“You brash little—” Malphas bodily interjected himself between Beelzebub and his mistress. “Do not even entertain the thought,” he practically snarled. “I will not allow you to treat her like a simple tool. And besides, were you not just accusing me of lowering myself?”  

“It would be a fair exchange, one-hundred and ten percent. I know better than to turn my back on my word… and understandably, she had to sacrifice something of considerable value to solicit the aid of an archdemon... but all I’d ask for was her cooperation. I’d even take back that which was stolen from her,” Beelzebub drew an X over his heart and Seraphina felt breathless, phantasmal heartbeat escalating as her grip tightened, nails biting painfully into the corners of the leather cover. “Unimaginable power is pretty negotiable too, I would say,” the Lord of the Flies said as he crossed his hands behind his skull. “And with the Gold Grimoire amplifying her latent talents, swooping in and crushing the opposition would be a cinch. And then, we can turn the fight to the Consortium and destroy that paltry barrier once and for all. You’d never have to be afraid again, Phi.”  

“I gave you my warning,” Malphas gritted out as a dark shadow of thinly veiled rage threatened to upset his gentlemanly persona. “As if you wouldn’t keep the spoils for yourself; you gluttonous fiend.”  

“Malphas the Treacherous,” Beelzebub droned mockingly. “And who’s to say that you won’t stab her while her back is turned?”  

“I wouldn’t—” 

“I have no reason to trust that you’d keep your word,” Seraphina interpolated, leading the two men to forget their ongoing argument and reface her. Although she was struggling to keep the incoming anxiety from violating her hackneyed sangfroid, she scrabbled together what failing pieces she could to form a passable mask. “... As far as I’m concerned, you don’t exactly seem like the honorable type. And besides, infinite power doesn’t exactly appeal to me. If I surrender the book, I’d be giving away my only chance at uncovering the truth... and as I mentioned before, being indebted to others leaves a bad taste in my mouth... so I am perfectly capable of figuring out the rest on my own, I assure you.” 

“Huh,” Beelzebub tipped his head to the side confusedly. “... You aren’t like your peers, that’s for certain. If it was any old magister, they’d jump at the chance to hold the world in the palms of their hands. I don’t know if I should commend you for being one of the few overtly unselfish people in this infernal world,” he grinned knowingly. “... Or is it just the result of your dangerous curiosity? At the end of the day, I can tell that you don’t have a speck of compassion for yourself. It’s nothing but pure instinct.” 

Seraphina chose not to answer. Instead, she turned to Malphas. ”... Can you get us back?” 

Malphas, who appeared a bit put off by her straightforwardness, deliberately coughed and promptly reassembled himself, bowing his head. “With ease, Lady Seraphina.” 

“... Good. Let’s leave, then. I don’t want to waste another second in this place... oh, but beforehand,” Seraphina chucked the book over to her familiar as she marched up to the Lord of the Flies, and beckoned with her hand. “Give him back to me.” 

“... Uh, who?”  

“Regulus! Give me Regulus!”  

“Who the fuck is... oh, that. Where’d you come from to get such wicked gizmos,” Beelzebub manifested his pickings like a magician pulling a rabbit out of their top hat. When he returned the luggage to her, she unlaced it and ferreted around inside, double-checking the contents: their spare food, other miscellaneous supplies... a blessedly undamaged cellphone, and an intact wallet. “Regulus,” was also generally safe, and Seraphina let out a relieved sigh before retying the bag and hefting it over her shoulder. “You know, girlie... I decided to take a little peek while I was waiting for you to arrive, and... goddamn, you have some weird ass tastes. I’d run if I were you, Malphy.”  

“... Duly noted, Lord Beelzebub. And try not to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong again,” Malphas chided. 

Beelzebub waved his hand. “Oh, piss off. You’ve already gone and shit on my good day, so you better be happy that I’m letting y’all off easy. I’ll be keeping my eye on you though, girl,” he pointed at his eyes then spun the gesture around. “Try not to get snatched by the Consortium ‘til I see the fruits of your labor take flight. Once you’ve got a handle on that thing, I’ll come back and test your might again... surely, you won’t deny me a fair duel, right?”  

“I assume that you’re the kind of person who doesn’t like taking “no” for an answer, so... sure,” Seraphina dismissed as she and her familiar exchanged baggage. “... But did you... like what you read?”  

“Uh... it was fine, I guess?”  

“We’ll have to talk about it more next time, then! It’s rare to find other Dark Ode fans in the wild,” Seraphina flashed the demon an eager thumbs up and a wink. “I pretty much have the other volumes memorized by heart, so I’ll even take the time to transcribe it for you so you aren’t too confused! All right, bye for now!”  

After Seraphina and the other demon disappeared from the scene, a few fairies wandered down to attend to their perturbed master as he studied his gauntleted hand. “... I stuck my damn fist through that girl’s chest... and she wants to gossip about her shitty taste in literature with me? Huh,” he reached back to scratch around his head.  

“... I might have dodged a bullet with that one.” 

“Hey, demon.” 

When they rendezvoused back at their blessedly untouched campground, Malphas had been nursing a creamy soup in a cauldron, briefly sampling the taste and nodding to himself before taking the time to disseminate it. “It’s a little hot. Careful,” he told his mistress, and while Seraphina accepted the generous offering on account of her empty stomach, she ultimately placed it aside and stood where she had been seated on a log. Fisting her shirtfront, that is, after Malphas had contributed some ingenious sleight of hand, magic undoubtedly to re-thread what had been torn, the dress essentially as good as new— Seraphina swallowed around the unobliging lump in her throat and did not bother to beat around the bush thereafter.  

“... I was wondering what I would have had to pay to earn your loyalty. My heart... or lack thereof,” she hissed. “... And you intended to keep me in the dark, didn’t you? You knew that you could hold this over me and force my compliance if I ever tried to nullify our pact.”  

And the man had the audacity to seem disillusioned. Malphas sighed and relocated himself to the ground as he tentatively crossed his legs, dark strands of hair shadowing his lowered profile. “... I... I did not intend on anything, Lady Seraphina. I would have told you, but... I fear that the shock of it all would have been too much for you to bear. Whether you believe in the rumors or doubt my sincerity, I assure you that I never would have asked for such a steep price... but that was what the spirit within that accursed tome offered in exchange for saving your life. You... are bound to it, not me.”  

“What... does that mean?” 

“It means that your souls are intertwined, which is why you and you alone can empathize with it as if it were a living entity... and should it ever fall into the wrong hands... even if you voluntarily surrendered it to another; your lives would be forfeit, and the unprecedented power contained within would doubtless discharge... and create another Silverwood, I surmise. Again, I had no intention of keeping this information from you... but knowing that you have been enslaved by your own fate... I myself would not have taken it lightly. But,” the demon straightened his legs and reapproached Seraphina, hesitating before reaccepting her cheek into his hand as a taloned thumb gently caressed the arc of her cheekbone. 

“... I bow to you because I believe in your innate willpower— your goodness. More than anything, you desire to keep moving forward... So if I can extend my hand and help you find the means to shatter this infernal curse, then... consider my life yours. Everything,” Malphas reached down to cup her hands instead, and Seraphina felt her face grow warm when he proceeded to crane his neck to drop a kiss upon her knuckles, then smoothed a thumb across it in a way that almost seemed tender.  

“... Everything I can offer... I will give it to you. Whether that means dying... or living for you.”