Thank the heavens for the freaking weekend! Yugyeom let me borrow his book, so I think I'm just gonna spend the weekend reading up on who this kid was.

-Mark

Mark sighed happily as he sat on his King sized bed. A light rain had lulled most of the city into a state of tranquility, the faint sounds of cars and trucks going by only happening once every twenty minutes.

The book was very ornate: bold colours outlined the ornate golden lettering in a script that Mark didn't recognize.

"Now, let's find out what happened to you..." he whispered.

Joachim Wu (1410-1429) was the son of Xiaoqin Wu and Lorette Augustine. Although exact locations are unknown, many historians agree he was born somewhere around modern Hong Kong. When his father heard of his birth, he ordered the exile of his lover and son to Paris, France. It was there Joachim became aware of his mother's occupation as a French e, witnessing on many accounts his mother openly engaging in with both men and to a much lesser extent women.

Mark took a deep breath as he read. "Dang, so she didn't even care that her baby was in the same room? Twisted..."

At age nine is when many scholars believe Joachim began to practice witchcraft, when he supposedly cut off the tail and paws of a cat, gouged its eyes, and hung it in the woods as a sacrifice to the Devil. At age eighteen, he began to have a secret relationship with the son of one of his mother's suitors sometime around 1429. When the father of his lover found them in his bedroom, Joachim was tried and found guilty of witchcraft. He was to be burned at the stake at the age of nineteen. In his final moments, it is said he called out to the lust demon Asmodeus, the King of the Nine Hells and ruler over the domain of lust. Asmodeus was said to grant him a place in his court as an incubus.

Mark closed his eyes momentarily, taking in the information. "So what's this spell they told me about?" he sighed, flipping through the page, causing a small slip of paper to fall onto his blankets. "What's this?" he thought. The paper seemed a tad burned, but mostly intact with scribbled writing:

pour appeler au feu

I nunc amit me te amare simul Joachim quoque sicerit in me ex caritate

Mark looked at the paper carefully, pushing his fingers through his hair as he made his way to the desk. "Am I really doing this?" he mumbled, copying the words into his journal.

pour appeler au feu

I nunc amit me te amare simul Joachim quoque sicerit in me ex caritate

Author's Notes here