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Chapter 15: Contracts
🕑 Added 2023-03-06 21:39:15 +0000 UTCLeland’s eyes opened to a dull and dour, naked forest. Spindly trees made up the landscape, petrified, white and lifeless. There was not a hint of green, no leaves, no grass, only muted brows and bone whites. That didn’t mean the forest wasn’t alive, on the contrary in fact. Crows replaced the leaves, each branch housing dozens.
They watched Leland, their amethyst eyes rounded and large like thousands of security cameras watching a prisoner. Leland felt small in that moment, like when he drew on the walls of his house and his parents scolded him. Back then he felt he did nothing wrong, only expressing his creative abilities. Was it any different now? What caused him to be punished by his Lord?
He thought about the question while sitting up. The small movement caused a ripple through the crows, some flew off while others cawed with enthusiasm. Leland didn’t know what to think of that, other than they were alerting their Master of his awakening.
But still, the question of what he did wrong bothered him. In his eyes, he had done nothing that should have . Well, besides entering a restricted dungeon. He had a good reason for it, surely the Inquisitors wouldn’t assess him a fine or arrest him and the others. Surely the Witchhunters would only have praise for his and his teammate’s actions.
Still, the Lord of Curses last warning rang in his head, a simple reminder to watch out for the Witchhunters. Leland supposed he truthfully hadn’t attempted to stay away, but then again, he wasn’t looking for danger anyway. How was he supposed to know Icewillow was a Witch, or that he even was near Liontrunk? What was he supposed to do anyways? Let someone die because his Lord asked him not to?
That simply was not going to happen, Lord willing or not.
“I see defiance in your eyes, my son.”
Leland spun, finding the robed and wrinkled form of the Lord of Curses. She looked much the same as the last time they met, thin white hair that gently flapped against the slight wind, hunched back from years of improper posture, and eyes solid gray with speckles of purple stars.
“Maybe,” Leland replied. “Depending on how the Witchhunters see it.”
The Lord of Curses waved him off. “They will be overjoyed with your team’s actions. Icewillow led them around for the better part of three years.”
“But you said—”
“You should still be wary of them, yes, but in this case you only helped them. If anything, they may offer you a reward or even a recommendation.”
“A recommendation?”
“To the College of Inquisitors.”
Leland nodded slowly, his mind reeling. The College of Inquisitors was a highly renowned school of sorcery and swordplay. Some of the most famous individuals, the ones stories of daring adventures were written about, went to the college. It just so happened to be the one place Leland and the others desperately didn’t want to go.
“Ah,” the Lord of Curses smirked. “Defiance again. You and your pals wish not to follow in your parents footsteps. Quite bold of you, many would kill for the chance.”
Leland only shrugged. “The three of us have talked about it before. It's just not what we want to do. Be Inquisitors, I mean. Or Witchhunters for that matter.”
“Tell me, what do you know of the Witchhunters?”
That caused Leland to pause. “That they are elite Inquisitors, handpicked by the Queen similar to the Royal Inquisitors. They hunt dangerous criminals, often the ones that made a name for themselves with dark or vile magics.”
The old woman nodded along. “That is a good enough description for the conversation, but I implore you to ask your parents more about them in the future. The knowledge will only come in handy later in life.”
Again Leland paused. He leaned back a bit causing a wave of movement along the trees. A few crows cawed at this, but most simply titled their heads at his movement. Some even tried to emulate his posture, falling off their branches.
“Why do you need me to know about the Witchhunters?” he asked.
“Ah,” she said. “That leads to why I brought you here.”
Leland smirked. “I thought it was just because you were lonely.”
The Lord of Curses paused, her upper lip twitched.
“I’m kidding by the way.”
She squinted at him before sighing deeply. “Truthfully I was worried. Your battle with the Witch was well fought but too close for my comfort.”
Leland had to agree with that. “We won in the end.”
“That may be true but it does not defeat the importance that you risked your lives in such a way was not smart, even if it was the just thing to do.”
Leland didn’t have a response for that.
“My coven is small, Leland. A death within our ranks would be monumentally devastating for our kind. I would grieve for many years, I think of you all as my children in a way. Promise me you won’t do something that reckless again.”
Leland’s reaction was a memory of his parents scolding him for swimming through a rough part of a stream some years ago. They had talked about grieving his death in a very similar way and made him promise not to swim in that stream again. He, in the end, never broke that promise, something he wasn’t sure he would be able to mimic for the Lord of Curses.
Slowly he shook his head. “I don’t think I can. If someone is in danger, like that Onryo kid, and I am able, I will step in.”
The Lord of Curses sighed. “I suspected as much. Too selfless for your own good. Just promise to use your head, please?”
Leland saw something deep within her eyes? Sadness? Sorrow? And eternity of loss and spectating? Just how many loved ones had died while she watched over as a powerless god? Her stare bothered him, to the point where he mechanically nodded in agreement to her words, even though he knew he wouldn’t always be able to keep that promise.
“Good,” she hummed. “Well, I can’t say your path is not your own. Good things come to those who challenge and temper themselves. Which, again, brings us into why I decided to speak with you today. You have unlocked another portion of my Legacy, one that requires a warning.”
She motioned for Leland to remove his grimoire. He did, allowing it to flip to the newest entry under his information.
You have assisted in killing a Witch, William Icewillow. An appropriate reward has been added to your Legacy.
Crow Massacre increased to rank 4.
Curse of Collapse increased to rank 3.
He then looked at the updated spell pages.
Crow Massacre:
Summon 7 ethereal crows to attack a target for 1 minute.
Curse of Collapse:
Exhaust the target for 60 seconds, lowering their speed by 15%.
After seeing the new ranks of his spells, Leland noticed the next page was unstuck. Slowly he flipped the page, finding a new curse. His eyes widened as he read it.
Harbinger Halo:
Type: Curse (Self)
Rank: 1 (B)
Strike a dark accord with a presiding Lord, calling their aid.
Contract lasts for 60 seconds.
“What?” Leland asked, seeing the Lord of Curses smile.
It was gentle and warm, like a parent watching their child ride a bike for the first time. She spoke, “That is exactly why I wished to speak with you about it. The description is intentionally left vague simply because of how involved it is. We shall go through your first contract together. I’ve already spoken to the Lord of Magic, he is expecting your call.”
Leland’s mouth slowly opened. “What?” he asked more as a statement than a question.
“Do not worry, the Lord of Magic has agreed to come here, rather than pull you into his domain.”
“What?”
The old woman squinted. “Are you alright?”
“I- uh, yes. I’ll start now…” Leland couldn’t believe his ears. He, in all of his years of eager studying of unique and interesting magics, had never heard of a spell like this. Even when he was into child fables, nothing like this had made the stories.
Magic and knowledge came to his mind, spinning around him in a rush of purple particles. They took to his command, flying into his palm before taking on the form of a quill. His Legacy spoke to him, telling him the exact words to say.
“Lord of Magic, I humbly wish to strike a contract with you!”
His sentence ended with a hush. Silence befell the spindly forest, not even the crows dared caw. A small dot suddenly appeared, white like the very trees it appeared before. Suddenly the dot expanded and brightened, blinding Leland and forcing him to look away. A crash sounded, along with the fizzing of electrical mana. He slowly cracked his eyes open, finding a man wearing golden robes before him.
Leland’s eyes widened when he recognized the man before him. In every text book his parents made him study about magic, a drawing of the Lord of Magic was always within the pretext. They were rather accurate, he noted, except for the chin. In real life it was much more pointy.
“I don’t believe it,” the Lord of Magic spoke. “I concede my loss.”
He outstretched a hand, a bottle of sparkling gold liquid appeared within it a heartbeat later. The Lord of Curses’ eyes opened with greed as she quickly snatched the container from her brother’s hand. A group of nine crows swooped down, taking the bottle and flying far off into the distance.
When she saw Leland’s expression, the Lord of Curses spoke up, “He lost a bet.”
“Uh huh.” Was all Leland could say.
The Lord of Magic eyed the young man before him. “This is the Silvers’ child? I can see the resemblance.”
“Y-you know my parents?”
The Lord frowned. “Of course. They are two of the most renowned of my legacies. Why would I not know them?”
“I-uh—”
“Relax, child,” he turned to his sister. “Just like his mother. She was just as nervous when we met.”
“I can believe it,” the Curse Lord replied. “Mortals, am I right?”
The Lord of Magic snorted to that. “I find it endearing.”
“Of course you do.”
He sighed, turning back to Leland. “So, you wish to strike a contract with me?”
Leland looked to his Lord, who nodded. “Yes, please.”
“Alright, I shall give you the basic contract. When you are more powerful, we can renegotiate.”
“I-uh, thank you?”
“It is no worry. We are all bound by cosmic law to at least hear out a contract. No promise my siblings will agree to your terms.”
“W-what are your terms?” Leland asked.
“For you?” the Lord of Magic deliberated for a moment. “Say… you must offer one greater mana potion to a shrine of mine and another one in one year’s time.”
That was… easy? Leland thought. He had the lion parts in his pack back in the real world. It would only take a decent alchemist a few hours to distill the potion. And a few gold for the labor, he supposed.
“Alright, those terms sound acceptable… What do you offer me in return?”
The Lord of Magic squinted. “Leland, a word of advice. Be more proactive in your future contracts. You have just as much say in the terms as I do.”
“A-aright. I want the spell Lightning Bolt then.”
“Nope, can’t do it.”
“Fireball?”
“No.”
“Earthshake?”
The magic Lord sighed again. He rubbed his temples. “Uh, no. Contracts will be a bit more… passive. At least until you rank up your contract curse, after that, the sky's the limit I suppose. For now, I’ll offer you say ten percent mana regeneration.”
Leland frowned.
“Is that not good enough?”
“It's just that I don’t really use mana… curses don’t require the same amount as normal spells.”
The Lord of Curses spoke up at this point. “Just give him a potency increase.”
“Fine, five percent potency. Deal?”
Leland nodded vigorously. “Deal,” he said, causing his quill to write on an invisible paper. Glyphs and odd lettering filled the page before the Lord of Magic abruptly created a quill of his own. A moment later, the contract was signed by both parties.
“Just remember, young Warlock,” the Magic Lord spoke before disappearing. “Other Lords, while they can’t hurt you, might not be as forthcoming to your petition. They are required to listen, but if you do not show respect they could sick one of their legacies on you. Try creating positive relationships with legacies before contacting their Lord. Also, prepare for the climate of the Lord you speak with. The Lord of Magma’s domain is quite cold you see.”
Then the man disappeared.
Leland turned to the Lord of Curses. “Cold?”
She nodded. “He likes the cold. Regardless, you see why I warned you of Witchhunters, right? Taking a contract with a vile Lord may cause an issue.”
