The Riddle Of Magic

Chapter 50: Breath of the Infinite

Alastor burst out laughing at the pale demoness' reply. "Hah! That's quite the knee-slapper, dear!" he chortled.

It was the longest he'd laughed in a long, long while, and he was still chuckling when he took another drink of his coffee. Rosie wasn't much of a magician, though she had a subtle arcane talent, stronger than many sinner demons. But considering his history there would have been no reason at all for her to be within a league of him, let alone running in the same social circles, if she was the sort capable of such a powerful ritual as the one Valentino had called upon.

His old companion's pale face was even, the thin smile remaining on her features as she watched him quietly, her body relaxed and still.

"You?" he scoffed.

"Yes," she replied, as casually as if scheduling for tea.

The cheer within him began to cool as it became clear she wasn't joking, and the Radio Demon felt his rear fangs crack from how hard his jaw clenched. "You?" he gasped out, feeling as if a heavy boot was stepping on his chest. "But... spirits' sake, why?"

Rosie's eyes were black as the void and as dark as her smile, and the deer demon suddenly felt as though he was looking at a complete stranger.

"That's not really my place to say. Not all can be as you are, Alastor," the Lace Overlord replied.

The light of the room began to dim, and he drew in a breath, his blood stirring for war as his claws elongated. He felt the twitching of other presences around them, as innumerable spectres drifted into view, coming out from every nook and cranny, surrounding them both.

"As I am?" the Radio Demon demanded.

"Indeed!" the pale demoness replied. "One who would learn all the dark would teach."

His shadow manifested, curling around the deer demon as he sat ram-rod straight, both feet firmly planted on the floor. He called his arcane energy, readying Phase to chain along with other combat runes, though the spectre in his thoughts seemed still calm, not noting any indication of danger as it watched the other figure.

"I'm hardly the subject of this," Alastor hissed. "This is about you. Countless demons will be caught up in the fallout of this ritual!"

"Oh, that's where you're very much mistaken! This has been about you for a very, very long time. And for the record, I know precisely how many there are - three hundred and thirty-seven, including Valentino himself," Rosie chortled darkly, fangs gleaming. "It's nothing, in the end, it hardly matters. It's a mere pittance to the souls you'll hold in your sway."

The Radio Demon's eyes flashed as his pupils narrowed. "Careful now," he growled, antlers extending savagely.

The Lace Overlord didn't flinch. "There's no prophecy needed for that, darling boy. The dark knew the moment you set foot in that hotel. How the Sea shuddered when you did. Did you not sense it?"

She had never spoken of the Umbral Sea before.

Nobody had.

Nobody knew about it, except for himself, and Charlie, and the spectres.

The Radio Demon's heart was pounding as his antagonized sneer left his face in his shock. "You're... like me?"

Rosie's own skeletal grin faded as they beheld each other openly for the first time. "Like you?" she shook her head. "No, Alastor. I do not believe there is another like you in all of creation. Though we both made the deal, and looked into the pitch, what we saw there was very different. Most would look upon the abyss, and see it as a master." Her eyes drifted closed, as if in reverence. "I was no different. I looked upon the face of the darkness and called it 'Lord'... but you, dear Alastor," Her eyes opened, and he glimpsed a faint glow there that was neither blue, nor green. "You looked upon the face of the dark, and called it 'kin'."