Count Luke Duma stood in a hidden sanctum beneath his library. Only the head of the Duma family knew about this sanctum and how to enter it. It was a secret from a time when the Dumas were a small sect of vampire hunters before their entry into the noble society.
The family heads knew that they could only come down here when it was absolutely necessary otherwise it was not best to enter the area at all.
A massive labyrinth of books and lamps moved in every direction plausible. The Count dared not move further. He waited, patiently, at the entrance with a big bag slung over his back.
The lights flickered and went out yet the Count kept his composure, when the lights turned on again, he was no longer at the entrance. He never knew where he was when they came on but as usual, a woman of extraordinary beauty, eyes and hair like shadows and lips like death stood before him with a book in her hands.
"You have interrupted my reading, Count. You know the rules. This better be important or I will seal the doors into this place for a hundred years." Her voice had a slight bass to it added with hints of mana and annoyance.
"The Count Duma greets the Keeper of Knowledge." Luke was cordial, he knew she was not joking nor was he able to fight her.
The Keeper did not respond. She had, had a deal with this family since the laws of Hell began to change. It was a mutually beneficial agreement but it did not mean she actually acknowledged as anything other than a means of convenience.
"What do you want?" Her voice was cold and lacked any sense of respect.
"Some time ago one of my sons went missing. He was seeing the world the way people his age often do." The Count looked at the demoness while he spoke trying to gauge her mood. "He died..."
"Count Duma, I do not care. The death of one pup from your litter does not qualify you to seek me. If you have a point, I suggest you get to it quickly before I reunite you with you boy."
"Yes, Keeper. I beg your forgiveness. The point is that my son had the summoning ritual and the temporary aid of a fallen king of Hell. Both my son and this fallen king are dead as well as a bishop from the Theocracy. I cannot tell what happened, the magic used, the powers used are beyond my comprehension. I ask for your intervention."
"Show me." the Keeper commanded.
"I thank you." the Count set down the back that he carried and emptied it onto the floor. Two decayed corpses lay between him and the Keeper. A foul odour escaped but neither the Keeper nor the Count cared.
The demoness raised her head and looked at the corpses. One was the descendant of the Count and the other was a demon who had been born after she left Hell but whose bloodline she recognised. Her interest was piqued.
She walked over to the two corpses and stretched out her pale hand, sending a part of her consciousness into their bodies to determine their cause of death, the power signature from the one that killed them and also to sate her own curiosity. The result was beyond her expectations.
'Lowly demon, you dare?!' A dark malevolent voice spoke in her head.
The demoness howled in pain, her nose began to bleed and her eyes cried blood.
'You dare?!' the voice asked again.
"Mercy!" The Keeper pleaded. The Count was stunned and unable to decide what to do.
'Do you not know your place? You dare spy on your betters?' The voice echoed in her head.
She tried to withdraw her consciousness but felt as if it were stuck. More of her identity, personality was actually being pulled in.
"Who are you?!" She asked in terror. A feeling she had not felt since the day she was created.
'You do not recognised the power of your Creator. Failure!' The voice roared.
"Impossible! You are dead!"
'Just because you say it, does it make it true? I am beyond you. I created you. I own you. Kneel!'
The demoness could not fight it. It instantly felt as though she were a mortal and carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her knees went down and crashed on the floor. Piles of books toppled over and the section of the labyrinth threatened to cave in.
'Seek me and seek your redemption.' the voice trailed off and disappeared.
The suppressive aura, the pull, the Keeper had felt disappeared completely without a trace. She quickly withdrew herself and her hand from the corpses, stood up and, in horror, put distance between herself and the two dead bodies.
"Keeper..." The Count began but was quickly cut off.
"You are a fool!" the Keeper roared. "You are a b*stard and you beget a b*stard! You are a boar, your wife a sow and thus you brought into this world a swine of a son! Your loins will be the death of me!"
The Count did not know how to react. In all the years that the Keeper had helped the Duma Family never had she shown such...emotion or uttered such vulgarity. She was know to keep her composure even when she killed some of his ancestors and refused aid for a century.
Never had she been so livid. It was know that the demoness liked alcohol. The Count attempted to offer as much as her heart desired but this was a mistake.
"Wine? You offer me wine when my life may be over?!" She roared and the walls shook again.
"Keeper..." The Count wanted to reach some kind of agreement.
"No! I am Lady Lillian of the first estate of Hell. I am your Keeper no longer. Your son messed with a force that is ancient. More ancient than I. The only reason that I do not kill you here and now is because the Father of races might want to end you himself. I am done with you Duma and your piglet got what he deserved!"
Lillian did not give the Count any face. She all her books on fire and disappeared. The Count wanted to reach her or at least collect the bodies but he found himself in the above ground library once again.
He tried to enter the sanctum a dozen times but the gate would not open. It was as if it had never existed.
The Count slumped down in a chair and pondered.
'The Father of Races?' This was a term the Count had never heard before. He did not know if it was a god or a demon. He could only guess as to whom his idiot son had offended.