Chapter 2: Cross Road Blues“...and it has been suggested that any and all signatures, seals, scrawls or other manifestations of one's individual mark upon the unholy parchment shall serve as witness to the contractual bond of each respective bearer...”

The soft whisper fell upon dusty shelves and even dustier tomes, the municipal library long since closed to the public. A single pony sat alone at one of the rickety tables, seven or eight books surrounding him. His nose was buried in one particular book, but one of his hooves marked a spot in a second encyclopedia-sized publication as the other wrist slowly rubbed at his scalp. A messy mane of pale crimson hung over his dark green eyes, thin bloodshot vessels visible around the iris from the hours of extensive research and poring through ancient pages. “So more than one pony can be bound by the contract...”

He leaned back with a grimace, stretching his forelegs slowly above his head before cursing as the page he'd marked with a hoof was lost, the cracked spine of the ages-old book causing several barely-legible pages to leap from one side to the other. The pegasus sighed and rubbed at his forehead before looking around the silent library. All the lights had been dimmed except for the lamp on his own table – one perk of his occupation was the unlimited use of the city's largest library, even far beyond closing hours for the regular patrons. And at this point it seems like the only perk... He wrinkled his muzzle before tossing an absent glance down at the cutie mark adoring his flank: a set of golden scales, tilted slightly to one side. They were the universal symbol of Justice, or at least they were for the nation of Equestria. He knew for a fact that the rarely-spoken-of civilizations on the other ends of the globe had different cultures, spoke different languages and even possessed their own unique system of symbolism. It helped that he often spent hours poring over old history books, always interested in those rare gems that detailed (or at least made vague attempts at a minute description of) those distance nations. It was, however, also the same reason he was quite possibly one of the least successful lawyers in all of Equestria.

Riffraff mumbled disconsolately and shoved one of the closed books moodily from the table, jumping despite himself at the ominous slam that echoed through the empty building. “They always say, 'Your cutie mark just says what your special talent is – you don't have to make that your life! You can do anything you like!' Horse apples. Everyone ends up doing exactly what they're supposed to do. Why couldn't I have a damn atlas or a history book or even a damn...question mark.” He continued to grumble and buried his head under his forelegs as he mentally cursed every step he'd taken through his life – even against his own intentions – that had led him to the grand and fabulous world of law.

The semi-muscular pony had spent the last three years floundering as one of Tailsa's most loathed lawyers, despite putting his best hoof forward with each and every court case in which he'd been involved. He had started his career as a defense attorney but had been fired from firm after firm due to the unnatural depth of his research and arguments. Even now, however, as a less-than-assistant district attorney, he hardly saw the light of a courtroom unless the city's legal department was either desperate to close a minor case or simply didn't care of the outcome.

After his miserable completion of the local law school's one-track program, the pegasus found that the best way for him to cope with his unwanted skills was to treat the law as if he were a historian. The only time he felt content with his profession was when he dove into the research process, picking apart every potential argument and every known past case related to those which he was assigned. The downside, however, was when he took those in-depth discoveries and began to elaborate upon them in the courtroom. Few judges and even fewer juries could tolerate his verbose examinations and statements, regardless of which side he fought for.

He'd been grudgingly hired at an extremely poor salary by the city's legal department, utilized often for those cases when the defense attorney might have the tendency to filibuster, or for the long, dragging civil cases, and otherwise in any situation when none of the other DAs deigned a case worthy of their time or attention. As a result, his life had not quite panned out as it should have for a pony successfully achieving his goal of becoming a lawyer...not that this had ever really been Riffraff's dream. Besides indulging in the occasional mystery of some long-lost historical conundrum, the crimson pegasus also made stubborn – albeit mostly pitiful – attempts to improve in his one true hobby: the guitar.

Since his youth, as the foal of two mildly successful ponies, Riff had always dreamed of becoming a great musician. He'd never understood why, instead of a toy piano or small guitar or even a simple drum set, his parents had given him books concerning law and education. Instead of having the chance to attend the concert of his favorite band, he'd been brought to his father's prominent court cases to watch the “well-respected” Sharp Justice prosecute some criminal or another. His mother, while less insistent than her husband, had still persisted in pushing the young pegasus to educate and further his mind, teaching him to read before he could even properly canter about their small yard. Though Bromecilia's profession of teaching at the local foal's school had less flair than Sharp Justice's aura of legal grandeur, Riffraff had at least always tolerated having to sit in his mother's classroom when the babysitter could not be afforded that week – this had happened more and more often after his parent's divorce, when his mother had won near total custody of him after Sharp Justice had all but intentionally destroyed the potential of any judge ruling in his favor.

Perhaps it had been this resentment for his father that drove Riffraff to attend the nearest law university after graduation, at first determined to become a better lawyer than Sharp had been or ever could be. But his love for music returned with passion during his first few months of living semi-independently. Bromecilia had always sensed her son's fondness for music, and despite receiving a piddling alimony from her ex-husband and barely being able to afford Riffraff's tuition, she still scraped together enough to buy him a proper guitar. Before the gift, he'd been studying for all his exams with music as his only companion, burying his muzzle into his books as a worn pair of headphones adorned his ears more often than not. Even when he had nothing to study, he spent his time secluded in his small dorm room, bobbing his head along to one song or another while jotting down the lyrics he especially admired. His mother's gift had only furthered his intense passion for music, especially within that soulful genre of blues and jazz – easily more than two-thirds of his collection fell into those categories. Any moment he had free from study, he spent plucking at his guitar and attempting to imitate the style and skill of his favorite guitarists.

Eventually he had found himself devoting more time and attention to his six-stringed hobby than he even gave to his studies. He barely graduated with his law degree as a result, and was only hired by a law firm in the neighboring town because of his known relation to the semi-successful district attorney Sharp Justice. His halfhearted devotion to the job made it difficult for him to even attempt making excuses for his poor performance and it took only three months for the disgusted senior partners to roundly dismiss him. Bromecilia spent whatever money she could to support her son as he slouched from one law firm to the next, often cutting her own monthly budgets almost by half to help keep the moody pegasus afloat. Yet he could hardly be distracted from his near-obsessive search to become a musician, having long since dismissed the slightly unbalanced scales on his flank as merely an attempt by the Fates to divine his path for him.

He'd continued to live in this dismissive fashion until he'd carelessly torn open a letter addressed to him from his mother. Five minutes later, he'd burst out of the cramped office he shared with two interns, the letter fluttering slowly to the concrete floor behind him as the other two ponies had looked up in surprise, never having seen even the slightest show of urgency from the large pegasus.

Bromecilia had contracted a fatal parasite most commonly associated with a poor diet and less-than-fresh food, and had been rushed to the nearest hospital after collapsing during one of her classes, in the midst of teaching the importance of following one's dreams. Riffraff stayed by her side through the night, too late realizing how much the now-frail and withered pegasus had sacrificed for him, too late realizing with horror that the aged guitar she'd gotten him hadn't been an attempt to pacify his constant wheedling about a desire to learn music, but was instead a message that he always should have followed his passions.

“I...I thought you were just like Dad...wanted...me to be like you two...” he whispered, clutching her sallow foreleg in both of his hooves as his eyes filled with stinging tears. “All those books you made me read instead of...letting me have toys like the other foals...”

She smiled up at him weakly, reaching up with visible effort to stroke his cheek with her other hoof. “I just...just wanted you to have an advantage...that's all. Your...your father wanted you to be a great lawyer like him. I just wanted you to...be educated so you could make your own choices...” Her pale blue eyes closed and Riffraff remembered yelping in denial and immediately dropping across her thin body to hug her desperately to his chest.

But she had only passed into a deep sleep, her consciousness unable to maintain itself against all the stress and strain her body had been experiencing. The doctor had come in and reassured the young stallion that she needed rest and would be undergoing surgery the next day to remove the parasite. A routine procedure by all means, he'd said.

Riffraff had nodded and made himself as comfortable as he could in the sterile waiting room, eventually falling asleep at some point past midnight with his headphones snug over his ears, the lull of rhythmic guitars allowing him a deep and undisturbed sleep as dreams of his mother's words manifested themselves in every way possible.

The stallion sighed as he slowly pulled his head out from beneath his forelegs, glancing down at his hooves for a moment. Wonder what will happen. If I can even go through with this...I have to go through with it. I have to do something to impress him. He has the most beautiful voice...we would make the world's greatest duo... He sighed wistfully as thoughts of the light-blue pegasus rolled through his mind, his curled and spiked mane gleaming under the spotlights as endless pools of silver seemed to pierce into his very soul, yanking him closer to the stage with each heavenly verse that poured into his ears. He shivered a bit and shook himself out of the reverie, staring down again at the open book. “I gotta do it...for Graceful Melody, for Mom...and for myself...can't go nowhere without taking a risk...”

Bromecilia had passed away during that same fateful night, as Riffraff had enjoyed dreams of success and fame just outside her room. Apparently no one had been willing to disturb him with the news and he had the misfortune of awakening when no attendants or nurses were at hoof, finding her bed and room empty and asking the receptionist curiously where Bromecilia Wickers was having her surgery. The earth pony had looked at him oddly before consulting her stack of papers and then answering matter-of-factually that she had died in the night, hadn't he been informed?

He didn't remember much until he'd been forcefully pacified with an injection of some sort, regaining his senses in the cold, brightly-lit office of some head doctor or another who'd calmly explained that Bromecilia's infestation had taken an unexpected turn for the worse in the middle of the night and caused her heart to stop working. Riffraff tried to keep his tears back, his cheeks already stained with the distraught sobbing he'd apparently done between his tantrum of denial at the receptionist's desk. The pegasus had barely paid attention as the unicorn carefully informed him of the medical bills he'd be responsible for, seeing as the hospital had already spent many of the resources needed for her surgery the next morning, not to mention the medication she'd been taking with an agreement to pay at a later date...with interest, naturally. Of course, it had appeared that she'd been halving her dosage to try and extend the length of time between refills of the prescription and the unicorn was very quick to inform the young lawyer that the hospital was in no way responsible for the patient's choices and behaviors outside of their building, no matter how senseless and inane they might se--

Riffraff had later been escorted from the hospital by two hospital security guards, unceremoniously dumped on the front stoop with an envelope detailing the plan options available to him for repaying his mother's debt, as well as a rapid verbal threat of legal action being taken against him for the unbridled assault on a distinguished member of the medical community.. He only remembered stumbling home to his dilapidated apartment with tears in his eyes and despair in his heart – even drowning himself in an endless stream of his favorite music failed to soothe his soul that night.

Eighteen months or so later, the pony had stabilized himself somewhat financially and settled rather unceremoniously as one of the lowest ranking public legal officials for the city of Tailsa. Unable to sell much of Bromecilia's things (her apartment had been almost smaller than his own) for more than a few bits and having completely cut himself off from his father, the pegasus had been forced to sacrifice just about everything but his precious guitar to stay alive as he paid off the rather unscrupulous debt levied upon his dead mother. He had never pursued the hospital in a case to eliminate the unfair amount owed, and in return was never brought to court for assaulting the unicorn in the pristine, soulless office.

And now he found himself once again knee-deep in strange, untouched literature, delving into matters that would hardly help him win any court case. He was known for taking his arguments and suppositions to tangents both distant and extreme, earning a poor reputation in nearly every courtroom through the district. But this time, his research was not focused around the finer, historical nuances of some civil case against an anguished factory worker, nor did it explore the five alternate potential explanations of a century-old ruling on the subject of public indecency.

The books surrounding him on the table – and the few scattered about the floor – dealt with the long-forgotten subject of the occult. He'd immersed himself in the lore of Helheim, pored through tales of ancient Equestria, and familiarized himself with every kind of demonology for which he could dig up even a single poem. The subject was rarely written about and even more rarely backed by empirical proof or research. The one time he'd asked the librarian for help on finding books related to the study, she'd eyed him as if a third wing was growing from his forehead. After that point, he'd decided to keep his private interest...well, private. He now devoted even more time to it than he did his self-taught guitar lessons. What kept him from doing more, however, was the lesson Bromecilia had inadvertently taught him in her sudden death. Dreams were worth chasing, but the consequences of cutting one's self off from the other responsibilities in life produced only hardship and misery, from which even the most successful of dreams might not recover. Even if his methods were mocked and considered a nuisance – even an insult to the profession, in some ponies' opinions – Riffraff still put enough effort into his job that he was able to maintain his lowly position in the city's DA office. Otherwise I might have found this stuff out weeks ago...

He leaned back in the uncomfortable wooden chair and considered transcribing what lay before him in the dust-riddled tome. But then he imagined somepony finding these cryptic notes referencing demons and Helheim traditions, and a distinct knot of discomfort formed in his stomach. Riffraff was having enough trouble keeping his head above water in relation to his colleagues; rumors of his involvement in the occult would not settle well with them. The stallion sighed but turned his beryl eyes downward again to read the barely-visible lines one more time, doing his best to memorize whatever he felt might be important.

The penultimate goal of his research was to obtain the skill he felt necessary to even approach the slender pegasus that often pranced through his every last thought. He could still remember the first time his eyes fell upon Graceful Melody, as recent as any memory could be. One of the interns at the DA's office had invited him to a bar one night, demonstrating to Riffraff that he either ignored all the less-than-pleasant words whispered about the odd lawyer, or that he perhaps had merely not yet been told about his habits and methods. Regardless, the stallion had been grateful for the offer and quickly accepted, glad for the potential of sharing some time with anypony outside of work. His social life was less than healthy; he opted to spend his time either at the city library or in his single-room apartment, strumming and picking at his guitar until his hooves were raw and swollen.

He'd heard of The Corral before and had even visited it on occasion to observe some of the local talent on open mic nights. Riff wasn't much of a drinker – he fought his bouts of depression and loneliness with a pair of headphones and a dinged-up acoustic guitar. And he'd rarely been more than mildly impressed by any of the creatures that took the stage at the small bar. But as the cheerful young intern had led him through the doors, babbling away about his intentions to rise to the top of the city's legal ladder, Riffraff's ears were immediately filled with the delightful voice streaming through the stage speakers, his concentration lost to the world. He compared it to a tomb raider coming upon the thought-lost burial site of an ancient ruler, or perhaps an author discovering the perfectly intriguing tale about which to pen an epic story. The aural treasure enticed him to drift away from the still-chatting intern without a conscious realization that he was all but floating toward the nearest empty table to stare with rapture at the slim pegasus on the stage.

Graceful Melody had not been wearing one of his alluring outfits that night, fitted only with a gleaming silver choker as he sang softly over the tinkling of an absent-sounding piano behind him. Riffraff dropped his chin into his hooves and had eyes only for the tender voice and feminine frame of the singer, barely noticing when the earth pony who had invited him along grumpily sat down next to him.

“--didn't even know where you went, I was talking to you, dude.”

Riffraff blinked and glanced stupidly at the scowling stallion across the table. “Huh?”

“What's up with you, Riffraff? I mean, the guys said you were weird, but...you got some kinda attention disorder or something? I was trying to tell you about the case I've been looking into.” He glared childishly at the larger pony and sipped at his drink, something fruity that barely smelled of alcohol. “You like...disappeared and then I find you over here drooling and staring up at that queer. You got a thing for that or something?”

The pegasus scowled. “What, are you afraid I'll try and take you out back for a good time? Sorry, just...his singing...” He couldn't help but turn his head back to the stage, watching raptly as Graceful broke into a more upbeat tune, making the pianist grimace as his hooves attempted to keep up across the keys as accompaniment that felt painfully unnecessary with the rich tone of the singer's voice. “It's incredible, isn't it?”

The intern frowned and rolled his eyes as he slurped noisily at his drink. “I guess it isn't half-bad, but...who listens to this jazz crap, anyway? The latest record from Vinyl Scratch, now that is some good stuff.”

Riffraff had a volatile desire to punch the earth pony until his immature features looked like rotten apples mashed against a brick wall but he instead choose to shrug and watch the stage intently. “Each to their own, I guess.” He couldn't help the soft sigh of delight as he let himself be swept up in the song and the teasing, liquid-like movements of the confident pegasus behind the microphone.

At some point, the intern had left in disgust to find some of his more-normal colleagues but Riffraff barely paid it any heed. By now he was used to even those technically beneath his level mocking him or treating him like an outcast and he couldn't care less about the impact on how others perceived him, as long as it couldn't be used to threaten his job.

Riffraff had stayed in the bar for two more hours, feeling blessed by the gods themselves for the extended set that the singer performed, at some point joined by a few other musicians for a rousing finale, closing with a beautiful rendition of a favorite of Riff's, “September in the Rain”. He'd been hoping for a chance to meet the enchanting pegasus, but only saw him prancing off backstage with the burly minotaur acting as security for the stage, a wide grin on the slender male's face. The red stallion had sat hopefully at the same table until the bartender announced last call, his ears falling back a bit when he realized the lithe pegasus would not be taking the stage again that night..

He quickly raced to the bar, causing the unicorn behind it to raise his eyebrows inquisitively. “Fine, but make it fast, buddy.”

“Huh? No no...the singer tonight...what's his name? Is he coming back?” Riffraff asked breathlessly.

“Oh, Graceful Melody? Heh, you got a thing for his type too, huh? Yeah, it doesn't take too much to get in the sack with him. Just hang around the stage next time...you seem close enough to his favorite kinda stallion, he'll probably give you a thrill or two as long as Marco isn't working again.” The unicorn shuddered. “Don't even want to know what that looks like. But then again, not a lot of people are willing to mess with a gay minotaur that could probably punch their face into next week.”

Riffraff blinked but only cared about one thing that the unicorn had said: “So...so he comes here regularly? When does he perform again?”

“You are some kinda desperate. Uh...think I have him booked again for three nights out...he kinda travels around all of Tailsa, and goes further out when business is slow around here.”

Hope filled Riffraff's thoughts and he gave a warm smile. “Okay, thank you. I'll be back.” And with that he had left the bar, feeling as though he'd finally been given a reason to really start putting all possible effort into practicing his guitar playing. He felt...no, he knew that this intoxicating singer had a soul for music – his performance alone demonstrated that he had a passion for the art, and didn't do it merely for the paycheck.

Several weeks later, Riffraff sat on the edge of his bed with his guitar in his hooves, sweat covering his crimson hide. He'd been playing nonstop for the last four hours, struggling to teach himself a more advanced style of strumming that would let his less-than-dexterous hooves produce a smoother sound. He knew already from his years of musical passion that most of the best guitarists were either young dragons with their flexible claws, or creatures like the minotaur that stood naturally on two legs and possessed hands on their forelimbs instead of hooves. He hadn't been overly concerned with this, though – as he obsessively followed Graceful Melody to almost every show he played, he rarely saw an accompanying band with a guitarist that wasn't a pony. Exotic species, after all, only existed sporadically through the nation of Equestria.

All the same, he hardly held a candle to even the dullest of the hoofed guitarists...and now, as he leaned over his guitar, panting softly and holding in the tears of pain, he wondered if he could ever become good enough to even earn a moment of the singer's attention, to even be worthy of ten minutes in the small male's gleaming silver eyes. Riffraff still hadn't even spoken to the pegasus, finding himself fearful each time he got close and denying himself even the potential of appealing to Graceful's visibly fiery sexual drive.

The stallion stared at his hooves, one of them bleeding slightly from a blister he'd reopened for the third time that week. “Gods, I'm never gonna be good enough...Horses of Heaven, it hurts...” He swallowed thickly and felt a few tears trickle down and splash onto the neck of his guitar. The instrument itself seemed near a painful retirement due to the number of times it had been dropped, kicked or accidentally rolled upon after one of many nights when Riffraff fell asleep working on some musical scale or simple blues song. I'd do anything to play better...I don't want to just be a one-night stand...I want him to respect me as a fellow musician, to play with him, show him that we'd be a great team...finally get out of this hole of a job and do something I love. I'd do anything...

“--ominus, dizeterus kann' bielfor Amdusiasova...bielfor Amdusiasova!” Riffraff's voice shook as he repeated the last words with as much conviction as he could muster, swaying and shivering on the spot as he clutched a bleeding foreleg to his chest. He sat nervously on his haunches as the moonlight illuminated the abandoned crossroads, the pegasus positioned in the middle with a wide, crudely-drawn runic circle just in front of him. At each corner of the intersecting paths, he'd buried a small iron box holding a lock of his almost-pink mane. The large circle had been drawn with an herbal dye he'd spent almost a month concocting, having mixed in nearly a cupful of his own blood just before using a cheap paintbrush to create the circle. Several strange symbols adorned the inside, and a ring of ancient runes were painted along the inside of the circumference. They harked from some long-lost language, not of Equestria but supposedly originating from within one of the distant nations on the other side of the word.

He'd picked a night just before the full moon with almost minimal cloud cover; one of the books he'd referenced had warned against the usage of any artificial light to aid in the creation of the runic circle. Riffraff had a keen sense when researching for what felt truthful, and what felt like a load of equine bodily waste, though this had been one point he had never quite discerned to be reliable or not. Nevertheless, he hadn't wanted to take any further risks. Seeing as summoning a demon isn't risky already or anything...

The stallion now wondered if he had made some other mistake, swallowing hard and looking around him with a mix of anxiety and fear. The night was still, even the droning of insects around him seeming muted in his ears. The trees rustled a bit, though he felt no breeze; as a matter of fact, he wasn't sure he felt much at all.

At his side was his precious guitar, cracked through the neck yet lovingly repaired with several strips of tape some few weeks ago. As another tome had suggested, he'd also purchased a gleaming silver harmonica to use as a portable object into which he could bind a part of his soul as a precaution...though if the literature had been correct, he himself could not perform the ritual. He would somehow need to convince the demon with whom he was attempting to communicate...if that demon was even going to show up.

His hopes began to falter as he trembled on the spot and began to feel weak from the blood loss. In his haste, he hadn't packed any bandages to apply after slicing himself open with the dagger lying a few feet away. He looked desperately down each of the four roads, his eyes lingering for a moment on the one leading to the west. Graceful Melody had booked a room at a small motel a mile or so away, Riffraff having hesitantly followed him after his show that night. He'd picked this location specifically for that very reason – he planned on drawing from the last reserves of his courage if this procedure went even remotely as planned, and visiting the singer in his room afterward. But as each dragging second passed without even a supernatural gust of wind, Riffraff began to fear the worst: he'd either failed to complete some part of the ritual, or perhaps that the entire attempt at summoning a demon was nothing more than the ramblings of several delusional and insane writers of centuries past...

His eyes fluttered and he struggled to remain conscious, a single tear rolling down along his muzzle as he whispered desperately: “Please...please, of all the things I have asked for in this goddamn life...just let me...have the chance...” The clear droplet clung to his chin for a moment before falling slowly toward the dusty crossroads beneath him...falling so slowly that it seemed to come to a complete halt. Riffraff blinked and lifted his head in surprise as the natural world around him froze in staggered pieces, the trees the first to come to strange, unnatural positions, no longer moving in the gentle breeze. The few sounds of insects and nocturnal birds drew to a complete silence as even the whisper of the wind became an absurd hush. The pegasus glanced up and realized with shock that even the twinkling of the stars had ceased, the moon itself seeming dull as if it no longer reflected the light of the sun.

“You have played a dangerous tune, mortal...”

Riffraff started, gasping as he stumbled backward and stared at the center of the runic circle. The disembodied voice was tinged with both amusement and derision and the stallion quickly lost whatever courage he'd managed to build up. His body trembled violently before pale green eyes widened as thick black smoke began to erupt from the crossroads, quickly swirling around an indistinguishable figure that slowly materialized at the core of the bloodstained circle. “I'm going to enjoy ripping your flesh from your bones and savoring your pitiful soul over the next decade...”

The pegasus swallowed hard again but couldn't bring himself to turn away as a reptilian creature became visible through the dark haze, yellow slits gleaming from a skull adorned with four massive curling horns that stretched back from just above its ridged forehead. They glared balefully down at the mortal pony past a row of spikes along the top of its muzzle, its lower jaws lined on either side by smaller, similarly curved spikes of bone. Its torso was covered in a strange checkered pattern of silver and gold scales while its muscular arms were dark blue in color – the same hue that layered the rest of its scaled form. Its chest and stomach were masculine, matching the muscular legs that were unguligrade, ending not in hooves but sharp claws. Behind it, Riffraff could make out a long, flexible tail, the powerful appendage splitting into two nearly a third from the end. Near the base, long, slender spines of the same bone-like material as its horns jutted out randomly while matching, deadly spikes stood out from either tip. “You will regret summoning me to your disgusting plane, mortal!” it snarled, suddenly leaping forward toward the pegasus with sharp teeth and fangs bared as Riffraff froze in terror, a pitiful yelp escaping his muzzle.

But the reptilian creature gave its own hiss of pain as it halted in mid-pounce, stumbling backward stupidly after colliding with an invisible force. The protective runes along the edge of the circle flashed unnaturally and Riffraff immediately felt a burst of relief. At least I got the protective ward down right... He slowly wiped the sweat from his brow with a trembling foreleg before wincing and silently grasping his bloodstained wound again. “Uh...”

Before he could speak, the demon bared its teeth and glanced down at the ground. “Well, well, well...I'm dealing with something more clever than a simple, stupid maggot, aren't I?” It slowly stood straight again, amber eyes focusing once more on the shaking pony with a mixture of malice and disgust. “You don't look like any kind of conjurer I've seen before, mortal. You don't even possess the anatomical advantage of a unicorn. Who drew this circle? I demand you answer me, or so help me, I will rend you into four pieces and toss you too the coldest pits of Helheim.”

Riffraff blinked stupidly. “Uh. I...read it from a book?”

The demon blinked as well, unable to mask its shocked reaction. “A...book? A book! You dare trifle with the great Amdusias, lying to him as if you could summon me with the aide of some mortal LITERATURE?”

The pegasus winced, avoiding the piercing glare of the demon as he lamely asked the only question he could formulate at the moment: “Are...are you going to talk in third-person the whole time?”

Whatever ranting Amdusias had intended to continue was lost to the blank, horrified stare he gave. Riffraff peered up nervously, then winced again as the demon snarled. “You have no right to question me, worm. Consider yourself lucky for not making the typical mortal mistake in this pitiful excuse for a trapping sphere.” The reptilian male crossed his arms and pursed his lips for a moment. The pegasus could only stare at his feet awkwardly, stealing a glance up and into his cold expression for only a few seconds. Finally, Amdusias groaned and threw his arms up. “What do you request?” he snapped, gesturing violently with one hand before pausing and narrowing his eyes curiously, bending down to inspect the wound Riff clutched. “Ah, I see. Your circle is so potent because you've used fresh blood.” The demon sneered. “Your own blood, I might add – so weak, you couldn't even drag some other useless pony out here as an ingredient.” He snorted derisively before tilting his head back slightly. “So get on with it, what are you here to trade your soul for? And why have you chosen me?” He looked genuinely curious and perhaps even confused for a moment, but as Riffraff stared up at him, the demon quickly bared his teeth again. “Many have summoned me to attain great fame, fortune and power, don't you dare question my status!”

“I...was not questioning your status,” Riffraff began slowly, grimacing and looking down at the dried blood covering nearly his entire foreleg. “Dammit...” He took a deep breath as the tall demon immediately drew closer to the edge of the circle, eyes glowing. “I want to ask you for...a musical ability, a gift to...play music...” He nodded and closed his eyes, taking several breaths that felt shallower with each ragged draw of air into his lungs. “Guitar...”

The demon smiled coldly and licked his lips thoughtfully. “My my, you are interesting for a blood-filled snack of a pony.” He paused and slowly rapped his knuckles against the invisible barrier, creating no sounds other than those Riffraff imagined might be produced from knocking upon a clear surface strong enough to imprison angry, muscular demons. “It's been an epoch or two since anyone has even successfully summoned me, let alone doing so with the request of musical talent. You have done your research...” His pale eyes narrowed again as the pegasus nodded absently, starting to sway slowly on the spot. “You may be worth a few minutes of my time, weakling...but your soul does not yet belong to me and I'll be rather enraged if you die now, leaving me trapped here with no new soul in my legions.” He smiled broadly, eyes narrowing to slits as he motioned with a hand to the edge of the circle. “Come now, release me, let me heal your nasty little cut and then we can get down to business.”

Riffraff gave a weak laugh, his vision swimming as he shook his head numbly. “Why? Just...kill me if...I do that. Here's...what I want...you...can draw it up and...I'll...sign...” He closed his eyes, rasping for breath and finding it nearly impossible to swallow, his maw dry and his skull pounding achingly as his injured leg began to lose sensation.

“Damnation, just let me out!” Amdusias snarled, slamming a fist soundlessly against the air again. But the pegasus continued to shake his head in numb denial before the demon blinked as the pony moaned and slowly teetered over. “Oh, you cursed mortal beast, fine! You've done your research, here.” He grimace as he reached over a shoulder, feeling out one of the slender spikes jutting from his back, making a face before grunting and savagely snapping it near the base. The demon's eyes bulged wide despite his best attempts at masking the pain, sharp teeth grit firmly as he hissed through them. “One day's passage, now TAKE IT!” He threw the spine firmly toward the ground and it buried several inches into the dirt, a tail's breadth from the edge of the first layer of runes. Thick black liquid dribbled from the tip, rolling slowly down the ivory spike to patter onto the roads below while Amdusias grimaced and backpedaled until his split tail bumped against the barrier at the opposite end of the protection circle.

Riffraff only stared stupidly for a moment, lying prone on his side as his breaths became shallower still. Memories from the numerous tomes he'd pored through began to swirl in his mind and he closed his eyes in concentration. A part of the demon...part of his body, his physical and spiritual essence as well...what is it for...oh right. The pegasus winced as he shoved himself forward across the surface of the crossroads, glancing across the rune at the sour-looking demon before nodding once to himself and shoving a hoof past the barrier of the protection circle to grab the spine. The reptile's eyes flashed as they stared fiercely at the pony, but Riffraff had already grasped the spike firmly, wheezing weakly as a warm red glow covered his body for a moment, then disappeared.

“Now the circle! For the love of Hel, free me so I may save your worthless hide!”

The pegasus mumbled something along the lines of a pitiful insult but used the severed spike itself to scratch a firm line through the entire outer ring of the circle. He immediately winced backward on the ground as a pulse of energy radiated outward violently, followed shortly by a sound similar to that of glass being shattered. Amdusias had already begun to stroll toward the pony and Riffraff swallowed thickly as he clutched the spike fiercely to his chest and left his injured foreleg stretched out, a bit of blood still pumping weakly from the deep wound. “You...don't...can't hurt me...but this...is not my pact...healing me...isn't...”

“Yes, yes, I happen to understand how demonic abilities function,” Amdusias snapped, growling and dropping down to a kneel as he glanced over the mortal pony's body for a moment, then shook his head. “Foolish meatsack...you could have prepared this over several days, only an idiot draws upon his own life force, and all at once, moments before the ritual, no less.” The reptile grumbled bad-naturedly before snapping his fingers. A moment later, a silver saxophone appeared in his hand and he quickly fingered the pads before lifting it to his lips and playing a soft, lilting tune.

Riffraff closed his eyes, almost immediately sensing a strange warmth that pulsed around his wound. He wasn't sure if the demon did not know about the difference made by the potency of the blood for a summoning; or if perhaps Amdusias knew all too well that fresher blood originating from the summoner himself made the bond more solid, preventing the summoned creature from pressing too much influence or persuasion against the bearer of the blood, and the demon was merely masking his displeasure at having a great deal of his advantage removed. He's a musician...probably not a terrible actor, either.

“Do not lump me into that despicable arena of so-called 'artistry',” the demon muttered, spitting to the side in disgust. “Actors. A bunch of over-adulated, over-adored, overpaid charlatans who wouldn't know a day's hard work if it came up and mounted them like a...well...” Amdusias looked down at the pony contemptibly. “Like a mare in heat, since you would understand such mortal terminology better, I'm sure.” He snorted, then continued to play the oddly comforting song from the gleaming instrument again – it hardly matched his icy temperament, yet the pegasus felt his pain dampening and when he glanced down at the cut, he realized with surprise that it had already begun to stitch itself together in time to the flowing melody of the demon's saxophone. Oh wait. What he just said...I didn't say it out loud...so...

Amdusias rolled his eyes and let the song come to a slow, drawn-out finish before pulling the reed from his muzzle and replying sourly: “Yes, I am capable of reading your mind. It's easier when you're so weak, though...even now, your thoughts are mostly distorted.” He wrinkled his muzzle, seeming furious more with himself than anything else. “Did you utter some other poorly-worded spell or prepare an elixir to protect your useless brain from my own superior mind?”

The pony blinked and resisted the urge to think “Well duh, don't you know about how blood works for rituals, O Great One?” and instead closed his mind out the best he could, instead very obviously focusing his thoughts on something else. I must just be really lucky...I must just really really be lucky...

If the demon wasn't an extremely good actor, then he seemed to miss the pegasus's true thoughts. “Yes...that's it, you're just lucky,” he sneered, slowly lowering the saxophone as the deep gash in the pony's leg became no more than a pale scar surrounded by a great deal of dried brownish-red blood. “Very well then, tiny colt...you can stop your sniveling. Rise, so we may pen this contract and sign it, and swiftly.” He sniffed at the air and made a face. “I cannot stand the smell of your world.”

The pegasus nodded slowly, blushing as if he somehow felt the odor of an entire planet was his fault. “Uh...uh okay, yeah...so...how does this work, uh...Lord?”

The demon smiled wanly. “Adorable. I could get used to that. But such tawdry titles also infuriate me, so spare us both the trouble and address me as Amdusias. My name carries more than enough loft and importance. And you should know how it works, you're the one who taught your barely evolved brain to interpret letters upon a page...a rather impressive task for your breed.” He grumbled and then glanced around, his lips curled in another indignant sneer before he sighed and simply dropped into a seated position across from the pony.

Riffraff blinked and leaned back a bit, rubbing a hoof at his own muzzle nervously as the two watched each other wordlessly, the silence spinning awkwardly out for a minute or two. Amdusias no longer behaved as though he was in any hurry to leave the mortal plane, now appearing rather complacent with watching the pony struggle to formulate a plan or even some sort of legitimate question.

Finally, the pegasus eyed the silver saxophone floating against the lizard's chest as if hanging from his neck by an invisible strap. “Well...it's...what I said earlier. I want to...play better.” He shifted his eyes to his own battered guitar, which the demon now also surveyed with something like disgust and disbelief.

“Are you sure you would not rather ask for a new instrument? I've seen mortal fecal waste that looks more appealing.”

The pony looked embarrassed, mumbling under his breath. “I'm sure I don't just want to ask for a new guitar. And thanks for basically calling it a piece of crap, just in fancier words. I'm...I don't want fame, I don't want to be popular. I just want to be able to play...especially blues, jazz, stuff like that...”

Amdusias seemed to involuntarily perk up at this, attempting to hide his curiosity as he tilted his head and dropped his muzzle into a hand. “For a mortal, you don't have bad taste. I've sampled some of the music produced by your kind...some is absolutely criminal, but...there are select pieces upon which I don't wish to vomit after hearing.” He frowned and leaned back on his hands, head rolled back in thought. “I can already see you will be difficult to trick. The only reason I say that aloud, mortal, is because I wish for you to understand that the moment the precious trinket of my body, to which you so desperate cling, dissipates...I could easily tear you into thirds with my mind alone. Do you understand?” Riffraff nodded quickly and lowered his ears as he looked up at the demon nervously, wondering when he would bring up his other request. “You desire skill. Ability. I could enchant your...instrument, over there. As long as you used it and only it, it would play what your mind desired.”

“I...no, I don't want...an enchanted guitar,” Riff mumbled, rubbing at his now-healed leg slowly with the other hoof. “I want to be able to play it myself.”

This seemed to cheer the demon up, his grin widening as he leaned forward once more. “Is that so? Well, you see...your greatest limitation...is right here.” With that, he reached down and easily grabbed one of the pony's hooves in his own dexterous hand, fingers slowly squeezing sharp claws into the pegasus's appendage. “You ponies have certainly impressed more than a few of us in Helheim with your ability to somehow...overcome the fact that you have only these...blunt objects as hands. But a guitar is like my own saxophone. Besides the incredible mental talent required, you also must have certain...physical abilities as well. Regardless of what skill I give you...it will be meaningless if you truly wish to make an instrument such as that...truly sing.” The reptilian male narrowed his eyes and whispered teasingly, “And the way you look so desperate...you wish to make it sing, correct?”

“Y-yes,” Riffraff stammered nervously, nodding slowly and swallowing thickly. “But...what...do you mean that...physical abilities?”

The demon's teeth flashed brightly. “I can alter you. It is a simple matter for me, of course. And...since you are growing on me like an adorable little lichen, I shall even do you a favor. I could even make it so that my gift to you will remain hidden until you sit down with your pitiful mortal soiree and begin to play.”

The pegasus looked confused and rubbed a hoof silently through his almost-pink mane. “I still...don't understand what you want to do.”

Amdusias rolled his eyes with a mutter, grabbing the pony's hoof again and shaking it firmly. “I mean THIS.” And with that, Riffraff yelped as an excruciatingly sharp pain twisted through his limb before his skin began to crawl from the foreign sensation, almost as if a thousand tiny worms were wriggling on the end of his leg. He stared down and then widened his eyes in disbelief as he saw that his hoof had somehow grown multiple small appendages, although they remained covered in his dark red hide, presumably so it was not blisteringly obvious to anyone looking on that his hoof had suddenly transformed. “Do you see now, mortal?” The demon laughed aloud and released his wrist, allowing Riffraff to stare with a mix of horror and amazement, poking at his new “fingers” with his other, still-regular hoof. “Oh, your crude emotions of confusion are truly a delight to absorb...this is always my favorite part.” He grinned slightly again and snapped his fingers, his saxophone disappearing with a flash and small puff of off-blue smoke, replaced by a long scroll of parchment. “Now then, I assume you're pleased with this. Now we'll just negotiate your remaining lifespan and I'll be on my way.”

Riffraff slowly flexed his fingers, still amazed with the transformation before staring with just as much surprise when they suddenly began to fuse together into his original hoof once more. He hissed and shook his leg wildly, closing his eyes tight as the searing agony overtook his entire limb just as it did before, although it ended much more quickly this time. He looked at his reformed hoof and shook his head a bit before glancing up and blushing again. “I...sorry. Yeah, I...this should work. But...what...about talent?”

“I've already given you that, little worm,” the demon said with a bored tone, flicking his wrist to create a quill between his fingers. “Those nasty little fingers were just an added bonus. Now then. I think ten years should be more than enough to enjoy the fruits of my labor, do you not?” He licked the tip of the sharpened feather, starting to quickly scrawl the terms of their contract.

“Not...no,” Riffraff murmured, causing the demon to pause in his scribbling with a frown. “No, the contract is...not ready yet. I don't want a...definite limit of time. I want to make payments on my debt...something like...you know, drinking, or...letting blood or--”

“I am very much aware of long-term contract payments and how they work!” Amdusias interrupted, his features suddenly contorting into a furious snarl. “How dare you...after all I am offering you, you really expect me to give you this privilege? I think not!”

“I think so,” the pegasus replied softly, then lunged forward with a motion faster than he realized he was capable. He stabbed the pointed spine into the demon's thigh before the reptile could react, shoving it deep into the muscle and eliciting a sharp cry of pain from Amdusias. He immediately tried to shove the pony back, but Riff kept his hoof firmly wrapped around the small sliver of bone as the same thick ebony blood spurted from the point of impact. Amdusias released a string of curses but could not even shove at the mortal stallion without incurring another sharp bolt of pain through his own body. “I...I know that...I can't control you, but...you...have to at least cooperate,” Riffraff wheezed, adrenaline pumping in his veins as he met the demon's infuriated glare with his own determined stare.

Using the part of the creature against him, after having possessed it as temporary protection, Riffraff now held a measure of persuasion and potential torture...and as long as he kept hold of the spine, he himself would remain safe against Amdusias's wrath. The lizard snarled and squirmed in obvious agony, his hands trembling as he made it direly clear that he would like nothing less than to throttle the pegasus until his eyes popped from his skull, but he could do nothing more than growl and grit his sharp teeth as the feather and parchment quivered in his fingers. “Now...” Riffraff took a deep breath and settled closer to the large reptile, keeping a secure hold on the spine. “I know that I can't pick my contractual payment...so...what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to let go so I can rip your entrails out through your pitiful male--” the demon's threat devolved into a pained howl as Riffraff twisted the ivory spike clockwise through his thigh musculature, drawing more black fluid as Amdusias groaned and clenched his teeth before continuing with visible restraint: “Fine. Fine. If we're playing dirty, then so be it.” The powerful reptile rolled his head slowly on his shoulders before hissing through clamped jaws, “Your payment will be one of the most foul habits of this disgusting mortal plane...you will pay off your debt through smoking. Cigarettes, nothing fancy or cultured...and I will make the urge so strong that your lungs will be ash within the year...” Riffraff made a face, closing his eyes and shuddering at the thought of having to take up such a dangerous habit...his own father had been a regular smoker, and the stale stench of their old living room now filled his nostrils with a strong olfactory memory. The demon hissed in pain as the pony twitched involuntarily, twisting the spine a bit more and earning a surly glare. He looked almost apologetic but Amdusias simply laid the parchment moodily across the pony's features and began to scratch out the new contract. “Very well, let's...get this done with.”

Riffraff hesitated before adding softly from beneath the parchment: “I also want my soul bound to an object on this plane...to stop you from backing out on our agreement.”

“Oh, you MUST be joking!” the demon snarled, yanking the ancient paper backward and staring in disgust at the pegasus, unable to restrain himself from backhanding the pony firmly. Riffraff yelped in surprise but the lashback against Amdusias was apparently tenfold the agony as the scaled male howled with pain again, tears rolling down his cheeks in reaction to the intense torment. The pony blushed, actually feeling semi-uncomfortable with the torture he was causing the creature...but at the same time recognizing the fact he would have been long dead if not for these strange demonic rules.

Amdusias breathed heavily and brushed roughly at his tears in embarrassment before looking down at the stallion with an almost-hurt expression. “This is...an insult! You realize that I am indeed a lord in Helheim, correct? I'm not going to resort to...cheap, dishonorable tactics like...like a mortal maggot like yourself!” But when Riffraff only continued to look up at him with the same fierce doggedness, the frustrated demon muttered and threw his arms up in disgust. “Why not. Would you also like to possess my saxophone? Or maybe your own private domain in Helheim when your time is up and I am at last free to gleefully drag your worthless carcass down?!”

The pony rubbed at his muzzle awkwardly with his free hoof. “No, just...the soul-bind, please. It's...not that I don't trust you. It's that...I don't trust other demons that might come after me?”

Amdusias pursed his lips even as he shoved the parchment roughly down against Riffraff's face again to continue scribbling angrily. “Of course. Other demons, right. Believe me, I will come back up here and personally rip apart any worthless spawn who comes after your soul. You belong to ME, colt...no one is going to take the pleasure of devouring you from me, not even Hel herself.”

Riffraff remained as still as he could, mumbling lamely: “That's almost touching.”

“Seal your maw,” Amdusias shot back contemptibly, wincing as his leg gave another sharp twang of pain. “What do you wish to bind your measly soul to? Please tell me it isn't that horrible looking guitar. Please tell me you were intelligent enough to bring it here.”

The pegasus awkwardly pointed over his shoulder blindly in the general direction of the harmonica he'd purchased earlier that evening. Amdusias favored it with a sulky glare, nodding and grumbling. “How creative. How absolutely quaint. Very well. Any other requests, oh mighty summoner?” he asked dryly as he hurriedly drew the quill across the parchment that had magically lengthened to include the now-much-longer contract. “Perhaps I can enlarge you to better please whatever worthless mare you're hoping to enchant with your new musical abilities?”

The pegasus blushed furiously even as he replied in a mumble: “Notamare.”

Amdusias paused in his rapid scribbling before snorting and making a point to shove against the paper with the quill to scratch lightly across the pony's muzzle. It resulted in a mild twist of pain for himself again, but he felt it was worth it. “I shouldn't be surprised. I find you to be disgusting, mortal, and yet feel as though you will suffice as a decent minion for myself if you survive the century or so of torture I'm already planning for you. I'm going to write an entire symphony just to commemorate the occasion.”

Riffraff remained silent, keeping his head steady so the reptile's penmanship wouldn't be disturbed. He continued to maintain a sense of fear and panic in his mind in an attempt to mask his intentions – it wasn't a difficult task, considering despite the edge he currently had over the demon, he still feared the retribution. The pony swallowed and loosened his fingers on the blood-stained spike just a sliver, allowing Amdusias to finish writing out the contract.

The demon lifted the parchment from the stallion's face, glaring down at him before muttering something in a language unknown to the pegasus. He dropped the paper in front of the mortal and then glanced at the harmonica gleaming a few yards away. “Here, read this and sign it, insect. You must release me to have access to your tinny little instrument.” Riffraff looked up at him pointedly, however, and the demon groaned before holding out a scaled hand. A faint translucent glow formed around the harmonica, matching the opalescent aura around his fingers. The pegasus watched for a moment as the silver instrument floated up from the ground and then drifted through the air into the reptile's grasp. Amdusias immediately began to mutter quietly in his native tongue again, using a sharp claw to carefully engrave a series of small runes along the surface.

The pegasus felt a brief twinge along his spine as a lifting sensation overtook his senses for a moment. But his body remained firmly planted on the dirt road and he shook his head briefly before looking curiously at the aged parchment. He stared stupidly at the black ink, unable to understand the runic language. “Uh, how do...” But as he spoke, the runes transformed before his eyes into his own language. He blinked in surprise and heard the demon mumble something insulting above him, but ignored it and read carefully over the contract. His legal experience came rushing forward into his mind as his eyes scanned the verbiage, checking each clause thoroughly for any loopholes or reinterpretations of his original intentions. He was surprised, however, to find that the demon had written the contract out almost to the letter. It was not the contract he originally planned out – he hadn't known that his physical body would have to undergo a change in order to play the guitar as well as he hoped to. Nevertheless, the contract was airtight and Riffraff nodded once before looking down at the space left for his signature or mark.

Above him, Amdusias tossed the harmonica distastefully to the side and crossed his arms with a scowl. But the pony only continued to look at the contract, his right hoof still wrapped around the spike in the demon's thigh. “Well? Mark the damnable thing, let us be done with this!” he snapped impatiently, twitching from another bolt of pain running up along his scaled leg. But Riffraff only looked up at him stubbornly.

“I have to let go to sign. How do I know you won't--” Before he could finish, the demon groaned and reached down to grab the pegasus's hoof, gritting his teeth and then forcing his limb up violently. The spine ripped free of his leg and splattered thick black blood across them both, several droplets landing across the parchment. He hissed in pain through clenched teeth, snarling loudly but throwing the spike violently to the side as he breathed hard and glared furiously down at the mortal stallion.

“Sign the damn contract!” he roared, thrusting the quill into Riffraff's hoof but otherwise leaving the pony free of the harm he could technically bring. “I've had enough of this delay, you have received a more than fair agreement, now SIGN!”

Riffraff swallowed but nodded quickly as he grabbed the feather and rapidly scrawled his signature at the bottom of the parchment. The moment he laid down the quill, Amdusias sprung to his clawed feet with a howl of agony, immediately grimacing and clutching at the deep wound on his thigh but still looking pleased with himself through the mask of agony. He held out a hand and the contract rolled itself up before leaping into his outstretched palm. “The deal is done, the contract has been s...” He blinked even as the parchment exploded into a small puff of smoke and blue flames. “Sealed. Uh...” The demon twitched and then frowned as he looked down at the pony for a moment, Riffraff peering back apprehensively. “Yes, it has been completed and...what is this sensation...something's wrong...” The pegasus took a careful step back, snatching up the harmonica and blushing despite himself as the demon fixed him with a cold glare. “What did you do, mortal?”

“Uh...” Riffraff stepped back slowly again, silently clutching the small instrument and laying his ears back as Amdusias frowned again and then suddenly widened his eyes.

“Oh, you...you disgusting maggot!” the demon spat furiously, clenching a hand into a fist and stepping threateningly toward the stallion. “You...you think this can bind me as well? I'm above these contracts...I AM these contracts!” With that, he snarled and stepped forward again before suddenly breathing out a heavy gout of fire from his scaled maw. Riffraff cried out in surprise, cowering immediately and attempting to cover his face with his forelegs as the intense heat washed over his prone form. The flames were bright red, almost blue with the heat...and yet even as they swirled around the pony, none licked at his hide or even singed his long tail or furled wings. He blinked and peered through his crossed forelimbs, watching the last of the reptile's powerful fire-breathing slow and then finally come to a halt.

Riffraff looked around dumbly – the dirt road around his cowering frame was blackened from the high temperature flames but his crimson coat remained unharmed and he himself could feel nothing beyond the withering panic from nearly having been roasted alive. As the smoke began to rise from the ground, Amdusias stared down with the same shocked expression, a few trails of smoke twisting up from his own muzzle. “What...how...”

He grimaced and slowly rubbed at one of the thick horns curling back from the top of his skull. “You used fresh blood...and forced me to mark the contract with my blood...oh, you are a clever, clever little pony, aren't you...” He snarled and clenched his fists again before slowly standing up straight again. The two regarded each other, caution and fear on Riffraff's muzzle while the reptile's unsteady expression of fury betrayed his own hints of nervousness. “Very well. It would appear I have more than one reason now not to kill you simply when I please.” The lizard looked sour as he silently gripped his saxophone in both hands again. “Do not expect yours to be an easy life. You may think you have fooled me, but I will not be gentle. I will keep an extremely close watch upon you. I will strive to make your life a living hell, and I'm going to do everything in my power to keep your lungs so full of smoke that you'll be dead inside of a decade.”

Riffraff refused response and fumbled at the slender chain he purchased with the harmonica, attaching the small instrument to the thin metal links before slipping it around his neck. It glowed momentarily and he felt that same brief sense of vertigo as the now-soul-bound object swung just below his throat. But as he sensed the demon's eyes fixated on him, he slowly looked up and then shrunk back slightly. “Well...I mean...you can try,” he said softly. A tremor still vibrated in his voice but he felt his resolve strengthening and he stood up hesitantly before meeting the reptile's unblinking glare. “But...we have a deal, now. We're...we're...”

“Stuck together?” Amdusias supplied dryly. “Just as you would probably like it, cretin. But it would seem that having a two-bit mortal pony outwit me and force my hand to pen a contract that does not in any way reflect the standards of any contract made with a creature of Helheim, a contract that – in fact – would bring me excruciating embarrassment and mockery for eons to come, does NOT render my loins quivering with desire.”

The pegasus had no idea how to respond to this as he blushed again. “Uh...I'm...sorry? I promise I won't tell anyone.” He touched a hoof to the harmonica before smiling sheepishly and silently sitting back on his haunches. “I guess...this is goodbye, then?”

“Do not find yourself comfortable with the idea of not having me around. But yes, I was fairly certain that I had made it rather excruciatingly clear that our business was concluded.” The demon grumbled and shifted in place, gripping the saxophone tighter.

The two stared at each other for a moment longer before Riffraff asked slowly, “Um...then...why aren't you leaving?”

Amdusias blinked as if he wasn't entirely sure how to answer, his stance shifting slightly again before he snapped: “I am leaving now! Go and...impress your maiden, or whatever you'd call him.” The demon grumbled and added dryly, “Enjoy the moment while you can. We shall see each other again very soon.” With that, the reptile lifted the mouthpiece of his gleaming instrument to his lips, then blew a rapid series of notes. In an instant, his scaled body dissolved into black smoke before the thick vapor exploded out in every direction to dissipate without a trace.

The pegasus stared stupidly at where the demon had stood, tilting his head slightly. “Well that seemed dramatic,” he mumbled before wincing and hissing softly as a bolt of pain raced down his spine. His legs twitched and he grimaced, clutching at his forehead with one hoof as the equivalent of a whopping migraine boiled at the very base of his muzzle, spreading slowly up to pound behind his eyes and temples. Dammit...