Nurturing Wonder

I was watching the musical episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer last night, and thought the demon was a fascinating character. The demon in this story isn’t the same guy – for one thing, there’s no singing or dancing – but he does bear some resemblance.

Truth?

Mella crept along the disused passages of her parents’ castle, trying to disturb the dust on the floor as little as possible. She wasn’t sure which was worse; the way her parents constantly fought, or the way they fought ,over her whenever she was around them. Either way, she had to get away, and hoped to remain undiscovered at least until dinner time. Especially since the only time either of them actually looked for her was when they wanted to force her into choosing sides.

Usually, she went exploring just to get away from them, but the night before she had found something special, and for once she had snuck away as much for what she hoped to find as for what she hoped to escape.

Finally, she reached it, looking back along her path with some dismay. The dust showed her path clearly in spite of her care. She would just have to hope they wouldn’t look for her before dinner time. She let herself into the room and closed the door securely before touching the light globe in the center of the table. Then she went to the first box, the one she had opened in curiosity the night before but not had the time to investigate in full. She lifted out an ornately bound book, only one of many, and laid it open on the table to start reading.

She didn’t sneak any of the books back to her room, for her parents had forbidden her to learn any kind of magic. The command had come after a series of horrible fights in which they could not agree over what kind of magic she should be taught. The only thing they could agree on was that she shouldn’t be taught what the other one wanted her to learn.

Still, they hadn’t realized how much the use and practice of magic permeated their culture. Information on magic was present in the content of all her other lessons, from history to resource management, to simple reading, writing and arithmetic. So when she found the books, a glorious, unrestricted source of information, she was well prepared to study on her own.

For a time, she used her studies as an escape from the ever escalating unpleasantness of dealing with her parents. As she learned, she even started using small, easy to overlook spells to make her life easier. Magic allowed her to smooth the dust in the hall to protect her hideaway, and allowed her to sneak food to her room so that she could excuse herself from dinner at the first sign of a fight without dooming herself to starvation. Magic even allowed her to smuggle more books of magic into her hideaway to study.

She often thought that if she could just find a spell to force people to get along, she would be able to experience the “happiness” that her parents so often invoked in their battles. The more she learned and questioned what she wanted for herself, the more intolerable their fighting felt to her, and finally she decided to do something about it.

She had found the spell shortly after her studies began, but it was complex and beyond her initial skills. Still, the description of it stuck with her, coming to mind whenever she heard her parents bending the truth or inventing offenses that never happened for ammunition against each other. “An Agency to invoke truth.”

The word “agency” was expanded to “use of a demonic agent” in her more modern texts, and described as a risky bargain with a being of power from another dimension. Still, she thought that truth was the only weapon that might end her parents’ open warfare and free her from the crossfire. She studied until she thought she was ready to cast the spell, and then studied for three more months while she waited for the optimal conjunction of the sun and the moon.

Then she sought her parents out in their throne room and, before they could even greet her, cast her spell.

The demon appeared, his body remarkably man-like and clad in a strangely fashioned blue suit. His skin was a vibrant red, and his facial features, while even and symmetrical, did not fit any human standard of beauty. Mella barely glanced at him, though, before turning her attention fully back to her parents. “I invoke truth,” she shouted, seeing their mouths opening to argue and determined to say her piece first. “Why must you fight so? Don’t you love each other?”

They looked at each other, then looked back at her. In eerie unison, they said, “We loved each other before you were born, but raising you right is more important than anything else, and he/she has all the wrong ideas.”

She took a step back, horrified. “So this is all my fault? You would love each other if it weren’t for me?”

They stepped forward, each reaching a hand out to her. “I just want what’s best for you,” they said. Then they glared at each other and started shouting accusations and epithets at each other even more violently than usual.

Mella ran, her hopes for a reconciliation powered by truth dashed beyond recovery.

Her feet naturally took her back to her hideaway room, her magic smoothing the dust behind her without a second thought. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, trying not to cry.

“Well, I imagine that didn’t go the way you planned.” The voice was smooth, confident, almost beautiful in its even timbre and pitch.

Mella gasped and looked up, unaccustomed to anyone else sharing the room with her. It was the demon, of course, who she had summoned and then abandoned in her rush to get away from her parents. She blinked away unshed tears and took in a breath to end the Agency and banish him back to his own plan.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s the rush?” He took the hand she held up to enact the spell and brought it to his lips, laying a butterfly-light kiss on the back that made her skin tingle. He brushed a hand against her cheek and through her hair, examining her through half-lidded eyes. “It’s not often I get summoned by such a vision of beauty.” He spun and took a few steps away to flip through a book. “Of course, it’s not often I’m summoned at all these days. I’m told that demons are so passe. Which means you might not be familiar with one of the subclauses of our agreement.”

“Subclauses?” she asked. She felt a little breathless, and very unsettled. She held her hand close to her chest, unsure of whether she was protecting it from further kisses or cherishing the kiss it had received. There had been a few suitors over the past couple of years, but her parents had scared them all away with their fighting before she could even get a good look at them.

“Of course!” The demon propped a leg on the table and leaned on his knee, grinning at her.

That’s a leer, she thought, or maybe an ogle? She felt a fluttering nervousness in her belly. Why does being leered at by a demon feel so… nice?

“You see,” the demon went on, “I don’t currently have a bride to share my kingdom, and when you summoned me, you volunteered. So what do you say? Do you want to say your goodbyes before you go, or leave them hanging?”

She felt her lips spreading into a grin of her own, partly from the unfamiliar pleasure of being complimented and wanted, and partly at the thought of her parents’ reactions when she disappeared, never to be fought over again. Part of her mind, though, wasn’t distracted by flattery any more than by screaming insults. She shook her head. “There’s no clause like that,” she said with certainty. “The price was defined by my invocation, and you agreed to it by appearing. Three live chickens represented by the feathers I held in my right hand, and the three fire opals I held in my left. The opals and feathers disappeared, presumably along with the chickens from their coops, and you appeared. Bargain done.”

The demon laughed, a mellow, friendly laugh. He spread his hands wide and shrugged. “Smart as well as beautiful,” he said. “You’re right, you’re not required to come with me. But you do have the option, if you’re interested in somewhere… more alive.” He waved a hand, taking in the dusty room and the inhospitable whole of the castle in one gesture. “I’d love to have you with me. As a guest, if not my bride. I can show you around a bit, take a little tour of the dimensions, and then you can decide whether you want to come home with me or come back here. What do you say?” He held out a hand, palm up in open invitation.

She stared at it as if it were a snake, pressing herself back into the door. When she looked up at his face, he smiled still, but it no longer looked like a leer to her, just like a simple, genuine smile. She looked around the room, imagining the rest of the castle and her parents still fighting in the throne room. What was there to keep her here except no place else to go?

Escape, she thought. And maybe a friend… The demon still smiled, but she thought he was starting to look a little sad, as the moment stretched out and she still said nothing. He’s waiting for me to say no, she thought. Or he’s just manipulating me. He’s a truth demon, but obviously experienced at misdirection.

She examined his face, reminding herself with every foreign feature that he was an unknown power, with unknown motivations. I should say no, she thought, considering the danger. But if I say no, then nothing changes. I’m still stuck here, with my parents who hate each other because of me.

She eased away from the door, took a deep breath, and then took the demon’s hand in hers. “I say let’s go,” she said, and an instant later they were gone.