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Strega

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There is tale that is whispered among covens of a boy that was taken by a bright-eyed demon. It was story told to little Wiccans to press the fact that demons would use any means possible to lead them away from the bright path that the covens laid in front of them. Covens, some of them spanning for miles upon miles, harbored their children close and kept in close contact to their leader family — a somewhat buried monarchy that was kept hidden within everyday mortal life.

The boy, named Christopher, was the son of a powerful witch and heir to a coven that spanned most of the Western portion of the United States was a bright child that many placed their hopes in. The magical community was looking upon their Wiccan brethren to keep them alive and to lead them into a Golden Age that was desperately needed. Many adolescent Wiccans were turning away from their heritage and plunged themselves into a mortal life.

Many saw the possibility of Christopher leading those on the path of leaving back under their coven's wings. Many children and adolescents flocked under Christopher's words and kind eyes. The coven and the Magical Community's council known as the Elders groomed Christopher to their liking quickly getting him ready to take his mother's role as Coven Leader and, perhaps, stretch the coven's influence farther than it has ever before.

Seers proclaimed his greatness since he was a baby and everyone had high expectations for him. Numerous eyes was always on him, both in the mortal world and the magical. Alone time was only spent when he closed his door to sleep late at night after all his homework was done and his demonology research was set aside. Nestled in bed, he would close his eyes and dream of a world where his magic was non-existent and his world was blissfully mortal.

Two years shy of his maturity, the Coven's world was shaken at the sudden death of its leader — Christopher's mother. A simple mortal death brought on by a drunk driver in the midst of night. He went to bed with a loving mother to waking up without one. His mother, while governed her coven with a firm hand, also believed that children and teenagers should choose to live in either the Magical world or the Mortal one on their own without influences brought on by older influences. She longed to pull her son away from the Elders' gazes and the Community's harsh expectations and did everything she did to give him the illusion of a normal life as possible bearing his heritage; and now she was gone.

It was two weeks after his mother's death when the Seers words changed from the beautiful Golden Age to a murky future.

"His aura is now tinted black," they said, "Mourning has changed his soul and will change our future."

Many placed the Seers' words aside, giving the boy the time he needed to mourn for his late mother. His father — a high ranking adviser to the Elders — had to scramble past his grief and step up as a makeshift regent for his still minor son. Meanwhile, his son was tumbling in a dark abyss.

The tale goes that a demon with eyes kissed by the sky and hair the color of the sun that lit it up began to visit Christopher in the midst of the night. Christopher claimed that the demon was always with him even during the day.

The demonic man named Acies was a high-ranking demon that thrived off the pain of his victims. Torture was his kink and he loved to play with his prisoners before finally sending them back home so broken that death was a blessing. His birth was unknown but his power was Wiccan in origin.

Six months under Acies's touches and manipulations had turned Chris's once bright aura to a dark black. His eyes were no longer warm.

Their attack came out of nowhere.

It was on the one year anniversary of Christopher's mother's death. Acies shimmered into the memorial celebration beside Christopher in the midst of his monotone speech. The other Wiccans and other magical beings jumped in fright, afraid of the demon. Christopher merely turned and looked upon the man with a small smile.

"About time you showed up," Christopher spoke.

Acies smiled and with a gentle hand caressed the side of Christopher's face. His blue eyes were soft and a small smile was on his thin lips. Thick, blond curls framed his face and the man was clad in taut black clothing. A long black jacket, decorated in blood red scroll work, covered his tall body. "The idiotic minions kept me," Acies answered, lowering his head slightly to nuzzle Christopher's temple with the tip of his nose, "My apologizes, my love."

Christopher smiled, "You are forgiven."

"What is the meaning of this!?" Christopher's father, Leo, screamed.

"Is it obvious?" Acies spoke, his arms wrapping around Christopher's waist, "Your beloved light has dimmed and walked into the darkness. Embraced and became one with it." He accentuated his ending by pressing his lips to the side of Christopher's neck, "He is no longer your little toy."

"Christopher, step away from him." Leo ordered.

"I rather not," Christopher answered, his eyes drifting upward to look at Acies, "I think I'm fine here."

"You don't know what you're saying! He's warped your mind, Child." An Elder pleaded.

"If that is so, then it shall be. This man has showed me more than you ever have," Christopher said.

"I know of your ways," Acies spoke, his arms tightening around Christopher, "Thirty years ago, I was your Chosen One. You pushed me and forced me into a form that wasn't me. You forced prophecy into my head and had my next ten steps planned for me. It drove me insane. If I stepped one step out of your plan, I was berated and beaten like you done to Chris."

"Wyatt."

Acies's eyes shifted from Christopher to an Elder, "That was my Wiccan name, yes."

"Acies fits you better," Christopher remarked, shrugging.

"I couldn't agree more, my love."

"Demons can't experience love, he's lying to you, Christopher." Leo pressed.

Christopher shrugged and pressed his face into Acies's chest. His eyes slid shut, "I'm done. I'm done being a prodigy you so desperately need."

"And now, you shall be beside me." Acies whispered, "Reign as my equal."

"Chris, please!"

"That is no longer my name," Chris answered, looking up at Acies with a small smile.

Acies caressed Chris's cheek with the back of his hand. He leaned down and gently placed his lips upon Chris's. Resting his forehead against Chris's, Acies brought Chris closer to him. "Strega." Acies stated, "Christopher is the name you were forced to bear. Strega shall be your name while you rise in strength."

Christopher nodded, "Strega it is."

"Chris!" Leo screamed.

Acies smirked and looked at the group of Wiccans and Elders, "He's mine now." he proclaimed before shimmering away, Christopher in his arms.