Deep in the dusky gaseous clouds of the Horsehead Nebula, there exists a lone planet known as Arcadia, home to a peculiar race of people called demons. Residing in secrecy for their entire existence, the many classes of demons are in constant confli...
Once upon a time, when demons had first been born with true souls and emotions, they were lost and hopeless in their new bodies. It was so hard for them to adapt from their original beast-like bodies to their new upright forms.
They were like orphaned children- they needed someone to guide them. They couldn't survive on their own.
One day, a large black goat with yellow eyes and twisted horns appeared to the demons. He had the mark of an upside-down pentagram upon his forehead. "You poor, pitiful creatures," he said. "You'll starve at this rate. Is there really no one left to help you? If you cannot live by your own will, then I shall help you. I will gift you with the instinct and guidance you need to survive. This name of mine is Black Phillip, and all of your descendants shall remember it forever."
Black Phillip became a thick haze like smoke, and he entered the body of each and every demon in Arcadia. Every demon born afterwards would be blessed with the gift of his knowledge and guidance. Black Phillip gave up his physical form to become the guiding spirit and instinct of the demon race. They would have never survived if not for his blessing. The collective instinct of demonkind was born through Black Phillip, and when his voice compels demons to act, they must obey. No matter what it is, or where they end up...the fate of every demon is guided by the steps of the black goat.
On wings of black ichor, I soared through the haze, piercing the clouds to reach the very top of Arcadia, the final ring, the end of the world itself- the Pride Ring. When I landed, my hooves touched freezing stone streets coated in a thin, slick layer of ice that could barely be seen. I took careful steps to not slip and fall on my ass. I spent a few moments taking in the entirety of the Pride Ring, soaking its image into my mind. For such a coveted place, I expected it to be an extravagant wonderland of exciting sights and sounds, bathed in luxuries comparable to the Greed Ring. But that didn't seem to be the case at all. If anything, it was the complete opposite.
It was a cold, desolate, mostly empty gothic city, with cobblestone streets and dark manors that towered above like looming beasts, as though they were looking down and silently judging me. A light dusting of snow seemed to fall endlessly. Snowflakes got caught in my hair, only to melt at the touch. Above all, it was quiet. Almost unnervingly so. How could the most powerful ring in Arcadia be so silent and barren? The demons here were dressed elegantly, but not in a flashy way, not like the demons of the Greed Ring. They were dressed like they were about to conduct important business at a meeting in one of the towering cathedrals littering the city. They did not acknowledge my presence, or anyone else's for that matter. They strode past with their eyes locked ahead, acting as though I were invisible, or I was such a lowly creature that I wasn't even worthy of them paying their attention to me. The demons seemed to be absorbed in their own worlds, lost in a realm of their own thoughts with only their bodies directing them forward.
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