//------------------------------// // Ch. 08; An Apple a Day Keeps the Summoners Away // Story: A Demon In Equestria // by Dorath //------------------------------// HellCaller bolted upright in bed, her face twisted in a snarl, only to relax as the lingering traces of magic faded. :‘Caller?: the demoness’ soulblade murmured, her telepathic voice still muzzy with sleep, :Vhat is it?: :Someone just attempted to summon a greater demon,: ‘Caller’s replied, jolting Kragor fully awake, :Spell vasn’t directed at any particular demon, so it tried to snag us.: :A ritual strong enough for you to feel, even if you veren’t compelled to answer, is more than enough to call most balors or pit fiends,: the sword mused, :If the summoner vasn’t seeking a specific demon, than vhatever responded may vell be more than they are prepared to control.: :Even if ritual vas strong enough, ve are already bound,: 'Caller’s lip curled at the irony, :Thanks to Do Not Steal’s accursed ritual, I doubt ve can ever be forced to answer a summon again,: rising from her bed, ‘Caller headed for her closet and began to dress, her sleep was already ruined, “Vhoever they are, I got a glimpse of them, and they are here, in this Realm.” “You don’t think that they might have another grimoire … do you, ‘Caller?” “I’m not villing to take that chance,” 'Caller retorted, scooping up her sword as she headed for her scrying chamber. Luna shook her head in amusement as she left the dream bubble, ‘For one with such a well-developed ego to hath nightmares over romantic anxiety of all things,’ she thought, ‘Mayhaps I should encourage darling Cadance to start spreading her efforts beyond Canterlot … an advice for the lovelorn column in one of the newspapers, perchance?’ looking around, she strolled over to another, nearby, dream bubble, ‘I wonder what young Kragor is dreaming of tonight,’ but before entering the dream, the Princess of the Moon stopped as a thought occurred to her, ‘I hath never seen HellCaller’s dreams … does she wrap herself in wards such that I cannot perceive her imaginings? Or is her mind so different that I do not recognize her dreamscape when I see it?’ shrugging the notion away for another time, Luna entered the dream. A forest glade spread about the alicorn, the surrounding trees pack so tightly that they formed an impassible wall, while a thick layer of grass and moss covered the ground, near the center of the glade, a quartet of skeletons played instruments, while Kragor and several, very fluffy, rabbits danced to the macabre musicians’ music. “Hey, Luna!” the young mare waved, “Come and dance vith us!” With a smile and a small shrug, Luna joined the festivities. Hours later, but in truth only a few minutes thanks to dream manipulation, Luna led Kragor away from the still frolicking rabbits to a pair of seats, “Thou seem to be enjoying thyself most enthusiastically, young Kragor,” she observed, “Is there a particular reason for thy merriment?” “I’m just trying to get in as much dreaming as I can before ve go hunting tomorrow,” Kragor replied, “My sister doesn’t usually sleep much vhen she’s got bit between her teeth, and ‘Caller vants this summoner dealt vith.” “Summoner?” Luna's ears perked up, “What summoner might this be and why are thou seeking them out?” “Ve don’t know just vho she is, exactly, but vhomever she is, she did a demon summoning strong enough that ‘Caller felt it.” “While I can appreciate HellCaller’s and thine desire to confront this warlock, dealing with such ponies is the duty of the Night Guard and Magus Corps, not private individuals acting without Royal approval,” Luna objected with a frown, “It would be better for all if thy sister would work with the Magus Corps on this.” “Yeah, you can try telling ‘Caller that,” Kragor snorted, “Vhatever this summoner-pony is up too, her ritual vas strong enough to call a demon lordling or attract the attention of vorse.” “Do thou even know where to begin thy search?” Luna sighed. “Uh-huh,” the soulblade nodded, idly scratching the ears of one of the rabbits, “‘Caller got a look at summoner-pony vhen she tried to call us, and ‘Caller has been busy Scrying on her to get enough information to find her.” “Where is she, then?” “Near some place called Vhinnybridge … Luna? Luna, vhat’s vrong?” “There have been several disappearances from the village of Whinnybridge, a Magus was dispatched to help with the investigation,” the Princess of Night said grimly, “How long ago was this summoning attempted?” “Just this morning past.” “Then it is possible that the missing ponies may yet live,” Luna said, with a sharp nod, “The Magus will still be on the road, I will contact them and tell them to make all haste.” “I’ll vake up ‘Caller,” Kragor replied, her own face showing a combination of bleak resolve and unholy eagerness that made Luna's ears folded back in alarm, “Ve’ll be at Summoner-pony vithin hour.” “The Princesses, Zanobia and all the other divines take it,” Trixie groaned in annoyance, first her teacher spent most of the day closeted away in her chambers, now she was up in the middle of the night, disturbing the showmare’s sleep just when it had gone from nightmares to an exceptionally pleasant little fantasy about Twilight Sparkle. Rising from her bed with a huff, Trixie threw on her nightgown and stomped out to confront her tartarean Master, “The Weary and Fatigued Trixie is trying to sleep!” “Voops! Sorry, Trixie,” Kragor apologized, “Ve’ll be out of here in a minute and you can get back to bed.” The unicorn narrowed sleep-fuzzed eyes, “You’re up to something,” she accused, “Give Trixie a few minutes to dress and Trixie will be ready to accompany you.” ‘Caller made a short, chopping, gesture, “No.” “But Trixie is your apprentice,” Trixie protested, “Where you go, Trixie goes!” “You are not ready for this,” stated the demoness, “You vould be no more than sword fodder if one ve seek is as strong as I believe, and sword fodder only vorks in numbers,” seeing the showmare’s pout, ‘Caller’s voice softened ever so slightly, “Train and study, my Apprentice, your time vill come, likely sooner than you vish.” 'Caller clapped her hands together, “Now, it is time for us to be off. Jennuilt Zhin.” “Ow,” ‘Caller rubbed her forehead and shifted her limbs to try and ease the pain of displacement, “Someone in this fool Realm has figured out Forbiddance or a proper Dimensional Lock,” she grumbled. Looking around, 'Caller spied the tumbled wreckage of a recently razed village nearby, the occasional flame gleaming in the night among the ruins, “And I suspect that is Vhinnybridge.” “Ve should tell Luna and girls.” Kragor suggested. The demoness nodded, “Agreed, but first thing’s first. Discern Location.” When the ritual was finished, ‘Caller began a second for her Sending to Twilight: “Relay this information to your Princesses immediately. Whinnybridge in ruins, no survivors currently evident. Summoner is underground, two miles East-northeast of Whinnybridge. Proceeding on foot.” The prints of several great, clawed, feet and accompanying drag marks led 'Caller from the devastated village deep into a nearby forest and finally to an overgrown and, seemingly, long abandoned cemetery. The trail continued deeper into the boneyard, until finally ending at the suspiciously sturdy doors of a massive mausoleum. With a few words, she cast Arcane Sight and leaned forward to examine the portal. “Vell?” “No spelltraps,” 'Caller informed her soulblade, “Just Alarm spell and some symbol inscribed vith Arcane Mark.” “Really?” Kragor asked curiously, “Vhat does it look like?” “A ram’s head surrounded by a ring of fire,” ‘Caller replied absently, “It looks like Dimensional Lock doesn’t extend beyond doors, but vith that Alarm there is no vay to surprise vhatever is inside.” “Pity,” Kragor sighed, before giving a dark chuckle, “But like Linzi always said, ‘If you can’t be subtle ….’” “… ‘Then be memorable’,” 'Caller finished, with a grin of her own. Standing back up, she drew her blade and pointed at the great doors, “Disintegrate.” There was an odd “ping” sound, like metal cooling too fast, and the center of the doors simply disappeared in a puff of dust, leaving the outer leaves hanging from their hinges. Striding forward, the demoness entered a great hall, easily forty feet long, littered with rubble and the ravaged corpses of dozens of ponies, while a wide stairway descending into the earth at the far end. A host of withered, bestial ponies, including a number of fang-mouthed foals, looked up from where they had been feeding on the dead, while a quartet of fiendish-looking ponies, with coal-black scaled skins and horned skulls for heads, turned to glare at the intruder. Near the back wall, a massive reptilian biped, nearly twice the size of an ogre, reared up on a pair of cloven hooves and pointed a clawed finger at ‘Caller, “Destroy the interloper!” it roared in horribly accented Abyssal. “Must be some of local demon breeds,” 'Caller guessed as the throng surged forward, “Vell, let’s clear out rabble, shall ve? Horrid Vilting,” as the incantation rang out, the ghoulish ponies collapsed into small clouds of dust, while the five demons all recoiled in pain as their flesh withered and cracked. With a throaty laugh, she sprinted to the nearest of the skull-faced demons and lashed out with her sword, the eldritch blade tearing through the startled fiend’s scaly hide, two more blows pitched her opponent to the floor, smoke and ichor leaking from its wounds as the demon dissolved into a noxious mist. The equestrian demons seemed taken aback at the speed of ‘Caller’s assault, but quickly rallied; the three skull-headed demons enshrouded the demoness in a heavy haze of freezing, sickening, darkness, while the giant demon spoke a word of terrible, blasphemous power, but, to their dismay, 'Caller simple stood through their assault, one eyebrow raised, as Kragor’s giggles echoed through the vault, “Unholy Blight and Blasphemy are very effective spells against mortals,” she observed in Abyssal, “But they have no effect on other demons, I fear,” she favored the demons with a cold smile, “Chains of Fire.” A whirling bolt of flames streaked from ‘Caller’s hand to slam into the giant demon, before splashing out to strike the other three in turn. As the trio of smaller demons collapsed, the giant shimmered and teleported to the far side of the chamber, as the entire crypt filled with flames. The gigantic fiend began to grin, only for ‘Caller to burst out of the inferno, runes glowing along Kragor’s length, and send his head tumbling from his shoulders in a single swipe. Slapping out embers and the occasional flame, the demoness walked over to the stairwell, happily breathing in the smell of brimstone and burned meat that filled the chamber, as she looked over the doors blocking the stairs twenty feet below, :Huh, interior doors are almost identical to ones outside,: she relayed to her soulblade, :No spells on these, however, and symbol is openly etched into doors.: Carefully descending the steps, ‘Caller could barely make out voices, rendered unintelligible by distance and the thickness of the doors, while a gentle touch indicated that the doors were unsealed. Taking a firmer grip on her sword’s hilt, the demoness kicked the doors open and strode inside. The chamber was much like the mausoleum above, albeit more than twice as long, with another stairwell at the opposite end, and strewn with scattered rubble. Five cages holding terrified ponies lined the walls, while a pair of ponies in ritual robes chanted at a glowing ritual circle engraved onto the floor, finally, a half-dozen ghoulish ponies, more heavily built than the earlier ones, and a pair of decayed pony-angels hissed at the intruders. As the undead swarmed towards ‘Caller, a ghostly tentacle emerged from the glowing glyph and latched onto one of the prisoners, sending him into convulsions. “More riffraff,” 'Caller sneered, “Horrid Vilting,” she raised an eyebrow when, although visibly injured by the invocation, the cultists and their undead minions remained standing, “So, you’re tougher than I thought,” the demoness admitted, her blade lashing out to sever a ghoul’s reaching arm, “That just means that this vill be more fun!” The maimed ghoul quickly fell to ‘Caller’s hacking blows, its spraying blood searing whatever flesh it touched, only to be replaced as the pony writhing in the spectral tentacle’s grip transformed into another ghoul and fell upon a fellow prisoner. With an annoyed snarl, 'Caller rushed across the chamber, undead claws ripping at her armor. Two blows of her soulblade sheered through the cheap iron of the lock, allowing her to reach in and yank the startled ghoul out of the cage as the ethereal tendril lashed out to grab another pony as she flung the ghoul aside. With a swipe of Kragor, the demoness unleashed a churning wave of green and purple arcane energy that tore across the room, shearing through the ritual circle and the two cultists, leaving one laying broken upon the smashed and semi-molten stones, while the caged prisoners were left untouched, the otherworldly tentacle having vanished when the glyph was disrupted. “You cannot prevent the Demon Ram’s return, Faustian!” the remaining cultist shrilled, her horn glowing fuchsia as she threw a bolt of energy at ‘Caller, “The sacrifices will continue!” Twisting aside from the spell, 'Caller closed on the ranting cultist, her soulblade pounding through a hastily conjured shield, leaving the unicorn clutching a handful of her own entrails as she slumped to the ground, as the demoness flung a fireball at the oncoming undead. The already injured ghouls went up in flames, but the freshly turned ghoul and the rotted angels pressed forward; claws tearing, fangs gnashing, and whenever one of the angels managed to draw blood, the wound instantly mortified. “Chains of Fire,” once again the flames roared out, consuming the ghoul, who’s caustic, spurting blood charred more of ‘Caller’s skin, while a few sword strokes sufficed to deal with the corrupted angels as the burned. Turning away from the bodies littering the floor, 'Caller quickly scraped away the necrotic flesh from her wounds and bound them, only to pause on her way to the stairs as Kragor spoke up, “Vhat about ponies?” Glancing back at the caged prisoners, she shrugged, “Vhat about them?” “'Caller!” the spellblade groaned, “Vhat vould Fluttershy and girls vant us to do? Vhat vould Linzi vant us to do?” “Fine!” ‘Caller snapped, petulantly stomping over to the cages, she quickly hacked away the locks, before point her sword up the stairs, “Vay out is clear, for now,” the demoness said, “I think your Princess has people on their vay to Vhinnybridge, so you can vait for them there.” As the ponies hurried away as best they could, half-carrying their injured, ‘Caller turned back to the stairwell down, “Happy?” she grumbled. “Yes,” Kragor chirped, “So, vhat does next door look like?” “It has same symbol on it, only this time it glows, and doors have glyphs of varding on them.” “Sounds like it might be main chamber,” the soulblade suggested. “Could be,” 'Caller agreed, “Vhich means they’ll have been alerted by that Alarm, seeing as both of these halls vere oblivious.” Kragor hummed to herself, “Disintegrate doors again, maybe?” “Sounds good to me,” ‘Caller shrugged, pointing at the ensorcelled doors, “Disintegrate,” the demoness’ eyes darted about as she took in the revealed vault; as long as the previous chamber, if not so wide, four battered doors revealed the presence of side crypts, while a small cluster of rickety bookshelves filled one corner. A robed pegasus mare, partially healed burns visible on her muzzle, stood near the center of the hall, flanked by two more of the corrupted angels, while the mausoleum’s final occupant lounged upon a crude throne of rubble – a balor lordling, if ‘Caller did not miss her guess. Clad in nothing more than a loincloth and a heavy belt from which hung a flaming whip and a sword, the demon would stand twice ‘Caller’s height if erect, great, draconic, wings twitched idly, as flames raced over his scaled hide. A horned, equine, skull turned to regard the demoness with blazing eyes, “So this is our intruder … have you come to offer yourself to great Chethas the Depraved, little half-breed morsel? My new priestess could use some help satisfying my urges,” he added, waving at the mare, who shuddered. ‘Caller rolled her eyes at the demon’s offer, she had been propositioned by more powerful, and more appealing, entities many a time, and, frankly, her full-demon sisters’ blandishments had been far more enticing anyway, and for that matter, just how did a skull manage to leer? “I gather you are one vho put up Dimensional Lock?” “Oh, that? A simple precaution, nothing more, although it seems that such abjurations are beyond the understanding of these ponies,” Chethas waved the matter aside, “Now, Dominate Monster, strip off that armor, morsel, and present yourself before your Master, I want a better look at my new toy.” Strutting forward with an eager, even sultry, grin, the demoness began to fumble with the catches of her armor, only to stop and smirk up at the balor, “Horrid Vilting,” as the spell washed over the chamber, ‘Caller lunged forward, caving in the head of one of the corrupted angels, while a second strike crunched into the armor the pegasus wore beneath her robes, staggering the mare. “Cold Ice Strike,” she incanted, unleashing a shredding blast of jagged ice shards that knocked the cultist sprawling and slammed into the balor, ripping his flesh as he rose from his throne. Stepping forward, his great whip lashing in one fist, Chethas glared down at the brazen demoness who dared to defy him, “Implosion.” ‘Caller staggered, coughing blood, as the curse’s destructive resonance struck her, but she kept her feet, “Polar Ray,” she countered, a blue-white beam lancing from her hand to strike Chethas full in the chest, quickly encasing the demon in a layer of ice, “Cold Ice Strike,” a second spell blasted the remaining undead angel, throwing it to the ground in a broken heap even as its claws tore at her. The demoness took a deep breath, only to snap her head up at the shrill scream of breaking ice as the balor forced his way out of his glacial tomb, his whip lashing out to coil around ‘Caller and yank her into the demon’s fiery embrace, “Impudent bitch!” Chethas snarled, his sword smashing down to snap one of ‘Caller’s arms, even as her armor kept the blow from biting deep. ‘Caller didn’t deign to reply to the demon’s words, instead hurling another wave of pure eldritch energy that blasted the balor back through the shattered remnants of his throne. Spitting blood to the side, the demoness fixed Chethas with a glare as he rose back to his feet and spoke a single word of power, “Die.” At ‘Caller’s utterance, Chethas the Depraved, aspiring Abyssal Lord, died … and his body immediately exploded in a blast of unholy fire. Rising to her feet from where she had been thrown, ‘Caller winched as the burns that now covered half of her face, along with a host of other injuries, screamed at her, “At least that is done vith,” she groaned, her nose wrinkling at the acrid smell of burnt hair. A trace of movement in the corner of her eye brought the demoness twisting around, as the cultist rose to her feet with a shout, “Sawakhaetshii Grogar!” a flood of confusing images and emotions assaulted ‘Callers mind, dazing her as the psychic assault caused fresh blood to drip from her nose and ears. Drawing a leaf-bladed, enruned, short sword from beneath her robes, the mare rushed forward, driving her weapon through the armpit of the stunned demon’s armor, and deep into her lungs, “Feed great Grogar with your death, demon!” the pegasus spat, twisting her sword and bringing forth a great gout of blood. The cultist turned away, but was stopped by a hand gripping her shoulder, “It takes a bit more than that to kill me,” ‘Caller gurgled through the blood pouring from her mouth, “Maximized Vampiric Touch,” she sighed happily as her wounds closed and broken bones snapped back into place, before gazing at the mare who hung limply in her grasp, glazed eyes staring blankly, “I believe you mentioned feeding someone?” ‘Caller asked, her sword stabbing down, runes blazing, as Kragor devoured another soul. While Chethas’ death throes had destroyed the bookshelves and their contents, (‘Caller could just imagine Twilight’s grieving over the lost tomes) a search of the side chambers turned up a diary and a grimoire, along with camping supplies, several minor magical items, what turned out to be a Bag of Holding, and a large stash of healing potions and unguents, which the demoness dug into eagerly. Adding in what she plundered from the fallen cultists, and ‘Caller felt that she had acquired a nice, not great, but nice, little payday for her efforts. “Ve should probably make an account to somebody,” Kragor sighed, “I hate dealing vith paper-pushers and making reports that no one vill likely ever read,” she grumbled. “Oh, you poor baby,” ‘Caller mocked her sister, “Stuck listening to reports and testimonies, vhat horror, I had to vrite accursed things, and read them too! Come on, troops Luna vas sending vill hopefully reach Vhinnybridge soon, ve can make our reports to them.” The Sun was just beginning to rise as Princess Luna and her escort stepped out of the shadows in the ruins of what had once been a prosperous hamlet. Spotting the cluster of refugees being tended by the soldiers that had accompanied the Magus she had sent earlier, the alicorn directed her attendants, and the medicines and supplies they were carrying, to work. After receiving a full report from the Magus, Breezy Lake, she turned her attention to one final individual; an armored figure, perched lazily on the stump of a ruined wall as she read, and rather conspicuously avoided by the other ponies. “Hello, Luna!” chirped a metallic voice as the alicorn approached, “It’s nice to see you in vaking vorld instead of my dreams!” “Hello, young Kragor,” Luna replied warmly, as she eyed the soulblade’s elder sister, ‘Much as I had imagined her from the reports … but why does half of her head look freshly shaved? Is it some fashion thing? Maybe darling Cadance or gracious Rarity would know ….’ “And greetings to thou, as well, HellCaller,” the Lunar Diarch smiled at the demon. “Nice …,” 'Caller drawled as she openly ogled the Princess, “At least my little sister has good taste in vho she shares our secrets vith.” Luna bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement of both the implied rebuke and the, admittedly crude, compliment, “The situation was … most unusual,” she acknowledged, “And I truly hope we may leave the regretful matter in the past. Now, if thou would tell me what hast transpired here?” Rising from her seat with a nod, ‘Caller clasped her hands behind her back and began her report. “Vhen ve got back to town, you’re folk vere pretty freaked out by us, so that magus of yours, Lake I think it vas, asked us to vait off to side until you got here,” the demoness cocked her head slightly, “So … vho vere those cultists, anyway?” “Devotees of Grogar the Corruptor,” Luna replied with distaste, “Every time we think we have stamped out his foul sect, another cult will pop up.” “This might be of use to you, then,” ‘Caller suggested, offering the book she had been reading, “It vas diary of head cultist, some pegasus named Crimson Delight.” “Mine gratitude. Do thou know anything of the demon who usurped the cult?” “He vas Chethas Depraved, a minor demon lordling from back in my Realm, somehow Crimson's summons drew him here. Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t bind vhat she called up.” “‘Caller, give them other stuff,” Kragor urged with a weary sigh, "You know ve don't really need most of it, anyway," the grumbling demoness dug into her new bag and reluctantly handed over all the coinage and camping supplies, most of the minor magical items, and a fair portion of the remaining healing potions. “Thou hath mine gratitude, again,” Luna said, waving some of her guards over to take the provisions and other materials and oversee their distribution among the ponies of Whinnybridge, “These poor ponies will hath an easier time rebuilding thanks to thy generosity.” When the demon made no move to leave, but simply stood watching her, the Princess of the Night cocked an ear at HellCaller, “Was there something else that thou wished to discuss, or,” ‘What is that phrase darling Cadance uses?’ “Are thou merely enjoying the view?” “Mostly enjoying view,” 'Caller replied cheerfully, “But I vas curious vhy you used Shadow Valk to get here instead of just teleporting.” “Long range teleportation is most risky without a Gatehouse to serve as a beacon and secure arrival point,” Luna explained, “While a much rarer spell, and lacking Teleportation’s instantaneous movement, Shadow Walk is the sounder choice,” the alicorn frowned, “Unfortunately, most of the few ponies who do know Shadow Walk are usually warlocks or necromancers, which hast given the incantation an undeservedly wicked reputation.” “Huh,” ‘Caller grunted, “Vell, vhile I vould love to spend day flirting vith you, your Highness, I should get back and deal vith vhatever mischief my Apprentice has gotten herself in to. Jennuilt Zhin.”