Writing Exercise - Whatever the Cost

Blood dripped onto the cold, stone floor.

Returning the ritual dagger to his belt, Adam closed his eyes, drew upon his power and whispered a name. Kneeling before a steel ring embedded onto the floor, he ran his bloodied hand over it, echoing the name again. Intoning the name a third time he empowered the circle with an effort of his will and a faint, blue glow rose around it like a barrier.

He rose as smoke billowed from within the circle, the smell of sulfur making his eyes water and burn. As it cleared, he saw a figure standing within: humanoid in shape, it had dark red skin and small horns growing from its forehead. It was dressed in fine, black robes and was resting a thick, black tome in the crook of its arm. Its eyes darted around, attempting to absorb every inch of the dark chamber.

“At least this one was smart enough to use a circle.”

Its voice was calm, deep and precisely articulated. It reminded Adam of his old mentor. He drew forth his power again and pointed at the creature with his bloodied hand.

“I bind you to this circle, Demon…”

The demon rolled its eyes and waved its hand in an impatient gesture.

“…and I name you: Kaz’rallah Hesh-barashamon.”

The demon grinned hard, canine teeth flashing with the blue glow of the barrier.

“Yes,” it growled. “I see we’re here for business. Enough with true-names, Wizard, call me Kaz. How may I be of service?”

Adam lowered his arm, blood running down his palm and gently splattering on the floor.

“You are Kaz, Infernal Loremaster and Keeper of Secrets?

“Indeed.”

“I have need of your Knowledge.”

“It’s always the same with your kind. How I adore the obsessive, academic nature of you will-workers. We are not so different, you know…”

“Enough,” Adam spat, cutting off the Demon. “I am in need of power beyond mortal ability and my need is dire.”

The demon’s grin grew wider.

“Of course it is. What is it that you seek to know?”

“My wife…” Adam whispered, his eyes losing focus for a moment before returning their gaze on the Demon. “She is sick and dying.”

“Surely this is something a Cleric could help you with?”

“No, I have brought forth every Cleric, Shaman and Healer I could find and they all say the same thing.”

The demon raised an eyebrow.

“ ‘I’m sorry. There is nothing that can be done. She has a wasting disease that will take her in time. Just try to make her comfortable and her last moments happy.’ They all look me in the eye as they damn my wife to a slow and torturous grave and tell me to make her happy.”

The demon chuckled softly to itself. Adam’s face grew red with anger.

“Does my suffering amuse you, Demon?”

“Verily, but that is not why we’re here. Your wife is sick and dying and there was nothing your healers could do. You want to know if there is a cure.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll need her blood.”

Adam pointed to a small vial on the floor within the circle, next to the demon’s blackened hoof. The demon knelt down, careful not to let any part of its body touch the blue glowing barrier. It lifted the glass vial and inspected it. “Yes,” it said to itself as it unsealed the container. The demon poured the blood into its mouth, groaning softly while its split tongue hungrily licked the inside of the vial clean. Kaz closed its eyes and sighed with satisfaction.

Adam could see the demon’s eyes - pressed against its closed eyelids - rapidly darting left and right as it stood in silence. Finally, Kaz opened its eyes, canine grin returning to its face.

“Mind rot, a fantastically terrible affliction. Tell me, Wizard, how is it your wife came under this disease?”

“It does not matter. Is there a cure?”

“There is always a cure. Shall we discuss the contract?”

“This is not my first time dealing with your kind, Demon. Name the terms.”

The demon tapped its clawed finger against its teeth, pondering. “Hmm, yes, well you seem to be in luck. As it so happens, the cost for this little bargain is one and the same with the key component needed for the ritual. Return it to me and you shall have your wife.”

“Name it!” demanded Adam.

“Bring me the hearts-blood of the King of Mesik.”

Adam inhaled sharply as his eyes shot wide. “Brom,” he whispered.

“The very same. Brom, beloved King of Mesik. He is a man of great power; his hearts-blood is essential in completing the ritual and would be an ever so sweet addition to my collection. Do you know him?”

Thoughts flashed in Adam’s mind. Images of days gone by… a pair of young boys running through the spring fields; youthful men, close as brothers, practicing the sword and their lessons; one, seated on the Throne; the other, by his side with words of Wizened counsel.

The demon stared intently at Adam.

“Yes, I see you do. All the better, he’ll never see it coming.”

Adam’s eyes refocused on Kaz, grim in intent.

“Are you sure there’s no other?”

“Quite. It must be his and his alone; those are the terms. Bring me the hearts-blood of Brom, King of Mesik and I will give your beloved wife her life back.”

Adam stood in silence, reflecting.

“He was the best man at my wedding. I am godfather to his son. I am his most trusted friend and personal advisor. We’ve been through so much together…”

The demon sighed, its face serious, eyes glowing. Kaz spoke with a practiced calm.

“Think on this, Wizard: Your wife’s illness is a fantastic disease - it eats away at the mind. Each day that passes she will lose more control over her body until she is nothing more than a shriveled shell, incapable of moving from the pool of her own filth. Her memory will slip away, years at a time for each day that she suffers. She will forget her childhood, her parents, and her family. She will forget all of her accomplishments and teachings. She will forget you, Adam. Forget that she ever knew you or loved you or wed you. Her heart will recoil in terror at the sight of you, a strange man standing over her, touching her paralyzed and broken body. This will happen, Wizard, know it to be true…”

Tears began to stream down Adam’s face.

“…she will waste away before your eyes praying for someone to end her living hell, praying for someone to do what must be done.”

Kaz pointed at Adam, its gaze piercing. “You spilled your own blood and summoned me here. You beseeched me for a cure and you have found it. It is within your power, Wizard! You looked into your wife’s eyes and promised her you will do anything it takes, whatever the cost, to cure her. Will you be called Oathbreaker and let her die?”

Adam’s bloodshot eyes stared hard into the demon’s glowing orbs, spittle dribbling down his lips.

“No,” he growled.

“Then do what must be done! Fulfill your duty! Say the words!”

His uncut hand reached for the ritual dagger, gripping it tightly. Drawing it forth before him, Adam slid his palm across the glowing barrier, smearing blood in front of the Demon’s eyes.

“YES!” shouted the Demon.

Adam closed his eyes and chanted slowly, “…Ei-hu, Adam Kad-amon, sharrat, Kaz’rallah Hesh-barashamon…”

Kaz began to growl, deep and otherworldly; it raised its head high as the chamber filled with the hum of power and Adam’s haunting chant. Brushing its hand against the blood-coated barrier, the Demon’s eyes flared with hellish light, predator grin on its face.

“It is time.”

The demon opened the book it clutched to a page covered in Infernal script; a thick, plumed feather appearing in its open hand...

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The door opened.

Adam entered the room, leaving behind him an empty chamber with a simple steel circle embedded at its center.

Closing the door behind him, he approached the sleeping form of his beloved, Leah. Gently kissing her on the forehead, he caressed her smooth cheek - his blood matting her hair and dripping onto her lips.

Turning slowly, Adam walked away from his slowly dying wife; blood gently dripping on the cold, stone floor.