Magic - Prologue

As so many fantastical stories seem to begin, this one began with a pact. Normally, it is the story rather than the plot which begins with a pact. You usually don't find out until further into the book, probably halfway through, that it was indeed a pact which began said book. You wind through many a page of hopeless dialogue, red herring love stories, insane villainy and even more daring heroes before you even get a glimpse at the idea that there may have actually been a pact through which the events of the remainder of the story have unfolded and will then unfold.

But this isn't a normal fantasy story like most. The pact it begins with is just as important to the story to know about, it is no form of dramatic irony, though it happened in a secret meeting. What kind of pact is it? One of those 'I'm the demon, give me your soul I'll give you anything' sort of pacts.

In the deep, dark corners of every castle lies a villain. He may not be exactly the kind of villain you'd guess would be lying in the deep dark corners of a very drafty castle. Unless you normally have thoughts about mice being the villains in stories. Well actually, I lied. This mouse wasn't even a villain. He just liked to tell himself he was because it was the only way he could ever get a feeling of self importance. I mean, come on, he lives in a giant, drafty castle with deep, dark corners. Who wouldn't start to feel a little insecure after a while?

But this mouse was luckier than your common mouse who lived in deep, dark, drafty castles. He happened to live in a fantasy realm filled with magic. And sooner or later magic will cause animals to gain some kind of self-awareness. Apart from the mind-jarring realisation of his life wasted, this mouse then found he failed at communicating with the other people in the castle. Mice ceased to be interested in his mindless consideration of politics and philosophy, humans and their ilk understood little.

So that was why he was standing in a pentacle inscribed on the stone floor chanting a summoning spell on another larger symbol before him. The symbol was a pentacle incased within a circle, small tildas and doodles surrounding it. Magic was a complex affair, especially summoning Greater Demons. The mouse was stupid to try something like this copied from a scratching on a bit of leather he happened to come across whilst wandering the halls. But this mouse happened to be unnaturally lucky. Normally, failing to draw the etching properly ended in horrible things which varied from losing one's spleen to a simple Armageddon disaster. Thankfully it didn't do anything like that.

"Why are you summoning me?!" The large entity spoke finally, summoned by the persistent squeeking. "Ah, a mouse..." it seemed puzzled, searching in its vast memory for any time where a mouse had summoned a demon. He vaguely remembered a fox doing this centuries before, and that was when the kitsune were formed. But a mouse gaining any kind of intellect was curious. The demon had already found a weakness in the pentacle; he could, if he wanted, escape and vaporise the castle and its occupants. But something held it back. A thought in the back of its mind which questioned, what would a mouse possibly want from a demon?

But then came the even more difficult, and slightly embarassing moment. How was one to communicate with a mouse? The demon conjured up a chair and sat contemplating, watching the squeaking and dancing of the summoner. He couldn't make sense of it. Eventually, from concentrating on the frantic gestures of the tiny rodent, the Greater Demon understood what he wanted.

"Ohhh, you wish to speak? Why did you not ask so in the first place?" The irony struck him as funny enough to comment. It seemed the mouse could understand what was spoken, but had little ability to form the sounds for itself. Since he was bound only by a faulty pentacle, the demon was free to do as he wished. Unfortunately, he could not touch the mouse as it sat within its own pentacle, perfectly formed. The protective symbol stopped the demon from attacking the mouse, but also stopped the summoned creature from gifting his master with speech. He tried an old trick, "Step outside of the pentacle and I shall bestow it upon you." Any summoner with brains would identify a trick like this and stay the hell inside their symbol. As long as the symbol was unbroken the demon was bound. The mouse was innocent though, ignorant of the tricks played by any demon to achieve freedom.

It stepped outside of the pentacle and instantly was given the power to speak rather than just squeak. The demon chuckled to itself. It was free now. No symbols contained it, no summoner could send him back without high-level magics, there was nothing left to do but run before the mouse got smart and sent him back. With a pop, the Greater Demon vanished. Most likely he headed straight to Bermuda or Hawaii, or whatever the tropical paradise was called in this world. I know I would if I were a newly free demon. Within days, the demon would begin to lose the ability to freely shapeshift and settle into whatever form he chose. Most likely the demon would choose a human. They always went for the cliche 'tall, dark and handsome' figures.

And he left the mouse standing quite unsure of itself outside of a pentacle. The mouse looked around. He seemed to see things with a new light. The mouse was grey, with brown wings hinting around his ears. He had dark, black beetles of eyes, and now a voice to match his blossoming mind. He looked younger, and felt stronger. Whatever the demon had done, it had done more than asked.

"Bloody hell, what've I done now?" He asked himself, wondering what mischief the Greater Demon would get up to.