Soul Retrieval (Solo, Magic Training)

“Look whose here!” Deva entered the tavern and was spotted seemingly immediately, given a grand announcement followed by the drunken jeers of twenty or so patrons. Frankly, it caught her off guard. Partly because she hasn’t spoken to anyone from Iceberg since her departure months ago, and partly because nobody has ever cheered for her before. Something was off, but what exactly the woman couldn’t put her tongue on just yet. Nevertheless, the feeling of uneasiness sat cozy in her stomach.

“Yes, yes, I’m back. Hello everyone.” She wasn’t exactly excited to be back home, and if she wasn’t requested then she would most likely be out somewhere else doing whatever the hell she gets up to. But alas, when your childhood friend that was presumed dead sends you a letter to meet them, you don’t turn them dead. Deva had many questions, some of which she hoped would be answered before the end of this short excursion. “Oi, Sam!” A voice calling her from the other side of the bar could be heard, but not seen. Deva slowly fought her way through the sea of drunken Iser until she eventually stumbled out of the other side in front of a booth. In the booth was a single patron; a tall woman with stark white hair and white lifeless eyes. The lack of color in her natural features was complimented by the color of the scars she had plastered all over her face and hands, some cuts, some slashes, and some burns. They looked familiar to Deva, but a lot of their features were lost on her. Guess that's what happens when you don’t see someone for over a decade.

“Wow, you look like shit.” Deva spoke plainly with her friend, or at least a person she assumed was her friend.

“Who is this Shit? Do they look good? You gonna introduce me?” They responded with a joke and a grin. Deva knew that grin anywhere, it was one that pissed her off many times when she was a kid.

“Kassandra.”

“In the flesh. Now take a seat, I gotta talk to you.” The joking demeanor was quick to disappear as business reared its ugly head and its ghost sat at the table. This was the Kassandra that Deva remembered, goal-oriented but witty. A wisecracker that knew how to get the job done. Anyways, Deva did as he was requested and sat in the booth across from Kassandra, her eyes fixated on the others. It was clear that it bothered her, and the seemingly blind woman made not of it.

“This? Made a deal with a devil, they wanted to see the world through a pair of eyes. Fresh. So we traded, and now I see through his. Luckily he’s nearly omniscient, sees through portals or something with a limited view. So while I’m very much--” Kassandra waves her hand in front of her face as an example. “I can still see around me.”

“Which leads me to what I was originally going to say. I need your help.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down. There’s a lot to unpack there. Demons? Help? Kass I thought you were dead." For the first time in a while, Deva was legitimately concerned about someone other than herself. After the brief killing spree she’s been on for various jobs, it was odd that she was taking the time to check in on someone else. But this was different. Whereas others were just random people she’s never known and never will, this was someone that had a heavy hand in her life. Kass was part of the reason she even pursued the Fury and fell into the expectations laid out for her by her father.

In response, Kass put her palm up. “Calm down. First off, devils not demons. They’re similar but a whole nother beast. Any idiot with an axe could kill a demon, but devils are rocking magic and power that make them much harder to take down. Next, it’s funny that you mention that because I was dead for a moment in time. That’s not important right now though, what is, is this.” Kassandra pulled out a thick leather-bound book that had a screaming face bound into the front. The pages were black and there was a thin line of string wrapped around it multiple times.

“Do I even-” Deva spoke in confusion, having a hard time grasping everything being thrown at her in 2-second intervals.

“The Death Binder. A journal of all that have died and those who will die, a gift to my father from my target. Goetia, a devil of finality. In return for my soul, he promised to put my father’s name at the end of the list. One thing you come to learn quick when you’re hunting these things is to never trust them.” Kassandra unwrapped the string from the book and it flung open on its own, a faint wail being heard from the face which was now on the table. The pages turned themselves all the way to the last page, in which the white writing could be clearly seen by Deva. She could tell that it wasn’t any name she recognized.

“That’s not him.” She spoke bluntly, wondering where this was going to lead. Kassandra was the type to hold a grudge, so Deva had somewhat of an idea of what was going to be said next.

“Bastard took my soul and placed my father at the front of the book. Made it so he never lived in the first place. Do you ever wonder why you never met my dad? Why nobody could tell you who he is? Why my mother would show up to the meetings by herself? Yeah, instead Goetia used the chance to put my name here instead. My actual name, not the one you know me as?” On Deva’s face the process of realization could be seen. She wasn’t exactly the best at keeping her lack of intuition hidden, so when this bombshell was dropped the person she knew as Kassandra couldn’t help but laugh. It was a loud one, one that festered in the stomach before being unleashed unto the ears of other patrons. It caught the eye of a few people, some of which cheered and drank to the joy.

“So then your father is…”

“A devil, yeah. And my name is Kazy’maridza. Keep calling me Kass. Anyways, I dedicated my life to get my soul back and my name out of this book.” Her finger was placed on the last page, right on her own name. “A little bit of patricide and immortality, y’know? But I can’t kill him on my own, so who better than the Fury?”

Ah, so that’s where this was going. Of course, they wanted something from her. Part of her was hurt by the fact that the only reason a childhood friend would even reach out was for something, but another part of her was sort of proud that her skills were coveted enough to make the dead request her. Plus, it’s not like she had anything better to do but twiddle her thumbs until she was required by her guild to do something crazy. Crazy is what she does best, and this situation seemed just crazy enough.

“Fine. But you owe me a drink when we get your soul back.” And with that, the two of them stood up and shook hands.

Let’s go kill a devil.

1247 / 2000 Words

One thing that Deva did not miss about Iceberg was the cold. The days were only longer and the nights were made that much worse when one had to endure the freezing cold for hours on end. Luckily, the warmth of alcohol numbed most people's senses as it was doing for Deva at the current moment, making the trek a little less grueling. The two of them walked for seemingly 6 hours before Kassandra muttered a word. Thank god, the silence was starting to annoy Deva that she started to drunkenly hum the tune to 3 different songs at once, ending up as some sort of amalgamation of music that would offend any musician.

“We’re here. The lair of Goetia. He apparently likes it here since there’s a whole lot of nothing for a while.” Kassandra described the location in front of them, a spire made of black ice. It reached past the cloud, splitting them as they passed over the structure. There were no windows, but rather a door roughly 20 meters above the ground that had a staircase leading up to it. Deva let out a sigh of frustration as she realized that for her to get to the top of the stairs she was going to have to climb. All of them. While drunk.

“You didn’t say there were going to be stairs…!” Halfway up the complaints started to roll out. Deva was basically climbing up on her hands and knees by this point, daring not to look down in fear of throwing up over the edge of the stairs. Speaking of which, she had to try her best not to look at them either as the sun was being reflected right into her eyes. Even the black ice was as reflective as the white barren lands they pierced.

Eventually, after a long and arduous journey up the stairs, Deva and Kass made it to the top. One of the two was much worse for wear, while the other was standing confidently against the open doorway.

“Oh? You’re here? Took you long enough.” Kassandra teased Deva as she reared her head into the hole. Deva paid her little mind as she got back onto her feet and found her balance. There was a quick decision in her head to not enable the goading, rather ignoring it and taking a look inside the tower herself. Past the doorway was nothing. Nothing above, nothing below except darkness. However, upon further inspection, there was a faint, small red light deep in the abyss below her. To get this closer look, Sam leaned into the darkness. Before she could even register what to do next, there was a force behind her that pushed her all the way in.

From standing to falling, her impaired senses were just barely enough to flip her around to face where she came from. Only one person could have done this, and this was someone she held dear. How? Why? Deva wanted answers but found herself unable to ask them. Luckily, the grin on Kassandra’s face couldn’t keep itself closed.

“Remember? First thing about working with devils: don’t trust them. Thanks for my soul back though! And tell my Dad I said hello!” Her ugly cackle of a laugh rang through the spire as Deva only got farther and farther away from the source. And, after a brief moment, it was just Deva, her thoughts, and the darkness around her. What an awful way to die. Alone, by surprise, pretty much against everything Deva stood for. If only there was more for her, something better, something more ambitious, something less…

“Final?” A bassy voice spoke from the darkness.

“My daughter pulled one on you, hm? Her mother raised her well.” A skinny being tried its best to conceal its presence in the darkness of the spire, though the faint light from the bottom just barely illuminated him. He was humanoid in form, with a larger disproportionate head. His body was skinny and decrepit as if he has never tasted food and hadn’t moved in an eternity. If there were spiders in this place, his body would be a utopia for them.

“I’ll skip the introductions and move straight to the business. The Infinite Prison was not made to house you, and as much as I would love to release Kazy’maridza from her eternal suffering, she still has to pay for what has yet to come. Plus, your soul is worth much more than hers at the moment, the trade would be unfair.” An echoing laugh could be heard as sound was made but his body did not move. Deva tried to move her body as well, move her mouth to speak, but nothing responded. As if even the pulses from her brain never made it to the first nerve in her system.

“It’s a prison. Robs you of all freedom. Strong magic meant to cripple much stronger beings than you. I need something, somethings. Blood is thicker than water, wade through enough and you’ll drown at the waist. Enough blood, however, and you’ll float. My kin. Find them, use them, free me. Oh, and take a gift from me.” Goetia’s arm creaked as it reached for the other and ripped it off. No blood came out and he did not wince in pain. The arm was placed onto Deva’s back and the working one grabbed her from below. With a swift move of his fingers, she was risen upwards and back towards the opening in the wall.

Hours passed before she woke up in the snow, the spire gone. The arm she was “gift” was now converted into some odd material, hard like stone but somewhat moldable like steel. It seemed like she now had a purpose, and a motive. That bitch Kassandra was going to know what revenge tasted like.

And she won’t even see it coming.

2229 / 2000 Words