Full, Folder, Previous
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Another half a month has passed. I fully devoted myself to atoning to my fellow guildmates and the gods, and to serving our liege. In that time, I never heard anything that might indicate Safaxer's actions. I was beginning to hope that he had given up and left Kaldenburg. I thought of Jedidah, too. I wondered if the witch was still in the city, and if I should have looked for her and tried to drive her out. But I didn't have time to dwell on it, because soon I received news that turned my whole picture of recent events upside down.

The news caught me in the morning, during a shared meal in the dining room. As usual, my colleagues and I were exchanging news and rumors from both the city and other parts of the Empire and the world. There was nothing remarkable about the conversation until a familiar name came up: Jedidah of Valderath. A wandering demonologist sorceress who shared powerful and, in many places, forbidden knowledge at her sabbaths. For a long time, she had gotten away with it, but luck always runs out eventually.

She had indeed been on her way to our lands, but she would never reach them now, for Jedidah of Valderath had died trying to leave Molland. In one town, the local count's court mage had ordered the guards to disperse a gathering of her followers and seize her. The witch fled, but the chase didn't last long. She lost control of her horse and fell from the saddle into a swamp, where she died. That was at least three months ago. My feathers ruffled at the thought that if Jedidah was really dead, who had we met in the burned house?

***

The clouds were thickening over the city, and it was nearing dusk when I approached the ill-fated house. I was alone, unarmed, and without a plan, but I knew one thing: this goat-witch had to be stopped.

After making sure no one was around, I made my way into the house, and with a determination to deal with the witch, I went to the room where we'd met. I expected to find the black goat there this time, and I did — she was sitting there smoking, just like the first time we met. She reacted calmly to my intrusion: she puffed smoke at me, then smiled wickedly and shamelessly, and her ruby eye seemed to pulsate with a bloody light.

I told her that news had reached me of a Jedidah of Valderath who had failed to get close to the Empire's borders. The smirk on her face didn't go away, so I asked her directly who she was. In a haughty tone, the goat mockingly praised me as if I were a child for the correct answer, and then confirmed the obvious — it was not Jedidah, but someone familiar to her. I again demanded an answer as to what she was. Then the deceiver's smirk disappeared, and what looked like a black goat rose from the chair and looked at me darkly. She was silent for a long time, staring at me with her one eye. When I looked into it, I realized that in front of me stood a vile and alien-to-the-gods evil.

— Thee already know, — she finally said.

I asked her why she was here. Why did she do all this? To seduce mortals away from their gods? But my questions only made her laugh. A hoarse and squeaky laugh like a cart's wheels, which hurt my ears. Then she darkened again, took a puff, let out a thick stream of smoke, and spoke in a low tone. I find it nauseating to write down the words she dared to utter about our gods, but what the demon said next was rather intriguing. It wasn't fighting the gods that brought her here, but the need to get what she couldn't find in her home, as well as a thirst for travel and a desire to have fun. There are places where mercury is beaten out with flint, where fire is cold, where tails grow from the chest, where magic is not at all what we are used to imagining. And some inhabitants from there can move from one place to another, as if walking through a door into another room. Or, it would be more accurate to say, into the kitchen for a treat they don't have.

That was what she had time to tell me before we were distracted by a creaking sound from the hallway and footsteps approaching the room. There in the shadows, I saw a lean, hunched figure. It was a wretched, haggard and ragged creature in rags, with pale fur that had fallen out in many places, a black arm, and gray spots around reddened green eyes. I recognized Johann's features in him. He gave me a blank stare, and then, as if I wasn't even there, he walked over to the goat and fell to his knees in front of it. He cried at its hooves that he could no longer solve the paradox and did not know how he could renounce Arach except to get rid of his gift. This wretched creature began to persuade the black goat to carry him to Helnor in spite of his unresolved trials. The witch said: — Yes, — simply and easily, as if she were being asked to pass a mug of water from the other end of the table. The dog's reaction was hard to describe. When his shock passed, he quietly thanked her, got to his feet, and rivers of tears streamed down his face.

I bluntly asked the witch why all this was necessary? She smiled and said that Safaxer had not asked to be transported to another world, but had asked for the secret of how to do it. She was bored, so she came up with this idea. If Johann had then asked to be teleported to Helnor as she had suggested, that demon would have complied unhesitatingly. I found no words to respond, only further confirmation that the creatures from outside are insidious and vile evil.

They both stood at the spot where a pentagram had been drawn in charcoal. What was in the shell of a black goat placed a hand on Safaxer's shoulder. The creature uttered incantations, and with its free hand it began to draw sigils in the air, unknown to me, that glowed purplish-red, and the pentagram on the floor glowed with the same light. At the end of the ritual, a round portal opened beneath them, glittering with poisonous colors, into which the two began to sink slowly. The black goat pulled a scarlet ruby from its eye socket and threw it into my hands, saying it was for my wisdom. After that, the demonologist and his mistress finally plunged downward. The portal closed, and I never saw them again in my life.

***

Since then, I never wanted to hear anything about traveling to other realms or their inhabitants. The wicked ruby I decided to bury in the wilderness deep underground, and after a long time, I made sure that the cursed house was demolished, so that there would be no more reminders of the visit of this creature to our world, except for this cautionary tale. I hope this story will convince you that demonologists are lost souls who deserve scorn and persecution, and that demons should never be allowed into our world.

If someone is outraged by the crimes that I confessed to in these pages, and after so many years still believes that I deserve punishment — I will not oppose it. I believe that I have made amends for my sins by making sacrifices and gifts to the gods, by serving as archmage to His Lordship the Count and then His Grace the Duke of Kaldenburg, and by helping his subjects. Furthermore, most of the people I've done any harm to are no longer alive, and I've lost the stolen mirror from Castal. But if, after the publication of this manuscript, I am imprisoned and tried, I will not resist, and I am ready to face whatever justice may come.

In conclusion, I must confess that my statement that I never saw Safaxer again is not quite true. One night, my mirror lit up again. But it did not glow for long; a piece of paper flew out of it, and then it went dark. When I picked it up, I could smell smoke, sulfur, and some other foul stench. The piece of paper was covered with ashes, and the inscription on it was written in blood. It read: "Praise the gods."

***

These assurances are written by the senior master of the Kaldenburg's Scriptorium. Unfortunately, His Wisdom the Archmage of Kaldenburg, Sidokar Kemass, died in a fire caused by a magical object ignited under his bed. He managed to complete the book, but did not live to see his manuscript bound and rewritten by our guild. Thank the gods it survived and was passed on by his servants. Nothing in this book has been edited, and everything in the previous pages is written by master Kemass alone.