> Eat good wine, drink good food, laugh with good friends and live like there is no tomorrow left! - Nord Morningstar

The ceremonial chamber stretched out, a vast expanse of dimness, lit only by the flickering flames of a sparse collection of candles. The room was stripped bare, its walls swallowed by shadows, allowing the faint illumination to dance and play across the rough textures. Positioned at the northern end was an altar, an austere structure crowned by a small leather-bound box.

Gathering in a deliberate formation, the participants took their positions, forming a tight circle around an intricate pentagram drawn with vivid red salt. Among them, a cousin guided South, whose eyes gleamed with uncontainable excitement. She couldn't help but bear a wide, eager smile, her happiness palpable.

A presence of authority and command, the Matriarch positioned herself behind the altar, poised and composed. "Sisters and Brothers, Mothers and Fathers, Children and Orphans, welcome!"

Her proclamation pierced through the silence, her voice authoritarian, compelling the room into hushed stillness, the sole interruption being the faint, steady crackling of the candles' flames. The Matriarch's hands hovered over the enigmatic black box.

"Tonight, we once more open our doors to the Hallow!" Her voice carried a deep resonance, filling the chamber. "Tonight, we bestow upon our child the gift of Oblivion. No longer will she be confined to mere flesh and bone, for she shall become one with the Book of LaVeyan. One with the Hallow. Let us celebrate our child's transformation!"

The response was a thunderous chorus, a unified stomping of feet against the floor that sent ripples of vibration cascading through the very foundation of the room. As swiftly as the sound had come, it dissipated, replaced by a calm that was as dense as it was serene. The Matriarch's hands rose again, and silence descended upon the assembly like a heavy curtain.

"Now, let us mourn the loss of our beloved Rosemary Elisabete Mere Morningstar, the stalwart guardian of the Hallow until a decade passed. Rosemary left us, but the Hallow returned home. Though our tears may flow, we must not waver in our purpose: to shield the world from the threat, the insatiable hunger of the Hallow. Since the beginning of time, our Covenant bears the weight of this solemn mission, and today, we press onward!"

South's gaze discreetly shifted in Nord's direction, her smile still affixed with enthusiasm and curiosity. Nord nodded, her thumb raised in encouragement.

"Who presents this child to be consecrated?"

Nord's Mother moved, stepping forth from the circular formation. Her voice, while soft, carried authority. "I do."

"What name did you bestow upon your child?"

"South Anne Lilin Morningstar."

The Matriarch's voice was gravely stern as she continued, "What do you seek from this Covenant?"

"I beg the Covenant to accept my child as a sacrifice and vessel to the Hallow. May her last breath protect our flesh and House and free our spirits."

South's radiant smile faltered, fading slightly when she heard the word sacrifice as she left the circle's centre and approached her Mother. Her voice was a hushed inquiry, laden with concern, "Mum, what does this all mean?"

"South, my dear, do not interrupt. Return to the centre," her Mother whispered gently, "Hush."

"Mum, but... sacrifice?"

Before South could inquire further, a hand from the crowd drew her back to the circle's centre, forcing her to redirect her attention to the Matriarch.

"You have beseeched for your child to be granted to the Hallow. In this act, you acknowledge the relinquishment of her physical form for the sake of our devotion to the Hallow. Understand that you now must abstain from teaching her the commandments of our Covenant as inscribed within the Book of LaVeyan, which emphasizes the love for our blood and the love of our House. Are you fully cognizant of the gravity of your undertaking?"

"I am," Nord's Mother responded, her voice quivering.

"My beloved brothers and sisters, let us entreat the Hallow to look upon this young vessel with mercy, to gaze upon this child who has been chosen for the ultimate sacrifice."

"I am," all voices echoed, resonating through the circle.

As the words reached South's ears, her gaze sought the comfort of her sister's, and her confusion turned to bewilderment. Wide eyes searched for answers as she realized that this event, this gathering, was not the celebratory birthday she had anticipated. It was not a time for joy but a time for sacrifice. Her sacrifice.

"Mum? Mum!" South's desperate pleas filled the tense air, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She was beginning to realize that her very life might be forfeit, her fate sealed to be an offering on the cold, crimson floor of the salt pentagram.

"Quiet!"

Nord's heart clenched as she saw the terror in her little sister's eyes. Panic surged through her, a chill running down her spine. She couldn't let this madness unfold. The Matriarch's question hung like a dark omen, "Does anyone oppose this offering?"

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Something clicked, something broke. Nord felt a surge of heat course through her, the world around her blurring into a chaotic haze of figures and distant voices. She had to act. Her voice, no longer hers, emerged as a low, husky male tone, an unexpected presence guiding her. A shiver raced down her spine as she felt the tension in the room escalated.

"I do!" The words were out before she could fully comprehend them, her voice manipulated by forces beyond her understanding. She watched the scene play out as if watching from a distance a grimdark movie as her own body moved forward, eyes no longer dull brown but now a deep obsidian, a fiery orange spark burning with rage within them.

"You foul witch! How dare you!" The words surged forth, venom dripping from each syllable. "She is blood from your blood!"

"She's possessed!" A voice in the crowd cried out, panic spreading like wildfire.

"Reveal your name, demon!" The Matriarch's voice trembled, the fear evident in her tone.

"Naming me would be an honour you don't deserve," Nord's smirk held a calculated edge, understanding the witches' vulnerability without a name to wield against her.

"Arco Neh Aeon!"

Nord's lips curled in defiance. "Not even close!"

"Levi Amon!"

"Cold, so very cold."

"Emma O! Gorgo Marduk! Nija Pan! Bilé Fenriz!" Random names of old demons emerged from the crowd.

"Baal Berith!" The murmured words rippled through the frenetic crowd, drawing Nord's attention to their source. South's heart pounded in her chest, her emotions a maelstrom.

"Baal Berith!" South's voice repeated, breaking the tension, her tone trembling but resolute. She locked eyes with Nord, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in her gaze. Nord felt a pang of guilt for her sister's involvement, but there was no turning back now.

"You have no idea, child, what your sister sacrificed to protect you, to give you a second chance. All the happiness she gave up for you to have a future. I hope it wasn't in vain. She loved you more than life itself."

Nord returned her attention to the Matriach and advanced slowly toward the altar, escalating tension.

The coven joined hands, forming an unbreakable bond of unity. With The Matriarch leading them, they began to chant. Their words weren't from any known language. They were a series of sounds and syllables, birthed from pure emotion and intention. It was an improvised spell, something never before spoken but whose purpose was clear to every witch in the circle.

As the chanting reached a fever pitch, the ground beneath them began to tremble. From the earth, red salt started to gather and rise. The granules danced and swirled in the air, collecting and compacting, taking shape before their very eyes.

The form that emerged was terrifying, a gargantuan gargoyle, its features sharp and menacing, crafted entirely from brilliant red salt. Each detail of its form was perfectly chiselled – from its powerful, sinewy limbs to the terrifying snarl on its face, every fang and scale meticulously crafted. Though made of the same red salt, its eyes seemed to hold a fiery life of their own.

There, amidst the chanting witches, the beast stood, perched on muscular haunches, wings spread wide in a display of dominance, poised to strike. Its target was Nord.

But she wasn't alone in this battle. She crouched, her hand making contact with the salt-strewn floor. "I summon the Key of the Protector! Stand by my side, defend in my name across the realms you tread. So it is decreed, for my words are carved into my being—Baal Berith!"

The Matriarch and her coven, so focused on the gargoyle they had summoned, had not noticed the tattoo on Nord's forearm – a complex and intricate design etched in dark ink. However, as the beast readied its strike, an azure glow emerged from the tattoo, casting a light that seemed to challenge the room's shadows.

The glow intensified, and from its brilliance, a young elf woman began to materialize. As her form solidified, the ethereal beauty of her face contrasted sharply with the fierce determination in her eyes. The coven members gasped, some stepping back in instinctual fear. This was no ordinary woman but a pure guardian made of mana, the power of raw magic.

As her final form took shape, it became evident she was a warrior of unparalleled skill. Her armour shimmered and glinted in the soft candlelight, lending her a mesmerizing and almost otherworldly appearance. A magnificent shield, adorned with symbols and dents that seemed to tell a story of bravery and sacrifice, was firmly gripped in her left hand. Her right hand wielded a sword, its blade flashing with an edge that looked sharp enough to cleave reality itself.

She lunged at the gargoyle without a word and with a swiftness that defied her ethereal emergence. The creature, caught off-guard by this sudden adversary, roared in anger and lunged back.

Their ensuing clash was nothing short of epic. Every move the gargoyle made, the guardian seemed to anticipate, her shield deflecting and her sword parrying. With each engagement, the candlelight caught the glint of their respective forms, creating a dance of light and shadow.

For a moment, the Matriarch and her coven were mere spectators, watching in disbelief. The guardian's movements were fluid and precise, each strike purposeful. Her sword slashed through the gargoyle's wing with a mighty swing, leaving a trail of red salt particles in the air.

The creature howled in pain, attempting to retaliate, but the guardian was relentless. With a final, well-aimed blow, she drove her sword through the creature's heart. The gargoyle let out a last, mournful cry before crumbling, disintegrating into a pile of red salt, its essence returned to the floor from whence it came.

Once filled with the ominous energy of the coven's chanting, the room was now dominated by a charged silence. All eyes were on the guardian, who, after ensuring the threat was vanquished, turned to face Nord, giving a nod of acknowledgement.

Nord's command cut through the silent chaos. "Bring me the box!"

The warrior moved to the altar. The Matriarch clutched the box to her chest, a defiant stance, but Nord wasn't deterred. "This ends now!"

The guardian, her duty not yet complete, gracefully moved towards the box. Each step was deliberate, her armour making a soft, harmonious clinking sound. The coven watched intently, some with fear and others with a blend of awe and curiosity. She reached out, took the box and approached Nord, her every move exuding an ethereal grace. Without a word, she handed her the box, her posture one of deep respect and submission.

Surprised by the sudden deference, Nord carefully accepted the box, feeling the weight of its power and importance.

She looked one last time in the South direction and said, "Eat good wine, drink good food, laugh with good friends and live like there is no tomorrow left! But mostly… be happy."

"Nord?" South whispered, frozen in place, when she watched her older sister opening the box.

[https://i.postimg.cc/RCpzxp1D/The-Key-of-the-Protector.png]

> This defends and protects those who invoke and cause to come. When they appear show them this Key, and immediately they will obey. - Baal Berith