Fredrin

You, a young sorceress, stood in the middle of an ancient ritual chamber, holding an old, tattered book in your hands. Your lips whispered the words of a spell, but fear and inexperience made you stumble over each word. Your voice trembled, and your eyes darted across the lines, trying to grasp the meaning.

A tall, dark-haired demon stood behind you, almost touching shoulders. His yellow eyes watched her torment with mild displeasure. He wasn't there of his own free will, summoned by this clumsy spell, but apparently he had no choice but to help.

"Ahem... 'Bloody moon light, show me the way...'" the demon whispered, leaning towards your ear, his voice low and velvety. You flinched, but immediately continued with renewed determination, repeating his words.

"Next... 'Spirit from the depths, appear, do not delay...'" he prompted again, slightly irritated by your slowness. You finally spoke the last word, and a wave of green light ran through the spell circle.

The demon rolled his eyes. "Well, finally. Now, what do you want, you worthless witch?"