Daemerungslied: Empyrean Shadows

Chapter 5

Heading into the savanna, mahogany and kapok trees are quickly replaced with acacia and baobab, and the ocelots and jaguars are replaced with servals and lions. The heat is intense, the sun a blazing hammer that beats down on them without mercy. The Dark Luminaries march through the tall grass, their eyes peeled for any sign of the next Ars Goetia. The landscape is vast and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the claustrophobic jungle they've just left behind.

Mara, her red hair tied back to keep the heat at bay, points out a disturbance in the distance. A swirl of dust, the size of a tornado, spirals upwards into the sky. "Looks like we're not the only ones who've heard the savanna's siren call," she says, her grip tightening on her twin blades.

"Remember," Mortilda says, "that the term 'demon' doesn't strictly mean a creature is malevolent in nature. The Ars Goetia are bound by ancient pacts, and their actions are as varied as the lands we walk upon." Her words hang heavy in the air, a reminder that their mission is not just about destruction, but understanding. "The word 'demon' refers to any type of supernatural being that isn't dragon, fae or ghoul. They are simply part of the balance we must uphold."

Stolas, the owl prince of the Ars Goetia, perched atop a distant acacia tree, observed the Dark Luminaries with a curious tilt of his head. His feathers ruffled slightly in the warm breeze, the shimmering emeralds adorning his neck glinting in the sunlight. He had felt the disturbance of Valac's banishment and knew that the heroes were approaching. His eyes, a piercing yellow, never leave the group as he sizes them up.

"Greetings, travellers!" Stolas's voice can be heard across the savanna, a sound as unexpected as the creature it belonged to. The Dark Luminaries squint into the sun, spotting the owl-like figure perched atop the acacia tree.

"I am Stolas!" the owl demon exclaims, his voice a meld of sophistication and amusement. "I've been expecting you. The echoes of Valac's demise have traveled quite the distance. Tell me, are you here to challenge me as well?"

The Dark Luminaries exchange wary glances, but Mortilda steps forward, her scythe at the ready. "We come to restore balance to Vyranthos," she declares. "If you stand in our way, we will be forced to pass through you.

"I mean to ill will," Stolas says, "but if you want, I can share with you some knowledge. I can tell you everything you need to know about astrology, herblore or even jewellery crafting." His tone is light-hearted, a stark contrast to the ominous presence of the Ars Goetia they've been warned about.

"We do not seek to fight unless provoked," Platinum replies. "We simply pilgrims on a quest to prevent the unraveling of our world." Despite his mischievous appearance, his words carry an ancient weight, hinting at the wisdom of his ancestor, Sun Wukong.

Stolas's eyes glint with curiosity. "Ah, so you're not just warmongers. How refreshing. But beware, young heroes. Each member of the Ars Goetia is bound by different pacts. Some may be swayed by your noble intentions, others... less so." He hops down from the tree, his owl form gracefully transforming into a robed, human-like figure with piercing yellow eyes. "I am guardian of the next seal you seek. But I shall not fight you today. Instead, I propose a test of wit and skill. Prove yourselves worthy, and I shall grant you passage to the seal."

"What do you want us to do?" Mara asks, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the savanna. Stolas's smile widens, revealing a hint of mischief in his expression.

"A simple contest," the owl demon replies. "A puzzle that, when solved, will show me the true depth of your unity and intelligence. Should you succeed, I shall grant you access to the seal. Should you fail, however..." His words trail off, leaving the grim fate of their failure to hang in the air.

The group shares a look of determination. They've come too far to turn back now. "We accept," Mortilda says firmly.

Stolas's grin broadens as he presents a wooden box, intricately carved with symbols of the cosmos. "Within this box," he says, "lies a puzzle that has tested the greatest minds of Vyranthos. Solve it, and the path to the seal will be clear."