Damned

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by K R Leikvoll


  “Must I leave your side?”

  “Yes. Do not fret, beloved. You will not be forgotten.”

  I gained the courage to kiss him rather than the opposite. His return of affections was euphoria-inducing. With displeasure, I left to find my newest teacher.

  Raven was in the library, naturally, as it was his favorite place to be. I had never been in the massive, multistory athenaeum before. The shelves were nearly filled to capacity with heavy, worn tomes. Many were thousands of years old and contained rituals of darkness and the Void. Sacred knowledge to never be shared with the outside world. I would not truly value all of Vince’s work until much later.

  Sendrys and her two demonic Kaz’moran children were practicing necromancy toward the titan sized panels of crimson glass. I was mesmerized by the orchid and blood colored runes that they drew in the air with only a fingertip. Because of the no magical technology agreement, I had not been witness to spellwork beyond what I had seen my Master do.

  “Lazarus?” Raven’s voice called to me from the other end of the library. He was at an obsidian table, surrounded by books stacked on all sides where he could reach them. When I approached and looked at his work curiously, it was simply numerals written in a fresh tome. I did not understand what they meant; they looked like another language altogether.

  “It is good to see you again,” I said to him truthfully. Though I hardly knew my arena fighting idol, I would have rather been in his company than Varnoc’s, or the other scum.

  Raven stood, knocking books over, and gave me a crooked, fanged smile. His hair was a bit messy, probably from manic weeks without sleep and only reading. I could tell he had been in that spot for some time based on the amount of empty food platters and chalices lying around.

  “You look as beautiful as ever, Warden,” he said with a slight bow. His words were mildly overbearing, as I was not sure how to respond.

  I was still mildly star struck by his presence after years of learning his techniques. I had squandered many nights away gambling against a Zaarian brute to acquire the first book Raven had finished. It was during his time of arena fighting, detailing weapon techniques and the correct order to master them in. It was invaluable information to me, and likely the reason I had risen to power over the three decades I was imprisoned there.

  “Thank you,” I whispered shyly as he brushed his lips on my hand. He paused and peeked upward at my wrist before taking my arm in his grasp.

  “This won’t do. What happened?” he asked as he examined both of my wrists. They had ceased their aching, though the right had healed improperly without a way to set it.

  I did not want to reply nor did I wish to tell the tale. Being held prisoner and almost murdered by peasants was embarrassing to say the least. Beyond that, I never wished to think of my trials again.

  “You know I have to help you heal this properly. Let us retreat to somewhere more comfortable.”

  He watched Sendrys and the twins as we left over his shoulder for a reason I was unsure of. Perhaps they might have been doing something that interested him, or he merely wished to give me privacy for my healing process.

  We walked all the way to the northeastern tower, where both of our rooms were. We would have gone to my bedroom had it not been for Varnoc’s presence inside. Instead, he led me into his chambers for the first time where I would not have to see anyone else. I could faintly hear my Master and James speaking in the other room before Raven shut the door.

  His bedroom reminded me more of Femoran décor than any other part of the castle. The flooring was black like his bed littered with scrolls. The walls were sharp as if they had been carved into the stone instead of being constructed normally. The texture appeared smooth, perfect for weapons. A massive Femoran rope lamp hung from the ceiling crackling with orange fire. It was adorned with sparkling gems.

  I would come to understand Raven’s unspoken desire for fine things like my Master, though his reasoning was different. He had lived most of his younger, mortal life in the Everglade as a mutt born from a Femoran and a Zaarian. The poverty he endured caused him to never want to live like that again. Not even remotely. He wore the most expensive clothing, ate the most expensive food, and only used the most precious materials for inks and potions. Luckily for him, my Master was more than willing to spoil him and purchase anything he wished.

  “I didn’t know I would be playing the role of healer in my bedroom today,” Raven said with a chuckle. He tidied the bed, removing all of the scrolls and stuffing them wherever he could make them fit on one of his shelves.

  I sat down, instantly feeling drowsy from my time without a bed. I was used to the rickety wagon on the bumpy rock terrain of Zaar. I made the mental plan to remove Varnoc from my room afterward to rest.

  “I apologize in advance,” Raven stated as he sat at the edge of the bed beside me. He handed me a small flask of pleasant-smelling potion. With encouragement from his eyes, I swallowed it in a few gulps. It was tasteless and had the consistency of melted wax, but it was better than enduring what I knew was coming.

  I took a deep breath and held my right wrist to him without resisting. I trusted him entirely despite how little I knew him. Every encounter we had, he had been administering some form of treatment. Raven gave me a genuinely sorry look before taking my arm in both of his hands. I closed my eyes.

  He felt around for a moment and flexed my fingers to determine the best spot. Even the potion I drank could not keep away all of the pain from having my barely healed wrist snapped once more. I stifled my whimper into my sleeve to not embarrass myself.

  “I know it is painful, but it will be healed in a matter of moments. Deep breath,” Raven said, releasing my arm. I peeked at how swollen it had grown, unable to smother my discomforted sounds. He searched his pockets in his purple silken robe for a moment before sighing.

  “What is it?” I groaned. He looked from his door then back to me and shrugged.

  “I suppose I left the rest of my vials in the cellars. It is no matter,” Raven said, lifting a dagger from his bedside table. I was incredibly puzzled as I watched him slice the blade across his palm. I was even more confused when he held his bleeding hand over an empty bowl and placed it in my lap. “Well?”

  “I don’t believe our Master would be pleased–” I stammered, unsure. His blood was as black as Vince’s, but that did not inhibit me from remembering James’ words in Eidune.

  “Oh nonsense. You wish to heal, don’t you?”

  “But James said –“

  “James has his head up his own ass. I merely wish for you to recover, Lazarus. Your Sacrament is upcoming and we are bound to the same coven anyhow,” Raven stated logically. I could not argue more beyond it being against what James had mentioned.

  Hesitantly, I lifted the bowl to my lips.

  Dousing my soul in the blood of sacred demons.

  Tainting myself; pulling myself in every direction.

  Raven’s palm sealed the wound with no pain written on his face. In fact, he seemed rather pleased that I had willingly drank his offering with little apprehension. At the time, I did not know he had tricked me into forming a blood bond before the Dark Sacrament I was due to perform with my Master. I believe he did it to ensure that I would be closer to him than James or any other besides Vince.

  As he held my wrist still while it healed, I was overwhelmed by the sensation of his demonic essence. My desires for my Master’s blood were put into focus. Though his substance was by far the best, Raven’s blood was not distant from his in sensation. His purple eyes enchanted me; his grasp on my arm was one that made my Master’s distance tolerable. I could not help sighing and lying back on his bed in absolute relief from my longings.

  “That is better, isn’t it?”

  I did not respond. Whether I could have is not something I recall. I watched the fire flicker in his foreign lamp curiously. The colors seemed brighter than I remembered flames being. Raven was more demonic in appearance; it was as if
I could see into the infinite Void when I gazed back at him. He knew of my affliction and kept me sated, without me ever needing to utter a word of discontent. It was a compassionate action and the beginning of a beneficial relationship – something I would have never changed, despite it being against our Master’s wishes. And it was with clear reason.

  Blood bonds tended to make everything confusing in terms of personal affairs. The desire of sacrifice was not something easily avoided, even before I became a demon. Raven knew far more than I; he knew that if he went against Vince’s wishes, he would be punished, but if I took his offerings and willingly allowed it to happen, it was my fault. He was keeping himself safe at the risk of me. Not that he wished for either of us to get caught doing such a thing, but it was better to keep himself safe than to chance displeasing our Master.

  After the plentiful dose of blood and healing, I was rather drugged and tired. Raven was kind enough to escort me to my room. Varnoc was inside, lying on the divan he had claimed and reading a book from the library. His presence was a nuisance, but I was not in the mood for an argument. Raven, my soon to be kin, tucked me into bed and gave a clear indication to Varnoc with his eyes that he was also displeased with him intruding on my privacy. My Zaarian companion, however, could not be bothered to notice as he was consumed by his reading.

  “Get some rest, Warden. We have much to discuss when you wake. You know where to find me.”

  Raven left with a slight bow. And for some, inexplicable reason to me at the time, I did not wish to watch him go.

  THE VOID

  AND THE VOID LORDS

  I had expected my homecoming to be filled with more than what it amounted to – day after day of studying with hardly a single break. My Master was not exaggerating when he told me that I would need the knowledge his library had to offer. It came as no surprise that I had grossly underestimated what it meant to become a demon.

  The Dark Sacrament was not something taken lightly, nor was it a ritual carried out easily on just anyone. It was a blessed and elevated spell above the dark ritual, which is merely performing all three forms of sacrifice with another demon. The Dark Sacrament forever binds one’s soul to not only that who squired you, but also that of the Void Lords. It was a divine blessing as it was a divine curse.

  Evyans worshipped the old cosmic Titan Solario before they began to worship the light, but neither afterlife could claim me if I bound myself to Vincent. My soul could never be freed once pledged to the gods of darkness. I could lie and dictate that I only felt utmost loyalty and glee at being chosen, but what is the purpose of lies now? I was mildly terrified at the idea of selling my soul for temporary power. It was clear, if I did not do well under the ever-watchful eye of my new gods, I would suffer for an eternity.

  Had it not been for the calming guidance of Raven those days in the library, I may have fled. Not because I didn’t wish to be a demon, but because the thought of failure and an agonized aeon was keeping me up at night. He assured me the truth of the Vast Dark was worth any torture. The everlasting darkness would guide me through any apprehension. I hoped fiercely he was telling me the truth.

  I must have read almost every tome in Vince’s arsenal of knowledge during these long years, but none are worthy of being transcribed in my confessions beyond the most precious history of my gods. Once Praetis is burnt to a crisp and these books are all ash, this is the only information I have dictated is necessary to retain.

  The Void & the Void Lords:

  Written by Vincent Lyon

  THE VOID

  The Void was not always the hidden sanctuary for demons that it is currently. As it happens, the Void was originally created by the great primordial evil named Azotl as a method to transport its armies and energies between dimensional planes. Though little is known of Azotl beyond what we have been told by Naazvaba, we do know that Azotl exists in the dimension of all primordial beings. Because of this, it is unable to directly interfere in our third dimension.

  The Great War, that is the war of powers that existed before our very universe, conquered countless planes of reality during its duration. Azotl sought to return all that exists to the Vast Dark in which all things had come from long ago. This primordial, the Lord of our Lords, could not risk existing in any plane past the Vast Dark as losing the Great War could cause damage to the balance of order and insurmountable chaos. It is speculated by myself and my research that the death of a being such as Azotl could cause the death of light itself, along with the light primordial Vynir. Thus, the two are locked in an everlasting conflict where neither can contend in the same plane and must use others to exact their goals.

  The first Voids to appear existed in the ninth dimension as a branch to Azotl’s influence, letting in an influx of dark energy and demons to all possible worlds and realities. Though entire universes had been consumed by the Vast Dark, the primordial of light Vynir was not without victories as well. Warriors bastioned by the light contended against the demonic armies for countless eons and it seemed for a while that all would be lost for the darkness when Azotl found a way to corrupt those that threatened the Vast Dark.

  Four warriors would exact Azotl’s victories across various planes to bolster the Vast Dark: originally named Bael, Naraeth, Vrayor and Azmordia. After their corruption, they proceeded to create “Voids” across the cosmos to exist in until their armies gained enough strength to summon them to battle and destroy their target planets. They exist in the Void for much of the same reason Azotl exists in the Vast Dark: a being such as that can tear reality when in a lesser dimensional plane and it is considered too risky to stay long term.

  The Void itself is divided into nine layers, so to speak. Each layer has its own essence and demons are categorized and kept in these layers for the protection of the Void Lords and the Void. These levels are as follows:

  -Limbo: Only demons created without consent are kept here for the safety of all. It is highly populated with the damned and they are the first to be sent as lesser demons in new conflicts.

  -Lust: Demons that had not only an acute desire for all manners of the second form of sacrifice, but also purely self-indulgent individuals are kept in this layer. The inhabitants on some level were not subservient to the Void Lords as they focused only on themselves and their own pleasure that their gift gave them. Because of this, no demon in this layer is gifted with the luxuries of other levels. They are often sent to manipulate mortals in the form of succubi and incubi.

  -Gluttony: All of the demons that were blood and sacrifice obsessed during their first conversion are kept here. They are stronger from their abundant feedings, but they also continuously pine for what they cannot have. Though they suffer from a lack of sacrifice during their time in the Void, they emerge from the darkness as a higher tier of lesser demons.

  -Greed: This level is reserved for mostly archdemons in the lesser demon category that used wealth to corrupt worlds. They are fond of whispering false promises of treasures and glory to beings of power and allowing it to poison them. The god of the dragons debased by Azotl in the Great War, named Leviathan, dwells here as a guardian to the deeper layers of the Void.

  -Wrath: Originally one of the only layers of the Void, it is home to demons of rage and fury. Those that harbored intense resentment outside of their demonic life are changed into incarnates of hatred. They serve primarily as the Void Lord Nakarius’ servants as he is the source of their torment and desires of revenge toward others.

  -Heresy: Heresy lies within the demon city known as Dys. Demons that reside here are the ones that worked hard both in life and demonic undeath to disparage the light and those that worship the light. They are gifted in this level with grand knowledge of the Vast Dark and work with summoned demons on other planes to commune with the Void. They also provide a large source of demonic energy to all demons through their particular enlightenment.

  -Violence: Only the greatest of warriors that spread darkness within all things through the first form of sac
rifice exist in this layer. They brought enough terror in their actions to place them at a spot of favor with the Void Lords. Most are rewarded for their feats of strength during their lifetime and may return to the Vast Dark if they so choose.

  -Fraud: This is commonly known as the “Cemetery of Kings” for most that have been damned to this level are rulers that fell to darkness during their reign. For those that were fraudulent toward the light, they live in a state of elevated existence where the so called “fog of the Void” has been cleared so they may have clarity.

  -Treachery: This is the deepest, most hidden layer of the Void that none beyond Baelarius may reside. It is said that the entrance to the primordial plane is kept here for the time in which the demonic army gained enough strength to join Azotl’s Great War. The only demons that serve directly under Baelarius in this level are demons that have not only betrayed themselves and the light, but everyone else around them and the very Void Lords themselves. It is as much as a punishment as a blessing to be so near the Void Lord of Lies; there is no record of any greater demon existing in this layer, so much is left to speculation about what actually happens here. It is the core of the Void and it cannot exist without the layer intact, and no Void-bound demons can leave if the core layers are destroyed.

  The Void is ruled by the four Void Lords: Baelarius, Nakarius, Valorius and Azmordius. While the layer of Limbo does not have a ruler, the rest of the layers are overseen by the correlating Void Lord.

  Lust and Heresy is ruled by the Void Lord Azmordius.

  Gluttony and Greed is ruled by the Void Lord Valorius.

  Wrath and Violence is ruled by the Void Lord Nakarius.

  And finally, Fraud and Treachery is ruled by the Void Lord Baelarius.

  Together it forms the single working Void and its rulers referred to only as Naazvaba.

 

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