Fascination was betrayed in the wide saucers that were my eyes. Dim flickers of candlelight and dying embers of the once roaring hearth, shone only in faint hues of crimson and citrine. The Ancestor was vaguely familiar in shape, but the features of the beast were entirely fantastical and unnatural. Over the thin shrieks of the window outside my chamber, the soft, shallow breaths of the demonic Ancestor were all that could be heard. My breath had caught within my chest and my heart had seemed to cease it's hammering against my bosom.
The summoning circle had long since ceased to glow with the enchanting magic, the now scorched ash and soot of the materials being swept by some hitherto unknown force into the corners and crevices of the wooden floor. The stirring of the beast drew my attention to the hideous face it held. A single long probuscis dangled loosely upon it's chest and multifaceted beetle black eyes sat on either side of its head.
I knew the spell's side effects on the entity would soon give way and it would awaken. Quick hands, practiced and trained in the most basic elements of the summoning arts spread the salt and protective willow charms I had made for this purpose. A quick glance to the demon's head revealed a series of runes had become visible upon it's forehead between two armored stumps where horns must have once been.
Though the language was ancient, the runes archaic, the name they spelled brought a new, fresh wave of fear into my heart. Professors, scholars, teachers and tutors alike, with my father's patronage having afforded all manner of education and enlightenment for me in my youth, had warned of this name. A fierce, insectoid prince of Hell, a king of all scourges and pestilence, the gluttonous lord of flies.
"Beelzebub."
My voice had been soft, barely a whisper, but the simple utterance I'd given had lent a sudden start to the demon prince of Hell. Fear, confusion, amazement, all flooded through me as I tried to understand how this was my Ancestor. Had I made a mistake? Written a rune wrong? Spake a syllable in the ritual chanting and recitation incorrectly? I had known this spell was unlikely to be successful, and had been warned it may be dangerous, but my damnable curiosity had driven me to this moment. This would be my final achievement in life and yet also a resounding failure as there was no doubt I'd be soon dragged back into the depths of hell. Charms and scripture could only protect me so long.
"Yeah?'
I felt my body freeze, my hands turning clammy, and my heart dropping as the demon slowly revived and sat up. Those terrible, horrible, shining black eyes turned to look at me, into me, past me. They showed nothing but my own reflection a thousand times framed and silhouetted against the now fading firelight. I attempted to take a step back, but the demon was standing quickly, with speed beyond what even I would have expected of someone pulled through time and space. But the laws of the universe did not obey a being such as this Beelzebub.
"Wait."
The voice bade me to stop, to halt and wait it emanated from the base of the probuscis which seemed to undulate and swing freely, the end of which I now noticed tucked up and behind the demon. A large hand rose in an outward faced palm, and I raised my wand in defiance against the spell that was soon to come. But it never did, rather a second hand rose to side of the demons head and in an instant my mind was racked with confusion, relief, curiosity, and fear all over again.
"What is your name child?"
I felt a flood of questions and a wave of emotion wash over me as the deep voice spoke and filled the room. My eyes peering deep into the two pools of hazel that had once been hidden behind the insect-like plates. Comfort, sadness, heat and chills spread two fold as I swallowed back my fear and whispered a single word in response.
"Marie."
Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies, Dread Demon Prince of Hell, whom had once struck down the great Elvish Lord Roharadon and his legions, whom had sacked the ancient capital of the Empire and split the continent in two with great arrows and spells from above, the commander of legions of imps that had killed countless soldiers of the Grand Army of the Imperium...
Was Human.
"It's okay Marie. They won't ever hurt you again, now that I've been given my second chance."
Kassaran t1_j2edo0p wrote
Reply to [WP] As a young wizard you uncovered an old spell that resurrects one of your eldest ancestor. You do so in curiosity, only to face one of the most feared creature the world ever experienced thousands of years ago. The creature recognizes you as its descendant while you stare at it in disbelief. by Noxxi_Greenrose
Fascination was betrayed in the wide saucers that were my eyes. Dim flickers of candlelight and dying embers of the once roaring hearth, shone only in faint hues of crimson and citrine. The Ancestor was vaguely familiar in shape, but the features of the beast were entirely fantastical and unnatural. Over the thin shrieks of the window outside my chamber, the soft, shallow breaths of the demonic Ancestor were all that could be heard. My breath had caught within my chest and my heart had seemed to cease it's hammering against my bosom.
The summoning circle had long since ceased to glow with the enchanting magic, the now scorched ash and soot of the materials being swept by some hitherto unknown force into the corners and crevices of the wooden floor. The stirring of the beast drew my attention to the hideous face it held. A single long probuscis dangled loosely upon it's chest and multifaceted beetle black eyes sat on either side of its head.
I knew the spell's side effects on the entity would soon give way and it would awaken. Quick hands, practiced and trained in the most basic elements of the summoning arts spread the salt and protective willow charms I had made for this purpose. A quick glance to the demon's head revealed a series of runes had become visible upon it's forehead between two armored stumps where horns must have once been.
Though the language was ancient, the runes archaic, the name they spelled brought a new, fresh wave of fear into my heart. Professors, scholars, teachers and tutors alike, with my father's patronage having afforded all manner of education and enlightenment for me in my youth, had warned of this name. A fierce, insectoid prince of Hell, a king of all scourges and pestilence, the gluttonous lord of flies.
"Beelzebub."
My voice had been soft, barely a whisper, but the simple utterance I'd given had lent a sudden start to the demon prince of Hell. Fear, confusion, amazement, all flooded through me as I tried to understand how this was my Ancestor. Had I made a mistake? Written a rune wrong? Spake a syllable in the ritual chanting and recitation incorrectly? I had known this spell was unlikely to be successful, and had been warned it may be dangerous, but my damnable curiosity had driven me to this moment. This would be my final achievement in life and yet also a resounding failure as there was no doubt I'd be soon dragged back into the depths of hell. Charms and scripture could only protect me so long.
"Yeah?'
I felt my body freeze, my hands turning clammy, and my heart dropping as the demon slowly revived and sat up. Those terrible, horrible, shining black eyes turned to look at me, into me, past me. They showed nothing but my own reflection a thousand times framed and silhouetted against the now fading firelight. I attempted to take a step back, but the demon was standing quickly, with speed beyond what even I would have expected of someone pulled through time and space. But the laws of the universe did not obey a being such as this Beelzebub.
"Wait."
The voice bade me to stop, to halt and wait it emanated from the base of the probuscis which seemed to undulate and swing freely, the end of which I now noticed tucked up and behind the demon. A large hand rose in an outward faced palm, and I raised my wand in defiance against the spell that was soon to come. But it never did, rather a second hand rose to side of the demons head and in an instant my mind was racked with confusion, relief, curiosity, and fear all over again.
"What is your name child?"
I felt a flood of questions and a wave of emotion wash over me as the deep voice spoke and filled the room. My eyes peering deep into the two pools of hazel that had once been hidden behind the insect-like plates. Comfort, sadness, heat and chills spread two fold as I swallowed back my fear and whispered a single word in response.
"Marie."
Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies, Dread Demon Prince of Hell, whom had once struck down the great Elvish Lord Roharadon and his legions, whom had sacked the ancient capital of the Empire and split the continent in two with great arrows and spells from above, the commander of legions of imps that had killed countless soldiers of the Grand Army of the Imperium...
Was Human.
"It's okay Marie. They won't ever hurt you again, now that I've been given my second chance."