The Pit Lord

Summoning and Stories

Samuel Kingfin, Son of Poseidon, Brother of Percy Jackson, sighed as he brushed his pitch black hair out of his eyes.

Today was the not just the Winter Solstice.

Today was the day that all of Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter, New Rome, The Hunters of Artemis, Lupa's Pack, Artemis and Lupa themselves, and the goddess of magic Hecate herself, came together to request information on Perseus Jackson.

They were going to perform a spell that only Hecate had done before and she had very nearly faded when she used it on her own.

They were going to summon a Pit Lord of Tartarus.

A being of such immense power that for one to be summoned required massive amounts of energy, energy that could be taken from numerous people and beings without too much difficulty. The one they were going to summon was one that beat all others in terms of power.

One that was simply named, 'The Wyrm Emperor.'

He turned from his cabin and walked out to see that the ritual had been prepared already. He turned to the three goddesses aiding them in the spell, and bowed. "Thank you for helping us do this spell, Ladies Artemis, Lupa, and Hecate."

The three inclined their heads to him. "It is the least we could do, Samuel. After all, you have been helping Hecate and her children in their search for this spell and the majority of the materials for it, have you not?" Artemis asked.

Sam nodded. "Yes, milady. I have been doing what I can to help them with their search. If all goes according to plan, we will have the information we want."

Lupa sighed. "Good."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Agreed. Shall we go?"

Together, the three of them walked over to the middle of the camp, which had a massive altar set in the middle of an even bigger magic circle.

Hecate and Samuel, along with Hecate's children, all walked to the center of the circle, close to the altar, while the rest of the participants took their places elsewhere in the circle.

Samuel turned to Hecate. "Would you do the honors, please?"

Hecate immediately began chanting in the language of magic. Everyone else began chanting at different times, with different chants. The other chants weren't necessary, but Hecate had figured out that if there a bunch of people doing different supporting chants, instead of just the one, there would be a great deal less strain on the primary caster.

After a couple minutes, when everybody had been chanting for at least a minute, the circle began to glow a bright purple, the color hurting some people's eyes, but the glow died down a little, only for bright green flames to appear in midair, slowly opening to reveal a portal to Tartarus.

It reached man-sized.

Then dragon-sized.

Then drakon-sized.

Then giant-sized.

Then Olympus-sized. By this point people were wondering just how big it needed to be.

Then it reached a size that we don't even have words for, other than, 'bigger-than-Olympus-sized-but-smaller-than-the-Underworld-or-the-sea.'

Then came the being they were looking to summon.

Black, red, purple, green, and blue could be seen covering the dragon from tip to tip, the blue, purple and green seen as tattoos that sprawled across its immense frame, and the ruby red swirling into the pitch black as his scales.

It looked over all of them, his gaze seemingly looking straight into their souls, measuring, judging, contemplating them.

It looked down at the people closest to it, which was still pretty far away from its foot, and spoke.