The Sixth Hell
Nasphel, Lord of the Sixth Hell, stood behind his bride and lay gentle hands on her bare shoulders. He stroked her cheek with one hand, and she leaned into it, eyes closed, a blissful smile in her face. He turned her face up to his, and offered his other hand that she may rise. “I love you,” he said. “And I you, beloved,” she replied, standing. She put her arms about his neck, and he took hold of her waist, pulling her into an embrace. Their foreheads touched and she kissed him lightly on the mouth. “The happiest day of my life was the day you asked me to become the Lady Nasphelene.” “And you do not miss your old name?” he asked. “I do not think of it, my love.” “Nor your old life, and those you shared it with?” She laughed, and the sound was that of wind through spring leaves, “I have but one life, my darling,” she assured him, “and only one I would share it with.” He smiled, satisfied. “I am glad to hear you say so, dearest,” he extended his arm, “Join me on a tour of our dominion, my lady, before we retire for the evening?” She hooked her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder, “I would be delighted, my lord.” They walked the length and breadth of the Sixth Hell, inspecting and observing its many workings. They stopped by a series of sulfurous pits, where demons of the Fifth Hell pulled small leech-like creatures from slimy translucent eggs. “The Birth Pits are fertile, Lord Nasphel,” she observed. “Aye, Lady Nasphelene,” he agreed, “This clutch of hatchlings are strong. It is believed that nearly all shall make their way up through the Hells, at least to the Third. I would not be surprised if some even earned their place among the elite.” He cupped her chin and kissed her, staring deep into her eyes, “It is because of you, my love, that we know such abundance.” She blushed, casting her eyes down, “You honor me, lord.” He smiled, and motioned for them to continue on. As they walked, they spoke of small things, exchanging endearments and kisses as newlyweds do. Their talk turned to weightier matters as they returned to his castle. “Have I spoken to you,” he asked her, “of how the elite came to rule over Hell?” She nodded, “You have, my lord, though it would please me to hear you speak of it again.” He patted her hand absently, his gaze turned away, toward the distant past. “The royalty of Hell were not always as we are now. Once,” he said, “we soared high above the mortal world on wings of brilliant hues. We were the Sol Ky Taan, created by the god Solar to be guardians for his new race of humans.” His face turned bitter and his eyes dark, “But when we sought our due, a place in Faery, we were punished, our celestial home brought crashing down, our bodies disfigured and our souls ravaged.” “You do not appear so disfigured to me, my love,” she said softly, gently stroking his arm. He smiled down at her, “Ah,” he said, “but you did not know me then. My skin was the deepest crimson, my wings the color of a tropical sea. I was beautiful...” he sighed, his head lowered. “This tale saddens me, Nasphelene,” he said, “and my heart grows heavy with the telling.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “Then let us retire to your bedchamber, my darling, and I shall do my best to lighten your heavy heart and lift the sadness from your soul.” Later, in Nasphel’s bedchamber, the Lord of the Sixth Hell looked upon his bride with desire. She had removed the diamonds from her hair, and it fell to her shoulders. He approached her and began to unlace the back of her dress. “What is that, my lord?” she asked, indicating an ornate red door to one side of the chamber. “It is the door to the Underworld,” he murmured, his lips tracing a line up her neck to behind her ear, “It leads to the realm of Queen Umbra.” She leaned her head back against his shoulder, eyes closed. “Mmmm,” she moaned quietly, seemingly heedless of his answer. His fingers twitched over her diamond necklace. “May I remove this, darling?” he asked casually. She sighed, languidly, relaxing further into him, “I would leave it on,” she said, “I am quite fond of it,” she smiled and said, “though you may remove anything else you wish, beloved.” He continued kissing her as he finished unlacing her dress. His mouth opened slightly, the points of his teeth grazing the flesh of her neck. “Do you want to?” she whispered. “Only by your leave,” he answered, voice quivering with anticipation. “As my heart is yours,” she said, leaning her head to one side to expose as much of her neck as possible, “so follows my soul. You may feed on it at your pleasure.” His smile widened and he bit deep into her neck, preparing to drink of the sweet nectar that was her soul. But in the next moment, he reared his head back, howling in brutal agony. He fell to the floor, his face beginning to melt away. “Wh-what?!” he cried out in pained confusion. His blood froze at the sound of her laughter. It was sinister and mocking. He looked up at her, clutching his mangled face. Her black dress had fallen away, and she was dressed once more in her usual gown, sword tucked into her belt. Her birthmark flared brilliantly, blinding him for a moment. “You fool,” she said, scorn dripping from her voice, “You arrogant, unthinking fool.” She stood over him, and the look on her face was one of disgust, “Did you truly think your pitiful illusion had ensnared me? That I was enslaved to your ‘superior’ will?” She touched the Passage Crystal that hung about her neck, no longer the illusory diamond necklace, “Or that I would freely give this up to you?” She crossed the room to the door and turned back to her ersatz husband. “This is all I was really after,” she informed him, gesturing at the door, “because behind this door is the only man I will ever love.” “Lady Nasphelene...” he reached for her, desperately. All his plans were falling apart. If he could just exert his influence...he clutched at her mind, but grasped only her anger. The Queen would not forgive him this failure. “My name is Artemis Vega,” she growled, “and I am slave to no one.” Before he could stop her, or cry for aid, she turned and kicked the final door open. Without a backward glance, she left the final Hell and entered the Underworld. As the door slammed shut behind her, Nasphel began to cry.
Umbra, Queen of the Underworld
Artemis kicked open the door to the Underworld, stepped in and let it slam shut behind her. She stood within a massive cavern and shouted her challenge. “UMBRA!” A voice echoed its way through the twisting tunnels of the cavern, “Well well, little sister. It would appear your mettle is stronger than I’d assumed.” “You’ll find out just how strong soon enough, ‘sister’,” Artemis called out, “Will you show yourself, or are you truly the coward I believe you to be?” Harsh laughter was her answer, followed by a taunt, “Come and find me, little sister... come and find me...” Artemis stood still and examined her surroundings. There did not appear to be anyone except her in the cavern. The only sound that could be heard was the steady drip of water from the high ceiling. The rock of the walls seemed strange, almost soft, while the harder rock of the floor was very brittle. Closer examination revealed the floor to be made of bone, the walls and formations of flesh. She sniffed the air, and caught the distinct tang of blood, which explained what was dripping from the ceiling. She grunted and rolled her eyes. “More theatrics,” she growled softly, “just what I was in the mood for.” She studied her potential ways forward, and was slightly dismayed. There were many paths through the caverns, and she assumed most would double back and intersect one another. It was unlikely that more than two would lead her where she wanted to go. Then she caught a faint whisper in her mind. ...artemis... Recognition struck her mind forcefully. Kael! ...artemis...help... Artemis followed the dim beacon cast by Kael’s thoughts, rushing down a central corridor. Hold on, Kael! I am here! I am coming! Just hold on! ...so cold...dark...i...i’m frightened... Kael! I’m coming! Please hold- Artemis skidded to a stop at the edge of a steep cliff. Across from her, an island of bone rose from a sea of fire. Seated on a throne made from pieces of demons’ skeletons, Umbra laughed. A cage of solid thought hung from the high ceiling behind her, and within it was Kael’s fading soul. “Welcome, little sister,” Umbra mocked, lounging in her macabre throne, “as you can see, your darling Kael is well within your reach.” She spread her arms wide, “All you need do is come and take him from me,” she cackled, “if you can.” Artem
is studied the Dark Queen. She was tall and very thin. She wore tattered clothing that seemed a combination of styles Artemis had never seen before. A thick chain was about her neck, with a lock hanging from it like a pendant. Her hair was black as pitch, and chopped short in ragged spikes. Eyes of pure night stared out from a porcelain face, and her black lips parted in a sinister smile. Turning her attention away from her adversary, Artemis tried to gauge the distance between herself and Kael’s prison. The chasm was wide, but she believed she could jump it, despite the fire. She took a few steps back and prepared to run, when suddenly a giant black dragon loomed up out of the flames, smoke billowing from its nostrils. Artemis grit her teeth as Umbra renewed her mocking laughter. The dragon stared at the princess, and flames licked about the edges of its lips. Looking above its head, Artemis saw a low-hanging stalactite and had an idea. She pulled the rope from its pouch on her belt, took a few more steps back, then ran full speed to the edge and leaped high into the air. She let fly the rope, and it wrapped itself around the fleshy cave formation, holding fast. As she swung over the dragon’s head, it reared back and spread its jaws, preparing to roast her in mid- air. When she was immediately over the gaping maw, she dropped the entire pouch of explosive powder down the monster’s throat. Immediately, loud rumbling could be heard from within its belly, and it fell backward into the sea of fire with a shriek. Artemis began swinging down to the island of bone, and with a snap brought the rope back to her. She hit the ground in a crouch, stood and drew her sword. Just then, a massive explosion sent sheets of fire up to the ceiling of the cavern, casting Artemis in silhouette. Only her birthmark was visible, glowing a radiant blue. “Oh, well done, princess,” Umbra taunted, “but do not believe you have won.” At her signal, a troop of mechanical men, resembling very crude imitations of Emfex, marched out to take position in front of Artemis. “Do you like them?” Umbra asked, “A gift from the smiths of the Sixth Hell, powered by the souls of the Damned.” She put a finger to the side of her mouth and pursed her lips. “That reminds me,” she cooed, “how is darling Nasphel?” “Missing most of his face, the last I saw him,” Artemis said sharply. “Ah,” Umbra sighed, “a shame. But, more of his kind where he came from, right?” “If you say so,” Artemis said. She gestured at the mechanical men, “I assume I’m to fight my way through them?” “Oh, aren’t we impatient,” Umbra said, “No time to visit, just grab your beloved and go, is that it?” Artemis simply glared. “Well then,” Umbra smiled, “I suppose we’ll skip to the part where my little army here tears you to pieces.” Artemis gouged a thick line in the ground in front of her feet with her sword, then set herself in a fighting crouch. She held up her free hand and beckoned the robots forward, her mouth turning upward in a crooked smile. “Any time you’re ready,” she said.
Rise of the Redeemer
Artemis stood behind the line she’d drawn, slashing and stabbing at the oncoming mechanical horde. Metal collapsed, wires tore and gears sprung as the Princess of Vega vanquished Queen Umbra’s army. One-by-one, they tumbled over the side of the cliff, their broken bodies melting in the flames of Damnation. When the last had gone to its fiery end, Artemis looked up at Umbra and smirked. “It would seem, ‘sister’, that I have broken your little toy soldiers,” she spun her sword casually and assumed a relaxed fighting stance, “Have you any more?” Umbra erupted in a dark rage, “MORE?! Do I have more?!” She glared down at Artemis, seething, “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to make those?” “So, you don’t have any more?” Artemis asked with mock-innocence. Umbra stood and drew a scythe from behind her throne. She spun it expertly from one hand to the other and looked down on her younger sibling. “Oh,” she said softly, “I wouldn’t worry. I’m more than enough of a challenge for you.” Artemis held her sword ready and smiled, “Let’s just see about that.” With an inhuman wail, Umbra leaped down from her throne, scythe held high above her head. Artemis crouched low and raised her sword. Umbra hit the ground hard, cracks radiating out from her feet. The point of her scythe struck the ground where Artemis had been, but the princess was no longer there. Umbra snarled and pulled it free. She turned, and Artemis stood behind her, at the foot of her throne. “How..?” Umbra lowered her weapon in confusion. Without warning, Artemis let fly her three curved blades. Umbra quickly spun her scythe and deflected them. Sparks flew as metal collided with metal, and the force of impact pushed Umbra backward. The blades flew back to Artemis, and she caught them all in one hand. “Nice,” she said, “but you’ve put yourself in a bit of a nasty spot.” Umbra glanced around her, noticing how close she was to the edge of the cliff. She looked up again just in time to see Artemis’ booted foot in the moment before it struck her face. She flew backward off the cliff, but managed to catch hold of the edge before she fell. The flames licked at her heels, and the hem of her tattered skirt began to smoke. She looked up, and Artemis glared down at her. “Well?” Umbra taunted, “What now? We both know you won’t let me fall. Whatever moronic code of honor you subscribe to will force you to pull me to safety, and when you do, I will-” Artemis brought the heel of her boot down hard on Umbra’s fingers and shoved the dark goddess’ hand backward off the ledge. She smiled as Umbra screamed in surprise and pain, then turned away from the sea of fire. She threw one of her blades at the line that secured Kael’s prison to the cavern ceiling. When the line snapped, she leapt forward and caught the cage, lowering it gently to the ground. She caught the returning blade absently, and slid it into its pouch. ...artemis... Oh, Kael, she thought, I am here. I am here, and soon you will be safe. ...hurry... Artemis could see no way to open the cage with her hands. It seemed to be all of a piece, with no hinge or edge to break open. Then she remembered that this prison was fashioned of pure thought. Closing her eyes, she reached out to it with her mind. A series of telepathic blocks confronted her. They were puzzles, existing only in the subconscious, and she took a few moments to solve them. The blocks dissolved, and she opened her eyes. Kael stood before her, though he was barely visible, and looked very tired. He reached for her with phantom arms, and she gathered him close. ...artemis...i am...fading...cannot... “Hush, beloved,” Artemis said, leaning close, “I am here to save you.” She kissed Kael’s shade, and he flared brilliantly before seeming to disappear. Artemis felt the soul of her love enter her. Instinctively, it sought her own, and her body convulsed as the two souls merged within her. Her hair darkened to a shimmering silver, her skin to a pale blue. Her birthmark flared white, the full moon being replaced by a white sun symbol. The Passage Crystal embedded itself in her forehead, and her third eye opened around it. As she rose slowly to her feet, great wings unfurled from her back, their hue matching that of her gown. She opened her eyes, which glowed a brilliant indigo, and found that she was no longer Artemis Vega. Nor was she Kael T’Ken. She was both, and she was also something more. A hideous shriek caused her to turn, and she saw Umbra climb up out of the flames. The dark goddess’ clothes and hair had been singed, though she seemed otherwise undamaged. A look of abject fear came over her face and she fell to her knees, weeping. “NO!” she cried to the ceiling of her prison, “This is not fair! All my efforts-” “All your efforts have been in vain,” Artemis-Kael said, “We are the Redeemer. Our coming was foretold. Though you strived to prevent it, your actions have only served to bring it about. The Compact has ended. The Time of Changes is at hand.” “The Redeemer,” Umbra wept into the ground, “The Redeemer has come!” The Redeemer rose into the air and over the sea of fire, not sparing so much as a glance for the stricken goddess. When she was alone once more, Umbra crawled to the foot of her throne and huddled there, her body wracked by uncontrollable laughter. “‘Lo shall come together the Daughter of the Moon and the Last Child of the Sun’,” she whispered, “‘They shall be known as the Redeemer...” she looked around, cackling wildly. “... and all of Hell will tremble at Their passing’.”
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