~~~~During the night, after Strife hit his head...~~~~
Trist couldn't help but feel a desire to help Strife endure the pain he was enduring, but he also needed to make sure that devil Gaer'las was doing his job. He left his post by Strife's bed, and left town limits, as to not draw attention to his activities. Once outside in a secluded area, he started his ritual summoning spell.
Trist stood up, balling his hands into tight fists, letting only his right index finger hang down. He walked around in a slow circle, chanting lowly in an arcane language. " Cah'at Doraeial Challa Mo'dar'kahat. Sho'kallam Fower Ral'ho'coma. Wahl'dahat Dreahmat Armaeil. " He now had compleated his walking circle. A line of light blue faerie fire sprang from the ground along the path he had followed. He sat down in a lotus position inside the circle. He spread his arms wide over the circle in front of him, and resumed chanting. " For'ar'alarum Kades'caht. Cael'chagullum. Xe'ras Meagas Kahllas'kaht. Mor'faer Collum Kah'malleshat! " The faerie fire shifted in color to a vibrant orange, and new lines of the magick light traced on the ground to create a pentacle star within the boundries of the circle. He flipped his hands over, and raised them towards the sky. A vicious, icy wind began to cyclone around the circle. He chanted louder, to be heard over the blowing zephyr. " Zar'vallamam! Cades'maelsarem! Yaelmas! Sha'dur'kwameshall Foyaordoma AEmal'vael'kas! " The wind blew up into a massive column of circulating air, but left the ground outside it's radius untouched. Suddenly, the wind died down, and the energy lines blazed up into red walls three feet high. After a moment, the lines lowered into their regular height of a few inches, and then, a man materialized inside the center of the star. Even in the dim light, Tristram could see the red, scaled skin of the guest's face, his glowing red eyes, and the small points protruding from his forehead below his black hairline. Trist stood up, and spoke in the same language he spoke in chants.
"Well? What have you found out?"
"No, 'How have you been?', Trist? I'm hurt," the devil mocked.
"I don't have the damned patience!,"Tristram thundered. "Tell me about the attackers!"
(OOC: I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to take a little poetic license about the sphere thing.)"Okay, okay, calm down. Details are sketchy at best and flagrant lies at worst, but there is word of a Soul Sphere on the move."
"Uh huh." His calm facade protected an underlying fear of the meaning behind a Soul Sphere. Unholy energy even he wouldn't dare weild, a Soul Sphere is a creature, ofter seen by it's victims in sphere form, that instills madness in it's target, followed by utter mental control of the victim, and eventually, a hideous death followed by unrestful afterlife.
"This thing owes no allegiance to any side, and especially can't be bargined with."
"I don't care if it likes you, how do you destroy it?"
"...You know as well as I do..."
"Indeed. Then be off." Neither of them needed to say that it is impossible to slay the Soul Sphere.
"Merry met, and merry part..."
"...And may we merry meet again." The pentacle and Gaer'las disappeared instantaineously upon the utterance of the last syllable. Trist reentered the town, and brought a chair up beside the entrance to Strife's room. He felt no need to wake the young man; he had already been through so much. Trist slumped down in the chair, and tapped his fingers together as he waited for mourning and the revival of Strife. [/b]
Penance can't absolve your sin...Reap your life/Veiled in shadow/Recognize/Faces of the crucified/I can hear their screams tonight/Ever haunting me---- Disturbed, "Believe"