As the world’s magical sophistication grew, an interesting detail came to light.
Well, as Twilight would insist, many interesting details came to light, often leading to even more interesting tidbits of knowledge as the science of thaumology marched on. But one proved especially relevant to Sunset. As the incarnate spirit of the universe—or, as some insisted on calling it, a god—she was connected to virtually all concepts at a deep, fundamental level.
The practical meaning of that was that just about any kind of summoning ritual could call up a bit of her essence, and often would if it missed its intended target. Usually that just meant a brief flash of gold and rainbows, a minuscule fraction of the fundamental magic of the universe without a mind to shape it. Thankfully, Harmony magic didn’t have much potential for collateral damage, and the less scrupulous summoners soon found themselves developing scruples with enough botched spells.
But sometimes, the nature of the spell and intent behind it were enough that Sunset took some time to give the summoner some personal attention.
“So,” she said within the crimson-glowing, pentagram-inscribed circle, arms crossed and tattered bat wings twitching. She didn’t like taking her demon form, but the circumstances of the summoning had incarnated her in it, and it helped illustrate her point. “Let’s review. You tried to tear open a portal to Tartarus because of a literal dream where you… What was it again?” She knew, but she didn’t want to believe it.
The would-be demonologist, a burly minotaur aspect named Bold Brass, may have blushed. Both his red skin and the light of the summoning circle made it hard to tell, just as his sunglasses made it hard to tell if he could bear to make eye contact with Sunset. “Get a harem of cute demon girls,” he muttered.
“Get. A harem. Of cute demon girls.” Sunset rubbed the bridge of her nose. The claws made that tricky, as did having more of a snout, but she made it work. “And rather than a more traditional offering of, say, a black cockerel, you tried to do it with a plate of chocolate crepes.”
Bold straightened up and crossed his arms, the seams of his white suit almost audibly straining. “I make very good chocolate crepes.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow, willed up one of the filled pancakes, and took a bite. The other eyebrow soon followed. “Okay, those are admittedly very good.”
“Sinfully so, one might say,” Bold said with a grin.
“Don’t push it, buddy.” Sunset took a deep breath. “Look, I still haven’t determined if this world even has a Tartarus. The closest things to demons I’ve found are angst monsters and myself. I’m already taken and I don’t think the abominations of crystallized negative energy are your type. Have you considered looking for a girlfriend somewhere other than the pits of the damned?”
“Well…” Bold brought a hand to his chin, gaze tilting up in thought. “It wasn’t as appealing, but…”
“Yes?”
“I suppose Elysium is an option.”
Sunset waited for a few moments, just to see if he was messing with her. The utter sincerity never left Bold’s expression. She sighed and, moments before severing the summoning conduit, spat out, “Yeah, good luck with that.”