Hellstone

"There it is," said Lyodesh, back in his own body. "One immortal soul as payment for your services."

The imp cackled as he removed his prize from the crimson stone. "Why the long face? You knew what you were getting yourself into the moment you made the pact. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable. If the evil bothers you, just give in."

"You really don't care about the outcome of this war, do you?" he replied, evading the issue of morality. "The future of mankind rests in the balance, magic is on the verge of being eliminated, and all you care about is soul collection."

The imp laughed. "To the Ethereal, it doesn't matter who wins. There will always be souls for us to reap. But, if you must know...I see a time beyond this one, when your pitiful race has moved beyond the Dark Ages. The Renaissance is coming, and there is no place for your kind." With one last, bone-chilling cackle, the demon left.

Lyodesh stared at the stone laying there on the floor. It had taken a lot of pleading to get the demons to give him a Hellstone, the only material that would withstand the enchantment he had placed on it. He laughed. Pleading wasn't the right word. Bartered was more like it- but Hell agreed once they realized the youthful energy the soul would contain.

Lyodesh could no longer bear to look at it. It was a dangerous item to own, and he had no delusions of his power. Infallible magic did not mean powerful magic. He may have created the stone, but he was in no condition to destroy it.

"I'll summon an archmage in the morning," he muttered under his breath.

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