I weighed the pot of ink in my hand. Crimson, too crimson to be authentic blood, it had a foreboding colour. I gave it a couple of shakes, to make sure the particles were evenly distributed, before putting it on the table and pulling the glass seal off.
To do so without spilling ink all over myself may have been the hardest part of the entire procedure I was helping out with. The lid sat vacuum tight, so overcoming it was a matter of force that could easily set the liquid inside into motion. With a trained hand, I managed to overcome this hurdle and access the ink.
"Can't they store these with a screwing mechanism?" I complained, after putting the lid aside on the table. It was a uniquely shaped wooden top, with a frame integrated that perfectly fit the parchment that Willt had placed there. A light shone weakly through the yellowish paper, outlining a summoning circle of moderate complexity.
"Haven't you paid attention in alchemy class?" my friend asked me, his tone quiet out of respect for our location. The 'demon library' of Welldark's Communications Branch was tucked away in a corner, where this part of the campus was closest to the Magic Branch. The seven shelves stacked thirteen rows high, under the ceiling. Grimoires in red and black leather, with the occasional other colours dedicated to various sins, filled them. There was a reading corner and a summoning circle preparation corner. The latter of which, we were currently at.
I had no idea why demon summoning had been assigned to the segment of the campus that primarily dealt in linguistics. Perhaps because making deals with demons was an effort of such fine wording. Still, I felt like this was like putting a platypus into an aviary just because it had a beak.
"How is the form of the lid important to the esoteric value of the ink?" I asked, grabbing one of the brushes that was provided with the table. Willt did not answer my question immediately, he had to keep his hand steady while drawing a summoning circle of much greater complexity.
"It's because the lid makes it difficult - you could spill the red ink all over yourself if you weren't careful," my warlock friend explained to me. "It's a tiny bit of symbolism. If you're not careful, you could make the 'power' you wish to 'bring forth' ruin what you currently have. Be thankful that the ink will only ruin your current set of clothes."
I looked at my shirt. "Would red on red be a sin enough to power this symbolism, or would it be more effective if I changed into a shirt of virgin white? It is widely known, after all, and across all worlds, that demons have great appreciation for the sacrifice of virginity."
"Only if you dwell in the domains of greed, pride, or lust," Willt responded in a serious tone and raised his brush from the parchment. "Are you going to distract me all day or will you actually help me?"
"Truly, you are one that dances with demons, slave driver that you are," I grumbled and looked at the small stack of circles that I had already finished. Next to it was a stack twice as tall and twice as complicated. I may have known my way around a summoning circle, absorbing the necessary knowledge by cultural osmosis, but Willt was on a whole different level.
I let the brush soak in the ink and then got to drawing. Following the lights that shone through the parchment was an easy task for someone with a steady hand. That we had to do this by hand, at least, I could understand. A summoning circle could not be printed, it required the touch of sapience to properly work. If it had been any other way, demons would have had to deal with confusing calls a great many times. In a practically infinite universe, even the tiniest chance for a randomly occurring summoning was guaranteed to happen at an irksome frequency.
He who created this plane of existence certainly had a lot of good ideas about putting it together.
I was helping Willt with his side job. I had little better to do during a Tuesday morning and I hadn't been able to spend a lot of time with my best friend recently. The reasons for that were obvious, as both of us were pursuing our fields of interests and the growing of our Anomalias. Male camaraderie was a fantastic bond, but the continuation of sapient life required that the bond to women typically trumped it. Importantly, I would have been lying if I said I preferred spending time with Willt over spending time with Esther. The Queen of my Anomalia was just so witty and she wanted the best for me, even if that meant she got in my way at times. Aclysia, similarly, was gorgeous company. She had the rare gift of holding an engaging conversation without saying much at all.
Time spent with Willt would grow shorter as our studies progressed. In less than a year's time, our current, shared dwelling would be upended by the dormitory system. By then, both of us would have several women around us. It rarely took more than one to take enough time that previously constant meetings became infrequent. After we graduated from the school in Hell, we both had known that this would be our path, even at a shared university. Once we would graduate from Welldark, I would move on entirely, while he was likely to settle down somewhere. Probably back in Hell.
I rarely bothered to consider my future in detail. I only knew that I was going to cherish what I had right now. "Don't forget the demon talons," Willt reminded me for the third time.
"I won't," I assured him and drew the jagged curves into the circle just to demonstrate. They were not part of the path the light shone. What was projected was a basic circle. What was required had a select few additional details. "I know exactly why I shall never dabble in demon summoning. They artfully paint these circles, one after another, only to see them all go up in flames, it pains me already."
Willt just hummed in acknowledgement, while he fanned the ink of his finished circle. "You're being more palavering than usual."
"I have to get it all out of my system while I can. Esther does not like my extrapolations."
"Sounds like you're whipped."
"A little bit," I acknowledged with a shrug. "We all make sacrifices to get along with our loved ones, don't we?"
"I certainly have been missing a lot of shirts," Willt joked.
"Me too, although Esther insists she isn't taking any... and I believe her. I feel like even my shirts wouldn't be big enough for her." I made outlining gestures in front of my chest. "Your shortstack can wear your stuff without issue, but my girl is tall."
"That only leaves one other culprit though. You think Aclysia is the kind to steal shirts?"
"Absolutely." I executed the final brush stroke. "I've only been catching onto this recently, but there's crazy under that surface." Willt snorted in amusement. "Not surprised?"
"Look, dude, I know you aren't the greatest judge of common sense, but the amount of women that run around eager to dedicate themselves to a 'Master' that do not have at least some bits of crazy to them is zero," the young warlock responded. "And I don't mean that there's no sane people who have a BDSM kink, I mean that the kind of woman who puts on a maid outfit and calls it her proper attire is definitely not normal in the modern age."
