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Arc 9 Chapter XIX: Devil's Due

Gotta love it when my narcoleptic ass goes for a short nap at 1 after noon and then wakes up when the sun is already down.

Probably trying to subconsciously escape the dread gremlin's judgement now that I think about it. It is too fascinated by the devils' assets to accept its due fate.

Thankfully, the thot has no power over the honest hardworking Mer.

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(General POV)

Wyll Ravengard felt his heart jump to his throat and his stomach drop to his groin as his patron slithered onto the material plane, the words of everyone else simply disappearing from his mind as he felt the familiar ache around the eye he had lost.

"Wyll." The devil whom he had sold his soul to to save Baldur's Gate so many years ago purred smugly "You've been naughty." 

"And you know what happens." She went on tutting as she approached him, placing a finger under his chin "When you are naughty."

"Gods damn it." He absently noticed Karlach curse "Anyone but her."

"And who the hell are you?" He was almost thankful for Durge's familiar growl, and the fact Lae'zel and Astarion were already circling Mizora with their weapons drawn.

Almost.

Like she had just noticed a new toy, the devil rounded on the imposing lizardman and smiled with false cheer as she took two steps toward him, just close enough not to actually make him attack "I am Mizora." She offered a mocking incline of her head "Wyll's patron, the fount of his power."

Every word felt like a noblewoman bragging about her favored dog.

"And my pet." She said and her face twisted with furious hate for just a split second "Has been unruly." She finally turned back to face him "His leash needs a yank."

Wyll felt a sudden pressure around his throat, and was nearly pulled off his feet as the invisible force pulled him once more a few inches away from his patron.

"We had a deal, Wyll." She hissed down at his curled form "And yet Karlach is still breathing." She looked on behind him with a false smile "Oh and hey dear. Zariel sends her regards."

"Go fuck yourself Mizora." Said Tiefling spat back at her, hands clutched around the haft of her greataxe so hard they looked almost pink "I've taken more pleasant shits than you, and at least those can be buried after."

"That's no kind of talk for a lady." The devil tutted.

The rage and humiliation building in Wyll finally managed to overwhelm his fear as he forced himself to glare up at his owner "You told me devils only." He managed through gritted teeth "She is a Tiefling! Not a monster!"

"Oh how precious." This all only seemed to amuse her as she looked down at him with a smirk best described as deranged "The little pupster has found his bark."

The glee in her eyes didn't diminish and in fact only seemed to grow as she began listing "Clause G, Section Nine: The targets shall be limited to the infernal, the demonic, the heartless, and the soulless." She smiled down at him "Karlach has no heart."

"Why is she still talking?" Durge cut her off, a haze of ice forming within his clutched fist.

"Don't." Shadowheart warned "She is a devil. She must have some kind of assurance."

Wyll wanted to send her a look of gratitude but knew better than to draw Mizora's attention away from himself.

All for naught, as the amused devil happily looked directed the cleric with a sideways glance "Quite right, little priest." She smirked "Should you cut me down, dear Wyll here will turn into a lemure, and be sucked down directly into the Hells." 

The fact the scaled sorcerer still seemed tempted to gut the devil woman made Wyill feel just a touch less grateful.

With a fresh glint of cruelty in her eyes, Mizora faced Wyll fully again "Which reminds me..." 

She raised her hand and the Balduran adventurer began praying to all the gods he knew as the air around him began smelling of brimstone, and he felt a disgusting fiery tug on his soul, and-

Suddenly, just as it came, the feeling disappeared.

"My, to be ignored in my own campsite. How novel." The half amused, half disgusted voice of the odd (and quite terrifying) elf who carried the promise of salvation cut through the air.

And all the pressure Mizora had been exerting to keep everyone back without them knowing simply... vanished. In its place came a weight so immense and absolute one could be forgiven for believing a mountain had fell on top of them.

To Wyll's utter confusion, while the rest of his fellow mindflayer victims only seemed pressured by the weight, Mizora was barely standing on her own two feet.

The previously smug and victorious devil was now trembling in place, her face pale, and her eyes filled with naught but terror as she looked up to the source of it all.

"Who-" She began.

"Shhh." Reyvin Dagoth placed a finger over his lips as he strolled over to them, his steps almost languid "You will speak only when spoken to, worm."

That Mizora actually listened to the order left Wyll feeling completely and utterly lost.

So lost he almost missed the elf addressing him "So, Wyll. You said you were in a pact with this..." He sneered "Creature."

"Yes." The Balduran nodded, rubbing at his now free neck.

Dagoth tilted his head, considered him briefly, and asked a simple yet most damning of questions "Why?"

Wyll's lips turned dry and he went to deny his ability to speak of it, as per his contract, but to his complete confusion he found the restrictions and constant looming sense of doom were missing.

As if they were never there to begin with.

He still hesitated, the instincts ingrained to him by his station making his eye find Mizora to look for approval. And he nearly managed to stop it but not quickly enough to miss the roiling hatred and humiliation in the devil's eyes.

No doubt taking his silence for hesitation, Dagoth decided to press him, and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder "Have no fear." He said "She can do nothing to you with me here."

"And what happens when you leave?" Wyll asked bitterly despite himself.

The elf only chuckled at this "That depends entirely on your answer, I am afraid." He shrugged "I cannot force you to risk your soul for something you don't understand, but neither will I help you if you do not ask for it."

Annoyed by the cryptic 'reassurance' Wyll was almost tempted to just take the punishment of his pact but the promise of pain and suffering that would no doubt bring stopped him, and he was just tired enough that part of him simply didn't care anymore.

"There was a cult." He began, and found that each word came easier than the last "Near Baldur's Gate."

Mizora trembled with fury but the instant she tried to reach for him with either magic or her hands when that failed there was a sizzling noise and the distinct smell of cooked flesh. Nothing visible happened by the sheer agony what little of a pained grunt she managed made a few of those surrounding her take a few steps back.

"They wanted to summon Tiamat." Wyll went on and knowing the elf was foreign he added "The goddess of the evil dragons."

Dagoth no doubt wanted to ask more but he could go to Gale for his history lessons, Wyll decided.

"Something drew me there." He said, the haze of memory long past lifting "And I found them before they were done with their ritual." He frowned "But I was not strong enough to defeat them."

"And let me guess." Dagoth drawled "A useful devil just so happened to be nearby to offer you and your home salvation."

Wyll grit his teeth at the reminder of his sacrifice but all he could do was force a nod "Yes."

"The story practically writes itself." The elf chuckled.

The Balduran had a few choice words for that but chose to hold them back and continued with his story.

If he was going to lose his soul today, he might as well get the weight off his chest.

"Mizora's pact gave me the strength to defeat them. It made it almost too easy." He shook his head "But when I returned home, she followed, and the pact made me unable to tell my father what happened." He sighed "I was banished from the city I saved by my own father for consorting with devils."

"And was it worth it?" The elf quirked an eyebrow.

For the first time since this entire evening began, Wyll finally felt certain in something "Yes."

There was silence then, one that was soon filled with the sound of a chuckle and then of laughter, the elf's gauntleted hands clapping against each other "Oh how I love idiotic self-sacrifice."

"One last question." Wyll's angry reply was preempted "How old were you when it happened?"

"Seventeen." He said through gritted teeth.

"I see, I see." Dagoth nodded to himself a couple of times before looking down at Mizora "I will have of you a yes or no answer, in the spirit of the question and not the letter lest you wish to truly anger me for a good few centuries."

Mizora glared at him hatefully but still rasped out an "Ask."

And the moment she did, Wyll felt complete and utter terror run down his spine.

Because when she opened her mouth he saw her teeth as well as the flesh within were blackened and torn, as if someone had forced her to swallow fiery coals every time she tried to speak without permission.

Something told him that was exactly what had happened, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.

"Did you, or did you not, arrange for the Cult of Tiamat to prepare an assault upon Baldur's Gate and then lead one 'Wyll Ravengard' to their position before blackmailing him into a pact for his eternal soul?"

The question was asked with such disinterest it almost went over everyone's head but an instant later, as Wyll actually heard what was said and his eye narrowed, all the different pieces falling finally together.

His confusion was rather quickly replaced by such simmering hatred he had already unsheathed his rapier and moved to stab the fucking whore who tricked him-

Only for the blade to be slapped out of his hand and himself be shoved backwards with a mutter of "Patience." Only he could hear.

There was what looked almost like a flash of disappointment in Mizora's eyes as she saw Wyll fail to banish her and she looked to her captor "Yes." She practically spat out.

"How disgustingly uncreative." Reyvin drawled.

"Oh do get off your high horse, spirit." Mizora spat and looked almost confused that she wasn't incinerated on the spot.

Seeing the amused glint in the elf's eyes she understood he wanted her to speak, and so she did "I was looking for a new pet after my last one failed me for the final time, a higher being like myself has to have some entertainment."

"Mhm, quite." Reyvin drawled.

"Much like yourself, now that I think about it." She sneered up at him "Or did you not gather a group of pets who had no choice but to accept your deal for your own entertainment?'

"My oh my." Reyvin placed a hand over his heart as he felt some of the party look at him with curious but not accusing eyes, for the most part "You seem to be confusing temporary retainers with stealing someone's fucking immortal soul!"

The rise in pressure was so sudden, the devil had no time to prepare herself as she was nearly flattened against the dirt.

"I am honestly not surprised you equate the two, you filthy fucking discount Daedra." Dagoth scoffed and shook his head "Wyll."

"Yes?" The Balduran adventurer who had finally gotten back on his feet shuffled at the sudden intensity of the attention.

"For the sake of posterity." He began "Do you want to end your unlawful contract with this thing?"

Mizora snarled and the others tensed as they saw flames begin to flicker around her hands, but that lasted only for a split second as she was surrounded by a veritable wall of runes and glyphs none could recognize.

The devil paled even further as she felt her magic leave her utterly and the chains keeping her from just teleporting out of here snapping around her completely and utterly.

So complete was the binding she couldn't even breathe, though she never had to in the first place.

All of this happened in the space of a moment, and served as the final flailing attempt to stop the words that came out of Wyll's mouth "Yes."

His voice was bitter and angry, having just realized half of his life had been a lie. But he was no less certain for it.

Reyvin simply nodded and levitated the discarded rapier into his hand.

It was a simple thing, by his standards. Made of solid steel and with only minor but tasteful ornamentation.

He hovered his hand over it, and to the observer it seemed as if he simply summoned another wave of unknown glyphs around it, as their crackling deep purple light concealed what was truly happening.

The flareup faded just as quickly as it came and seemingly nothing had changed save for an almost invisible grey sheen that now covered the dueling sword.

With a silent solemnity, Reyvin offered it to Wyll hilt first, and he took it with only minor hesitance.

"Go." The elf said, his eyes indicating at the devil "Win your freedom."

With hands that should have been trembling but were somehow as sure as the steel they now held, the warlock faced his patron.

Mizora's eyes were terrified and pleading but despite her attempts no sound came from her trembling lips.

Which suited Wyll just fine, as he threw all of his hatred into the thrust aimed at her heart, one that came with a scream charged with all the pain he had suffered.

The sword pierced infernal flesh as if it were parchment, and for a moment that seemed to be it, as small drops of the devil's blood began flowing down the blade.

But then Mizora's neck twisted as she threw her head back in a silent scream that went heard despite the lack of sound, as her very soul was stripped from her and flowed into the rapier, before even her body was set alight in baleful grey flame and then, with a poof that seemed almost anti climactic, she simply... disappeared.

Wyll stared down at his sword with wide eyes, its length was now covered with glowing purple rules and flowing with a very familiar power.

A power that was now not restricted by his contract but merely by his own mastery over himself.

Once more, Wyll felt a gauntleted hand land atop his shoulder "A heroic dumbass like yourself will need all the power he can get to survive your own idiocy." Reyvin patted his shoulder a few times before retracting his hand.

"Besides." He chuckled darkly "She does still owe you the use of her power. It is in her own contract after all."

"So she is really in there?" Wyll asked, not knowing how to feel.

"Oh quite." Reyvin nodded "I was tempted to make every living moment agony, but I am an elf of my word and she did answer honestly the first time I asked." He finished with a shrug.

Wyll frowned "But you said-"

"I implied." A raised finger interrupted him "I implied souls are sacred and not to be fucked with, but that is only for when you aren't an irredeemably evil hack." He tilted his head "Like for example someone deranged enough to risk the destruction of an entire city to lure a kid into selling his soul for their own amusement."

Wyll, having nothing to say to that, wisely grunted.

"Just don't model your morality on what I do and you'll be fine." The elf chuckled "But I do believe that is enough philosophizing for one evening. Can't be overwhelming your poor human brain too much, now can I?"

Not waiting for an answer, Reyvin strolled away while, as usual, ignoring everyone's questioning looks.

Wyll looked down at the blade now holding Mizora's soul, momentarily considered he should free her on principle... And promptly decided she deserved everything that came to her and more.

For now though, he allowed himself to think of the freedom that he had secretly been longing for for well over a decade, and his mind wandered to a particular item they had found in the toll station.

With a grin spreading across his face he wasn't even aware of, he looked to the annoyed dragonborn "Durge, break out the ale kegs!"

Which was enough to wipe the annoyance off said albino lizard's face in an instant.

(Reyvin's POV)

'You know.' Scorch began 'You are giving way too many handouts to these n'wahs.'

"Handouts?" I quirked an eyebrow, satisfied smirk plastered on my face "I just corrected a legal conundrum in the favor of the offended party."

'Uh huh.' Scorch deadpanned.

"Besides." I added "That devil lady was terribly rude." I scoffed "What kind of a wannabe Daedra doesn't greet a literal demigod in their presence?"

I could feel Scorch's unimpressed stare at the back of my head 'Pops, you literally made yourself unnoticeable with the cloak.'

"Oh." I covered my mouth with the tips of my fingers like some dainty scandalized lady.

"My bad."

Comments

I’m adding this to my list of favorite chapters to revisit on particularly frustrating days

Keeponlaffin

Thanks for the chapter

Nazarickk

Oh the deliciousness, mizora reduced to a literal object for wyll to use in his heroics, *chef's kiss*

Skye Morningstar


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