This fic was fun to get done for the ficathon, not using a prompt because I needed to get it done.
Happy this is up mainly because it's been growing in my head ever since writing a gift fic for marypsue's Reincarnation Blues on tumblr, who may or may not remember getting me telling her about this story soon after, which was... *checks watch* *checks calendar* four months ago (yes, I'm really far behind on writing fics. I know).
I'll apologize in advance for not having the time to actively update this fic, or any of my TAU fics (which actually all tie together because once multiple plot-bunnies have been running around in my head long enough they start cannibalizing each other). I'll post some worldbuilding later this week on tumblr, about how they play into each other, but for now enjoy this dark little piece of corner.
Trigger warning for a little blood and a lot of implied gore.
Maka felt the comforting fingers trailing through her long hair like nails on a chalkboard grating down her spine. Feeling the teen's tense back, Aunt Beth sent her an understanding smile in the mirror's reflection that sent Maka sheepishly back to reviewing her notes.
"It's okay to be nervous, you know." Beth soothed as she smoothed out the white dress all girls wore for their first ceremony to symbolize the innocence of the sacrifice. "The Offering is a complicated ritual for the first, but once you've done it you'll truly be one with the community, and I'm sure you'll be leading everyone in even bigger rites soon enough, just like your father."
Beth's voice took on a reverent tone as she mentioned Papa, a lesser version of the awe usual reserved for the Master. Papa was the human head of the cult, while Mother was in charge of the living arrangements. Just that alone was enough to have the entire community speaking of Maka's true initiation, the time she could summon the Master herself and truly join the ranks, with hushed expectations.
The small gift of Sight that had run through Maka's dreams ever since she was twelve made the community's expectations suffocating.
"I-I'm not scared." Maka intoned, looking back up at Beth's reflection, who just smiled knowingly at the glare. "It's just- I had a dream last night."
"Oh?" Her aunt's face asked for details with a look of wonder. Rarely was it anyone but Papa who got to hear of Maka's dreams firsthand.
"I… I don't remember much of it. Any of it, really." Beth's eyes fell just as Maka's rose to meet them. "All I know is that it was dark. And bad."
Beth didn't know what to do as Maka's shoulders shook at remembering even the haze of her nightmare. The teen's voice shook as she shuddered, "Does it mean, something, Aunt Beth? Should I be scared?"
Beth could've sworn that in that moment she felt as much power in the air as she had during her own Offering. The pause seemed to stretch on as Maka stood frozen before the mirror, almost ready in appearance but having last minute doubts. Recognizing her duty, Beth quashed that foreign feeling clawing up her spine and put the most sincere smile she could as she took in her niece.
"I'm sure that if you don't remember it then it was nothing but an illusion. Today's your Offering, dear, it's a time for truth and falsehoods have no bearing." Maka's eyes shone with acceptance, as if she could accept Beth's words as easily as Papa's preachings. When the girl wasn't looking, Beth reached up to cradle her talisman, the one Maka would receive by the end of the night.
"You know, on the morning of my Offering, I spent the entire time wondering what the Master looked like. I had tried to guess how many horns he had, or how long his claws would be. I even wrote down some estimates in the margins of my notes so I could compare them later! And boy was I way off!" Beth let out a heavy laugh, and when Maka hesitatingly followed, she knew her job was done.
"There's nothing to worry about, dear. You'll be fine." Tying the single white bow into her long, black hair as a finishing touch, Beth took a step back and took in her niece as a child for the final time. "You're perfect. And you'll do perfectly. But if you need a moment I can tell your father that I dropped the straightener. Are you still nervous?"
Maka had gathered herself back into a strong face, the expression that Papa always wore unless behind closed doors, one that could lead a group of people to Hell and back. She tried not to stumble, but Beth could've swore for a second that the stone face cracked.
"I'm terrified."
The temple was packed when Maka walked in alone.
Granted, it was always packed, seeing as the Master deserved to have everyone in attendance for every ceremony barring the severely ill or injured, but today even the most infirm had been moved to witness Papa's daughter's Offering.
She kept her head high and avoided the eyes of the fellow children as they all moved to her, whispers that the youngest were still apt to make in the temple dying down at her appearance. Pushing herself forward Maka reminded herself that she wasn't one of them anymore, today she was becoming an adult. No longer would she have to sit in the back of the temple, turned away so she could not accidentally hold the gaze of the Master before she was promised. Today she would meet him face to face and give up her soul.
The Offering itself still made her balk, but she knew that to object or question it would not end well. The one time she had asked Papa about it before bed made him turn completely red, and she noticed how the ones who seemed lackluster about it were scarily the ones chosen as sacrifice when the Master needed to be appeased.
But appeasing was just a normal part of life besides the Offering, one that no one felt the need to mention. Maka had heard that there were people elsewhere in the world who were lived barbaric lives compared to them, who refused to call upon the supernatural creatures to offer them protection, who even feared beings like the Master and who had reason to, they were safe because of His favor, after all.
Her musings had brought her almost the entire way to the altar, where the untouched chalk and polished knife were resting in the center. She caught Papa looking in her direction and saw him nodding slightly, which turned into a reproachful shake of the head as he recognized her eye contact that had Maka looking away. She was Offering herself freely, and she needn't have any outside pressure that could appear to be coercing her.
She made sure not to bit her lip as she drew out the summoning circle, and instead filled herself with determination as every symbol came into being across the altar. Maka had been tutored on drawing sigils since she could hold a quill, and although the teen had never drawn the entire circle to call the Master (that was reserved for only true ceremony) the girl had no doubt she could do it perfectly.
The sixteen-year-old stood as she finished the circle, resisting the urge to wipe the chalk dust off her dress and legs. With practiced pace she lit the sixteen candles at each tip of the figure, and moved to the center where only the knife laid untouched on the floor. Maka closed the handle in her fingers, and twisted the blade once in her right hand, unused to the weight in her in-dominant grasp.
She closed her eyes for only a brief second, and the silent room around her seemed to breathe at once. Even from behind closed lids, Maka could imagine Papa's loving smile whenever his daughter proved she could play a crowd almost as well as he did.
Opening her eyes to gaze above the gathered community, Maka straightened her back and let the practiced summoning specially made for the Offering roll of her tongue, "Custos animarum de eversor profanum hujus sanctæ humi invocaverimus te. Patronus qui suscitavit me, populus meus gratis hostiam carnem consideremus. Meorum liberum arbitrium non alligo me ad vos ..."
Maka had to pause for breath, and she felt the heat in the air that was there before, the smoke from the sixteen flickering candles making the room seem to be as dark as twilight at noon. Slicing the tip of the knife into her palm, Maka felt the sting of the initial cut and then of the pooling blood. Cupping her fingers to not let any of the red liquid spill onto the seal, she called out her own promise. "Master! Souleater! Kellior! I offer up my soul for your protection, and for that of my family and people! Face me and call it a deal!"
The room flinched at her cry, and it took everything Maka had not to stumble back herself at her brazenness. The oath was unscripted, was supposed to be the individual seal each cultist had with Kellior, so why should her mouth have to choose now to run away from her for the first time?
Yet despite her ability to stay in place, the shock had caused Maka to flinch, which was just enough to spill a drop of crimson blood through her fingers onto the center of the summoning wheel below. The girl didn't dare break her concentration to look down at it, bigger mistakes had been made in successful Offerings, but her blunders and her daring were adding up fast. Maka tried to sink her shoulders, appear meeker in hopes she could salvage everything, already starting to wonder if her Offering was doomed to fail from the start.
'Maybe the dream from last night was a sign. Maybe I should have put it off.'
And the half-remembered nightmare came to light right before the girl, or would've if Maka had taken a glance at the floor. The blood had gained a slight tail as it fell, and hit the altar with a resounding *DRIP* as it splattered into the impossible shape of a star. There was a gasp from the temple as thirteen candles simultaneously flickered out of existence, and the remained three surrounded Maka in a triangle of light that cut through the haze suddenly as black as midnight. An unholy chuckle echoed from every corner of the space, somehow centering right in front of Maka as a creature solidified in front of her that her mind screamed was not her Master.
The demon looked like a twisted version of a man, with a suitcoat inhumanly long and form-fitting, with gold quickly spreading in a brick-like pattern and black wings arcing from his lower back to block Maka's view of the crowd- of her family, friends, and everyone she knew in the community- as he settled into this world to face her.
The only thing Maka could register, however, was his inhuman black and gold eyes and monstrous fangs hanging from his mouth, which snarled at her in a bad impersonation of a cold smile.
"Ẇͥͭ̂͏͖̟̱̦h̡̙̭̜̦̱̭͔̏ͪͪͤo̟͙̺͓ ̐̔ͬ̂̈́͏͍̙̱̣̱̘s̛͙̭̳ͤͩͦ͛ͯa̼̘̬̳̥̒͐͑̕i͉͖̙̙̬̤͕͂̏̇͛̓ͪ̿d ̡̝͍͉̺̯͔̠ͩy̬͚̺̰̜o͋̏ͫ̓ͩ̎ͤu̚r̳̘͊̋̀̎͡ͅ ̻͇̞̝͙͈͂́ͅs͇̳͈̬̘̲̞̓̇̈́̈́͐ͪ͝ǒ̝̫̞̦͗͐͊̍͞ų̇͆ͭ͊ͩ͌͗l͒́ ̪͇̣̼̝̤ͭ̈́̽ͯw̞̺͍̍ͬͬ͞ä́͆̊͛s̶͉̥̯̄ ͦͥ̀̍̔̏y͗̓o̼̤̪̙̜͕ͨ͛̈́̑ͨͫ͑ǘ̪̗͕̭͍̖̳͌͗̐͂r̻͚͝s̲̥͎̞͈̫ͣͭͪ͆ͤ͗ ̷ͦ̅t̢̺̣͍̾o̞͉͡ ̭̠̼̗̗̥̘͜ǫ̪͈͕̼̘̹ͭf̔ͩ̎̄͏f̱̰̔ͨ̍ͫͯ͝e̢̲̼͕̤ͪ̌ͮ̓ͅr̴̘̎?̹͉̠̣͓̘̿̀?̸̤͓͈̩̪̹"
"Alcor..." Somehow Papa's hushed whisper made its way through then entire temple, which had in a second gone from crushingly loud to silent enough to hear a pin drop. Maka shivered at the word and how it only widened the demon's grin. She had never heard Papa sound so scared.
The demon's face almost seemed to soften as it took her in., at least that's what Maka found herself thinking as she stared into the eyes of the demon and saw the demon staring back. None of the features actually changed, and just a second later the girl felt the urge to shake her head at her imagination, despite being frozen in fear.
"M̰̲̳̓ͨ͗͂͒̃i̮̖̤͚̒ͣ̿ͮ͊̀͆z̜̤ͮ̔̑̚͠a͖͔̲̫͑̐ͧ͊͗rͥ̽̓̓͢. I'd been wondering where you were. Never would I have imagined th͙̠̪̦is."
And with that Alcor turned away from Maka, his wings instinctively folding back towards the girl to shield her from what was about to ensue.
"͇͙A̞̼̘͢n͢d͏ ̡͕͉͎̥̩͚͍w̭h̬̰͓̥̜͠ò̙̞͓̮̖ ͎̳̭͉̀ͅh͔̱͔̙e͍̕r̟͈̗e̵̫̬ t̩̩̱͎̻͖h̜͎̼̲̀o͎̬͚͙̝͞u̷̬g͡h͜t̠̻̰͢ ̖ț̵̼͕h͢e͉̞͉͓̺y͙̤̘̱͕̟ ҉̥͍̱͈̱̖ͅc̢ơ̳̰ͅͅu̯͓l̶̖d̻͖̤̝̻̜͜ ̵țr͇̭̝̝̘̱͠y͏͙̗̮̝ ͜t̫͙̞͟ͅo͏ ͇̻̘͉̖͔ͅs̨̟̹̤̜͈e̴̝̖̩͕̹̳l͓̼̱͈͝l ̡͇̯͇̠ͅw̴̲h͟ͅa͖̩̜̣t̠̲͓͓͇'̶̙̱̪̞͎s̙ ̶̴̞̦͕̯͍͓̥̭̻̪̞̳̣͉̗͖̟ͨ̽ͦͪ́ͦ̓́͠ͅ ͑ͣ̿͒ͯ͋̅̈̽̔͏̡̛͓̻͎̜̦m̸͓̤͚͖̩͚̙̻͈͆ͯ͒̿͜͠͠͝i͂͑͂̒̓̃͂ͨ̿͊̒̓̾̅̃ņ̸̛̟͕̠̻̬̬̬̉́ͣ̊͑ͭ̓̊̽͒͒͛͘e͛̆͂̎̎͐͑?͌ͬ̊̽̄̆̓̽̃̾̍ͮ͠͡"̵͓̤̮̣̯̳͇̱̀
Alcor hadn't felt the pull of a summons in a long time. It had been even longer since he'd answered one. Besides the little… anomaly a few decades ago (or was it nearing a century, Alcor had long since stopped keeping track of such insignificant intervals of time), the Dreambender hadn't been summoned by anyone besides curious researchers trying to verify his continued existence in at least a couple hundred years. It was silly how after a short amount of time humanity just assumed he had moved on, whether to death or even godhood (although given how little Alcor even resembled a demon at times he had to admit it was not such a far-out possibility).
That didn't mean that Alcor didn't interact with the human dimension anymore. There were times when he didn't, when he would spend decades with the Flock in the Mindscape. The Flock had grown in number to the point where he needed to spend almost all his time just to know and care for them as he used to. But there was still one occasion he didn't dare miss on Earth. In fact, as of late he had simply taken to keeping count of the number of times he went to keep track of time.
The rebirth of Mizar.
Alcor could spend years watching each one, boy or girl (though his twin was being reincarnated as a male with increasing frequency lately) as they grew up and took on the world. He took the same precautions he had trained himself to follow back when Mabel had first started reincarnating: watching them invisibly until they were old enough to recognize who and what he was before introducing himself, first as an imaginary friend and then as the brother he so desperately wanted to be.
And as of late each and every Mizar turned him away.
Alcor had heard whisperings among the various parents about teaching their children to be safe around the supernatural, and he eventually picked up on whispers from other demons about similar troubling concerns: how fewer and fewer summonings were calling upon even the more popular demons, how almost every summon that still came through was from a large cult settings, and how exorcists seemed to be even closer on call in recent centuries than in the early years after the Transcendence. While once he could've simply continued to watch the Mizar's lives pass by from afar when they turned him down, improvements in artificial Sight and demon detectors made it harder. He could easily just pass unnoticed, but inevitably even he messed up, and the resulting fights, screams, and even hand-made exorcisms coming out of his twin's lips hurt him far deeper than the spells had any right to.
It had been twelve Mizars. Over a millennium since he had just hung out with his sister. And that more than anything was enough to make Alcor stay away from human affairs.
After the latest in that line of Mizars, Alcor knew he should've been keeping a closer eye on her soul while it was taking a break from the cycle. But when he first went into the Library to find that one soul noticeably gone without immediately picking out a reincarnation he just assumed Mizar was giving him the silent treatment, again.
It wasn't until he felt the summons out of the corner of his mind that he realized how wrong he was.
Any summons, or any call that tried to bridge dimensions really, sends out a tiny shiver in the fabric of the very dimension it was crying out to. Normally that call could only be felt by the demon the summoner was invoking, who felt the force in its full force, whatever that may be. However, with a summons powerful enough, or a strong enough connection to the third party at question, it was possible for a powerful being to sense the ripple.
Alcor's head shot up as he felt this tickle on the edge of his omniscience. It felt like a summons, but after centuries without one he had to remind himself that no, summons were not that much weaker than he remembered, but that this one was simply not meant for him. That was strange enough in itself that the demon simply had to investigate the pull, even if it wasn't worth going all the way to Earth. He wasn't rude enough to hijack another demon's summons, after all.
Until what he felt made his teeth elongate into fangs and his sense devolve into fury.
The summons came to his attention because of the summoner. At the end of that thin strand through the Mindscape was Mizar, who was not crying out to meet her twin, but for the aid of some other demon.
A demon to whom she was offering h̞̲̤͖̘ḙ̵͈͉͙̥͖͕̦̀͢r̹͚̹͍ ̶̙̻̭͓̲̺͔̤ş̧̣̤̺̰͘o̳̘͍͘͞u͏͖͔l̗̝.
A drop of blood echoed across the connection, her blood, strengthening the call to reach the demon who would surely take the feast if Alcor did nothing. In a flash the summons was his and he was facing her, in a body and life Alcor had never seen before, although he quickly noted that she was already a teenager -sixteen, his omniscience supplied, it's her birthday. Staring into the wide brown eyes and taking in the black hair framing her quickly-paling face, Alcor quickly deduced that this was too perfect, too planned, to be a coincidence.
Turning around, the demon found himself facing a crowd of people, at least a hundred faces all paling simultaneously as they took in his unexpected appearance. No, this wasn't a bloody coincidence, this was a ritual. A dim voice in the back of his mind identified the short heads facing away as children, but all that was drowned out by the more demonic part of him screaming that they were not children or human but witnesses who were standing by as Mizar was forced to give up what was his.
His eyes all too quickly froze on a couple in the front row who were clearly her parents, if scum who would raise a child to sell their soul could even be called such. Mizar's father's lips moved in a pattern that Alcor knew must be his name, and the demon only felt the vengeful grin that he had unknowingly plastered on his face stretch.
Oh, they thought that offering up sacrifices to another demon would appease him? These silly little cultists who had not only learned over the millennium that these groups did nothing for their life expectancies, but thought that they could get away with trying to barter with what wasn't even theirs to begin with? The way that man, their leader, thought he could whisper Alcor's name like a blessing and expect mercy, when he was trying to take away the one thing that reminded Alcor of what the mercy felt like after such a long existence?
They deserved nothing, and it would all be okay because it meant that he could keep Mizar sàf͘e. Safer than they had kept her, and she could bring his humanity back if he just lost it of Maddie and Bentley went through his mind, and Alcor appeased the part of him that cried for him to stop with reassurances that he surely wouldn't be ignored by Mizar this time.
He was doing her a favor by destroying these pitiful humans. And she had already shown she was more willing to deal with demons than her most recent preincarnations.
Zalgo translations for the two sentences where it might be too much: "Who said your soul was yours to offer?" and "And who here thought they could try to sell what's mine?" Because Alcor's kinda forgotten how to endear himself to humans.
Hope you enjoyed, and hopefully I'll have more time to write soon! I've been swamped with schoolwork and likely will be all semester, but this is definitely a fic that's been on the forefront of my mind the past four months, so I see no reason that'll change. I even have little snippets throughout the rest of the fic written down, seeing as it follows a couple other characters you all have yet to meet here.