“Spirits, are you there?” Candles pulsed in the aether, alerting them to his mental state. Absinthe and salvia extract opened the human mind to their world. Suppressing their sniggers, they approached.
Yes, we are here, Iggo replied in dulcet tones. He was the only one that could be heard by their target. The other imps gathered around him, jostling for position, each eager to provide their own suggestions to the “prophet”. What would you ask of us?
“I am asked about the war. Can you see the outcome?”
Aggo snorted, rolling bulbous eyes. “Boring. Too easy.”
Eggo clung to Iggo’s side. “Dare we tell him Lord Amatoth is controlling the human king?”
“Of course not,” Iggo snapped. “Someone might actually believe him if he started talking about demons.” He cleared his throat, thinking of an appropriately mysterious sounding answer. Only when the hind takes the field will the end be in sight. No lion shall conquer, though his paws crush all.
Aggo laughed. “You’re too good at this.” He slapped his knee, imagining the half-crazed human trying to understand the image. “Think he’ll get the heraldic meanings?”
“Why shouldn’t he,” Oggo asked, exasperated. “He’s not that stupid.”
“Yes he is!”
“You’re just biased against humans.” Oggo crossed his arms and turned away with a huff. Aggo sneered and stuck out his forked tongue.
“Can the invasion be stopped?”
Uggo sighed. “So focused on one little kingdom. I’m with Aggo; humans are stupid.”
Iggo chuckled. “Why do you think we play this game?”
“Because Master Be’al wants us to help control them.” Eggo’s voice was tiny and timid, and he flinched when Aggo shot him a vicious glare.
“Ah, yes,” Iggo mused. “Duty.” He returned to the falsetto voice, providing the details their boss wanted known. Time invades all. The conqueror becomes the conquered. Yet a guardian waits in stone prison, capable of changing the tide.
“How will I find this guardian?”
“Best you don’t,” Oggo warned. “She’s not what you think.”
The candles began to fade, and the imps knew the prophet’s mind grew tired. They didn’t have time to play with him. Uggo swore. “Next time, convince him that diseased liver is a delicacy.”
Five stars mark the guardian. Habits will hide the way. Time has claimed many names, and conquerors have take their place. Release is only the beginning. The candles winked out.
With a groan, Aggo strolled away. “He’ll never figure it out.”
Iggo rubbed his hands together. “He’ll keep coming for clues, and never know who he’s freeing. They never should have locked Tyamet away.”
“Yeah,” Uggo added. “She’s gonna pissed when she sees what they’ve done to the planet.” The imps laughed as they parted.
