This story is copyright of Lisa X Lopez and Tori Hamlin
Author's Note & Acknowledgement:
I want to thank my awesome co-author, Hamlin, for lending his dark noncon/reluctance twist to this story, as well as some awesome magical battle scenes. I hope you'll enjoy this first part. This installment covers chapters nine and ten of ten. The complete story of The Demon Chain is a 28K word novella that follows the story of Jalissa, as she is forced to serve the dark desires and will of the demon, Succubi.
Synopsis:
Thousands of years ago, seven ancient demons of incredible power were sealed away within seven magical artifacts. The demon chains were forged to contain their evil powers, but even the greatest of magic couldn't harness them fully. In time, the chains passed into legend and were forgotten by most.
In the ruins of Dar'Kasha, Jalissa hunts for lost treasures. She's a pilferer, a scavenger, wandering the world in search of artifacts to sell. When she uncovers a hidden chamber, the treasure she finds within is one that will exact a terrible price on her, instead.
Within this forgotten room, in the dusty fingers of a desiccated skeleton, is a gem-laden chain that glows with its own magical light. The thing seems to sing to her, to call to her, urging her to bear it from the darkness. What Jalissa doesn't realize, is that she's just carried forth an ancient evil. And it's one that's begun to consume her soul from the moment she touched it.
Now, she's in a race against time, fighting the demon's compulsions and her own temptation. She finds herself in the company of a less-than-competent mage, with the demon's power growing as it uses her body to feed. Before it can consume her, she'll need to find a way to free herself from its vile hold or perish in the attempt.
Chapter Nine: The College
Bandric found a haggard and distraught Jalissa, huddled next to the horses in the stables the next morning.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said. "What are you doing out here?"
Jalissa looked up at him with eyes dark and swollen.
"It has me," she whispered. "It has me. I'm the monster."
Bandric looked around and then knelt next to her, placing his hand on her arm. She recoiled, scrabbling back.
"Don't! I'll kill you, too! I'll kill them all!"
Bandric looked hurt but didn't move. He did something with his hands and a watery, wavering image hovered in the air.
"That... thing is the monster. Not you," he said.
The image in the air was of them, on the cart, on the day they'd set out from Elenthia.
"I have a preservation spell," he explained. "It's a simple thing, as most of mine are. I'm not good for much else. I thought it important to preserve this moment because it was one of the few things I never wanted to forget. This, Jalissa, is you."
In the image, she was laughing at something, one of his silly tricks most likely. The image was impossible to reconcile, inside herself, with the broken and beaten thing that she'd become.
"I killed her," Jalissa hissed. "I killed a girl last night, Bandric. She was young. I took everything she was and everything she had the chance to be. I... I tried to kill myself for it."
His face became a pallor as white as his hair. Jalissa met his eyes.
"It wouldn't let me die. I can't die!" she hissed.
"Then we need to free you of it," he said.
She laughed and choked on a sob.
"Free? There is no freedom. There's only death, only the monster, and I'm it."
"Get on the horse, Jalissa. We need to go. Quickly," he commanded. "If there's any chance, don't you owe it to them all to try?"
Despite her weariness and her hopelessness, the words rang true. If she sat here, the demon would simply exert its will, kill again, grow stronger, and then torture her with guilt until she gave in. With Bandric, there was still a chance that she might stop it. No matter how slim those odds were, she had to try. She took his outstretched hand, pulled herself up, and mounted the horse.
***
Today, there were no tricks or banter. There were no stories told and few words spoken as the two of them rode harder and faster than they ever had. They stopped to rest for an hour, only when Jalissa fell asleep in her saddle. Ignoring the soreness and their aches, they rode on after the rest and reached the city of Brille at dusk.
Unlious's capital city was a massive sprawl cradled in a low valley and nestled on the banks of a great river that spanned the length of the continent. At the heart of the city stood the College of High Sorcery, itself a gigantic campus of squat buildings. At the center of those stood a crystal tower, the seat of the mage's council, and the center of modern magic.
Jalissa hardly spared a glance at the structure as Bandric gained them entry to the campus. Her sense of adventure seemed to have been stripped away from her as everything else she was had been. Bandric felt sadness at the sight of her pale face and dark eyes. All of the life and curiosity that he'd come to care for these past days seemed to have been devoured by the evil that plagued her soul.
The tower held wonders that few ungifted people would ever lay eyes on and, before today, Jalissa would have been ecstatic at this opportunity. However, as Bandric led her into the place, she was only capable of giving it the most cursory glance. What did all these wonders matter, when soon she'd cease to be? Bandric led them onto a gleaming platform of blue crystal. At a word, the platform ascended, carrying them up the spire and depositing them on an upper floor.
The halls were the same crystal, glittering in the light of ethereal torches mounted in sconces on the walls. The flames within were magical, casting a pale luminescence throughout the corridors as they walked. They passed by other mages, each of them robed in different colors. The mages gave Bandric curt nods and looked at Jalissa with suspicion. Finally, they came to a heavy, iron-bound door and Bandric laid his hand on the wood. It glowed, briefly, and a moment later it opened of its own accord.
A rotund man with a ring of gray hair stood behind a table, which was covered in stacks of books and neatly-tied scrolls. He wore black robes, the symbol of dark magic, but his eyes were not unkind as he looked up from whatever he'd been reading.
"Bandric," he said, his voice deep and powerful, belying his appearance.
"Amos," Bandric greeted him back.
They clasped wrists and then the man turned to Jalissa.
"Lady?"
