Djehuty’s crimes

The new moon brought no mercy as Azrel had warned. Nezra tossed fitfully, dreams plagued by amorphous terrors born from dark musings before sleep. When dawn broke, she rose with a gasp—and found words scrawled on her window in condensation:

"Come alone at midnight. The glade awaits your first test."

Heart pounding, Nezra scrubbed away the inscription and prepared in solemn silence. As night fell, she drove to the forest with an iron dagger discreetly tucked within her cloak, despite promises of solitude.

What sinister trials had the Lord of Lies devised? Nezra half-expected deception and broke multiple additional wards around the perimeter upon arrival, just in case.

Smoke coiled from the trees as Azrel materialized with an oily smile. "You came well-armed, I see. Wise, considering the stakes have risen." He glided closer, trailing claws along the wardline. "For your first task, you must pierce these defenses...and invite me inside willingly."

Nezra withdrew, eyebrows knitting. "Is this some trick, demon? You know I cannot let you wreak havoc in the mortal realm unchecked."

"Oh, I've no designs beyond our agreement here." Azrel waved a negligent hand. "Merely a test of courage, little witch. Dissolve these pretty glows, stand before me weaponless and defenseless...or forfeit all here and now."

His penetrating gaze bored into her very soul. Nezra steeled herself, murmuring a dissolution spell while never breaking eye contact with the monster outside her final barrier. The warding shimmered and died, leaving her exposed under the new moon's faint light.

Azrel glided forward, filling her vision with his towering, nightmarish form. Every fiber screamed to flee or fight yet she stood her ground. His sulfurous breath washed over her upturned face as he loomed directly before the witch without touching. For an endless moment they stared one another down, mortal against immortal.

Finally the demon grinned slowly. "Your mettle pleases me still, Nezra. You pass the first trial." He retreated a single step, claws tapping contemplatively. "Now, what other mysteries shall we unravel tonight?"

Nezra released a shaky breath, steeling herself. "You promised revelations regarding the initiator of that more ancient grimoire, if I succeeded your challenges. I have held up my end—now honor yours, Lord of Lies."

Azrel threw back his horned head and laughed, the sound rattling Nezra's bones. "Very well, you've earned a reward for your bravery. Come, let us away from this place so I may regale you by the firelight..."

He gestured invitingly toward the forest. Against her better instincts, Nezra found herself following the Prince of Deceit deeper into the night-shrouded woods, compelled by promises of dark secrets and her own unslakable appetite for occult knowledge. Little did she know how perilous that path would soon become...

As Nezra trailed Azrel through the moon-washed forest, her pulse throbbed in her ears. Yet curiosity overrode fear; she had come too far to turn back empty-handed.

The demon led her to a secluded glade where blue witch-fire danced upon an obsidian altar. Runes of elder powers shimmered along its ebony surface. Azrel gestured for Nezra to be seated upon a moss-cushioned log, then began circling the flaming stones with a sinuous grace belying his monstrous form.

"The first scribe of that archaic grimoire was not of your world," he began, voice soft yet carrying an edge like razors. "In a time before your gods, a race of twisted entities walked your reality who bred aberrations with your primitive forebears."

Nezra listened, rapt yet disturbed. Azrel's fluid speech wove a dark tapestry unfolding aeons beyond human ken. She dared not interrupt for fear of breaking the fell enchantment.

"From their corrupted loins was born Djehuty, a creature of madness and uncanny intellect. It delved arcane secrets no life was meant to know, crafting blasphemous rituals that yet plague your kind." Flames danced in the demon's eyes, reflecting Nezra's enthralled yet growingly unsettled expression.

"The works Djehuty scribed became your Necronomicon's foundation, though altered and adapted down the blackened corridors of time. Its original name has been lost, as has memory of that abomination which birthed your first fall from ignorant peace into knowledge of the outer gates."

Azrel finished his circling and fixed Nezra with a fiery stare. "Does this sate your craving for dark revelations, little witch? Or shall I regale you further beside these elder flames?"