//------------------------------// // Prisons // Story: The Ultimate Evil // by ChillDude78 //------------------------------// Most beings think of Tartarus as a fiery hell, a black pit full of lava and brimstone and the worst tortures imaginable to mortal minds. Where there were nonstop screams of pain and unending pleas of mercy left unanswered. A place where demons flocked about, torturing the souls of the damned for all of eternity. They are wrong. Tartarus is much worse than that. It is a cold desolate chasm, full of nothing but brimstone rocks and ash. It is not a place for the souls of evil mortals to go to. It is a prison built to contain the horrors of the demon horde. You know this well, you helped build the damn place. Most mortals believe in such tales to strike fear in the hearts of those who would choose to live a vile life. It is a well used lie, keeping most mortals from killing and raping each other in the streets, but alas they are wrong, as usual. When a mortal sprit dies, it does not go to a “heaven” or a “hell”. It becomes a new part of the cosmos and then… well not even the gods know what happens to a mortal’s soul. All that you could gather is that they simply… move on. In Tartarus, nothing moves on, nothing changes, and nothing escapes. The eternal prison is not a fiery hell where demons could wander about freely. That would defeat the purpose of it being a prison. Demons do not suffer in fire, torture, and pain, they revel in it. No, Tartarus is meant to be the ultimate opposite to their “pleasures”. It is empty, cold, and unchanging. There is no chaos, no anarchy, no pain. There is only a single order, cold and simple. No one can leave. The demons sit here in everlasting boredom, unable to do anything but wait until the end of time. A rather fitting torture for them. As you pass through the bleak cavern, you remember how cold this place actually was. Even as your aspect, you could feel your ethereal scales prickle in the chilly landscape. It was a depressing cold. Not the kind of harsh cruel overwhelming cold one feels in the frozen mountain of the north. No. It is more as an absence of heat, a draining of all warmth, of all life, of all hope. It truly was a prison. It had not been easy slipping past Cerberus, that infernal hound could smell even the most subtle magic. However, a simple conjuration of a large steak gave you enough time to slip through. Sprits know the last time that beast had a meal, so hunger clouded judgment in this case. It would seam three heads are not better than one. You chuckle to yourself as you float through the rocky wasteland. You search along the large elevated pedestals and see old weakened demons chained to posts. Their once powerful and horrid forms were now dried husks of what they once were. They glance with their frail hate-filled eyes in your direction and watch you pass. They say nothing; only stare with curiosity and detestation. You pay them no mind; you were here to see one being and one being alone. Ah, there he is. Standing, barley, atop a pedestal in the center of the chasm stood the once mighty Tirek, the Demon Centaur. He was a small shell of his former glory. A dulled red centaur, with aging hair, and the blackest eyes you have ever seen. One of his hooves is chained to a small post, it almost seams unnecessary, it would take less than a feather to cause him to collapse. But you approach cautiously. He senses your presence instantly, his eyes narrow to slits. You carefully float to stop at a secure distance from him. He may seam weak, but he is a demon, and one of the craftiest of them all, so it is better safe than sorry in this case. “Well, well, well.” He croaks out in a gravely voice. “Garmaddon the Destroyer, in the flesh.” He continues. “Not exactly.” You chuckle as you fully form. “Come to revel over your victory? It’s been centuries since those days Garmaddon, it’s time to get over yourself.” He says. “I did not come to gloat.” You say. “Oh yes, that’s right, your stuck in your own little prison. Ironic don’t you think?” “Quite.” “Well at least we agree on something.” He snickers. “I came to strike a deal with you.” you say. “Of course you did. Why else would you be here?” “Do not toy with me, filth. You are in no position to deny my offer.” “Or what Garmaddon, the fallen god? Are you gonna kill me? O believe me, I would love to embrace death, anything better than this boring wasteland.” He grumbles. A coy smile spreads across your lips. “Oh now why would you do that, Tirek, I thought you were never one to give up. Never would I have expected to see you give up… especially after what your brother did to you.” you smoothly say. Any amount of humor left within Tirek died. His blood red face grew to a nasty snarl as he lunged against his chain. “Do not mention that filthy traitor to me! He is no brother of mine, nor will he ever will be again!” he growls. You laugh in his attempt to threaten you. You continue. “Ah there’s the Tirek I remember, vengeful and malicious. I remember that look in your eyes as the pony sisters cast you into this foul place. Their first real deed as princesses as I remember.” Tirek growls in resentment. “By the way, Morpheus and Aurora are dead. I killed them.” you say as you straighten yourself with pride. “I heard.” He says. This raises an eyebrow. “How?” you ask. “I have my sources.” He coyly replies. You harrumph; this brings up an interesting question. How long has he been able to be aware of current affairs? Does he know… everything that transpired since his imprisonment? Never mind, that question is not what you came here to ask. “I also know of your imprisonment… and of your escape. It would seam as if you have just learned about the current state of affairs. Disgusting isn’t it? I knew you’d come down here soon enough. It was just a matter of time before you’d ask for our help.” He says as he waves his arms out to his fellow comrades, who have taken interest to our conversation in hushed study. “Then you know what I want.” You say. “Of course.” He replies. “But they don’t,” you begin. You turn to face the demons and address them. “I offer you this: freedom. In a matter of time I will free myself from my imprisonment, and I will return to free your from yours. In exchange, you will offer your servitude as the burning legion to be my soldiers for my army. Should you accept, you will ravage Equis as you see fit. What say you?” The demons pause and consider you offer… for about ten seconds. Then, they burst into a roar of approval. You smile confidently and turn back to Tirek. “And you will lead this army for Me.” you say. Tirek raises white eyebrow. “Me? I thought you would go to the former leader of our dammed legion.” He says. A shudder runs through your black hide. You shake your head. Not in your most desperate hour would you ever turn to him for help. Not after your last battle… “No, I would never ask him for help. I sectioned his prison away from yours for a reason, Tirek. Besides, it’s time for your elevation to the place you have truly desired for millennia, and the new master of the burning legion. If you accept my offer Tirek, you would be given a great source a magic to return to the glory that you once possessed.” You say. Tirek may be powerful, but he isn't a god. You need someone who you can control leading your army. The centaur strokes his pale beard for a moment. “Why should I trust you?” he asks. “You can’t.” you replay. “However, we seek the same goal, the destruction of Equis. The same goal you once possessed centuries ago. Help me burn it to the ground and I’ll let you and your demons leave once it is finished. I know you all have been savoring to return to traveling the cosmos, in search of your next meal.” You say. A low growl emanates from Tirek. “Very well, we have a deal. When can we expect you to… return?” he asks. “In due time.” You reply as you begin to dissipate and return to your original body. Of course Tirek will scheme to betray you in some way, but you'll be ready when the time comes. Not even the burning legion could defeat you at the height of your power. Suddenly a sinister smile slithers across Tirek’s aged face. “I wonder what dear Arthrena would think of you now.” He utters just before you disappear. You jolt back into your body with a roar. You want to unleash your breath across the cone ceiling of your prison, melt the chains keeping you within this infernal mountain. Just so you could fly back to Tartarus and whip that smug grin of his face. He just had to get in the last laugh before you made your exit. But you will not return, not for a while, possibly even centuries, not until you were free and powerful again. As the green pool cools the anger within. You think back to Arthrena. No, no, stop it! She is gone and she is never coming back. And yet… you remember… It was a black night, the moon had just arisen, but you couldn’t tell. The night sky was hidden behind black storm clouds. It was the month of the invasion. In the distance you could see the giant black leviathans return to space. You had won this day, but the demons would be back, ready to strike again. Your battle had cost many lives to secure; it was thanks to the reinforcements sent from the griffons that won this day. You watch as the horrific battleships retreat into the blackness, and you hear thunder in the distance. It was going to rain tonight, just as well. The blood soaked fields needed to be washed. “Your hurt.” You hear from a soothing voice. You turn to see Arthrena, cut and scarred from the battle, but still as beautiful as ever, look at your wounds with worry. “It’s nothing, love.” you say as you spread a wing to embrace her. She nuzzles up under your shoulder and leans on you. You can feel her breath against your scales. You can feel her heart beat with yours. It seamed as if you were truly one being, you combined wills gathered to strengthen your moral fiber for what was to come. You knew that this was just the beginning of the war, and it worried you. Ever since the beginning you and the other deities ruled together in peace and harmony. But now this demonic horde from the blackness of space had arrived, ready to claim your world with the horrors of war. Nothing could have prepared you for the sheer evil they brought in just a few weeks. But now you must remain strong. This is your first real victory, and your troops will use this as motivation to fight for the next victory. But even so, how many lives will this war claim before everything is said and done? You could only shudder at the estimations. “Everything is alright now.” Arthrena whispers. “Everything is okay.” She says. You say nothing. Nothing will be okay, not for a very long time. Perhaps not ever. But for now, you must hold moments like these close. Because you won’t have much of these moments for long. You close your eyes and feel the rain being to pour. And you feel it begin to wash the blood away from your scars, and collect with Arthrena’s blood into a puddle. Until it distils into nothingness. Nothing is the same anymore.