GRIX’AGAMAL SE’PHET EZZODON

Grix’Agamal Se’Phet Ezzodon felt the pull too late to do anything about it and found him in a torch lit basement with an arcane sense of dark décor.

The glyphs painted on, he assumed in someone’s or something’s blood, the concrete floor were there to keep him confined in the summoning circle.

Oh great, another twenty something wannabe loser sorcerer. He really must spend the money and get some better protection spells on his apartment in Oblivion, he thought to himself. This was getting ridiculous. Being summoned by half ass practitioners, of the so called dark arts, always annoyed him.

Grix straightened his clothes and looked around the basement room for the idiot that had summoned him. First of all he wanted to know how the human got his name. You just can’t summon a demon, or angel for that matter, without their name and the names were not widely known to everyday folk.

Then he spotted the human staring at him in shock, masking taped horn-rimmed glasses, dark greasy hair that hadn’t seen a brush in days and the typical wide mouth look of shock of everyone who had summoned the demon before. This one wore a much better version of a sorcerer robe, but the humanity stink still stung Grix’s nostrils. Now the demon was not only annoyed but disgusted as well.

“What in all that is unholy do you think you are doing human,” rang Grix’s voice in guttural demon language. Then Grix remembered and switched to human, with hopefully the right dialect. He’d try English first.

“What in all that is unholy do you think you are doing, said Grix.

The human had jumped at the demon tongue but the human’s look changed to happiness when Grix realized that he had guessed correctly. The human spoke English. Grix was glad he hadn’t listened when the demon academy had tried to tell him that learning the human languages was a waste of time.

“Oh my gods, it worked, the summoning spell worked,” the Norbert Robinson said.

Grix watched as the lank haired male, in robes that stunk of some sort of food, came to the edge of the circle. Grix readied himself because if the human crossed the glyphs it would nullify the containment circle and Grix would be able to snatch the idiot and kill him. Or should he keep the human and bring the human to Oblivion? He might make a decent slave. Well, once he was given a bath.

Ready to pounce without looking like it Grix continued berating the idiot.

“I was in the middle of something really important and I sure don’t have time while you play sorcerer.” Grix adjusted the lace cuffs on the white silk shirt he wore under his dark blue crushed velvet jacket. With the mother of pearl buttons, don’t forget those beauties. Grix had to bargain hard at the market to get them at a decent price. You can only get mother of pearl from the third dimension where humans lived.

Grix watched as the human stopped at the circle and stared at him. The way the human looked started to make Grix feel like an animal on display. Oh, he so wanted this human to play with and make him pay for this degradation.

Norbert Robinson, pushing his glasses up, was very careful not to cross the glyphs, even holding the long robes with one hand while he leaned in a bit to study Grix. Grix, for his part, just waited for it to happen like it always did in the past. Humans were stupid and especially so called witch or sorcerer humans because they thought their magic spells could protect them from the things they summoned.

Well, it depended on what you summoned if you wanted to play it safe and you had better know what you are doing.

Grix looked at the man again and noticed the book still clutched in his hands. He wasn’t sure but it looked like a grimoire, and an old one by the look of the tinged edges on the pages.

Then Grix got an idea, an evil idea.

“I’m pretty impressed, actually. Not too many humans can someone a demon of my caliber,” Grix said, acting nonchalant by straightening out the lace on his shirt cuffs.

Grix noticed the man looked angry by the tightening of his grubby hands on the old book. He could almost see the title of the grimoire but the human held it too close to his stinky robes.

“Yeah, I showed those idiots. I told them I could do a summoning. And Maxwell Smith thinks he’s special. All he got was a grouchy costie and it spit fire balls at him and singed his clothes. I summoned an actual talking demon. Ha! Wait till I tell the professor.”

Grix watched Norbert move to a camcorder set on a tripod and turn it on before Norbert placed the grimoire on the desk, a.k.a. altar. Grix was able to see the name now and got excited. Amadeus Grimoire? Was it really an Amadeus? The famous sorcerer had only created three grimoires in his whole entire life and Grix knew where the other two were.

“Yes, you are a powerful sorcerer. A costie is only a first level demon and I am a fourth level demon. And not just anyone can summon a fourth level demon.”

Grix watched the look of satisfaction and pride cross the human’s face. Sometimes it was just too easy.

The demon pretended to be impressed and gave the human the up and down look, putting his hand to his chin as if in thought.

“You know what, I just thought of something,” said Grix. “I’m looking for a student right now. My last one passed all his finals and graduated. And as powerful as you are I am sure I could teach you a few things to make even that professor look like an idiot.”

Norbert Robinson, a.k.a. Lord Falgor, stared at Grix in awe.

“You would do that,” said Norbert?

“I am a firm believer in helping good talent, and you, my good man, have a lot of talent. With a few lessons you could be a great sorcerer. I can even see you as powerful as a High Mage.”

High Mage, thought Norbert? There were only a few every few generations. He could be a High Mage and that professor would be working for him. And the first thing he would do as High Mage would be to strip Maxwell Smith of all his power.

“Wait, how much will this cost me? How much do you charge?”

Grix laughed, pretending to be amused. “We don’t have money where I come from. We don’t use money like the humans. And gold has no worth to us like it does the elves. All I would need was a contract between you and I stating the terms of our agreement. Me, to teach you everything I know, and you to learn everything I teach you.”

“I wouldn’t have to pay you a fee to get the lessons?”

Grix pretended to be insulted. “My good man, in my world we are known by our reputations (which was sort of true) and to teach students give us a way to improve our status and our reputations (which was not true at all). By taking you on as a student my peers will be slightly jealous to know I have such a talented person such as you as a student.”

“So what do we do now,” asked Norbert, er, Lord Falgor?

Grix smiled, trying to keep the triumph off his face.

“Well, first of all, let’s do away with this wonderful circle. You must give me the recipe for the substance you used to make the glyphs. I am impressed with the attention to detail.”

Norbert beamed with pleasure, his ego raising a few notches.

“That’s easy, I found them in this book that I bought real cheap at a dingy old bookstore,” he said patting the book on the table.

“Book, oh good. You can bring it with us when we go to Oblivion.”

“Oblivion?”

“Why yes, Oblivion, my hometown which is on the other side in another dimension.”

“Another dimension?”

“Yes, I will take you on a tour once we conclude our scholastic contractual business.

Norbert looked real curious, now, and greedy. Grix could tell by the look on the human’s face.

“But first things first, you must drop the circle so I can bring you the contract that we have to sign to solidify our partnership, me to teach and you to learn.”

“Oh yeah, right,” and Norbert waved his hands in front of Grix and the shield fell with a loud boom.

“What are you doing down there Norbert,” said Norbert’s mother through the locked basement door.

“Nothing mother, just some work on a project for school. I will be up in a minute.”

“You had better not be making a mess in my basement you turd,” his mother said, they could hear her stomping off upstairs.

“Oblivion sounds better already,” said Norbert looking disgusted with his head titled up to the basement ceiling.

“Yes, once we leave for Oblivion you can move in with me. I have such a nice apartment with just the room for you.”

Grix tried to keep calm. He was this close to getting a free slave AND the last copy of the Grimoire of Amadeus. He didn’t want to spook this stupid human before the contract was signed.

Taking his hands Grix flicked the dust off his velvet jacket that had flown up when the shield dropped. This human was disgusting, he thought to himself when he looked around at the messy basement room. Well, once he got his familiar and slave back to Oblivion the human would be cleaning a LOT, among other things during his contractual time.

Reaching into his jacket Grix pulled out a rolled up parchment document tied with blood red ribbon with a seal that would be used to seal the document once the signatures were added to the contract.

Taking the document over to the coffee table in front of the raggedy sofa Grix placed it on the table. Snapping his fingers he conjured a quill and an inkwell that popped next to the document. The trash, pizza boxes and take out containers, that had been sitting on the table disappeared. Norbert laughed when he saw the magic Grix used.

“I want to learn that,” he said, greed shining in his eyes.

“In time Norbert, in time, but first you must learn the basics. Come sit down and let’s sign the contract to our new endeavor.”

Grix snapped his fingers again and an ornate chair appeared out of thin air and the demon sat down. Indicating to the human to have a seat on the dingy sofa Grix unrolled the parchment.

It unfurled with a flick of his fingers and lay open for the human to see the fancy calligraphy. Grix knew you had to impress if you wanted to get what you wanted to get and this fool was an easy target.

“So here is the deal we will sign tonight as partners. I will teach you everything you know and you will do as I say until the contract time is up in five years.”

“Five years? That’s a long time,” said Norbert.

Grix looked him in the eyes over his rose colored glasses he had snapped into existence.

“That is the short term. A human with your ability will be very able to learn everything I know before the usual fifteen years. You are very talented so I thought we only needed five years.”

Norbert beamed at being told he was very talented.

“What if there is more to learn, will you show me that, too.”

“My dear good man, we can always extend the contract if both parties agree. That is in volume twenty-five, part three, and paragraph three thousand one.”

Grix unrolled more of the contract until he came to that part but there was so much of the contract, volumes and paragraphs, until Norbert decided he had seen enough.

“Never mind I can read it later. Where do I sign?”

Grix smiled, now it was time for the finish, and looked Norbert straight in the eyes mesmerizing the human so he wouldn’t be able to move.

“Do you, Norbert Robinson, of twenty-five Elm Lane, the basement, agree to the terms set forth in this contract set before you? And do you Norbert Robinson, of twenty-five Elm Lane, the basement, agree to follow the terms until such time as the contractual time is up or both parties agree to end said contract?”

Norbert gulped once, the room had gotten warmer and staring into the demon’s eyes was unnerving. He nodded his head in agreement.

“No, no, you have to say the words. I, Norbert Robinson, of twenty-five Elm Lane, the basement, agree to the terms set forth in the contract laid before me until such time as the contract time ends or both parties agree to end the contract.”

“I, Norbert Robinson, of twenty-five Elm Lane, the basement, agree to the terms set forth in the contract laid before me until such time as the contract time ends or both parties agree to end the contract,” and as soon as Norbert said the last word a prick of the finger, making Norbert jerk from the slight pain, causing a drop of blood to hit the bottom of the contract first page where the signatures were printed, the blood signing his name.

Also, at the same time, a brand was placed on his left ankle and left wrist, the flesh burning hot, a smell like popcorn. The brand did a few things. One, it told everyone who the human slave belonged too, and two; the human slave could be transferred safely through the dimensional portals without being torn apart by the molecules. It also provided a built in GPS so the owner always knew where his property was located.

Norbert screamed a high pitched shrill when the brands burnt into his skin. “What the hell?”

“That is to help you move through the dimensional portals.”

“I didn’t see that in the contract?”

“You didn’t? Oh, what a shame, it’s right there in red blood at the bottom of the page.”

Norbert scowled at the demon and took a look at the bottom of the first page.

“That print is too small to read.”

“Really? Well it is there so now you are mine.”

Grix rolled up the parchment and tied the ribbon around it before melting the seal across the ribbon with a finger. Grix’s symbol, the same as the brands, appeared telling anyone who saw it who the contract belonged, too.

“You didn’t tell me there would be branding involved,” whined Norbert.

Grix pretended surprise. “You didn’t ask, now didn’t you?”

Putting the contract in his jacket the demon walked over to the Grimoire and picked it up.

“This will be a wonderful addition to my library.”

“Hey, that’s my book,” whined Norbert.

Grix just smiled and snapped his fingers.

The as soon as the last sound of the demon snapped fingers stopped reverberating the demon was gone, the book was gone, and so was Norbert Robinson, Lord Falgor, of twenty-five Elm Lane, the basement.

The smell of burning metal, and wisps of smoke still coming from the pile of melted camcorder, hung in the air of the dank musty room.