Life: 14. Squaring the Debt (Patreon)

Chapter 14: Squaring the Debt

Rigal PhenexTower of Fate, MA, USA

I laid there, on the roof of the Tower of Fate, and quietly processed our victory. And, it was a victory, even if I wasn’t entirely satisfied with the outcome. The tower was safe. The helmet was safe. No one died.

Well, except Abra Kadabra, but that was my doing. No one important died. And, with any luck, Serling and Victor would be able to reverse engineer some of the future-man’s tech. I suspected they’d have a blast with that if nothing else.

The only fly in the ointment was Klarion’s banishment. I hadn’t really seen any other options, but knowing that he’d be back with a grudge made savoring this win understandably difficult.

“Did… Did we win?” Wally asked cautiously.

“Yes, Wally, we won,” I said with a tired groan, “for a certain definition of the word anyway…”

“What do you mean by that? He went poof. That’s good, right?”

“We didn’t kill him, Wally. He’s even more immortal than I am. All we did was kick him out of this plane of existence and slam the door in his face. He’ll come back, and with a grudge. If you ever see him again, he’s not likely to pull any punches.”

“Aww, crap… This was him holding back? He nearly killed us!”

“Yup.”

“Well… How much time do we have?”

“Time does not flow linearly outside this plane, Wally West,” Doctor Fate said. Or really, intoned. His voice sounded gold, though how I’d suddenly developed selective audial synesthesia, I didn’t know. Nabu was simply the kind of entity who spoke, and expected the world to obey.

He floated down with all the majesty of a pharaoh visiting his subjects. And, when his feet touched the tower, the tower sang. The genus loci rejoiced and its magic surged, welcoming its true master like an overeager puppy.

Wally looked to me with a confused frown. Apparently, now that he’d come to accept the existence of the supernatural, I was to be his translator.

“That means we don’t know,” I told him bluntly. “Klarion could be back next week, or ten years from now.”

“Oh, lovely… Not even a guess?”

“Nope. Calculating stuff like this is Kankura Formula territory, way outside my wheelhouse.”

“The what?”

“Never mind that.”

“Rigal Phenex,” Nabu interrupted us, his voice echoing with power. The ankh on his medallion glowed with power. The aura wasn’t quite holy, Order didn’t have an alignment, but it was no less breathtaking for it. “You entered the Tower of Fate.”

“I was invited, as you well know. I would not have trespassed otherwise,” I replied with a confidence I did not feel. I was invited, but Zatanna wasn’t exactly the owner.

“The young mage has no authority over the tower. An invitation was not hers to offer.”

“I fulfilled a contract and secured your anchor in the material plane, Nabu. The way I see it, a little trespassing can be forgiven in the pursuit of Order.”

“That… is so.” It could have been my ears playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn I heard some petulance there. “You are not an agent of Chaos despite your origins.”

“Because of my origins, you mean. A devil is not chaotic by nature. Sure, we lie, cheat, and steal, but at the end of the day, you can always trust us devils to pursue our desires. There is predictability in that, which itself is a type of Order.”

“Indeed. Kent Nelson is aging and frail. Take my helmet. You would make a far greater host.”

Burning-red klaxons were blaring in my mind. I was afraid of this. “Fuck no. I refuse. There is nothing you can give me that’s worth letting you wear me like a flesh suit.”

“You would have the Tower of Fate, as well as its countless secrets and artifacts. Many treasures that can be found here were lost to the anals of history.”

“Oh? Heard our contract, did you?”

“Nothing that occurs in this tower is hidden from me.”

For a moment, I was tempted. I knew what it would cost me, but this was the Tower of Fate, and everything within it. Some of the most precious grimoires in existence could be found here. Artifacts, magic weapons, and forgotten histories would all be at my fingertips.

Being Doctor Fate was an instant shortcut to true, cosmic power. Donning the helmet would instantly elevate me to godhood and beyond. Hell, even in my old world’s ever-changing Top Ten list, I could consider maybe a handful who were Nabu’s match.

But there was the rub: Nabu’s match. Not mine. Nabu would give away nothing, for I would belong to him. I could gain more power than Sirzechs Lucifer, but it would not truly be my power. I could have more wealth than every Pillar in the Underworld, but it would not be my wealth. 

I shook my head in denial. I was sure of one thing: I could not be forced to wear the helmet. It was one of the many conditions that bound Nabu in the material plane.

“No, I refuse to be your host, Nabu,” I told him firmly.

“I have much you desire. You are powerful and immortal, with the capacity for near endless growth. You are the ideal host.”

“You do, and I am. But there is more still that you cannot give me.”

“Oh?”

“A peerage of my own. Companionship. The sense of pride at soaring as high as I can upon my own wings. These are just as precious as magical artifacts or ancient tomes, Nabu.”

“A devil with foresight, how rare,” he mused. He didn’t sound entirely upset. I knew then that he’d been testing me, though it wasn’t much of a test. Slowly, he reached for his helmet. “So be it, Rigal Phenex.”

That was that, for now. He’d likely try again to convince me someday.

Nabu took the helmet off. Kent Nelson was back, and looking like he’d love nothing more than to nap the rest of the week away.

Still, there was a quiet dignity about him. Nabu was wrong. Kent Nelson was old perhaps, but not frail. Not yet. He bore heavy burdens, and bore them well.

There was more to a good Doctor Fate than immortality or magical might. He bore the mantle better than I ever could.

“Mr. Nelson,” Wally blurred to his side, helping him stand. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I have a few more years left in me yet,” he chuckled softly. He turned to me with a weathered gaze. “Rigal Phenex. I did not think I would ever owe a devil.”

“You don’t. You’re not the one who formed this contract,” I pointed out. “Saving you was implied, that’s all.”

“Perhaps. You have my gratitude anyway.”

“Then nudge Giovanni into giving me the amulet, eh? I don’t think he’ll try to welch on the deal seeing how it’s his daughter who’s involved in the contract, but a character witness couldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Wally looked around awkwardly. “So… What happens now?”

“Now, Zatanna tells daddy-Zatara to pay up. You go rejoin your teammates and get debriefed for hours. You’ll probably get a briefing about the magical world while you’re at it. As for me, I go home and relax in my hot tub.”

“One of those is not like the others.”

I dusted myself off. “What can I say? Life for Tweety is pretty fucking sweet.”

“Tweety? Do you have any idea how lame it is when you refer to yourself in the third person?”

“I do, actually. Uncle Riser used to do this all the time before Uncle Issei fisted him with the power of dragons, titties, and holy water.”

“Again, one of those is not like the others, dude. What is wrong with your family?”

“More than words can say.” I tapped my feet and my seal formed beneath me. The genus loci seemed almost eager to adjust the wards for me, probably happy to get me out of its sphere of influence. “Goodbye, Wally, Mr. Nelson.”

“Uh, wait,” Wally called. “You know Kal’s pissed about his water-bearer, right?”

“All the more reason to leave before he can yell at me.”

“Dude, so not cool. They were gifts from his friends.”

“Tell him he can have this one back if he gives me a more generic copy. Oh, and one last thing.”

“What?”

I clasped him on the shoulder and gave him my most sincere gaze. “Welcome to the moonlit world, Wally West. Please know that you, as a soulless ginger, are in good company.”

X

Zatanna ZataraMount Justice, RI, USA

We sat in the common area of our base that doubled as our living room. The whole gang sans Robin was here. The Boy Wonder and Batman had gone off to investigate something on their own so he was exempt. Lucky bastard.

“What in the world were you thinking!?” dad shouted as he paced around the room. As I’d feared, he, Mr. Nelson, Aquaman, and Red Tornado had shown up to lecture us.

“I did what I had to, dad,” I said defensively, arms crossed over my chest. I didn’t care if it made me look like a pouty teenager. I was one.

“You summoned a devil!”

“Rigal isn’t a bad guy!”

“He murdered someone!”

“I’m kinda with him, Z,” Wally opined.  “He didn’t have to kill Abra Kadabra. He could have restrained him.”

He quailed under my glare, but ultimately held firm. I heard about Flash. He was just about the nicest guy, and had the nicest rogue gallery. It must have been great, living in Central City with its polite villains that held to strict decency rules and unending game of cops & robbers.

Honestly, I felt a little bad. This mission was rough on him. He was starting to learn that the rest of the world wasn’t that kind. Where magic was concerned, mercy wasn’t a luxury even devil lords could afford lightly.

Rigal was Rigal. Tweety was Tweety. They were almost entirely different people.

Surprisingly, Aquaman agreed with me. “As objectionable as taking a life is, he did so in combat, after providing ample warning. That must be taken into account, my friend.”

“That doesn’t make it right, Aquaman,” dad said emphatically. “We’re better than that.”

“He is not a hero. I would not condemn one of my soldiers for killing an opponent. Moreover, the laws of magic are different; you know this.”

“Exactly. He isn’t a hero. He doesn’t play by our rules so he can’t be trusted. Calling him was an unacceptable risk.”

“Was it? We’ve met him before,” I stressed. “Multiple times. We have a good idea of his personality. Hell, even Batman hasn’t gone full paranoid over him.”

“Devils lie, daughter. That’s what they do. That’s what they’re best at. He could have been fooling you all.”

“He wasn’t. I’m fine, dad. He could have asked for anything and he just wants a trinket.” I stood and gave him a hug. He returned it tightly.

I knew where he was coming from. It wasn’t about Rigal, not really. We were up against a Lord of Chaos. He knew better than anyone but Mr. Nelson just how outgunned we were. He knew we had no choice.

We could have died. I could have died. And that scared him more than anything else in the world.

“I’m okay, dad,” I whispered into his shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Zatanna…”

“Rigal isn’t evil, dad. He’s just… ambitious…”

“He still wants you.”

“He does,” I confirmed. There was no point lying about this. “All of me. My choice, my free will, included.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I will fetch the Amulet of Aten.”

“Hold up, Zatanna promised the amulet, right?” Connor said. “What’s the big deal, then? Can’t we just not give it to him?”

“NO!” Mr. Nelson, Aquaman, Kal’dur, dad, and I shouted at once.

Mr. Nelson took over, softly but sternly. “One does not renege on a magical contract lightly, especially with a devil lord.”

“Why? It’s not her amulet in the first place. Isn’t the contract meaningless if what she promised isn’t hers to give away?”

“That is true in a strictly legal reading of the contract. However, in such a case, the contractor has two choices: Acquire the item she promised at all cost, or default on the contract.”

“And defaulting is bad…”

“Immensely so.”

“What if we give him the amulet, then beat him up and take it back?” Artemis asked. And here I’d thought she was the sensible one. “I mean, if the amulet is such a big deal, then we shouldn’t let him keep it, right?”

The magically inclined adults looked like they wanted to crack open the wine cellar so I spoke in their stead. “That’s not going to work. Rigal is mostly friendly. That’s a good thing, but I think it’s made you underestimate how powerful a devil lord really is.”

“Are you saying he can beat us all?” she asked skeptically. “I mean, what he did to Abra Kadabra was scary, but–”

“The League? Hah, no. Us? As in the Team? Yes. Probably pretty easily. Forcibly taking back the amulet would need serious backup, like, Superman or Wonder Woman. It’d also mean destroying any kind of support we’d get later. It might make him an outright villain. Worse, the collateral damage of that fight would be catastrophic. There is no ‘winning’ here.”

“And he would be in his right to seek revenge. Keeping the Helmet of Fate from Klarion’s hands was not a simple favor,” Mr. Nelson advised severely. “Breaking the spirit of a contract, if not the word, will be taken as a grave insult. I cannot support such a decision, and neither can Nabu.”

“So we give him the amulet, fine,” Connor huffed. “Why is it so important anyway? It’s just a dumb necklace, right?”

Dad and Mr. Nelson looked at each other. As one, they let out a tired sigh. “If only…”

Wally coughed awkwardly. He raised his hand just as if we were in class. He looked downright nervous now. “Umm… Mr. Nelson? Mr. Zatara?”

“Yes, Kid Flash?” dad answered.

“Magic is real. The amulet is real. And contracts are a big deal.”

“That is correct. It may seem like fantasy to you, but many of the rules you see bandied about in movies, novels, and folk tales have their origins in reality.”

“O-Okay, fine. I get it; I was wrong. I just… Since we know what we’re going to do about the amulet, can I ask a question?”

“Knowledge is power in a very literal sense, Kid Flash. It speaks well of you that you are willing to learn. Ask your question. I will tell you what I can, so long as the information does not pose a danger to you.”

“Then…” He took a deep breath. He spoke, so fast that he must have used super speed to word-vomit. “Dogingershavesouls?”

“I… One more time…?”

“Do… Do gingers… redheads… have souls…?”

“What?” Next to me, dad looked poleaxed by the question.

I started giggling uncontrollably. His normally suave, Italian accent made his confusion sound even funnier to me. Wally had done it. He’d done what countless great mages and villains could not: He’d gagged Giovanni Zatara.

“W-Well, you said a lot of stuff we normies hear is bleedover from the real magical stuff, and…”

“Why would you not have a soul? What does hair color have to do with your spiritual eternity?”

“It’s a thing people say sometimes, dad,” I said, still giggling like a loon. “You know, like how blondes are dumb or Asians are good at math. It’s a stereotype.”

“I… I do not understand the youth of today. But I assure you, Kid Flash, you do, in fact, possess a soul. All living things possess souls, or ‘anima’ as they are occasionally called.”

Wally sighed in relief. “Phew, you have no idea how good that is to hear, Mr. Z.”

“Why would you even ask that?” Artemis scoffed. “That sounded dumb even to me.”

“W-Well, yeah, in hindsight, sure. But I bet you’d ask too if the literal devil told you that!”

I let out an exasperated sigh. A rueful grin nudged at the corners of my lips. Leave it to Rigal to play a final prank on Wally.

X

Rigal PhenexPhoenix Roost, NJ, USA

I stared down at the little amulet. It had been delivered a few days later by priority mail, no doubt Giovanni Zatara wanted to clear the debt as soon as possible. His paranoia was understandable, not that he had anything to fear from me.

The Amulet of Aten was about the size of my palm and had a simple, leather strap that could be worn around the neck. It was a golden disk about half an inch thick, and quite weighty for its size. Towards the bottom, the disk fanned out into something that reminded me of a fish’s tail. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was either arrows coming out of the central disk, or perhaps stalks of barley or wheat with their heads pointed down.

That tracked. Aten was the Sun Disk, an aspect of Ra. As such, he was the “giver of nourishing light.” Though he wasn’t the god of agriculture, that was Min, he was still often associated with harvests and more than one pharaoh had performed rituals in his honor for a good harvest.

The amulet felt heavy in my hand in a way that spoke of more than gold. Its face was completely unadorned at first glance, but a pulse of magic channeled through it revealed complex sigils that were too small for me to read clearly. It also burned like a bitch.

Whatever else could be said of Aten, he was still a god. The amulet was his sacred artifact and didn’t seem to appreciate a devil’s mana. I likened it to a cat that tasted the food I had to offer, then threw a hissy fit when it decided its dinner wasn’t good enough. That was how I really knew I had the real thing.

“So… That’s it? All that trouble and you got a golden doohickey?” Max asked as he poked his head over my shoulder. “It looks boring.”

“Looks can be deceiving, brother,” I chided gently. “This is sacred. Divine mana wafts from it like a cologne.”

“Yeah, I can tell… maybe. It’s making my arm hairs stand on end. Is that the divine mana?”

“Probably. An instinctive wariness is not unexpected even if you can’t sense it properly.”

“Fine, but now what? Didn’t you say holy stuff is bad for our health?”

“Generally true, yes.”

“So you got this glorified coaster but you can’t really do anything with it?”

“At this moment? Yeah, pretty much. I’ll have to train with it more, get used to channeling divinity alongside demonic energy.”

“Lame. I’m gonna microwave a burrito. Want one?”

“Sure, get me the steak & beans one, thanks.”

He left, leaving me to ponder. The amulet was indeed just a pretty bauble for the moment. That said, it was also the key to father’s rainbow flames.

During the war against the Khaos Brigade, dad mastered the sacred flames of the Bennu and blended it with hellfire. He created rainbow-colored flames that seared even Typhon and Vidar, who’d chosen to side with the original Lucifer. Given Typhon’s reputation as the hundred-headed dragon and Vidar’s as the god of vengeance, neither were pushovers.

Bennu wasn’t just any ol’ phoenix. It was the bird said to symbolize Ra’s ba, the personality within his soul. It was the light of creation, the fire and song that shaped reality over the primordial waters. As both the bird of the sun and rebirth, it had significant ties to Aten.

Of course, things were a bit more complicated than that, what with all the other pantheons around, but my reasoning was sound: If Bennu was enough for my old man to level up his game, then surely Aten’s sacred amulet would be just as effective for me.

That all depended on my ability to use the damn thing. In many ways, its magic was the opposite of my own. Even when I wasn’t channeling the Phenex flames, my magic was fueled by demonic power and the amulet reacted negatively to it. I’d already been burned a dozen times over by golden flames tinged with divinity.

I’d figure it out… eventually… One option was for me to purge my magic of demonic power. Set it to “neutral,” in other words. That required more control than I possessed. Until then, this thing served the same purpose as Max’s shard of kryptonite: resistance training.

I set the amulet aside for now. That was a long-term project. For now, I had something else in mind: Klarion. Even banished, he was a major concern.

How did one slow the return of a Lord of Chaos? It had to be possible. As powerful as they were, they weren’t the top dogs in this setting. Someone had to have the power or know-how.

Off the top of my head, two came to mind: 

One was the owner of a piano lounge in Los Angeles. Lucifer Morningstar, rightful King of Hell and the person who least wanted the title to begin with.

Technically speaking, he was my inter-dimensional… uncle…? Great-grandfather…? Either way, I had the sneaking suspicion that he already knew about me, and wouldn’t appreciate me crashing his retirement.

The other was John Constantine. Human mage, and considerably less powerful than Lucifer, though that wasn’t saying much. He was a bonafide expert on all things demonic and extraplanar, and a self-professed jackass of the highest caliber.

Not only was he cunning, he dragged around trouble of the magical kind like a bad odor. People tended to die when they hung around him for long enough. That said, for the right price, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do.

I didn’t want to. I really didn’t want to. But seeing how the other option was literally Lucifer, I didn’t have much of a choice: I had to look for Constantine.

Author’s Note

Meh, not much to say, just closing things out. I’m not sure what I’ll do with this story tbh, especially since I don’t really like the later seasons of Young Justice. At this point, I might just insert a bunch of non-canon characters like Deathstroke or Starfire for funsies.

The amulet is meant to be a long-lasting source of power/driver in this story. Not sure how this’ll play out later. I’m sure I’ll pick it up again eventually.

I truly have zero clue how to keep a Lord of Chaos from coming after you so if you have any ideas, let me know.

Also, because I am unsure about the direction of this story, I am tabling all commissions regarding it for the foreseeable future. You can consider this moratorium lifted if/when I post chapter fifteen as that’ll mean I have a general outline of future events I want to address.

Animal Fact: Octopi are intelligent; you knew that. They’re so smart that they’re capable of narrative dreaming.

On multiple occasions, scientists have filmed an octopus named Costello exhibiting bizarre behaviors while asleep, including abrupt color changes, erratic motions, releasing water from their siphons, and even blowing ink. And if you recall a previous fact about octopi, they can suffocate to death on their own ink if they don’t leave the cloud.

Scientists noted that these behaviors are consistent with anti-predatorial responses. Meaning, there is a good chance that Costello, who had lost an arm to a predator before being brought to the lab, could have been having nightmares.