Rolomel smiled at her, she was evidently tense and a bit scared. That was a good mindset, especially as it was her first time entering another world. It made him a bit reluctant of bringing her along, a summon meant for him couldnt be anything but sinister. Even when it was as an angel, they rituals seldom showed anything but the need for power. But if she broke, he could always seal her memory and take her back. *And lose my fun, Id rather not.* He looked back at the portal that he was halfway submerged in, Emily still hadnt touched it, he didnt feel like causing her unnecessary unrest. Either way, no matter what kind of world it was, it would burn. He had restrained himself for too long. The tranquility of Emilys world had made him realize that.
"See you on the other side, Emily Carver. Watch and observe, if you can stomach it." There was no taunt in the words, only an advice that may keep her sanity intact. His voice had gained a depth and an evil texture that would induce terror if he so wanted. But for Emily he intended no such fear, and she only felt its taste.
Then he let them fall through the portal, the experience apart from the initial submerging like being stretched out, the fabric of the world they entered moving them to the origin of the ritual reaching for Rolomel. Their bodies subjects to the weight of travelling through the world in an instant.
When they stopped feeling of nauseousness tried to stick on them, their hands and feet numb from the friction of being brought there.
Rolomel opened his eyes, taking in the scene before him. A sinister smile parting his jaws, the hand that Emily was still seated in gripping a little tighter. This would be fun.
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The vast cave was lit by the smoking cauldrons placed around the ritual site. Their burning contents giving of a bluish cast and an intoxicating fume, meant to have the lesser minds present from realising what the warlock tried to summon before it was too late.
The shadows cast by the fires making it seem like they were underwater. With the area of the big summoning circle upon the rised earth and the sacrificial altar just outside of its lines further illuminated by wisp-like orbs of purple light. Only strengthening the feeling of surreality.
The fear permenting the air was thick enough to be touched, mixing with the sobs of the young men and women yet to be slaughtered and the erratical screams of pleasure from those of them crazed into fullfilling their primal desires. All of it encased in the madness inducing chanting from the warlock and his acolytes, and layered with the rusted sweetness of the sacrifices blood.
The swirling knife in the warlocks hand gleamed in the changing light as he waited for the thralls to bring the next offering for the entity. Its circles of runic symbols drenched in the red liquid. The presence of contained power making the air shimmer, flames flickered into existance as the summoning grabbed hold of the devils attention, the traces of its essence reaching out with the potent energies of all the fear and destruction. The ritual was nearing completion.
He had slaved for this moment all of his adult life, the endless work and suffering of 22 long years finally bearing fruit. He felt a mad grin splitting his face, the ritualistic symbols drewn in blood and merrow upon the scarred body making him appear like a demon himself. He could taste the sacred commitment his followers held for him, they were more scared of him than the embodiment of terror he was going to summon and bend to his will. *Fools! My powers after this night will pale what measly awe you feel right now.* For them and the inferior knowledge they held the ritual was only meant to summon a lord demon of rage and fearsome powers. Knowing nothing of the role their own lives were to play in his rise to dominion.
Every red moon for the last 17 years he been spent charging the greed of the devils essence, offering the lives of his filthy followers. The idiocy and blind thirst for petty powers they harboured had amased him in every place he had found them. These worthless excuses for mages and witches he had taken from their rightfull place in the gutters and thieveries of this godforsaken world.
He could see the streams of true power flow into the eleven circles and the runic seals filling each layer of it when he carved out the heart of the next sacrifice, a girl who couldnt be more than 16 this time, her ending scream made him shudder in extacy. The blood that spewed upon him joining the demonic symbols. The seven-pointed star in the innermost circle for the first time burning of the essence calling out to its origin.
The acolytes thought that the purple wisps were nothing but another part of the ritual. But he could see the otherwordly power that coursed within their glow. They were parts of the being he would summon. The new depth of power they granted him already enough to rival any measly grand wizard. But after this was done, he would be a god in his own right. Able to eradicate and crush all opposing forces. He, MELKANAS! Would rule the world, and everyone would bow and cover in fear.
Suddenly he could feel the atmosphere around him change, the primal energy of the mad orgy, the fear of the young, their lifesblood, the fires of the cauldrons and the magic he and his followers were chanting into the ritual condense into a thick miasma that gathered over the circles. The seven wisps holding the devils essence pulsating as the miasma made the summoning possible. Melkanas brought all the power he could hold into his words as he shouted the initiation of the true summoning.
"I CALL UPON THEE, MEQT BESPOKEN! WITH MY NAME I SEEK THEE, MEQT FORGOTTEN! YOUR ESSENCE TO BIND THEE, MEQT UNBROKEN! YOUR EQUAL, MELKANAS! I BID THEE, BY YOUR NAMES, TREADER, DEFIER, ENDLESS DESTROYER! APPEAR BEFORE ME, TO MY TRIBUTE, I TRADE ALL, MEQT NOLAVERIGOSTH!" He saw the wisps strike rays of fire into the miasma of the circles. And then there was a rush of wind and the ground trembled underneath him. There was something in the seven-pointed star, a feeling of passing, Melkanas knew it to be a gate, a portal to whatever realm nourished the devil.
For minutes the gate only stood there, he could sense the essences still reaching through it. Some of his akolytes had fallen on their knees, not able to handle the miasma. He still kept their chanting strong, not wanting to risk the gate closing.
Suddenly a deep bellow was heard, and the gate burst into a sea of purple fire, barely contained by the whole of the circles. Melkanas struck a quick warding in front of him. But some of his followers fell to ash, their lives seemingly eaten by the fire, it was like what happened when the wisps were given a sacrifice. Melkanas brought his full concentration towards the circles, and their purpose to hold the devil restrained, nothing he did would keep him safe if the being known as Nolaverigosth was set free upon whoever summoned him.
The flames turned into smoke, and inside it, two burning embers. It was as if all thoughts of hope left the sacrificial subjects, their sudden silence eerie. The air felt like lead beneath the eyes, some of the akolytes losing conciousness. Melkanas prepared himself for what he knew would come.