The Chains of the Mind

II

Chief Adel's house was large in comparison to the rest of the residences in Altera. After all, it was able to house every one of us and still have room for more guests. The main dining room consisted of a long, rectangular table that stretched from nearly one wall to the opposite, made for huge feasts and banquets. It was there I sat alone one night as everyone slumbered peacefully upstairs, just after the destruction King Nasod and the Altera Core.

I chewed on my bottom lip as I replayed the battle in my mind. Despite King Nasod's huge bulk, he did have a weakness: his own Core, the Powertrain, vulnerable as long as the elemental El extractors were destroyed.

Eve, still in a stupor from being awakened after centuries, wasn't able to do much fighting, but she had knowledge to help us win. Once King Nasod's Powertrain was exposed, all you had to do was unleash the most powerful techniques you could manage.

In my mind's eye, I can still see the blaze of Elsword's blade, the explosion of Raven's nuke, Rena desperately trying to break through the steel of the contraption with her heavy kicks, and even Eve trying her best to direct our attacks. The sharp smell of sweat combined with molten metal permeated the air around the Core, filling my nose with its rancid stench.

I couldn't tell what came over me; it was like my mind was running on auto-pilot, the infinite mana and adrenaline running through my veins.

Power.

Magic.

Pure dark energy, throbbing to be released.

I realized then that it was either it or me. Would I be the one consumed or would I control it?

It was during that fight against King Nasod that I understood the true potential of dark magic, that I understood why it was feared by so many, that I understood why there were so few practitioners.

It was a gamble between power and madness, between ambition and decay.

And the gamblers never won.

Maybe it was stupid of me to start on this path without knowing the risks, now even stupider now that I know them. Dark magic didn't follow the conventional rules of creation—its creation is born from destruction. In other words, unlike elemental magic that focused on conjuring the elements, dark magic started with degeneration.

Degeneration of the mind and, inevitably, the body.

My hands shook on the wooden table as I understood the reality of the path I chose. It was a short path but one that twisted and twined into the depths of fate. I pressed my trembling hands to my forehead, taking a few deep breaths to steady myself and to get away from my distressed thoughts.

"You finally realized it, haven't you?" said a voice behind me. I was so distracted that I didn't notice the presence behind me or heard the door open.

"W-what?" My voice was as shaky as the rest of me, my throat dry with nervousness.

Chief Adel, despite his physically short stature, seemed to have the aura of a giant. Perhaps it came from his many years of living, his understanding of the world, a certain oneness. "Dark magicians are rare, aren't they?"

"I wouldn't know. No one told me anything outside of ancient legends and hearsay."

His calm demeanor didn't change. "You know, don't you?" A rhetorical question. "The power grows stronger until the user falls, the container consumed by the contents, like an acid eating its way through a flask."

He knew something. He hadn't spoken two words to me or approached me until now. I gave him my best unwavering stare, urging him on despite my rising impatience.

He obliged in his own way. "Did you hear about the demon invasion in Feita? I know you and your party intend to go help."

I felt my jaw clench before I answered bitterly. "And what of it? Do you want to come help us too?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't even if I wanted to. Old age has gotten the better of me, you see. I just don't have the energy I did a few decades ago." He sighed nostalgically. "On another note, perhaps your magic and the demons have some sort of connection? After all, dark magic was introduced to humans by something otherworldly, or so says the lore."

"Are you saying that I should run to Feita first because of some folktales created by mothers to keep their children behaved?"

He turned around at a speed that didn't quite fit with his age. "I'm saying that even folktales have a sliver of truth in them," was his reply as he hobbled away with his cane.

I had been to Feita before with my mentor back when I was still a beginner. Even then, it was rather gloomy, darkened skies even when it should have been morning. I never understood how the villagers could live with only glimpses of sunlight, how plants could flourish in such a dreary place.

But nature was hardy; it adapted in the same fashion the Feita villagers did.

What I thought of as a desolate landscape was actually the birthplace of many a nocturnal species. Plants depended not on sunlight but on moonlight and the occasional insect for nutrition. Some glowed faintly, alerting predators of poison while other nonvenomous species used the same technique to avoid being eaten. Creatures relied on sound rather than sight to navigate their way. It only made sense that such a unique environment would be the location of all things obscure.

"D-dark magic?" the ebony-haired secretary stuttered. "I-I'm sorry, but I d-don't think we w-would have any in-information about something as d-dangerous as that."

"I see. Thanks for your time." I turned my head down and tightened my grip around the cloak, praying that he didn't catch a good glimpse of my face. After sneaking around hoards of demons and who-knows-what-else, I finally came to a dead end. As far as I could tell from the snippets of conversation I overheard, the demons most likely spawned from a portal somewhere at the top of the temple.

And there was an endless amount of them, everyone said.

Too many monsters, too few soldiers, and even fewer supplies.

Every day, the village grew emptier as the populace fled to neighboring cities, hoping for better protection, or even further to avoid the invasion altogether. Neighborhoods became wastelands, bustling marketplaces turned dusty, and even governmental buildings were evacuated into camps closer to military protection.

Which worked to my advantage and against it. While I wasn't the most suspicious person around, I drew quite a lot of attention to myself by being an outsider and one of the few that wasn't fleeing. More often than not, I found myself going to the library, even sleeping there as the librarians never came back. Feita was truly a mysterious village, the library filled with books that I never came across in Hamel, which was rumored to have a copy of all publications in existence.

I spent days searching for anything relevant, skimming, reading, but to no avail. My fingers were covered with ink and my clothing was covered with dust from brushing off ancient references.

But it was heaven.

Words on a page were more familiar to me than anything else; I was closer to my books than I was to my own parents, my mentor, and even the friends I made on my journey. They swam across the page, just a few letters put together in different combinations to give meanings Reading, I found, kept my mind busy and warded off the nightmares.

Or maybe the day I would have to unavoidably leave was the actual nightmare.

Exhaustion fell heavy on my mind as my heavy eyelids struggled to remain open. When was the last time I slept, I didn't know. Time hidden among shelves didn't pass the same way it did outside. Sure, I fought off a stray demon here and there, but, outside of that, it had been only reading for me. At times, sounds of battle, the clang of steel and the incessant moaning of the wounded, would drift in and out, shifting in volume, like a fickle wind.

I blinked slowly, noting the page I was on. I glanced around the silent library briefly, making sure that I was absolutely alone before I gave in to slumber. I batted at the lamp switch before giving up and slumping over on the old, oaken desk.

Ooh, a newbie! Such a young one too.

I jerked awake but instead of finding myself in the library of Feita, I found myself in complete darkness, completely unlike the sunless atmosphere of the village. This darkness was heavy, permeating everywhere and pressing against my body like I was trapped in a tiny box.

"W-who's there?" I called out, not knowing if my voice could even penetrate through the omnipresent blackness. I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or not as I twisted my neck around to look for a source.

It is I, the greatest, most powerful, the scariest demon of all, Angkor! Suddenly, a huge, round form, two times taller than me and probably ten times wider, appeared in front of me. It stood on a pair of stocky legs and, in lieu of arms, had wings that seemed too small to be of any use beside decoration. Its yellow eyes glowed brightly in the blackness and were the only source of illumination I had.

It was like a bat, except a few times bigger and many, many times heavier.

"An-Angkor? Are you sure you're not his larger, chubbier uncle Fatkor?"

Hey, hey. Am I not mighty enough for you, damned flat chest?!

And it had sass too. I ignored the latter part of his sentence, but I could feel irritation building up within me. "If by 'mighty' you mean obese, then yes, you are mighty enough."

I can take on many different forms. Maybe this one will be to your fancy?

The bat-creature shrunk, its silhouette suddenly contracting into a form that was about as big as my head. And still too fat for its size.

"You're still kind of heavy around the middle, you know."

Oh, shut up. I'm getting old, you know. My metabolism isn't what it used to be. Back in the old days, I could swallow up entire villages or three and not gain a single ounce! But enough about me—you'll hear more about that. Do you wish to know why you're here?

"I'm guessing it's not to be harassed by an overweight chiropteran creature?"

If you're going to talk about my weight, I'll talk about your chest. Or lack of, rather.

A vein under my eye twitched as I crossed my arms in front of me. "Fine, get on with it."

I'm a demon born from the depths of hell. You're a mage practicing magic that originates from the depths of hell. Wouldn't we be quite a pair together?

"So you're suggesting that we work together?"

Maybe working together isn't quite the right way to phrase it. A symbiotic relationship, perhaps?

"I get the feeling that there's a catch to this." In all the legends I read about demons and humans, humans inevitably became the victims as they were used merely for the sake of the demons' goal. Was I about to become demon fodder too?

Of course there is. Nothing in life is free. It's just a small contract, and I promise I won't eat you. You don't look delectable enough, not enough meat.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Now what does this contract entail?" My curiosity was getting the better of me. Why would a demon need my help when it obviously was powerful enough to be destroying entire towns?

Just two things. Carry me around in this form in the human world when I need you to. And also, wear clothing that I approve.

"That's it?"

That's it.

"Can't you find anyone for something as simple as that? And what am I getting out of this?"

The expression on Angkor's face hadn't changed at all since the beginning of our meeting. His empty, golden eyes were still staring, unblinking. His mouth was twisted into a permanent smile. But his voice definitely conveyed amusement.

But anyone isn't you, my dear dark mage. I can feel the overwhelming power that flows through you. I can help you control it, so it doesn't take over you like it did to others who walked your path. Simply put, I can be a buffer between the degenerative capabilities of your powers and your magical output as long as you agree to the terms. Do you accept?

"Wait, wait, wait, why are you, most powerful, most intimidating demon Angkor, even deigning to help a mere human like me? What's your goal in this?"

Fun. You humans are such interesting creatures. I get amusement, you get better control over your power and maybe even more power. What do you say? This isn't an offer you get every day, you know.

Carefully, I weighed the pros and cons in my head.

Pros: I win the gamble, I might get stronger

Cons: I lose the right to choose what to wear, I carry him around

Seemed like an obvious choice if you asked me.

"Fine, I accept the terms of the contract."

Good, good. Now get rid of those frumpy articles and wear something more fashionable!

"Fr-frumpy? Excuse me?! I happen to like what I'm wearing right now."

If I had it my way, every girl would be out in public in a skimpy bikini, but alas that would be impractical.

"Are you actually a demon or a just a fat pervert?"

Hey, it's not like you would look good in a swimsuit. You have nothing to show. How about a tube top or a bandeau? That might give you some much needed oomph, you—

I extracted my fist from Angkor's soft form before he could continue. "If you're so picky, why not just give me something you like? You're a supposedly strong demon; do something."

Then don't complain when you see it! He floated away into the darkness, leaving me alone.

"Hold on, let's establish some boundaries first!" I called out, reaching out for his disappearing form.

I awoke with a jolt, shivering slightly. I didn't remember it being this cold before.

Good morning! A smiling bat figurine flitted in front of me, and I realized that what happened wasn't a dream.

"Oh, great. You're actually real."

And you're looking absolutely fantastic today. I took the liberty of doing your hair while you were sleeping too. I must say, for a thousand year old demon, I have great fashion sense.

Immediately, I reached up to my hair where two pigtails were secured by fabric ribbons. I suppose I can live with this.

Then I looked down to my clothing.

"A. N. G. K. O. R." I elongated his name, feeling my face heat up in rage. In place of my usual long sleeved shirt, skirt, and knee-high socks were a shrug, a top that barely covered my decent parts, a short skirt that flared out toward the back, and leggings. "I'm going to kill you!"

Forget fantastic; you're looking absolutely demonic this morning. At least I covered up your legs, though garters and tights aren't really my thing. His happy-go-lucky tone hadn't changed since last night as he fluttered out of my reach. I can't wait to see how you'll explain this to everyone.

"The contract might say that I needed to carry you around, but it never said I had to carry you around in one piece," I snarled as I lunged at him.

A/N: Because you can't have Angkor without some much needed humor.

Next part should be the very last unless I decide to extend it some more.
And then I'll have my first finished story in this fandom. Likewhatomg.

Maybe a bonus chapter for some extra drabbles.