Jacob Halls was almost done with the ritual, the eleven toddlers fast asleep in the middle of the pentagram. Jacob was tall, with sandy hair, cold, black eyes, and tan skin. He chanted the last few bars of the ritual, but one child woke up, and started crying. Jacob fumbled the last few words, he cringed, waiting for the punishment of messing up the chant. A wave of forced slammed him against the wall, knocking him out.
Crying woke him up, eleven high voices screaming in pain. Jacob looked up, the children were fine, except that they were screaming. Jacob stood up and inspected them, each of the eleven children had a different mark burned into their chest, the first one who woke had a more intricate mark. Already the marks were fading.
Jacob looked through the dark magic book, searching for the ritual he accidentally cast. He found it, it was exactly the same as the ritual he had meant to cast but the end of the chant was slightly different. The ritual fused the soul of the one in the center of the pentagram with a fragment of a demon. The spell Jacob meant to cast required children as sacrifices, one child for domination over one of the 12 domains of magic. Jacob decided to train these children in combat, to be his personal guard.