Zahn came to his senses on the couch, feet resting against the warm hearth as Ethan cooked something on the coals. “Welcome back, survivor.” The other man poked at him with the stirring spoon, tapping his leg with the handle. “You up yet? Did you come back with a debuff?” The lowbie blinked at him and dismissed his respawn message kindly informing him he was back to level one.

“No, just pissed. Maybe depressed. Single digit sucks, single level sucks way more.” He sat up, adjusting his torn shirt under the woolen bandolier. “One of the kids stuck me with a fucking javelin, finished me off when I was running from the Shaman and Burnato and two strange guys.”

Ethan chuckled at the end of the story, stirring their lunch. “Sounds exciting. I died when Brouhaman rolled me over with a wave of pebbles and sandwiched me between swords. Not very glorious, I know, my natural armor did nothing against tier three blades.”

Zahn summoned his Tome, flipping its pages to the Earth section. “My little dirt blob survived. It even stood up to that wave, messed up the AoE attack.” The spell description for Shift didn’t say anything about interactions with other spells, or why the little dirt pile seemed to be animated and separate from actual dirt but the mana cloud feeding it remained strong. Tracing the circular spellform he tried to turn it, finding the shape to be a complex spiral of lines with simple runes that lined up with the major curves forming the spell itself. It’s like the magi words are all variants of the same rune, and they’re lined up just so within the big circle. One smooth line made up of hundreds of little wobbles until they’re all synchronized. Musing away at the complexities hidden within a simple spell, he nearly dropped the bowl handed to him. “Thanks. What’s that about natural armor?”

Ethan sat with him on the couch, looking into his Grimoire at the spiral spell. “You know, from the secondary attribute menu. Based on your stats and buffs, all that jazz. You said something about a ‘blob’ that helped you survive a high-level spell? What’s that about?”

Zahn shrugged a shoulder as he tried to find details in the mostly useless Magi runes standing apart from the spell. “From sweeping. Remember I said how Two found me and made me clean up?”

“Yeah,” the blonde tapped at his chin, “What’s up with that too? You went into Two’s private rooms during a match, and I’m pretty sure I told you to stay on the sands.”

The lowbie grimaced, “Yeah he said pretty much the same. But apparently it’s supposed to be a public area? Whatever. I brought up the sand to him and he handed me a broom, so.”

Ethan stirred his lunch thoughtfully, “So you gathered up a bunch of old dust and dirt and sand from all those monsters, swept it into a pile and what - made a slime?”

The Custom waved the question away, “No way, stop being a shit. I passed the pile on my way out and enchanted it with Shift to move itself into the arena, or it’d just get scattered back into the pens. The thing had a bunch of leftover mana so it kept trucking.”

The Warlock grinned, “I can only imagine a little wad of dirt plodding its way across the ring like a raumba.” He looked over at the other Player’s book, reading the spell’s page. “Reminds me, why can I just read your book? You did bind it, right?”

The lowbie gestured, “Obviously. I can summon it, can’t I? First thing I did with it.”

The blonde shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed. “Nobody told you shit, did they. Okay. You’ve attuned your Grimoire, and you’ve stored it and recalled it from storage, but no. That’s not binding, binding is what stops me from stealing your spells by reading them. Like I can now.” Zahn tilted his book away, and the blonde chuckled. “No, I mean over your shoulder I can just cast by touching the spell, nothing looks like gibberish. It’s all correct.”

He summoned his own magical book with a flourish, opening to a random page and turning it to face Zahn. The red light echoed with black outline shone through, and his understanding of Magi showed him the spell was about summoning a force from another location and directing the energy but the page lacked any other information he could see.

“Anything? Spell name, cost, duration, cooldown?”

“It takes energy from somewhere and directs it somewhere else.”

The Warlock laughed, tapped the page with a finger. “It sucks the life out of a target my familiar is in melee combat with, and splits the free healing between us by whoever is more damaged.”

Zahn looked up with a grin, “That sounds awesome! Teach me that?”

Ethan shook his head, dismissing his Grimoire before returning to his soup. “That’s my point. I can easily see you’re reading about the Earth spell Shift. Your own Grimoire is not private, and that’s basic-ass shit.”

Draining the bowl in a few gulps, the Custom set it down before grabbing his book in both hands. “Fine, how do I do this?”

The other Player pulled a knife from his belt, handing it over. “Prick your finger.”

Zahn stabbed himself in the digit, nearly taking a chunk of flesh in his impatience.

“Open the book to the inside cover, and drag your finger down it.”

Following the instructions, he felt like he was about to soil the thin pages when the blood soaked into the cover and the light brown paper thickened, darkening a few shades and becoming stiffer to the touch. The new material felt rough to the touch and now held a white circle in the middle of the inside cover. Zahn touched the dot, and a small menu appeared describing a series of things like Natural Armor, Spell Power, Physical Damage, Magical Resistances, and Accuracy. He looked up from the grid at Ethan dumbfounded, and the Warlock caught the look before snorting into his soup.

“Looks like it worked,” he chortled around a mouthful as he cackled at the lowbie’s slack expression. “That’s the kind of info most folk have on demand from their summoned weapon, we get it in the Grimoire. Normally you’d get this lecture from your Class Trainer, but it's starting to look like everyone you’ve met never bothered to give you this shit. Once it was about swapping your cover onto new more powerful books like other classes do with swords but now you just improve your first one.”

Zahn looked between the book and his friend, “Alright, so some of this stuff I wouldn’t know already but it’s not like I’ve needed it yet. Why would someone go out of their way to keep me from learning something this simple?”

Ethan looked at him with hooded eyes, “Well it lets me see all your pages without a filter for one, and would let anyone who wanted to just read the Tome you have hidden away in there. Emphasis on hidden, because that kind of shit’s a very expensive secret.”

“It’s protected by an Elvish and Magi cypher, you need both languages to read it.” Remembering the only time he showed the book to someone else sparked a question he suspected he could already answer. “So, if someone wanted to read out of the Tome when I told them about it…”

Ethan didn’t look up from his food. “That person shouldn’t be trusted with anything. At all. They basically wanted to know your PIN number.”

“My what?”

He waved his spoon at the question, “Old history. Back in the first Empires, when the cities were still the ones built by the developers meant for Players to occupy and all that. Before the dragons wiped out the map and destroyed the world, every major city had access to the Banks. Each Player who visited one got the same storage synced across them all, accessible by a four-digit PIN you’d set the first time.” He gulped down another bite as Zahn nodded along, remembering something similar in older versions of the game. “Now, with the cities being built by the Locals and for the Locals there’s still banks but they don’t have the same function. Wherever you store something is where it stays, and you can transfer money between them to pick up later. They can break odd currencies for you too, but all of the old item storage system is wiped out. They even sacked the Great Market.”

He looked over the sub-menu and its details, noticing his spell power and resistances were far higher than his natural defenses. “What even matters to spellpower? I remember from the character creation room seeing that a whole bunch of shit is checked against Willpower but I don’t exactly have my notes with me.”

“By the time your mental stats are fifth tier you won’t need to write notes anymore. I look forward to the day mine are, but I’ve only gained a few levels since arriving here. It’s between your Int and Spirit, and it’s multiplied against your Will somehow, I’ve never gotten a good look at the math. I know Spirit matters more than Int for defense, and Int matters more for offence.”

Closing the menu, Zahn flipped pages to find his Tome and the partially completed third chapter. He read over the parts he’d jumped through before, looking to find the relation to Chaos he’d seen earlier. His attention was so fixed on the book he didn’t notice his empty bowl fall or the Warlock barking at him for making a mess.

“Hello? Earth to Zahn, you fucking spilled.”

The lowbie looked up from his study with a start, blinking as he pushed the magic book aside. “Sorry, I was getting into the parts about summoning demons and the shapes ‘n’ shit.”

Ethan brought over a towel to clean up the spill, “Oh yeah, you were talking about re-summoning my dead demon familiar for some reason.”

The Custom nodded, “According to this there isn’t any reason it should be dead dead, just broken and needs a new form. One you already subconsciously expect, apparently.”

The Warlock sighed, dropping the dirty towel against the hearth. “Well, I can tell you what happened. Iengoris hasn’t answered since.”

* * * * *

Running with the crew fresh out of Adventure Town wasn’t something new, but Ethan knew better than to trust complete strangers with his life. He’d already tagged the next Altar and really only cared about making sure he kept Iengoris at his side with the surge of holy warriors milling around. Casting devil’s fire spells and unholy curses with his half-sized fiery follower always received an enthusiastic reaction from other casters like Mages, but the holier-than-thou Clerics and Priests seemed to take offense to his advanced fire magic. Their group formed up when the Church swept its legion through, claiming they needed to monopolize the grounds for their own training purposes. When their nice quiet bar was suddenly packed by silver armor and golden trim, those of the Chaotic persuasion understood it was high time to move on.

Ethan the Warlock paired with Sandy the Rogue, following her lead on a team already hosting a Death Knight, Shaman, and Warrior that needed more bodies to reach a lower level. Already familiar with the early dangers in the Earth Dungeon, the Chaotic Good caster was happy to find a path away from the zealots that also happened to gain him levels at the same time. His months milling around the Dungeon after his first group broke up had allowed the hidden Player to build up a reputation around the town for being dependable, despite being barely in the second tier.

Running down the next few floors remained uneventful, with the Death Knight having already bought a map across the great trapped maze and their Shaman happy to move the slushy currents to keep watery Monsters away. Their trek was plagued by Minitaurs and their various minions, remaining consistent all the way past the deadly sixteenth floor. After their group emerged alive, they tagged the next Altar and navigated the battlefield level. With the walls standing at waist height rigged with traps and the walls taller than a man hosting any number of smaller beasts, Ethan sent his follower up to the top to help them navigate the safest route. With the half-sized fire devil looking above, it could call out the enemies approaching and rain down destruction with impunity out of reach.

It was only after they’d nearly finished the maze floor when he realized their mistake. The entrance to the maze level stood a distance away and higher up on a ramp, giving the delvers their chance to appreciate the scale of the level that lay before them. As long as Iengoris remained up above on the top of the walls, anyone who stood patiently at the entrance got a view of the correct path before it changed.

That night, they were ambushed. Ethan’s familiar leapt to his side, the three foot tall imp standing proud and defiant against the holy warriors. Paladin after Priest filed out of the maze, Clerics pointing their glowing scepters and shining silver swords cutting off escape.

“What should we do with them? Filthy Chaos scum.” The priests had somehow lost their kind and benevolent gaze while looking upon anyone not Lawfully aligned, and their disposition against magic casters made the Player fear for his safety.

“We must be honest to our cause, and beholden to His light, good Father.” The leading Paladin stood tall, his golden etched armor showing artistic render of holy forgiveness and compassion.

“But of course, good Reginald. I would never seek to deviate from His path.”

The group relaxed a little, hearing the words and taking the discussion to mean they would be spared. Ethan tried to edge his way to the back of the group, tugging at Sandy’s sleeve even as she pulled free and ignored him.

“Justly so, good brother. And just as is written in His Book, ‘suffer not the Chaos to live lest they change form to one that will destroy you.’ Holy Ground.” Pronouncing his verdict in the same monotone he preached with, the holy knight summoned his golden sword and shield as he cast the area effect spell. Yellow coloration stained the ground in an expanding circle around him, glowing like with sunlight from beneath as the Chaotic-aligned party began to scream from the Holy damage. Iengoris screeched an unholy cry before flinging itself at the Paladin, clawing at his exposed head and standing on the blessed shield to do so.

Ethan fell back, trying to escape the affected rocks as his friends screamed and burned. Sandy fell first, her grave appearing as a wide pyramid engraved with her name. Iengoris was nearly cut in half from the sword swipe, sending the beast tumbling before landing on its feet and sprinting back at the Paladin.

“Spirited little thing, isn’t he?” Reginald’s voice rang out over the screams of the dying, laughter coloring his tone. “I wonder if he counts as a Demonic Being? Find out for me boys!” At his beckoning the bulk of their Raid group began to chant in unison, giving off a silvery glow of their own.

Ethan continued to fall back, finding the exit to the next floor down and looking back in fear. Iengoris stopped its attack, stumbling to a halt and holding up a too-thin arm to try and block out the growing brightness. As the white light intensified enough to drown out the sanctified ground, the Warlock could see his minion’s bones through its skin as if the poor thing was being blasted with radiation in some horrible experiment. Before the blonde fled down through the gateway, he saw his beloved companion crumble to fragments from the edges in, dissolving from a tiny skeleton into dust.

* * * * *

“I’ve tried summoning Iengoris back a hundred times. More, probably. It never answers, and without my Class-specific focus I literally can’t cast anything. My mana may as well be locked away, or non-existent like with most fighters.”

Zahn followed the story with wide eyes, desperately wanting to know more about the magic they’d used. “You didn’t hear what the group spell was? Even though a bunch of different holy classes could use it?”

Ethan glared over at the lowbie with tears in his eyes. “Can you fucking not? I don’t exactly share that story with everyone, asshole.”

The shift in tone from narration to anger gave the Custom pause, making him rethink his original plan. “Sorry buddy. I promise I didn’t mean it like that, I don’t plan on mass-slaughtering a bunch of Warlock familiars. I just think it’s really cool there’s a spell that a whole group can cast like that, promise.” The blonde didn’t look over but his defiant sniff of a reply seemed enough to close the topic. “But anyway, even without whatever that skeletonizing spell was, I still think I can help.”

“It wasn’t a skelet-” The exasperated Warlock looked over to find the other Player with a smarmy grin, and caught himself. “Shithead. Help how?”

“According to my-” the lowbie caught himself, tapping the pages. “Sources, the name and shape of your demon is mostly subconscious. You invented its name and personality, down to the magic it specializes in and what it looks like. You watched it die and can’t re-summon it, so there’s probably some sort of block that the mystery spell put in.” He flipped the ink pages, turning to the mention of contacting the Chaos planes. “Says here that as long as you know your ‘fated hour’ and the ‘name of the Lord’ for your specialty, you should be able to open a rift to the right place in Chaos and re-form your whatever into an imp again.”

Ethan looked thoughtful, finally distracted from his painful memory. “Alright, but if there is some kind of block in my head just opening up a rift wouldn’t do anything.”

“You already know those other bits, about the hour and name?” The blonde nodded back, “Alright, then I have an idea for that too. I can use my Mana Vision to track the spell as you cast it, then I should be able to see if something’s in your brain stopping you. Anything they put in you with magic should show up if I can see all the mana, right?”

The other Player didn’t look as convinced. “I’ve seen you use the magic sight trick enough times, I don’t think it’ll do anything if my spell fails. It’s not that I don’t believe you, or think that stuff isn’t written in, y’know. It’s just, you’re level one bro. Kinda hard to picture you being useful for anything, let alone solving a Warlock-minion pact problem.”

Zahn scowled at the description, but failed to find a problem in his logic. “Okay, but is the pact the problem? Isn’t it some buff or permanent addon you always have, even if you can’t cast anything right now?”

Ethan hummed as his eyes darted around his own Heads-up Display. “Looks like the buff is still here, granting a bonus to my concentration and chance to repel magic attacks. It doesn’t do anything else without a familiar bound to me, just like the rest of my spells.”

The lowbie grinned at the news, “Great, then it’s not an issue between you and your Patron. Look, I know we can do this, what would it take for you to try? I’d love to be able to lord this over your ass, and I know there’s something simple we’re missing with this. Want to try out the mana sight?”

The Warlock paused in his objection, staring for a few seconds in silence. “You really think you can? Then teach me.”