Changes
It would take three days for Aconite to awaken from her magic-induced slumber.
Throughout this time, Alastor remained her silent sentinel; Aconite was vulnerable until she woke, and he took his newfound duty as her kin and protector seriously.
Already he was plotting on what to do with the fool who had placed a shard of his soul with her. A post-ritual exam revealed that the shard was impeding her development.
In fact, her lisp had a real chance of being caused by the presence of the shard. That isn't to say that Aconite might not have a lisp naturally, of course.
Many young children possessed lisps.
But having a shard of a man's soul who is at least seven decades older than his great-grandchild was the cause of a handful of her burdens. There had been several bindings on her magic at the hands of another, but the shard had been wearing Aconite's soul down. More than likely in an effort to possess her with time.
He would just have to await her awakening to see if she still possessed the lisp.
Alastor was currently sitting in his bedside chair, reading a file Lucifer had provided about Peryton.
Deer-like creatures indeed. According to what he was currently reading Peryton were, in fact, Earthborn Demons. Possessing the head, neck, forelegs, and antlers of a stag with the wings and hindquarters of a large bird. It wasn't always an eagle's plumage and wings, in contradiction with Lucifer's earlier statement.
Each Peryton could be different in the avian they took after. Eagles were merely the most common.
Peryton came in every color under the sun. Some had the tan fur of typical deer save for their plumage. Others had fur matching their feathers. Only time would tell which type Aconite followed.
Their teeth were always razor sharp, even as fawns. Ready to rend flesh from bone, with a bite force strong enough to eat said bone.
In some legends, Peryton only cast a human shadow until they killed a human. In others, they always possessed human shadows.
Males and females both grew antlers, unlike other cervids. There was no sexual dimorphism in Peryton, save for females being slightly smaller than the males.
Alastor had already made a trip to Cannibal town, with Charlie taking his place watching Aconite, to inform his dear friend and fellow Overlord Rosie he was in need of a shipment of Sinner's hearts, as Peryton fawns ate hearts exclusively.
Rosie didn't know just why he needed the hearts just yet. He was leaving that as a surprise, though he could hardly wait to see Rosie's surprised delight to discover she now had a great-grandniece to spoil rotten.
Alastor's ear flicked towards the bed at the soft groan that came from his sleeping great-grandchild. Turning his crimson gaze to the bed to see Aconite twitching as she showed signs of waking.
She yawned in a way that Alastor had to admit was cute, nose twitching as she sleepily blinked her eyes, dressing in one of Charlie's old nightgowns until Alastor could bring Aconite to Rosie's Emporium to get her a new wardrobe.
Her pupils were now slit, he noted, as they slid over the room in confusion. When her eyes landed on him, she tilted her little head in pondering before she seemed to recall who he was.
"Alastor?" she mumbled, one fist raising to rub at her tired eyes.
"Indeed, my dear," he responded, noting that she didn't have the lisp on his name.
"Did it work?" she asked, voice slightly timid, her little ears air planing back against her head.
To his amusement, she clearly felt the difference, her hands first touching the sides of her head to no longer feel her normal ears before moving up to her new ones, fingers feeling the velvety soft fur and odd shape.
Alastor made a point of swiveling his own ears to distract her from panicking, having been told by Charlie how Aconite thought she was a freak by her relatives, before speaking.
"Yes, it did, although magic decided to use the power of the ritual in order to help you adapt and survive here in Hell. Alastor began, closing the file on Peryton as he stood to move and sit on the bed.
"What?"
"It turned you into something decidedly not human. I am assuming that it is to give you protection while you reside in Hell, my dear."
Aconite's face became pinched as she took in this information, her eyes flitting over his face for any sign of lies before nodding hesitantly.
"Am I a demon like you now?" She asked, a reasonable conclusion, and her lisp had yet to make itself known again confirming his belief that the shard had caused it.
"No my little fawn, you are a being known as a Peryton. You are deer-like like myself, but I am a Wendigo demon. My dear, how well can you read?" He asked as the question served two purposes. She could read the information on her kind herself, and if not he was a sign of where she was educationally.
"I'm not able to read big words...Aunt Tuny didn't like it if I did better than Dudley. If I did, then Uncle Vernon would use his belt..." Aconite mumbled, her ears pinned against her head as she looked down at her lap.
Alastor hummed, showing he listed as he fought to keep his smile in place, he was becoming more and more disappointed with his descendants by the second. Charlie had told him about what she had come across in that home, that it was this 'Tuny' who was Aconite's blood aunt. His mother would roll in her grave if she knew that one of her blood was so vile. And that was saying something considering the things that Alastor had done, the monster he had become.
Alastor made his movements eye-catching as he reached out to gently place his hand on Aconite's head, understanding more than anyone how unwelcome touch could be. He, himself, only liked touch when he initiated it. So he watched Aconite for any sign she did not want him to touch her before his hand gently landed on her head, rubbing between her new ears.
"It is quite alright, my dear; you will never have to suffer such indignities again. It is okay to be behind in your letters, as the soul shard that had been in your scar what hindering your development. If you like, I can read this file with you, or I can read it." Alastor said softly making her nod.
"Please...read it for me? And what is a Wen...Wendigo?" She requested softly, looking up at him and his smile became a touch gentler as he moved to sit beside her against the headboard, tucking her into his side as he opened the file.
"A Wendigo is a Native American evil spirit. Specifically of Algonquian folklore, such as the Ojibwe, Saulteaux, Cree, Naskapi, and the Innu. In the lore, they are malevolent spirits, sometimes depicted as creatures with human-like characteristics, which possess human beings. Said to cause its victims a feeling of insatiable hunger, the desire to eat other humans, and the propensity to commit murder. In some representations, the Wendigo is described as a giant humanoid with a heart of ice, whose approach is signaled by a foul stench or sudden unreasonable chill. Descriptions of Wendigo can vary somewhat, common to all tales is the view of a Wendigo's malevolence and supernatural nature. Strongly associated with winter, the north, coldness, famine, and starvation."
Alastor begins, he had done a lot of research into his status as a Wendigo after his arrival in Hell, out of curiosity once he had placed what he was. Aconite was listening with apt attention, her eyes locked onto his face and her ears erect and facing him.
"One scholar, Basil H. Johnston, an Ojibwe teacher, gave this description of a Wendigo as they appear on Earth if they do. 'The Wendigo was gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tightly over its bones. With its bones pushing out against its skin, its complexion the ash-gray of death, and its eyes pushed back deep into their sockets, the Wendigo looked like a giant skeleton recently disinterred from the grave. What lips it had were tattered and blood...Unclean and suffering from suppuration of the flesh, the Wendigo gave off a strange and eerie odor of decay and composition, of death and corruption.'"
"What does suppuration mean?" Aconite asked curiously, knowing that questions would never be unwelcome with Alastor, though she was unsure of how to call him.
"Suppuration refers to the creation of pus, and pus is 'a thick yellowish or greenish opaque liquid produced in infected tissue, consisting of dead white blood cells and bacteria with tissue debris and serum' my dear," Alastor answered, pleased that she was already feeling comfortable enough to ask him questions.
"Now, in folklore, Wendigo are often born of men forced into committing cannibalism in times of harsh winters where food becomes scarce and famines. But in my case, I became a cannibal in my human life because of the harsh times as food shortages became common. And because once I started eating human flesh, I found I quite enjoyed the taste. It also made covering up my crimes much easier."
Alastor explained, watching for her reaction to his admission of cannibalism. Aconite tilted her head in thought. She didn't really have much of an opinion about him eating people, it was clear she was in no danger from him. And if it was done out of need at first, could she really judge him? If she had been faced with such a choice, what would she have done? It's better than starving, she decides.
"But you weren't a Wendigo in life?" She asks, receiving a shake of his head in return.
"No, I believe I became a Wendigo as a Demon because of how I died. I dislike my death, so I shall only say this once little fawn. I died after being shot by hunters when they mistook me for a deer while I was disposing of a body. I did not die immediately, and dogs were also involved. So if you had any notions of owning any of the foul pests, dismiss them from your mind." Alastor says a bit stiffly, and Aconite nods.
"I don't like dogs either. Uncle Vernon's sister has really mean ones. One chased me up a tree, and they wouldn't call it off, so when I fell out of the tree, it bit my leg." Aconite says, pulling her left leg out from under the covers and Alastor frowns at the nasty scar on her calf.
"Nasty beasts, aren't they? No matter, it will never happen again," Alastor assures, mentally adding another person to the list of humans he was going to terrorize in time. Aconite nods in agreement as Alastor turns his attention to the file, opening it and reading the information within to Aconite, his trans-Atlantic accent fading for the moment and his natural Baton Rouge accent becoming more pronounced.
"Your voice changed," Aconite notes, and Alastor chuckles.
"Indeed it did, the voice I typically speak with is the voice I used when I was a Radio Host in life. It's called trans-Atlantic. As a Radio Host, even now in Hell, I am always ready for my performances." Alastor explains to her before returning to reading the files.
Aconite listens to the information about Peryton with curiosity, seemingly not phased at the note that, as a fawn, to use the terminology properly, she needed to eat hearts now.
"Is it human hearts like a normal Peryton, or will demon hearts work?" she inquires.
"I do not know yet, my dear, so I have arranged for a friend of mine to bring some Sinner's Hearts to the Hotel for you. If you cannot eat them, we will find a way to get you human hearts."
Alastor assures before posing a question.
"You seem not to mind that you are no longer human, may I ask why?"
"Because humans have only hurt me in memory..." Aconite admits slowly as she wraps her arms around her knees.
"That is a reasonable answer. Do not worry, little one; no one here will allow you to be hurt. Least of all me."
"Why don't I have that weird speaking thing anymore?" Aconite suddenly asked after a few moments of silence, and it took a moment for Alastor to realize she was referring to her lisp.
"I believe it may be because, in the ritual I created, I had it strip the soul shard that had been in your scar of its powers and knowledge. The shard was affecting your development, as I have previously said. You may not actively call upon the knowledge the shard possessed, or there may not be much, as I do not know how old the man who created the shard was when he created it, or how many times he'd split his soul. Splitting one's soul is very foolish, Aconite, as it leaves you with only half of your soul each time. So one split leave you with half, a second will leave you with half of a half, and so on."
Aconite blinked before accepting the answer; it made sense.
"Will we know what powers the shard had?"
"I do not know, but we will find out with time." Alastor offered.
"Okay.....is it okay if I sleep a little more?"
"Of course, my dear, you take all the time you need. I will be here when you wake. You have gone through a very taxing cleansing and transformation into a new being, I would be very surprised if you had been ready to get up after just awakening." Alastor tells her as he slides out of the bed, tucking her back under the covers.
"Alastor?"
"Yes?"
"What do I call you...you're my great-grandfather, right?"
"You can call me Alastor if you feel more comfortable doing so, Aconite. Calling me grandfather, admittedly, is a bit jarring." Alastor chuckles as his trans-Atlantic accent returns. He waves his hand, and one of his shadows, his personal shadow, floats in the air.
"This is one of my shadows, little fawn; it will stay with you in case I need to step out of the room while you are asleep and you wake to me not here. I can feel and hear through my shadow, so if you need me, I will know."
Aconite nods sleepily at the explanation as she curls up, her eyes closing as exhaustion takes hold. Alastor waits until her breathing evens out, clear that she has truly fallen asleep, before quietly walking to the door. He'd prefer not to leave her, even with his shadow, but the others deserved to know she had woken up briefly. Particularly Charlie, who was quite worried about Acontie as the one Magic had called upon.
Gently shutting the door behind him, he hums as he walks down the hall to go find the others, a wide grin on his face.
With Aconite in his life, he severely doubted he would feel a lack of excitement or entertainment for some time. After all, he now had a perfect apprentice to mold to his desires, and she seemed very receptive to his ideals.