Ruin.

Knowledge.

 Chapter 24: Knowledge::

“Typhateion.” The voice, disembodied and powerful, echoed in his mind as Marait led him deeper into the library. “What do you seek, my child?”

Trystan thought hard, forced to decide on the spot what he was really looking for. Part of his mind, if only the tiniest fragment, was urging him to seek a way to forget the girl, to re-embrace his demonic nature. The larger section, however, shoved that down and forced its’ words past frozen lips.

“I need a way to leave the World Below.” The giant orb, the manifestation of the daemon, blinked slowly, as if confused.

“Do not ask what you already know. A sacrifice of your blood grants you escape.” The eye turned, seemingly done conversing.

He watched it float away, tempted to let the conversation drop. He watched it stop when his feet refused to move, watched it turn slowly back toward him. “No, Typhateion.”

“Yes. Forever, Marait.”

The eye spun, blazing a deep, angry red. “It is nearly impossible. You must not try it, my son.”

The uncharacteristic emotion his closest mentor was showing really touched his newly awakened heart, but he couldn’t just give up on the love he’d been yearning for his entire life.

“I don’t belong here anymore, Marait. I’ve fallen in love.”

The manifestation blurred and the small, wrinkled demon who had conjured and controlled it emerged from the remaining smoke. He was small, four feet tall at most. The demon had wrinkled red skin, covered in patches of dark fur. The fur, because of Marait’s advanced age, was patchy and shedding profusely in places.

The Daemon was immortal, but he still aged. At over ten thousand years old, he was a horribly mummified looking man. The hardest temptation to deny, for him, was the fact that he didn’t necessarily have to look the way he did. As a Daemon, he could easily take the life force of lesser demons, sucking the years they would have lived into him. Deny it he did, though, because he was a rare type of demon; he was a caring demon.

“You can…love?” the alien word rolled harshly off of his forked tongue.

Trystan shrugged, not wanting to admit to the uncharacteristic weakness.

“Oh, my dear boy! I thought it would never happen.” The old man, the decrepit, rotting horns on his abnormally large head shaking and threatening to fall right off, seemed to shed years as he jigged around, jumping with joy.

“I will tell you, Typhateion.” His oldest friend sat down at a dusty, low to the ground table, disturbing a sleeping rat. The puff of smoke that resulted from its hurried escape closed around them, choking them both and halting all speech.

Clearing his throat of the debris, Marait began his tale of escape.

“The way is dangerous, dark and full of pure evil. The demons you know will seem as nothing in comparison. No demon has ever completed the journey, and Jesebel keeps the skins of those who attempt it stuck to the wall of her bedchamber as reminders.

First, you must make your way toward Tenach, the shadow city on the outskirts of Abadan’s kingdom. When you have reached it, find someone, anyone, who will take you to the Forest of Teeth. Pass through carefully and watch your every move, or it may be your last. This will be dangerous in itself. Some of demonkind do not like the way your brother runs their cities. If he wasn’t in the fourth tier, with direct ties to the third tier and even to the First, I do not think he would still be alive. As it is, they would most certainly want to make an example of you, the mongrel half human third tier demon.

The Forest is your next destination. This is a place in the realm of which very little is known. There is something in the Forest, something that consumes those unlucky enough to get caught. Few return from that Forest alive, and none have seen what lies inside. I, of course, know what demon lurks in the shadow of those burning trees. The Nyx are the dangers in that forest.

When you have passed through the Forest, you will reach a flat plain, the Demon’s Demise, leading to the Lake of Hands. Cross the plain during the day, and only during the day.

Enter the Lake once you have reached it. I know that it will be hard, but you must let the hands drag you down, deep underwater, to the lair of Jesebel, daemoness of Death.

The daemoness who lurks there feeds on the beating hearts of demons and humans alike. She can smell fresh blood a mile away. Passing her will be the most deadly, possibly fatal challenge you will face.

Enter her lair and make your way through her home, toward the highest tower. To get there, you will have to pass through every major room in her house. You will have to sneak through the kitchen, tiptoe past her bed as she slumbers, and traverse the deadly, trap infested dungeons. At the end of the dungeons there is a staircase, which leads to the tower. When bathed with blood, the window will become a portal, leading to Earth proper.”

“When does the Daemoness sleep?”

The decrepit Daemon shook his head sadly. “She only sleeps after a meal, Trystan.”

“I refuse to feed a relatively innocent demon to the likes of her. There must be another way.”

Marait reached out for a dusty tome, tapping a gnarled finger on the cover before flipping it open and doing the same to the page. “There is a legend. If the Daemoness is stabbed through the heart, she will sleep for twenty four hours, to the second. Trystan, it will be hard, but I believe it is possible. If you will not sacrifice a demon, this is what you must do.”

Trystan nodded, memorizing each detail as it was spoken. “Is that all? Where will I enter the human world?”

“That, my son, I cannot tell you. From the portal, you must make your own way back.” Marait sighed, knowing that Typhateion, who was like a son to the old man, was leaving forever.

“Good luck, my son,” he called to Trystan’s already receding form.

“Goodbye, father,” Trystan called back, casting one last glance at the closest thing he’d ever had to a father in his miserable life.