The pact

Chapter 1

It's better to dodge her attention, but if that proves inevitable, it is advisable to ensure that you at least remain in her good graces. Such is her reputation among the other street kids. She likes it. Keeps the plebeians at bay. At the ripe age of 20, she is one of the oldest in a stratum that the bougies of the city call slum dwellers. Not that they know anything. Blind to anything they can't touch and see. Only good for the furniture they dump when their boredom forces them to renovate the house for the second time in a year.

She stays away from the other adepts too, their magical powers far inferior to hers. Only Gullvi can match her, but even that old lady isn't as well-versed in the secrets as her.

No, Milady likes her life of solitude. Nothing can beat the silence and a home that doesn't stink of glue.

Today had been an ordinary day. She'd finished a brew that she'd delivered, began another, and read a book about a particularly difficult spell. Now, she is back in her basement, the abandoned building she'd made into a home. Or, if you were one of those debt-ridden dumb-asses who slaved your life away just to be able to afford a single-room flat, you wouldn't call it a home. Not that she cared. It has running water, but only cold, and the electric stove will give you shocks if you aren't careful. The furniture is scavenged from what the hipsters of the city had left behind. Only the mattress could do with an upgrade, but maybe Rat knew of someone she could get it from.

All-in-all, it had been a catch, finding this place. Sure, you had to enter through the window since the door was buried under fallen rubble, but once she had realized its position to the ley lines, she had decided to keep it. She'd cast every spell she knew for protection, taken her suitcase and moved in. That was 6 years ago.

Now, do I hear you asking about the spells? Superstitious nonsense, you mumble. Well, then you are as blind as the bougies of the city. Let's just say that the owners still argue about who has the right to the house, and the court cases have lasted for over 10 years. She plans to keep it that way.

It is falling dark outside, and as the city falls asleep, she climbs out the window and sets out to deliver the spell she's been working on that day. She knows of the tales the other street kids tell about the night, but it is none of her concern. After all, she hasn't grown to become one of the most powerful adepts she knows for nothing.

It is a quiet night, as the city always is. She enjoys the empty streets, having taken a dislike to people at a young age. Commoners with mindless hobbies, or even worse, glue-sniffing. They were only good for doing trades and scoring deals.

She rounds a corner, thinking about the spell she's read about today and wondering if Rat would be a good target to try it on, when she looks up and stops dead in her tracks. A bit away, there is a man standing. A cloaked man, dressed in black. Moments later, he is gone, and she is left staring at an empty street. She knows of him. Knows about the tales told about his appearance. And it's not a good sign. The world is changing. She turns around and hurries back home, locking the window behind her.

She throws the backpack in the corner and picks up the tarot deck lying on the chair. Her hands are shaking as she shuffles the cards and asks the question. She hasn't picked up the cards in a long while. You don't do readings lightly, and any attempt to see the future will affect it. But a sign like that cannot be ignored. She deals out the cards and leans over.

Tower, Resurrection, Lovers, Star, and the Chariot. The answer is deeper than she'd wished for, their meaning difficult to interpret. She flips open the book next to her and reads it. Yes, there is action to be taken. She turns the page. But what kind? She puts the book down, gathers the cards and stares at the wall. The world is changing, the destiny is set in motion. She knows nothing will be the same, now when the Shadow Man has entered this world.

It unsettles her. Even she knows there are paths you shouldn't walk, roads you should never take. Because the power serves you, and you serve the power. And you might never be the same once you've gone too deep.

There was only one thing to do. It was time to visit Gullvi.

She wakes up at an unholy hour the next day, stumbles over to the kitchen, stirs instant coffee into a plastic cup of cold water, and gulps it down. What pains must you endure when you possess wisdom beyond the rabble. She tosses the cup in the sink, takes her backpack and climbs out the window.

The old lady lives on the other side of town. Known as The Priestess, she is a matriarch whose magical knowledge has been passed down through generations. Milady met her on her first day in the city, and you would think you would hear some well-chosen words about her, but no. Despite the weak tea she always serves, she has come to earn the closest to respect Milady has ever afforded anyone.

She walks up the small front yard and knocks on the door. It's custom to have your toes frozen to bits or the gap in the neck sunburned by the time Gullvi manages to get to the door. But today she opens it before Milady even manages to pick up her notebook from the backpack.

"It didn't take you long. Come inside."

Gullvi turns and walks back into the house, and Milady is left staring at her crooked back. This is a new level of psychic powers, even for Gullvi.

She follows her into the house, which has thankfully always been absent of the usual old lady smells of stale cooking and laundry liquid. Gullvi might be old, but there are some things she's stayed away from. She gestures at the sofa, and Milady has barely sat down when Gullvi asks,

"So, what have you seen?"

Milady stares at her. How does she know?

"I saw the Shadow Man."

Gullvi gasps.

"So it's true?"

"What have you seen?"

"I saw his shadow in my divination."

"Shit..."

"So it has begun then. The destiny is set in motion."

Milady sits quietly for a moment before saying,

"I asked the cards for clarity, but they...."

Gullvi interrupts her.

"You tried to look at the destiny of the shadow walker!? What have you done, you silly girl!?"

"It was only a quick spread, Milady says, but Gullvi shakes her head at the foolishness."

"So what do we do?", Milady asks after a while. "The cards talked about action, but I don't understand what we need to do."

Gullvi takes a miserable breath.

"It means we need to cross the worlds."

"Cross the worlds!?"

Gullvi nods.

Milady stares out the window. This is bad. She's read about crossing the worlds, of course. You don't become an adept without encountering the tales of the Guardians. And for that precise reason, you also know to stay the hell out of it. Not that they are given any choice, now. Once you've seen the Shadow Man, there is no turning back.

"We can't be hasty in this, Gullvi says, interrupting her thoughts. We need to come out alive. We need to prepare."

Milady notices Gullvi's use of the word "we" and she winces. She had hoped that, as the oldest and most experienced of them, she would take it upon herself to fulfil the deed. But it looks like she's counting on Milady to come.

"Take this."

Gullvi pushes a paper bag in her hands.

"You'll need it for the preparations. You know what to do. We'll talk more next week."

She stands up and ushers Milady out the door, and before she knows it, she is standing on the side walk and the door shuts behind her. She had hoped the old witch would have given more reassurance. It's not every day you get to know that you will cross the worlds as the first one in over eighty years.

She opens the paper bag and looks inside. A small silver key lies at the bottom.

"Shit. This is what you want me to do!?"