Friendship Pact
A deal with a devil
Bartherioch looked down at the seal. It had been inscribed by a master, no doubt. The lines were perfect. Humans tended to think the medium was important, using inks made of blood or other mysterious elixirs. It did not matter what the seal was made from; the color was more important. This one had used the correct hue to ensure Bartherioch’s loyalty, the color of the sky on the solstice. Clever human.
Usually when these sorts of things happened, he was in some desolate temple or some moonlit grove. Often there was a brazier or a fire. Sometimes they brought goats, for some reason. But here he found himself somewhere he had not been before. A cheerful place, if he got the word right. A small fireless lamp, carpeting, a bed with a metal frame shaped like a heart. The walls were the color of springtime roses, and there were thin colorful tomes and plushy idols strewn about. He noticed the sorcerer.
It was the smallest conjurer he had ever seen. She had forsaken the usual cloak and cowl humans seemed to like. She held a stylus the same color blue as the seal instead of an ornate knife. She stared up at him without fear.
“I am Bartherioch, lower Arch Demon of the Vanguard of Hell. With whom do I consort?” Names were a powerful thing and knowing hers would be some small leverage.
“Hell is a swear!” she replied.
What sort of name is Hell-is-a-swear? Humans had only gotten more and more unusual. He suspected however, she was not following the rules, which annoyed him. “Very well, Hell-is-a-swear. What is your request?”
She giggled. “That’s not my name. I’m Amanda. Do you want to color?” She held out her stylus.
“I am not allowed to want things,” Bartherioch intoned. “I must know what you want, however.”
“Why?”
“So we may make an exchange,” Bartherioch said. Strange that this powerful little conjurer did not know the rules. “Name your desire.”
She was silent for a minute and went back to scribbling on her parchments. Bartherioch waited. He had no choice but to wait. Perhaps the clever little human knew she could trap him here for decades if she made no exchange. They had tried that before. Eventually they asked him to go away and he would earn their soul simple as that.
“I want you to be my friend forever,” Amanda finally said.
“Forever?” Bartherioch pondered. How would he claim her soul this way? But, he found, it was not against the rules to agree to this. He snapped his fingers and a parchment appeared. “If this is your final request, you must sign your name here.”
Amanda read the contract carefully. Shrewd one. Of course she was. “And I’ll be your friend forever, too.”
“Shall I amend the agreement?”
Amanda shook her head. “Nah, I’ll just promise it.” She used her stylus to write “Amanda Delaney Ortega” on the contract. Bartherioch waited for the compulsion to set in. Usually the humans wanted power or fame or money. Whatever they asked for slowly corrupted them, of course, as the agreement took hold. Occasionally it killed them outright. But nothing seemed to happen here. He did not even return to Hell.
“What’s your name again?”
“Must I repeat it?” The power of names worked both ways.
“Yes. If we’re gonna be friends, I need to call you something. Those are the rules.”
Rules. Oh, she was clever. “I am Bartherioch, lower Arch Demon of the Vanguard of Hell.”
Amanda shook her head. “That’s too much. I’m gonna call you Barther.”
Bartherioch winced. “Familiarity is against the rules.”
Amanda made a face. “What rules? Friends use nicknames sometimes. Barther is your nickname.” She continued making shapes on her parchment.
Barther did not suit him, he thought, but he could not deny this ‘nickname’ protocol. Alas.
Amanda held up the page. “Look. It’s you.”
The demon stared at it. “It is not. I am not that hue. Besides, I am not that flat. That must be some other entity.”
Amanda laughed. “You’re very silly. It’s you.” She wrote ‘Barther’ at the top.
A larger human entered. Amanda addressed her as Mommy. “Look,” the conjurer said, passing the sheet of parchment to Mommy.
“What’s this?” the woman asked.
“It’s my new friend, Barther! He’s over there.” Amanda pointed at the demon.
“Mommy cannot see me,” Bartherioch said. How did the little human not know this?
Mommy chuckled. “An imaginary friend, huh? Well, he’s very scary looking....”
“He isn’t scary!” Amanda protested. “He’s very funny and nice.”
Mommy handed the paper back. “If you say so. C’mon, Mandita, time for bed.”
Who is this Mandita? Bartherioch was appalled to find that Mommy was referring to Amanda. Multiple names? What a profane practice. Not even the Prince allowed such vulgarity. He waited in Amanda’s chamber while the sorcerer and Mommy performed some strange ritual.
They returned after some time, and Mommy gave Amanda a kiss on the head. “Good night, my Mandita. Sweet dreams.”
“Good night, Mommy. Say good night to Barther too please.”
Mommy looked at the incorrect corner of the room and said, “Good night, Barther.” She extinguished the fireless lamp.
“Good night, Barther,” Amanda repeated to him.
“Is it?”
Amanda giggled. “You don’t know anything do you? It’s okay. I’ll teach you. Friends say good night before they go to sleep.”
“I will not sleep,” Bartherioch said.
“Well I’m going to! So tell me good night! It’s important. Abuela says.”
“Very well. Good night, Amanda.”
The little conjurer slept until dawn.
Amanda stood at the edge of the rushing water. Her eyes were alight in a way that troubled Bartherioch. A curious sensation.
“What are you doing, Amanda?” he asked.
“I’m gonna swim, Barth.” She had insisted on changing his name again. He could not resist this. But he found he could refuse to call her Mandy like she wanted.
“But it is against the rules.” Bartherioch pointed at the sign that read “EXTREME DANGER: Submerged Weir. Venturing over it is RISKING CERTAIN DEATH”
“Oh Barth you’re so boring sometimes,” Amanda said. “It’ll be fine.”
“The inscription says it will not be.”
Amanda rolled her eyes and took a step forward.
“Amanda, do not.” Bartherioch said.
She hesitated but looked at him defiantly. “You can’t stop me.”
“I FORBID IT!”
Bartherioch roared.
Amanda was so startled she fell back into the grass. She began to cry. Humans did this sometimes when they were sad or afraid. They wailed and made water from their faces. Strange behavior.
Dad appeared. He was no longer Daddy. “Mija! What happened?” He gasped. “Come away from there! It’s very dangerous, Mandita.” He scooped her up and hugged her fiercely. “It’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re okay.” He kissed her head. “You could have died!” He kissed her again. “I’m sorry for yelling. You’re okay, tranquilo. I was just worried.” He made his way up the bank.
Amanda stared at Bartherioch through her tears.
He found he was pleased she had followed the rules.
Amanda stood with Mom in a queue. Bartherioch looked around. “Amanda, this is very much like from whence I come.” The endless queues. The forms. The rules.
Amanda laughed. “The DMV is Hell?”
“Mija, language!” Mom scolded, but she laughed. “It really is though. Cmon, we’re next.”
Bartherioch had watched her complete a form a few days ago with much interest. Humans’ idea of rules were very crude and imprecise, but he could see they understood the thrust of it. Perhaps one day they would get it exact. Today Amanda was to do her practical.
The instructor was a middle aged man called Roger. “Hi, Miss Ortega.” Bartherioch had learned that this was a formality humans used. It puzzled him, but formality was acceptable. “Are you ready? Don’t be nervous.” Roger smiled. “Show me the way to your car.”
Mom hugged her daughter and wished her luck. Amanda listened to Roger’s instructions as he guided her through her practical. Eventually they came to a stop. “Okay, turn left here,” Roger said.
“Amanda,” Bartherioch said. “Do you see the other machine coming?”
“No,” Amanda said hesitantly.
“I’m sorry?” Roger asked, his face screwed up in confusion.
Before Amanda could reply, another car appeared over the gentle slope to their right and blew through the four-way stop. Roger turned pale. “Well, I’m glad you saw that guy coming.” He wrote something on his parchment. “Good instincts,” he said, then relaxed. “You must have a guardian angel.” They both chuckled.
Bartherioch was not amused.
“Amanda,” Bartherioch said. The conjurer had grown considerably. She was hanging the stones she liked from her ears. “He is breaking the rules.”
Amanda stopped and looked over her shoulder at the one who called himself Zach instead of the correct name, Zachariah. “What are you talking about?” she whispered.
“He does not love you.”
Amanda snorted. “What do you know about love, Barth?”
The demon knew nothing about love. But he had come to learn that there were some rules around it. “He says the words to someone else.”
Amanda froze. “Does he?”
Bartherioch did not lie. He could not lie.
“Zach?” Amanda asked, turning. The man was adjusting a suit jacket. He smiled at her.
“What is it babe?”
“Is there someone else?”
Zach’s smile disappeared. He blinked, then chuckled. “What are you talking about? Why are you asking me that?”
Amanda could be stubborn. It exasperated many. It made others afraid. “Tell me.” Zach became afraid. They had a long argument. There was much shouting and wild gesturing. By the end, Amanda was alone, crumpled on her bed, her face leaking. This was a thing humans did sometimes when they broke agreements with one another.
“I thought he was going to propose tonight,” Amanda moaned.
“Propose what?”
Even through tears, Amanda smiled the way she did when she needed to explain something to Bartherioch. “Marriage.”
Ah. The human ritual that they thought symbolized a merging of souls. Souls could not do that of course. “It would have been a poor agreement,” Bartherioch said.
Amanda scoffed. “Ya think?”
“I know it.”
Amanda’s eyes glistened and her voice croaked, but she said. “Thank you. I’m glad you are my friend.”
“It is our agreement,” Bartherioch nodded.
Amanda had made a mistake when she mentioned to the woman next to her she was hungry. Batherioch started pointing out every restaurant they passed. He hadn’t quite gotten the grasp of buses yet and did not understand she couldn’t stop whenever she wanted. While most people on the bus probably wouldn’t give her a second thought for muttering to herself, as a rule she didn’t like to explain things to the demon when out in public.
“Barth,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Stoppit!” She flashed an apologetic smile to the woman next to her who returned it with no small amount of concern.
When she stepped off the bus she glanced at the demon. “Thanks for your help, but you know I can’t talk to you in crowds.”
“Yes.” Barth said. “You broke your rule.”
She shrugged. “Sometimes friends do that for each other.” Framing things as rules made it easy for him to understand. She knew this would sometimes spawn arguments so she pressed on. “*Now* it’s okay to find a spot to eat, though.”
“This one is a good establishment.” He pointed. “You will get an agreeable quantity for your coins.”
She frowned. “I dunno Barth. This place looks kinda shady.”
“Of course it is. All indoor places are by definition.”
She sighed. She wasn’t in the mood for this and didn’t want to hear him chastise her for the next two blocks for making a poor agreement. She stepped inside. It could barely be called a restaurant; there was just enough room for people to stand behind a row of stools lined along the counter. With two other patrons in the place already, she felt like she was violating fire code by entering.
It smelled good at least.
She sat down and ordered a breakfast sandwich and coffee. The man next to her looked up and grinned. “Best coffee in town, right? And you can’t beat the portions for the price.”
Amanda thought Bartherioch looked smug but she ignored him. She explained that she had just moved to the city and she was just getting her bearings. The man turned and introduced himself as Samir. Amanda and he talked for a good long while and she laughed. He gave her a small parchment before he left.
That night, Amanda paced around her apartment. “Should I call him Barth?”
The demon stared. “It is against the—“
“Yes I know it’s against the rules for you to decide.” Amanda sighed. “Can you tell me if this one’s evil or something?”
“There are no evil people. Only evil choices.”
Amanda continued pacing. “Does he make evil choices?”
“Everyone makes—“
“Right, Barth, I know. It just….” She sighed. Bartherioch stared for a long moment. He cringed and recoiled and spasmed like he did that time she joked he was a bad friend. “Barth? Buddy what’s wrong?”
“Call,” the demon growled through bared teeth, his voice strained and strangled like he was in immense pain.
Amanda stopped breathing. “Did you….” Her eyes were wide. The demon stared back, completely motionless. Amanda became angry. “You shouldn’t be punished. You followed the rules.” Bartherioch twitched. “You are a good friend, Barth.”
The demon fell to his knee. He looked up. Eyes blazing. “Call him, Amanda.”
Amanda lay in the strange bed. Her breathing was feeble. She had changed names again. Amanda Delaney Fawaz now. The one called Samir had pledged his soul to her many decades ago. He dozed in the chair next to Amanda’s bed.
The conjurer had many visitors during the day. Her children and friends and the practitioners who ensured her comfort. Samir never left, though. He was, Bartherioch reasoned, a good friend to Amanda.
Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled. “Barth.” He knew she knew.
“Amanda. Do you hear the choir? It beckons.”
She shook her head weakly. “I don’t hear anything.”
The voices swelled. “Very soon, I expect.”
“If you say so,” she whispered. “I have lived a joyful life. I am glad you’ve been there for it.” Would the demon be released from his agreement in the next few moments? “I have known love,” she looked at Samir. “And true friendship.” Again, she smiled. “Bartherioch, you are beautiful, you know?”
She had never used his full name before. He felt a twitch at his shoulders. Great wings, with feathers of all the colors of the Rainbow of the Covenant hung like a cloak from his back. He understood. Names can change after all.
Therael lifted Amanda in his arms.
“Where are we going?”
“I am certain you know,” Therael said.
“I hear it now,” she whispered. “And I’m glad you’re coming too.”
Therael swished his glorious wings. “It is as we agreed.”
They flew.


Beau this is AMAZING! That was a brilliant story. I loved every second of it and I wish it was longer!!! Your voice recordings are so fun, I’m really glad you add them! This story is going to stick with me 😍
this is great