Essence of a Devil (Prologue)

The transition happened seamlessly, so imperceptible it took me several seconds to even register something was decidedly odd with the store I had wandered inside. I knew historical cities had their little odd places, shops out of the way that only the true explorers, the wayward adventurers and the lost could find, places that were sometimes as ancient as the city they were in and filled with a mysterious air, steeped with the relics of ancient times. When I bothered to travel, those were often the places I liked to find myself in. They were the ones whose people could tell you the local history, the culture of the people, their tastes and customs so often reflected in the very building itself through art pieces and other manners of decor.

But, as my steps came to a halt, my mind slowly started to realize that a traditional chocolate store should not, could not be a narrow, dark shop smelling of mold, with shelves and more shelves, tables, counters and showcases tightly packed in a cramped space filled with an assortment of the most varied flasks I had seen in my life. Each of the dozens, perhaps hundreds of vials all had different liquids inside them, each of which was radically different from the other in a truly amazing variety. Some glowed, some seemed to suck light, some appeared to make some faint noise when I approached, but no matter what, my eyes always seemed to get drawn to one of them.

“Essence of the Throne,” I whispered, reading into a tag that had been tied around the cork of one particular flask. Underneath it there was a card with something written on it. It was-

“Oh, a customer?” A voice sprang and almost made me jump.

I swirled, turning around alarmed and my eyes immediately went to the back of the shop where a woman now stood. She was small in stature, with a hunch on her back that only made her look tinier. She was also unbelievably old, downright ancient looking I dared say, face sunken and full of all manners of wrinkles. Her expression was severe looking, but at the very least she seemed friendly at a first glance.

“M-ma’am,” I greeted the old lady, placing the flask down and carefully maneuvering myself to approach her. “Is this your shop? It’s very… unique.”

“Indeed?” She chuckled for a moment, cackling like a crone. “Why thank you, young man. Are you a traveler, perhaps?” She inquired not much later, an excited air around her. “It’s not often my humble store sees a visitor.”

“You could say that,” I nodded, giving another look around. “Though I’m quite curious. I’m… fairly certain I entered a chocolate store, but, and I mean no offense, this isn’t a chocolate store. Or is it?” I’d be more than a little surprised if it was.

“You are right,” the elder woman nodded. “This is no chocolate store, rather, something much more. This is an Essence Shop and I am but a humble Essence Merchant. Mathilda at your service.”

“I see,” I nodded. Something was wrong. “Essence?”

“Yes,” she hissed, bobbing her head. “Essences. Imagine something, anything. It could be your favorite food, a show you enjoy, even powers from the most wild and fantastic story you have read in your life.” She said. “Now, condense this thing. Break it down to smaller parts. The food? You get the taste. The show? You pick up a setting, or perhaps a character. A super power, it could be magic, anything. That is an Essence.”

“... Right.” I muttered hesitantly, looking at the woman with concerned eyes. She might not be in the best mental state given what she just sprouted, and I’d be worried to leave her alone and unattended as she apparently was.

She chuckled after a moment carefully searching through my face.

“You don’t believe me,” she laughed, and I started to awkwardly laugh in tandem ready to deflect with an excuse before she continued. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I understand how that might sound to you. Here, drink this, the Essence of the Blank. It’ll remove the barriers blocking your potential.” She said, offering me a bottle that, for all intents and purposes, held normal water.

I looked hesitantly for a moment at the woman, the old lady looking at me with encouraging eyes and motioning for me to continue and silently I debated with myself. If this was really water just as it looked like, then nothing would happen, not really. On the other hand, if I ended up dying because I ingested something toxic to my organism, I would only spend a few minutes suffering, I suppose, which was still not something I wanted.

My face twitched.

“This really better be worthy,” I grumbled, picking up the bottle and steeling myself as I brought it to my lips.

The liquid did not taste as it touched my mouth. Neither did it smell, which completely sold me on the idea that it was just water put inside of a fancy bottle. Except, when I started to gulp down, that notion quickly came to an abrupt end as I felt my throat and in fact, my whole digestive tract absolutely burning, as if I was drinking pure undiluted alcohol.

I started coughing not a second later, having finished drinking the liquid and my vision was completely blurred with unshed tears as my eyes watered.

“W-what the-?” Another rack of coughs broke my words as I keeled over the counter top. “What the hell was that?” I asked a minute later, glaring venomously at the woman.

“The Blank Essence having its effect on you, dear,” the woman answered, looking completely unfazed by my reaction. “Take a look, concentrate for a moment.” She suggested. “You will understand what I mean once you feel it.”

This woman was crazy, I thought, not at all enjoying what that made of me, someone that followed what she said.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the burning sensation that was still inside of me. It was hard, because although the burning wasn’t exactly burning anymore, I still felt uncomfortably warm and my throat raw. But still, pushing through it, I did feel it, somehow. It was something hard to explain but, if I closed my eyes and squinted them tightly shut and then concentrated on a part of my body, like my muscles, I could feel as if… as if they weren’t tense anymore. As if they didn’t feel like they could not change and surpass what they are. As if… As if they-

As if I could become more…

My eyes snapped wide open as I gasped and stepped back in shock, stumbling and hitting my back against an old cabinet that shook against the impact, the wood groaning and the entire thing shuddering, rattling the many more bottles inside.

These things were the real deal.

“Heh,” the merchant, Mathilda, laughed. It was a dry and raspy thing, and the crooked grin she sported on her face told me she was not acting like a lunatic, if gentle, old lady. No, she was a merchant now. “Surprised you, didn’t it?” Her smile stretched, turning sharp. “You can have as many Essences as you want, dear. But you will have to pay a price for them.”

My eyes turned, committing to memory the image of dozens of different Essences glinting with the low light.

This was a tempting offer. Very, very tempting. Too good to be true.

I swallowed my nerves and spoke. “What’s the catch?” I asked. “You wouldn’t just make this kind of offer to a random nobody like me. So there must be something you want.”

“Clever,” she said before continuing with her answer. ”Essences, some of them hold unimaginable power. Apotheosis in a bottle, a chance to achieve godhood in a perfectly safe, perfectly controlled and perfectly secure manner. As such, there is no greater joy for us, Essence Merchants, to see our Essences being picked and put to use.” Mathilda elaborated for a moment. “But I’m old. A senior amongst my group, you could say, and unlike the newer Merchants I liked to adhere to a time where we Merchants didn’t stick solely to a few, barely a dozen options.” She said, and shaking her head, pushed through. “No, I’m a merchant. I pride myself in having the most exotic wares you can imagine, whatever you want, so long as it is an Essence, then I can find it.”

Her eyes narrowed, unnatural purple irises staring deeply at my dark brown ones. “This is where you come in.”

“You see, dear, despite having an immense catalog in my disposition,” Mathilda said, waving at the shop around us. “There aren’t many out there who like to exit their safe zone. Willingly go through some risk, even if the reward far outweighs it. But you?” She pointed. “You are different. Perhaps because you always had to take risks in your life, but you are not afraid of failure.”

“So you brought me here,” I whispered, the words coming out of my lips in silent surprise. It didn’t even shock me that the woman nodded in return, confirming my theory. “Why?”

“Why not?” Mathilda returned with a raised brow. “Haven’t I said before? As an Essence Merchant, I want to see my Essences being used, and you are one of the only ones I know won’t stick around to simple, boring things.” Clarified the woman as she shifted minutely.

“With that said,” she continued. “How about we make a deal?”