The Magus jolted from his chair and fell upon his floor. His eyes stared and stared at the Gentleman who called himself Lucifer. The Magus put a shaking hand over his mouth and rose to his feet. Lucifer remained seated and pulled the Magus’s food towards himself. He raised his hand, waved over the food and the Magus watched as steam rose from food that was reheated once again. That was all he needed to see to be fully convinced of the sudden and terrifying claim.

  “Why are you here?” he asked breathlessly, retaking his seat and watching the Devil himself devour his food. Lucifer had produced a silver fork and knife from thin air and began tucking into the helpless lamb.

  “Surely there has to be a reason.” the Magus pushed. “Some sort of divine providence that brought you here to me. Was it my work? My studies of the celestials or the ancient rituals? What was it? What drew you here to me?”

  Lucifer looked up at the man with hot lamb filling his mouth and meekly surrendering to his sharp teeth. He made a confused look, chewed the meat quickly and swallowed. “Well… firstly, I was hungry. I thought your food smelled nice.”

  The Magus thought that Lucifer was joking. But no laugher came from the Devil, so he decided that he was not.

  Lucifer flicked his wrist and a small jade bottle filled with a black liquid appeared in his open hand. He sipped from it and made a long sigh. “Secondly, you intrigued me good sir. You have dared to go where no one else has. Even your predecessors and your peers have not reached the level of intellect that you have. It mildly impressed me.”

  The Magus nodded. “I thank you. It is a good thing to hear praise from one as infamous as you.”

  “You seemed to have acclimatised well to my presence. Most men would run from me in terror or try to attack me with asinine holy scriptures… But you are not like most men.”

  “No. I am not. I have a mind to accept the expanding rules of our world. Tell me, are there truly seven great governors that rule over the seven planets within our Sol Order? Why are there seven? Why are they here? Why are we here? Have you seen the God Above All? Do you know why you and God were created-?”

  Lucifer raised a finger and wagged it. “Tut, tut, good man.” He picked up the lamb bone and began to carefully peel flesh from it with his teeth. “One must not give too much away. What would the journey of knowledge mean afterwards? There wouldn't be much point to the learning if you knew everything already…”

  “I understand. Yes, the process of knowledge is half the matter. And there is always a price for such information, yes?”

  “Indeed.”

  Lucifer laid down his bone and pushed the plate aside. He leant on the table and fixed the Magus with a quiet stare. “Your Symbol. You know of the one that I speak of.” He extended a finger and dragged his nail across the table. The Magus looked on as Lucifer began carving a sigil upon the wood. It took only a second for him to recognise his work being replicated.

  “My Hieroglyph!”

  “It is unique, good sir. I have never seen its like before, and coming from a man who has travelled to many places and many worlds, that says a great deal. I praise your ingenuity in creating it.”

  “Thank you kindly. It took many years to formulate the correct insignia.”

  “And how have you faired with it so far?”

  “I have seen dreams when I picture the sigil within my mind. Visions of metal birds in the sky. Moving paintings made of light and talking boxes with women speaking for men. Such images astounded me. But that is all that I have found with the sigil. There is nothing more that can be derived from it. I may have scratched the surface of the inner world and the great system that controls us all, but that is it. I am still merely a man.”

  “Which has led you here. Where you considered very much to take your own life.”

  The Magus met his gaze. “Yes. I have done all I could and it never amounted to anything of worth.”

  “And that is where you are so desperately wrong. So wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This sigil,” Lucifer tapped at the symbol on the table, “could become the singular most powerful tool at your disposal. You simply haven't found the correct way to harness it.”

  “What do you mean? I have tried everything.”

  “No, you haven’t.”

  The Magus watched Lucifer who simply returned the look with an amiable eye. “What do you want? There is a price to be had here.”

  “Yes. I never teach pro bono.”

  “So be it.” The Magus nodded and rose to his feet. “What is your price?”

  Lucifer raised a finger. “Ah- hold for a moment. Think about this. Understand that the price must meet the favour. Always. Balance is key to the state of the world. So what I shall ask for is steep. Are you absolutely certain that you wish to continue?”

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  The Magus faced down the Devil.

  “I was a young lad when I watched my father fade away into the nothings of oblivion. I watched his soul be sucked into the darkness. And in that moment, where his soul glowed an incandescent light. For that second, between his life and his end, I believed that he would arise.

  Like Lazarus.

  Stand and face the world, to take on all of its pain and sadness and rage and blood and darkness. But no. No. I did not see his second rising. I did not see my miracle. That was beyond him. What I saw in his eyes was fear. Truest terror of the grip of mortality. I saw Mortality coming to tear through my father’s corporeal form and rip out his soul in a ravenous hunger. I was helpless. Nothing I could do could stop him from departing this world. My daughter wailed by my side. I looked up at God. And roared at him to intervene. To delay death! To put a stopper to the end that my father was doomed to.

  And so he died.

  I stared at his body…… I watched as he took his final breath… as his limbs became still…

  Later that night, I had a dream. Of darkness, decay and isolation. I felt myself be dragged into the dark tar pit of Hell. My feet burned. The scent of my hair, singed by the heat, stung my nose. I cried out, but no voice came. I was silent. I was helpless like a lame and blind lamb, awaiting for the wolves to come and ravage me. I tore open my hand and yelled to God. Like that night when my father died… I screamed for God to come and spare me!

  I cried, ‘Lord Jesu! Save me! Take me away from my dark fate! I wish to live! I wish to walk again amongst the living! I want to love, drink and eat and laugh! Give me time! Spare me over! Make the Angel of Death Passover me! Passover!’

  But no answer came. I felt it. Fear. It was hands, cold, long and clawed. They pushed into my skin and crawled up along my bones and muscles, clutching and scratching and searching for my resolve. My heart lay there, open to it. And before I could plead for mercy, Fear came and grabbed my heart. With its many hands, it squeezed my heart like a ripe apple. I felt my soul burst and spew from my heart. As the blood pustulated from my organ, I screamed.

  I awoke in my bed. In the middle of the night. And there I was, alive and very much afraid. I looked around at my chambers. All I saw was the end. All that I had acquired. All of my books, my charts, my citations, my instruments, my works, my goals, my aspirations… all would be for nothing when I die. When I lie rotting in the ground, returning to the divine, my home would be taken and bought by another. They shall sleep in my bed, eat at my table, walk through my doors. But they will not remember me. My life would be forgotten. My life would be a moment. A mere pebble on the pathway of Life. I would be kicked aside and forgotten by the world…

  Nothing would matter.

  I blinked. And I said ‘No. My life will not be for nothing. It will have meaning. It shall have greatness. It shall change the world in ways that no mere human being can comprehend! I shall advance into a new place of existence! I will do what no man has ever done before nor has man ever achieved since! I shall defy Death.’ That is what my journey had led me to accomplish. If I were to stop now, not only would I betray my father’s memory… I would be betraying my promise. No price is too steep, so name it.”

  Lucifer threw back his head, slapped his knee and made that cutting cackle.

  “My, my! Well said! So be it. My price shall be a human soul. As per the usual request for such services rendered. When the time comes, I shall choose the soul to be taken with me. No other substitute is admissible. Agreed?”

  The Magus rubbed his mouth. Then he smiled and nodded. “Agreed.”

  Lucifer clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He opened his coat and pulled out a small piece of rolled parchment made from papyrus with a violet feathered quill pen. After rolling out the parchment on the table, the Magus was able to read it in full:

  Fac Daemonum

  If the recipient has signed below, it is empirical proof that the recipient in question has agreed to all conditions that are to be met upon closure of agreed deal.

  Failure to comply with finalised demand shall result in both annulment of deal and swift, bloody retribution.

  The period in which the deal is to be finalised shall be stated by the maker of said deal.

  Please sign below:

  Lucifer handed the quill to the Magus.

  The old man balanced the quill in his hand. It had a weight to it that was not betrayed by its delicate design of silver and gold, topped with that unusual feather. The brass beak of its nib shone in the light that drifted through the windows of the dining room.

  The Magus watched then watched on as Lucifer extended his arm and, by using his knife, slit his wrist. The Magus was about to pull the parchment away from the blood that should have flowed from the induced wound, but none flowed.

  Instead the black blood from Lucifer’s arm only bubbled and bloated upon the cut. The globular bubble of blood had disobeyed gravity and refused to coagulate.

  “Please, dip your quill.” Lucifer asked.

  The Magus hesitantly reached over and pecked the black blood with the quill’s nib. The black liquid surged up into the nib as if it were a hand that grabbed instinctively for anything that strayed too close.

  The Magus drew the quill away and he could see the blood pulsing ever so subtly under the nib’s shoulders and tines. He bent down, sighed a resigned breath and signed his name.

  The nib scratched at the parchment.

  The black blood, acting like ink itself, splattered and stained the paper. The Magus began to feel a deepening sense of odd nausea. Not from fear, but from the excitement of possible knowledge that had remained out of his reach.

  And that he was now crossing point which had no return. If it were to take a deal with a demon to achieve his goal for longevity, for science, for ascension and divinity, then so be it.

  If he were to become the next Doctor Faustus, to attain power at the cost of another, then so be it.

  The Magus drew himself away and Lucifer lifted up the signed parchment. After appraising the signature of the Magus, he nodded with his effortless grin and rolled up the parchment.

  “Then we have a deal. It is a honour to make your full acquaintance, Master John Dee.”

  “It is I, who is honoured.” John Dee the Magus replied with a bow.