What demons fear the most?
No, it is not the dying. Technically, demons cannot die anyway. Only be sent back to the fiery pits from whence they came. No, the true terror was isolation. To spend an eternity locked away in a forgotten tomb, feeling your powers slowly vane, until you become no more. A tiny speck of what you used to be, unable to even maintain one's own existence. With nothing else to do, except ponder the eternal questions of the universe. And when those run out - sleep. Until the end of days.
Sleep was almost akin to death. And in Unolath's case, it certainly lasted for several lifetimes. His demonic spirit remained dormant inside the statue, in an effort to conceal energy, and last longer. Days, months, years... dozens of years... Hundreds of years passed. The power slowly vaned, bit by bit. But when there was almost nothing left, something happened... A miracle. A fresh source of power. Like a beam in the dark, or a droplet of water in the hot desert. Not enough to sate, but enough to awaken.
And that awakening triggered the ancient seals that were placed to keep him buried forever. The entire structure collapsed on itself, seeking to doom both the demon inside the statue, and the one who dared touching it. Unolath's consciousness awakened in a state of panic and fear. One chance was given to him to escape, one visitor in a thousand years... He was not going to let it waste!
The serpent statue's eyes focused on the boy, who made a run for the door. That was going to be his savior. That one had to survive, if there was any hope of escape. A source of spiritual power, a way out... A way to regaining that which was lost. But his journey was about to be cut short by a falling beam, which would smash his head into tiny bits! Unolath could not allow that to happen.
In a split second before the impact, a dark lightning crossed the room, striking the boy, his body becoming pitch-black as it wrapped around his body, like a protective layer. On top of his head, a helmet formed, which took the powerful blow, and made the difference between death and unconsciousness, before the rubble buried him underneath. The black protective shell would wrap around the donkey, like armor, shielding from harm. But if he were to remain buried for long, the lack of oxygen would finish what the support beam had started. The demon had to wake him up... or consume his energy and last himself a while longer. Soon, the donkey-boy would hear a voice inside his head. A powerful, hissing voice, but with a hint of desperation behind it.
"Wake up! Damn it, you human fool... WAKE UP!"