The Book of The Damned

And ye; before the book itself existed, in the time before the
Great Slumber, the time of Magyck, when all was good, it was believed upon death that souls became Magyck, and the Magyck would determine the course of the soul; whether to become the wind or the water itself, to become the currents from which we draw upon for our Magyck, or to become as elementals themselves. It was believed the Magyck equalized us, turning our souls for its use, as we once used the Magycks soul.

[Inside Cover]

Book of the Damned Prologue


The Fall of Chiel, as recounted by Lounce, son of Sheraflone, witness and member of the battle of Twin Rivers, recorded and appended to The Book of the Damned at 323 post Sealing

“He pressed his back against a tree, drawing up another arrow. He flung himself out of the cover, firing the arrow at the onrush of the demon. His long, braided ponytail followed behind him, whipping around like a fiery serpent of death.
‘Chiel! Get back!’ I howled.
A sachron rushed towards Chiel like a spider zipping along the side of a wall. It jumped in the air, unfurling it’s two underbelly appendages. Chiel had witnessed these scythes cut fully armored men to pieces. Venom sluiced off the end of the claws.
Cheil back stepped, drawing an arrow, and his ankle glanced off a stone. He went down, sprawling on the forest floor. The sachron leapt above him, maw unclenched, razors thirsting for blood. An arrow caught the monster mid-abdomen, pinning it to a nearby evergreen. Its black blood surged forth, boiling and hissing as it splashed among the pine needles matted to the ground beneath. Chiel hurriedly rolled out from the black rain.
There was no time for word of thanksgiving. Xla’s and relnits swarmed the hillside, thrashing against the brethren; Chiel’s mind reeled in horror as men fell and died.
The sun would set in sorrow this day.
A gruesome xla appeared in Chiel’s path. Its multi-horned skull had seen goring recently, for it was drenched with remains. It wielded the sword of black; for men knew not else to dub it, for the steel was not of their world. It came crashing down as a tidal wave breaks on shore, with thunderous reception it sang. Chiel parried the blow with his own blade, steel of man, extension of his own self, his own will to live.
Man and demon clashed. Attacks exchanged force. Chiel saw an opening and took it, gutting the beast and leaving a stain upon the earth.
‘Chiel!’ Again a voice of a comrade called to him; again it was one he did not recognize.
‘Chiel! The demons return!’
Chiel yanked his sword from out of the xla, letting his eyes linger on the doings of his sword. When he lifted them he saw a wave of fire, a sundering of vision. A heat blur rolled before him, enthroned in flame. It tumbled and made invisible the demons, which departed with a cloud of ashen smoke.
A sizzling as of that on a heated skillet over fire crackled and popped. Sachron blood was upon Chiel. It must have fallen on him when the demon was shot unto the tree. He removed his blackened glove as it caught flame, as the blood is wont to do on the wool of the sheep. Droplets from the cast article flew onto him, splotching his arm. The splotch spread and darkened his flesh.
I was within distance to aid. I flew towards him, running as fast I know how, to sever his arm from his body, lest he become as soot under our feet.
The wave that cleansed the earth rolled onward, lustrating the demons from our realm. The trees buckled as it drew close, and Chiel gripped his arm with an intense fury. His veins were sprouting and coming to the surface. The blackness of the demon spread onward; up towards his elbow joint, when the flaming wave drew nigh.
Chiel grasped his arm at the bicep and looked upward unto the sky as I lurched to remove his affliction and save him from certain death. Just then his eyes locked with mine, and in them, such suffering, and such pain. The wave rolled onto us, and I witnessed our brother Chiel become as ashen smoke that drifted away with the tumbling wave of fire.”

[End inside cover]

Chapter 1


I will scribble these thoughts of mine whilst I am inclined to do so, for I am now safe, for the moment. Where shall I start? Many strange and profound things have occurred; in them I have found myself a small part. If I recall correctly, for everything of my former existence is in question, I was entwined in battle for my life, at the place where the Twin River meets the Copper River; also known in my age, the age of men living after the Great Sealing and Slumber of the Magycks, as the River of Blood.
I, Chiel, was in flurry amongst the demons that plagued the land in my time, for my time may be apart; for I know not if they plague the world any longer now; for I also believe time works differently here on this plane. I also believe that the cause of the demons intrusion was due to a certain mortal quieting the magyck, which happened, if I exist now in the age of men, three hundred twenty years ago. I will not defile this page with the name of the one who caused the Slumber, but I will ascertain this: according to the lore of men, the demons first appeared just a year after the Great Sealing.
We, the men of the kingdom Twin River, were being hemmed in on every side. We lashed out; I among them, and stole over to what seemed to be the main foci of the enemy, fighting our way through the demons. East of the city it was; and just upon the crest of yon hill I fought the foe.
A Sachron nearly cleaved me, yet I was saved by he whom is unbeknownst to me; he shot an arrow into the Sachron, saving my life. Alas, twas not well enough, as some of the foul demon blood soiled my skin. Notice I did not, for I engaged more of my enemy, an xla, a bane of nature and men. And I slew it; and from there beheld a sundering of my vision, an ocean tide enwreathed in lava. When the wave of fire came, the collecting fire, the fire that returns the demons back whence they’ve come, I myself was cast along with them; for the black blood had penetrated my skin, and made me partial.
I met eyes with Lounce son of Sheraflone, and that was last in my gaze before all was black. I could not see, but I could hear. I could not move, but I could feel. A great wind rushed all around me, almost like I dove from a cliff. The sound of swarming bees gathered around me, making all sorts of racket, and I was stung. All over myself, as though my mail was no longer on, I was stung. I began to yell and to wail, but found my voice had left me, as though it abandoned my body which was, as I clearly remember, being tormented by what felt like stinging bees.
A time passed, and a light bright as the sun of high afternoon entered into my vision, and I shut my eyes. My eyes! I realized I was seeing again, looking at what appeared to be a night sky, only it was day. Blazing down on me, was the light of day, but littered in the great expanse above me, was what appeared to be twinkling stars!
Soon, I found myself lying on my back, under the enormous sky. I began to sit up,
and immediately felt the stabbing of knives in my skull. I was upon my back and it
burned like coals. I was on some barren, sandy dry land. The sand was blood red and coarsely sharp. In the distance, I could squint and make out towers of a sort, but they blurred into sky and cloud. The clouds were a hue of violet, just as when a storm breaks. I began coughing. Alas, I was not dead. The wind was very harsh, and painful to breathe. Everything hurt, even my lungs! This place is unnatural! And I began to contemplate where I was, or if I was dreaming…If only it had been that!
A dream! But it was not meant to be. As I am, I thank the Eleven Above that I still live, but then, within the tortuous pain bore, I would have rather been in the grave with my fallen brethren, for I know I would not be here!
For I have seen the souls of the damned enter this place where no natural magyck thrives, but instead a terrible force devours. I have seen many and terrible things, wondrous things, and things that mortal men can never conceive in their living minds, lest they suffer the same dreadful fate as I, and are summoned to this deathly plane. I once believed I was on the surface of the world, or doomed in death, but I know the truth, the truth that I am not in some desert or rocky terrain of the Realm, but on a different plane, a plane in which demons and their masters bide, where cruelty finds its lifeblood, where to live is to suffer, and where from the lore of Those Below and Above were birthed; I am not in the land of the living, but the land of the god, the goddess, and the immortal; indeed, I am out of place.
Chapter 2


There is water in the flesh here, an idea startling to me still as my lungs continuously suffer from the harsh air. Without her I would most certainly no longer be alive at this moment, jotting these notes down as fast as my hand can carry my pen. But as I was saying: Water in the flesh. It is true, relnits is how I am still living now, because we sustained our life upon them; whether this is mortal sin or not is yet to be told. The Eleven Above have forsaken me.
As I stayed dumbfounded by all around me, I came to notice that out of this red desert emerged life. Malicious life. Life that wanted mine.
Demons had begun to crawl towards me, ones that I recognized and ones that I did not. Some even surfaced from the sand. Sachrons there were, and other demonic entities as well. They were of the less man-like demons, more the beast-kind. Immediately I sensed I was in danger, and became bodily aware of myself.
I looked as if I’d jumped through a blazing fire. I was indeed still in my leather armoring, with my mail underneath, albeit everything was scorched. And lo! My sword had endured unscathed. I wielded it, fending off the demons which encroached upon me.
They seemed to be as numerous as the twinkling lights in the day sky, as they continued to pour from the dunes and engage me. These demons were demons nonetheless, but appeared to be smaller and less aggressive, as if perhaps only the strong are sent to invade our Realm. Ha! I am glad she was never sent…
This plane never sleeps, it is always day, a human man as myself is not meant to be here. A swarm of creatures I have deemed Techanns just attacked. I will manage to write my account around my now bloodstained parchment. It seems to be years ago since I wrote here last, but I know it is not so. Where was I? The demons were pouring from the sands, for I shall not call it “earth” because here, there is no soil, no green thing, and no running water. Only blood and death lives here, blackness and ice.
I parried their continuous assaults, managing to come away with naught but some scratches and nicks.
I was soaked in the blood of the other; however, I did not burn or steam. I believe it is because here, here in this place, my blood boils, and not the demons. Undoubtedly, the sand is blood red for a reason.
The onslaught continued until I was in tatters, shredded and beaten down, worn out and discouraged. The creatures came at me less and less, but each time, they grew harder to suspend. I was weakened beyond extremity, but I pressed on. At that point, if aye, I recall correctly, I had thus calculated that I was in the demon plane, and some immeasurable force drove me to strive to live, liked the caged wildebeest that attacks his keepers, as the sword is being driven in.
Up until this point, having not known, I was backing up, facing the demons which were hemming me in. I felt no ground behind me, and I fell backwards, falling for a spell and colliding with ice. Were it not for my mail, I believe I would have been broken, as a shovel strikes the bedrock. I clambered to my feet upon the ice, and looked back from where I fell.
Extraordinarily, I found that the fall was incredibly high, a height from which no mortal man could possibly survive, even if armored. It was as high as the northern tower in castle Twin River, nay, higher still. Standing there momentarily, I noted that the wall from which I fell was sheer like a cliff, but it was not soil, instead, to my great horror, the cliff was filled with human and demon skeletons, remains of the fallen of some great war, intermingled with the blood red sands. It now dawns on me that this is a great mystery, for I now possess knowledge that conflicts. I am here as a result of the great rolling wave of fire that brings the demons back, and the souls of the damned that come here, they do not arrive in bodily fashion. This place is ancient, ancient indeed.
The ice was not natural, but more similar to salt in coloration, and not cold. It was, however, slippery and opaque like the ice of the Realm, but not wet either. Beneath it could be seen a vast dungeon of otherworldly construct of some white stone, whose whereabouts I do not wish to explore.
Regaining my composure, I glanced about me, for sudden fear of demons cascading down from the cliff. Nay, several Sachron, with their spider-like fashioned faces, peered down from high above the dune, gazing upon me with the green luster of their orbs. All at once, the party retreated from sight, as if my viewing them appeased them.
All sense of direction for me was skewed; it mattered not. To live was to hope, and to hope is to carry on. I turned from that cliff wall, and gazed upon the great outstretch of ice before me. I am not a seafaring man, but have seen the ocean a few times in my day. It was similar, for I could see nothing of the land beyond the ice.
I cursed Those Above for their cruelty and threw off my blood splattered helm. I stomped and gave a great howl to those mocking stars above me, to the purple wispy clouds that drifted like the remains of a great forest fire. There was no where to go, and wherefore to go anyways? I relapsed once more into a sense of hopelessness, viewing as the cliff side stretched onward in both directions behind me as well, as far as the mortal eye can see.
I collected my helm and began the great trek. Alas, I must pause in my writing now, for she tells me more danger approaches. I wonder if I am viewed as the invader and my blood the foreign irritant, accursed by the demon-kind. I wonder many things, but wondering about things when demons are nigh is folly, she [There appears to be more written, but the page is torn and ripped]

Chapter 3

I am writing now more out of thankfulness of breathing and thinking conscious thoughts than of anything. It was terrible. The techanns came with a great force of xla, and each was heavily armored. Only the grizzly horns that protrude from the helm of the xla were not armored; the techanns, which I named after a venomous snake from Twin River, had fully armored backsides save where they crawl along the ground with their bellies, those remained uncovered. I feel as that we will not reside in this cave much longer. Too many times have demons attacked us, and it is now clear that they were sent with a fell purpose, or knew that we resided here, and did not just chance upon us.
I am hurt badly, but she is very powerful, birthed from the immortal herself I begin to assume. I suspect she will heal me whereupon I make a noise through suffering.
I must now continue, though I dread the following. I began my trek on the icy plain, wandering without celestial guidance or map or aid. The stinging of my eyes, caused not from the blood and grime of the battle with the demons, but from the putrid air and harsh winds, had begun to cease a fraction, but still it felt like twigs in my eyes and sickles in my chest. My lungs suffered. I remember at one moment, thinking of my body as a great exploding mountain, one that rains down lava and sulfur. A volcano, I believed they are called in the Realm, that world that is so distant to my soul now.
I trekked on. Foot after foot, with my head lowered so that the lights in the sky might not witness the life in my eyes, I trekked on. The weather here never changes. It is always red with lazy purple clouds that spew lighting from time to time, that drift from the evil winds of the south, if south is indeed where it blows from. There is no sun here.
It is always hot, hot like midsummer under the direct sunlight, not in the shade of a willow, or by the creek, or in the meadowlands with the wild birds singing and pruning, and with the fawns leaping…I apologize for the tear drops on this page. This parchment is crude and does not take to substances well.
It was in fact on my hike through the immense ice that I discovered a notebook was on my person. In my breast-satchel under my mail and above my heart, I found it in there, amongst some candles, feather, and ink bottled with glass and stopper. At once a sense of joy flowed in me, as if this notebook, of a palms length, could be a savior. I know not why I felt that, now as I write, I write because she has spoken words to me, words that lead to a salvation. I digress.
The ice stretched forever forward, and as a mountain becomes a hill in the distance, so too did that skeletal cliff of bone, which I now name The Living Wall, for I fell from it, and was thus saved. The peril was away from now, here in this land of white ground and red sky. Once I stopped and observed all around me. Nothing but white below and red above, a testament to the alien nature of this plane.
Suddenly a great roaring such as that from a tall flame began to fill my surroundings. A lengthy shadow spread over me, and instantly I thought of the draigons of the Realm. Oh how I’d rather be in the maw of one such creature than where I am now.
Woe is me! A great peal of thunder resounded in the horizon and flashes of cerulean lightning blinded my vision. The brilliant stars of the heavens swam as minnows beneath my eyelids, until all was clear. What I beheld thereafter my mind is scarce to recall, for the moment was terrifyingly surreal.
A demon like none other took me in from not thirty paces. It was in the form of a draigon, but certainly not one such beast, for it was far smaller than any draigon I have heard tell. From its back sprouted six ghastly wings, three in parallel with three, of a shade of cinder. Its neck was elongated and serrated like the teeth of an ocean leviathan and its teeth just so as well. It seemed to lumber towards me for a few steps, reminding me of a newborn infant.
It, which I later dubbed the Draixla, burst into black flame and abounded skyward in a single thrust of its drawn wings, circling skyward and vanishing from sight behind a glossy violet thread of cloud. I had not realized it, but my sword was in hand, and beneath my leather gauntlets, I am sure that my knuckles were of pallor.
The four curved horns of the Draixla burst through the clouds first as it spiraled down towards me. Black goblets of slag shot forth from its mouth, and I found myself yet again in danger from a black rain of fire.
A note on this. Black fire I have witnessed from several of the demon-kind. To be burned by it is likened to the feeling of extreme cold, as ones limbs turn to black and fall off.
The Draixla came down to make one pass on me, tarnishing the ivory of the ice around my feet. In my other hand rested this very notebook, which now bears the scorch marks from the insipid fire. I did what I thought best and landed face first on my stomach, as to avoid mortal injury. Intense heat licked my whole entire backside as I prayed to the Eleven Above. It is humorous how one can go from cursing to begging so quickly.
Although the ice is not ice, it melted from the fire. It makes ironic sense to me that such a thing would happen. With the sound of a shatter of glass, I went tumbling down to the white stone dungeon that lay in wait beneath me.

Chapter 4


She has healed my wounds as I cried out in agony, and I am thankful to her. I will soon explain her. Forgive me the bloodstained parchment on which this is written.
As I descended into the vast white pit, my blackened arm began to burn and tingle as if stricken by fire ants. A curse was my arm on the mortal plane, a blessing it is now.
Yes, the blackened limb of mine from the cursed blood of the Netherealm frothed and broiled with power, and my muscles on that limb became enlarged like great Toulind himself. I fell from a great height indeed, and, with arm outstretched and myself falling facing earthbound, I put what little hope I had left into that arm.
I slammed into the white stone with smashing force, but held fast. My accursed arm became entrenched in the stone as deep as my shoulder, but, to my amazement, bore no injury, and no scar, even still.
Shocked, amazed as I was, I remained fearful of the Draixla. Amazingly, I furled my arm into a flex, and uprooted more stone in the process, taken aback to see it coming forth unscathed. A quick rotation of the head around me showed that this new imprisonment was ancient and deadly. I was surrounded by the stone of demon construct, alone in the blazing white sanctuary. Wherefrom the light dwelt that made the stone glitter with brilliance is still mystery to me.
Runes were upon the stones of this place, in script indecipherable by my eyes, the eyes of man. I bolted under one such rune carving, and it immediately turned into a corner. It led up and twisted forward oddly, because there were no stairs. I hurried and hurried as if death followed me close, which it might have. I was led to a large balcony with a lone bridge opening above a great expanse. I was reasonably discouraged, be it the harrowing width of the bridge or the immense drop-off, but things of that nature have little effect on me now. I continued my flight across it, and caught glimpse of what lie below.
It appeared as a great serpent lie beneath, sleeping soundly. I could not gaze a head or tail, but rather just the blinding sheen of coils of skin, folded upon one another in what looked to me like slumber. To me, it was distinctly serpentine. I pressed on with new fear at the forefront of my thought.
I wound my way up the Runestone Labyrinth, as I now refer to it as, faster and faster, for my fear took over me. My legs moved as fast as they could up the stair-less spirals, the narrow corridors, and the strangely fashioned intersections.
I walked then, for my fear had subsided and I was panting heavily. I let my hand run along the smooth white wall, and for a moment lost myself in thought of the mortal realm. Things like the beauty of a woman, the comfort found in soft grass, the sound of running water…
I halted when I found myself at the edge of a sheer precipice. I looked about my surroundings. Upon the ceiling, along the walls, and far below, there were entrances to tunnels, each one with different combinations of runes above them. If they were intended for passage, the passage was not for mortal man.
A sudden terror gripped me and I began my flight once more, taking the precipice to the sharp left, for an inset ran along the wall, leading up to the highest tunnel. A surprising gust of wind rattled my nerves for a moment, and then passed, but my nerves stayed on the edge of a sword.
A disparaging cold shuddered over me, for in the next moments, I was surrounded by the living dead. Souls of the damned flooded the tunnel I was climbing, rushing ephemerally past me, above me, through me. They are shaded beryl, faceless and nameless entities of former selves, roaring down into the Runestone Labyrinth constantly, although the ways they enter are many.
It was like a river of dead, flowing on all sides of me and through me. And just like clear water compared to clear water, each soul was indistinguishable from one another. In death, we all become one.
The souls are hard to describe, but I shall try my best. They are opaque, and indeed, quite like water, blurry and glossy and green as the surface of a winded lake.
Suddenly I was beckoned away, cast about. The runes became lit with a pale yellow fire and the winds rushing from the Those Above know where blasted me through their tunnels. The stones began to sing a mournful lament, howling with high-pitched cacophony. I was flung, beaten badly, slammed into stone after stone, flying mid air through the tunnels and stretches. This subject is but one, out of an infinite category of memories that I retain that pains my body to reminisce about. The feeling of having every bone shattered and every inch of my body in bruises makes me wince with the remembrance of the agony. I will not write of it much.
Being tossed about like a rag doll, and crashing into wall after wall, I was disoriented surely, but even so and not knowing my whereabouts, the directions seemed random; but with my last waking thought I saw the bright crimson red of day before all was black, and I counted myself lost.
I awakened what I figure to be a long time later. My whole body ached. To move was to be tortured, as if the ever present scalding hot air and presiding foul stench of it was not enough to hinder me already. A long time passed, in which I drifted in and out of blackness.
I believe I have been robbed of dreams here, for I cannot recall even one.
I awakened. I rolled onto my back. The twinkling starts gleamed down upon me. I swore and gasped upon the harsh air that swearing so required.
I somehow gathered the strength to climb to my feet. I trudged on, not knowing anything about where I was at or anything. I remember my mind being blank, my eyes unblinking. The ice was no longer under my feet. The ground I walked became a fine homogeneous blend of grayish gravel and the blood sand. Things that could have been small plants tufted into balls of prickly bristles, of which I avoided. I call them Weedsnares.
As my conscious mind drifted more to the brink of insanity, I came upon a field littered with dead bodies––those of demons. Some demon-kind I deemed recognizable, some were of a caste I have not yet witnessed, yet others were too mauled and unidentifiable for even I, who had slain my hundreds.
As I crossed the littered field, I came to a lee in some crag orange stone. I exhaled the stale stench of dead breath that had contaminated my soul, and looking back behind my shoulder, felt inexplicable remorse for the slaughtered demons.
I stumbled on some fang-like stalagmites jutting out of the cave, coughing as I did so; the air that funneled from the mouth of the entrance was harsh. Some rocks I kicked skittered and made a splashing noise. Water!
I looked up. That’s when I saw her. It was the most vivid thing I have ever experienced.
She slumped against the cave wall. Her clothing was in tatters, her rags ripped and torn, strewn across her body showing many patches of beautiful, fair skin. She was not covered much either, her whole upper body was mostly exposed, except for her breasts and up to the neck. And even that was in tatters as well, ripped and showing her skin, the color of pure ivory.
Her bare legs stretched out before her, a thing of cold death between her knees. The hilt was inclined so that the blade contrasted with her, running at a ninety degree angle against her with the blade’s point above her shoulder, resting on the cave wall as well.
She looked up at me. A lock of her blood flecked hair fell in front of her face, between her eyes. I felt a darkness suddenly grip me; like that feeling one receives when in a sinking boat.
Her eyes captured me and threw me into an empty well where I plummeted endlessly. In her eyes was a luster from the cave entrance mingled with the silhouette cast by me standing in front of her, creating duotone shininess across her irises. They were indigo, splayed with black.
The seductive vibe I got from her was incredibly intense, she perpetually radiated with a dark voluptuousness, coupled with natural physical beauty. I froze as a buck upon sighting the arrow intended to land between the eyes.
“Give me one good reason not to kill you so fast that you don’t even have the time to think a single thought before I finish this sentence.”
I began to think a thought.
An icy cold pressed against my throat. I blinked. Her face was inches from mine. “I…did you…” The blade scratched against my throat which moved whilst I spoke. I was completely and utterly amazed, that this thing of beauty lie in wait amongst such calamity, that another human was in this Netherealm, and that I was no longer alone. I fainted, and when I awoke, I was in the cave with her, as I am now…but I fear we may be leaving soon, and my writings will have to wait. Many questions I had for her, and many answers had she. These I will go into upon my next entry.
Chapter 5

Where was I? I am now safe, and set aside for chronicling. It has been quite some time since my last entry, as I tell "time" not by the astrological sequencing of the heavens, but of when my stomach contorts and I need sustenance. I simply cannot do so by sleep, because there is no way in which to tell how long I have been asleep. One takes for granted things one is accustomed to. Day, night, grass, air, water. How I long for each.
When I awakened, I once more could scarce believe my eyes. There before me, sharpening her bright blue sword upon a whetstone made of the black Demonrock(similar to their weapons and steel), was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A liquid that I briefly considered could be water adorned the whetstone, but my musings vanished as once more my eyes were drawn to her face, and down her incredible physique, like Ariadni herself was she! Her first words were soft.
"Who are you, I have examined you, and you are not of M'rachtachtken. You are mortal."
Though she spoke softly, I caught the ancient word. Know of it, I did not, but I had heard prophets and magyckers speak with similar syllables from the mortal realm.
"I see you are unfamiliar. I refer to those who wish to slay us."
"Demon-kind."
"And so the time changes. Just so. What are you called?"
"I am Chiel, my father is unknown, for I was raised orphan-wise. Only a mother raised me, and I name not her maiden name, since she was unmarried."
"I see. Much time has passed."
An empty silence crawled between us then, and to this moment I remember it. Everything about her is so easy to remember, when all is not being clouded by her attractiveness. I find myself drawn to her more and more; the curse of all women. But lo! she is no mortal woman.
I managed to find words, which I once again recall with startling accuracy; I suspect she may have some supernatural ability which is augmenting my memory, for what she spoke and exactly what she said seems to be imprinted upon my thoughts.
"Who are you?"
"I am Terennjsiah-Ellessene-Yhtavierv-Hlixhyphorates-Syehilomraaken, firstborn of Sanshiyhatyarres-Alellendenarres-Finditeismicalleandeas-Nmamorandastolophloian. I was cast down for my unparalleled beauty to that of Ariadniattes-Sellophloytusmous-Rhetfeliosmosede-Kanerkesserenes, sealed here within Xophaltez by her herself."
Of her dialogue, she spoke my language and I had previously pondered how this was so; I had assumed that she was from my time and from my people. The truth is this: She is of immortal caste, of born immortal, not made, and therefore all of her ways cannot be understood by us mortals. I presume to think it, her understanding of my language, that is, has to do with her eyes, and the way she seems to look at my soul, not at me.
Although I was mortally distracted by the movement of her lips, I managed to try and comprehend what was being said. I tried.
"You are…immortal? The daughter of…Sanshi, Goddess of the Huntsman's Fortune, who bears six wings of light?"
"You are man. Much time has passed, and through the ages, my mother's true name has been remembered. I am pleased with this."
"You said…you were cast down as the result of your beauty? Jealousy from…Ariadni, Bringer of Storms? Cast down…? In Xophaltez! That is this places' true name! Where am I, Mighty One, Daughter of The Eleven Above?"
As I said this, I fell to my face on the floor before her, for I have seen this done by the Priests of Twin River countless times, although I am not a religious person. I feared then that this would be known to her, just as she knew my language. I was terribly fearful, facing the firstborn of one of the Eleven Above.
"Rise, mortal. I am not to be bowed to, as the M'rachkenta commend."
I rose back up to my feet, watching as she continued to sharpen her blade upon the whetstone. I suddenly wondered if that blade was of Those Above's construct…yet it still needed to be sharpened….however, it was not being sharpened by mortal means, but by the Demonstone of black. These were my thoughts; I will append more of them later.
"M'rachkenta…" I struggled to say it, as if saying it brought upon darkness, "Could you mean Demon Lord? Earlier you referred to the Demon-kind as M'rachtachtken."
"Just so. You listen well." Is what she said, and then followed by:
"In the time before the M'rachtachtken War, all existence was immortal, crafted by The Mother herself. Everything was in tandem, serene and perfect, and all existence existed on one plane. Twenty children bore she, from The Father himself.
Now it came to pass that The Father was a proud and contemptuous Father, selecting and favoring certain children that caught his eye, my mother not included. Nine of them he selected in total. Among them he bestowed gifts of his power, a power not available to the other children.
With this power, certain children became as The Father himself, for the power was of him. They began to favor things and to hold in contempt The Mother herself, for they were now more of The Father than of The Mother. They began to strike against the other children, to assault and bear hatred.
The other children fought back initially with their own powers, but found that the other children, the 'Children of The Father', possessed still the attributes of The Mother herself, as well as the gifts from The Father. They were more powerful. With their power, they created others amongst themselves, just as through The Mother, The Father created my mother, as you called 'Sanshi'. They possess the power of procreation. From their hands were wrought the M'rachtachtken, whom they named, a naming only possible through the power of The Father. In the language of gods, those you refer to as 'Eleven Above', 'M'rachtachtken' is but a word stemming from a root word, which is what we, the immortals from birth, call 'M'rachkenta', which is what now is to, as you said, 'Demon Lord', as 'M'rachtachtken' is 'Demon-kind'.
Among the M'rachkenta grew a masterful agent, one who displayed more gifts from The Father then the other eight M'rachkenta. The Father was secretive, allotting more gifts to his primary favorite. With his power, he vastly multiplied the M'rachtachtken, so much so, that The Mother herself expressed disapproval to The Father. Of the Mother's Children, Ariadniattes-Sellophloytusmous-Rhetfeliosmosede-Kanerkesserenes, named by you as 'Ariadni', was procreated to be most like The Mother, because The Mother so requested to have one set aside for this reason. And so, The Mother asked of her to consult with Gainahtharrinisidious, the M'rachkenta whom was favored most. Gainahtharrinisidious, who knew of her approach because he was most like The Father due to his reception of gifts, beckoned the multitude of M'rachtachtken to leave her be, and agreed to be consulted.
The result of this meeting was cataclysmic, for when she came to meet him, Gainahtharrinisidious forcefully procreated with her against her will, creating the first of the Children of Children. These children were many, a great number which immediately began to combat the M'rachtachtken, children called the Selemandairi, of which you are a long descendant of. The Children of The Mother began to fight with the Selemandairi, against the M'rachtachtken, because Gainahtharrrinisidious' procreation had failed him, for the Selemandairi were more of The Mother than the Father.
The Mother herself was furious when she saw what had occurred. It took her much will, but she began to craft a solution, a prison in which every bad thing The Father had instilled would be sealed, and the M'rachtachtken War would cease. In your mortal years, the war lasted longer than what would be a millennia, for the crafting of her will was the extension of the gifts she could give; her attribute. They were long in making.
She sealed away The Father, sealing along with him his influence. The gifts of his he had once bestowed upon the M'rachkenta grew corrupt; for this was the curse of The Father.
The nine became twisted and deformed, the beauty they once inherited from The Mother completely vanished, and Gainahtharrinisidious, who was most like The Father, he became the most twisted. The Mother quickly forged for him a prison much like that of The Father's, for with his corrupted power the M'rachtachtken grew insane and much more powerful.
Gainahtharrinisidious' last gesture was to utilize his procreation to make all of the M'rachtachtken immortal till slain, and set upon them a curse defiled by his likeness to The Father, a curse of favoritism. They would never wander far from him for long. Because of this curse, The Mother sealed away them with he; for all hope for them had been lost.
The death of the Selemandairi and the M'rachtachtken was many. The Mother saw that all was not in order, and that the Selemandairi, an extension of the will of the The Father through Gainahtharrinisidious, were not to be cohabited. For them, she sealed them away in a place in likeness to that which they came, the place where you are from, Chiel, because they had done no wrong. She separated us, who reside in Alphairria, from you, who reside in Thyinairinn, which in your language, probably means, 'The Middle', because you were partially procreated from Gainahtharrinisidious, who received that power of procreation from The Father himself.
A problem still existed in Alphairria, for the residue of the tragedy remained, as did the eight who were the Children of The Father. The Mother sealed a part of Alphairria to Xophaltez, where we are, the prison of Gainahtharrinisidious, along with The Children of the Father.
Now through the course of great toil and war during the M'rachtachtken War, Alphadeusmata-Toulindas had consummated with my mother, Sanshiyhatyarres-Alellendenarres-Finditeismicalleandeas-Nmamorandastolophloian, in the way that the Mother designed. I was born.
Ariadniattes-Sellophloytusmous-Rhetfeliosmosede-Kanerkesserenes, whom bore the stench of Gainahtharrinisidious, mother of the Selemandairi, turned away from The Mother, and out of her likeness to The Mother, sealed away me within the realm of Xophaltez."
At long last, she ceased to speak, and I watched as the daughter of the gods began to shed tears. I apologize for my own tears on this paper, for the scene was heart wrenching and still brings heat to my eyes. I must write more later, for I am overcome with emotion.

Chapter 6

I have now overcome myself, realizing that my tears came not from emotion alone, but from the mental augmentation I have received from Helix. Helix. I will refer to the daughter of Sanshi as Helix, for just as the language of mortals dwindles Those Above names' down to their parts, so will I, for I fear my ink supply is also dwindling. I will resume:
For a moment, watching this thing of pure beauty crumple and shed tears before me was excruciating torture; watching those unnaturally blue eyes sparkle. Her eyes were bluer than the tropical ocean, loftier than the deepest sky, and icier than the Glaciers of the Northern Keep. The blackness within them was more lost than the abyss, farther than the spaces between the stars, and more seductive than any mortal man could possibly imagine. I could stare into her eyes for ever, if not for being so moved by them.
One tear drop from her landed on the Demonrock whetstone, which then sizzled and burned. At this, she looked up at me, and it appeared as though all tears were gone, had never happened. Did I imagine that? She gathered her sword and placed it behind her. She has no sheath. Helix said:
"Ariadni, as you called her, mother of the Selemandairi, was full of envy and wrath because I was the first born of pure happening, the way The Mother intended for it to be. Ariadni bears the stench of Gainahtharrinisidious, and because of his forceful procreation, she bore the Selemandairi, the imperfect children of the unclean will of The Father. She was jealous that she, being most like The Mother, did not, nor could ever, bear perfect Children of Children. And so, with her power of The Mothers, the power of great force and binding with seals, she forged a seal comparable to that of Gainahtharrinisidious. Her seal she placed on me was great, but not as great as The Father's, but far more powerful than the binds holding Xophaltez apart from Thyinairinn, even Alphairria. This seal happened after what you may consider a great expanse of time, mortal.
The Selemandairi are imperfect, but not like you, mortal Chiel. They were quite like us, save for their will, their lifespan, and their blood. You are an ancient offshoot of them, so ancient, that your lifespan is merely a tenth of what the Selemandairi maintained. Thyinairinn was made for your ancient ancestors as a place like Alphairria, where water runs clearly and wild grasses produce fruit.
But the will of The Father was in them, in the Selemandairi, because of Gainahtharrinisidious, and your world grew corrupt, your plants produced thistles, and your animals, fangs. The Mother's design did not harbor these original traits, for she designed Thyinairinn in Alphairria's respect. Sorrow plagued The Mother, and those above mourned at the bloodshed and suffering of our sister Realm, and so the Mother placed upon her Children that still resided in Alphairria the task of maintaining it, of keeping in control the insipid will of The Father that lingered like decay.
Upon my mother, Sanshiyhatyarres-Alellendenarres-Finditeismicalleandeas-Nmamorandastolophloian, she gave watch over The Mother's A'mnilia, whom now were hunted for their sustenance and struck out at the Selemandairi. The Mother's A'mnilia bore resemblance to some of Her children themselves, for all that comes from The Mother was to remind her offspring of Her.
Upon my father, Alphadeusmata-Toulindas, she placed the strength of mortals, for the will of The Father stained muscles and poisoned bodies, much like your arm, Chiel. Upon Alphadeus, she assigned the task of never letting the infighting caused by the Will of The Father to bring about the extinction of the Selemandari; my father governs war.
Upon my sealer, Ariadniattes-Sellophloytusmous-Rhetfeliosmosede-Kanerkesserenes, was placed the governing of the sky, for when the heat began to blaze and the cold began to kill, these things were of The Father's will. She placed upon my sealer a means to outlet her wrath; for the storms were at her command.
Upon Darlanuss-Krotegre, she placed the governing of the land, for the soil of Thyinairinn quaked with fear of The Father's will, and the blood of the Selemandairi smote the ground.
Upon Itesicies-Amarinailie-Seceiurleananno-Procondius, she placed the protection of the procreation of the Selemandairi, the greatest matter of the burdens of The Eleven, as you called them. For the Father's power of procreation would attempt to contaminate the Selemandairi's procreation though the stench of The Father, and the way the Selemandairi procreate is most like The Mothers.
Upon Mandarrolarianius, she burdened the plants of Thyinairinn with not becoming to ungainly because of the stench, and keeping the A'mnilia from destroying each other, for the evil will crept even unto them.
Upon Alacandis-Sairinithis, who sympathized at first with the nine of The Father, she stripped of him his pure form, and made of him the likeness of a dragon, the first A'mnilia of Her construct. I see your eyes widen, Chiel, but it was not of the dragons of Thyinairinn, but of Alphairria, a kind of dragon you have never seen. She placed upon him the control over the sum of the calamities caused by extension of the evil will, and fire, which is most like The Father. Alacandis-Sairinithis bears a terrible wait, much like Itesicies-Amarinailie-Seceiurleananno-Procondius.
Upon Arayindanastelliana-Yhatadrianeas-Kallandousious, she placed the control of the evil stench residing within the Selemandairi.
Upon Alandindaotoureth, she placed the governing of the Selemandairi mind, for the ill remnants of The Father's favoritism seeps into such places. And with him, she placed the task of keeping the mortals aware of our presence.
Upon Calaridinaas-Moulucentoan, she appointed the burden of maintaining the will of The Mother in Thyinairinn, for just as the evil will strengthens and weakens, so does the pure will.
Upon Nadarin was placed a special task, a task governing the balance between all of the realms The Mother had created. Mine and Gainahtharrinisidious seals are different from the sealing of a plane; of ours he has no say.
When the planes were created and the seals realized, the great voids and chasms between the planes filled with the evil will, for The Father's will seeks out dark places.
Upon Nadarin was set the burden of maintaining these places, of balancing the separate realms. At the start, it was found that the evil stench could not be completely eradicated, for that was Nadarins original task. The Father is too powerful, and so only a minimum balance of pure and evil is maintained.
Thyinairinn, your home realm, was of special import, for because inside of it resided most of the pure and evil will at the same time, coexisting only because of the efforts of the so called "Eleven Above". Your brow furrows, Chiel. Ah, I see. It is a question of The Mother: I will tell you this in answer. The Mother needs her Children to maintain all of these things because The Mother herself maintains The Father and the seals themselves, and us ourselves. It is why I am here, for if The Mother breaks her concentration to rescue me, we will all surely die.
I continue: And so Nadarin crafted a special will, a will of his own to maintain the balance surrounding the sealing chasms of Thyinairinn. The Mother saw that this was necessary and so it is called G'yckma. The G'yckma's primary purpose was to aid Nadarin in maintaining the balance, but it had unintended results. It seeped into Thyinairinn itself, just as the Selemandairi's lingering stench of The Father corrupted the plants and A'mnilia. The G'yckma will manifested itself with the Selemandairi themselves, giving them powers likened to Nadarin's himself, powers of The Eleven Above and therefore of The Mother. It began to manifest in everything in your realm, for your realm consists of a near perfect balance that begins to tilt. Trees, A'mnilia, grasses, crops, water, blood, metal, wind. Everything. It took hold stronger in some creations then others, forming entirely new A'mnilia and Selemandairi out of former ones. Nadarin himself showed this to The Mother, and they were called Selementaili, beings that had strong influence with the G'yckma will.
We watched in sorrow as great mortal time passed, and only we could do so much, as to not upset the balance. For if we intervened too much, or if Nadarin himself tried to eradicate completely the evil will from the chasms, the evil will would compensate, leaking into Thyinairinn and even filling more of other chasms!
The Eleven Above watched and did what they could over a great period of mortal time, maintaining the balance as much as they could by upholding their tasks as appointed by The Mother. But over time it all built up, up to a point where certain Selementaili lorded the G'yckma will over the vast majority of Selemandairi. Not long after, several powerful Selemantaili all began to want more power, more control. They felt that they could rule better than the kings and queens of their lands, and so, they rose up and slaughtered them. They then turned on each other, for favoritism is of The Father and is a corrupting force. The war that ensued was cataclysmic. The land itself was changed and scarred. Whole mountains were leveled, while new ones were raised up. And this is how it was for a millennia in mortal years.
We feared the worse, and alas, due to my banishment, I could not join in the effort to stop it. I have sensed it. It was not long ago now, that the mortals became so powerful as to forge their own sealing, a sealing in which was sealed the G'yckma of Nadarin himself. I mourn and weep for Thyninairinn, for I know what is happening. The balance is tilting far to one side, and will do so, I fear, until its complete oblivion. If not for the curse of Gainahtharrinisidious, I fear that the M'rachtachtken would already fully inhabit your realm. It is how you are here, no? A great and ancient force brought you here, Chiel.
When a mortal dies, their souls become of the will, a will in which most resembles the thing of its affinity. Pure willed souls, souls that tilted past the balance towards The Mother, become apart of the Mother, and enjoy an everlasting eternity with her. Evil souls, of the stench of The Father, seek out dark places. Most seek to join The Father, but are rejected, for the sealing of The Mother's was great. They return here, where they are twisted and bent by the followers of Gainahtharrinisidious, the eight of The Father. Of them they are well known, for their will is great, and becoming the greater. The mortals knew them even in the time before my banishment, and of their full names I will not speak, for within names is the power of The Father: Maldis,Truncarr, Samask, Graindianeth,Beraneathan, Llarth, Stlomemor, and Zxypher. Upon them, the absence of The Father left them great deformations, of which they used for power to exert upon Thyninairinn. I fear that in time, a M'rachkenta itself may enter your realm.
I earnestly pray that Nadarin, balancer of the balance, will overcome this great obstacle with the will of The Mother. For if not, the will of his G'yckma will surely wither and dwindle and the seals themselves will become as glass, and the destruction of your realm as well as mine will come about. For because of this, the sealing of the G'yckma in your realm, there will come a time when The Father himself may muster the strength needed from his overpowering balance to break free."
And when she finished, I stood shocked and awed that I now knew more than any other mortal man could dream of, more than the brilliant scholars, more than the user of magycks, which is actually G'yckma. I alone have knowledge that is of utmost importance and must be spread. At that moment, I decided I had to recount my every step, my every struggle. I must record everything that has happened to me, for in my hands is a book that could save all of creation. I, Chiel, am The Realms only hope for survival.
Chapter 7


I felt very foolish as I stood before the firstborn among The Eleven. So much information had been impressed upon me that I was staggering in my motions as I attempted to sit down before her. I remember it all very clearly; and I owe thanks to Helix for that. She has augmented my memory so that I can transcribe all of this, for I do not believe that I could record all of that on my own. For we have a purpose, and therefore she aids me, and that purpose is this:

To escape from Xophaltez.

At that time, however, I had many questions. I began with the one most present in my mind:
"Were you using water to sharpen your blade among the Demonrock whetstone?"
"I am sorry, Chiel, but water is not found in this realm. I used a substance similar to that of water in coloration and viscosity, obtained from a certain M'rachtachtken." (In hindsight, I recall a certain water like substance flowing from the slain techanns which attacked me in swarm before my fall from The Living Wall..)
"Oh," I remember wincing, "Helix, do you drink water and eat meat to survive?"
"Yes. In Alphairria, the plants provide all that the meats of Thyninairinn A'mnilia provide. Before Darlanuss-Krotegre and Mandarrolarianius were burdened with the land and plants, it was already too late; they were corrupted and no longer in the image of Alphairria. The combined strength of the blood of the slain Selemandairi that smote the land, which contained the stench of The Father, and the evil will itself that seeped in from the chasms had already infected the land. I did not hunger for meat until I fell from Alphairria."
"You claim that…Mandar and Darlan were too late to save some of the plants and animals that had already been corrupted by the evil will…I see...that is why we humans…we Selemadairi...need meat to obtain certain benefits, and cannot just sustain ourselves upon fruits. How do you live? You, the first angel among angels, are now forced to live like a mortal, eating and drinking what have you, in Xophaltez."
"Yes Chiel, the requirements of living, as designed at first by The Father to be a form of pleasure, are perfect in Alphairria, corrupted in Thyninairinn, and detestable here. It is from despicable material we live off of."
My mind was racing because all that I knew of life, death, and magyck had been completely transformed. I find myself understanding it better now, because I recently just wrote it all down. At the time of hearing all of this, I could barely stay conscious, for I had not eaten or slept or had any water for quite a long period.
It was after the first of my questioning that the first attack came. I now interpret the attacks as the demons trying to rid their realm of Helix and I, who don't belong. We upset the balance in Xophaltez that so heavily leans for The Father. Could be the demons bear somewhat of a grudge as well, for the will of the evil one imprisoned here is also very strong. Helix thinks that Gainahtharrinisidious, or Gairi, as she once called him, is manipulating the other demon lords, for he is most like The Father and his stench lingers just so.
A strange thing happened then, as Helix quirked her head up, and began turning around.
The attack came. The Demons came in waves, each one entering through the mouth of the cave. Helix was a figure of pure grace. It was almost like she sensed them coming, and I reminisced about the first words she ever said to me. How unEleven like, how unlike her. The deadly side of her shown through again, here as she cut down demon after demon.
The xla came, more than I had ever seen. It was an army, with score among score upon rank upon roiling death. I shook with fear.
The humanoid demons now had more significance to me. Could the xla be the remnants of among the first M'rachtachken? Do they have leaders, generals, and foot soldiers? What if a demon lord came upon us?
Yes, Chiel gathered her sword, as I gathered mine, and we rushed onward. Running more forward, I stopped when I caught a glimpse of Helix, who was somehow far ahead of I. And there I beheld for the first time, a sight like none other.
Helix, as I call her, or Terennjsiah-Ellessene-Yhtavierv-Hlixhyphorates-Syehilomraaken, daughter of the goddess Sanshi, resembles her mother.
From her back came two great wings of light, blindingly golden, as to look directly into the morning sun. They spread out from her a great length, but it was hard to measure, as I had to stop running and shield my eyes. From just beneath my blood crusted gauntlets I could make out the noises my ears were registering:
Helix was in the midst of them, feasting her icy blue sword upon the Xla of Xophaltez. The blueness of her gently curving sword then showed more luminescent than ever before in the short time I had known her, like the golden rays of her wings somehow manifested themselves into her mysterious blade.
Her blade. It sung a tune of death as it flew into body after body. Helix would fly up, scattering the gore of a now torn in two xla, and dart back down from the air, coming in for another deadly sweep. I stood mesmerized. Watching her was nothing like watching even the finest warrior in the entire realm. Truly, her father is the god of war.
I watched as she drew her wings close to her, seemingly done with the half air half ground combat. She was immediately surrounded by xla on all sides. The one that reached her first lifted a mace above his head, only to have its arm sheered clean off at the elbow joint by a jumping strike from Helix. In her jump, she came back around at immortal speed, taking the heads off of two other xla, slicing one diagonally from chest to hip, and coming fully around to finish off the mace wielder, slicing him in a similar diagonal fashion, from thigh to knee. Her angelic wings then snapped out, blazing golden like the sun and the stars of the heavens, knocking several demons onto their backs, and she at once lifted into the sky, before the blood of the demons even started to spray.
She looked my way.
"Chiel!" She shouted, and my wits came about me then as I looked aside from her majestic beauty and saw the many horned, fully armored xla running towards me. I placed my sword in my cursed arm and let fly, throwing it as hard as I could. The sword looked as if it had been catapulted, meandering wildly as it did. It slammed into one xla, taking him down and knocking many others off their feet.
I flexed my cursed arm instinctively, remembering how it saved my life in the Runestone Labyrinth. Its muscles, buried beneath my blackened and splotched skin, seemed to be even bigger still, far larger than my right arm, my original sword arm. Without even thinking, I grabbed a fair sized stalagmite from the ground before me, ripping it from the cave floor, and began to wielding it like a club. I smashed it over the helm of the first xla to reach me, and it went down and stayed down. I clubbed several more, my fear beginning to grow as they kept coming, surrounding me as they had Helix.
I was exhausted, and not very agile. The xla were mainly equipped with mace and flail, and I mostly batted them aside unscathed, but many hits were nicking and bruising me, causing me to bleed. My arm seemed to throb with an anxiousness to smash my enemies. Upon one blow, my club shattered into few pieces and I grew very fearful. I remember it in great detail.
Three xla were before me, with their fallen demonkind on the ground around me. Beneath the horned head and helm of theirs, I could see the menace in their yellow and black beady eyes, looking from their fallen to me. Behind them more were coming.
It appeared as if some form of unspoken communication went on between them, possibly calculating which of them should strike first. One came at me, with mace in hand. As I moved to withstand it, Helix came roaring down the tunnel, filling it with light. With her sword she hooked two of the three xla, and behind them I could see the other charging xla to be slain. The two she hooked she cut right through, sending their upper torsos sailing. I gripped the arm of the other xla who meant to bludgeon me, and with the accursed strength of my arm, I swung him around and threw him into the cave wall, where he became implanted in stone.
I looked past and out of the mouth of the cave, to find the entrance even more littered with bodies, even more filled with death.
I now knew why there were so many dead carcasses of demonkind in the first place.,,,I jumped at the sound of Helix's voice near my ear.
"Mortal Chiel, we must leave this place."


Chapter 8


The sunless sky beats down upon me constantly when I exit the slightly cooler cave, making me wish I was jumping into the riverside on a warm day. I am constantly drenched with sweat, my clothes now purely shaded gray and dark crimson from the machinations of battle. It is a wonder this notebook survives so much.
I write to you now about present times. Since that first dreadful battle, the angel Helix and I have hiked many miles of Xophaltez. Why she can't use her wings at all times she told me:
"The will of death is very strong here, Chiel. You and I corrupt that will, and you and I influence it. I fear my wings will only bring attention to my and now your whereabouts. The M'rachtachtken work tirelessly to maintain the evil will here, and in doing so, their priority is the slaying of us."
Currently we are in the fourth or so cave, because after the demons find us out we move again. It is draining, to say the least. We must get out of here, we must escape.
Throughout this entire time of my journaling to you, my imaginary audience, I have chronicled of past events and about how I came to be here. Now I bring you some revelations.
My free times of writing have mainly consisted of the time in which Helix would leave me to scrounge for food, for we make fire and cook to stay alive. Helix has a purpose, besides waiting for rescue. She means to escape, but how so I am not sure.
It has become evident to me that yes, we do escape the demonkind and move on to our new destination. Through this process, however, I believe we are making some kind of journey towards something. Previously in my journal I wrote something down upon distant towers. I now presume us to be heading towards them.
Upon our second cave, I could squint and make them out through the haze of the clouds. When the demons came upon us, I was again directed by Helix to move, because since the demons had found us, they would be upon us soon once more. I now consider this to be at least partially false, because I feel that Helix and I can be constantly detected here, through our interference with the will. But then the question comes. Why has not a demon lord attacked us?
These things I do not question of Helix, because she does not answer. She may fear that I could be captured by the demons or something like that, which could account for some of the strange behavior some of the demons have shown me in battle. I wrote about this briefly in my previous account, when the xla seemed to want to do something with me. I hope I am not of significant importance to the demons.
This leads me to another point. The demonkind have free roam of this place, in their territories to their demon lord. This I did ask her about. Each demon lord rules over a quadrant of this plane, much like the kings and queens of The Realm, my home, Thyinairinn. Through the souls of the damned, which enter into this plane upon death of a mortal, the demon lords harness the will of The Father, and using their inherited power of procreation, create more demonkind.
These demonkind then roam their respective quadrants, or so I assume. Helix's explanation did not go that far. I can then reason that the xla and sachrons and other foul things that attack us, do so without the knowledge of their lords. This could explain why a demon lord has not yet met us. Helix is powerful, but I do not think she has the power to conceal us completely.
Now back to where I was: I am in the fourth cave, waiting for Helix to return with food. I must be concise, for my ink supply runs low. Currently, the view of the towers is very close, and I can make them out through the violet cloud wisps. The tower appears strangely to me. It is white like the Runestone Labyrinth, and contains several runes cascading down the whole entire structure.
In the litany told to me about the creation of everything, Helix said:
"The Mother sealed a part of Alphairria to Xophaltez, where we are, the prison of Gainahtharrinisidious, along with The Children of the Father."
I have come to that point where, looking back, one realizes things that he did not at once notice beforehand. The white stone constructions seem to me the most likely candidates for Alphairria sealed within Xophaltez, along with what I call the Living Wall. The skeletons in the Living Wall appeared vaguely human, while others were distinctly demon. I now know this as part of the soiled holy ground which the M'rachtachtken war probably took place on. Along with it was a vast temple, probably some building of Alphairrian descent, which could explain not only the Runestone Labyrinths existence, but also the towers. The fact that the demons inhabit these foreign things does not daunt me; they have been here for time immeasurable. Centuries upon centuries. If at one point malice was harbored, it has since been acquiesced, and in fact now, the demons use the once holy structures for their benefits. I would not be surprised to learn that a demon lord makes one his "fortress".
Enough with my musings. Now, when I recounted that which was spoken to me, I wrote:
"Gainahtharrinisidious' last gesture was to utilize his procreation to make all of the M'rachtachtken immortal till slain, and set upon them a curse defiled by his likeness to The Father, a curse of favoritism. They would never wander far from him for long. Because of this curse, The Mother sealed away them with he; for all hope for them had been lost. "
And:
"The Mother quickly forged for him a prison much like that of The Father's, for with his corrupted power the M'rachtachtken grew insane and much more powerful. "
Over the past few cave movements, and even from what is evincible from my writing itself, it is clear to me that my right arm is getting stronger and stronger, and that the blotch is indeed spreading. It now covers my whole entire left arm, and it starting to branch out with purple veins above my armpit.
I now come to some conclusions. We are headed closer and closer to Gainahtharrinisidious, or Gairi, and that is why my arm is getting stronger and more malformed. Yesterday when I awoke, it appeared as if my bone was jutting out of my elbow. I fear what these deformations could lead to, because it may explain why the xla and other creatures have horned appendages.
Another conclusion. I feel that Gairi was originally sealed in Alphairria, then once Xophaltez was forged, moved, because the M'rachtachtken ran amuck still because of the curse. If Helix hid this from me intentionally, I can think of only one reason why.
Her passage of escape from Xophaltez may be of some grave consequence to me, possibly death or eternal damnation, and I say eternal because "Gainahtharrinisidious' last gesture was to utilize his procreation to make all of the M'rachtachtken IMMORTAL TILL SLAIN…,"
With all of these conclusions comes the conclusion that my story will end shortly. The seal of Gairi and the seal of Helix are similar in some way, and I believe that I have something major to do with it. I am the key. What it is, and what I unlock, only time will tell, if only one were able to tell time here…


Chapter 9



I fear this to be my last entry. We have at last come now to a cave overlooking the tower itself, which is, accurate to my own estimations, a temple…or something that closely resembles a temple.
Helix said she was going out to get food, but I watched her spread her wings and fly into the temple. The temple itself I will now name as the place of Gairi's sealing, because a great and evil presence radiates from it. I am convinced: My arm is bigger then ever, with my biceps being probably double their original human size. A horn now juts out from my skin at my elbow joint, so that it climbs up to my shoulder when my arm is lax at my side. I am partially demon more so than ever. Helix returns, I will resume writing shortly.
[the paper here is torn, and continues on the next page, but something appears to have been written]
My worst fears have been confirmed. Helix believes me to be some sort of key, one that she fears will unlock Gairi, and herself, and I. This offers hope but devastating finality. Gairi must remained sealed, because he is far too powerful, daresay the strongest of the Children. I have come to believe that Helix some how communicated with Gairi, and from this she knows these things. I am now in more fear than ever, fear to the likes of that from which I first entered Xophaltez, and was attacked by a Draixla.
The demon lords will come. I have come to this realization because if Helix can talk with him, so can he talk to his brethren. I am now in great peril. She wishes to speak with me now, I must again postpone my writing.

I cannot believe what has just––

[This page is heavily crinkled, and the writing is illegible. More is on the next page]

––from me. This is the last of my ink. I am now one armed, for Helix and the one whom I believe to be Samask, have departed and left me to die; I am of no further use to them. I am in great pain, and losing a lot of blood. This could be the end. I––[the page is very blood spattered and difficult to read here] ––it. My blood may have something to do with the unsealing, and I can understand why. When my own arm was cut from me by Helix herself, the blood within was a purple hue. I have not seen Alphairrian blood, but I have seen demonkind, which is black. Human, or at least some Selemandairi, is red. Could I have wounded the demon lord Samask, I would have, and I imagine that his blood would be similar to Helix's. Many meals ago, Helix once told me not consume the blood. I now wonder if consuming the purple blood will have some effect on Helix, and Gairi. And I have reason to believe that the seals placed on them were mere power limiters, for Helix herself said it. The seals of Gairi and the seals of her own are similar. This means that Gairi, lord of demon lords, is able bodied and not restrained at all, just like Helix he can fight and live and move.
I am deathly, I feel a coldness spreading over my body.
But why would Helix share this with Gairi? My only reasoning is this: She has been here for quite some time now, and Gairi and the evil will have fully taken over her. She is aligned with them. It may soon come to pass, that because of my blood, Gairi's power, along with Helix's, will be reawakened. With that, Gairi will bring all of his lords and their M'rachtachken to Thyinairinn, and because of me the destruction of the world will occur. [The ink is smeared]
The pain is unbearable. I can hardly write. I can only hope that these purple veins that branch out from my wound and snake towards my heart have made it, and that I will, somehow, be inexplicably dragged along to the mortal realm along with the other demons, just as I was dragged here.
A great light now emerges from the temple. It shoots into the sky, and what appears to be a massive tidal wave of light is enveloping everything above me. It falls! It begins to fall, but slowly. Could it be that this it? This is the unmaking of The Realm?
As it falls I watch it, and nothing is visible behind it. Wait, it begins to crumble! It is faltering!
Shattering like glass. Beyond it I see the false stars and the purple clouds…my body feels strange, like when the curse of Gairi once claimed me! Could I be returning?

[many pages are blank and torn and bloodstained]
[on a page exactly 12 pages after the above entry, is written, in a purple ink…]

I have escaped

[There is nothing else in the book of the damned, except for some personal scribbling of Chiel's 13 pages after the escaped entry, and a note on the back cover. The whole thing is at total of 46 pages]

Back cover:

And ye; before the book itself existed, in the time before the
Great Slumber, the time of Magyck, when all was good, it was believed upon death that souls became Magyck, and the Magyck would determine the course of the soul; whether to become the wind or the water itself, to become the currents from which we draw upon for our Magyck, or to become as elementals themselves. It was believed the Magyck equalized us, turning our souls for its use, as we once used the Magycks soul.
Now from this book we know the truth of things, and why things are the way they are. With Chiel's return came a horde of demons, so vast and gigantic that the whole kingdoms army had to put it down. I am the discoverer of this book, and in it I append these things. I will allow these words to be copied and shared a thousand times a thousand times over, because I want you to realize something.
We are not safe.
We are not safe.
No demon lords or angels came with Chiel, he was the only non-demon present. He was found dead from blood loss, with this very book found tightly in his hand; and I do pray his soul found its way to Alphairria.
It could be assumed that the blood of Chiel was not powerful enough to do it's purported task; the forging of The Mother's was incredibly strong…but it did weaken the seals of The Realm and Xophaltez considerably. We are not safe. It is now most likely that a demon lord, or lords, will appear here within the span of a century or less. It will come to pass that more and more demons will enter our realm, and further upset the balance. Gairi's communication can probably now reach us.
We are not safe; we are damned.












The book of the damned






[last page before back cover]

The Book of the Damned: Leaflets


What a blessing my journal has been. She is away now once more, and I will take time to reveal some of my conscious thoughts.
The day that was my last day in the realm of humans was filled with bloodshed and much misery. It was on that day that I had earlier decided to carry with me a notebook and some ink, so that I may have recorded some of the details of the whereabouts of the demon infestation.
The swarms of demons had grown increasingly frequent, and so day's prior scouts had been sent out to do the same task I had been appointed. Few returned, and the ones that did had reported some kind of "wave of fire" that returned the demons. I now know this as the curse of Gainahtharrinisidious, and the reason why I am here.
It appeared as though the demons had found a "gateway" of sorts, a place in which the sealing, as Helix would call it, was weaker in some form. I must ask Helix of this later. It amazes me how much knowledge I now posses, for I now have explanation for numerous phenomena.
Anyways, as I was saying: quite possibly, just as the power of the magycks is stronger at certain points (It is because of the will of the G'yckma that indeed the magyck is stronger at certain places, this explains why such legends of far off lands, such as the Magicforest, harbor tales of augmented elementality.), so are the evil and pure wills; the wills of The Father and The Mother, the wills of the gods/goddesses and the demons, that is, the wills of the Children and the M'rachkenta.
Ah! It is to shame that my intellect cannot be of use in the mortal plane; for I fear that I will never again gaze upon a sunlit expanse, a green leafed tree, or a pruning sparrow.
Alas! I am in the home of the damned! How can I be in such spirits to write of such things? It is because of her; because of her that I write, because of her that I live, because of her that my writing consists of more than grumblings about the atmosphere surrounding me, because of her that I find purpose in returning this very book in my hands to the mortal plane! She is beautiful, incomparably so. It's as if the stars in the night sky crashed into the seething ocean and smelted together as in a smithy's furnace; only the heat produced not fiery red but vibrant blue.
I know not much of her eyes; I do know that they are of the immortals. They blaze unnaturally. Past times I have taken the time to wonder what the other gods look like, whether or not they are in such a human form as us, or as A'mnilia(for Helix said, "The Mother's A'mnilia bore resemblance to some of Her children themselves, for all that comes from The Mother was to remind her offspring of Her."), and whether or not their eyes are so vividly cerulean.
The mortal temples to the gods contain such fashioned images of Those Above, like Toulind, whom leans upon a sword, and Alandin, whom holds a book. Alandin is portrayed in statue form as a centaur, I wonder if this is his true form? I have to come understand, through the narrative of Helix, that the Alphairrian A'mnilia are of pure form, such as that of Alacandis, who is the purest dragon A'mnilia. If the gods are, indeed of such a form, then it can be said that the A'mnilia themselves are based from the Children themselves, for they came first, just as Helix proclaimed. I do wonder about the eyes of the A'mnilia, and the eyes of The Children themselves.
And what of The Mother and The Father? What do they look like? Do they even look like something? If it is possible for a mortal to enter into Xophaltez without being sealed, is it possible to enter Alphairria?
I have many questions. Alas, my writing must end for now, because Helix has returned, and with her, her demon slaughter. Relnits she has killed and brought to me, for they contain much water in their flesh, although visibly, it does not appear so. We cook and eat the Relnits, the small, insect like demons that roam around in the red sands…They resemble the scarabs of Salcarr.
I once asked of Helix if consuming the flesh of M'rachtachtken, or demons, was of great taboo or sin. She replied, "Do not consume the blood," and since then, I have looked upon my cursed arm with much more fear…

-Chiel, 32nd meal