Maundy Thursday, Ancient Well, Castille Forest
A sinkhole inside the forest of Castille housed an ancient well where a slab made of concrete-like material covered the top. The well was submerged in the soil, and the covering was the only thing visible. Weathered by the elements and hidden beneath the undergrowth, the strange symbols etched on the covers were pulsating and glowing red.
Eight cloaked figures surrounded the ancient well, holding hands while chanting hair-raising chants. Their eyes were closed, and none of them let the fading rays of the sun kiss their skin. In fact, the longer they chant, the dimmer the light of the day gets. Clouds slowly eclipsed the sunlight and it was as if a storm was brewing in the area. As the chants gained momentum, the symbols on the slab were also glowing brighter, the red light was blinding until it burst towards the surrounding area.
As their chants came to a halt, the glowing and pulsating etchings on the slab slowly dulled and melted into the material as if the symbols there were just a figment of imagination. Everything went still. The wind stopped and even the animals in the forest lay still as if they were stunned.
"Regina, we are almost there. Our Lords would soon walk among us." Ernesto said, breaking the silence.
"I know. Our brethren around the world would rejoice once they would see the signs. We must guard this place brothers and sisters, or else, it would take us another 300 hundred years to wait for the thinning of the veils." Regina replied.
She looked around their encampment searching for signs of weakness or tampering. Upon making sure that everything was still in order, she permitted herself to sit cross-legged on the ground. Her companions followed suit and they rested.
"How many hours till sundown?" Regina asked her companion.
A high-pitched raspy voice of a woman replied "Just under 1 hour Regina."
"Thank you, Trinidad. I would ask this one last time, are you all prepared to be sacrificed for the freedom of our Lords?" Regina looked every one of her companions in the eye while asking this question.
"The King of the Fallen will take care of our souls and the souls of those we brought to him in sacrifice." The group chorused.
"Glory to the King," Regina responded.
Although darkness was fast approaching, the group just sat cross-legged, never moving from their position in the circle. They never took their dinner, instead, each person can be seen with their heads down, holding a black, hard-bound book, tightly in their hands.
As midnight approached, the first stirring of movements from the group came. With practiced movements, everyone took a large candle in their bags. The women were holding red candles while the men were in charge of the black ones. Each candle was about a foot tall, and an inch in diameter.
The group uttered six words at the same time, before planting the candles on the ground in front of them. A second later, the candles lit themselves. The group was not surprised at all but smiled at each other, and then they said "We summon through the veil, those who reside in the Seventh World. The Fallen, chosen by the King as his legion. Come forth and reclaim your rightful place, for you to rule, and for you to damn. May this place become your sacred ground, and no creature of light shall prevail. Please accept your humble servant's sacrifice, and may the King of the Fallen, welcome us with open hearts in hell."
Upon saying this, the eight of them simultaneously called the ancient names of the Fallen. These names are only known to the few who studied the old scriptures, names that are as old as time.
Then, when the wicker of the candle was almost at its end, they all raised their knives and struck their hearts, letting their blood flow on the ground.