Nightmare Realm Summoner

Alex’s eyes flicked to the rest of Berith’s chains as he took a step back, preparing to draw on his magic — but the pure white metal didn’t seem to have any more cracks within it. There was only a single mar upon what had once been a flawless surface.

“Is something a matter?” Berith asked, the chains creaking taut as he leaned forward to peer at Alex. “You seem… concerned.”

“When did that happen?” Alex asked, jerking his chin toward the manacle around Berith’s wrist. “I don’t recall that being there the last time I checked.”

“And when was the last time you checked? I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me,” Berith drawled. The chains rattled as he leaned back against them, using the taut links of heavy white metal like a makeshift lounge chair. “It could have been at any point. Perhaps I’ve simply hidden it from you up until this point. Or perhaps it was because you finally crawled your way into Adept. After all, if I were capable of damaging these links on my own whenever I wanted to, I surely would have done it earlier… right?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “Given everything I know of you? Yes. You absolutely would have.”

“And what makes you so certain?” Berith asked.

“Because there’s no way I would have been able to sit around wrapped in chains and unable to do anything if I had even the smallest window of opportunity that I could use to escape,” Alex replied with a grin.

Berith snorted. “You’re nothing but a little mortal who only recently woke up to the truth of the world. And you think to compare yourself to me? You judge my choices based off your own?”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “We were both stuck. School for me, prison for you. Though there might be an argument that they’re the same thing. The rat race really doesn’t feel much better than locked in iron bars — but I digress. You might be a demon, but you were also sitting around stuck for a hell of a lot longer than I was. So yeah. I think you’d be a bat out of hell if you had even the smallest chance to get out of those chains.”

Berith’s laughter boomed through Alex’s Mind Palace.

“You’re right. I would be. But we should both be grateful. It would be such a waste if I escaped now. My presence alone would shatter you like a twig. There would be no fight at all. And, unlike you, the years have taught me patience. I am in no rush to free myself.”

“You aren’t freeing yourself at all,” Alex said. He narrowed his eyes. “I’m doing it for you. You’re just using the presence of my Mind Palace to crack those bindings… are you not?”

Berith shrugged. “A deck of cards shuffled and dealt is still yours, even if your hands aren’t the ones that played the cards.”

“Have you ever played a card game? Because that’s not how it works. At all.”

“You’re being pedantic just for the sake of it,” Berith said with a shrug, rattling his bindings. “There are a number of labels I could accurately apply to you. Stupid is not one of them. Not, at least, in isolation. You have enough intelligence to understand what I am saying.”

“But that takes all the fun out of it,” Alex replied with a smirk. “But I don’t want to waste any more time. I’ve got an Ancestry to clear. Was there a reason you decided to chat? Or were you just feeling lonely?”

“Just to give you a small piece of advice. Let’s call it a reward for managing to reach Adept,” Berith said. Something within the demon’s eyes shifted as his gaze focused on Alex, pinning him in place like a thumbtack through paper. “Don’t degrade us again.”

“Huh?” Alex blinked. “Degrade? What are you talking about? I’ve never done anything like that. And what do you mean by us—”

“That trash glaive you picked up,” Berith said, disgust dripping from his words. He shifted to his feet, moving so fast that Alex heard the crash of his chains slamming taut well before he realized the demon was no longer sitting. “Do not utilize such… lackluster tools. They are ill becoming of our power.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“What are you on about?” Alex asked. “Have you been paying attention to anything I’ve been doing for the Ancestry? I can’t use the Chainsword right now. Too many people know it’s mine. It’ll completely give me away. And when did you get this picky? I didn’t realize you couldn’t sleep if there was a pea under your mattress. I guess I’ve got two Princesses, huh?”

Berith snorted. “You do not understand. When you approach a fight, what is it you see?”

Alex stared at the demon. “I don’t know. Did you decide to suddenly become philosophical as well? A fight is a fight. Challenge, maybe?”

“Challenge. A fight.” Berith nodded. “Yes. Exactly. And what is the purpose of victory?”

“Depends what the fight is about. What do you want me to say? The purpose of victory is to win?”

“But it is not just winning that matters,” Berith said. “It is how you win. A weak, pathetic victory is no victory at all. And using the tools of one beneath us… that is not a good victory. It is uninspired.”

“What are you, a struggling artist?” Alex asked, aghast. This didn’t seem like Berith at all. Then again, he really didn’t know all that much about the demon. “And I don’t know if I like all these usages of us. There is no us, Berith. There’s just me and you.”

“Eventually, that will be true,” Berith said with a small nod. “But at the moment, our souls are merged. We are together. I must bear witness to your actions. Watching you fight with the equivalent of a plastic spoon is… disgusting.”

“This really sounds like more of a you problem,” Alex said. “If anything, someone fighting with a plastic spoon sounds pretty badass. That takes a lot more skill than using a good weapon. If you’ve got such an issue with my weapon, then help me find a different one. I won’t say no to that.”

Berith stared at Alex.

He stared back at the demon.

He’s never mentioned anything like this before. For that matter, he’s never been so… prissy? I don’t know what else to call this. It’s like he’s some king whose being forced to watch a very boring gladiator. What changed? It’s almost like he’s concerned with his self-image, like I’m somehow tainting his reputation.

But nobody even knows he’s in my head other than me.

“Hm,” Berith said. He let himself lower back down, the white chains going slack as he sat cross-legged upon the ground and let himself relax once more. “A weapon. I suppose you did reach Adept. It would be interesting to see.”

“What?” Alex asked, his brow furrowing. “The hell are you talking about? What’s gotten into you today? Did that crack in your bindings somehow damage your head as well? You’ve never cared about anything like this before.”

“It didn’t matter before,” Berith said. “You were an insect. A being below Adept doesn’t even have a true connection between their Mind Palace and their domain. The Partial Manifestation you managed was just a small glimpse of what true equilibrium is. Your prior inadequacies were acceptable. Expected, even. Nobody expects a baby to be able to wield a sword. But you are no longer a child.”

“What are you, my dad? That position was filled and lost a while ago, Berith. Is there some kind of coming-of-age thing for Offworlders when you reach Adept?”

Berith inclined his head. “It is an acknowledgement. Most fall well before they reach Adept tier. That is common, even within the Great Families. But your Mind Palace is firm. You possess some degree of potential. It would be better to utilize your hands and magic alone than to sully that potential with uninspired garbage. To use a poorly made tool is to endorse it. And you are no longer so pathetic that such an action comes without consequence.”

Alex’s brow furrowed.

This was more than just some idle displeasure. Berith was dead serious. And the demon didn’t strike him as the kind of being that was really that concerned over mere appearances. There was more to this than he was letting on.

“Are you going to tell me more?” Alex asked. “A straight answer feels like it would be a hell of a lot easier.”

Berith just laughed. “I don’t like you nearly enough for that. You’ll figure it out eventually. Just remember that there is no true coincidence in this world. All actions have results. Consequences. Words are more than just words, and actions are not made in isolation. For example… offering me a deal within your Mind Palace. One that I find rather intriguing indeed. I accept your earlier offer.”

“Huh? What—”

The rest of Alex’s sentence was lost in a pained cry as white flames erupted along his wrist. Agony seared into his mind in a hot flash. This was no normal fire. It wasn’t even hot. On the contrary. It was the exact opposite. A freezing cold, so sharp that it might as well have been a knife, sliced deep into him. Alex dropped to his knees, thrusting his hand into the waters of the dark lake, but they did nothing to stop the pain — or the fire.

“You asked me for a weapon,” Berith said, his gaze burning like the flame working its way into Alex’s flesh as his laughter echoed through Alex’s Mind Palace. “So allow me to give you one.”