Alastor
When Charlie left the hotel in a flash of fire for whatever had caught the princess' attention, he was naturally curious. Who wouldn't be when his latest source of entertainment took off with such flair?
But when Lucifer appeared in the lobby with a deep frown on his face?
Something big was happening. Lucifer did not ask questions. Merely stood in the center of the lobby, paying no attention to anyone's inquiries.
Alastor leaned back in his chair. He doubted the fallen angel would rise to any of his goading at the moment.
The question is, why?
How fun, for once, Alastor was utterly in the dark. This could prove very entertaining indeed.
He felt a pause, however, when Charlie returned with a young human child in her arms. The princess's look was a carefully controlled smile that did little to belie the boiling rage beneath her smiling exterior.
Impressive. He hadn't thought the princess capable of wielding a smile like that, but clearly, he had underestimated the princess a tad. Her potential was growing with every passing second, wasn't it?
Now, the way that Lucifer immediately asked for the child to be set on the bar so he could examine her was interesting.
Alastor was humming a tune under his breath as he watched the Ruler of Hell make a little rubber duck appear to ease the child's tension.
"Who is she?" he heard Lucifer ask his daughter. A question that had everyone curious, Alastor was sure. The princess's response cut out the music his mic produced with a sharp scratch as Alastor focused on the child.
"This is Aconite; she's Alastor's great-granddaughter."
"What?" he had to ask; surely he had misheard Charlie? There must be cotton in his ears because there is no possible way that what he had heard was what she had said.
"She's your descendant, Alastor...it's why I was pulled to her by magic. You couldn't answer the call yourself, so magic pulled me." The princess of Hell reiterated, and Alastor's mind raced.
He was not inclined to carnal pursuits, but it did not mean he had never performed such acts. And in his memories from his time as a human, there was only one incident that could have resulted in a child, but that was a drunken affair when he'd imbibed too much hooch.
Then again, the saying is, 'It only takes once.' His eyes rake over the small child, looking for any traits that looked familiar. It was slight, but the shape of her eyes looked like his beloved mother's, the cut of her chin perhaps.
A descendent, isn't that something? And that she possessed magic; he hadn't inherited much from his beloved mother, not enough to be taught at one of those fancy magic schools. But he preferred his mother's type anyway. Voodoo and the like. Traditional. Ritualistic.
None of that silly wand-waving. And if the child's magic had tried to pull on him only to get Charlie, that meant that blood magic was involved. Protective blood magic, but blood magic all the same. It wanted a protector that would go to any lengths to defend its wielder. But why him? Surely, there were others, unless.
Did the child, no Charlie said her name was Aconite, a lovely name with beautiful and deadly connotations, did Aconite's magic specifically call upon Hell?
Alastor was snapped out of his pondering when he heard Lucifer address him.
"Alastor, would you be able to perform a cleansing ritual?" Lucifer asked him softly, his gaze turning to Alastor. Ensuring his smile was as wide and enigmatic as always, Alastor spoke with confidence.
"It would be my absolute pleasure. Please, give me a few moments to prepare." Alastor purred as he sunk into his shadows.
He'd have to prepare a custom ritual; he'd heard Lucifer mention a Horcrux. A nasty thing. But useful if he used the ritual to strip the soul shard of its powers and give them to his descendent.
It took him hours to prepare the ritual room within the hotel, which was a guest room he was repurposing for his needs. It had been cleared of all furniture as his shadows helped him painstakingly carve runes and sigils into the floor, walls, and ceiling. He was using symbols from various practices, carefully weaving them together so that they melded into a perfect web of protection and cleansing. He was even throwing in some Enochian sigils for extra measure.
He was quite pleased with the result as he reviewed his work. One of his best. The only damper on his jolly mood is the reason he needed to use this masterpiece of a ritual in the first place. All that was needed now was young Aconite and a feather from Lucifer.
Returning to the lobby, he found his great-granddaughter curled up asleep in Charlie's arms, and he softly cleared his throat, his hands gently clasping the top of his mic staff.
"It is ready; all that remains is for the little one to be placed in the center and a feather from yourself, Your Majesty." Alastor addresses, for once, being a bit more respectful of the short king.
"It will be destroyed in the cleansing?" Lucifer inquires, as his feather could hold great significance in more than just this ritual.
"It shall," Alastor confirmed; normally, he would have tried to lie, but not this time.
Lucifer nodded at this as Charlie stood up carefully so as not to wake the child in her arms. Alastor led them to the ritual room. Charlie and Lucifer both carefully looked over the arrangement of symbols before the princess asked a question.
"This won't hurt her, will it?" Charlie asked, looking down at the child in her arms.
"Momentarily, but it will be quick. A cleansing of this caliber is never pleasant. It is fortunate that we will do this now, as opposed to when she is older. Less time for any bindings or negative effects of the Horcrux to imbed themselves in her soul." Alastor said calmly as he held his arms out to Charlie to pass his grandchild to him.
Lucifer placed a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder; what the Radio Demon had said was true.
Charlie frowned, not liking the idea at all, but understood the importance, so she carefully passed Aconite to Alastor.
Alastor tucked the child to his chest, disliking how tiny and light she was, and gently shook her slightly to wake her. Wide green eyes sleepily blinked at him, looking up at him curiously.
"Alwastor?"
"Terribly sorry, my dear, but I need you awake for this cleansing ritual."
"What's that?"
"It is a magic ritual to remove anything binding or harming your soul, my dear. I will not lie; it will hurt a bit, but the pain will pass quickly." Alastor explained, his radio static fading for the most part to show how serious he was being.
"Okay," Aconite responded, and Alastor would have thought her too trusting if it wasn't for the sharp pinch of magic poking against him. So the child's magic was actively sentient then, acting as a sixth sense of sorts for the child's benefit.
With her consent, Alastor walked to the center of the ritual, setting her on the floor and telling her to sit still as his shadows brought over a bowl of his blood mixed with herbs and other substances. He asked for her hand, gently cutting her palm with one of his claws once he warned her.
His blood for the catalyst, her's for the focus.
He healed the cut with a wave of his hand before elegantly and swiftly painting matching runes and sigils on Aconite's skin with a feather provided by Lucifer. This ritual would work best if the child was skyclad, but he wasn't going to push her.
She saved him the trouble, as he was about to paint across her arms, by removing her oversized shirt and revealing it was all she had on save for her underwear.
If Alastor wasn't a master of controlling his reactions, the scars on her tiny body would have made him frown and even swear. Charlie had turned her face away, Lucifer hugging his daughter as he frowned at the various scars on Aconite's body.
Yes, he was going to gift the souls of the ones responsible to Alastor.
With the professionalism granted from decades, both alive and dead, as a Radio Host, Alastor continued his task, dipping the white and red feather into the mixture as needed until every inch of Aconite's body was coated in the required symbols in elegant lines weaved across her skin.
Satisfied, he stepped back, internally praising Acnoite for her ability to remain almost perfectly still as he stepped outside the circle. In the same breath, he wanted to swear because that ability to stay so still only came from years of abuse.
No more. She was his. If anyone tried to harm her again from this point on, he would tear their souls apart slowly and broadcast their screams for all of Hell to hear and instill a new level of fear in every miserable wretch that dared to cross him or harm her again.
Taking a deep breath as he stood outside the circle, he asked, "Are you ready, my dear? Remember, the pain will be brief." The resolute nod he got, in turn, made him proud of the child's moxie.
So he activated the ritual with a soft chant, the room's candles flickering wildly as the symbols glowed with an eerie green light he was known for.
Charlie was thankful that her father was holding her because while it was short, Aconite let out a scream of agony as the ritual took effect. If not for her father holding her back, despite knowing that Aconite was safe, Charlie would have rushed into the circle and interrupted the ritual, which would have done who knows what.
When the light fades, Aconite is lying prone on the floor in the center of the ritual circle; the symbols fade from her skin as she sleeps peacefully.
Alastor walks over to her, gently picking up his great-grandchild and letting out a little hum as he sees the black tar-like substance that has bled from her forehead scar. He wipes it away, satisfied that the sowlio rune-shaped scar is no longer in the angry, inflamed state it had been before and now faded as a years-old scar should be.
One thing he had not expected was that there were now little white spots, akin to a fawn's spots, in her hair. A few resided on her cheeks too.
Examining her with a quick wave of shadow magic, he was amused to find that she was not fully human anymore. That was not an intended effect of the ritual, but it seemed that in an effort to assist her, Aconite's magic had used the admittedly overpowered cleansing to change her.
She wasn't a wendigo-like creature. No, she was something else, deer associated like himself, but different. It was Lucifer who answered his ponderings.
"A peryton...how interesting."
"What's a peryton, Dad?" Charlie asked, unfamiliar with the term.
"They are creatures that could arguably be called Earthborn Demons. They have multiple forms like we do: a base form and their true form. Perytons have the bodies of deer, the wings of eagles, and the teeth of wolves. In their true from their shadow always looks human. They have a particular proclivity for human hearts." Lucifer answers, and Alastor is amused.
So his diet would not be off-putting for his great-grandchild.
"Is there anything else of particular note?" Alastor inquired as he used his magic to dress Aconite in a nightgown
"I have run into few perytons, but I can say this. She will more than likely be able to use your magic quite easily, particularly the shadows." Lucifer offered.
Interesting and exciting.
"That is for later, though; I shall take Aconite to my rooms and stay with her. There is a chance her transformation is not finished. If you'll excuse me?" Alastor said, adjusting his hold on Aconite, and Lucifer nodded.
"Of course, I will clean up the ritual; stay with her, Alastor. I will take the time to compile all my information on perytons so you know what to expect."
Lucifer offered as Alastor nodded, walking out of the room and heading for his rooms.
Upon arrival, he tucked Aconite into the rarely used bed and summoned a book to read as he watched over her, keeping a careful eye on her as she slept off the ritual.
He was curious how she was going to react to her new inhuman status. But from the scars littering her form, he'd imagine she wouldn't have many complaints.