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// Chapter I: Escape From Tartarus 
// Story: The Ancient Arcanist 
// by Histy 
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Tartarus. The infamous realm of the damned. Those who have the misfortune of being imprisoned here are doomed to suffer an eternity of isolation, where there is no magic, no room, and no escape. Some have committed heinous crimes, while others have done things I don't care to remember.

Most intelligent beings that have been imprisoned here have already gone completely and totally insane, with their total isolation making them into ruthless, thoughtless beings. The quickest one to reach the stage of insanity did so in only a few days of being here. Overall, the creatures in Tartarus were a monstrous mess that no longer had any sanity to call their own.

I am rather happy to say that I am not part of their group.

During my time in this place, I discovered a unique, but very easy trick that prevented my mind from becoming demented in this God-forsaken place I've been imprisoned in during the past few millennia. It was thinking. Thinking about… abstract concepts, shall we say? Such as… can magic bring eternal life? What's the highest number I can count to? How large was Tartarus? And most importantly, how many escape plans can I come up with? So many questions with an equal amount of answers, or more.

I was able to count all the way up to 1,000,000 before finally abandoning that in favor of topics I found to be more intriguing, like... what was Tartarus' size? Thus, for many days (or weeks; as I'd already lost track of time by this point), I looked out into the reddish-violet landscape in a vain attempt to figure out how large this place really was. I eventually came to an estimate of about a hundred square miles, possibly larger.

Then there was the possibility of how I could escape. This was the topic I spent most of my time on, scheming and thinking of an innumerable amount of plans to bypass Cerberus and find a way to get the gate open without alerting him. Most of my plans were concerned with the three-headed hound for a good number of reasons. Most notably that I couldn't use my magic to summon my staff and defend myself.

Nonetheless, I eventually moved on from that, too. I moved onto other topics in the meantime, or made my imagination go into overdrive as though I were on some kind of drug, imagining a man turning into a fox that can breath fire, a warlord covered head to toe in golden armor brutally taking over an Empire for himself, and even me being productive for once and carving out an Empire of my own with subordinates in tow.

Sometimes, I do go back on the topic of escape, making up more plans or grooming others due to a few logical errors I had missed at the time it was made. But I never built up the courage to act on one of these plans, as my fear of imminent failure prevailed each and every time. Instead, I just went back to sleep, then on the next day continued procrastinating by daydreaming radical stories and tales.

That was until, on one particular day, the gates of Tartarus slammed open, violently awakening me from a deep slumber.





SLAM!!!

I jolted awake when that deafening sound echoed loudly across all of Tartarus, probably startling all of its inmates. Almost immediately after my sudden awakening, the most throbbing and painful headache raked my head. I couldn't focus on whatever had disturbed my sleep as the pain was too extreme to ignore. So I clutching my head with my chained hands in a vain attempt to relax my headache.

"Fuckin' hell," I muttered under my breath. "I hate it when I wake up like this…"

Eventually (I estimated around ten to twenty minutes), the headache finally subsided enough to where I could actually regard my surroundings again. Looking around, nothing seems to have changed. Same depressing colors, everyone imprisoned like they should be, and that one idiot over there was still gnawing at his cage like he was when he came in long ago. Overall, the only thing that seemed to be different was that Cerberus was nowhere to be seen, and-

My thoughts ground to a halt once I realized what those words meant. Cerberus was nowhere to be seen. He was gone. Like, gone gone. If I wanted to escape (and I did), that dumb mutt won't be anywhere to stop me from doing so. It was the perfect scenario for escape, no complex planning required, and no need to worry about being caught. And I wanted to take it.

And yet I remained hesitant to do so. After all, what if Cerberus was merely somewhere else in Tartarus? Also, my area wasn't the only one he had to watch, he just preferred to be here more than anywhere else. And even if he did leave, he always came back a few minutes later. What if he came back and saw me escaping? He'd just force me back and imprison me with brand new, unbreakable chains. Or worse, a cage.

"Even if that's true," the ambitious part of my mind butted in, "does it explain the loud sound that awakened you?"

That much was correct. What was that sound? I scanned around the desolate landscape of Tartarus to find the potential source of it, but as expected found nothing of note. However, something did ended up acquiring my attention.

Down at the bottom of one of the containment towers, were the footprints of Cerberus. It wasn't all that difficult to identify considering how he was the only one allowed to roam around Tartarus. Most of the prints were in a circular pattern, which was accurate, seeing as that mutt always liked walking in circles.

But that wasn't what actually caught my eye. What did was the fact that there were more tracks, but unlike the others, they walked in a single direction, away from the circle and into an unknown part of Tartarus. They went quite far, and I doubt that Cerberus, wherever he was, wouldn't see me escape from my tower, and if I wanted to escape, the time to do so was now.

After finally making my decision and pushing back my fear of failure, I quickly looked to the chains that held me down, finding them worn and rusty from many years of neglect. That was a good sign, it'll be easier to break them. Testing this, I gave an experimental pull to assess their strength.

Despite many years of decay, they remained strong, resisting every attempt I made to break them. After some time, I could feel them getting more loose to the ground and weakening. Desperately wanting myself to be free, I kept pulling, ignoring the massive pain and strain that was growing on my wrists, screaming at me to stop. This continued for some minutes, before a sudden snap brought me surging forward, tumbling face-first to the ground with a thud.

Quickly recovering, I looked back to where I had been chained. They were detached from the ground, officially making me free to wander Tartarus for an escape route. Despite the chains remaining locked around my still aching wrists, the only thing on my mind was the thought of finally leaving this wretched place.

"All according to plan," I joked to myself, chuckling at how stupid that sounded, considering none of this was actually planned.

Nonetheless, I wasted no time in leaving my containment tower and into the barren wasteland of Tartarus, hopefully for the last time.





"That was far easier than expected." I thought as I came to my destination.

The gate of Tartarus. A large entrance built and enchanted by the most talented of unicorns. It was made with the intent of keeping the dangerous monsters native to Tartarus from threatening the outside world. Come thousands of years later, and it soon became a place where the most dangerous individuals - from offences ranging from practicing forbidden magic, to being a threat to the entire world - would be imprisoned, starting with me. There's no doubt in my mind that if the Emperor hadn't been banished to another dimension by Gusty and her warriors, he most likely would have been imprisoned here too.

And here it now stood, wide open and practically begging me to walk through it. To leave Tartarus at last and return to the civilized world as a free man. Or woman, but I digress.

And so I walked through the gateway to my freedom. It was less dramatic than I hoped it would have been, to be honest. It was but a mere step, from one side to the other. I've always read these kinds of moments to be a kind of relief, excitement, or freedom. But I felt nothing. Just the feeling of my feet walking on the rocky path ahead of me. It was a shame that it was so underwhelming, especially after all the plans I’ve concocted during my imprisonment.

But I didn't dwell on that for too long, and kept walking along the dark pathway that led through the barren wastes of Outer-Tartarus (as I had no other name for it), moving further away from the gate, and the prison which had locked me away for what felt like an eternity. Unfortunately, I don't know exactly how long it was, and frankly I probably won't know for quite some time. Oh well. I’ll figure it out at some point anyway.

But what was also unfortunate was the fact that I was essentially powerless. As said before, I couldn't summon my trusty staff, and with that I couldn't teleport myself out of this wasteland. This was most likely due to the land in and around Tartarus had been enchanted with a spell that prevented its inmates from using their magic to escape. If this was true, then all I had to do was get far away enough from the gate, and I should be able to use my magic again. Simple.

And so I continued to walk as far as I my legs would allow. The path which I walked down was changing ever so slightly. The air around me began to feel lighter in my lungs. And best of all, I could slowly feel my magic returning with every step I took. To test this, I attempted to practice a basic fire spell. Snapping my fingers, I continued my walk. While this was happening, I began to wonder about other things I considered important.

*Snap* "I wonder what happened to everyone else. Did Gusty kill them? Or are they all scattered across the world in hiding? It's been a long time since I've been imprisoned, and one can only play hide and seek for so long, but there's still a chance they're out there."

*Snap* "Speaking of Gusty… she could be dead by now, depending on how long it's been. No mortal could ever hope to survive a few decades, after all. And her being dead would most definitely work to my benefit, as I won't have to deal with any annoying distractions."

*Snap* "And… a lot of time has passed. I know it has. I just need to figure out how much. A lot can change in a certain amount of time. To be honest, I'm quite interested to see what has happened while I dreamed away in Tartarus."

*Snap* "There we are…"

I stared at the fire hovering above my hand. It may not seem like it at first, but I was ecstatic that my theory on why I was unable to use magic had turned out to be fully correct. Just to make sure, I blew out the fire and tried again, snapping a few times before getting the same result.

I continued this cycle for the next few hours, each time requiring less snaps than the last. I also noticed that the path in front of me began to turn into a basic dirt road. The sky was starting to brighten to its normal blue, and the clouds were starting to reappear. It was clear at that point that I was nearly home free.

But I still couldn't summon my staff, or teleport for that matter. The only magic I could do was the most basic of spells, which I practiced in order to pass the time. It made me a little worried. Had my staff been destroyed somehow? Was I doomed to basic magic?

I quickly locked away those thoughts. There was no way my staff was destroyed, with it being kept in a pocket dimension which only I knew existed. Besides, my theory on Tartarus keeping my magic at bay rang true every time I tested it. There was no need to panic over-

That's when it all came down on me. I felt as though my body was being compressed to atoms with the amount of magic flowing back into me. Head aching. Heart throbbing. Vision clouded. The pressure was insane, dropping me to my knees, clutching my head tightly in a vain attempt to lessen the pain.

And then, it was just… gone.

It was strange. One second, your entire body is screeching in agony, the next you're completely fine. Nonetheless, I let out a sigh of relief, but I didn't stand. I rested for a few moments, letting my vision recover and my heart rate return to normal. As I rested there, my mind began to think again.

"Of course that's going to be how my magic returns to me. By causing extreme pain! It could have been a gradual process, but no, it had to be done that way. Stupid spell boundary - ow!"

"Fuckin' hell…" I whispered in exasperation, clutching my head again as the headache suddenly spiked in intensity, before it eventually subsided. It was annoying, having to deal with that kind of pain. It jumbles your brain and prevents you from even thinking properly. And speaking of the spell boundary…

Quickly getting back onto my feet, I turned back to the way I came. With my curiosity taking control of me, I decided to dip my right hand past the boundary, engulfing it inside the barrier which had robbed me of my magic for millennia. Almost immediately upon doing so, my right hand felt awkward. It wasn't painful, mind you, but it didn't feel much comfortable either. It felt as though a layer of my skin was being torn away from my hand, but in the least excruciating way possible, if that made any sense. Over all, I found it a little underwhelming that having magic stripped away from your being felt like this.

Pulling my hand out of the boundary, I took notice of the chains that remained bound to my wrists. They were quickly taken care of with a snap, shattering them to many pieces. My wrists felt unnatural relief at finally being unrestrained. The area where the chains were bound were a dark purple-ish color by now, still aching, but evidently not as much as before.

With the chains now out of the way, it was finally time to get back my staff after all these years.

Reaching out my hand, I began the summoning spell. I felt the magical energy building in my palm, struggling to enact the spell after many years of being disabled and unused. Due to this, I was having more difficulty than I expected. Concentrating harder, I pushed the energy in my hand to enact the spell. It intensified in power, but it remained persistent in not completing the spell. But I remained persistent as well, continuing to put more energy into my spell. Soon enough, the energy gained the power it desperately wanted, and at last accomplished the spell.

There it was, in all of its glory, my staff in my hand after god-knows-how-long. Made out of Australian buloke, it was quite the sturdy thing, able to take more force than even some of the strongest swords. The bottom edge ended with a sharp blade that was good for the purpose of stabbing things, but other than that it was rather useless. The other, more important edge, ended with a magical assembly of six conduit crystals surrounding a singular emission crystal. It took months to craft the staff itself, and even longer to find the crystals essential to operate it. This staff was my pride and joy, and as such, I found great excitement and joy at seeing it again after such a long time, like a mother to her child she hasn't seen for decades. I always connected more to objects than I did with people, after all.

However, I noticed that the crystals didn’t seem to be in good shape. Their colors were dull, especially that of the emission crystal. It was likely that age had taken its toll on them, and I had to test the capabilities of my staff to properly gauge what it could and could not do as of now.

"Let's see what you can still do after all these years," and with that, I began testing it to see what abilities it could still do, as well as could no longer do. There were a few in the latter category, most disappointing of which was weapon summoning, which ended with the emission crystal smoking intensely when attempted. This was unfortunate, as the ability to summon any weapon from any dimension for your personal use was amazing, especially with the limitless amount of advantages it can give you, whether it be at range, or in close-quarters combat. But now it was gone, and the only weapon of choice I had now was the staff, which, admittedly, I never taught myself to fight with.

In more uplifting news, I was fortunate to find that my staff could still teleport me, if it was able to teleport me from one side of the desolate road of Outer-Tartarus to the other. This was good, as I can now go wherever I want, and not have to suffer long weeks of walking aimlessly down this road and hoping civilization would pop out of the ground at any moment.

To confirm this, I tested my staff's teleportation more than once, each time getting the same result as the last. Satisfied, I decided it was finally time to leave this place, and see what has happened in the world while I was imprisoned. And to start this adventure off, I teleported to the first place that came to my head. Tambelon.

And with a bright flash, I disappeared from the road I was standing on, and began my journey into a world I hadn't seen for who-knows how many years.