesson because it was incorrect, apparently. I couldn’t really follow it anyway.” Barkley laughed as he ran a hand through his hair in embarrassment. “He asked after someone called Marigold Church and why we weren’t studying her theories. He had nothing nice to say about Hubert whoever and kept saying how far human mages have fallen.”
