Devils are known for having their seals, their individual imagery. In mortal life these seals can be used against them, used to invoke their form to the mortal plane, bind them to the casters will. A fair few magi of various eras have taken to such a skill, including this modern one.
In mortal death, however, these seals can lead to an afterlife of torment, agony, fear. One who applies these seals to themselves, as a means of binding devils on a whim, will find that the seal follows them to their eternity, along with the devil in question.
She awoke on hard blackened ground, charred neath her body like the pit of a bonfire that had burned for days continuously. Her hands were stained with soot when she opened her eyes, and as she swept down her body, it appeared everything was.
She was naked here, cold. This place felt devoid of moisture, of wind. It was dark all around her, except for one great glowing ember some distance away. All the time she had spent running, only recently had she tried facing whatever was going on, and this time she would start that way.
She strode confidently, filled with rage, towards the glowing ember. She held in her mind, at the very least, even if there were no answers, there would be warmth in this cold place. The glow got brighter as she approached, warmer, but never any more inviting. As she drew nearer and nearer, what she saw startled her.
The glowing heat came from a single, gargantuan, slab of wood. The size of the side of a house. In front of it, between her and the glow, was a figure no less than twice her height. The silhouette, massive, horrific in nature, was imposing to say the least. When it swung around to face her, she dropped onto the ground, on her back.
Twice her height, and built like a withering tree, the devil's eyes glowed a sickly green and brown light. The light from its eyes were brighter than the ember behind it, brighter than even the sun felt on her face in the woodland before this. She realized in a start, she could remember what had been happening.
She remembered the nighttime hunt, the creature of shadow and writhing black tentacles hunting her. The castle ground, the crowds of people who didn't see her at all, the lullaby. The daytime hunt, the white cloud of passions and lust that didn't even give her the chance to fight. And now this, a devil, one she had definitely seen before, staring her down with blazing eyes that filled her to the core with fear.
The devil did not move, did not shift even an inch from its stance since turning to face her. She rose, hesitantly, but before she was all the way to her feet, a sharp pain shot up her leg, into her chest, and up to her eyes. She looked down, a seal carved into her flesh glowing the same sickly green and brown, shimmering like a mirage in her skin. Blood poured down her leg.
She gaped at the wound, and then her eyes slowly drifted up. Skeletal shapes with gnarls passed her eyes. Flesh rotted and dripping off of the form ahead of her. And at the top, a deer's skull with those unholy glowing eyes. Only a brief momentary flash, and it was all gone. In its place, a soft looking young lady strode towards her. Clad in reds and blacks, with leather boots and gloves, a red rose pinned to her breast opposite the pocket side of her blouse.
She stared up at the devil, a smug smile on the vile creatures face, and began panting from the heat the closer and closer she got. Before she could get a word out, the devils boot was on her chest, and her back was flat against the hard packed earth again. She gasped as the breath was pushed out of her.
"Now you remember it all, just like you normally do. How does it fair, beloved? Do you have want for me to rend the memories from you again? Go through the cycle fresh as the first time? Or do you wish to remember, fight, no flinching this time?" The voice of the devil came from within her mind, and as it spoke her wound flared with pain, heat, blood.
She pushed her chest up as much as she could, not even lifting her back off of the dirt, "I'll kill you." She spat, with considerable effort. The devil pressed the flat of its boot against her cheek, turning her head forcibly. She could feel spit hit her face, and screamed and snarled at the heat from it sizzling on her skin. She writhed and kicked with all of her remaining strength, managing to roll out from under the boot.
The devil dropped down, to the hard packed earth, on top of her. It pinned her arms beneath its own, and stared into her eyes, "Ah, ah. You may be tempted to fight me, but remember, I will hurt you much worse than the others." She snarled again and snapped her teeth at the devils face.
Only a moment later, she was hardened, primal, the shape of a red wolf twice the size of a normal one. She rolled again and freed herself from the devils grasp. The devil smiled a wicked sharp toothed smile, and lightning crackled between its fingers, "Ah, so you remember then, do you wolf? Then take me, kill me where I stand, free yourself from your torment. I dare you."
She charged the devil, springing forward on her hind legs into a run. Her teeth snapped at it, jaw flung open with rage, hate, death. The devil waited until she was nearly on top of it, and dodged as if she had been moving at a snails pace. A shock coursed through her veins, bringing her to the ground again, but only for a moment.
She spun and jumped atop the devil, a mouth full of supernaturally sharp teeth baring down on its head. The devil only barely managed to get its fingers against her cheeks in time, a full body stream of electricity causing her to flop to the side. The devil stood, with startling alacrity.
It snapped its fingers, and the place where the wound had been on her human body flared into a burning ember, near as bright as the coal at the center of the pit. She howled in agony, the wolf call being responded to by two others a great distance away. When she was able to open her eyes again, she was human once more.
The devil strode towards her, the smugness on its face replaced with something more vile, more sinister, a lust for her and her body mixed with a deep desire for something should couldn't even see. She was flung to her back again by invisible winds that stoked the coal to a smolder at the center of the pit. And before she could even try to move, the devil was naked and atop her.
It was pain, it was ecstasy, it was a giving lover who's skin was magma and who's touch was lightning. She was filled with vile feelings and thoughts, vile memories of the others in this dream violating her too. The devil coughed a wretched laugh deep in its throat, "Oh love, a dream? You wish this was a dream. It is your eternity. You have already been here some time, but when you last came here, you begged me to make you forget, so you could experience it all fresh again." She recoiled at the implication that she would beg this creature for anything.
She could tell, even as it spoke, that its breathing became more harried, rushed, it was close now. Even the pit itself reflected this, as if each breath it took was a wind that coursed through the place like a howl of midnight death. She turned to face the devil, hatred filled her eyes, but for a flash when she made eye contact she remembered a mortal life filled with pleasures, ease. She gasped, remembering that this devil was once a kind face, a pleasant talk, even something more tender. But now it was just a vile reminder that she had sold something vital of herself for comfort in life.
It clamped a hand down on her neck as she felt heat rush into her, burning her from within. Lightning burned her throat, as tears poured out of her eyes, and blood poured out of her body at every hole. Even through all of that pain though, somehow she felt ecstasy, a wholeness. Visions of herself, a red wolf, running through that woodland with a winged deer, two other wolves, with a small soft figure on her back singing a pleasant song. A moment slipped by and all she could feel was the pain again.
Relief filled the face of the devil, panting and drooling with a smile on its face as it looked down at her. Its eyes dilated, shook, and it cooed, "I love you wolf. Let's give you a break before we do this whole torture thing again." Pleasure flooded her body as her vision blurred and blackened.
She awoke in a forest, a darkened, damp place. A sanguine moon hung eerily overhead as the only source of light in the starless sky. This was the kind of situation she had been in before. A sense of dread filled her, deep down to her core, as a voice she had heard many times in life rang through the trees from distance.
"Come to me, packsister, now is the time for a brief respite."
She was the red wolf again, and it was time to lick her wounds.
“I swear unto the Maker and Holy Andraste to love this woman the rest of my days.”
“What in Andraste’s mercy is going on out here?”
Alistair couldn’t see the man whose outburst interrupted his wedding, but he recognized the voice. No matter. Eamon was too late; they had both already said their vows, Alistair’s a stuttering mess, Bethany skipping half the words to get to the end faster and having to start over. Both her hands were in his, giving him little squeezes when he couldn’t quite get the words out. It wasn’t his fault. They never made him stare into the eyes of beautiful women while reciting memorized verses in the monastery. Never thought he would need the practice, he supposed. And Andraste could forgive him for this, but her words had never carried as much weight as these.
He was going to love this woman for the rest of his days.
Stuttering or no, he had gotten the words out, and Bethany was his wife, and Eamon, another archdemon, or the Maker himself couldn’t undo that. Well, perhaps the Maker could, given that the chantry ordained the thing. He supposed the Maker had undone one very famous marriage in Thedosian history, a very historically important marriage, now that he really thought about it. And while his mind skittered over these thoughts, his head swiveled of its own accord toward the commotion that was his uncle elbowing his way to the front of the crowd.
“Alistair,” Bethany said gently, slipping a hand from his and reaching for his face with the softest of touches, “Kiss me.”
~
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