“He’s here,” the abyssal knight announced.

“What….who’s where?” the summoner asked.

“The powerful wizard. The horned one that bears the likeness of Baphomet,” the demon said. “I feel his power. He is here in this green place.”

The summoner’s blood ran cold.

One of the rules they never deviated from was to only summon the abyssal knight in remote places away from prying eyes. He would always appear in close proximity to the summoner’s chosen target, yet distant enough to avoid capture. Until this moment, that rule always guaranteed safety.

The summoner’s heart began beating faster. “This means a change in plan. I’ll return you to your realm then teleport away. We’ll have to end the attack sooner than I wanted, but it can’t be helped now.” They were silent for a moment, thinking. “I suppose, the message I wanted them to hear was sent, even if it’s less ‘shout’ and more ‘whisper.’”

“Dismiss me all you wish, but do not teleport.”

“…what do you mean?”

“There is a strange magic in the air…I do not know its full purpose, but if you teleport, it will snare you.”

A cold sweat trickled down the demon summoner’s spine, their heart pounded.

“Oh no.”

There was no way they could take on the chancellor, whether invisible or not, Baelin could break them with a word, and if the ancient wizard was here, Watchers couldn’t be far behind.

What to do?

The summoner looked at the abyssal knight.

“Your roots are planted deep in your abyssal domain, yes?”

"They are.” Came the crackling reply.

“And you remain in good favour with your demon lord?”

“I do,” he said. “Lord Dagon’s whims have favoured me for a thousand of your years.”

“Then if you are killed, you will reconstitute?”

The demon paused for what seemed like forever. “Do you wish for me to battle this wizard?”

“Are you afraid?”

"I am not...though the horned one’s reputation is towering, even within other planes. Any immortal would not enter into such a battle lightly,” he said. “If I am killed, I will be reconstituted in my domain, yes, but in battling this wizard, my name will be known to him. If I am captured—and not killed—that could mean my enslavement for eons.”

Crash!

Judging from the shriek, something sentient had exploded in the distance. Time was running out.

“You owe me a life-debt, Ezaliel,” the summoner pressed. “You’re bound to me by your words and the magic that lies between us. I call on your aid now, using that debt.”

“This task will risk my life and more,” the abyssal knight said. “So, know this mortal, if you call upon the debt now, then all that is owed between us will be counted as paid. All future relations will be built on new offerings and services…or they will not be built at all.”

The demon summoner cursed inwardly.

This had been a colossal blunder…because of a rash choice. They should have controlled the impulse to act since the chances of discovery were that much greater with so many people around.

“Fine,” the summoner’s voice held a tone of regret. “Hold Baelin off until I’m past his spell, then the debt will be fulfilled, and you’ll be sent back to your plane. Agreed?”

“So the pact is spoken,” the demon said. “So the pact is sealed.”

“Very well,” the summoner stood and broke the summoning circle.

The abyssal knight’s form shimmered into being.

The demon-summoner blinked in awe. This wasn’t the first time they’d seen the demon—Ezaliel’s—true form, but his beauty was nothing less than astonishing.

To most, the word demon brought images of horned, bat-winged humanoids—muscular males or alluring, curvaceous females—terrifying predators, striking, pale humans, giant single-horned ogres, or even massive serpents to mind. One mostly thought of humanoids or predators with too many teeth and too many points on their bodies.

But being creatures of chaos: demons could be of any shape. Ezaliel was crystalline in structure—like a diamond come to life—and almost ten feet in height, and about the same in width. His form was carved like a perfectly cut jewel with thirty rhombic faces; each face displayed otherworldly lights swimming deep within its jewel-like structure. The lights shone like the shimmering hues in Noarc’s Rainbow Tower, but while pretty, they also disturbed one’s senses like a predators’ eyes shining through a dark jungle, or the light of stars that had grown sick. At times, they flared bright enough to light up the surrounding plant life, twisting the leaves and making them shimmer like one was viewing them through bubbling water.

Something…mimicking sound, escaped the abyssal knight—as rhythmic as breathing—but the summoner wasn’t so much hearing, as feeling it, crawling through their ears.

They lowered their gaze and swallowed.

Ezaliel radiated a beauty that was unlike anything known in this world.

But, he was also terrifying.

“Good luck, my friend,” the summoner finally said.

“I offer the same to you, little mortal,” Ezaliel’s voice crackled; his lights pulsated in time with his words. “Go. But know this, if you are caught and deny me future reward, you shall know my wrath. My memory is long.”

Silently, the crystalline demon floated into the air, then glided through the foliage like a stalking predator. Small beams of light sparked out of the rhombic facets as he went, striking the greenery around.

Anything they touched…broke—shattering into dozens of twisted, flat fragments like thinly sliced cross-sections—reminding the summoner of a sheep’s brain dissected long ago in a junior year alchemy class.

“Good hunting,” the summoner said, eager to escape the gardens.

Wait!” They suddenly called to the abyssal knight.

Ezaliel pulsated in place. “What is it?”

“…this magical net…how far does it extend?”

The lights flared.

“Fifty of your paces beyond the glass of this green place. Perhaps fifty-five, or so…are we done?”

“Er, yes, and again, good hunting!” The demon summoner ran for freedom.

“They won’t stop coming!” Salinger cried, shouting a spell that filled his plants with glowing, green energy. Vines, roots and branches whipped all around them, striking at demons again and again. The flying, bat-winged creatures splattered as massive boughs hammered them, but for every one that died, two took its place.

Demons of all sorts and shapes appeared, some had three eyes and held bone axes, some looked like ice covered insects that towered above them.

“Stay near me, Harmless!” Kybas shouted. “Stay at my side!”

Crash!

Harmless’ jaws snatched another winged demon from the air and flung it on the stones. His teeth were covered in demon flesh and his body was filled with enhancement spells his master had cast on him.

As he turned toward Kybas, tearing sounds ripped through the trees.

A massive demon’s scythed-claws chopped through Salinger’s plants, freezing them as it slashed away the vines. Ice covered the flora, weakening the plant life and slowing the attacks. Demons came for the familiar and the two wizards in a wave.

“No, no, no!” Salinger yelled. “Keep back! Get back you demonic bastards!”

Kybas inhaled deeply, his breath rasped.

“Go, Harmless!” he said.

He was low on mana and worn out; if he was going to be killed by demons, there was no reason his familiar should be killed too. But, Harmless didn’t leave though, he just kept up his attack on the monsters.

“Go Harmless! Leave!” Kybas cried. “I don’t want you to die!”

“I don’t wanna die, either!” Salinger screamed.

“What if nobody dies?” a deep voice asked.

Whooooooosh!

Salinger screamed as a tornado rose up around them.

The whirlwind tore through the foliage, lifting demons with its roaring winds. It didn’t matter how big they were: they were still sucked into the hungry storm.

Scrrrrrrp!

The monsters shrieked, ripped apart by…something in the wind.

Kybas squinted.

There were knife sharp chunks of obsidian tucked within the deadly tornado, which—by some magic—rotated in the opposite direction of the winds. The sharp edges tore through demons, reducing them to wet ribbons in heartbeats.

“By my ancestors,” Kybas swore.

Salinger gaped.

Even Harmless gaped.

Then all three yelped as a horned form emerged from a section of the tornado.

“Greetings,” the chancellor said, his voice as calm as if he were on a pleasant summer’s evening walk. His eyes shone with odd red, blue and orange lights. “The Sharp-Storm spell is a tricky thing: very hard to get it to do exactly what you want it to. So, I’d strongly suggest remaining in the eye of the storm. You’ll be safe there until I remove the trash from the gardens.”

Kybas, Salinger and even Harmless quickly nodded as one.

“Here.”

Baelin waved a hand.

A few rather comfortable looking chairs appeared beside the trio. “Do relax, I’m sure you could use a rest. I shall be back, shortly.”

Salinger, Kybas and Harmless could only watch as Baelin floated through the death-dealing storm as though there was nothing there but a light breeze.

Silence hung in the air, broken only by the sounds of dying demons.

“Well, uh,” Salinger coughed into his hand. “Let’s uh, have a seat, I suppose.”

Kybas watched the spot where Baelin had gone. “I want to be him when I grow up.”

“I think we all do.”

“There you are, my skittish little friends,” Baelin said, as his Wizard’s Eyes caught two rather interesting forms among the demonic riff-raff moving through the foliage. He didn’t recognise the person running toward the edge of the gardens, but he could see their heat despite the invisibility spell cloaking them.

The other form was a creature made in the likeness of crystals.

“Ah, so it is you who’s been causing so much misery,” a sharp edge tinged his voice as he said Ezaliel’s full name in the tongue of demons.

He paused, bringing up a mental image of a vast library floating in a black void. Books shot off the shelves—astral representations of the physical copies he owned—and opened before him. He’d chosen those on higher demonology.

Baelin’s eyes scanned about a hundred pages of lore on the abyssal knight below, then he banished the astral image.

“I see,” he said, his voice like flint. “You did have some nasty abilities. Including dreadfully sharp senses…you can hear me, can you not?”

There was a pause.

“I can.”

The crystalline form emerged from amongst the plant life.

“You’ve caused much trouble.” Baelin rose up to his full height. “You’ve harmed and killed those in my city, terrorized my colleagues, and even delayed an expedition that promises great reward. Stand down, and I shall send you back to your domain with only mild scarring after a little…punishment. After all, deterrents are demanded.”

The demon responded with violence.

Its otherworldly lights flared then shot through its many inner lenses, condensing into tiny, precise beams of incredible power.

Those beams shot from the facets.

Baelin raised a hand, erecting a multilayered barrier—part of a protective spell he’d set up years ago—that blocked them.

The first layer—a wall of force—stopped the physical impact. The second—a curtain of utter darkness and cold—robbed the beams of their light and heat. The third—a spell that ate away at magic—robbed them of much of their power.

Still, he was a bit surprised.

The beams were blocked by a few more layers of protections, but they’d penetrated surprisingly far.

No sense in playing games, then.

Baelin chanted words of power that conjured a host of glowing symbols in the air: symbols created by ancient wizards to be the bane of certain powerful demons. The abyssal knight shuddered when their light touched his body, suppressing some of his strength.

The chancellor immediately followed with one single powerful word bearing a resonance so destructive, that the demon would shudder apart.

Ezaliel turned, shifting a rhombic facet until it shone and gleamed like a mirror as the magic flew toward it. Baelin’s spell struck, deflected off the surface, and shot back toward the chancellor. He brushed it aside with a single hand.

He smiled.

It seemed this demon was not going to go quietly, which was indeed a poor choice. But, if that’s what it wanted, then he would oblige it, as the best part of any hunt was when one’s prey proved to be a challenge.