NB: This series of one shots is dedicated to the brilliant Nile1283. Without her encouragement and support, I'd have given up writing Alex. Thanks Nile. I hope you like your long overdue gift.
Nile asked me to write about the moment Alex and Sebastian meet. I have endeavored to do so, but admittedly, I had a great deal of trouble with this task and can only hope this story is up to par. It's incredibly difficult to write beginnings—more difficult than endings, as I discovered. I had always pictured Alex and Sebastian to have a give-and-take relationship, a battle of wills that is eventually resolved in 'Fidelitas'. The following vignettes are designed to showcase various points in this relationship. Please let me know what you think.
Also: (1) Sorry for the delay; it's been a record-book kind of semester. (2) Thank you so very much for your indulgence and support. I read every email with a glad heart. (3) Here you'll find some off-camera torture, assault, rape, blasphemy, and discontinuity with 'Fidelitas.' I tried to make it fit, but not all the details will neatly correspond with that story. I hope it's not too distracting. (4) And most importantly, I do not own 'Kuroshitsuji.'
Alexandra looked into the dead eyes of her husband—vivid greens once sparkling with wit and mischief that had been made dull and lifeless. She knew she'd never forget the feeling of watching the life drain from Isaac's eyes. They'd made her watch. He'd been beaten, tortured, and raped before his throat was slit, and the final blow had been a twisted sort of mercy in Alexandra's opinion. The same was done to Nikki, her young son, who shared the same bright green eyes as his father. Nikki's screams seemed to thrum through the air still although his tiny body had lain still for several minutes. Those desperate echoes would haunt her for the rest of her life, and she intended to have a life long enough to expiate her guilt. Alexandra felt nothing any longer, save for a cold fury which then ignited into a raging thirst for vengeance. Their attackers had been members of a religious cult who'd deified Rasputin, a man slain by members of her family nearly a hundred years ago. Those hundred years were awash in blood as the devotees of Rasputin sought to eliminate her bloodline, generation to generation. She mused at the connection she shared with her enemies—a hunger for blood, and for the peace that only revenge can bring. It was a moment's musing that dropped out of her thoughts as she tried to secure an escape before the murderers returned with their leader to finish her off. She struggled against her bindings half-heartedly. The greater part of her magical energy was spent trying to save her family and options were limited. I could just give up, she thought. What's this life worth anyway? All that mattered is gone. Alexandra relaxed instinctively, knowing that welcoming death would be much easier than making an escape. Inaction would bring an end to all her pain; she simply had to wait. No. First, I will kill them all, and when I've done that, I can kill myself. What's it matter if I am condemned? I am already in Hell. God has abandoned me.
She was as sure of the last of her thoughts as of anything in her life. She'd performed a divine Summoning in hopes that such intervention would save her loved ones. She'd called upon the Light, vowing her life in exchange for Isaac and Nikki's. Small sacrifices had provided access to powerful white magic in the past. Perhaps a willingness to die in their stead would give her access to the strongest kind—a magic that would free them from the clutches of those who had captured them. A price paid gladly. Surely, God would answer such urgent pleas; she'd been a diligent servant since Yuri trained her as an exorcist all those years ago. Rasputin's devotees had made a habit of using demonic powers to achieve their ends since the death of the magician himself. Alexandra had been a vigorous defender of both her family and the Faith, working tirelessly against these dark magicians, but as she waited to be made a sacrifice to the deified charlatan, she realized that hubris had been her undoing. She'd become extraordinarily powerful and believed this power to be a mark of her favor with the Lord; she did not think she could be beaten. Each of these assumptions was incorrect.
The Light never answered her Summons. God's absence was manifestly clear, but for what ineffable reason He would leave her alone when she needed Him most, she could not understand. She was resentful and blinded by a maelstrom of emotions. And before she perceived the true nature of the feelings coursing through her body, her lips had already formed the words:
"Aima pros aima, phos eis he skoteia, didovtos he psyche, kalew tov kakov."
She'd clamped her eyes shut in concentration and upon opening them, she was greeted by a pair of ruby orbs glowing fiercely in a cloud of black mist. The room had been bitingly cold, but now it felt as if an inferno was consuming the building, taking hold of the walls and trapping her within. The heat was searing, the air unbreatheable. Alexandra steeled her nerve and tried to steady herself.
"Well, well, well. I don't believe I've ever been summoned by one of your kind before. An exorcist, no? How….interesting." The voice was like velvet, seductive and soft, its cadence carried by a note of bemusement.
"Show yourself." She spoke as forcefully as possible after being so broken, beaten, and exhausted. Magical power suffered according to mental and physical health, and the Summoning had stolen the last of Alexandra's. If this demon tried any tricks, she'd be unable to counter. He could kill her in an instant, steal her soul, and all her plans would amount to naught. But he materialized without travail, dressed impeccably in shades of black, smiling wickedly and saying nothing as he watched her take in his preternatural beauty. He'd assumed the form of a young man with dark, glossy hair, and pale, almost luminescent skin. His eyes alone betrayed his true nature and it was towards them that she was inexplicably drawn. This was predatory expedient, she knew. All demons are beautiful when they choose to be, and like moths to a flame, humans are undone by their own desires. He'd doubtless try to claim her body along with her soul, complete ownership being endemic to a demon's disposition. She inhaled sharply and cleared her raw throat. What's done cannot be undone. "Do you think to tempt me?" She asked. "I know your kind. You'll find that I'm no easy prey." Alexandra shifted under her bonds uncomfortably, but her eyes did not waver from his. Isaac and Nikki deserve revenge. Show weakness now, and you will lose.
"You've Summoned me. You've offered your soul in exchange for my services. You have considerable gifts, but even so, you cannot turn back. You are my prey. Whether or not you are easy prey remains to be seen." He smiled wider, displaying tiny fangs which changed his appearance from alluring to menacing. Even the room seemed to grow hotter in response. The demon leaned over her bound form, saccharine smile still fixed, voice low and intent. "And I will relish the challenge." He leapt up beside her nimbly, crossing his long legs over the edge of the table in one fluid motion. One pale hand elegantly brushed imaginary lint from the rich wool of the clothing that he'd produced from nothing more than air. The devil hummed a song that sounded eerily like the lullaby Yuri used to sing to her when she was a child. It was a haunting, bittersweet melody that echoed through the room. How does he know that song? He stopped humming and cocked his head in her direction. "I'll wager that you are wondering what else I know about you." Alexandra thought it best not to reply. He resumed the tune lazily, as if oblivious to the urgency of their situation. And when he finally finished: "I'm waiting."
"For what?"
The demon sneered as the fire in his eyes blazed brighter. She shivered. "For you to proceed." Again he moved like mist, straddling her in the blink of an eye, his hands on either side of her head, knees level with her hips. He pressed his body against hers slowly. She closed her eyes and shrank into the table as much as she could, but neither the table nor the demon would give, and she found herself trapped much like an insect frozen in amber. He was a statue, hard and heavy, taut muscles finely controlled so his weight would not crush her. Unlike stone, however, he was very much animate, a live wire charged with dangerous current. She could feel heat through his clothes, incandescent and unabating. A heady fragrance of sandalwood and amber flooded her senses and she arched into him without wanting to do so. Alexandra knew that she should be repulsed, but a demon's spell in her current state was nearly impossible to resist, and all she could feel was her heart beating a stammering tattoo in her chest and her blood rushing in her ears. He's manipulating my desires. Knowledge of the fact was of little help, though, and she gasped as he licked her ear. He chuckled, drinking in her reaction. "You know what to do. Say my name." The whisper brushed past her cheek, sending another chill along her spine. Alexandra felt dizzy and breathless, no doubt exactly what he intended. She stayed still, keeping her eyes closed. Looking at him would only reinforce the enchantment. Flashes of Isaac and Nikki appeared momentarily behind her eyelids. Her ears picked up on snippets of laughter that she knew was forever silenced, and the realization slowed the beating of her heart to an aching thud. A sobering chill settled in her chest where the demon's body was pressing against hers. Don't lose sight of what matters. All else is illusion. She regained herself, self-disgust being held in check with all her effort, and she inhaled deeply, trying to dispel the fog that had taken hostage of her mind. Demons have tried to tempt you before. Pull yourself together.
"I have no intention of naming you." The demon propped himself up on his elbows and cupped his chin in his hands. She wanted him to be surprised, to be angry even, but he seemed pleased if anything.
"You are no doubt aware that some of my power is dependent upon the bond between us. Naming me will make us stronger." The smile playing at the corners of his lips widened into a disturbing sickle-shaped smirk.
"Yes. But if you think I'll simply hand over to you greater power to seduce me, to own me, I'm afraid you're mistaken. I'm master here; I own you. You do as I command. And I command you to name yourself, unless you prefer that I call you by your real name."
Once again, she'd hoped the demon would be startled or outraged, or at least display any reaction apart from detached amusement, but to her disappointment he remained nonplussed. He would be a difficult charge, but Alexandra had already called him, and so she would have to maintain control or her authority as master would disintegrate. "My real name?" He tutted mockingly. "No, no. You know that is impossible. So you will call me Sebastian for the tenure of our covenant." The smirk dropped from his lips briefly, and before he recomposed himself, she saw it—gone in a flash but doubtless present—heartache, and to Alexandra it was as unmistakable as it was jarring. She pretended not to see, but tucked the memory away for future reference. They would spend the rest of her life looking for such chinks in each other's armor; she knew this was the inevitable result of making deals with such devils. "Yes, Sebastian Michaelis will serve nicely. And in what capacity will you be addressing me as such?"
"You will be my bodyguard. You will protect my life and assist my revenge against those who killed my family. My soul is offered as payment. Those are my terms."
"Those are generous terms. Mine is the greater profit. And as your bodyguard, it will be my duty to liberate you from this place unscathed, correct?"
"Yes. But Sebastian..." she tested the name, "you will no longer take such liberties regarding touch. In fact, I don't want you to touch me at all unless my life is in danger. Am I understood?"
He was still lying atop her, the bottom halves of their bodies pressed together. A challenge, then. Good. "Perfectly." He slid against her hotly, scraping his fingernails lightly up her thigh, eliciting another involuntary gasp. Laughing softly, he crooked an index finger under her chin. "But what if I am invited?"
"That will never happen." She growled at him, defiant although she now knew that her determination to resist only intensified his desire to prove her wrong. His hand swept from her thigh to her stomach and up her torso, finally settling around her throat. Razor sharp talons cut into her flesh painfully; he'd drawn blood. She felt his strength; he could snap her neck with only a minor exertion of effort.
"Really? But you did not order me. That would have been more expedient." He was waiting for her to react, to grow angry at his audacity, to order him to get off her, but she knew that she'd have the advantage in the long run if she forfeited this particular battle of wills. Masters are decisive, not reactive.
"I'm no fool. Orders are categorical. I'd rather not limit you in such ways, but if you should disobey me in this regard, I will exorcise you."
"Hmmm. Threats, now? In your position? My, you are a fascinating human. You will die if you do that. While the covenant holds, we are inextricably bound. Whither I will go, you must follow. If I'm sent back to Hell, then…." The last of this he said in a sing-song fashion which made Alexandra's blood run cold.
"Look around. What can Hell possibly do to me that hasn't already been done?" She'd been deliciously imperious until then, but now her words sounded anemic and empty. Sebastian noted the change wordlessly. He nodded, taken aback at the speed with which she could shift from forceful master to helpless victim. Alexandra Nikolayevich was proving to be most remarkable prey—a mass of contradictions and potentiality, her fury and determination lending flavor to her soul in delectable and surprising ways. He might rather enjoy being contracted to her for the next several years. After all, he'd have to pass the time somehow and years are but blinks to beings like him. He leapt off of the table and gestured at her bonds. The ropes had been held in place by magic, and Sebastian knew that she had tried and failed to loosen them herself. She is very weak. They fell away immediately and she sat up gingerly. She faced him, one hand rubbing the wrist which had developed a rope burn. Alexandra was filthy, covered in grime, sweat, tears, and blood, but he still felt supernatural energy radiating from her like a spider would feel tiny vibrations in its web. It was faint, probably diminished by her recent ordeal, but it was there and he believed it would be formidable if cultivated properly. I will craft you into a soul fit for me. You will be a feast. He instantaneously replaced the hunger in his gaze with something resembling human concern as he looked again at her. If I am to be your bodyguard, I will play the part flawlessly. The change in demeanor went unnoticed by her.
"I understand. But I will need to touch you to place the seal." Even Sebastian's tone seemed to soften, or it could have been exhaustion finally overcoming Alexandra's senses. She decided it was the latter and nodded wearily as he cut his left palm open with a lacquered fingernail. "Where?"
"Where I won't have to see it every time I look in the mirror." He nodded dutifully.
"As you wish. Please remove your shirt." She did as she was asked, dropping the blood-soaked garment on the floor. Sebastian walked around the table and placed his bleeding palm to her shoulder blade. Sharp screams bounced off the walls as her skin seemed to melt under his touch. Her body jerked away from the source of pain, but he wrapped his other arm around her, keeping her in place. "My apologies, but as you know, this is necessary." When the seal on her shoulder blade resembled perfectly the pentagram on the back of his left palm, he promptly removed both hands and unbuttoned his jacket, draping it around her shoulders gently and re-buttoning it for her. She was choking on difficult, rattling breaths. "Are you alright?" He knelt on the floor in front of her so that he could see into her face without touching her.
"I will be fine." Sebastian thought otherwise, but he did not voice this opinion. "Why the sudden change in attitude? Have you become docile all of the sudden?"
"Not docile, but compliant. I live by a code of contracts and aesthetics. And my bodyguard's aesthetics demand that I look after your health."
She barked a low, sarcastic laugh. "Right. Demonic aesthetics."
"It must seem ironic to you. You're human. But irony need not preclude truth. Demons have a code of conduct as does any living thing, although we seem to break such codes more often than other creatures." The wickedness had returned to his smile and she found herself oddly reassured by the red glint alighting his irises. "Now, we must leave this place before they return. I will take you home presently."
"No." This time he was surprised. She inclined her head towards the entrance. "I have orders for you. I order you to kill whoever comes through that door. Slowly. And I want you to extract information about this cult before you do so. I've no intention of letting any one of these bastards walk out of here after what they've done." She stumbled off the table and picked up the knife that had been set aside for her own throat. It gleamed as she wrapped her palm around its hilt. Her hand trembled with the effort of holding it steady, but deadly determination fortified her words. "And I will help." She looked to Isaac and Nikki. She'd been avoiding looking at them since she'd performed the Summoning, as though calling upon a demon had been a betrayal of the love they once shared. How desperately she wanted them to spring back to life, to wake her from this nightmare with the infectious laughter they usually reserved for lazy afternoons. Their bodies remained still, however, and Alexandra was too broken even to mourn. Mourning requires acceptance, and she did not intend to accept their fate without first exacting due payment for their loss. Anyone who'd dared to touch them would feel a pain tenfold more intense than Isaac or Nikki. Even if she could mourn, if she could feel anything but the venom pumping through her veins, she could not wash away the sin she'd just committed, nor the sins she planned to commit. To Hell with the God that forsakes His children. Her mind's eye recalled recent memories of her family—this was how she wanted to remember them, brimming with carelessness and vivacity. She vowed never to forget the way they had been, but she said her goodbyes in that bloodied room, with a sole demon as witness. I'm so sorry, Isaac, Nikki, but I can't come with you. I will have vengeance, and so Heaven will no longer have me. But I will give you blood in recompense for your suffering. I promise you that. Sebastian had been watching curiously as various emotions flitted across her features. "And then, we will take Isaac and Nikki away from here so that they can be buried in hallowed ground. I'll not have the ones I love sullied by our sins."
"Yes, master. And what will we do with this place once we've saved your family?"
"You will burn it. Do not leave a stone standing upon another. That's an order."
"Fire consumes everything. You may command its path, but you are liable to be burned." He was no longer speaking of practicalities.
"Then you'll see me reborn from the ashes."
Sebastian concealed his delight. "As you wish, master."
Since they arrived at her home, Alexandra rarely left her bedroom. She moved through the manor as would a ghost, quiet and aimless, eating very little and speaking less. She did not even attend her family's funeral, much to the dismay of her guardian Yuri. Sebastian passed these days as a silent shadow, noting his master's behavior and making mark of all information that might later be used to his advantage. He did not know if she could sense his constant presence in her bedroom or not, but he'd not been ordered to leave, so he maintained his unseen vigil from the dark corners, ever watchful, ever calculating. He knew that when she emerged from her depression, she would re-erect her defenses, thereafter depriving him of the opportunity to observe her so uninhibited. Knowing the sensibilities of one's prey gives a predator tremendous advantage, and Sebastian was an expert predator. So he learned Alexandra's sensibilities.
"Please Sasha, you have to go to the funeral. Say your goodbyes. You will never forgive yourself otherwise." Yuri was imploring a firmly locked door. Alexandra refused to answer. She was sitting on her bed, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, her head tucked firmly in her arms. Tears had been sliding down her cheeks so long that the skin marking their path was red and raw from the saline. Her head snapped up at door briefly before dropping to her knees again. The doorknob jiggled as Yuri tried desperately to gain entrance.
"I'll not forgive myself regardless." Her words were choked by sobs. The knob went still, and she heard Yuri's footsteps grow increasingly faint. She breathed a sigh of relief. It's best he leave. He'd never understand anyway.
"Master." The words were a delicate whisper, devoid of Sebastian's typical mocking lilt. He came forth from the blackness in the corner of the chamber.
She steadied her breath to respond. "I had a feeling you were here."
"You can sense my presence?" I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. A magician could certainly possess the abilities necessary to feel my approach - even one so weak.
"Yes. You feel…warm—like the sun when you emerge from the shade on a hot summer day."
"You're the first to compare me with sunlight," he said with a touch of irony.
"It's not you. When I think of Isaac, I think of the summer afternoons we spent on these grounds, doing nothing but enjoying the rare Russian sunshine. So…" she trailed off. He stared, fascinated by the peculiarity of his new master. She was at once brutally efficient and tragically vulnerable, and he could not determine which of her personalities was the more authentic.
"I see. You're thinking of Isaac and have no current referent for warmth apart from him."
"Yes."
"Then I am surprised that you would so lightly compare me with your love. After all, I am here because he is not."
"Don't flatter yourself. You're but a pale shade of the man he was, but you're a demon, and your presence affects the temperature. Hence, you're warm. It was a metaphor, not an assessment of worth." She again hugged her knees.
Sebastian smiled, but fondly. He would get a great deal of satisfaction in pulling apart this puzzle-box of a woman and putting her back together again in a fashion of his choosing. "Of course." He sat down next to her. Her eyes narrowed at him, clearly shocked by his boldness in approaching without permission. "Yuri is right. You should say your goodbyes. You may never again have opportunity." He did not expect her to heed this warning, and if pressed, he would not be able to articulate why he felt compelled to perform this small act of kindness, but he proceeded nevertheless.
"I don't need you to tell me what's right," she spat disgustedly. Sebastian remained impassive. She shook her head in resignation and felt herself relent. You're being unfair. He is not the one who stole them. And then more civilly, "I don't want to dishonor their memory."
"If you are reticent about my accompanying you, then simply go without me. You will be safe there, but if need arises, you know how to call me to your side." Sebastian had long been familiar with the initial bouts of guilt that plagued new masters. Some ordered him out of sight for the first several weeks, as if by removing him from their field of vision they could undo what they'd done. Some tried to nullify contracts, not understanding that the magic which enforced them could only be undone by obscure and equally costly magic. It did not surprise him in the least that an exorcist would experience a particularly keen feeling of regret. He saw no immediate cause for concern. Alexandra would eventually come round. Everyone does.
She sighed again. "When we met, Sebastian, you intimated that you already knew a lot about me. Clearly, you do not know everything. This has nothing to do with you."
The pieces fell into place neatly, and as Sebastian realized the real reason she refused to bid her farewells, he lifted her chin with his finger. Her tired, bloodshot eyes confirmed all his suspicions. I should have guessed. "You've never killed before, have you?"
Her well of acerbic replies had run dry and so she was forced to answer sincerely, exposing too much of herself far too soon. "I had no cause." And then, "I remember asking you not to touch me so freely." She slapped his hand away.
"Requests are easier to slight than orders" he replied, his tone reassuring. "But I will be more mindful in future."
"See that you are."
"You will have to cultivate a habit of killing if you seek revenge. The guilt will crush you underfoot if you cannot master your emotions." Another kindness he did not intend to gift. Perhaps her grief was affecting him, making him more susceptible to human emotion? It is not impossible that beings thus bound sometimes share the same feelings. It was a very rare phenomenon, but Alexandra's unique gifts might mean that the rules were slightly different in her case. Sebastian made mental note to be more perceptive so that he would not be caught unawares again. Emotions are not necessarily a disadvantage, not even for a demon, and Sebastian certainly felt them, but unexpected turns of mood could prove dangerous under certain conditions. This was something he knew all too well.
"I know…but just this once, I am making an exception. It's my price. Don't you see? I failed them. I cannot stand on the ground in which they will lie and disgrace it with my apologies…or worse, my sorrow."
He did not see. "As you wish, master."
Alexandra had not performed any magic since that fateful night months ago. She assumed God had abandoned her and that her power had been taken along with His favor. Fearful of being proven right, she'd been making more practical plans for attack against Rasputin's devotees. Eventually, magic would have to be fought with magic, but Sebastian's dark gifts would be utilized for those ends. A demon is a more able magician than any human. The two had made a great deal of progress researching recent manifestations of dark magic. Alexandra hoped to identify the culprits by the kinds of spells they favored, thereby gaining tactical as well as general information about those she hunted. She threw herself into her work, spending hour upon hour in the library. Sebastian would have liked returned to him the commanding and unrelenting master that he met that first night, but a productive Alexandra was much preferred to a defeated one, and while he was growing increasingly restless from lack of action, he was pleased that things had improved. He helped her, offering his encyclopedic knowledge of magic and history whenever it was required. He did not reveal the names of the people she sought, nor the fact that that the sorcerer Rasputin was still alive, knowing that Alexandra would only be satisfied by retribution won through her own efforts. Many hours could pass before a word was spoken between them and in the intervening days, such uncomfortable silences had become more comfortable, if not commonplace.
"How long have we been working? It's freezing in here." Alexandra looked up from her notes through the window. Darkness fell across the grounds, and a warm day had turned into a chilly night. Hours must have slipped away.
"Six hours, and I failed to mark the change in temperature." Sebastian lifted his eyes from the page he'd been perusing. She did appear uncomfortable; he should have noticed earlier. "Apologies, master. I cannot feel the cold unless I choose to."
"No need. You're my bodyguard, not my butler. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my day to day needs. And while we're on the subject, stop calling me master. It's too…Victorian. Bodyguards don't have masters."
"Is that an order?" He asked it in the playful tone to which she had lately become accustomed. She rolled her eyes. Orders, like anything shared between them, strengthened the bond between demon and contractor. She was careful not to give explicit command needlessly.
"A request." Sebastian tutted noncommittally. She stood from her chair, stretched her arms above her head, and walked towards the fireplace. "I'd better light a fire before my fingers go numb." As she moved past his chair, he grabbed her arm, rooting her to the spot in an instant. She looked down at the pale fingers curled around her wrist. A month ago she might have slapped him for his forwardness, but despite his proclivity to ignore her requests upon whim, Sebastian had not made a sexual advance towards her since the first night. His efforts in that direction were not spent, she knew, and he would soon make another attempt to mark her. She'd been mentally preparing herself for that eventuality for quite some time now, but that he did not seduce her when her defenses were destroyed was an expression of decency not expected in his kind. Maybe he relishes challenges after all. A demon with standards…how strange. She sighed dramatically, like a long-suffering parent preparing to scold a wayward child. "Sebastian…"
"I will release you after you've conjured the fire by magic."
"Impossible. God has abandoned me. Why else would I resort to demonic assistance?"
"Yes, yes, you remind me often that my being here is a result of your fall from grace. It's become rather dull. Nevertheless, I will restrain you until you do what I say. You will not order me to release you only so I might capture you again, and you cannot hope to best me physically." He was right. She could not win, so she tried to cut him the only way she had left.
"Goodness, I didn't know I'd contracted such a sensitive demon. My fall from grace, is it? You sound almost resentful."
He laughed in that mildly amused way of his. "Hardly. But I am immovable on this point. Conjure the flames." His fingers curled forcefully around her wrist. Was he ordering her? For what purpose? Trying to figure out his twisted mind was a pointless endeavor, she knew, but her own refused to rest. Sebastian was unlike any other demon she'd encountered. Admittedly, she'd encountered very few contracted demons, and certainly demons that possessed humans were less likely to be as cooperative as those in covenant with them, but even so, he was markedly different. Moments like this made him seem almost human. She recalled the flash of pain she saw in his eyes on the night they formed their contract. What was that? Alexandra wanted to ask him about his past often but was fearful of incurring his anger. An angry Sebastian would be a difficult beast to leash, despite the power inherent in a master's commands. A clever demon would always find his way around such commands, and she did not doubt for a moment her own demon's intelligence or cunning.
"I can't." Sadness seeped into her voice, but the vice around her wrist only squeezed in response. She tugged her arm helplessly. "Let me go."
"No. You avoid the task because you're afraid. All our work is in vain until you claim what is yours."
"There is nothing left to claim."
"I see. So you think God is the source of white magic? How utterly nonsensical. If that were the case, would not every white magician be a paragon of virtue?" She held her breath. He had a point. Supernatural ability seemed largely unrelated to a magician's ethics. She'd known some evil white magicians, and yet her demon companion seemed to grow less malevolent by the day. Wouldn't God ensure that His power only be given to those worthy to wield it? Why bestow it upon murderers and thieves, unless God was not responsible for the allocation of magic at all? Was she still a magician, after everything that she had done? Could she still call upon the Light? "Magic is birthright, not a divine gift. And it is still yours to command. I can feel it when I am near."
"Can you really?" She dared not believe him, but knew that he'd gain nothing from lying. It must be true, then.
"Yes. It has the effect of a siren's song." An exaggeration perhaps, but not completely false either. A sinister flash of teeth betrayed thoughts he did not voice. She shrank back as though she read them anyway. He held fast to her arm. "Now conjure the flames. This is the most elementary skill of all magicians, white and dark. You should accomplish it easily."
She closed her eyes and gathered herself, concentrating on visualizing flames leaping from the wood stacked in the fireplace. Yuri always told her that a good magician can see the results of her work before casting a spell. She thought about the wood kindling and then burning brightly in shades of orange and yellow, the smokiness of the air once the fire had caught hold, and the warmth of the blaze washing over her. "Pira." A spark crackled briefly before flames began dancing vigorously in the grate. The room warmed instantly, although she knew that the heat did not have the time to properly disseminate. Relief was the cause of her immediate comfort, but the fire too was much needed. This changes everything. I can win this now. Her eyes opened to find Sebastian's hand still wrapped around her wrist. He released her without being asked to do so. She in turn offered a smile, a genuine one, the first he'd seen. "You know, I don't always care for your methods, but that was rather kind of you. Thank you."
"Kindness? I'm afraid not. A powerful master too tame to act is a waste of my talents. I have no patience for impotence." Condescension edged his words, making her feel ashamed and naive.
"I would expect no less, I suppose." Alexandra was amicable despite the fact that he'd just shredded her confidence. Reclaiming her abilities had buoyed her somewhat, and so she did not feel compelled to retaliate in kind.
Sebastian stood, inclining his head in her direction before leaving the room. He'd made a habit of wandering the grounds. Alexandra wondered what he did on these nightly excursions, but thought better of asking. Even if he would tell me the truth, I don't think I want to know. She returned to her side of the library and began pulling various spellbooks from the shelves. The nature of their inquiries had changed now, and her research would have to move in new directions with it.
It was when he was well out of earshot of the library that Sebastian came upon the manor's other occupant. Yuri was standing stiffly in the foyer, blocking the main exit. He was waiting for Sebastian, that much was obvious. The demon considered how strangling Yuri would be just as easy as conversing with him. Why is everyone here determined to hold fast to their cheap human sentiment?
"Is there something you require, Yuri?"
"You lied."
"That is a demon's prerogative." Sebastian retorted smoothly.
The elder gentleman ignored this. "You told Sasha that God is not the source of white magic, yet you must know that God is the source of white magic. Why?"
Sebastian considered lying again, but Yuri would not be so easily distracted, and he needed to inspect the grounds of the estate for intruders before Alexandra went to bed. She'd only recently begun to sleep. "Our mistress is a stubborn one, as you are no doubt aware. Had she persisted in believing that God was the source of her magic, she would have never attempted a spell. In assuming that God abandoned her, she would have unknowingly relinquished her own power."
"You've done nothing but prove her right on that account! Regaining her magical ability might have rebuilt her faith, but you stole that opportunity. You're despicable, even by demonic standards. Tell me, what do you gain from playing with your food before consuming it?"
"Should she believe that God remains with her after all she has endured? God is nothing more than a tyrant, a sadistic chess master at best who punishes His pawns even when they obey His will. I'm cruel? Never forget, Yuri, that unlike God, I play fair at least." Yuri said nothing. The words became sharp, laced with venom and spite. "Would you have her agonize over His ineffable reasons for her suffering or would you have her live the short remainder of her life on her own terms?"
"A difficult choice, perhaps, but one that was not yours to make. You -" Yuri was cut short.
"Yes. I prevented the restoration of her faith, because blind faith in such a God is both foolish and perilous."
"And I'm to think that you care enough about Sasha to save her the agony of brooding over God's part in her suffering?"
The demon gave an incredulous laugh before turning on his heel abruptly. "Why not ask your God what to think? Perhaps, one day, He'll respond..."