The Gilded Gaze

It briefly perked up. "Oh! But where are my manners? I believe introductions are in order!"

The being bowed its head, hood pulling inward as it closed its eyes. Its body drooped behind it; the equivalent of a

bow.

"I, am Ssalka. The Serpent of Secretsssss."

Floria took a breath, licking her dry lips to speak up. "And I'm-"

"Floria Alwinday," he finished with a wink. "Floria Mindall Alldottin Alwinday. Such a beautiful name."

She paused. "How do you-"

"Serpent of Secrets. A mortal's name is such a...simple thing to learn. It's....quaint."

A twinge of relief rose within her. She wasn't dead yet. "Okay," she intoned. "So, your got your book. For whatever reason you wanted it for."

"And for that, I thank you."

"And now, comes your part of the deal."

"Hmmmm?"

She planted a foot forward. "I'm a librarian at this...well, library. Deputy Librarian. Assistant Deputy Librarian."

"Temporary assistant deputy librarian," Ssalka added with a smirk.

"Yeah. And I feel like I've pored over every single book in this place. Trying to piece together magical theory so the Ninth Circle of Mages-"

"-will see something novel in your theories, and accept you into their numbers."

She pouted. "You know that ahead of time too?"

"No," he beamed. "That I simply...reasoned."

"Uh-huh. Look. I need real, genuine magical knowledge. Something nobody knows, something nobody's ever seen before, ever thought of, or ever will. I need secrets, Great Ssalka. The greatest secrets of magic that our pact will allow. I ask, Great Ssalka. But if you refuse..."

She raised her hand. The portal around crackled with energy, sparking dancing across the glyphs. Ssalka simply turned his head, watching the fireworks.

"...I will demand."

The serpent made a hum of amusement, turning his torso towards the summoning circle. He leaned inward, inspecting with a keen gaze.

"Ah," he intoned. "A most fine summoning circle you've constructed." He raised a claw, guiding it flat-palmed towards one of the runes etched into the walls. "Most, most excellent."

His gaze traveling around the entire apparatus, his smile growing every new sight. "Redundant rings. Extra seals. And is that a Ward of Cold Binding I see? Clever. Most clever."

"I didn't exactly know what I was summoning," she replied. "Had to cover all my bases."

He looked back at her. "I suppose I can't blame you. You've certainly gone the extra distance."

His friendliness worried her. Summons were usually polite, but one could always detect underneath the barb of contempt. Contempt and hatred of being bound and stolen, forced to do the bidding of a lesser thing. And always, always, they would treat the circle with outright disgust. Some snide remark or spit of spite. And yet here...

No. He was playing at something, and she wasn't having it.

"They're there in case you try something funny," she explained. "And remember, you answered. You didn't have to. One flick of my wrist and you go flying back from wherever you came, and it won't be pleasant."

He placed his arms behind his back. "I imagine it wouldn't. So, Floria Alwinday. What is it, exactly, you wish to know?"

"Like I said. Secrets. Secrets of magic. Something that can get me into the 9th Circle."

He leaned forward, enunciating every word. "And tell me. What do you intend then?"

"To become a real mage. Like the ones in the books. A legend. You know. Important."

"Interesting. And what will you do if our meeting produces...lackluster results?"

She raised and, threatening him with a glowing pulse. "That's not happening, Ssalka. One way or the other, I'm learning something tonight."

With another friendly smile, he turned one side of his head toward her. Looking at her with one eye. "In that case? I suppose I have only one answer."

"Yeah?" she answered, leaning forward.

"No."

She paused. "What."

"No," he said again, taunting her with a smug smirk.

Her arms fell flat against her sides. Inaction seized her, the unexpected answer leaving her dumbstruck.

Shock turned to outrage. To furious, rising indignation.

Floria raised both her hands, making a full display of her power with a waving blue aura around her. "For someone so smart, you got a short memory. One whisper, and I banish you with the pain of the Seal of Sorrows!"

His eyes went wide in horror. He slid backward, long body undulating into the light of the portal until only his torso remained. He clasped his ringers claws together, shaking them at her as he bowed his head.

"Oh, my lady!" he pleaded. "Please, please forgive me! You simply didn't understand!"

"Understand?!" she growled. "What's there to understand?! You're the summons, I'm the summoner! You will do what I tell you!"

"Please, my lady!" he begged. "It's a matter of knowing!"

His begging motion slowed. Stopped. He went still as a statue, head pointed to the floor. "And you have no idea who I am."

The aura around her faded in guarded inquiry. "Huh?"

He raised his head. Only now, he wasn't afraid. His expression of terror was gone like a discarded mask, and he was smiling once again. A plotting, evil smile.

One of his arms snapped out to the edge of the portal's seals, his claws dragging into the concrete in grinding crunches.

His smile turned vicious.

"I am Ssalka. And you have no power over me."

In an instant his claw ripped across the seal, dragging glowing marks in their wake. Shredding across the neat, tidy glyphs and runes of the circle, marring their visages with magical wounds.

Floria's blood turned to arctic ice. She tried to yell out in terror, but the fear only made it come out as a pathetic wheeze.

Ssalka clawed the other end of the portal. His marks tore away the bindings like paper, then placed his claws behind his back. Waiting, as the entire thing came unbound. Glowing marks flying apart in wispy clouds, circles losing their perfect roundness. The wax seals on the wall melted, red streaks falling down the walls like tears of thick, oozing blood.

"Oh," Floria muttered. "Oh gods."

The summoning circle churned as a dying machine now. The Seal of Sorrows vanished, the Seal of Obedience following it into oblivion. Then the seal of Banishment, then the secondary circles around them.

In mere moments all that was left was the simplest component of the spell. The most basic of foundations. The Seal of Summoning. What kept a summons from harming its summoner.

She watched in paralyzed terror as it shattered. Literally shattered. Glyphs and symbols flew forward past her gawping, terrified face. They tumbled into the back end of the room, flickering out of reality.

The portal's smooth, white light churned in agony. Widened, grew in radiance as the one called Ssalka emerged fully from it. Winding outward, his long, coiling tail like a giant's rope. Moving, slithering, intruding until the last, gold-tipped bit of his tail fell out from the portal, revealing his full glory.

He rose, the lower half of his tail coiled up as high as her chest. As long as five men were high, his serpentine body screaming sleek strength. His eyes gleaming, and tongue now flickering wildly with anticipation.

He was free.

Unbound.

And there was nothing that could stop him now.

Her body shut down, legs giving up first. She sank to her knees, her face white with fear.

"I-" she gasped. "I-you-that-"

Unbound. Unrestrained. The being could do anything to her now. It was one thing for a summons to kill their summoner, another for them to break free. In those cases, even prayer wouldn't help. A mage didn't lose their life.

They lost their souls.

No bargain she could offer now, no bribe to placate the great serpent. Nothing to stop him as he slithered forward, approaching her like any snake with its envenomed victim.

Nothing to do now. No hope. No nothing.

In her moment of desperation, she did the only thing she could.

Begged.

"P-please," she whimpered in a hoarse whisper. "Please don't hurt me."

Ssalka remained quiet, continuing his gradual advance.

"Please..." she urged, holding out a useless, shaking hand.

He was right in front of her now. Staring down at her, at her outstretched hand and the stench of horror that wrapped her tight. Studied her, with a serious frown like nothing like his former friendly persona.

"Hurt you...?" he intoned.

"Please..."

He reached out his claw, grabbing her hand with his. It was warm. He angled it, the back of her hand facing up. "Tell me. Why in the world? Why in all of creation and everything that has ever exissssssssted, or ever will.."

He craned his head down, closing his eyes. Guiding his head, his lips, towards the back of her hand. Moving slowly, carefully, until his lips met her flesh.

A gentle kiss played across her skin. A tiny, playful peck.

She could only stay still as he looked upward, locking eyes with her. He finished his words, now with a smile of soothing warmth.

"...Would I ever hurt a creature so lovely?"

The terror died. Melted away like the last snow, replaced by a warmth that spread from the site of the kiss, filling her body with a flattering heat that rose in her cheeks.

The last, tiny shred of horror pushed past her lips as a question. "W...what?"

He rose, still holding her hand. "A fine summoning circle," he complimented. "Such a clever mind to craft it. And even gods can't believe their luck sometimes! Someone as beautiful as they are clever."

"Wh-"

"But all the same, it's broken. Completely and utterly. And I could do anything to you right now. Rend your flesh, steal your soul, sending you screaming dead oblivion...all such terrible, terrible little thoughts. No. Think not of these things. They will not happen. I give my word."

She blinked. What was happening?

This was a trick. He was going to try to use her to get out into the library, or this was some kind of sick game of-

"You doubt me," he grinned. "Then doubt me no more."

He raised one hand. An aura of golden power enveloped it, and at that moment

Floria truly saw.

At that moment, she was on her knees, gazing at the true potential of what she'd called.

He was...brilliant.

Power as vast as the sky. A mind as deep as oceans. Knowledge to fill thousand Library of Circles, all kept in the palm of his claw. His aura shining like the angry setting sun, gleaming and yellow and brass-thought wrapped in divine metal.

She had never had him under his control.

"I swear," he began, "on my honor, that I will grant you safety, Floria Alwinday."

"You-" she blurted, the rest dying in her throat. "-mean that?"

The glow in his hand faded, and the window to his true potential with it. "An oath. And I will keep it."

A free summons giving an oath. That was...

She'd heard a myth about such a thing before, but-

"You're...you're really not going to hurt me?" she urged.

A small sorrow played on his brow. "Ah," he sighed. "I ssuppose I did give you a little sssscare." He bowed to her. "And for that, my deepest apologies. Old habits, you must understand."

"Okay."

He glanced up at her with a chuckle. "Not how you expected this to go, hm?

"Not...really."

Ssalka let go of her hand, slowly reeling back to his coil in front of the portal. What was left of it. All that remained now was a flat, circular slab of smooth concrete. He reeled in until his entire length was underneath him; his arms were folded, torso laying on his thick tail like a pillow as he smiled at her.

"There will be no bargain," he stated.

"But what about the-"

"The book?" he asked. He waved away her concern. "Yes, I suppose I will keep that. But only for safekeeping. You see, I only accept tokens that carry my name. That carry my name and the names of others. My name, and secrets."

She thought for a moment. "So that's it. You wanted something by someone that showed they did the work. That they not only knew your name, but the names of a bunch of other demons."

"Indeed."

"But...I didn't write the book."

He raised a clawed finger. "Ah, but you did summon me. Even the author never truly attempted it. And I think any lesser mage couldn't even dream of a summoning circle like the one you created."

"The one you broke."

He flicked his tongue.

"Fair point."

Floria's rational mind began to take control. She wasn't dead yet, and the serpent had yet to offer any contract written in blood. And the oath. That was unbreakable.

"Wait, what did you mean by 'no bargain' just now?"

He shrugged. "I mean, I will make no compact. No contract. Simply ask what you wish to know. I will provide it, and provide it freely."

An automatic double-take. "Come again?"

He grinned, holding up his arms. "If I have any weakness, it's to beauty. And so beautiful you are, Floria Alwinday. In more ways than you know."

His stoic flirtation sent a new wave of rising heat in her cheeks. She fought it down but could do nothing about the growing warmth in her chest. Nobody had ever talked to her like this.

"You sure know how to talk a girl," she tried to flirt back.

"I know a great many things."

"So that gets back to the crux. Why I summoned you here. I need-"

"You need knowledge. And I can provide."

"That is...correct."

Ssalka nodded his head. "Yes...yes, I will do this. What I know, I offer."

He went on, his voice growing distance as he stared up at the ceiling. "Such a curse, mortality. A clever mind wasted in its brevity. So many things a clever mind does not learn, simply by the bad luck of closed doors and closed minds."

Floria almost laughed. "You're kind of starting to sound like a philosopher."

He looked down at her. "Which ones? Most of them were quite boring, I found. Great knowledge, but dull minds. That combination does not interest me."

"But I do."

"This is true."

Alright, if the smart snake has a crush on me...might as well take advantage.

She took a fresh journal and pen from her desk, then made her way to the cushion in the center of the room. She flopped down on it, cracking open the journal to the first page. "In that case, guess we better get started. Write down as much as I can."

She grimaced. "As much as I can with the time we have..."

"Then by all means," Ssalka replied, "ask away. But do us both a favor, and do not write down my revelations. True knowledge is retained from within, not on paper."

She placed down the journal next to her. "Fair enough. So..."

"Just one more thing," he cut in with a smooth tone, "not a bargain. Not a deal. A...polite request. From one ssssscholar to another."

"Shoot?"

"I will reveal my secrets," he explained. "But I have so many, many secrets. So many things I know. So much of it I can't possibly share it in a single night, even with my power. I find you interesting, Floria Alwinday. I'd like to see you again."

Oh.

"Um...when?"

"Whenever you can spare the time."

"But...the book-"

"You'll need no such thing."

He pointed up to his eye, to the one coated in the golden tattoo. "My symbol. Simply draw it on the wall here and call my name. I will come. No crude summoning circles or rituals. I only ask that you call me again. Whenever you can spare the time. No more, no less."

His offer sounded too good to be true. It probably as. Already her Mage's Brain was coming up with theories as to what the serpent really wanted, or what kind of incomprehensible long game he was playing. Was she a pawn? Was this all just another part of the hunt?

Whatever it was, she had a free tutor now.

Flora nodded heartily. "You got a deal, Ssalka."

He quirked a brow.

"...You know what I mean."

Ssalka chuckled a peal of soft laughter as she pondered her first question. An unsolved problem. A mystery of magic nobody could figure out.

"First question," she prompted.

"First answer," he replied.

"What is...the nature of entropy?"

His eyes glittered with delight, and he spoke in the tone of a pleased teacher. "Ahhhhh...Now that is a good question. And the answer may surprise you."

"Then surprise me all you like."

"I may just."

He raised his bejeweled arm. With a pulse of power, a churning ball of void appeared over his palm, casting black light across the room.

"Men think of entropy as an endless march. An irreversible decline to darkness. They are wrong. But, wrong for the right reasons. Allow me to explain..."

------------------------

Floria sat, enraptured, the hours melting away as Ssalka shared his wisdom. He explained in analogy, in allegory, and good-old-fashioned technical detail. Like the most patient teacher, pausing whenever she had a question or query. He peeled back the layer of ignorance from her eyes to a truth that was so beautiful in its simplicity.

Time lost meaning. For long stretches she just listened, just sat as he taught and lectured. The memory of their first impression faded, and she almost forgot he was something not of her world. When he talked, she almost felt like she was floating, easy, hissing words like a lullaby that eased any remaining tension she had about him.

And his eyes. Any time they met, she felt him looking past her gaze. Into her, studying her. Always with a smirk or a smile or a flick of his tongue. And every time, that floaty feeling in her chest returned. Always with warmth, always like she was a hot-air balloon ready to drift into heaven. Drifting away on his wisdom, face-up in a river of silken words that send her eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

A few times she'd caught herself, shaking herself out of her daydream to bring herself back to the lesson.

"-And," he said with a flair of finish. "I think that's enough for now."

She straightened up on her cushion. "Huh? Why?"

He darted his tongue. "How long have you been awake, Floria Alwinday?"

His answer was pressing. Was it that obvious?

She rubbed the back of her head with a nervous smile. "Ah...I dunno. A day?"

Ssalka raised an unbelieving brow.

"Okay, maybe two."

His torso rose from his bundled coils, arms raising above his head. He stretched, mouth opening wide in a yawn. Past his lips, pearly white teeth, and long, sharp fangs revealed themselves in the autumn glow of her room.

When he was done, he regarded her with an almost chiding tone. "I do believe you have responsibilities, yes? In this library? I would hate to see you suffer on my account. And besides..."

He jabbed a claw towards the clock on her stand. "...Aren't you expecting visitors right about now?"

She followed his finger, looking at the clock face on her table.

1157.

A jolt shot up her spine and she scrambled to her feet, already heaving in panicked breaths. Her hands went to her hair, mind flying through the outcomes.

"Oh, crap!" she shouted. "Ms. Praa'ta! She's gonna come in here any minute!"

She looked over her shoulder, to Ssalka and the ruined portal behind him. Even if the book was gone, there wasn't hiding that evidence.

"Crap crap crap crap!" she huffed, pacing around the room in a nervous jitter. "I gotta-! Let's see. Spell of Blank Stones. No. Spell of Reversal? No. Spell of-?"

Ssalka tapped the floor. "If I may?"

When she turned her head to him, he raised a claw to the inactive portal, two of his claw fingers pressed together.

He snapped his fingers.

The smooth stone surged with light, a moving tsunami of mana rolling over it like a waterfall. The wall changed.

Not changed; returned. The smooth stone jutted out again, old chips and cuts hewing into the rock in seconds. Tiny strands of moss puffing out between the stones. Old, faded equations written in chalk scribbling out across the gray lumpy canvas.