Consider, for a moment, the classic Devil's Deal. It is a curious thing, with some very interesting logical consequences.
An agreement between a mortal - whether they are of upstanding morality or oblivious to the benefits of benevolence being immaterial - and a creature of such diabolical nature that they can only be described as a harbinger of purest evil, wherein the mortal pledges their immortal soul in exchange for a service of some kind. Such services may be to grant otherworldly power, unnatural skill or luck, the love of someone or other, or insight that is beyond their mortal minds. Or perhaps even all of the above, if they play their hand well. All that, for a single soul.
Clearly, the soul is either vastly more important than such a tiny word would imply, or devils are some of the worst negotiators in existence.
Common sense would have one believe the former, but a cynical mind would likely suspect the latter.
And such a mind would be right. Souls are intrinsically worthless. A simple study of its properties and a basic course in economics would inform you of such, as it is the one currency that both self-propagates and is all but impossible to completely destroy. The market for souls is where all sense of value goes to die.
And yet, the legend of the Devil's Deal endures. How can such a thing be?
Because that is the essence of evil. Evil, for evil’s sake.
Any reasonable person, when in the position of a devil, would likely settle for possessing just a few souls. Enough to suit their purpose, whatever that may be. But not a devil. Devils do not reflect on their actions, they do not innovate, they do not care about results. They take souls because they want them, and they want souls because they can be tormented for all time.
And they want as many as they can get because more is better. They would blindly steal the souls of all living creatures simply to acquire more, heedless to the fact that it would mean that there would be no more.
That is the true face of evil. At its best, evil serves itself first and foremost.
At its worst it serves nothing.
To accept evil, to willingly commit oneself to its sinister enterprise, is to forfeit sense and reason.
It is why I try not to be that way. Or rather, I try to be less so.
My name Abraxas, and I am a prince of Hell. These days I go by the name Art Axis, and I run the apothecary just down the street. Don’t trouble yourself with the details of which street.
It’s a much more fulfilling use of my talents than you might suspect.
“Abyssal sea salts, you say?” I repeated thoughtfully, giving my chin a gentle stroke. “That’s not exactly something most apothecary’s have, Mr. Dealer. It’s very difficult to procure, and even more difficult to store.”
The pony’s expression fell as I informed him of this. His shoulders sagged, his ears drooped and his smile withered away. It was for moments like these that I lived for: where one’s hopes were dashed…
“So it really is impossible,” he said glumly, the defeat in his voice sweet as honey to my ears.
… only to see that hope reignited a moment later.
I shot him a sly - nay, a devilish grin.
“Well, I never said that. I just said it wasn’t something most apothecary’s had. Please, if you would simply wait a moment I shall be with you again shortly.”
I do so love playing with mortal emotions. They are so very volatile.
Mr. Double Dealer’s face lit up like a winter bonfire, true happiness in full bloom. It was delightful to see.
I made a show of searching through my admittedly labyrinthine inventory of stock, before at crying out in faux-victory and drawing out a heavy case from a padlocked cupboard. I dragged it back to my shop's reception counter and hefted it up.
Mr. Double Dealer was practically prancing in place as I carefully unlocked and opened the case and extracted a smallish glass phial filled with small, greenish crystals along with a small scale that I used for these exact circumstances. I spoke as I set about the task of measuring out the appropriate amount.
“Now, the important thing to bear in mind when deal with abyssal sea salts is that they cannot be exposed to daylight for very long,” I informed him casually. “The essence of the abyss is extremely reactive to natural light, and can dissipate in as little as fifteen seconds if precautions are not taken to retain their potency. The process can be slowed by diluting the salts in a liquid, but I caution you that imbibing the liquid essence of the Abyss can induce drowsiness, slurred speech, lack of coordination-”
“I know it will get a pony drunk, Art,” Mr. Double Dealer snickered.
I frowned at the interruption, and decided to skip right to the important parts.
“... it can also cause visual and auditory hallucinations, extreme fatigue lasting three to four days, premature greying of the mane, bleeding from the eyes, chronic headaches and-” I paused as I finished measuring out the salt, poured it into a sachet and then continued. “And it will also get you drunk, when imbibed in excess. Although I caution you, if you intend to use it for that purpose, bear in mind that less is more.”
A tense silence ensued my dire warning, a silence in which I could almost hear Double Dealer’s eyes widening and his rear quarters clench.
“Is it really that bad?” he asked as if he feared the answer.
I flashed a smile that was both friendly and full of teeth.
“Take care when you drink the waters of the Abyss, Double Dealer, lest you find you’ve let in more than you expected,” I proffered the sachet. “That'll be twenty bits.”
Double Dealer stared at the small packet as if he expected it to take fire.
“Is it any safer when it’s not in water?” he asked cautiously, suddenly a great deal less enthusiastic about his purchase.
“Almost completely safe, actually,” I said with a sage nod. “It's been known to cause ponies to burp fire, though I've never personally observed the phenomenon.”
“Bwuh?” Double Dealer’s eyes boggled. “But-! How?! Why?!”
“Such are the mysteries of alchemy, sir,” I informed him with a grin. “If everypony could do it, I'd be out of a job.”
Double Dealer stared hard at me for a long time, his eyes belying the disbelief at what he was hearing. Then his gaze drifted down to the sachet I was offering. Eventually he seemed to come to a decision.
“Twenty bits, right?”
My smile widened.
“Indeed, sir.”
Double Dealer retrieved a small purse from his saddlebags and counted out the appropriate amount. His horn lit up as he levitated it over to me, and then grinned.
“Y’know, you're alright for such a weird-looking stallion, Art Axis. Your shop really is the best in the city.”
I raised an eyebrow and frowned at him. I was not offended, as he had spoken neither insult nor untruth, but he was one of the few ponies who spoke the truth in such a naked manner. Because my shop was indeed the best in the city, and I was also a weird-looking stallion by most standards. There is only so much I can do to hide my true nature, and attempting to exceed those boundaries rarely ended well for anyone involved. My plain, russet-brown coat and black mane served as drab counterpoints to my unusual aspects: membranous wings, a goat’s eyes, sharp teeth, forked tongue and cloven hooves at my hind legs.
I was very happy with my guise. While obviously inequine, I was not so strange that I could not pass as a mere freak of nature, or a terribly warning against the reckless use of magic rather than what I truly was. A wonderful mix of infamy and obscurity.
Mr. Dealer seemed realize what he’d just said and, with a stammered apology and another raised eyebrow from me, he rushed out of my shop and slammed the door behind him
And then I was the only person in my shop.
Such is the nature of most my relationships with ponykind. Not much different from that which I shared with others as a proper devil, but a great deal more amicable. And, of course, a great deal less labour intensive on my end. A bit of abyssal sea salt? Foal’s play. Nether shrooms? I could have them shipped out within a day. Powdered fire ruby? I only needed some time to find my mortar and pestle. The logistics of mercantile enterprise came easily to me, and the sedate, methodical search for knowledge as an alchemist greatly appealed to me.
I prided myself that Art Axis Alchemicals had everything a pony could ask for, and I drew great satisfaction in justifying that pride. The money that came with it was just a way of keeping score.
Speaking of which…
I kicked at the metal wheel of my safe, the practiced motion and just a little bit of a devil’s own luck unlocking the mechanism where a score of locksmiths had thrown up their hooves in defeat. With the safe now unlocked I bent down to deliver Mr. Double Dealer’s contribution to my already generous supply of mortal monetary means. I didn’t need the money, but it was a way of keeping score with my mortal competitors.
The bell of my shop’s front door rang out, signalling that I had a customer. I poked my head above the front desk to see if it was one of my regular customers.
I was somewhat disconcerted to see that it was a lunar guard. Who was holding the door open. For Princess Luna.
Nothing good could come of this.
I smiled brightly all the same, because it was always best to meet adversity with a smile.
“Princess Luna!” I greeted warmly as I brought myself back to my hooves. “What an unexpected surprise!”
I kicked my safe closed once more, savouring the dull ka-chunk and rapid clicking sounds of the lock’s mechanisms sliding into place. While I doubted the princess was motivated by something as crass as greed, I preferred to remove temptation from all equations.
“What can I do for you this evening?”
The princess of the night was not impressed by my attempt at good humour, and wasted no time in returning the sentiment.
“Close the door and await Our return. Bar all entry until our conversation is done,” she ordered with all the imperious command that a princess could bring to bear.
The guard grunted affirmation and did as they were bade.
Luna turned to me and glowered.
“Abraxas,” she said with all the warmth of a glacier. Fire surged up and down my spine at the sound of my name, both figuratively and literally. My mane had a bad habit of exploding into noxious green flames when I was sufficiently angry. “I have come to bargain with you.”
I stared at her, in both fury and incredulity. Nevertheless, I gave her the opportunity to redeem herself. I am a firm believer in second chances, after all.
“Well,” I said mildly with a thin smile. “I have a fresh batch of liquid starshine, I only brewed it last night. It creates the most wonderful glow-”
“We did not come to barter for trinkets, demon. We require power, the likes of which only you can provide.”
I snarled at her, and smashed a hoof against the countertop. Flames erupted from where I struck.
“We had a bargain, Princess! I am forbidden from dealing in such matters!”
Luna smirked smugly at me, and drew closer.
“We release you for your pledge, devil,” she said reassuringly. Confidently. Knowingly.
I hated everything about her in that moment, and it was all I could to restrain myself from leaping across the shop and tearing her throat out with my teeth.
Instead, I closed my eyes. I breathed in deeply through my nose and counted to ten. I exhaled slowly through my mouth. Then I opened my eyes, and knew without a doubt that I would damn her for her trespass.
The princess reeked of pride and envy, that most potent and dangerous of cocktails. Creatures under its influence hardly need any help in destroying their own lives, but to my secret shame I felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of adding my own infernal touch to her torment. And what’s more, I couldn’t find it in myself to resist this temptation.
Because in her I saw something entirely too familiar. It was like looking into a fun-house mirror, both similar and completely different. And what do we hate more in others than what we see in ourselves?
A plan formed in my thoughts, intricate and terrible. From her seed of envy I would reap the suffering of thousands.
I smiled at her in the same way that sharks do: with sharp teeth and hunger.
“Power, hmm?” I oozed smugness at her. I leaned over the counter of my shop, and leered at her. “And why would a princess come to me for power? You know the price my kind typically demands. Are you so desperate?”
Princess Luna scoffs, and smiled slyly.
“We know you, devil,” she said haughtily. “You have served our ponies well, containing many evils within your kingdom. Even now, you help and heal those of our subjects that dare to trust you,” her smile turned smug. “You would not take my soul even were I to offer it to you. You are a good pony, Abraxas.”
I stared at her for a long moment, and if I had felt an ounce of doubt in my plan it vanished then. I was determined to make her torment the stuff of legends.
I allowed myself a brief chortle at the thought.
“You’re right, of course,” I assured her. “But all the same, the power I can offer you has a price. And it is steep, princess. Too steep, perhaps.”
“Name it,” there was no hesitation, only fierce and unrelenting determination.
“Tell me of what you wish to accomplish, first,” I asked. “I can be of much more use to you if know how to help you.”
I didn’t really need her to tell me anything. I knew exactly what she wanted. I just wanted her to speak it aloud, to give a name to that which she hoped to overcome. I wanted her thoughts firmly on her goal, not on the means I would provide.
“My subjects love me not,” Luna admitted plaintively. “They are blind to the wonders of my night, they do not beseech me for my boons, and my sister- it matters not. I require power that I may show that my night is equal to the day.”
Outwardly, I winced in sympathy. But within the privacy of my own thoughts I was laughing. It's a tale as old as time: one sibling covers what the other has. And so the blood flows.
“Yes, I can see why you would want my help,” I said gravely. I frowned impeccably at her, merely for the theatrics. “However, now that I know what you desire I believe I see a solution, one that will pay for itself. The price will still be great, mind you, but it is one that I believe you should have little difficulty in bearing.”
Luna narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but drew closer to me. We were nearly face to face now.
“What do you have in mind?”
“As I see it, you do not require power. Not power such as I can grant, at least. The crux of the issue lies within you.”
“Speak plainly, devil,” Luna demanded, though more in eagerness than any real wrath. “If I had the means to gain the love of my subjects then why I need your help?”
I had her by the curiosity, now. I was leaning hard on both her pride and envy, and she was letting me. She wanted to believe that nothing was wrong with her - and she would be right, if only she weren't trying to strike a bargain with me. I would use those to ensnare her fully, but curiosity was always the first step.
I smiled winningly at her.
“You must forgive me for my impertinence when I say this, princess, but while you do not for means I do believe you lack the will. Or perhaps the vision. I can remedy this, and it would not cost you anything beyond what you are already giving up.”
“And what is that?”
“Your dreams,” I smiled as her eyes widened with surprise, and pressed on while she was still confused. “I realize it is a bitter pill to swallow, Princess, but I assure you that the easiest path for you to gain the love of your subjects is to give up your dreams. Not your hopes or aspirations, mind you, but your actual dreams.”
Luna didn't speak for a moment, still processing what I had told her. The moment did not last, and she shook her head powerfully when it ended.
“What you ask is too great, demon.”
And now I exuded an air of pity at her.
“Yes, I understand that mortals often attribute great value to dreams. It is not easy for your kind to give up such things.”
Condescension is such a useful tool. With a twist of words it can inspire pride, wrath or spite. In Luna, I could see all three mix into a terrible and potent brew. Her pride refused to let her be “just another mortal”. Her wrath at the perceived insult refused to let her accept the situation. And her spite drove her to prove me wrong.
“Explain how my dreams are holding me back, demon.”
I smiled at her, full of teeth.
There was no saving her now. I was only an explanation away, and I was good at explaining things to mortals in such a way that they never saw the damnation right in front of them. Luna would be no different. My hooks were deep inside her, and she was drawing herself in without a care for what I would do with her trust.
After all, she was asking about her dreams.
She'd said nothing about her nightmares.
It was almost a year before the second part of my vengeance against Luna fell into place.
Much as her sister had, Princess Celestia came calling with guards in tow. Unlike her sister, Celestia carried an unspeakable sorrow in her bearing. That her subjects were blind to her distress only worsened it.
"Thank you for escorting me here, my little ponies," she said to her guards warmly. "But the words I must share with this pony must be had in private."
Her guards gave me an uncertain, calculating glance. I grinned back at them, making sure to let them see my fangs. Predictably, this did not reassure them.
"Are you certain about this, your highness?" the one in charge asked, not taking his eyes off of me. "He seems an unsavoury sort."
"Art Axis and I are old acquaintances, my little pony," she reassured him. "I will be perfectly safe with him."
"Very well," the reluctance in the guard's voice was plain for all to hear, but nobody of import cared. "Then we shall await your return outside."
"Thank you, my little ponies," Celestia said, her voice kind, warm and a complete fabrication.
The instant her guards left my shop her composure slipped. Gone was the proud new monarch, and there was the mourning sister.
“Art Axis,” she said quietly, her voice faltering. “I need your help.”
I acted surprised to see her sudden change in demeanouf, even as I felt a savage glee at what I had done. Both to her, and her sister. It would take hundreds of years for my revenge to come full circle, but time means nothing to me. I could wait for the moment they both realized what I had done. I could wait for the sorrow and pain to kill them both slowly, like poison.
I could wait for them both to come before me and beg for forgiveness.
But I wouldn't let it be said that I didn't give Celestia a chance to save herself that pain. I was trying to be better than my kin, after all.
“I’m afraid can't help you, princess,” I told her gently. “We have a bargain, if you would recall. I pledged that so long as I resided in your lands I would not deal in such matters. You and your sister were very firm on that, if you recall.”
I made it easy for her. I reminded her of our compact, I reminded her of what I was. I told her of an easy way to circumvent my pledge while still keeping it in place.
It should have been easy to resist temptation.
“We can talk, though,” I offered. “I will always make time for you, whether you want tea or someone to talk to. It may not seem like much, your highness, but I find mortals can draw much strength from such gestures.”
Celestia seemed only to collapse of further at my words.
“I want my sister back,” she said in a tiny voice. She let out a shuddering breath, and then summoned up a renewed strength and conviction. She straightened out, standing tall and resolute. “Prince Abraxas of Tartarus, I release you from your pledge to me. Please, help me save my sister.”
It's easy to resist temptation. You just have to want to.
I didn’t show any of the crushing, terrible disappointment I felt in her. The wan smile she saw was every ounce as sympathetic as she wanted it to be, but every bit as fictitious as the facade she presented to her subjects.
“I am honoured by the trust you've shown me, princess,” the lie slips as easily from my mouth as easily now as it ever would have when I sat upon my throne in Hell.
But if Celestia wanted me to act like a devil I would oblige her.
Making her suffer would be easy: Luna had already done all the hard work. All I had to do now was twist the knife.
“Tell me how you think I can help you."