The Riddle Of Magic

Chapter 9: Prismatic Resonance

It was an odd feeling coming into the office without Charlie's chipper voice to greet him. Usually the Hotel's sunny owner was already seated when Alastor deigned to arrive, though there was the odd occasion where she would rush in just after him.

There was really no true set starting time to his day; after all, there wasn't a lot for him to do, paperwork-wise.

Charlie saw to patrons' inquiries, he just paid the bills (and wouldn't dear Vagatha pitch an absolute fit if she knew how much money he'd technically sunk into this place! He might be paid a salary as compensation, but considering the effort he expended, it was rather like being paid from his own account).

He sat in his chair on his side of the desk, tapping his claws on the desk in boredom at the silence as he considered the previous evening.

It had started with such promise, though things had begun going downhill when Alastor had begun to prepare the spell the Laurence had "gifted" him.

The ritual should have been simple, but he'd had to compensate for the payment required to activate the spell. In the end, he'd only paid to receive the blasted spell, it still demanded tribute to actually use . And there was a hefty toll, the lifeforce of the being that was summoned being used as a catalyst. It did make its own kind of twisted sense, considering the spell technically had less essence to move in the end. But there was no telling how severe the drain would be.

Alastor was supremely displeased by this development (though in hindsight the deer demon knew it should have been anticipated). He made a mental note to make certain the pachyderm received his feedback as soon as The Nuisance was taken care of.

To be clear, he couldn't give any less of a shit about the other demon - the azure idiot could take a long walk off a short pier for all the Radio Demon cared.

But try as he might, Alastor couldn't help but see the arcane cost reflecting onto the princess who cared about the whimpering fool she was trying to help return to his own plane.

Her heart was far too gentle for this place. Too gentle for magic as well.

The idea of his charming demon belle being caught in a deal with another magician, however vaguely, sent a black current of jealousy surging in him, which of course the blue-faced shade laughed at. Alastor was well aware of how convoluted his reasoning was, and didn't need his lingering shadow to remind him, thank you very much.

He conjured his black chalice, and in the end had to drink four cups of dark to brute force the spell to its completion, nearly poisoning himself with magic.

"Such a powerful craft!" his shade mused, looking out the window in the direction of the other Overlord's territory. "A rival, to be certain. The TV will be jealous!"

Alastor barely heard him. Magic was thrumming in his blood, and it was taking much of his focus to reshorten his limbs. His antlers were branched to an almost uncomfortable length. Bloodied velvet draped from the obsidian tines, drooping into his vision as he leaned against his broadcast console, trying to steady his breathing and regain his composure.

"You might as well let her see you like this!" The shadow's blue eyes blazed. "Let her see how powerful our magic is!"

Alastor drew in a harsh breath. The lesson had been the furthest thing from his mind, his attention completely on being rid of The Nuisance.

He wasn't certain how grand an idea seeing the blonde demoness would be in this state. His blood was pounding, tension pulsing in all of his limbs.

"You know she's curious," the shadow purred. "She invited you to hunt her."