Lost Soul

Satan stood at the wooden door, a pitch black cloak concealing all that he was to the murky midnight air and surrounding marshy swamp. It was rare for him to leave his castle in the metropolis of Inferno without any sort of entourage, as is the life of the Devil King, leader of all demons; but this was not of normal circumstance. His hand went to knock, only lightly, for fear of breaking the whole decrepit home in half if he used even an ounce of power.

After all these years, nothing has changed.

The door pulled open before his hand made contact, revealing an older devil, his horns large and imposing, arching backward and down before curling forward and framing his face much like his own. The being stood muscled, but unlike Satan, he had a litany of old battle scars and wrinkles seemed to flirt from every possible crevice with his hair reminding of heated coal, jet black with splatters of grey ash.

Satan offered a crooked smile as he lowered his cloak from his horns, his fiery red hair flowing down to his shoulders as he did. "Kalitas; it does me well to see you, Old Friend."

"Yes, Your Eminence. I wish it was under better circumstances." Kalitas stepped aside to allow Satan to enter.

"I came as swiftly as possible. An urgent message from you can never be ignored." Satan took a step inside the small home, a meager fire showcasing all the humbled living quarters. From a small, circular wooden table with two chairs, a bed that appeared it would break if Kalitas laid on it, to the bookshelf with several grimoire's lining them; it was the home of a devil with few wants or needs - an oddity for a being whose primal instincts are to desire and create desires in others.

"The final two humans I corrupted have succumbed to their fate and their souls have been harvested."

Satan took a breath. Kalitas had been his greatest asset - from corrupting and harvesting souls, his unparalleled magical power, but most importantly, as the very mentor his Father brought in to personally teach and train him. Kalitas will not be easily replaced.

Satan's smile widened as he placed a hand on Kalitas' shoulder. "Congratulations, Old Friend. There has never been a more deserving devil of retirement. From being a war hero and going shoulder to shoulder with my Father in the Holy War battles against God and his angels to being the highest rated devil in terms of harvesting souls thereafter, you truly are a living legend amongst our ranks. Every devil and demon knows of the great Kalitas Khmer and wishes to achieve your accolades. Yes, you are a beacon of..."

"Wwwaaaaaaahhh!"

Satan's eyes raised at the interruption. "Kalitas; what was that?"

A baby boy crawled out from under the bed, a patch of brown hair adorning his scalp. It's head tilted, a pair of chocolate pupils fixed their sights briefly onto Satan in a curious manner before staring at Kalitas and crying again.

"The final two souls I collected, a Mother and a Father, both heavily addicted to drugs, overdosed. At the scene was this child, who I also thought was dead due to the parents having supplied him with drugs as well. I rapidly went to work in hopes of leaving before the angel, Azrael, came for the childs soul. Apparently, the child had breath still in his body and grabbed my cloak as I crossed the dimensional rift back here. I immediately healed him, for if he had parished while in hell, our treaty with God would have been nullified and Archangel Michael would have sent his battle angels to fetch the soul causing a war neither side could afford. Without death, we are still in compliance with the treaty, though I am thoroughly convinced if I try to take the child back, an ambush would await me on Earth." Kalitas bowed his head as he kneeled. "I have failed you, Sire. I am prepared to take responsibility for my recklessness."

Satan looked at Kalitas, knowing that any prospect of damaging the fragile treaty in place was a sentence of execution for any devil. But there was no provision for simply taking a human to hell. An intriguing loophole as no angel would have thought a devil would dare do so and one he will definitely remember. "Raise your head, Old Friend. Your swift instincts have served you well." Satan moved to one of the chairs and sat down. His fingers went to his chin in contemplation as he stared at the human child. "Now what to do with him?"

"Sire," Kalitas stood. "If not with my life, allow me to take responsibility for my transgression and care for the child."

"Here in hell?" Satan was taken aback. He never would have asked that question if it were not for the sheer surprise of Kalitas' statement. Satan knew, perhaps more than anyone, how much Kalitas hated repeating himself.

Kalitas did not answer.

"Yes, very well then," Satan gave a small nod as he stood. "Care for the child, teach it no less then you taught me. But, above all else, protect him well. A human in a devil's world would be easy prey. His death will spell war for us all and I fear our fellow devils, especially amongst the seven noble families, have fallen too comfortable in the competition of luxury to survive."

Kalitas watched as Satan left before another hungry cry came from the child. "Yes, very well then; retirement will have to be delayed." He picked up the baby boy and cradled him in his arms. He used his index finger and tickled the childs stomach eliciting a playful snicker from both participants before turning over his hand and opening his palm just as a bottle appeared. The child quickly latched onto the offered nipple, "Now what to call you?"

Kalitas stared at the baby who was staring at him. He cracked a smirk which caused the baby to smile around the bottle and wave an arm at him. It warmed his heart. His facial expression fell to one of abject seriousness, his words became a life pact, "I swear to you, I will train you in unarmed combat. I will teach you in academia." He then glanced to the grimoire filled bookshelf, "And I swear I will teach you in the ways of magic." He paused briefly, almost surprising himself with his next words, "And you will be loved, Barclay."

*

Eighteen years later:

Kalitas stood fifteen paces away from a brash teenager. His adversary was toned muscle in his typical t shirt and jeans ensemble with his feathered brown hair blowing gently in the breeze and his brown eyes piercing his own, echoing a seriousness in what was soon to come.

Quick as an eagle, Kalitas flung first his right arm forward followed by his left, both generating fireballs that hurled toward Barclay. Not content with just two, he continued the onslaught.

Barclay waved his hands, each generating a shield of water. He spun to the left as the fireballs evaporated one by one and, with a slight nod of his head, sent a hurricane sized wind at Kalitas.

The slight angle change caught Kalitas off guard and he fell onto his back, and much to his surprise, roots from the ground wrapped tightly around his body.

Barclay darted forward, taking three steps before leaping in the air. His predetermined landing zone was his right knee to the face of his opponent.

The eyes of Kalitas went wide before he flexed every muscle he had with enough force to break through the vines. At the last moment, he rolled to the right to dodge the attack. He outstretched both of his legs and spun; an attack while using his momentum to spring to his feet.

"My dear Barclay, I dare say that last attack would have broken my nose."

"Merely an offer at an improvement, Uncle," Barclay jumped back and away from the kick before stepping forward with a fire encrusted punch.

"Your sarcasm never ceases to amaze."

Kalitas pivoted left and pushed at Barclay's forearm with his left hand while his right fist sought the teens back. "How disappointing? You are wide open."

"Now Uncle, you know you taught me better than that," Barclay smiled as a block of water manifested behind his back. The punch did connect, but as it had glided through the liquid barrier, its force dissolved to nothing. He spun around, connecting with a punch of his own, splitting Kalitas's lip. "Now give up this charade; you know you cannot possibly defeat me."

"An arrogant, prideful statement spoken like a true devil," Kalitas took a step back to dodge a second punch that would have blown up his eye. He was one hundred percent on defense now, blocking and dodging a repeated barrage of fists and elbows as his feet kept giving ground. The constant pressure too much to even allow the use of his magic.

"Fact is not pride, Uncle. It is truth." Barclay smirked as he cast a water spell as he kept forcing Kalitas back. "And I am not a devil."

Two shuffled steps in reverse and Kalitas knew he was in trouble. The solid ground gave way to a heavy, sinking mud as if the ground had suffered a month of flooding. In his consternation, another punch had landed, followed quickly by another before the solid earth around the small mud hole rose and encased him like a tomb.

"Well played." Kalitas took the slight reprieve to cast a wind spell, one that exploded the earthly coffin into dust. He took a step out of the mud to see Barclay smiling devilishly. "What?"

The explosion was great as it came in a circle around Kalitas. The power knocked him to the ground, unconscious.

Barclay cringed, "Oops; too much force."

*

Kalitas grimaced from his headache as he sat up in his bed. His hand wiped at his face, "That kid is insanely powerful. It has been nearly two years since I bested him in combat... Three if we do not count our 'no use of magic' fights."

"Uncle; you are finally awake," Barclay ventured through the front door with a smile and his fishing gear, a few fish caught in a net. "Let me get you some water. He set down all he carried and pulled out a cup before filling it with water and handing it to his mentor. "Allow me to apologize; I was testing your chemistry lesson and must have pulled too much hydrogen out of the water before I ignited it with a fire spell."

"It was a well devised strategy," Kalitas sipped at the water. "You must be careful, however. If your intent was not to kill, you did a poor job. I am only alive because I have healing magic in my arsenal."

"Yes, Uncle," Barclay nodded. "I will try to be more cognizant of my actions."

Kalitas gave a soft smile, "I have trained you well. Even I am amazed that your body accepted the infusion of magic spell, let alone that it would develop with you. I feel fortunate to have even discovered that spell, and now that I know its might; its secret will perish with me. I know you will respect its power; and I also know others will not."

"You have my word, Uncle."

"Very well." Kalitas took another drink followed by a content breath. His body was healing. "Time is fleeting. Have you made a decision on your future?"

"With great debate, I have."

"Excellent," Kalitas nodded. "Oxford, Harvard, Korea Advanced Institute of Science & Technology?"

"I choose," Barclay then smiled, "Brimstone University."

"What?" Kalitas vehemently coughed in exasperation.

Barclay chuckled.

"Barclay," Kalitas shook his head, his tone serious. "You are a human; you belong in the human world."

"That is where you are wrong, Uncle," Barclay stared at his mentor. "You insist that because I am human, I belong on earth, but this is my home. It is all I have ever known... and since I am not a devil, I cannot open the dimensional rift. I could never come back. You are my only family, and though you told me I should call you Uncle, you are my Dad. I love you."

"I love you too, Barclay," Kalitas engulfed the teen in a fierce hug before releasing him. "But no human has ever lived in hell, and if you were to be found out, it would spell disaster. I wish you would reconsider."

"I will be fine. I have a permanent spell to give the appearance of horns and if anybody else has issue, I will just have to pull more hydrogen from water."

"Hell help us if that is required," Kalitas rolled his eyes at Barclay's attempt at humor. "It is not only that, but Brimstone University also makes it mandatory to attend magical classes, and battle other students in which you are over qualified. Most devils can only harness one element and perhaps dabble into another spell, but you command all, as well as the healing magic I have instilled in you."

"But I am also at a disadvantage," Barclay interrupted. "Though it depends on their power, devil's can naturally conjure items, whilst I cannot."

"There is also the issue of class," Kalitas rebuked. "Devil's are an elite, arrogant lot; you will be mocked for not being a noble, and separated into a class for peasants. Your station will be predetermined."

"If separated, then I will have a haven to shun those who wish to do me harm."

"But what will you study?" Kalitas tilted his head, "Certainly you do not wish to major in soul harvesting?"

"Are you not the one who always states that humans need to take responsibility? Sure devil's offer the means, but we only harvest souls if they deserve it and you always say that a fair payment in respect to what was offered is mandated. A soul is not the only obligatory compensation." Barclay shook his head, "But no, not soul harvesting. At first, I wanted to go into medicine, especially with healing magic on my side, but now I was thinking of majoring in diplomacy."

Kalitas' forehead crinkled in consternation.

"Think of it, Uncle," Barclay grinned broadly. "What better person is there to negotiate between angels and devils over the rights of humans than a human?"

"It appears your mind is determined," Kalitas chuckled. "Besides, what kind of devil would I be if I kept you from your desires?"

Barclay laughed.

"Since your decision lies with hell, remember this," Kalitas continued. "Devils have desires and act on those desires without a second thought. They are also attracted to power, and you are powerful. Males will wish to fight you at every turn to prove they are your better. As for females, take heed. Ensure both parties have the same goal beforehand or your heart may be the victim... But that is not to say they do not believe in love; love from a devil is meaningful and profound as they mate for life, but lust always comes first."

Barclay laughed again, "Is this the devil's version of the sex talk?"

"Laugh now," Kalitas stared down Barclay. "And the answer is no. In hell, lust is an indulgence; there is no need for a sex talk, except that it better be mutual as the penalty is death. I am simply giving a warning to keep you from being hurt, as is my rightful duty as your guardian."

Barclay nodded, "I will be careful."

"Very well," Kalitas sighed. "Enjoy college."

*

Barclay stood in awe. Looking down Sulfur Hills Boulevard; dormitory houses stood on both sides, sixteen in all. The male and female dorm rooms for the members of the seven noble families, Envy, Gluttony, Greed, Lust, Pride, Sloth, and Wrath, were made of gold and adorned with fine statues, fountains, and gardens, as well as a seperate servants quarters behind them, whilst the driveways were littered with fancy Italian cars and limousines - estates fit for kings and queens. The last two paled in comparison with the most basic of dormitories under the guise that the non royalty students should feel lucky they even have a roof over their heads.

It was also easy to spy who was who. Every member of royalty was dressed as if it were a competition, who could wear the newest fashions and expensive trends, while the commoners wore typical teenage attire.

Regardless, Barclay was used to the simple life and had zero problems with the meager accommodations. He was just happy to have his own room that already had a bed, dresser, and a nightstand as well as a desk that he can place the laptop Kalitas had given to him as a present. With so few items, mainly clothes, it was a quick unpacking, allowing him plenty of time to arrive at orientation.

*

"Look at that loser commoner freshman over there."

"My, someone thinks highly of himself to head to orientation an hour early."

The first devil's voice got louder, "Yeah, you piece of shit... You're nothing, you hear? The only thing you might be good for is carrying my bags!"

Barclay ignored the taunts.

*

Barclay sat in the well worn red seat, his back touching the wall.

Even the auditorium was segregated. On the main floor were the royals, with the seniors closest to the stage, while the upper level was reserved for the less than hierarchy, with the freshman in the back.

"Hey, are these seats taken?"

Barclay glanced to the voice to see a pair of devils. A male with black hair done in an unkempt tussled way with an average build and a female with curly, shoulder length auburn hair and a lithe frame who seemed to be doing her best to hide behind her friend. Both their hands showed a ruggedness from last minute magical training.

"By all means," Barclay gestured to the two open seats to his left.

"Thanks," the male slid into the seat next to Barclay allowing the female to be on the aisle.

"No thanks needed," Barclay allowed them to get situated before adding with a slightly cracked smile, "That will be fifty in cash... each."

Both paused before the male noticed Barclay's expression, "Funny." He shook his head. "The name's Brand and this is Maren. We're both from Prosh, a small farming village in Sloth's territory. I take it from your joke you're from Greed's territory?"

Barclay thought for a moment. None of the seven noble families actually claimed the swampy marsh area in which he lived. No one ever wanted it. "Actually, it was in Wrath's area." It was the closest, anyways. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. "I understand you specialize in fire?"

"Yeah," Brand nodded. "Though it's more of a work in progress."

"And, Maren, your specialty is water?"

Maren jumped in her chair at being brought into the conversation. She glanced briefly at Barclay, but with his eyes fixated on her, she looked down. "Yeah, water."

"Aw, Maren," Brand put his arm around her shoulder and shook her briefly. "I thought you wanted to work on that?"

"That was me working on that," Meren shrugged with a small grin. Her voice no longer meek as she spoke with her friend.

"Sorry, man, she's been shy since forever. It took me three years before she even spoke with me, and that's because I pried like a crowbar," Brand shook his head before he turned toward Barclay. "Say, how did you know what type of magic we used?"

Barclay gave a sly smile, "You have burn marks on your hands and hers are covered in wrinkles as if they were held in water for long periods of time."

Maren looked at her hands and then looked back at Barclay, impressed at his observation.

"Hey, that's a great trick," Brand laughed. "Let me see your hands so I can guess what your magic is."

Barclay held out his hand. It was smooth as he had learned long ago how to protect himself from himself.

"Hmm," Brand stared for any clue. "What do you think, Maren?"

"I'm not sure." Maren then looked to the stage to see Dean Aber, a tall, imposing devil in a suit. "Why do they put the freshman in the back? You'd think they would put the people who haven't been here before in a place to be able to hear the speakers."

Barclay pulled his hand back with a chuckle, "Yes, keep all the new students in the dark so all the nobles have a reason to get mad at us."

Both Brand and Maren laughed.

"Ain't that the truth," Brand smacked at his leg.

"Still," Maren shook her head, "This is the most prestigious University, and I feel fortunate I got accepted at all."

"Especially coming from Prosh," Brand finalized the conversation as the Dean began to speak.

*

"Now then, the next three speakers, and all from the noble family of Pride, will be the elected Student Council President, Elio Dempsey," - a hulking devil, his black hair gelled to perfection with muscles that threatened to destroy his shirt, stood, "Resident Advisor and final arbiter in student disputes, last years top student in academia, Tempest Bellerose," - a long, strawberry blonde devil with everything styled to perfection and a body that oozed of sophisticated sex appeal, stood, "and, of course, last years top student, the first ever champion of the Warpath Tournament that was not a senior, Wystan Beaufort," - a toned muscled devil with a crop top of red hair and a smug look strewn across his face, stood.