The blizzard howled around the fur-swathed figure as it stood before the broken stump of a tower that was almost lost in the flying snow, despite being barely two yards away. Trudging through the drifts, the figure slowly crossed the ruin, occasionally stumbling on buried bits of ancient masonry, to crouch beside a staircase that curved up the remnants of the wall. Carefully running its fingers over the stonework, the figure smiled in its hood when an ancient glyph hidden under one of the stairs, worn away to almost nothing, glowed purple for a moment, as a muffled “thump” sounded from the snow-covered floor.
When nothing further happened, the figure stood up, throwing back its hood and revealing a black-coated, red-maned, unicorn stallion, to frown at the floor and wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, he threw up his hands in exasperation, “To Tartarus with this!” his horn glowed purple as a blast of arcane fire instantly reduced the heaped snow to steam. A moment later, one of the stone slabs making up the floor dropped down and moved to the side to reveal another staircase. With a satisfied smirk, he pulled a glowstone lantern out of his pack and started down, ‘Heh, let Daring Do and Ahuizotl squabble with each other and wander about in far-off jungles and deserts, there are plenty of ancient artifacts to be found out here in Equestria’s half-forgotten borderlands if you’re willing to look, and aren’t particularly fussy about how you get your information. Especially in these northern marches, what with the remnants of the lost Crystal Empire and the near-mythical Normane clans to plunder.’
Three steps down the stairway, he stopped and slapped his forehead in disgust, “Idiot,” the stallion muttered as he dug an oddly cut gem out of his coat and held it to his right eye, immediately, a stair three steps down began to glow to his vision. Backing up a few steps, ‘Better safe than sorry,’ the unicorn telekinetically pressed on the stair, triggering the beartrap concealed beneath it. After smashing the trap with his telekinesis, he continued on, stopping to deal with two other traps (a pair of spikes designed to impale the victim’s legs, and another pair of spikes angled to run the victim through the chest) as he descended deeper into the earth, ‘These traps are mechanical! How in Tartarus are they still working?’ he wondered as a door, flanked by a pair of everburning torches, finally came into view. “It’s about time,” the unicorn grumbled to himself, “Whoa there, Donut, old colt, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Fiery Glass was paranoid enough to trap the stairs to his own hidden study, let’s give this another look, just to be sure.” As he had suspected, a cautious examination through his enchanted gem revealed a tracery of magic overlaying the door.
Donut continued to scrutinize the spell-trap, slowly picking out its design, before nodding to himself, “You were an archmagi in your day, Glass, but that was fifteen hundred years ago, and for all their power, which is impressive by the way, your wards are no match for modern Abjuration theory.” His aura flared as Donut carefully dismantled the wards bound into the door, and then the magic wrapped around the handle to open the door while the unicorn cautiously remained at a distance. When nothing happened, he stepped up to the doorway and raised the gem to his eye again as he looked around the study, “Hmm … additional wards on that amulet and that tome over there, but nothing else …,” Donut smirked as he looked at the shelves laden with ancient books and magical talismans, ‘Magical lore and theory that hasn’t been seen in over a thousand years, secrets that have been banned since Discord fell.’ “And it’s all mine.”
A fire crackled in the hearth of Donut’s own basement study as he looked over his new acquisitions. Smuggling everything from Fiery Glass’s tower back to Canterlot had been slow, tedious work, but well worth the effort now that the old warlock’s research was where it belonged, in his hands. Pride of place went to an amulet, the Jewel of Hekate, and a heavy tome, Quod Tantum Regno.
The Quod Tantum Regno contained all of Fiery Glass’s research into demonology and necromancy, including information on several demons Donut had never even heard of (Dretches? Hezrou? Whatever they were, they could be summoned in groups, the potential was simply wondrous), as well as the natures of Tartarus and the Elemental Planes, and even several summoning rituals, along with some entertainingly implausible theories about alternate realities (A world where everypony was a counterpart to this reality, but they were all small quadrupeds? Starswirl the Bearded created a magic mirror that was a portal to other Realms? Preposterous.). The book was a blessing for any aspiring warlock, or it would be if Fiery hadn’t written half of it in Old Unicornian, forcing Donut to constantly stop and translate the old stallion’s scribbles.
As for the Jewel … that was a bit of a mystery. None of the unicorn’s research had turned up any mention of it, or of a “Hekate”, and the old warlock’s writings made no mention of where or when he had acquired the amulet, but they did explain its purpose; the Jewel greatly enhanced the strength of summoning and binding magics upon demons, elementals and the spirits of the dead, which made it the perfect complement to Quod Tantum Regno.
Now, after months of study, he was ready to start on his path to wealth (well, even more wealth) and, more importantly, power, the power he had always deserved. After all, was he not descended from the royal house of long gone Unicornia? Was he not destined, by birth and ability, to rule over the herds around him? And the next step to attaining that power was to summon and bind a demon to carry out his bidding and terrorize his enemies. He’d even selected his new servant from among the demons listed in Quod Tantum, although the information provided therein was disappointingly sparse; while the demon was not listed as a “Lord” or other Tartarean nobility, and Fiery hadn’t seen fit to include the demon’s type, a title, any notable powers, or even an illustration, the creature was powerful enough to require a blood sacrifice to call, and the old warlock had specifically included a warning to not attempt the summoning without the Jewel of Hekate, which hinted tantalizingly at the demon’s might. The book did, however, include the demon’s True Name (although it looked like somepony had tried, and failed, to burn that particular piece of information off of the page), which meant he had a formidable, but not “top rank”, demon that would be bound to obey his every command once summoned. As for the blood sacrifice … despite the Princesses’ efforts even Canterlot, the capital of the Empire, still had slums, and there were still desperate or homeless ponies whose disappearance would attract little attention.
Candles flickered in the grim stone chamber as Donut stood outside the warding circle he had painstakingly etched onto the floor, one bloodstained hand clutching the Quod Tantum, as he raised the other and began chanting, “Arruya Silussadaughavas, across the dark gulfs betwixt the realms, hear my call and obey! The door is open, the gates unbarred. I Summon Thee! As my will compels thee, the blood of the innocent binds thee to this world, Arruya, thee must do my bidding until thy art released! I Summon Thee, Arruya Silussadaughavas, I Summon Thee, I Summon Thee!”
The candles flared in a sudden, inexplicable wind, and their flames bent toward the circle as an oval of utter darkness materialized within the now glowing wards, then the very air seemed to twist, there was a faint “clang”, as if a distant iron gate had slammed open, and a figure was standing in the middle of the summoning circle.
It was bipedal, if not truly equine, and the warlock could tell that she was definitely female, despite the armor she was wearing, but she would never pass for a pony, what skin he could see was furless and ashen gray, her pointed ears were far to short for a pony’s, barely extending past her black mane, her scarred face was practically flat, with only a small bump of a nose, while her eyes glowed an eerie green, eyes that narrowed for a moment as they fell upon the body of the vagrant foal that lay chained to the gore-splattered sacrificial altar.
‘Just what exactly have I summoned?’ Donut wondered as he looked over his new servant; the heavy sword and armor, ‘Is that … dragonhide?’ clearly implied a war demon of some kind, but the exotic allure of the demoness’ muzzleless face and her very intriguing figure evoked another, far more lascivious, type of demon entirely.
“Vhat in Abyss are you?”
The unicorn glared at the presumptuous demoness in dumbfounded affront for a moment, “I am your Master, Donut Steel,” he finally snapped.
“Your name is Do Not Steal? Really?”
“Donut Steel!”
“That’s vhat I said!”
“Enough of your impertinence!” Donut bellowed, clasping the Jewel of Hekate in his free hand, “I am your Master, Arruya Silussadaughavas, and you will show me the respect I am due!” he smirked as the demoness flinched at the sound of her Name, “That’s better, now, kneel,” the warlock’s leer widened as she dropped to her knees with a fang-baring snarl, “Good, now that we’ve dispelled any doubts about who is in charge … hmm … yes. The original copy of the Discordian Scrolls is supposed to be stored in the restricted section of the Palace library, fetching them for me should be an adequate test of your abilities.”
Donut frowned as the demoness simply continued to kneel in the warding circle, “Well? What are you waiting for?”
“Vait, you really expect me to teleport from a location I don’t know to place I only just heard about?” she quirked an eyebrow disdainfully, “I don’t know about how Teleport vorks for you, but it doesn’t vork like that for me. Of course,” she added as Donut's face darkened in anger, “You could give me directions, or a map, and I could just valk there, vith few lower tier spells to keep anyone from noticing me, and then I vill be able to Teleport back to you.”
“Using a Background Pony charm to mask yourself among the ignorant herds, eh?” Donut mused as he stroked his chin, “If simply teleporting yourself to the archives is beyond your abilities, I guess your suggestion has some merit. Wait here,” the unicorn went next door to his study and quickly drew up a map from his manor to the Palace, a second to the Restricted Archives, and, as an afterthought, a map showing the way from the Summoning Chamber to his front door, ‘I don’t want that demon wandering about my estate unsupervised, after all, the servants would be sure to talk if they caught sight of it,’ he thought as he headed back, “Get up,” he grumbled at the still kneeling demon, “Here, these maps will get you to the Restricted Archives, do not deviate from them more than necessary, and try not to draw any attention to yourself.”
“And how am I to recognize these ‘Discordian Scrolls’ once I am inside?”
“They’re scrolls!” Donut snapped in frustration, “Graying parchment, blue-black ink, bound with a purple ribbon marked with an orange, eight-pointed star! By Grogar, do I have to explain everything to you?!”
The demoness was unmoved by her summoner’s outburst, “If I could merely snap my fingers and have vhatever I desired, regardless of how little information I might have, then I vould be a god not a demon,” she pointed out.
Turning away with a “harrumph”, Donut waved an irritated hand over at the pitiful corpse on the stone slab, “And dispose of that while you’re at it!”