Chapter 2: The Offer

“Why am I doing this,” they muttered under their breath as they were walking towards the building with the house number written on the card. They had taken an earlier train just in case and then waited at the station until it was time to start walking. Still, they were five minutes early.

The weather was pleasant for this time of the year, and the cold, bright sun made buildings cast long shadows. But it wasn’t just the weather. A lot of things were unusually nice: their train had been on time, and even the later train, the one they were afraid would be late, had entered the station at the scheduled time. Even breakfast had been a bit nicer today. The chocolate spread had tasted a bit sweeter than on other days, and it had melted to just the right degree on the warm toast.

“Lord Agbar,” a voice behind them said. It sounded familiar, and when they turned around, they recognised the small, bald man in a black suit. “I hope You have not been waiting too long.”

“No, I’m still… early, right?” They were so sure that nobody had been behind them on their way to their destination, yet this man sneaked up on them just like he had disappeared the week before.

“Of course You are, but our schedule is based on Your needs, my Dark Lord.”

“I… think there might be a misunderstanding.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I’m not a lord of anything. And my name isn’t Agbar either. To be honest, I never heard that name before. Could you stop calling me that?”

The man hesitated for a moment. “I would prefer not to.” After a pause, he added, “But if that is your wish, Your Highness, I will abide by it.” Before they could get in another word, he continued, “Now, if it pleases You, we can set off to today’s event.” He opened the door of a black car with tinted windows that stood on the side of the street.

They had a questioning look on their face. They waited. They didn’t even think about getting into that car. But something was alluring.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” the man said with a slight bow.

“If you wanna kill me, as much as I don’t care, just know that I have a family that will be extremely sad, and you should really--”

“My Dark Lord,” the man interrupted them. “Forgive me for cutting You off, but You can rest assured that Your travels on this day are being handled from the very top. Nobody, truly, nobody could do you any harm this day. They are keen on preventing that.”

“They are… Would you swear on that?” they asked.

The man gave a small chuckle, barely enough motion to be perceived, and answered, “Most surely, but that would be disrespectful to my Liege. I shall not swear on the work of someone much more powerful than me.”

The two of them stood there for a few more minutes. The car’s door remained open, its handle in the man’s hand, and was waiting for them to enter. It was as if the car were calling them, singing the song of a siren. After five motionless minutes, the man corrected his posture.

“My Dark Lord, if You wish to leave, You are free to do so at any time, including right now. My Liege has informed me that You are the preferred person for this event, but if You wish to pass up the opportunity, nobody will--”

“I’m coming,” they said and entered the car. The door fell shut behind them, and the man entered the driver’s seat.

“Very well, Your Highness. It will be ten minutes until we arrive at the event.”

“What kind of event are we talking about, exactly?” they asked while putting on their seatbelt. The man did not put on his seatbelt and pulled out of the parking space.

“As stated in the invitation, it will be concerned with the initiation of Your status in the Royal family through the King.”

“A King?”

“Correct. Forgive me, my Dark Lord, but it has not been allowed to me to give out any more information.”

“You keep calling me your dark lord. That sounds like it should mean something. Can’t I just order you to tell me, then?”

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A bit annoyed at this point, the man replied, “Unfortunately, positions ranking higher than Yours in the hierarchy have prohibited me from doing so. You understand such a dilemma. My Dark Lord.”

“I see.” They were disappointed, but that logic was air-tight. “It’ll only be a bit longer before I find out anyway, so whatevs.” The man nodded in agreement.

After a few minutes, the car drove into a short tunnel. On the other side, the sky had turned red, and the mountains were black. The sun was dimmer than on Earth, and through the heavily tinted windows, it was barely visible. It shone its light on the people on the side of the street that stared at the car as it passed by. The passenger could see them from the backseat, but the people couldn’t see them. More time passed, and after ten minutes in the car, they reached the indoor parking of a large, dark building shaped like a palace. The man exited the driver’s seat and opened the back door for them.

“We have arrived, my Dark Lord.”

When they exited the car, their jaw dropped. The ceiling of the room they were in had a height of at least seven metres, and if that was only the garage, what would the living quarters look like? From the ceiling hung chandeliers that held bright, blue flames, and the walls were lined with torches that held the same flames. Between every pair of torches, there stood an arch lined with bricks, almost as tall as the ceiling and wide enough for their car to comfortably fit through had they been gates. Under those arches, there stood statues of eldritch horrors, demons, and other ne’er-do-wells that they could never have dreamt of. Right in front of them was the largest arch that was as wide as two regular ones. It was a gate blocked by two black, wooden doors that looked like they should have been ashes. They started swinging open slowly.

“Holy shit,” they whispered under their breath.

“If You are so inclined,” the man said as he started leading the way, “a vocabulary more appropriate for this place may be favourable.”

They walked through the large gate into an even larger hallway lined with red carpet. On each side of this hallway, there was a row of doors spaced five metres apart. They walked along the doors until the man stopped in front of one of them. He pushed down the handle of the heavy oak door and pushed inward. Behind it, he revealed another, smaller hallway that only had one door on the other side. This other door opened into a large, dark room. The man closed the door again without entering himself, and they were alone in the room.

“Hello?” they said after a minute in silent darkness. They took a step forward, carefully feeling for any walls with their hands. “Is anybody there?”

“Why yes,” a voice replied. “Welcome!”

A dark, red fire blazed up in four large hearths, two on the left and two on the right side of the room. On the walls without a hearth, torches lit up, though these had fires as red as that of the hearths. The red carpet continued from the hallway and led into the room, and it ended in front of a small stage at the wall opposite the door. On this stage made from solid stone, there resided four chairs, one more decorated than the other, and on those chairs – thrones! – sat four individuals.

“Come, my Dark Lord,” the voice said, enunciating each word with care yet jumping from syllable to syllable. “I am sorry we let you wait. But now that we are all here, we can commence the proceedings. Come on in, come closer.”

They approached the thrones, carefully measuring every step, and couldn’t help but ask, “What kind of proceedings are we talking about, exactly?”

“Come, my Dark Lord, and we will explain,” the voice said, and as they approached the group, they could make out the faces of two of the four individuals.

The one who was speaking sat on the largest, most decorated throne. He had a pale, white face and rosy cheeks, and he wore an elegant, cream-coloured suit with golden bits here and there. Soft, blond hair framed his face, amidst which two eager, yellow eyes with a black iris sat. He was grinning, but the smile seemed to be ingrained in his face.

To his right stood a smaller throne with another man on it. His bald head was covered by a golden crown, but his brown beard was full and well-kept. He looked old, yet he had a radiance of youthfulness as he sat there, resting his head on his hand and his elbow on the throne’s armrest. He wore a large, black robe reminiscent of paintings of medieval kings in school books. He looked grim.

There were two more thrones to the left and right, but they couldn’t tell who was sitting on them. Despite the four hearths and the many torches, the light was too dim.

“Excuse my rudeness,” the blond man said. “We haven’t had this type of arrangement in centuries, no, millennia.” A chuckle underlined the word millennia, and they weren’t sure what to make of that. There was no way anybody could live for such a long time, and they were not inclined to believe the man.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man continued. “No, in fact, I’m being rude again. Bael, would you like to go first? After all, it’s your signature that’s on the invitation.”

The old man stood up with laboured breathing. Erected, he seemed tall, much taller than any human they had ever seen, and the crown that glistened in the light of the fires made him even taller. He stood up and held one hand in the other behind his back.

“Bael Rex, Artis Goetiae.” His voice was rough like gravel. It was as if he had been a smoker for the millennia he claimed to have been alive, and it sent chills down their spine. “I am Bael of the Ars Goetia, a King of Hell. It is my invitation that you have followed to this place.” After his short introduction, Bael sat down, put one leg over the other with his hands folded on his knee, and turned silent again.

“Wonderful.” The blond man chuckled and gave Bael a look one gives an old friend. “Now that you know who Bael is, it’s my turn.” He jumped from his throne, his right hand in a fist before his chest. “My name is Lucifer. I am the Prince of Hell, and Bael and I would like to make you an offer.”

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