Too early




Nion had been exploring the area, looking for the perfect spot with the perfect balance for what he was about to try.

And he had found it.


He'd had to make sure there was nobody in the vicinity, for this spell would need time and a great deal of concentration to carry through.

The demon descended from the tree he'd used to scan the area.


And stopped to unbuckle his cape.


Setting it and the Claymore down on the snow, he stood up straight and gathered his thoughts.


He'd never attempted anything as complicated before but he felt the power, and he understood the energies in this world better now. He should be able to build a trap door for the Hunter, or any other demon after him, that would throw them half way across this world if he was in danger.


Somnion held out his clawed hand and began drawing a pattern in his mind, building every detail slowly and accurately until it was perfect.


A barely audible sentence in his native tongue spilled through his lips into the cold air.


And his pattern appeared in the air, almost touching the tips of his claws.


Then, the pattern disspated and the magic surrounded his arm.

 

Now, he'd only need to transfer it into the ground.


But before he could even think the command, there was a pulse, and his whole arm was consumed by unimaginable heat.


The demon fell down on his knee as a cry escaped his lips.
 

It echoed in the silent woods.


The backlash of his failed spell boiled his blood and crackled his skin.

Somnion's frustrated lament and the sizzling of the escaping heat were the only sounds in the forest.


As the burning feel slowly passed, Nion bent his damaged arm and grimaced.


He should've done more research, more tests. But he'd been impatient, and now his right arm was half-dead. Probably useless for most things.

Though, he knew there was no turning back time and dwelling on mistakes was useless.
 


As an afterthought, the demon brought the damaged arm forward and turned his head to look behind his shoulder: the spell pattern was still there -partially at least.

He sighed of relief and wished it wasn't badly damaged. His life might depend on it.


Speaking of... Khepre would kill him for this.



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