He had followed a trail of forgotten glyphs, runes only visible when lit by the faint glow of his shackles. The symbols are very old, the Voice had called them pre-Abyssal, and their language is the one lost even to most demons. But not to the being they were about to meet.
Aelric halted before and arched gate of fused soul glass and living roots, blackened and writhing as if in pain.
Beyond it, the chamber pulsed with ambient energy, a quiet thrum that pressed against his ears and cooled down his spine.
The glyphs here were different; they are older, jagged, and carved into the stone like wounds rather than inscriptions.
"This is it," said Veyra. She stepped past him, her chains clunking softly. "The prison of the pactkeeper."
Aelric studied her carefully. Her eyes held something unfamiliar. Was it fear? Reverence? Guilty?
[The pactkeeper.] The Voice spoke, its voice quieter than usual, [is a singular entity. It is not merely a demon. But a being forged from promises broken and fulfilled, from compacts that reshaped the history of this realm. Its tongue bad topped empirs and bound sovereigs to damnation.]
The gate creaked open on its own. There was a key; no force was used. Nor was there wind.
The chamber beyond was vast and circular, its center sunken into a shallow pit lined with concentric rings of faded sigils.
Pillars rose like skeletal fingers around the edges, and at of it all, a figure lay in chains that weren't of iron, but of words.
Thousands of floating contracts, scrolls, blood-bound parchments, and glowing pacts shimmered in the air, forming an ethereal prison.
They coiled around the demon at the center, a tall, slender figure whose form shimmered between genders and appearances.
One moment, a horned man in noble robes, the next a six-armed woman made of asb and fire. And in the next breath, something neither human nor demon, just a power to shape into anything.
"Ah," the pactkeeper said, its voice like a caress of silk over shattered glass. "The child of the chains arrived at last. So young, so loud with full of doubts. You wear sorrow like a cloak."
Aelric felt the pressure immediately, not a sense of fear, but something different. This thing was ancient in the way oceans were ancient. And dangerous in a way that doesn't need any weapon.
"You are the pactkeeper?" Aelric asked, fists tightening. "The one who helped destroy this city?"
"Helped?" The demon gives a low, mirthless laugh. "No, little inheritor, you misunderstood. I offered them exactly what they wanted. Power beyond comprehension. A throne atop the Abyss. They sealed their doom with delight. All I did was fulfill the contract."
Veyra stepped closer to the edge of the sigil ringed pit, her voice neutral. "You were the city's greatest secret. Their final bargain. The knowledge you hold could have changed everything."
[And it could unravel you.] The voice interrupts, more forceful than usual. [Aelric, do not listen. This creature is not bound by any morality or loyalty. Its knowledge is a poison delivered with honey.]
The pactkeeper's gaze shifted towards Aelric again. "What is knowledge, if not a blade? If it is used widely, it cleaves truth from delusion. Used poorly, it severs the soul."
Aelric stood silent. Thinking of what Pactkeeper said.
"What do you want?" He asked finally.
'Freedkm," the pactkeeper answered, smiling with too many teeth. "Not just release, but freedom. My prison is bound to many conditions. If you accept a lacy, you can shift the terms. You will not destroy the prison, only redefine it. In return, I will give you the memories I once harvested, the last days of Draz Kurhaal, the secrets of its rulers' fall. You will see what even your lovely little voice cannot explain."
Aelric turned to Veyra. "Why are you so eager for me to make this deal?"
She didn't answer at first. Then "Because I was here, Aelric. When it all I watched them go mad, one by one. The rulers of this place tore themselves apart trying to bargain, started it and ended it. If you want to know what you are becoming, you need to see what they became. I told you I would give you my knowledge; think of it as a part of my knowledge. To help you understand."
He looked between the two of them, the bound demon and the wandering liar. And then to the chains coiled around his arms. They pulsed faintly.
The Voice growled in protest. [There will be consequences. Whatever is revealed cannot be forgotten. Power like this always has a price.]
Aelric stepped into the ring. The floating contracts shivered. The pactkeeper's smile deepened.
"I accept the pact," Aelric said. "But you stay bound to me. I hold your chains now."
The room shook briefly. The contracts spelled inward, not vanishing, but twisting, reweaving themselves into threads of light that slithered down Aelric's arms like ribbons of fire.
The pactkeeper gasped, whether in pleasure or pain, Aelric couldn't tell. Then came the memories.
Visions struck like thunderclaps, fragmented, jagged scenes of glory and horror.
A hall of flame and gold, where demon lords feasted together on dreams and secrets.
A council of rulers, their faces regal, their minds spli yetinb, whispering to shadows that answered in forgotten tongues.
A ritual beneath a weeping star, a pact signed not in blood, but in souls
The pactkeeper smiled as the city's foundations cracked.
A child's scream echoes through a throne room of bone.
When the visions ended, Aelric was on his knees, panting, eyes wide with tears of memory that weren't his.
"You saw it," whispered the pactkeeper, still bound. "Their hunger. Their terror. Their fall. And you are walking their path."
Aelric rose slowly. "No," he said. " I am not them."
The demon tilted its head. "Not yet, but soon will."
Veyra knelt beside him, touching his shoulder. Her face was pale, her voice soft. "You made the right choice. You will need what you saw. Even if it hurts."