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A grey and cold winter’s day, Opal is standing outside brooding…
- Opal... they called
- Why don’t you come in from the cold and join us?
To herself she mutters.
- Shows what they know. I am of demon kin. We feel no cold, no warmth, no remorse, no conscience, and no love. We are the soulless collectors of souls. Therefore they hate and shun me, the horned one, the hoofed one, the one who bargain for souls.
Shows how much they know…
They say I steal men’s souls. Why should I do such a thing?
They give them up for earthly pleasures, thinking that their wow is not binding…
It is not their signature of blood that will bind them to the contract, if I bothered to use such.
It is their deed, the path they choose, that will lead them to their doom…
I always get their souls in the end. And those souls I compress to beautiful gems, glistening opals that gave me my name…
Oh, some of them think they can break their contract, to flee or overcome me, to win the back what they bargained, they will fight and scream, but never realize that the sentence of doom was made by themselves.
But I never touched the innocent, I never broke a vow.
And yet they say I am the evil that lurks…
Then he came, the old man who gave me half a soul…
Not wanting any service in return…
I cannot do my magic with half a soul!
No gem to add to the collection.
I have to keep it, deep inside, and it starts to root…
It is vibrant with life and craving for feelings I do not have.
It demands to be nurtured, it wants to grow…
And I cannot give it back now…
Old foolish man, what have you done…?
Your gift was not wanted!
How can they stand to have that burden…
The snow…
… keeps my tracks, keeps my secret…
I can feel the snow…
I am cold, I better go in…
After all...
...what is half a soul...
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