Information

Lucias
Legacy Name: Lucias

The Reborn Jollin
Owner: metal

Age: 13 years, 5 months, 6 days

Born: November 27th, 2010

Adopted: 13 years, 5 months, 6 days ago

Adopted: November 27th, 2010

Statistics

• Level: 1
   
• Strength: 10
   
• Defense: 10
   
• Speed: 10
   
• Health: 10
   
• HP: 10/10
   
• Intelligence: 0
   
• Books Read: 0
• Food Eaten: 0
• Job: Unemployed

Eyelids fluttered as Lucias' elbow slipped, his head almost colliding with the page he'd been reading over and over for the last hour. He'd lost count of how many times he had fallen asleep while reading this spell book. Lucias could never manage to read more than a few chapters at a time before his brain simply shut off and decided it was nap-time. It wasn't that the text was boring, just translating this specific dialect of scripture in his head and trying to comprehend its meaning at the same time was draining. This whole book was beginning to seem like a waste of time; plant magic wasn't even the main focus. It was all history, theory and then the odd charm thrown in.

He turned the page reluctantly, tapping his quill against his temple, unsure as to how much more he could read before he fell asleep again. It didn't help that he was going to be tested next week and his master had said that everything he needed to know was in this book. If he kept falling asleep, there was no way he would get enough notes written down and memorised to pass.

"...The quality of your spells can be affected by your mood and your body's energy.." Lucias mumbled, skipping to the next page in frustration. This page was different to what he had read so far. The dialect was somehow strange and the pages themselves had been scribbled on messily. Lucias leaned over the book more, intrigued by the unusual ink notations. Running his fingers over the fine print, he tried to make out the words.

"Irictus a mortum, post marum ipsia-" He cut off, his brow furrowing in thought, eyes reading over the page rapidly. It seemed he'd found another spell, but what it was for... still eluded him. Lucias scanned over more of the passage, struggling to translate the ancient language. He had never seen anything like this before. Certain words. Specific phrases. His translations had to be wrong... The same sorts of words kept popping up. Sulfur. Flames. Ash... Devil had come up several times, sending a chill down his spine. Lucias put the book down, rubbing his face with his hand. This whole page... Its contents. It sounded like some kind of demonic spell. Just what was something like this doing in a ruddy old spell book?

Lucias knew this kind of magic existed, hell, he'd even been interested in studying it, secretly of course. To think that it could be stumbled upon so casually was a little disconcerting though. Anybody could find it and have the nerve to give it a go. Not a bad thought really, but awfully careless.

Black magic was completely forbidden in most parts of the world, including his. Its strengths and lack of weaknesses had been assessed long ago and found to be too great for the average sorcerer. The greats of the old era took it upon themselves to create a new law, proclaiming that any person found to be using or learning the dark magic would be sentenced to death. Every dark text in the land was destroyed in The Great Fire as soon as the word spread, even books that were centuries old and treasured by many scholars were burnt to a crisp.

How had this book been left untouched, especially with it in the possession of one of the King's Royal Entourage... Did the King know about this? Did his Earth Master even know about this? Lucias wasn't sure if he had it in him to ask. If his Master didn't know what this book contained, he would without a doubt stay true to the King and destroy it, but if he did know... What would he do if Lucias confronted him? The man wasn't getting any kinder in his old age. His unpredictable mentality didn't help brighten the probable outcome; neither one was appealing in the slightest. It seemed his only choice was to keep what he had found to himself rather than risk the exposure.

Lucias glared down at his blemished parchment, just now seeing how tightly he was holding his quill. While he had been sorting through these trivial thoughts, he must have tightened his grip unconsciously. It was a wonder the fragile feather hadn't snapped in two. He placed it back into the inkwell with a sigh, opening and closing his fist with a stern look upon his face. He would lie to his Master and say he had misplaced the book when asked to return it. The old man would forget about it soon enough, leaving Lucias to examine the demonic excerpt at his own leisure.

An unsettling laugh followed by questionable mumbling interrupted Lucias' silent plotting. If he didn't know better he would have never guessed his friend could sound so dark, even sinister. He turned around in his chair to see Teivell glaring at a large volume, sipping back on yet another glass of wine. Lucias opened his mouth to spout a smart-alec comment about just how much wine the other had had tonight, but thought better. He had much more pressing things to do, and silently turned back to his ancient discovery.

He ran his fingers over the scripture in thought, admiring the way the creator had taken the care to imprint the golden letters into the page. Such a precious piece of writing. He would be keeping this book very close from now on, hidden from his master. Hidden from everyone. A thought occurred to him as he gave a shifty glance over his shoulder. Teivell was still lounging nearby in his favourite chair. Lucias knew he was a strange person, but his friend was too. They shared the same intrigue over various obscure things... He wondered...

Quietly leaving his untidy desk, Lucias went to join his friend with the spell book in hand. He placed the book over Teivell's large volume, open on the diabolical page. He tapped a section with a curious smile.

"What do you think of this?"

Lucias stood back from the artwork he had spent four hours on, making sure each symbol was precise and identical to the smaller version pictured in his grimoire. Everything looked the same apart from the tiny purple candles they had yet to light, positioned at each point of the pentagram. The instructions were very specific to the size, shape and even colour of the candles; it had taken a few weeks and quite a bit of pocket change to acquire exactly what they were looking for.

On first reading, Lucias has thought that any old candles would suffice. What did it matter what colour the candles were? The demon undoubtedly would not care. Unless of course this demon was some kind of picky interior castle designer or maybe had some kind of obsessive compulsive disorder... Lucias was highly skeptical about the accuracy this enchantment really required. That was until he had read several other spells describing in graphic detail the consequences the conjurer would suffer if one did not adhere to every last minute detail. After only a few tales of horror and deformity, Lucias had become the one whom wanted everything absolutely perfect. He may not be as vain to care too much about his looks, but boils and rotting flesh sounded rather noticeable, which was the last thing the pair wanted when they had been dabbling in the forbidden arts.

Lucias read through the scripture once more, moving about the room, triple checking everything like a firefly hovering around a lantern.

"Okay. I've followed the instructions from the passage," Lucias said excitedly, grabbing the matches and moving over to the demonic symbol on the ground. "As long as I've translated this correctly, it should work."

"Should." Teivell was standing nearby, watching with his arms crossed. Lucias hadn't quite decided if his expression meant he was amused or completely against the whole ridiculous experiment; Either way, it gave Lucias the encouragement to continue.

"Yes. Should," he laughed, lighting the final candle and coming to stand next to his friend. He finally looked up from the large grimoire still in hand to admire his handiwork.

"We're really doing this." Teivell stated as if trying to convince himself that what they were about to do was real.

"Yes, we are really doing this," thumb rubbing the large copper pendant dangling about his neck. "I wonder if demons like biscuits..." Lucias trailed off as he thought about rushing upstairs to fetch a last minute snack for their incoming demonic guest.

"Allocer is supposedly a Great Duke of Hell, reigning over thirty-six legions of demons. I don't think he's going to be too bothered if we don't offer him something to eat." Teivell was staring at the artwork before him as if with great difficulty. "That is, if he even decides to show up."

"What kind of ass is this demon to not show up?"

"The kind that could probably damn us to hell if he so wished. The Grimoire mentioned demons denying summons."

"Well let's hope he's in a good mood then." The cheerful tone in Lucias' voice had dulled to a serious throb. If he did not read the incantation correctly, all hell could break loose, figuratively and quite literally. Taking a shaky deep breath, he began to read from a bookmarked passage.

"...Lorem ipetsum, Allocer marisum a potemus ne pro impetus musquana demoneus. Adipisci de graeci lorem choro maiest alis-" Lucias paused for a moment as he felt a distant rumble beneath his feet. He took a quick glance at Teivell who had become as stiff as a board next to him. His roomate gave a forced nod for him to continue, and so he did.

The scribbled incantation was coming to an end. Though not even a page long, it felt as if he had been reading aloud for near an hour. The empty glass shelving around them had begun to shake violently with each obscure word spoken, even the wooden bookshelves fastened securely to the walls vibrated on their hinges. The whole house seemed to be resisting itself, as if trying to keep something out. Something that could not be stopped by mere walls or the ground beneath their feet.

Lucias' hair stood up on end when all the candles went out leaving them in a pit of darkness. The two stood for a moment, unsure of themselves and their surroundings, both silent. Had he done it right? Had he glossed over something in the instructions? The vibrations began to slow. Lucias got the feeling that he'd gone wrong somewhere. Soon, he knew, his face would break out into boils and reek of death thus revealing to his teaching master his terrific sin, until a lone flickering flame appeared. A brilliant powder blue flame burning the top most candle of the pentagram. It waved at him in defiance. He'd barely had a moment to ponder what had just happened when the symbol itself burst into molten rock, debris flying everywhere as if something had hit it from underground. The explosion-like burst threw him and Teivell backwards, slamming them into the wall directly behind them. Lucias had covered his face in alarm, shielding his eyes from whatever lay beyond, but soon brushed himself off and desperately tried to see the destruction around him. He squinted in the direction of his ruined artwork, making out a vague shape, clouded by shadow.

"Hello?"
"I'm fine, thanks for asking," Teivell coughed somewhere to his right.
"No... No not you..."

He heard his roomate shuffling around, heaving himself to his feet. Lucias thought to do the same, but found himself staring at the odd shape from across the room. The rest of the candles lit themselves and suddenly it was a mad scramble for his spell book. He felt around in the dim blue glow amongst rubble and dirt and god knows what else until he felt the edge of a familiar grimoire. Lucias feverishly flipped through the pages, searching for the passage he had been reading from. Wind-like fingers pulled the book from his hands and snapped it open with a crack, correct pages found and displayed within an instant. Teivell was by his side once more, looking much less composed than he had been a few minutes ago, but composed none-the-less.

"Did something just come out of the fl-" Teivel began.
"Yes."
"And it made the book-"
"I think so."

They both looked over to the floating mass, hovering in the near darkness above the pentagram. Bizarrely, the ground had apparently not erupted as the floor, completely intact with symbol perfectly crafted, stood before them. Unsure of what to do next, Lucias referred to the passage again.

"Art thou... Allocer?" he questioned in the general direction of the shadow.

A great song of cracks resounded about the room. Peeling noises, dull thuds followed by an astounding light revealed something emerging from a dark shell. From a shroud of red-purple flames came a tremendously horned head, all teeth and spikes and visible fire burning beneath charred flesh. Magnificent thorned chest thrust forward proudly as it settled within the artisian circle on the ground. Taller than any man Lucias had ever seen, this beast stood around nine feet, enormous curved horns on top of that almost scraping the ceiling of what used to be their basement. Two pairs of deep black eyes glared back at him filled with fire and brimstone. Lucias could feel the heat emanating from this being as if his hand rested upon it's burning breast, delving deeper into the impossible fiery cavernous pit that fueled its veins.

Gathering whatever was left of his being, Lucias asked again. "Are you Allocer?"

Its mouth curled with spite, forming an expression he did not understand.

"I am Allocer."

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