Nero ran toward his
friend, who was trying to get up from the ground, swatting at the bones
covering her. He couldn't stop thinking about her name. “Larinca. Larinca,
Larinca!”
—Larinca! —shouted
Nero when he reached her.
It was his friend,
yes. But she was different. Parts of her uniform were torn, and through the
fabric, green fur was visible on Larinca's body, like that of an animal. She
was turned away, so Nero couldn't see her face, but her hands and arms had
grown and were much thicker than usual.
—Larinca? —asked Nero,
uncertainly.
She turned, and Nero
saw that his friend was completely different. Her teeth were sharp. Her pupils
had turned thin and slitted, like a feline's. Her nails had grown grotesquely
long. A rough, obsidian-coloured horn jutted from her forehead, sharp and
jagged. But the most grotesque thing, what made Nero's eyes widen in horror,
was the huge mouth that had appeared on her waist.
From that mouth hung
an enormous tongue that dragged and writhed across the ground, picking up bones
and feeding them inside, to chew and digest them visibly.
—Larinca, what… —said
Nero. But that was no longer his friend.
She was a demon. She
had made a pact.
—THIS IS HOW IT MUST
BE DONE, CATALYST. A BLOOD SACRIFICE. THE DEMONIC POWER OF DIVINITY. A NEW
FORM. PERFECTION —said Barust.
Larinca stood up. Even
her bones had changed shape. Her legs had adopted the skeletal structure of a
bovine, and with it, their form. Larinca, or the demon that had once been his
friend, placed a bone on the tongue of her stomach. It wrapped around it and
devoured it, scattering bone splinters everywhere.
—END HER LIFE,
HALFBLOOD PRODIGY. CLOSE THE CIRCLE. CLAIM THE POWER OF FIRE —said Barust,
extending a hand toward Larinca. He brushed the girl's chin with a skeletal
finger, and the nearby skin and hair ignited. With a swift motion, Barust
caught the flames again in his hand and made them disappear.
Nero grabbed his wand.
His whole body was trembling. He had never killed a person, but he had
destroyed many demons. Creatures of darkness that threatened to harm his loved
ones. Monsters in the night, hunting the innocent and helpless.
True enemies.
Aberrations, opposed to the Goddess Velmar.
So, he raised his wand
and conjured a glyph of destruction. The magical symbol flashed red, encased in
a magic circle, floating in the air. All he had to do was twist his fingers,
and a flame burning at the temperature of the sun would destroy the demon in front
of him.
“Demon,” he repeated
to himself.
Larinca was sitting on
the ground, breaking bones with her hands and feeding them to the monstrous
mouth on her waist. Her expression was calm, and at times, she even smiled
faintly.
Nero lowered the wand.
He couldn't kill his friend.
—I refuse —said Nero,
crossing his arms. Suddenly, he felt freed, as if a weight had been lifted from
his back. One he had carried for a long time.
—CATALYST, LOOK AT THE
OTHERS. THEY ARE FULFILLING THEIR PART —said Barust.
Several spirals of
flame erupted from the ground. Within each ring of fire, Nero saw one of his
companions: different scenes in different places.
The two dragonoid
brothers, fighting to the death. Both had transformed into demons, each more
brutal than the other. Daomr had grown in every direction, developing a
chitinous exoskeleton from which milky eyes emerged. Threvn, the elder brother,
had fused his shield with his own flesh, becoming a massive, drooling creature.
They hurled destructive glyphs at each other with no strategy or pattern. They
just wanted to kill each other.
In another flame,
Valentio and Siphone were embracing. But he was much taller now and had giant,
black, torn bat wings. Four horns protruded from his head, and his hands had
become long claws. Siphone lay against Valentio’s chest, eyes closed, a grimace
of pain on her face. Valentio’s right hand was emerging from the girl's back,
holding her heart.
In a different one was
Nhoise, the most popular girl at the academy. At her feet lay a dozen different
student bodies. Her face was calm, and her already-red uniform was drenched in
blood. She smoked from an extremely long pipe and didn't appear physically
changed at all, though there was something in her gaze that deeply unsettled
Nero.
Nero looked for Caelth
and Ezold, his friends, in Barust's flames. But he didn’t see them. They had
begun their descent before Larinca and him, but it didn’t look like they had
reached any destination. Relieved, because that meant they were still alive, he
let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
He looked back at
Larinca. She had signed the pact, but if Nero, her companion, was still alive,
then who had been the blood sacrifice?
Barust began to laugh.
—PRODIGY, SHE MADE THE
GREATEST SACRIFICE. FOR YOU —said Barust—. SHE STOLE A LIFE. A VERY PRECIOUS
ONE. SPECIAL.
Floating in front of
the demon appeared the cake Larinca had shown Nero days before. Barust ripped
open the surface of the dessert, revealing meat inside. But Larinca was
vegetarian. She never ate meat. Never.
Then Nero understood.
Larinca hadn’t made the cake for herself, but as an offering to make a pact
with a demon. And the meat was from the sacrifice. Her grandmother. The person
Larinca loved and cherished the most, without hiding it in the slightest.
Grandma Carlina had
died at the hands of her granddaughter, to save Nero’s life and fulfil
Larinca’s wish: to make a pact with a demon.
—AH. UNDERSTANDING,
CATALYST. I CAN TASTE IT. ALONGSIDE THE PAIN, THE GRIEF, AND THE
DISAPPOINTMENT. AND… THE INTENSE AROMA OF HYPOCRISY —said Barust, licking his
lips.
All the flames in the
room went out. The only remaining light came from the demon himself, whose
smile had grown twisted. A trail of small flames ran from Nero's feet to
Larinca’s knees. She was still on the floor, playing with bones, gnawing and
cracking them like toast.
The pedestal where the
book lay caught fire, emerging from the darkness.
—DO IT, HALFBLOOD
PRODIGY. CATALYST OF THE IMPOSSIBLE. STEAL HER LIFE. MAKE A PACT WITH THE
FLAMES. EMBRACE YOUR DESTINY —said Barust. His laughter echoed throughout the
chamber. The heat surged again, threatening to scorch Nero alive.
Nero took a few steps
back, away from the demon. As he did, he bumped into his backpack. A growl came
from inside: Hollow. Barust kept laughing, but at the same time, he leaned more
and more toward them. He was growing, but so slowly that if Nero hadn’t been so
observant, he might not have noticed.
Nero raised his wand.
He felt like he was suffocating. With every breath, the fire burned him from
the inside.
—TODAY I SHALL DEVOUR
A SOUL, CATALYST. CHOOSE WHICH ONE —Nero conjured a defensive glyph and faced
Barust—. GLORIOUS. YOU RISE AGAINST ME, PRODIGY?
—I won’t kill my
friend —said Nero, conjuring a second defensive glyph. He couldn’t attack the
demon unless it struck first.
—ANSWER, CATALYST:
WILL YOU LET ANGER CONSUME YOU, OR WILL I CONSUME YOU FIRST? —said Barust.
The demon opened his
mouth wide and unleashed a jet of fire at Nero. The fire was liquid, blazing,
and deadly.
—Defend yourself!
—came Professor Morgana’s voice, suddenly. Nero didn’t know where the plush toy
was, but it had to be somewhere in the room, witnessing everything.
Nero unleashed his
magic and summoned a series of defensive glyphs. Barust’s fire tore through
them effortlessly, forcing Nero to roll across the ground, dodging the magic
the old-fashioned way. Without losing his nerve, Nero drew a magical
cancellation glyph on the floor. It was his weakest skill, so drawing them in
the air was out of the question, especially under stress.
Barust attacked again.
This time, he swung a horizontal blow, against which the glyph Nero had just
drawn was nearly useless. To defend himself, Nero conjured glyphs of
uncontrollable growth, but he realized too late that summoning brambles against
a demon wrapped in fire was a bad idea.
So, he was flung away
by the blow, rolling across the floor. He couldn't breathe and couldn’t get up.
His chest hurt terribly—probably a broken rib. Barust grinned and advanced
slowly, enjoying the moment, digging his skeletal claws into the cracked stone
floor.
Nero closed his
fingers to defend himself, but when he did, he found his wand was gone. He must
have lost it rolling on the ground. Still unable to stand, he drew a healing
glyph on the floor with his finger and touched it with his hand, imbuing it
with magic. Slowly, strength returned to his muscles, but so did the pain, as
he began to feel the parts of his body that had gone numb from the demon’s
strike.
As best he could, he
quickly got to his knees. He had to find his wand if he wanted to survive
Barust’s next attack. If he didn’t, he was as good as dead.
“If I’d practiced more
with Siphone, I could conjure without a wand by now,” he thought, biting his
lip. Regret was useless, but he couldn’t help thinking it. The class rep didn’t
treat him warmly and wasn’t his friend, but she fulfilled her duties perfectly
and had offered to help him improve several times, maybe out of pity. Nero
thought of the image Barust had shown him, where Valentio, transformed into a
demon, had torn out Siphone’s heart, and Nero shuddered.
He would never see the
class rep again.
He would never see his
friends Ezold and Caelth again.
He was going to die
down here.
Barust rose above him,
leaning in, mouth agape. Up close, he was gigantic. The demon roared, and a
cascade of liquid fire fell upon Nero.
With a final surge of
survival instinct, Nero closed his eyes and focused, projecting his magic
upward, trying to conjure defensive glyphs without the wand. The same ones that
had already failed once.
When fear let him open
his eyes again, above him floated a glyph he knew well: it was the mark on his
arm. The glyph was holding back all the fire, which spilled down the sides in
torrents, forming a burning waterfall far from Nero's body.
But that wasn’t the
most unusual thing. Between Nero and the glyph, standing before him, was… Nero.
—What? —said Nero.
It was him... and yet,
not him. His arms were raised, holding a wand. His hood was pulled back, and
both his horns and the birthmark on his arm were glowing teal. A stream of
magic flowed from the wand, feeding the glyph.
—Who… who are you?
—said Nero, standing up.
The other Nero didn’t
respond. Meanwhile, Barust closed his fist and slammed it into the glyph
protecting them, cracking it. Nero reacted quickly and searched the ground for
his wand. Whoever this other Nero was, he had to recover his wand to help in
any way he could. His survival depended on it.
But his wand was
nowhere to be found. He couldn’t move around much either, as the liquid fire
continued to fall around him like a burning curtain.
—Nero! I mean, “other”
Nero! —shouted Nero—. How can I help? I don’t have my wand!
The other Nero looked
him in the eyes, saying nothing. His face flickered for an instant, as if it
weren’t fully real. And then Nero knew who it was.
—Hollow? Hollow, is
that you? —said Nero, completely stunned.
Hollow, his small
shapeshifting pet, nodded, using Nero’s own form. It was a completely identical
replica. Nero knew of his ability to transform, but had never seen it used like
this.
—How did you do that?
—said Nero, pointing at the glyph that was shielding them from Barust. The
demon was pounding on it relentlessly, trying to crush them. But each time he
struck it, the glyph restored itself and continued to protect them.
Hollow waved the wand.
It was Nero’s wand! Nero’s magic had responded to his wand, and since it was in
the hands of a “Nero,” the glyphs had worked.
“But that’s not the
glyph I conjured,” thought Nero, staring at the shield. It was identical to his
birthmark. And on Hollow’s arm, it glowed just as brightly.
—WHAT DOES THIS MEAN,
PRODIGY? WHO IS THIS OTHER YOU?—shouted Barust.
Hollow created a third
arm, a false copy of the wand arm. And with that arm, another wand appeared.
Then Hollow lowered the real wand and made it vanish into the air. The wand, the
real one, fell to the ground. Nero picked it up, and though the one Hollow now
wielded was a replica, it worked just like the real thing.
Hollow, with Nero’s
face, smiled. Nero smiled back.
—Barust! If you
thought I was alone, you were wrong! —said Nero. He pulled back his hood. His
horns began to glow. He dropped the tattered remains of his uniform cape and
rolled up the sleeve on the arm with the birthmark— Hollow! Wanna go demon
hunting?
Barust chose that
moment to strike the defensive glyph with both hands. Liquid fire exploded
downward as the glyph collapsed.
But Nero and Hollow
were no longer there. A return glyph had taken them to the one Nero had drawn
on the ground. There, mirroring each other’s movements, Nero and Hollow drew a
defensive glyph in the air, which multiplied a hundredfold, infused with pure
magic flowing from both of them.
—CATALYST, FINALLY!
SHOW US WHAT YOU’RE CAPABLE OF, PRODIGY! —said Barust. He almost seemed to be
enjoying himself.
—With pleasure —said
Nero, raising his wand. Hollow mimicked him.
The battle began again,
but this time, it was different. Nero didn’t know where the power coming from
inside him was born, though he suspected it came from his demon blood. His
horns, his birthmark, and his eyes began to emit a vivid teal glow, and the
same happened to Hollow. Nero felt powerful.
And he attacked. A
destructive glyph launched several energy blasts at Barust. But the demon took
the hit without flinching. Nero repeated the attack, with the same result:
nothing.
Hollow placed a hand
on Nero’s shoulder. Nero saw himself, as he truly was. Human. Devil. Imperfect.
Unmatched. Unique.
Nero launched the
attack again. This time, joined by Hollow. Both Nero wielded the wand and drew
the glyph of destruction in the air. The magic intertwined, and the glyph
changed shape. The energy beams surged again, and when they struck Barust, they
exploded, tearing away part of his skeleton. The demon roared. Nero, without
allowing himself to celebrate, attacked again.
But Barust was an
archdemon. He had the upper hand. After taking a hit, he conjured his own
glyphs, defending while simultaneously striking back.
—You go left. I’ll go
right —said Nero. Hollow nodded.
They split up. They
repeated the attack, but from opposite sides. Identical magic. Symmetrical.
Opposing.
It worked. Barust was
surrounded by explosions. By vines, enchanted to be fireproof. His limbs were
petrified. The ground beneath his feet blew up. Even the fire turned against
him.
Nero and Hollow danced
around Barust, casting spell after spell. The wand spun and spun through the
air, and Barust didn’t know how to defend himself: he was too big and couldn’t
block both angles at once. So, he did the only thing he could do.
He summoned his two
swords and shrank. He became human-sized, and attacked with renewed strength.
Nero tried to block the sword strikes with defensive glyphs, but Barust sliced
through them with brute force. Nero changed tactics and went on the offensive.
Hollow did the same.
But while Nero cast destructive and freezing glyphs, Hollow changed form, copying
Barust’s appearance. Hollow summoned his own flaming swords, identical to the
demon’s, handed one to Nero, and they continued the fight, now in close combat.
Barust roared. His roar still carried amusement, almost joy.
Nero thrust again and
again. His magic helped with the sword’s weight, making it feel light. Hollow
fought with Barust’s own ferocity, mimicking his every move. The demon didn’t
give in, but he was clearly growing frustrated.
And suddenly, he
raised his weapon with both hands, but leapt away from them.
Heading straight for
Larinca, who was still on the floor, unaware of the entire battle.
—NO! —shouted Nero,
propelling himself forward with an explosive glyph, even at the cost of hurting
himself. Hollow jumped too, copying Barust’s strength. Both companions flew
toward the demon, trying to stop what was clearly an attempt to kill Larinca.
—A LIFE, PRODIGY. A
SOUL —said Barust, shifting direction mid-jump, completely ignoring the laws of
physics.
Nero stabbed at the
demon, and pierced him straight through the chest. Barust’s eyes changed colour.
He tilted his head, looking at the sword driven through him.
—A DEATH. A LIE —said
Hollow, beside him, using Barust’s voice.
Nero turned, confused.
Next to him, the Barust who was supposed to be Hollow began to grow and laugh.
And in front of him, impaled by a sword of fire, was Hollow, in his usual form,
the one he always had in the lab.
And it was Nero who
held the sword.
Nero dropped it, and
it vanished into the air. Hollow fell—but Nero caught him before he hit the
ground. The colour in his eyes faded quickly.
—SIGN THE BOOK,
PRODIGY. ACCEPT IT. YOU’VE FULFILLED YOUR PART —said Barust.
Barust’s book appeared
before Nero, engulfed in flames. Its pages flipped rapidly until they reached a
blank one, with only a single word written: “Larinca”.
But Nero didn’t even
look at it.
He couldn’t take his
eyes off Hollow’s lifeless body. He was dead.
—I killed him. I
killed a friend —said Nero, kneeling on the ground. Hollow looked peaceful, but
his eyes had gone completely dark.
Nero cried. He
screamed like he never had before. From pain. From sorrow. From betrayal.
In Barust’s book, a
name began to write itself. An uppercase “N”. A lowercase “e”. Nero’s tears
turned blood red—his body couldn’t contain the pain of betraying his own
principles, of killing someone he cared about, even if he had been tricked into
doing it.
A second name began to
write itself under Nero’s, in smaller letters.
—YOUR PAIN IS ACCEPTED,
PRODIGY. THE PACT IS SEALED —said Barust, laughing—. NOW, LEAVE MY DOMAIN.
And he vanished.
Days later, Nero and
Larinca, both exhausted, both looking exactly as they had when they departed,
returned to Raven’s Order’s Academy. They were the last ones to return. The
students who had succeeded in forging the pact, now warlocks, were welcoming
those who came back, as instructed by Professor Morgana.
There stood Caelth and
Ezold, both wearing worried expressions. They each bore an identical wound on
their necks, mirrored but somehow exactly the same in a way that defied
explanation. Nhois was also there, but “the vain princess” showed no joy on her
face: only devastation. The bluish dragonoid, Threvn, waited beside her,
meditating while seated on his own tail. And, in front of everyone, was
Siphone, the class representative. Nero was stunned: he had seen her die at
Valentio’s hands. Yet there stood Principal Valion, smiling, which was a rare
sight, with his hand resting on Siphone’s shoulder. She had a stitched and
scarred wound on her chest, which she now wore like a badge of honour. Many
other students whom Nero recognized by sight were there as well. Fewer than
half of those who had begun the descent remained. Not every pair had succeeded.
—Congratulations —said
Professor Morgana. Larinca smiled and quickly fled toward the dormitories—. A
perfectly understandable reaction. Congratulations to you as well, Nero.
—Him? I sense no
change in his magic —said Principal Valion, referring to Nero. He didn’t reply.
—Demon blood,
Principal. He’s a halfblood —said Professor Morgana—. They don’t experience the
physical changes of the pact like non-demon students do.
Professor Morgana
explained that the transformation into a demon could be controlled at will. It
was a special kind of magic, unique, something that couldn’t be taught at the
academy. The professor called it “judgment.”
Two weeks passed. Nero
remained shut away, either in the infirmary or in his room. He never returned
to class. He didn’t dare set foot in the laboratory. His teachers didn’t scold
him. He was no longer a student: he was now a warlock and part of Sylthmir’s
army. He could take all the time he needed, as long as King Valgott didn’t
summon him.
His friends visited
him frequently. They kept him up to date on what was happening outside, on the
new tasks they had to carry out as warlocks, on the celebration, and on the
preparations for the first mission. The only thing Nero asked during all that
time, the only thing he wanted to know, was who had died and who had survived.
Caelth told him, with
an animated expression on his face, as he loved stories involving death and/or
blood.
—Known by you, Nero,
only two students have been murdered: Valentio and Daomr —said Caelth. Nero
flinched: the son of Principal Valion had died—. Remember how the two class
representatives descended together? Well, everyone expected Siphone to kill her
sister, Iris, but she didn’t. However, Valentio did kill the person he loved
most: his girlfriend, Siphone.
—But demons are
fickle, and immediately after Valentio signed the pact, the demon breathed life
back into Siphone’s newly deceased body, just enough for her to kill Valentio
in her demon form, cutting off his head —said Ezold.
—A truly tragic story.
Nhois, the second most popular student in the academy, is now the one holding
the highest position of authority. It’s a privilege granted by Principal Valion
in honour of his own son —said Caelth.
—As for the dragonoid
brothers, Daomr and Threvn, both had previously killed another of their relatives,
something quite common among dragonoids, so they signed the pact at the same
time. But, hungry for power, they tried to kill each other. Threvn, the more
skilled of the two —Ezold interrupted the tale when Caelth added “and the more
handsome of the two”— is the one who ended the other’s life, thus becoming the
heir of the Axbryn dragonoid tribe.
—But both have died as
demons, so King Valgott can summon them whenever he deems it necessary. It
won’t be the last time we see those two —said Caelth.
—And you two? How did
you do it? —said Nero.
—We’ve learned to
dodge death —said Caelth, showing the scar on her neck.
—The plan worked
because the Goddess Velmar willed it —said Ezold, rubbing the scar on her neck.
None of them wanted to
speak about Larinca or Nero. The secret of what had happened would stay with
them, as neither Larinca or Nero wanted to explain what they did to make the
pact.
More days went by.
Nero remained in the solitude of his room. One night, after shedding his last
tear, Nero finally left his room. He staggered through the academy with no
destination in mind. Everyone treated him differently. Teachers bowed their
heads when he passed. Students gave deep, formal bows. No one mistreated him
anymore. He was still a Devil, but it no longer mattered: Nero was a Warlock
now.
His steps carried him
aimlessly to the laboratory. The door was open. Eyes vacant, Nero entered. No
one was there. Not even Caelth, who practically lived in the lab.
He reached his
workbench. There, under any other circumstance, Hollow would have been waiting
for him. But no one greeted him. The bench was empty. The flasks were neatly
arranged. His friend was gone.
Murdered.
—I’m sorry. I’m so
sorry, Hollow. I… —Nero choked on the words. He didn’t know what to say. He
felt guilty. He wanted to disappear—…I’m sorry.
He picked up Hollow’s favourite
flask. It was large and round, perfect for curling up inside and taking long
naps. Nero wept, and his tears fell onto the glass. No one could bring his
friend back. There was nothing to be done.
—I wish I could see
you again, Hollow. Just one more time. But the real you —said Nero, placing the
flask gently back on the table—. I love you, Hollow. I’m sorry.
Nero turned to leave
the lab.
Standing before him
was a girl. Her hair was tied into two pigtails, one on each side of her head.
Short. She had horns, similar to Nero’s. She stared at her hands, confused. Her
body was intangible and glowing sky-blue: Hollow’s exact colour. And on her
forehead was the same birthmark that Nero had on his arm.
—Oh no, no, no —said
the girl.
—Who are you? —asked
Nero— That birthmark… is like mine!
She floated through
Nero like a ghost. As she passed, her scent brought back memories of happier
days.
—Hollow? —said Nero,
eyes wide.
—That’s the name you
know me by, yes —she said—. But where I’m from, or rather, when I’m from,
they knew me by another name.
—Are you really Hollow?
—asked Nero anxious.
—Yes. And no. I’m… damn.
You did something when we were at the Fumaroles. Your magic… resounded with
mine. I don’t know how, but I was dragged to this moment in time and space. I
remember… merging… —the girl said, holding her head, in grief— I remember…
disappearing… She… she controlled time… the witch… I’m sorry. This… this is
going to be very hard to explain.
—Sure. But, let me
insist: who are you? —asked Nero.
—My name is Flute. And
you, my friend… you have no idea what kind of mess you’re about to step into —said
Flute, playing with Hollow’s favourite flask.
THIS STORY WILL CONTINUE IN THE NEXT COLLECTION OF THE EVIL CLUSTER
