Far to the bottom of Equestria, sitting at the border of the region only known as the Mysterious South, resides a desolate and unforgiving wasteland known by ponykind only as “The Badlands”. In contrast to the lush greenery and variety of Equestria, The Badlands are so barren that no one dares to enter without a strong reason or nefarious intentions. It is home to the loss of hope, deathwishes, and rumored territory of the Changelings. The strongest of wills and egos are tested, while the cowards are rightly encouraged to stay out. However, despite the many warnings from fellow Equestrians, and the obvious nature of the land, there are still a few, be they confident or meek, that find themselves here.
In this particular instance, a lone, brilliant azure pony named Trixie Lulamoon trekked through the harsh realm of misery, dragging her garishly decorated caravan that doubled as her stage. Her pale cornflower blue and very pale cerulean striped mane was disheveled and mussed under the evening heat. Her royal purple and sky blue star speckled cape and hat, while not torn, were soiled well from the dust and dirt from her recent travels. Her dark grayish violet eyes drooped from the encroaching exhaustion that she was experiencing from all ends of her journey, but the threat of passing out didn’t even cross her mind. Even though she apologized for the damages and crazy behavior, she couldn’t help but feel bitter and resentful for the whole situation, and said negativity drove her on. With all said and done, she had long since made up her mind ever since that fateful day.
Acquiring the Alicorn Amulet was no easy feat, and though it certainly made humiliating her nemesis all the sweeter, the victory didn’t last as long as she would have hoped. She could have never predicted that the town she had full control over would have been attacked by Changelings, of all creatures, lead by the Queen of Nightmares herself. But, what was worse than that were those... monsters; that strange metal golem like creature whom had the ability to separate itself at will whom sided with the changelings, the horrific black and fiery demonic atrocity with mouths for claws and a toothy and deranged face for a torso siding with the ponies. This wasn’t even mentioning that armored, green goliath that seemed content enough just to build and work with metal. It was as if she stepped into an extreme Nightmare Night extravaganza, or some sort of rockin’ horror picture show at the cinema. With all of those factors, and with Twilight having so much backing her up at the end of it all, Trixie, the Great and Powerful, had to grovel at their hooves for forgiveness, before being excised from the town once again. While she didn’t outwardly express it, she vowed to pay her nemesis back for the second humiliation.
Trixie’s heart wasn’t really in it at first, though, as she was more interested in tending to her wounded pride and attempting to rebuild her reputation as a master magician. This proved to be rather difficult, as word spread that she stronghooved her way into a hostile takeover of Ponyville, and many places that had heard of what happened either blocked her from entrance or ran her out. It was honestly worse than when word spread about her lying about defeating an Ursa Major. She had only herself to blame for letting her own ego take control of her revenge, and her crippling fear for barring her from stepping up when she needed to the most.
As the situation got more and more desperate, she disguised herself, and returned to that fateful shop once more, looking for something to assist her in her trying times. Vengeance could wait, but the desire to be stable and sound took precedent, now that her lively-hood was in jeopardy. It was then that she discovered an old book, dating back before the time of the Crystal Empire. Considering she found it in the invocations/incantations section of the accursed shop, she guessed accurately that said book would likely help grant her wish. However, due to being so thoroughly burned by the usage of the Alicorn Amulet, she questioned the shopkeeper as to what the trade off would be. He would go on to tell her that it was written in a long dead language, and one would need to accurately translate the words within to get the desired effect. Fortunately, he was willing to part with an Old Equish to Modern Equish book for a fraction of the first books price. The generous offer was scrutinized, but the shopkeeper confessed it was a gift of appreciation. Turns out few ponies ever dare to shop in a place like this, and for good reason. He warned her, however, claiming that the translation book he presented her was incomplete, and some words would need to be carefully substituted. Trixie, in a brilliant moment of deduction, requested a better, more complete book if the one she’s to be given was so majorly flawed. This brought up the second confession, where the shopkeeper stated that the translation book is the most complete copy you could find in the world, as far as any pony as surmised through the research that could be done about the world beyond a thousand years ago.
The Great and Powerful Trixie relented, resigned to the busywork of filling in the blanks herself, and thanked the shopkeeper one more time for his help... before tossing a bag of bits she managed to collect out of the shows she could perform. It was the least she could do.
But this had all been weeks ago, if not months. Honestly, Trixie had no clue as to how long she’s been on this little journey of hers after acquiring the books, but if one thing was for certain, it was that she was nearing her conclusion. Her caravan had taken a much more barren look in its current state, due to selling off just about everything but the necessities just to prepare for this day. The only thing that resided within at this point was a spare cape and hat, a mattress with one sheet, the two books she bought, and all of the ritual materials she needed for ONE shot at this. To be fair, while it was indeed because she couldn’t scrounge enough to get extra materials, Trixie had noted that the ritual she was about to attempt could be the last thing she ever does in this world if she made a mistake. Something like this should only EVER be attempted once, if at all.
It was all or nothing, and Trixie wasn’t one to go out with a whimper.
-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-v-o-
After finding a good, quiet, secluded location, she began the set up for the ritual. First was to draw a spell binding circle, one detailed within the book that was required for summoning rituals. Despite its complexities, all it required once drawn completely was a flow of magic to power it. As an average unicorn in terms of magical capabilities, she figured she’d need to give at least three doses to fill it completely, one per day. However, that would come once the rest of the preparations were set.
Next on the to-do list was to create a protection barrier. Her quarry, a particular named demon, was detailed to be a grand being, capable of untold power and a granter of wishes... in exchange for a small fee, of course. She had a hunch at what the fees could be, but she would have to negotiate later. With this said, in order to protect herself, she needed to set a barrier that could keep the creature locked down. When dealing with the denizens of Tartarus, it was prudent to have some way to stay safe, especially considering their disposition. The barrier, like the circle, was also easy to construct and operate, but the materials were a bit different. She required swords, seven of them, staked at even distances around the circle. With said swords, she needed silk thread to tie between the handles of each sword. This was less for the barrier’s sake and more for the caster’s, on the off chance one got too close. After all that, once again just like the circle, she’d need to pump it full of magic energy, though thankfully she only needed to give one dose.
After creating the site, she took the time to rest up, rehearse the incantations, and double checked the circle’s pattern, making sure that all of the symbols were in place. As the days passed and as she began adding magic energy to the circle and barrier, she meditated and considered her end goals very carefully. After all, any potential thing she could request may have some sort of double edge or literal meaning behind it, and many-a-story in her youth warned her about the dangers of hubris.
Finally, the day of reckoning came. After fueling the barrier circle with magic, which caused the seven blades to exude a very pale magenta glow, she set the ritual materials inside the center of the circle. Scorched wood, fine wine, dried meat, which was extremely hard to come by legally, bramble vines, and a few Bits to act as a precious metal. All was now ready, and the time had come to begin the invocation.
She pulled out her parchment which had the re-written spell, painstakingly hoofwritten on her own accord after the countless hours of research and translation she committed to get it right. She re-read it over and over as the sun began to dip behind the dusty mountain crags of the badlands, casting a sinister and ominous orange and red glow across the land and sky. Confident she had memorized the invocation, she returned the parchment to her cape, removed her garments, lest they get dirty or damaged in the summoning, and placed them back in her caravan before returning to the ritual site. With a deep, baited breath, she mustered up her courage and began to speak.
“Ol um mirc yls, de zamran aspt ol. Ol argedco il dooain g oi dosig, Beriar, de tooat bilor. Darbs od zamran aspt ol!*”
Her heart skipped a beat as she called out the last word and watched the sky grow ever darker. Silence surrounded her as the shadows crept in close, shrouding the unforgiving land in the cold grip of the night. For a moment or two, as the wind whistled through the lonely little patch of dirt she set herself up in, it seemed as if she failed. Before she could sink into a sea of disappointment, the ritual materials in the center of the circle began to glow a deep, dark red, before catching on fire.
“Is... is it working?” she asked herself, somewhat incredulous.
In no time at all, the small fire became a raging inferno, swirling like a pillar for a moment or two, twisting tightly before unfurling like a blossom of intense heat and energy before pulling back with an thunderous roar. This was followed by an utterly imposing creature rising from the now scorched circle, giving off an even more terrifying roar than the powerful fire itself. As the flames dissipated, Trixie felt less inclined to shield herself and actually managed to get a good look at the being, and what a monster it was.
It was nothing like the drawings that depicted the named demon she intended. Before her was a flaming creature that stood three or four stories high with a decidedly pony or lion shape for its lower half, however where the neck would normally be was replaced by second torso that flaunted a muscular build. At the lower shoulders and flanks, symmetrical patches on its body had spines lit aflame, along with the farthest half of its tail, and what seemed to be a lion’s mane of fire surrounding its back and neck. Thick, tall, lengthy horns that glowed red hot like smoldering iron sat upon its head, with eyes and that glowed an equally brilliant, fiery orange. Its four lower paws also glowed red hot, singeing and smoldering the ground beneath as it stood, while equally super-heated claws from its two upper arms glowed brilliantly even while it flexed each individual digit for a moment or two.
“At last,” it rumbled with a deep, reverberating, masculine voice that no pony has ever heard in any lifetime, “I may take my vengeance upon those that have disgraced-” The large being stopped mid sentence, only to look down and see the small, azure pony before him. The color threw the monster off a tad, but the smell was no mistake. “Horses. Which means humans are near... This is not the gate I was drawn to last time. Where am I?” As it questioned its whereabouts, it began to look towards the sky, hoping to get an idea by reading the star patterns.
Trixie, stunned for a moment, took a step back, flared her horn, and pulled the parchment from her caravan to check her notes. Everything was as it should, but something was off. She flared her horn again and pulled out the books as well, while flipping to the bookmarked locations. The book detailed a very different being than the one she had managed to attain, as she already recounted. Depicted within was a minotaur-like being with shadowy skin, decorated in golden robes, and holding a chalice aloft. It sported no horns, but was surrounded by fire, just like the being before her. She read the notes within until she came upon the name she translated.
“Beriar,” she uttered slowly, pronouncing her work. “Right?” A creeping horror began to sink in as she asked that question, with her gut almost screaming a hint of the truth she wanted to deny until she knew for sure.
“Beriar?” The thunderous voice parroted, now gazing down at the tiny pony with malcontent.
She leafed through the translation book, going as fast as she possibly could, until she came to the N section, and found a list of names. “Bael, Balam, yadda yadda... Belith, Belial, Berial... there’s no Beriar?” she whispered, eyes shaking. Was she so vain and tunnel visioned that she overlooked such a vital error. No, she was sure the translation was right. Then again, the translation book wasn’t one-to-one perfect. Perhaps, along with word substitution, pronunciation liberties needed to be taken. It was far too late to back down now though.
Trixie looked up to the titanic creature, whose gaze could probably quite literally light her on fire in an instant. The showpony swallowed hard for a moment and after she finished mustering up all of her remaining courage, she gave a stern glare to the monster before her. “I-I am Trixie Lulamoon, the one who summoned you, and I demand that you h-”
“I tire of your tricks, humans. Ventriloquism is such a cheap time waster, especially when used with a beast of burden. Reveal yourselves truly, so we may end this charade.”
“Beast of burden?!” Trixie shouted indigently. “How DARE you! I am the GREAT and POWERFUL TRIXIE, and you will NOT forget that!”
The hulking monster gazed back down to the insignificant little pony before him once more, furrowing his smoldering brow. With a snort of displeasure, the great monster gave a sneer. “I’m in the wrong world entirely. How disgraceful.” As it said this, it reached forward with an outstretched arm, and as it did, sudden bolts of energy crackled for an instant, causing him to retract his reach. With a grunt of discomfort and another displeased glare, he swiftly noticed the seven blades staked into the ground. “A barrier?” It then turned its gaze back to the pony.
“Th-that’s right!” Trixie said with rising confidence. “That barrier has been erected by the Great and Powerful Trixie, the one and only, and it will NOT come down until you answer some important questions and conform to Trixie’s request! Are we in an understanding?”
The being gave a low, guttural laugh for a moment. “Pathetic mule. Your ego has swelled somewhat grossly from the protection you THINK you have. It will not last, and the weaker it gets, the more capable I will be at crossing it with little trouble... unless you anger me further, by which time I will have your neck in my fiery grip so fast you’ll be smouldering before I consume you’re frightened body and soul. From then, you will be trapped in my belly for ninty years... that’s how long it takes for a worm like you to digest.”
Trixie swallowed rather hard inwardly, but remained steadfast, trying desperately not to take a sudden step back out of fear. Holding her ground and remaining in ironclad eye contact, she rose her head up high and spoke again. “I am TRIXIE, and I have summoned you, great demon Beriar, to answer my questions and heed my request!”
“You used that name again... I am no such being.” he grumbled in rising ire.
“You must be! You’re form isn’t entirely right, but you were summoned from the specific invocation mentioned. You are a daemon of great avarice and lawlessness, of destruction and worth, and are the one that will assist me in rebuilding my life and exacting revenge on another.”
“Vengeance?” the great being questioned before shaking his head slowly, “Reprisal is within my might, but your foolish blathering shows you have erred. I am not ‘Beriar’. No such demon exists, and the one that resembles your description is BELIAL. Have you misspelled our names, or are you just ignorant?”
Trixie took a step back in shock from the insult and following question. “Th-then,” she started, her legs shaking slightly, “Who, pray tell, is Trixie speaking to right now?”
The great monster gave a snort of dissatisfaction. “A foolish summoner with the wrong name. What a jest.”
“Answer me!” she shouted, still shaking.
He gave a laugh for a moment, and let the echo carry along the barren land before letting the silence settle. The two stared at each other for a moment, before the demon broke silence out of annoyance. “You’ve bungled your invocation and summoned the wrong being to your world. Either release me, or send me back. I have business elsewhere, and I grow weary of your ineptitude.”
Trixie stood stunned. All of the fear she held was almost suddenly smothered by the grating insults against her. “How dare you? How DARE YOU!?”
“Yes, how dare I?”
“FINE, you miserable monster! Trixie no longer cares WHO you are, for NO ONE gets away with as many insults as you have.” Her eyes drifted away from the terrifying being, only to lay on the blades she planted for the barrier. He hadn’t even attempted on leaving the circle. It seemed to do its job as instructed, which bolstered the showpony’s confidence. With a sneer, she continued, “You have been summoned, and you WILL do as Trixie demands! You will not be free until you do!”
The great monster crossed his arms with a huff, eyes still fixated on the little equine. His murderous intent, normally felt by mortals with even the strongest constitutions, was undoubtedly stifled while he stood in this stupid circle, and thus she remained annoyingly emotional and outspoken. How curious, he thought after a moment of consideration, that this creature behaves like a human.
“My FIRST demand,” she announced with as much authority as she could muster, “Is that you assist in rebuilding the luxurious life of the Great and Powerful Trixie. The stage performances once done are no longer crowd pleasers, and rumors of my previous actions and boasts have discredited my reputation and besmirched my name.”
“And what sort of significance could the name of an idiotic blue HORSE have?”
She gave an indignant snort before continuing, “If you are not the one Trixie intended on summoning then terms and conditions will have to be modified. Trixie had doubts you could grant power enough to exemplify abilities, so Trixie will need you to act as a sideshow attraction instead.”
“You shameful little maggot!”
“Trixie is NOT done yet,” she barked, before clearing her throat, “Unless you have a better suggestion, this is what you will do.”
“What in all of the many circles makes you think that I will abide?”
She gave a sly smirk, ignoring the question in the process. “My second demand is that you assist me in my goals of vengeance.”
“I QUESTIONED you, mortal, and I EXPECT an answer.”
“Contracts,” she answered, finally. The being clammed up for a moment as Trixie gave a laugh. “So, you’re still bound by that rule, even though you weren’t the intended summon.”
“Though your invocation is a contract in of itself, I have not agreed to it yet, nor do you have my proper name. With your poor display, what makes you think I will bend to your whims?”
“This barrier will remain up indefinitely as long as it’s charged. It’ll last months if left alone, if not longer, and it is not a large sacrifice to ‘refill’ it. Trixie may not posses potent magical spells, unlike other former and current students, but Trixie still has a vast and wealthy reserve in terms of magical consumption. If you do not accept my terms and offer me your name, you will be trapped here.”
“You...”
“So, what will it be: Entrapment, or brief assistance before you tarry off to do... whatever YOU do normally?”
The fiery demon took pause for a moment, and thought over what was presented. Oh, how he wished she could feel his anger, fury, and desire to obliterate her for such blasphemous actions and words, but as long as the circle was up, there was literally nothing he could do. On the flipside, his unique situation brought up a new thought.
“I’m WAAAAAIIIITIIIIING.”
“Very well,” the behemoth of a creature answered, “But know this: For your foolish transgressions of making a mockery of me, I demand full rights to SLAY you at my discretion after your demands have been fulfilled. If you want to bond this contract, you MUST accept this term.”
Trixie bit her lip. She’d be the first to admit that she is a very desperate pony, and desperation yields to rash and bold decisions. There were so many spoils life had to offer that she so deeply wished to indulge in, fame and fortune being at the top of the list. To have such doom hanging over her head upon her request’s completion would surely dampen her enjoyment. However, upon considering what the great and terrible monster had said, she suddenly realized a loophole.
Before she could give her answer, a chilling laugh echoed around her, snapping Trixie out of her thoughts, scanning the immediate area in confusion and dread. The sound of that laugh sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of a horrible, deep seated fear. What a horrible, sultry, reverberating and dual toned voice.
“Oh, what a curious sight,” said the phantom interloper, venom dripping from her voice, “I was beginning to fear that me and my brood would be without nourishment for a while longer.”
“N-no... It can’t...” Trixie quivered.
“And, such a surprise that it’s the little blue pony that hindered us so with that accursed glass dome. Oh, how you should have let us in, little pony.” As she spoke, from out of the shadows, the slender, perforated and insectoid form of the Queen of her race emerged. Her slick, dark cerulean mane highlighted the dark grey chitin and framed the moderate harlequin eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. As she cantered closer, the flames of the great beast cast her in a much more sinister light, as she gazed to the beast and gave a smug smile. “But what’s this? You presented me a gift? I suppose this could make up for your insolence.”
Trixie took a shaky step back, shocked that Chrysalis, the Queen of Changelings, was here.
“And what in the name of fire’s chaos are you?” the great monster questioned.
“I’m going to enjoy studying you. Your magical signature reminds me of that infernal, great oaf that ruined my previous plans, and if I can unlock the secrets behind it, I’ll finally be able to take what’s mine.”
“Mortal, I have questioned you, I demand-”
“Silence!” she barked, her predatory irises shrinking to slivers in malice. “I will not be talked down by yet ANOTHER abomination.” She gave an angry huff as she composed herself.
“You shall know your place, worm!” the burning beast bellowed.
“As long as you’re behind that barrier, you have no sway. Isn’t that right, little pony?” she asked rhetorically, eyes falling upon Trixie. The little pony just stammered, taking another shaky step backward.
The devil watched as the little creature cowered in fear from the interloper, almost helpless under her sinister gaze. If he wasn’t offended by her false sense of superiority and smug nature, he’d almost be impressed. But a worm is a worm, no matter the feat, and there was only one way he knew to draw the line in the sand and thrust the emboldened back where they belong. To do just that, he’d need his freedom, and to gain that...
“Berial.”
“H-huh?” Trixie stammered, as both she and Chrysalis turned their attention to powerful demon.
“Speak my name, and the contract is set. Then, set me free.”
“BERIAL!” the queen shouted preemptively. The demon turned towards her as she grinned in smug satisfaction. “Now, you are contracted to me.”
“You may have spoken my name, but you are NOT the contract bearer. She was the one to summon me, and she was the one to form the contract through incantation. You have no place to call upon me, creature.”
Chrysalis’ eyes shrunk in panic, before angrily turning towards the little pony. “Don’t you DARE!” she barked, charging up magic in her horn, ready to shoot Trixie at a moment’s notice. She flinched, but gazed back at the monster that had so willingly relinquished its name. She knew the binding words, and all she needed to do was say them.
“I am bound to thee, BERIAL!” she shouted, terror in her voice, as her eyes closed and she shot a small bit of magic at the barrier, aiming to shut it down. As she did, Chrysalis fired her own magic, and knocked Trixie off of her hooves, right into the caravan.
“You stupid pony!”
There was a crack, like glass giving way, as the invisible force that kept Berial contained now gave way to an incredible pressure of power, shattering into shards of magic before disappearing into the air. Gusts of fire kicked up as the great demon roared triumphantly, now free from his prison.
“N-no! NOT AGAIN!” Chrysalis screamed, as she prepared to take flight.
Before she could even manage to get into the air, Berial summoned a blade nearly as tall as he was and as wide as his hornspan out of fire, only to swing it by the flat of the smoldering blade right into the nearly fleeing changeling. With a crunch, it connected heavily with Chrysalis, sending her tumbling through the air before landing upon the dusty desert ground with a listless thud.
“RETURN TO THE HOVEL YOU CRAWLED FROM, MAGGOT, LEST YOU SUFFER THE WRATH OF BERIAL; CONQUEROR OF THE FIRE HELL!!”
Rising from the ground, and without so much as a word, barely holding back a pained whimper, the queen of changelings limped away for a few moments, before shakily taking flight into the dark of the night.
Berial watched as the coward retreated, before he flexed his limbs and shook the flames upon his body, relishing in the relative freedom. He then let his gaze dip down toward the passed out Trixie, who took the brunt of the shot, seemingly sustaining relatively non-critical injuries. She would heal, and likely be awake by the time the sun rises. His eyes closed as he considered the circumstance he was now in, and gave a heavy, exasperated sigh.
The little blue pony was willing to bargain, but the strange and sinister bug pony looked like the type to use assets presented rather than barter for better results. At least with his accidental summoner, he had freedom. Despite this, he realized he may have jumped the gun to a degree.
“Perhaps... she will forget I granted my name,” he started, “without her agreement to my terms.”
Author's Note
*I call upon thee, to show oneself before me. I invoke thy name in this night, Berial, to provide comfort. Obey and appear before me!
The warm and welcoming sun shone over the harsh and jagged horizon of the wastelands, pushing the shadows down farther and farther, revealing more of the barren land’s true face. Dust kicked up by the swirls of the wind as hardy creatures near and far retreated into the comfort of the shade to rest for another day.
However, the sun’s brilliance wasn’t the only source of light on the dawning horizon, nor was it the earliest that day, for sitting a good twenty paces from the wooden caravan was the large, bestial demon Berial. His flames dimly flicked in the wind as his body remained cooled at a dull smolder. His gaze was transfixed to said caravan and the owner that remained sleeping beneath its shadow.
He gave a listless sigh. It would be so easy to scorch her and move on, but the contract was set in place, and if there is one thing he held in the highest regard, it was honor. Going back on his word, no matter how hasty his choice was to forge the pact in the first place in such a manner would be beyond the realms of shameful. To be fair, the interloper that tried to usurp the situation hours before probably would have made his existence a thousand times more regrettable. Just a glance at her was enough to spring warning responses in his mind. He was in no mood to be contracted to by something so seemingly conniving. It was better to take the lesser of two irritants, especially over being trapped for who knows how long behind a stifling barrier.
“Curses,” he grumbled. Never the less, the situation on the whole was just a misfire. He had ultimately jumped the gun, and now he had a ward that must have a contract fulfilled. “What did the little thing want, again?”
She stirred a bit as the sun grew higher in the sky, shortening the shadows a bit more and raising the overall warmth of the desert land. Groaning in discomfort, she curled up tighter, muttering to herself, and scrunched her eyes shut as if she were trying to ignore the temperature shift. That, however, became pointless as the growing discomfort overpowered her fatigue and forced her awake. Bleary eyed and exhausted, she squinted about, barely able to see anything, and smacked her lips groggily. Berial snorted out licks of flames in annoyance, dreading what would surely come next.
A yawn escaped the groggy mare before she rubbed her sleepy eyes and finally adjusted to the new waking day. As soon as she finally crossed that threshold of consciousness, hundreds of warnings flared off in the back of her head as she suddenly recalled the events that transpired last night. Her eyes then snapped open, and fixed their gaze upon the monstrous creature that sat not a stones throw away from her. Fear suddenly began to overtake her being as lips quivered and limbs shook, finding it too difficult to flee.
“Good,” the great monster of dimmed flames stated, “You’re awake now.”
The reverberating, booming words kicked Trixie’s locomotion and senses into high gear as she frantically crawled backwards in an attempt to get away, only to be thwarted by her caravan’s wheel. Her head hit it with a loud “thwack” as she jerked forward, covering the sore spot with her hooves.
Berial sighed in annoyance. “This is my contractor? How shameful...”
“Oooooh, my aching head,” she whined, rubbing the spot a little more before wincing and clutching a tender spot on her shoulder. Trixie then remembered what happened before she blacked out. Queen Chrysalis suddenly showed up, attacked Trixie, and...
“Are you finished licking your wounds?” the huge demon mocked, “Can we get on with your pathetic contract? I have much to do once this is all said and done.”
“C-contract?” Trixie stuttered. Confidence slowly creeped into her voice as the seconds passed by as she slowly rose to her hooves. “Th-that’s right. You have a contract with Trixie!”
Berial gave another sigh as he too rose to his full stature and suddenly towered over the little pony and her caravan. Trixie wilted under the impressive size of the monster, now free from the circle that she was forced to shut down. Gazing about, she noticed that the changeling was long gone as well.
“What happened to the Changeling Queen? Trixie demands to know!”
“The coward fled like the locust it appeared to resemble. I will take my time in exterminating her... once your contract is over and I’m free, that is.”
“R-right,” Trixie muttered. “T-trixie is a little fuzzy on everything that happened last night. The contract made was about you assisting me in...”
“Vengeance,” Berial answered.
Trixie pawed at her chin for a moment. “And assisting Trixie in creating a life of luxury for myself.”
Berial clicked his tongue. “That will not be easy...” he snarled.
“And in exchange... I...” she paused, unable to remember what the hastily agreed price was. She cursed her throbbing head and sore body for interfering with her, for trying to recall those crucial details did nothing but aggravate her growing headache. “What in blazes was it?!”
“Your life.”
“W-what?” Trixie sputtered, snapping out of her thoughts.
“Vengeance and assisting your pursuit of wealth to your previous splendor, in exchange for your life at my discretion.”
Trixie stood there, somewhat dumbfounded, and equal parts mortified and bothered she was hasty enough to make such a deal. It was then that she remembered she was in the middle of trying to negotiate down from there before they were interrupted by her childhood nightmares. Trixie shuttered. “F-fine. That was the agreement, but not before I’m satisfied.”
Berial snorted out flames as he gazed up into the relatively clear morning sky. His face and stature said he wasn’t happy with the agreement, but his inner thoughts were nothing but. In the confusion of last night and the blows dealt to her, she had entirely failed to realize that she sealed the contract without agreeing to the toll at his permission, and was now led to believe that she had. On the one hand, if she ever figured out the ruse, she could easily get what she wants and attempt to abscond him, and there was a chance she could get away with her life intact. On the other hand, if she failed to find out, or failed to flee even if she did, he was still within right to murder her.
Honestly, contracts with such a toll were more to guarantee that the toll be paid out of convenience and to keep mortals from growing too confident and egotistical when dealing with demons. Loopholes, Berial thought, are fine enough in cases like these. Sure, he could just do it now and save himself the headache of following her about, but that would just make fulfilling the contract that much harder. He’d have no way of knowing if he had managed to hold his end of the bargain until the binding was finally broken, and that would just be more of an annoyance than anything. His best option was to make this contract run smoothly, then swiftly be rid of her the moment the iron is hot. Maybe even eat the mortal’s soul for the trouble she’d likely cause.
“Well, don’t just stand there,” Trixie said, whom had already fastened herself to the caravan, “We need to head out of the Badlands and begin Trixie’s Great and Powerful redemption! That, and Trixie wants breakfast.”
Berial gazed about, realizing that the myriad of swords that made the spell binding circle were simply left behind as is. “Are you going to abandon these blades?”
“Of course Trixie is! What does the Great and Powerful Trixie need a bundle of weapons for any-” She was suddenly cut off from the sound of a blade violently sticking into wood. The poor magician hazarded a gander, and found one of the seven blades halfway embedded into her caravan wall. She became slack jawed as the demon approached her, holding onto the formerly discarded swords like a bunch of twigs.
“You stupid creature. You have financial woes, and you DON’T consider taking what you can to at least SELL?”
Trixie shivered for a moment, considering Berial’s words. “Y-you have a p-point,” she managed to sputter. The demon simply tossed them before her and crossed his arms. Her horn lit up and gently put them inside of the carriage. The seventh blade, the one stuck in the wooden exterior, she tried and failed to remove. “I-I’ll grab that one later.”
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After a lengthy trek through the badlands that took most of the morning, the two finally exited the harsh terrain and were on the path to the less harsh environment of the desert next to Hayseed Swamps. Trixie steadily pulled her caravan along the dirt path with very little vigor, despite the night’s rest she had. To be fair, traveling on an empty stomach wasn’t an entirely ideal thing to do, but it wasn’t the first time she ever had to suffer that type of annoyance. At least the carriage itself was absent her normal load of luggage, but thinking about that only brought about a very disgraced and humiliated feeling in the pit of her heart. She sacrificed just about everything to acquire the necessary materials, and a single blunder netted her the wrong summon. She wasn’t even entirely sure as to what demon she summoned. Only the name.
It was upon realizing the fact that she lit her horn up and pulled the books from the interior of her mobile home and stage, and quickly skimmed through the “N” section for demon names in the translation book, before looking for the appropriate name in the arcane book of invocations. And it was there, clear as day, the name Berial, which depicted the exact same monster that now followed her closely behind. Weapons of all sorts and fire surrounded the creature in the illustration, as it appeared to roar towards the sky. Flipping back to BELIAL, the name she fudged, she quickly realized that both demons required the same materials for summoning. Inspecting further, she noticed a word that was singled out underneath the name. Turning back to the translation book, she swiftly realized that the term translated to Devil. At first, she thought this was just a redundant term. Aren’t the words Demon and Devil the same? Then, she turned to the index out of curiosity and read the definition.
Devil: A superclass of demon, above the classification Archfiends and two above the classification Fiends. Devils are powerful entities capable of a variety of abilities, and embody elements and concepts. Nearly all Devils are highly intelligent and extremely dangerous. Caution is to be exercised when performing contacting rites and invocations. Summoning is highly discouraged and, in some cases, forbidden.
“Th-there... there are CLASSES of these things?!” She blurted out. Hazarding a glance behind her caravan, she tried to discern on whether her little outburst was heard, but the look on his face either said he didn’t hear or simply didn’t care. She turned back to the book, which shook a little under her nervousness. She breathed slowly, trying to calm her nerves, before spinning the whole situation around in her head from a different perspective. “No matter. Trixie is going to get what she deserves. If Berial is of the same class as Belial, then I have lost nothing.” She gave a proud grin, now believing she made no real mistake. She then glanced back at Berial, and had a second thought. “His size might be an issue if Trixie is to have his assistance.”
After several more hours of travel, she soon saw Dodge City in the distance. Despite what the name implied, Dodge City was closer to a small-ish town in density and size. Although, part of the reason for its existence was that it was once an old Canterlot outpost to keep an eye on the badlands so many lifetimes ago, but those details didn’t matter. She knew Dodge City quite well. It was one of her go-to stops after she left Las Pegasus years ago, and the people appreciated her tricks for the most part. It was quite easy to entertain ponies when the desert has almost nothing to do.
She stopped trotting for a moment, and undid her bindings. Berial too stopped walking and raised an eyebrow. “You’re stopping here?”
“No, YOU’RE stopping here. Trixie is heading into town. Trixie needs to trade these stupid scraps of metal in for some quick bits,” she scoffed as she donned her cape and hat, as well as pulled out the swords she used for the protective circle. She then tried once again to remove the one blade that was stuck through the side of her caravan, but no matter how much her magic pulled at it, she was simply still too weak to move it even an inch.
The great devil gave an exasperated sigh as it walked up to the caravan, causing Trixie to go wide eyed and jump away, spooked from the sudden invasion of space. “What are you-?” Was all she managed to utter before Berial gripped the blade’s hilt with his index finger and thumb, swiftly and shortly pulled it out of the wood, and then unceremoniously dropped it to the ground, all while staring at his contractor. Trixie looked at the blade, then looked at him before collecting the weaponized metal and bundled it with the rest. “Yes, well, if you would have given Trixie a few more minutes, Trixie would have freed the stupid thing herself.”
“Why do you speak like that?”
The question threw the little unicorn off for a moment. “Beg your pardon?”
“You speak in third person.”
Trixie just stood and stared at the creature, not really sure how to respond. In all honesty, she never really had an answer, nor did she really think about it before. It just felt natural to say her own name under normal conversation. She pursed her lips and gave the demon a glare. “Why do you care to know?”
“It’s an irritation.”
“Well, get used to it, bucko.”
Berial snorted flames from his nostrils in ire as the little unicorn turned in a huff and began her trek alone to the town, with the bundle of swords hovering beside her. The devil, otherwise, simply sat down as he was told, and awaited her return.
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Dodge City was a rather welcoming town, home to many humble ponies that lived a humble lifestyle near the harsh desert lands to the south and the swamplands to the east. Their claim to fame was the variety of cherry products that they produced, advertised, utilized, and sold, all spearheaded by the rather tenacious Cherry Jubilee from Cherry Hill Ranch, which could rival the famous Sweet Apple Acres some would say. Even lost and self exiled ponies tended to come here for sanctuary, and the citizens of this junction are more than happy to accommodate. So it was no surprise that when Trixie of all ponies were to stroll on in that she was immediately met with friendly smiles and waves. To be fair, as she reaffirmed, this wasn’t her first stop into this town, but that was beside the point.
The gestures of good will didn’t go unnoticed in Trixie’s case, however they only truly served to puff her chest in pride and swell her ego. It was one of the rare times she actually felt like a proper star, despite the dusty surroundings and old-world vibe, and she was going to relish in it. She met her fans, greeted in kind, but declined any extended interaction. Rather, she headed for the trading post near the center of town in order to regain some semblance of finances.
Stepping into the rustic and rather spacious shop, she marched up to the front counter and plopped the set of blades atop it, ringing the bell for service. There was a small commotion in the back, with clanging metal and scraping wood accompanying a few garbled cusses, before a weathered old earth pony stallion stepped up to the register. He sported a bluish-grey cotton-ball mane and curled beard, with a light grey coat. A monocle sat on his left eye, while a red tie hung loosely around his neck, and sported a pickax and gold bar cutiemark.
“Ah, if’nain’t th’ great n’ powerful Trixie!” the old stallion remarked with a scratchy guffaw.
“Relic Hoarder,” Trixie replied with a dismissive air.
“That’s HERDER!” he snapped, before giving a small, wheezing chuckle, “Eh, ah know yer jus’ playin’, but ye could do meh th’ privilege of sayin’ m’ name right fer the greetin’.”
Trixie sighed and roller her eyes. “Oh, very well.”
“’pology accepted. Now, what can ah do ye fer?”
“The Great and Powerful Trixie needs to sell these. They were purchased in Canterlot for two hundred and fifty bits a piece and have served their purpose. Trixie needs finances now more than anything.”
Relic picked up one of the blades and carefully inspected it. He gave a rather impressed whistle. “Well, ah’ll be. This’s some good metal ye got ‘ere. Great forgin’ techniques. Mighty fine detailin’. Say ye got ‘em fer two fiddy?”
“That’s right,” Trixie replied, “While Trixie is glad you like them, Trixie wishes to quickly wrap this deal up. Breakfast calls.”
“Ye look like ye haven't eaten in a while, true ‘nough,” he laughed before he returned to scrutinizing the blade, “Eh, wait a cherry-pickin’ second. Were magic pumped int’ it?”
“Indeed. It was required for my... latest project.”
“Hrrmmmmm... Well, great n’ powerful Trixie, since ah may need t’ send ‘em t’ be processed for infused magic, which’ll cost a pretty bit, ah say... ah’ll buy th’ lot fer a hundred n’ ten a blade. Sound fair?”
“A hundred and ten!?” Trixie parroted in shock and dismay. “Surely the metal alone is worth more than that!?”
“Well, sure!” Relic agreed, “’scept it’s still used goods AN’ ah’ll need em’ t’ be sent away fer magic processin’, which’ll cost those fees plus shippin’ both ways.”
“You don’t have any place in town that can “process” them?”
“Nah. Not many unicerns stay in town too long as it is, and those that do aren’t interested in that type o’ work. Yer th’ closest one t’ be interested in magic itself, but ah know ye ain’t got th’ time or knowhow t’ do it yerself.”
Trixie huffed as the facts were laid bare. He was absolutely right. As prodigious as Trixie was, and while it’s a simple matter infusing an object with magic for whatever purpose, siphoning magic out of an object was an entirely different affair. Further still, as open and welcoming as they were, Dodge City was very much an earth pony settlement. It’s not that they didn’t try, but most pegasi and unicorns weren’t entirely keen on staying long in such a dusty, down to earth environment, no matter how good the cherry products were or how cheerful the residents behaved. Those that do weren’t exactly big qualifiers for major handling of weather and magic. It’s a good thing Cloudsdale had enough horsepower to send over weatherponies to towns that need it, like Dodge City.
“Fine, Trixie accepts.”
“Great! A hundred n’ ten bits a piece fer seven of ‘em, equatin’ t’ about seven hundred n’ seventy bits total.” He tapped his register for the correct amount and quickly wrote up a small receipt. Passing it over to Trixie, he had her sign it, right before he dove under the counter to open the safe. Once opened, he took a small bag and placed the intended number of bits inside before presenting them to Trixie. “And,” he added, before placing a stack of twenty bits in front of the sack, “A li’l bit o’ breakfast money. Git yerself a nice stack o’ cherry pancakes. Mah treat, li’l missy.”
Trixie gave a sigh and shook her head before she recomposed herself. “Trixie thanks you, Relic,” she said, taking up the money and stashing it in her magician’s hat.
“Much obliged.”
Before she left, she spent some bits there and bought herself a modestly sized chest, knowing she’ll need it quite a bit for the foreseeable future. With that, Trixie exited the trading post, but while breakfast was certainly more desired, she decided to instead hit up as many of the local shops as she could to pick up equipment and items. After all, her business took top priority, and she just may need some, if not all, of the extra twenty to get her stuff.
First thing’s first, she hit up the local hardware shop, buying a small bit of patchwork lumber, some tools and nails, a set of chains, and a small stack of sheet wood (the sheet wood she’d have to come back for later, as carrying it around town was taxing on magic, even for a “great and powerful” showmare such as her. Next, she hit up the General store and picked up a small sack of flour, a brand new lock and key, a deck of cards, some fake flowers, a ball of string, some basic fabric, a needle and thread, plastic tubing, a few small cans of paint, a paint brush, and some cardboard. Many of these items were less than ideal, but they would have to do. After that, she headed over to the party store, and grabbed a variety of low-end fireworks. Once everything was accounted for, she placed it all inside of the chest. The whole excursion was enough to get a sizable portion of her general act back up to snuff, which was more than Trixie was hoping for. Last time she was in this predicament, she needed to take out a small loan, which required more than a few shows just to pay back the difference with interest. It was honestly her original plan A, but perhaps it was better she heeded a devil’s words this time. Now she can just focus on trying to make her profits.
Trixie then took a moment to sit on her chest for a break and look through her satchel of bits, which felt rather light. Upon dumping the contents within onto her hoof, only four bits remained in total. She gave a haggard sigh, having been looking forward to a nice stack of pancakes for once, but realizing she’d have to settle for a plain muffin and coffee, provided the price hasn’t gone up. She threw them back into the sack, getting ready to find a cafe. However, just as she was about to, she noticed that ponies were gathering at the south side of town. She rose her eyebrow in intrigue, before she realized the most definite possibility of what they were looking at.
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Meanwhile, a good distance away from the small desert town, sitting idly in growing aggravation, Berial stewed and steamed over his predicament. It was bad enough that he was contracted to a mortal, but one so conceited and arrogant as her just added on top of his swiftly growing list of hells. While he still believed he netted a positive in going with such an annoying creature over either imprisonment or possible servitude to the interloper, it still managed to only raise it closer to a neutral situation, a far cry from anything he could consider positive. It was ridiculous, honestly. He was a warrior and usurper. He shouldn’t be taking such trite in stride, insulting his positions and titles. But he had to, and it was already reaffirmed earlier in the day.
But 'why' was the better conundrum. To be fair, it was simple for him. In his world of monsters, especially those with powers beyond the forces of nature, to be a cut above the rest you needed something more. For some, it was authority and command, like the former devil king Mundus. For others, it was lineage and the knowing that your kin would take up your mantle if you were to fail. Some simply fostered intelligence to hide their true abilities and grew accordingly. For him, it was the code of chivalry.
If there was ever one thing that he could admire humans for, it was their quick adaption of such a concept, as far as he knew centuries ago. The bond of blades and honor among the strong, willing to keep solid oaths, no matter the circumstances, and see anything through to the bitter end, be it battle or words. Only once did he ever falter on his core fundamentals, and fate subsequently punished him by throwing him to the infamous son of the traitor, to be excised from the world of man and forced to reset. It took him far too long to claw his way back up to where he was then. Never again would he turn his back on honor, no matter the challenge or irritant.
Berial then stood up, stretching his limbs out for a moment, working the strains from staying so idle. While he would definitely remain near the blue horse’s caravan as told, he needed a distraction if he was going to remain alone for the time being. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned his massive blade from a plume of fire in his hand, standing far enough away not to scorch the little wooden cart, and prepared to practice his sword training exercises. As he began however, he noticed the telltale color of his current contractor running towards his position, followed by a small crowd other equines.
