Malec: Together Forever

Lydiyaas

Magnus was already feeling like half of his magic was missing when he finally got his summoning pentagram all set up. Just when he thought he should be slouching down on the sofa to rest for some while and maybe find Alec to keep him company, the doorbell buzzed.

Magnus went and answered the call. "WHO DARES INTERRUPT THE HIGH WARLOCK OF BROOKLYN AT WORK?" he boomed.

A small tuft of shivering dark brown hair appeared at the bottom of the screen. Then a pair of brown eyes appeared, then a slightly crooked nose. "I am H-H-H-Harold D-D-D-Dwellcourt, s-s-sir. I am h-h-here f-f-for my d-d-d-d-d-demon s-summoning d-d-d-deal, sir." The shivering man said with a terrified voice.

"Oh. It's you. Come in, then." Magnus said as he unlocked his door.

With a sigh of relief Harold stepped away from the intercom, and walked up the stairs.

Harold appeared slightly panting. Magnus slammed the door close behind the mundane with a snap of his fingers. The man jumped with a small shriek and turned back towards Magnus with an apological smile. He was a small balding man, around the age of forty or fifty, with a suit that was originally black, now dark-brown, --a clear sign that it was used for a long time-- with occasional small holes dotted here and there on his jacket a his pants. His shoes, like his suit, were also strewn through with holes and were dark-brown.

"Sorry," Harold said. "I tend to get nervous in unfamiliar places."

Magnus handed Harold some magazines. "You might want to read while I chant, or you can cover your eyes with them, if you are too terrified."

With a quavering nod he took the magazines, and Magnus didn't know what Harold did with his magazines afterwards, because Magnus had started chanting and was quickly deep into the summoning spell.

The pentagram began to glow. The fire on the candles flicked more strongly than ever, and as Magnus chanted even more quickly, his voice (sounding like cackling fire) sounded like a music background for the fiercely-glowing candles.

I summon you, Lydiyaas, the arch-demon under Asmodeus...

With a whoosh a wind generated from the middle of the pentagram knocked Magnus over. He landed on the unfortunate Harold, who was starting to whimper and sound like he was going to cry any minute. Magnus got up quickly, bounding away from him.

"WHO DARES TO SUMMON ME?" A deep and rough voice sounded in the pentagram.

There was smoke gathering in the pentagram. Together with his own tar-like substances, Lydiyaas appeared, with two balls of fire as his eyes.

Lydiyaas had a solid but slimy black body, hands with only one limb, ending in a poisonous needle on each of them. His legs were like shifting mist: sometimes they were clawed talons, sometimes just a floating cloud, and sometimes human legs. 

"Me," Magnus said confidently, straightening his clothes. "Well, not exactly me, but he," --he pointed at Harold, clinging to his leg like he wanted to hide himself inside Magnus' leg-- "Seems to be too scared to admit it."

"Magnus Bane, you scoundrel, how dare you summon me?" The demon's eyes blazed more strongly than ever. If fury could ever be presented as fire, then Lydiyaas' eyes must be blazing with anger. "I do not want to see you." He frowned when he saw Harold. "And what on earth is a mundane doing in your house?"

"P-P-P-Pardon me, er, sir, I am Harold Dwellcourt. As you see---"

"I don't see,"

"Sorry, but I was going to say that-"

"Please do speak up, mundane," Lydiyaas spat out the last word like it was the most dirty word in Hell. "I can barely hear you."

"Sorry," Harold said, with a slightly louder voice. "I was going to ask if you, er, can, ah, help me with...my family fortunes." He spoke the last words like a shame, his voice only just slightly louder than his breath.

"I beg your pardon?" The demon was already as close to his borders as possible, yet he still couldn't hear Harold. Even Magnus couldn't.

"My family fortunes." This time, Harold was loud enough to let Magnus hear his words, but the demon seemed to be having hearing problems, or maybe because the borders of the pentagram was sound-insulating, the demon could not hear him.

"What?" Lydiyaas asked.

"My family fortunes." Harold said, this time at half a shout already. However, Lydiyaas was either deaf, or he was just playing with Harold, because confusion was still clearly shown on his face.

"DO SPEAK UP, WILL YOU?" Clearly too impatient to wait any longer to hear what Harold had said, Lydiyaas yelled at Harold, his eyes a blazing pair of crimson fire.

Harold shrunk back from standing next to Magnus to whimpering in the corner of the living room. "Now, now, stop all the fuss," Magnus said in the end. "Harold was just asking if you could increase his family fortunes. As you can see-"

"I don't see."

Magnus ignored him. "-from his clothes, Harold's family seems to be in much of a need for money."

For a few moment the demon froze. Then he started laughing. "Muahahahadanes... hahaha... oh... you entertain me, muhahahadane..." Tears of fire were rolling down his face, but Lydiyaas didn't seem to care.

Harold, in the meantime, was horrified. "But, but, I'm serious, sir! I'm desperately in need of a few trillions-"

"Bah, humbug."

"Quoting Scrooge now, aren't we?" Magnus interrupted.

Lydiyaas ignored him. "Demons are not for money-lending. We do not involve ourselves in foolish mundane business. Speaking of which," Lydiyaas turned towards Magnus, his eyes almost joining together, burning like they were trying to get out of their sockets (if there were any). "You should've known that, Magnus Bane. I know that you hate me, but you do not need to irritate me by making me do this stupid money lending for a mundane. And so shall you pay for that."

Magnus began to feel something going wrong. He turned to tell Harold that the demon would not lend the money, that he could go, the business had failed. But the man was gone already. 

Magnus shrugged and was just about to turn and banish Lydiyaas, when he suddenly felt claws, long and sharp, closing in fast on his neck, dragging him backwards.

Magnus tore at his throat, desperately trying to pry away the claws that held him, but he felt nothing on his throat. He could feel his neck, normal and alive, yet his lungs were screaming for air.

Magnus Bane...you have always been such a pest. Let me take you to your father...it is an honorable favour I am doing for you.

"No," Magnus managed to croak before Lydiyaas' claws crushed his voice.

I banish you, Lydiyaas, the arch-demon of Asmodeus... Magnus thought desperately in his head, chanting faster and faster, faster than he had ever been.

Lydiyaas laughed, a low, cracked laugh. You think you can banish me, little warlock? You are too-

What are you doing? The demon's voice became full of fear, the mockery long lost.

Magnus could feel Lydiyaas' grip loosening, though his lungs were still burning, the air still not getting in. With a last forceful banish spell, the demon's grip loosened to nothing, dropping Magnus onto the floor.

His elbows supported him, but they were so weak that he could not support himself after a few moments. His breath was recovering, but his vision was getting blurry, and the world spun. There were black spots dancing in front of his eyes, looking just like snow, piling up like snow. Magnus heard a blast, saw Alec running out from his room, and fell into unconsciousness.