Filch of the Burrows, better known as Sandsnake,

In the name of Cedia, and the laws that govern it, you have been found guilty of possessing an unregistered demon. In accordance to the law, any who possess an unregistered demon, are considered to be unchained. For which the punishment is death. The Council has decided that your demise will be one by hanging, from the very walls you despise so much. May your corpse serve our great nation as a warning to all those that skulk in the Burrows shadow.

As for your final request to see your family one last time.

Denied.

- Hadrian Blackwall’s speech, seconds before kicking Sandsnake, noose and all, from the walls.

A single, wet rat wormed its way through thick, steel bars, pausing briefly to sniff the stale air of our prison cell.

Once inside, it scampered around the cold stone floor, quickly tracking down the few bread crumbs strewn across it. Small hands greedily stuffed food inside its cheeks, little beady eyes unaware of my nearby presence. The dim orange glow, that emanated from the hallway, insufficient for its sight to pierce the deep shadows of my confinement. Unlike me.

I watched in amusement as the rat gorged itself on the remnants of my very last meal. The darkness offered no shelter to the rat, nor the room around it. Its contents revealed to me in varying shades of gray. Not that I would get to enjoy my new found sight for much longer, let alone the next sunrise. I don’t want to die.

There was no getting out of this one. Not with my arms constricted in these damnable binders. Two, hollow, iron balls encapsulated my hands, connected to two thick shackles around my wrist, my fingers forced into a fist by the lack of room inside of them. With no way to move my fingers, or open my palm, casting magic would be next to impossible. Though even if I could, it wouldn’t have mattered. The person that guarded us, would make sure of that. Especially that great warhammer of his. The Shaper that captured us was sitting opposite our cell, his hands resting on the pommel of his weapon, just begging us to pull something stupid. Torchlight reflected of his black helmet, a set of hard eyes peering at me through its slit. Is he the one who will execute me?

My body shivered in fear of the inevitable, the chains binding my feet softly rattling. Startled, the rat promptly slipped away through the bars, dragging with it the last crumb of bread. At least one of us is getting out of here. I heard a loud yawn come from the other side of the bench. I turned to see Gob lying next to it, finally waking up again. That natural disaster didn’t even resist when he was taken prisoner. He simply picked his nose, till they slapped his hands into binders. Just to be safe, they hogtied him with chains, before dumping him into the cell. He just rolled around a bit, saying something about finding a ‘comfy’ spot. When he got to the corner, he proceeded to lay still, telling me to wake him if anything interesting happened. I didn’t want to talk to him, but silently waiting for my execution would be even worse. Maybe he’ll drive the guard insane, make him do something stupid.

“You awake, Gob?” I asked, scooting closer up the bench.

The demon stifled a yawn. “Yes, Boss. Though my ass itches badly. Mind scratching it for me?”

I lifted my binders, smiling as he noticed it. I’d rather sleep in the Underground.

“Just use your toenails, Boss,” he said, writhing around to get closer to me. “I’m getting kind of desperate over here.”

How about I stick my foot up your ass?

I started distancing myself from the squirming of the demon. “Mind telling me, how you turned into a cave rat, Gob?”

He briefly stopped twisting near the edge of the bench. “That’s a secret, Boss.’’ He decided to lay sideways for now. “Wouldn’t want to spoil the fun.”

What we wouldn’t do without fun…

“Can you at least tell me why you turned into a cave rat?”

Gob’s tail began pushing him upright as he spoke, “Well, Boss. You wanted me to imitate a cave rat. So I thought, why not become a cave rat? I even asked permission to let a bit Loose, didn’t I?”

I need to start being more careful with my words.

Finally upright, Gob began scratching his backside against the edge of the bench. The Shaper seemingly annoyed as obscene sounds of pleasure emanated from the cell, Gob’s wings and tail trashing in obvious ecstasy.

With one final scratch, Gob quieted down. “Aaaah, that hit the spot.” Satisfied, he turned his attention towards me. “So what now, Boss?”

“Nothing, thanks to you.” I sighed, looking upwards at the stone ceiling. “Instead of applying to the Royal Academy, I’ll probably get hanged from the Lid come morning.”

My stomach churned at the mere thought of it, before twisting at Gob’s followup. “Can’t have that, Boss. Just tell me to Loose the Collar, and we’ll break out of here.”

I quickly stared down again, the Shaper’s gauntlet now firmly grasped around his weapon’s hilt. Gob seemed to have noticed it too, his teeth displayed in a ravenous smile. “Don’t worry about the small fry, Boss. I’ll have you out in no time.”

The Shaper stood up, flames flickering between the joints of his armor. “Don’t provoke him, Gob!”

Gob ignored me, his eyes almost twinkling in the dark. “What’s he gonna do, Boss? Whack me with his walking stick?”

That seemed to be the final straw. Fire erupted from the black armor, washing my body in a wave of heat, its light driving away the shadows that blanketed my cell. Not that Gob seemed to care, laughing like a maniac in the corner.

“You better let me Loose, Boss!” he cackled as the Shaper ripped the barred cell door off its hinges. “Cause this guy is just burning with hatred!”

The knight briefly froze in the cell opening, before his flames blazed with a new intensity, the air now painful to breathe. Here lies Marcus Ashwood, death by pun.

The inferno slowly moved through the opening, its heat forcing me to close my eyes. I need to word this right! I screamed the command as the flames roared closer. “I command you, Gob, by the power of our Contract, to Lo-”

The roars of the flames vanished.

The sudden silence surprised me, my words trailing off as cold air brushed against my skin. I slowly opened my eyes to see the Shaper’s black armor before me. His body petrified as his great warhammer hovered above his head, ready to strike the hogtied demon at his feet. His helmet slowly shifted towards me, a deep voice resounding from within. “Did you say Contract?”

I stumbled my words as his hard eyes observed me. “Y-yes… I said Contract just n-”

Gob’s voice cut through my sentence. “Hey, tin can! Why’d you sto-”

The Shaper kicked him hard in the ribs, launching his backside into the nearby wall. Gob hit it with a sickening crunch, before falling to the floor again. His wings, arms, and legs twisted in weird angles as his frame remained still. Not bothered in the slightest, the Shaper walked towards me, hands reaching for my arms. I backed away on instinct as I closed my eyes, feeling him tug my binders. There was an audible click as the weight around my wrists suddenly lifted. Surprised, I opened my eyes to the resounding clang of metal upon stone, my hands now free of their constraints.

“Show it to me,” the Shaper said, his palm outstretched towards me.

I stretched my fingers, hoping to buy some time for an answer. Better tell the truth. “I, uhmm, don’t know how.”

Two metal gauntlets grabbed my collar, lifting me from the ground, anger apparent in their wearers voice. “So you lied to me!?”

Terror drove me to respond, “No, you see. I-I just summoned Gob this morning, And that’s when I signed this Contract. He was t-the one that made it appear, I swear! I don’t even know where he got it from! You’ve got to believe me, please! I don’t wanna die!”

I could feel the tears start to stream down my face, snot filling my nose as my sobs echoed through the silent room. The Shaper fell silent, hands gradually lowering me to the floor. His sight fixated at the wall behind me, voice vacant and empty. “You made a contract with a demon… that you summoned this very morning?” His helmet shifted towards me. “How old are you?”

I wiped away the tears and snot on my face before answering. “Survived sixteen summers as of last week . . . sir Shaper.”

The darkness within the cell may have hid the startled reaction on his face, were it not for my new found sight piercing through the confines of his shadowy helmet. He quickly noticed, taking a few steps back to distance himself. “What are you?”

I just stared at the Shaper, unsure how to answer. “No matter. Forget what I said. Since you don’t know how to summon a Contract, I’ll have to figure something out. Now, what did Lady Adeline do again with…?” The knight started mumbling a bit, before speaking up. “Try grabbing the air.”

I was confused, but did what he told me. Nothing happened. The knight scratched his helmet. “Maybe, think of the Contract while doing it?”

I closed my eyes, fingers moving through the air as I envisioned myself grabbing hold of the dark scroll that eluded me. My hand grasped a familiar warmth, paper brushing against the skin of my palm. With a tug I pulled it towards me, eyes open to see the puff of smoke that engulfed my forearm. It quickly dissipated, revealing a dark gray scroll now clutched in my hand.

“So it is true…,” the Shaper whispered, his voice carried by the silence around me. He fiddled with his helmet, hastily removing it, before holding it under his arm. Brown eyes, set in a face worn by the deep lines of age, looked at me with amazement. His Wrath manifested in the few patches of red that streaked his silver gray hair and mustache. He strode forward, eyeing me with a sense of reverence, stopping a mere feet away from me. His gauntlets reached for the scroll, briefly pausing. “May I, child?”

I just nodded in consent, not sure as to what was truly happening. The metal finger joints gently picked up the scroll, handling it with the utmost care and safety. I could only stare in disbelief as the Shaper treated the Contract like some long lost treasure. What’s the big deal?

After opening the scroll and reading its contents, the man softly placed it back in my hands. He carefully lay down his helmet, before kneeling in front of me, his booming voice echoing of the stone walls. “Lord Warlock, forgive this foolish knight for his past transgressions!”

Huh?

The knight continued to speak, head facing downwards. “I was under the misguided assumption that your personal demon belonged to one of the Four Kings. My belief was that you were merely a decoy, one send to distract us from the real Warlock.”

I could only mumble in confusion at the Shaper kneeling before me. “What do you mean? Aren’t unchained Warlocks supposed to be executed?”

The man looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “You wished to join the Royal Academy, did you not?” I nodded my head in confirmation. “I can contact the Academy. Surely, they would spare someone of your outstanding talents.”

I get to… live?

Joy welled up inside of me as I tried holding back tears of relief. Not that I succeeded, the man considerate enough to look away as they streamed down my face. I tried wiping them away, but stopped when his hand grabbed my shoulder. Its grip was strong, though nothing compared to the hard look on his face. “But if you want to get out of here, you will need to do me a favor.”

Should’ve known there was a catch. Not that that stopped me from agreeing, the choice between life and death an obvious one. “Deal.”

The man’s grip loosened, an obvious weight lifted off his shoulders as he let out a long sigh of relief. He stood up, hand held out in greeting. “Lord Warlock, allow me to introduce myself. Richtus Redbridge, one of the Shapers under Hadrian Blackwall’s command.”

I shook it as hard as I could, not surprised to find his handshake firmer than mine. “Just call me Marcus.”

The man chuckled at my feeble attempt at dominance. “Seems you got over your crying.” I looked away, humiliation burning my cheeks. “No need to feel ashamed, boy. It is natural to be fearful of death. Gods be damned, I’ve pissed my breeches in many a battlefield!”

The Shaper broke out in a hearty laugh. Even Shapers know fear? I looked back, his words lifting my spirits. “That’s it, boy. Be strong. If not for me, then for my granddaughter.”

“Granddaughter?”

The man reached inside his armored collar, pulling out a long golden chain. He held it before me, a portrait in the middle silently swaying in the wind. Depicted on it was a young girl, couldn’t be more than twelve summers old. Her brown eyes sparkled as she laughed, deep crimson hair swaying in the wind. Her body held in the air by a smiling Richtus. “Isabelle, the joy of my life.”

He gazed into the distance, before speaking to me in a serious voice. “Marcus. I am the last Shaper of my line. With my daughter failing to inherit my Sin, and my son-in-law being a good for nothing scumbag.” He spat onto the ground. “I feared our surname would end with me. But that all changed the day my sun was born.”

He took my hand, opening it. “Little Isabelle.” He proceeded talking as he slowly dropped the chain inside it. “She was born Awakened, Marcus. The power she wields great enough to pass this years entry test to the Royal Academy.”

I see where this is going.

He met my gaze. “The same place you will enter.”

“So I’ve gotta look out for her?” I asked.

Richtus clenched my fingers around the chain. “Protect, Marcus. Protect.”

He saw the confused look on my face. “I am Bound to hide the truth, Marcus. All I can say is that the entrance test is not what it seems to be.”

Now that confused me even more. “Look, all you need to do is protect Isabelle for six months. Got it? Six months. Do that and you will have returned the favor.”

That’s oddly specific, but sure. I raised my hand to my heart, before reciting the old promise, “I swear upon the Gods, both old and new, that I will do this for you.”

Richtus nodded. “Good. She may be older now, but finding her should be a matter of spotting the girl with crimson hair.” He stood up, grabbing his helmet. “If she’s suspicious of you, just show her the necklace.”

He fiddled a bit with it as he put it back on, stepping over the ripped out cell door, only to pause in the hallway. “Stay here, till I brought the examiners.” He cast a glance to the thing still lying in the corner. “And make sure that demon of yours stays put. I don’t want it running around the place, scaring my men.”

With that Richtus disappeared into the stone corridor, footsteps growing ever more distant. I turned towards Gob, worrying about his injuries. The way his bones crunched, when he hit the wall, couldn’t have been a good sign. I laid the Contract on the prison bench as I moved closer, perplexed that his limbs seemed to have straightened themselves. Strange… I don’t see any bruising. I touched one of his arms, trying to feel if the bone shifted beneath the flesh. It didn’t budge, his leathery skin not swelled in the slightest. I could swear I hea-

“He’s gone, Boss.”

I jumped back in fright, landing ass first onto the ground. I immediately scrambled upwards, only to see a Gob smirking at me. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop doing what, Boss?” Gob asked with a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Stop doing that-that… just stop being you!” I shouted, hands trembling in anger.

“But I like being me, Boss.” he chuckled. “It’s you, who’s no fun.”

I mentally sighed. This is going nowhere.

“How long have you been awake, Gob?” I asked, standing up slowly, ass still sore from the fall.

“Since I hit the wall, Boss,” Gob said as he started squirming again. “Mind getting me out of this hogtie, Boss?”

I talked as I sat down on the wooden bench. “And have you terrorize anyone within three-hundred feet of me? You must think me mad.”

“Not mad, Boss. Just a crybaby.” My stare evoked a deep chuckle. “Though I reckon I can terrorize anyone within half a mile by now.”

I leaned my head against the cold wall. “Weren’t you supposed to stay within three-hundred feet of me?”

“That was before you drank the blood, Boss,” Gob said as he started wiggling his way to the cell opening. “The stronger you get, the stronger I get. Which in turn strengthens the binding between our souls.”

I mulled over his information, my foot restlessly tapping the stone floor. In the meantime Gob hopped and bounced his way to the cell opening ever so slowly. Oh no, you don’t. I quickly moved to intercept him.

“Almost there,” Gob said, before I pulled him back to the corner by his tail. Suffice to say, he did not look happy. “What you do that for, Boss?”

I turned around to sit on the bench once more, giving the demon a hard look. “The Shaper said to stay put. So we stay put.”

Gob scowled at me, before worming his way to the opening again, only to be dragged back when he got close to the exit. This continued for a good while, with Gob spewing a variety of creative insults at me, each time I dragged him back to his corner. He finally lay still after his eighteenth attempt proved unsuccessful, though it did not last long. Deep dark chuckles soon emanated from Gob’s lonesome corner, his eyes blazing with an intense yellow light. “Hey, Boss. Since we’re staying here anyway, let me ask you a question.”

Let’s get this over with. I turned to face him. “What is it?”

“Ever heard the most annoying sound in the world?” Gob asked, before inhaling deeply.

What kind of que- An unholy screech filled the cell as Gob opened his mouth, rattling my brain as my ears throbbed in pain. That’s it. I’ve had it with him. I plugged my ears, the screeching now physically bearable, albeit annoying as ever. No more playing nice. I looked around the cell, happy to see my pair of binders still lying on the floor. I snatched it up, before making my way towards Gob. My Virtue of Patience had finally been worn thin, binders clenched in my hands. I’m going to take my time, caving in that skull of his.

Gob stopped screeching when he saw me approach with the binders. Face adorned with that stupid grin of his. “Might not wanna do that, Boss.”

I stopped before him, binders raised above my head, ready to wipe that smirk of his face. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t brain you right now.”

“You’ll die, Boss.” Gob said, the grin now evolved into a full blown smile. “We’re soulbound, remember? If my soul departs, so does yours.”

The binders trembled in my hands, before I flung them onto the floor with a resounding clang. “Gods be damned!” I boiled with rage as I stomped through the prison cell, making my anger known to all those that could hear it. “What’s the point of having a demon, if you can’t summon it again, when it dies!?”

“There are many reasons, young Warlock,” a female voice said. I turned around to see a hooded figure standing in the cell opening, a thick black robe hiding the features of her body. Face hidden beneath an impenetrable mask of darkness, Richtus nowhere to be seen. She stepped forward, surveying the room. Her gaze briefly rested on the ripped out cell door, before turning her attention towards me. “Don’t worry about old Richtus. He’ll catch up soon enough. Having said that, I’ve personally volunteered to test your value.”

Gob interjected with a short whistle. “You better be careful, Boss. She’s dangerous.”

The hood shifted towards the corner, her voice now dripping with curiosity. “Thought that hardly seems necessary anymore.” She moved closer to Gob, kneeling down to get a closer look. “So you’re the one who morphed into a cave rat. You certainly don’t look the part.”

Gob chuckled. “That’s rich coming from one with Envy.” She flinched. Seems like he hit a sore spot. “Your kind tends to reek quite a bit, especially that thing hiding behind you.” She quickly backed away, heading towards me instead, her face still hidden from my eyes. Probably some kind of spell.

“Your pet has quite the mouth on him, doesn’t he? No matter, we’ll deal with that later,”she said as she walked past me. I turned to see her pick up the scroll from the bench. “Though, I will deduct some points. Can’t have you leaving your Contract out in the open.”

She walked back, handing the scroll to me. “Just to confirm Richtus’s information, I’ll need you to dismiss your own Contract.”

I grabbed the scroll, looking blankly at her. “I don’t know how.”

She giggled, her voice now softer than before. “And here I thought that old dog was lying to me. You really are completely new this, aren’t you?” I simply nodded. “How exciting! Now, just imagine putting the Contract into a container, after that it should do the rest.”

I closed my eyes, hand moving forward as I imagined myself putting the warm scroll into a small wooden chest. I let go, my opened eyes revealing nothing now, but an empty hand. The hooded woman started laughing, only to stop when she noticed my confusion. “Don’t worry. I’m just imagining the faces at the academy. I can’t wait to see their looks, when they realize the youngest Warlock in history turned out to be a Burrow rat.”

I could barely suppress the excitement welling up inside me. “So I’m in?”

“Oh, you’re in alright,” she said as a metallic noise echoed through the hallway.

A wheezing and exhausted Richtus soon appeared in front of the cell, choking down air as he tried to speak. “Lady…Adeline …please don’t… run off again.”

“There you are Richtus,” she said as she walked out of the cell. “Be so kind to go and escort Marcus back to his house. He’ll need a hand in moving what earthly belongings still remain there.”

Richtus gulped down some more air, before replying, “My lady… I strongly suggest we leave Marcus at the Academy. The Four Kings will surely be on high alert after tonight’s incident.”

“That is none of my concern,” she said as she walked close to him. “That was not a suggestion, but an order Richtus.”

The Shaper snapped into a crisp salute, fist striking his breastplate. “Yes, my Lady!”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Marcus Ashwood,” she said as she disappeared around the corner. Wait, how does she know my full name? Her voice echoed one last time through the hallway, “Shade, you can let him go now.”

I felt something brush past me, the orange light of the hallway’s torch flickering as if it stood in the wind, before continuing to burn with its usual steadiness. I turned to find Gob gasping for breath, eyes alit with a red blaze as anger seeped through his words, “Reminder to self… stab the next Envy demon I see.”

I looked at Richtus. “Who was she?”

“That would be Lady Adeline Kendall, Archduke of Envy.”