He exposed himself.  Tristan had broken ancient law. 

"I was banished, Aaron. Laws of the other worlds don't control me anymore. They don't have to control you unless you're planning to go back," he argued as though it were a minor debate.

"You know I can't," I said. 

"You came here. You came to me. I never forced you. So if you want my help, try to keep an open mind," Tristan said while I stood unmoving, and he went about the room fixing things in their place. 

His tone, cavalier and without the hesitation of doubt, was the only thing keeping me in that shop of relics and totems as the owner, Tarlac, came out of hiding. As the round-bellied man dressed in purple hues closed the finer distance between earshot and conversation, I finally relented. Tristan turned to stand at my side but rested a hand on my shoulder when he saw my eyes dart for the door.

"You're late," Tarlac, with hands on hips, shook his head in disapproval, but My roommate turned his attention away.

The human had an air about him. It went beyond his handlebar mustache and a fine-tailored suit. No, it wasn't in his child-like cheeks, but the atmosphere around him was chaotic. The scent of magic. All around him, from small leather boots to protruding vest, there was magic present. But what article did the man carry that held so much spark?

"I told you I was bringing a friend," Tristan argued with a sigh. 

My demon was tall enough to look down on his boss, but thanks to poor posture, Tristan stood perhaps eye to eye with his hands in his pockets.

"Another of your friends is a liability I can't afford," Tarlac said before Tristan added, "Not this one. Aaron is from the 'other other' side." 

The owner turned from his employee to gaze upon me with fantasy in his eye.

"You couldn't possibly mean," he gasped and held my hands like a schoolgirl.

"He's an angel. He's my angel," Tristan disclosed while stepping between myself and his superior. 

They had an unusual relationship, which made sense. The idea of a demon working at the behest of a human was perplexing, but Tristan's attitude informed me that his employer had little control over his behavior.

"I'm your friend," I corrected while the human began circling. 

For someone with legs so small and body so big, he moved rather well. 

"A black angel?" Tarlac said.

"Why does my color matter?" I questioned.

"I always imagined demons were black as coal. Assume my surprise when your keeper, with skin white as snow, walked into my shop," the man chuckled while attempting to touch my back. 

Tristan moved me out of range, but the human persisted in his inspection.

"Trisal, Tristan is not my keeper," I said, to which Tristan questioned, " My lover then?"

"An angel with skin dark as the Harold's sky, I'm intrigued, regardless of your relationship," Tarlac said. 

"Aaron is willing to work for you under the deal we struck. But he is mine. If you're students make any attempts on his life, our business will end, and I'll see you eviscerated in hells your kind can't comprehend," Tristan threatened on my behalf, and finally, his superior ceased the discomforting game. 

"Is this true? Would you work for me, Black Angel?" Tarlac fixed his vest and stood as tall as his spine would allow. 

I shook my head at the improper moniker while asking, "How does this work?"

"Tarlac has a class. In it, he teaches humans how to craft unique magical items. Most objects are useless because they need fuel, and that's where we come in. I agreed to help charge his student's objects in exchange for learning to craft conduits for myself," Tristan explained. 

But how did my roommate learn he could offer such a service? 

"Beings from the other side generate so much magical energy it practically spills out of you at every chance it gets. All you need to do is touch a magical object, and your power naturally flows into it," Tarlac said while holding out his right hand to show off an ancient emerald ring. 

From the jewel, a bright flashing light emanated till it died suddenly. Tristan stepped from my guard to stand beside Tarlac. They exchanged the ring, and I watched as its glow returned.

"That necklace you were playing with earlier probably has enough juice to start a fire," Tristan said and tossed the ring up into the air. 

Tarlac nearly fumbled and lost the jewelry as it came down, but he caught it and clumsily returned the band to his finger. 

"I have a dozen students all across the city, and with my class growing in popularity, soon I'll have far more. Only a select few know of the existence of your kind in this world, and they need their objects recharged regularly."

"And you expect me to deliver my magic like a pizza?" I said.

"You don't have to," Tristan answered, but Tarlac added, "Help me, and I will teach you how to make a conduit. From what your friend has told me. Living here in this world is difficult without your gifts. I can be your answer."

The shopkeep gave me a welcoming smile, but his eyes were full of desperation. The sweat growing on his brow only furthered my observation. 

"You don't have to like him, Aaramose, but we can trust Tarlac. And helping the students will show you how to craft your conduit," Tristan said while Tarlac held his hand out to me. 

Gritting my teeth, I struggled to accept what had become of my life. My hand began to reach for Tarlac's, and as I shook it, I demanded, "No one is to call me Black Angel."