“If I must,” Jillian muttered under her breath when the Grand Master summoned his fiendish contract from the abyss, insisting that the reach of his power was bound to the terms of ones such as this. While she impatiently tapped her foot in the moist grass, arms crossed, she watched the parchment and intricate quill float through the air towards her dark companion. He caught it effortlessly and poured over the inscriptions with as much care as Jillian observed him with.

“The contract is unique, very powerful magic,” the Grand Master remarked while Gerald continued to stare at the sheet of paper in his emaciated hands. Listening to his explanation, Jillian wondered what kind of magic this was that worked in such a convoluted, strange fashion. Neither arcane nor black magic worked in such a fashion, and this was certainly not a kind of favored power either. Just how had the Grand Master gotten his hands on this apparently unique magic? It was an intriguing concept, to have one’s power increased to whichever degree was necessary to accomplish a very explicit goal. Of course, she had to wonder if it actually increased his power, or if it merely unsealed his imprisoned power to a given extent. If it was the former, then certainly there must be a way for a mortal like herself to create such a contract with any willing entity – and receive almost limitless power, within the margins of the contract. As she mulled over the potential of this strange type of magic, she wondered if there were more, yet entirely undiscovered – or jealously kept secret – types of magic that none had heard of as of yet. Arts even more powerful than black magic, or arcane. Alas, magic was typically bound to the strength of one’s own spirit which one depleted when making use of it, and yet, this contract magic implied that there were, perhaps, ways to receive outside power. And even if not, there were plenty of relics out there in the world that one could draw power from. So many secrets in this world… she could only hope to live long enough to pry at least some of them from the darkness.

While Jillian was absorbed in thoughts of hidden sorceries, eyes still fixated on the necromancer, Gerald finally decided to sign the parchment and turned to offer the two items to her with an eerie smile. She took them from his hands, her visage wary and reserved, and noticed that the contract felt strangely heavy, considering it was merely a piece of paper. Almost as if Gerald had etched a part of his very being into the parchment, rather than simply leave a signature; no doubt something like this actually did happen, considering how inevitably binding its terms were. She read the inscriptions with significantly less care than Gerald did, partially because she trusted his judgment and partially because she simply wanted to get it over with. This entire exchange had been going on for far too long, and they had already given their accord – there simply was no turning back at this point, and thus there was no use in hesitating. The one detail that did catch her eye when she poured over the phrases was the mention of Omni. She had not heard about the artifact in a very long time, and indeed had only briefly read about it in old studies about some of the more important artifacts in this world, but she remembered well enough that it was created and used by none other than Delian Gilmah, who famously became the first lich and was imprisoned in Pelgaid’s black heart. The same place that Gerald had learned his forbidden craft. Could it be? Had he really had the gall to steal such an important item and get away with it? She knew he was shrewd, but she did not think he would have done something quite like that. Yet one more thing she wanted to talk to him about… there was so much, and so little time.

“Well, there you go,” she murmured while making her mark – an unsurprisingly lavish signature with overdone, fancy curls and curves, very reminiscent of how she writes in the air when casting spells she is familiar with.

“It’s done,” she announced with a clear voice, stretching out her arm and letting go of the parchment, discarding it to the wind. She had no doubts the accursed contract would find its way back to its master one way or another, “Now, there’s something you owe to tell us, demon.”