This was a bad idea.
Jazz really wished he weren't so very much aware of just how bad an idea it was. But as a practising Warlock and creation of Tamborin himself, he knew every single detail that could go wrong summoning an Alpha Class entity.
Death and eternal torture in some other dimension suddenly looked very likely.
For a moment he hesitated, kneeling in front of the summoning circle, the five small fires the only thing lighting the room. The shadows moved and danced and he shuttered his optics.
'Primus, give me strength,' he prayed.
Then he began the summoning ritual.
Magic was not an easy art to learn. Many were created with the gift to use it, but every Talent blossomed into a different shape. Some were good with fire, some with air, some others at healing. Many could only do minor things and this was, all things considered, a good thing.
The more power you had, the more dangerous magic became, until it could only be used with exact incantations and symbols and movements, else it ripped you apart and left you for dead.
As Jazz began speaking the old, melodic words, he wondered if the Cybertronians shouldn't just leave everything that used more than three words alone. His song lasted nearly twelve breems, and by then he felt the magic brewing around him like a thunderstorm. It caressed his frame, choked his intakes, howled at the bounds he set.
"I summon thee. Hunter of the Dark Plains, Prowler of the Shadows, Carrier of scales. I summon thee!"
For one unbearable moment, the planet itself didn't seem to move. Then the magic crashed into the middle of the circle, forming a tidal wave that made Jazz scream and whiteout.
When he opened his optics again, he was lying on the floor and everything was silent. Blinking, his optics focused on a very black pede in front of his face. He blinked some more, and then slowly – so very slowly – he looked up.
"Oh," he said. Above him towered something that looked like a mech, if not for the massive sensorwings at his back. He was adorned in a simple black and white colour scheme, the black so dark that it looked like holes in the universe, while the white parts made him want to look away. In the beautiful, harsh face sat two ice blue optics that stared back with disparagement.
The entity didn't move at all. Despite this, sudden fear ran through Jazz's spark, when he realised just what exactly stood in front of him. Hastily, he scrambled to stand and noticed with relief that it was still standing inside the circle.
He bit back a groan from the splitting helmet ache and offered the entity a half smile. Always be polite, and it might not eat you, was sound advice for any Warlock or summoner.
"Ah, thank you for coming," he said. "I hope it doesn't inconvenience you?"
The demon looked at him coolly and said nothing.
"Right. I guess you know how this goes then?"
Nothing. Jazz fidgeted. It was one thing to summon a harmless, weak and barely sentient elemental to help with some work. This thing was neither of them; if anything it likely was more intelligent and experienced than Jazz. More powerful went without saying. But he needed to do this.
"So, see I found myself with a small problem, and I would like you to help me. You swear servitude to me and to not harm me and in exchange you can leave that circle. Do you accept?"
An amused huff, and the Alpha entity made a step forward. Jazz scrambled back, before he realised that the thing now only stood at the very edge of the circle. "No, summoner," it said with a deep, surprisingly normal voice. "I don't."
Well. Shit. Jazz gulped. "But you will not be able to leave the circle."
"So, I wait until I can, or something lets me out." The thing smiled with the glee of a predator. "Something always lets me out."
"Right." Jazz tried to calm his racing spark. "But they won't let ya out for free."
The entity's optics narrowed. "Probably not, no."
"So… why not at least consider my deal?"
"Of unlimited servitude? Possibly forever or you draining my powers until nothing is left?" A dark growl made the walls vibrate and Jazz shudder with primeval fear. "If you really think me this stupid, I wonder how you survived so far."
Jazz looked away, feeling a bit guilty. "I didn't think –"
"Obviously. No summoner that summons me alone in some basement, just to lose consciousness, is thinking." The Alpha entity scrutinises Jazz. "But I guess you are desperate, aren't you? This isn't your home, you are dirty, your optics are pale – this ritual must have taken your last energon reserves. Say, summoner, are you being hunted?"
Definitely very intelligent. Jazz gritted his teeth, and decided to go for broke. Fuck the advice for Warlocks and Summoners, he had nothing left to lose but his spark. "Yes," he confirms and enjoys the look of surprise on its face. "My creator was called Tamborin. He was the High Summoner in the Prime's employ… a quartex ago he summoned Megatron himself inside the city of Iacon and turned him loose."
"I have heard of this," interrupted the entity. "But Lord Protector Megatron was defeated. Why would you need me?"
"You are a Hunter, an Avenger; you bring bloodied and cruel Justice," Jazz recited from the book. "That's what I need. I want to find the murderers of my creator and eliminate all the small demons and entities that managed to enter this dimension through the Breach that resulted from the battle between Megatron and Optimus Prime."
The entity stills. "That is a tall order." The sensor wings flick. "But it is my purpose as well."
"So, you will do it?"
"I will not call you Master and kneel just because our interests happen to align, Cybertronian," sneered the entity. "But I am open for negotiation."
Jazz vented. Okay, negotiations he could do. That was already far better than he had expected. For example, his frame wasn't ripped apart yet and his spark caged in another dimension.
"Okay… you serve me until the murderers are brought to justice and all those that escaped through the Breach are banished. You don't have to call me Master or kneel. But I do insist on a collar." Only with a collar he could truly control the entity and prevent… well things like Megatron happened to Iacon.
"I serve as your Hunter for the murderers and as Banisher of the trash that entered this dimension, until they are found and destroyed and as long as it doesn't irreparably harm me, or bring me extraordinary pain. When this is done, you are to serve me," said the entity.
Jazz shuddered. "I serve you for the same amount of time then, under the same conditions."
The Alpha entity smiled. "Clever wording, little summoner. But I have no need for a Hunter or Guide."
Jazz mutely stared spark throbbing with desperation. "What then?"
"You serve me for the same time. No irreparable harm may befall you and no pain beyond your limits you shall experience. That seems equal in value. Do you accept?"
There was no chance he would get a better deal. Truthfully, the being had already shown a surprising mercy by limiting harm. "I do," he choked out.
A pleased rumble akin to thunder shook the room. "Then come to me, summoner."
Anxiously, he stepped forward at the circle's edge. The entity stepped back. He hesitated, then he crossed the protection wards. For a moment, he expected instant death and pain and worse – but as he looked up again to it, nothing had happened. It hadn't betrayed him. "I think a kiss is the traditional way?"
"It is," confirmed the entity, and flared its sensorwings in a spectacular display. "Tell me your designation."
"Jazz." He shuffled. "I couldn't find in the book anything about yours…"
"Just call me Prowl." With a smirk the entity stepped forward and caught Jazz, who squeaked in surprise, in his arms. Yet before Jazz could regain his footing enough to say or do anything, the entity leaned forward and pressed soft lips upon his own.
Warm magic flooded him, and he moaned into the kiss. A hot tongue invaded his mouth, while the magic's fires burned hotter and hotter. He squirmed, trying to get away, but the arms were like vices and he couldn't move, couldn't even turn away his head anymore as he was ravaged and plundered and taken by the magic. Prowl knew no mercy, didn't move away and Jazz burned in his arms, sobbing for relief.
Eventually, an eternity or seconds later, Prowl gave him one last peck on the lips and had Jazz crumble in his arms.
"It is done," whispered the demon.