Chapter Fourteen: Armand the Shadow

Armand watched from a distance as both the wolfman and Kinningson fell over the edge of the waterfall. He smiled. He pulled off his left glove and flexed a burnt looking hand. The pain seemed to be lessened in his estactic state.

His master was back. He had heard news of a dark figure.There could be no other such description, though his former master was much changed by his descent into the Abyss. He would come for Armand.

But this time Armand was not giving in. He, like his master, was all too familiar with the dark arts. He was no mage but had seen his master summon many a minor devil and cast innumerable curses.

Armand knew about the Darkness. What better way to defeat such darkness than to side with it, since ultimately darkness will only and always consume itself? Light when joined together brightens the individual source and causes a greater light to shine forth. When two shadows converge, perhaps it may grow darker, or perhaps it will retain the shade and the darkness will remain the same. Darkness is simply a by-product of the Light. It must have always been this way. The darkness was there to ensure that those wayward people would seek the Light out constantly for protection;so in the end even the darkness, though it fought against the Light, was subservient to it. This relationship was well understood by the little man. The ends justify the means...perhaps.

Armand lacked only a true conscience as his eyes followed the freefall. A man had died, but this was a small price.

Many would have to die for his freedom.

The revival of his master did threaten Armand's hopes. But even still, his arrival had showed Armand one thing.

Hell was no foolproof prison. He would not chance, lest he must.

He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. With one last look at the river below he turned and left.

His master was in Westerhaven. He had not the power yet to vanquish the demon he had helped release. He wished also to free his master from the demon's snare. He knew deep inside however, that his master most likely willingly gave in to the darkness.

But not his darkness.

No...not darkness.

A shadow.

Darkness is the absence of light. A shadow simply is an extension of the light. Yes....Armand the Shadow.

After a day of travelling Armand sat down to rest. He had grown stronger, yet even he needed rest. He thirsted and hungered. At times he thought it better to just become a wolf and feed and let the food digest in the carnal stomach and then revert back once it was done. There was one thing that Armand feared. He loved it. He loved the feel of being a wolf too much. He limited the times he changed for this reason. Perhaps before his mission was done he would become fixed in his wolf state, and become a mad ravenous beast. Such was his fear.

Nightime came and Armand opened his backpack. he pulled out an old book. It was the same one from so long ago.

Armand looked to the ground.

There was enough space, but there may not have been enough magic in the area.

Regardless he spent the next half hour recreating a lesser summoning circle.

The moon, his precious moon, gave him light as he etched into the ground.

Armand the shadow...Armand of the Moon-both things meant the same. He simply was an extension of the Light.

He read the words several times over before he was sure of them. He stuck his blade into the ground and held out his blackened hand.

" Nor ashalanorae il' nashabanorae temarna havel ama Shamarna!"

His voice grew more powerful as his chanted these words.

In due time, the dirt came to resonate a blueish hue.

A portal ripped the earth and slowly a hand pulled at the sod. Following the hand came the rest of the body, dripping in black ooze.

A feminine looking creature stood there, clothed only in the gelatinous liquid that rolled down her frame.

"I am Shamarna, why have you summoned me?"

Armand bowed, familiar with customs.

"I am Armand. I require aid. Name your price demon."

The demon cocked her head a bit,as if thinking. She seemed to read into him.

"You've made other deals."

Armand was suprised, but kept his calm.

The demon seemed angry, yet remained passive.

"It is not wise to ask many people for loans that you may not be able to pay. Soon the creditors will come and you will go deeper in debt."

She was not warning him, simply goading human pride to take him over.

"Shamarna, I require your aid. Name the price."

She smiled. Perhaps he would fail his part of this deal and his soul would be hers to claim.

"Find me a woman to claim. I have not walked this earth in many years."

Armand looked dismayed. A live sacrifice...the other deals he had made required him only to kill. This was different. He would find someone, but he would not be pleased with the result. Still, it was opportunity.

"Very well. I shall call you in three days. I bid you well mistress."

She smiled and began to sink back into her pool of black.

"Humans cannot fathom our plans. Nor should they try to. Nor should they bargain with what is not theirs. "

She was gone.

Armand collapsed and breathed heavily. He was no mage and maintaining his calm and the spell taxed him.

A woman...he needed a woman.