Perplexed by the angelic warning, the ancient mage temporarily ceased his attempts at direct contact. But then, he encountered Vellok. In Vellok, the mage recognized an elemental talent that almost close to his own and a purity of light he had only ever sensed in his fleeting, repulsed attempts to contact angels. From his millennia of research and those brief, chilling angelic encounters, the mage understood one crucial thing: beings like Vellok, with their untainted light, were considered the "most beloved souls" by the angels.
This revelation ignited a new, sinister plan within the mage. He lavished Vellok with attention, showering him with what appeared to be genuine love and guidance. He even stooped to actions far beneath his usual disdain for lesser beings, taking the time to teach Vellok concepts of morality and kindness. All of this was a calculated charade, a meticulous waiting game for the opportune moment.
Vellok, innocent and unaware of the sinister machinations at play, readily absorbed this unexpected affection. He embraced the lessons, believing in the sincerity of his master’s care. His world, once a brutal existence as a lab rat, now seemed to hold a glimmer of warmth and acceptance.
This lasted until the day his master taught him his first spell. Vellok was naturally ecstatic, brimming with the excitement of a new power. Yet, even in his youthful naivety, a flicker of unease should have warned him. The spell was not taught in any conventional way, hinting at the profound and unsettling nature of the magic Vellok was about to wield, and the true, horrifying purpose behind the mage’s twisted affection.
The ancient mage, meticulous in his manipulation, knew that for his sinister plan to succeed, Vellok’s first spell had to be cast under extreme duress. To increase Vellok’s chances of "succeeding" in the mage’s twisted definition, he introduced a terrifying element: a low-tier demon. The creature’s sudden appearance instantly terrified young Vellok, but his master quickly reassured him, claiming it was merely a necessary component for a more successful summoning.
In a horrifying way, the mage wasn’t entirely lying. He skillfully faked a look of surprise, feigning a loss of control as the demon, playing its pre-assigned role, lunged and "chased" the young goblin. Vellok, utterly clueless, missed all the subtle cues that indicated the demon wasn’t genuinely after him. He stumbled, fell repeatedly, his legs growing numb with fear. He’d find temporary hiding places, but the demon, a masterful actor in this cruel charade, ensured it felt like an inescapable nightmare.
It was in this moment of pure terror, when Vellok was at his most vulnerable, that he heard the "saving grace" of his mentor’s voice echoing in his mind, implanting the summoning spell. The mentor’s voice was deliberately weak and fractured, selling the deception perfectly. "My mind is fractured and I have lost control," the mage whispered telepathically, "use the spell. Your summon will help eradicate this demon."
Shuddering in his hiding place, Vellok clung to the weak, desperate voice of his master. The kindness he’d been shown since the mage’s sudden shift in demeanor fueled a brave, if naive, resolve within the young goblin. He had to be brave.
The summoning spell, surprisingly, flowed with an effortless ease for him. Just as the magic began to coalesce, the demon, playing its part to perfection, "discovered" Vellok’s hiding spot and lunged forward, feigning an attempt to grab him. In a surge of pure panic, Vellok unleashed the summoning spell.
Mid-air, a shimmering magic circle materialized. From it emanated a heavenly sound, followed by a blinding flash of light that forced both Vellok and the demon to shut their eyes. As the intense glow subsided and Vellok dared to open his, his eyes widened in astonishment.
Standing before him was a tiny, ethereal being: a baby with small white wings, radiating an innocent charm. It offered Vellok a sweet, trusting smile. "A cherub," the memory resonated with Ikenga as he briefly remembered a religion from his past life.
The cherub, its innocent gaze still fixed on Vellok, turned its attention to the low-tier demon. "You," it chirped, its voice a surprising blend of cuteness and indignation, "how dare you go after such a pure child!"
The demon, however, saw only opportunity. A look of cautious hunger spread across its face. "I get to eat an angel and a pure soul of light," it snarled, lunging towards both of them. "What a delicacy!"
Without hesitation, the cherub positioned itself protectively in front of Vellok. It raised a small hand, and from its palm, a ball of pure, incandescent light shot forth. The demon had barely any time to react before the light made contact, exploding outward. With a guttural roar of agony, the demon was engulfed, dissolving into a pile of ash as if it had never been there.
A frown creased the cherub’s innocent brow. "Something is wrong," it mused, its tone now laced with a hint of confusion. "I know my strength, and that shouldn’t have been enough to do that. It was more like the demon was reverse-summoned."
The cherub, its tiny brow furrowed in confusion over the anomalous "reverse-summon," turned to where the demon had vanished. It was about to voice its concern, to perhaps seek answers from Vellok, when abruptly, its world went black. The stolen memory shifted, plunging Ikenga and Keles into Vellok’s horrified perspective.
Vellok’s eyes were wide with shock, not at the cherub’s sudden disappearance, but at the abrupt, terrifying appearance of his master. What was truly disturbing was the crazy, triumphant smile plastered across the ancient mage’s face—a smile Vellok had never seen before, utterly devoid of the feigned kindness.
Powerless and terrified, Vellok could only watch as his master swiftly seized the unmoving cherub. The mage then placed a hand on Vellok’s head, and once again, darkness consumed everything. The last words Vellok heard, chilling and sinister, echoed in the void: "You did well, child."
The cherub’s disappearance and the mage’s chilling words marked the brutal turn in Vellok’s reality. The facade of kindness crumbled, revealing the mage’s true, indifferent nature. Vellok woke to find himself back in his assigned room, the mage’s once-constant presence gone. There were no more check-ins, no more feigned concern.
Worst of all, the mage’s lab was now locked down, explicitly denying Vellok access. In the eyes of the other goblins, Vellok could see undisguised glee at his sudden fall from grace. This shift in his fellow goblins’ demeanor forced Vellok to see things in a stark, new light. The preferential treatment, the whispered admiration—it had all been a lie, and now he was back among those he had unknowingly, yet painfully, lorded over.
It was during this period of profound disillusionment that Vellok once again began to try and make contact with Kaelen, his older brother, whom he had previously ignored in his elevated state. He desperately recounted his traumatic experience, seeking solace. Kaelen, having lived through far worse and understanding the depths of their harsh world, knew exactly how to console his younger sibling, offering the comfort and perspective Vellok so desperately needed.
The familiar rhythm of mutual support returned between Vellok and Kaelen. It was like their early days, a return to the solace of shared hardship. Kairos, however, remained conspicuously absent, always with the mage who had claimed him. Both brothers understood what this meant: Kairos still held some value for his master. It was the reason they no longer truly saw him as one of their own. Sometimes, they’d catch a fleeting glimpse of him, trailing his master, his face a chilling replica of the naive, trusting expression Vellok himself had once worn before his own traumatic experience.
Years bled into one another, marked by the grinding routine of their existence. Then, one day, a servant appeared and pointed directly at Vellok, gesturing for him to follow. A knot of nervousness tightened in Vellok’s stomach, and he couldn’t even utter a goodbye, for Kaelen too was called out for his own task.
Vellok followed the servant, his apprehension growing with each step. Soon, a chilling realization dawned on him as he recognized the familiar hallway and the imposing door they now stood before. "This was his master’s room and lab."
The heavy door swung inward, revealing his master’s face. A frown initially creased the mage’s brow, but upon seeing Vellok, it melted into a chilling smile. Vellok’s heart hammered in his chest, and he instinctively recoiled a step, fear overriding any control he had over his body.
The mage, seemingly oblivious to Vellok’s terror, spoke, "It’s been a while, my young apprentice. Come, I have something to show you."
Vellok’s mind screamed at him to flee, but his body moved on its own, compelled to follow. The mage led him into a vast, cavernous space. The air hummed with an unseen energy, and all around them, strange, intricate equipment glinted in the dim light. But it was the center of the enormous room that truly seized Vellok’s gaze. There, tethered and confined, was the small, innocent angel child he had summoned. Tears welled in Vellok’s eyes, hot and stinging, as he took in the cherub’s pained and vulnerable state.