Descendants: The Demon's Child
Prologue
The "True" History of the Chernabog
Once upon a time, there was a gargoyle named Pyotr. Gargoyles are hideous creatures carved from stone that are brought to life by magic and bound to a holy place. Should evil ever threaten the Slavic church to which he was bound, Pyotr's job was to scare it away. For centuries, Pyotr stayed faithful to his makers and kept the parishioners safe from the darkness. But one day, a great war destroyed the town. Many fled to the church hoping for sanctuary, but death and destruction followed them. In an effort to save them, Pyotr left his perch and flew into the sanctuary. He knew he was breaking every rule by showing himself to the humans, but he could not stand idly by while his people suffered at the hands of the greatest evil he had ever faced. But instead of welcoming him as their savior, the people screamed in terror. "Chernabog" they called him. It was a Slavic word meaning "black god of darkness." He was made to protect them from evil and they looked at him as if he were the devil himself. Before he could explain himself, the frightened people ran out the doors of the cathedral straight into oncoming enemy fire. Pyotr tried to follow, but he was bound to the church. All he could do was watch as the battle raged on and war laid waste to the countryside. Pyotr felt his stone heart break.
As the years passed and the church fell to ruin, Pyotr's grief turned to anger and eventually hatred. He denounced his makers. If people believed him to be a demon, then that is exactly what he would be. His dark thoughts summoned the true god of darkness. Hades, god of the Underworld appeared before him and offered him a deal.
"Come work for me," he said, "and all the powers of Hell shall be yours. You'll be able to get revenge on all those humans who ever did you wrong."
"What's the catch?" Deals with Hades always came with a price.
"Nothing much. You'll just be bound to a mountain guarding the entrance to the Underworld. And, of course, you'll be sleeping as solid immovable rock during the day time."
"I'll be bound to a mountain and I won't be able to move during the day? How is this better than my current miserable existence?"
"You will be the terror of the night as you tower over all the humans. Your shadow will cover entire villages. Even as you sleep your massive wings will form the very peak of Bald Mountain."
"So I'll be really big. I thought you said I'd have all the powers of Hell." Pyotr was skeptical.
Hades smiled. "You will be able to control hellfire, shape it into whatever you want and burn anything you wish. Lesser demons will be at your beck and call. Your name will strike fear in the hearts of every man, woman and child on Earth. Neither man nor beast would dare oppose you. None could. So, what do you say Pyotr? Do we have a deal?" Hades held out his hand and waited.
Pyotr clasped Hades' hand and shook it. "Call me Chernabog."
And so, it came to pass that a creature made to guard against evil became evil incarnate. For hundreds of years, Chernabog was the terror of the night. If someone was unfortunate enough to find themselves without shelter after dark, that person was rarely seen again. Being scared to death was not merely an expression, for Chernabog's evil presence was often enough to stop a heart.
Chernabog's reign of terror was finally brought to a halt when all the gods of Mt. Olympus combined their powers with those of great human sorcerers and fairies. A double layered magical barrier was erected over Bald Mountain. A small stream of magic was fed between the layers—just enough to keep him alive, albeit greatly reduced in size. A creature made entirely of magic could not exist without it, and the side of good could never stomach the thought of destroying a life. A little over twenty years ago, Bald Mountain—double barrier and all—was relocated to a hidden section of the Isle of the Lost. Only a select few know of its existence. Even fewer know the Isle's greatest secret: Chernabog isn't the only one inside the boundaries of Bald Mountain. Somehow, Chernabog had a daughter.