Cole To The Infinite Power

Chapter One: In The Beginning

By: Alchemystik

Everything has a beginning, a middle and an end; my story is no different from countless others, except that most people don't have the ability to move from place to place in a puff of black smoke. Nor can the average man on the street fling fireballs at an adversary, though I'm sure many a businessman wishes he could.

I was born, I lived and I died. Well, I died as well as one of my kind can. My name is Cole Turner, a.k.a. Belthazor, formerly known as The Source of all Evil. One half human, one half Upper Level Demon, a feared mercenary, one of the most powerful beings to ever have walked the face of this planet. Ruthless, dispassionate and evil. Cursed with the most bothersome of all human frailties...

A soul.

Why cursed? Because with a soul also comes a conscience, and in my business a conscience is a pain in the ass, to put it bluntly.

Walk along the well-trodden paths of my life and learn all about me, but be warned; such a walk is not for the faint-hearted. Do not catagorize me or attempt to explain me; above all, do not judge me.

At least until you have heard the unvarnished truth straight from the horse's proverbial mouth. That would be me.

In fact, judge not, unless you are prepared to walk a mile in my shoes. By the time you're finished, I doubt very much you'll have the strength to utter a single word either for me or against me.

This is my life.

This is my story.

I remember little of my father except the reports of his business ventures, his courtesy towards other and his kindness to those less fortunate.

Do-gooders.

I do remember my mother, though. Beautiful, wanton, hot-tempered and powerful, my mother made three mistakes; mistakes that cost her dearly.

She failed to kill my father as ordered.

She gave birth to a " half-breed "...me.

And, she failed to fulfill her Life Assignment.

A Life Assigment is just that. An important mission all Upper Level demons must complete within their lifetime. If you fail...

You no longer have a life. Simple, isn't it?

Try it sometime if you think it's so easy.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Mother killed father, although I didn't learn the circumstances nor the reasoning until I was much older. I was a mere toddler when that occured, and Mother and I lived a rather nomadic life after that. We moved around frequently, but we always seemed to lived well, if not opulently.

You see, Mother, to coin the proverbial phrase, was always dependent on the kindness of strangers. Male type strangers, drawn to her blazing beauty, air of menace and dark carnality.

You want me to put it simply? Mom was a woman of the..er..rather loose type. Simplier than that?

Gorgeous, well-bred, arrogant and aristocratic, with the morals of a hamster. I learned more about that later, too.

A time came when suddenly, I was alone. I awoke to dark and silence one night, and in an instant, my life changed forever.

We lived in an expansive and expensive hotel suite in downtown San Francisco, and I was used to waking in the middle of the night to the sounds of laugher, clinking glassware and whispers of passion. So used to it, then when it abruptedly ended, I was awake in an instant. Awake, and frightened.

I knew what Mother was, what I was. The first time I became angry and formed a fireball, I was four years old. Ok, it was a pathetic fireball, and all the damage it did was to my own hands, but I was not only amazed, but disturbingly proud when THAT happened. So was Mother, but she sat me down and cautioned me about scaring the " straights. " It was to be our little secret, and she promised that when I was seven, she'd begin my formal education, teach me all I needed to know about being a demon. An Upper Level demon. One of the few, the proud, the elite.

My education did indeed begin at around seven years, but not in quite the same way that I had envisioned it.

I awoke abruptly as the sound of merriment died away, and a muffled scream of anquish filled the air.

And, then...

Silence.

I threw back the covers, leapt to my feet and ran smack into the largest, meanest looking man I had ever seen. I stared up in awe and terror, as he brushed his expensive looking black robe in distaste, and glared down at me.

" And who might you be? " He asked in a rasping voice, a look of loathing on his pock marked and lined face.

" I'm..I'm..Cole..." I stuttered, backing away from the fearsome looking gent. He reached out a meaty hand, grabbed the collar of my nightshirt, and lifted me up until our faces were level.

" You are mine, now. " He growled, then flung me from him in anger and disgust.

The man had scared the pee right out of me...literally.

And that, dear friends, was my introduction to Raynor. My teacher, my mentor...

My friend.

The only Father I ever knew.

After I was cleaned up, I was taken by the scruff of the neck and teleported instantly to a cavern of rock, brightly lit by a roaring fire and a multitude of candles.

Raynor set me on my feet and stood by, watching me absorb the sights and sounds of my new world.

This was the Underground, the Realm of Darkness, the seat of evil power. A huge cavern of rock and stone, but everything we needed for survival and learning were there. Dormitories for sleeping, a dining hall, classrooms, a music room, potions and spells laboratory...

A dark wonderland for a demon child.

Children both younger and older than me hurried by in pairs or groups, chatting and jostling each other. They were all attired in identical robes, the color being the only difference. I noticed that the older, stronger boys were wearing a color so dark it could almost be mistaken for black, while all shades of greys, from pearl to charcol were represented.

" You earn your dark colors here, Turner. " Raynor told me, and held his hand out.

I wasn't quite sure what it was he wanted, but when a older boy appeared, bearing a robe of silver grey in his hands, I knew that my black velvet cloak with the glistening jet mink trim was going to disappear. I had no right to wear black here. I had to earn it.

I was confused, exhausted, scared and shaking...

I had never been happier in my entire short life...

There was no time to wonder about Mother's abrupt disappearence, as I plunged into my new life. There were lessons and practicums, intense sessions of study, enlivened by physical conditioning and hand-to-hand combat. I did as I was told, kept to myself and absorbed all this new world had to offer. I was among my own kind for the first time in my short existence.

I had been in the Proving Grounds for approximately six months when I had my first one-on-one session with Raynor.

I had just begun to write out the answers to my homework assignment on basic spell components when I was seized by the neck and dragged into a private room.

Raynor dropped me in the middle of the stone floor and stumped over to a large chair with a footstool that was placed next to a small table. He had recently received a rather nasty bite from a Chimera, and was having to use a cane to get around. Chimera bites were notoriously difficult to heal and the pain never quite went away. Just what a demon with a short fuse needed.

He sat down with a grunt and hoisted his swollen leg onto the stool. He waited as I scrambled to my feet and looked rather amused as I brushed the dust off of my robe.

" How are you getting along, Turner? " Raynor asked in his deep, raspy voice. Ages are hard to gauge in the demonic world, as we do not show our years like humans do. A one hundred year old demon could look as young as thirty human years, depending on his status and experience.

Raynor was gray and grizzled looking, his face marked by scars and wrinkles alike. His bushy brows formed a hairy shelf underneath which cold green eyes glittered. His hairline was receding, and he looked like a man who had lived about sixty five Earth years.

Which probably meant he was approximately two hundred and fifty to three hundred demonic years old.

A glare made me realize I hadn't answered his query, and I snapped to attention.

" I'm doing well, Sir. " I answered, and flinched as the cane crashed down on the top of my head.

" You don't call me Sir! I am your mentor, your savior! You refer to me as Master! "

I struggled to control the tears of pain and humiliation that welled up in my eyes. I bowed my head and whispered, " Yes, Master. "

The blow caught me on the cheek this time, knocking me sideways...

" You stand up straight at all times! Head held high, you bow to no one except our Lord! You are one of the Elite, and Upper Level Demon! Remember that! "

I nodded mutely and did as I was told. I was unaware that my features had hardened into a look of outrage and embarrassment, but Raynor saw it...

And was pleased.

" You have much to overcome, Turner! You need to always work harder, be better than the rest! You must try daily to atone for your weakness! "

My weakness? I was the elite, yet I was weak..I risked aonther blow to ask for clarification.

Raynor raised the cane halfway, then looked closer at me. His bushy brows nearly disappeared into his shaggy gray hair..

" You're serious, aren't you? Ah...Elizabeth hadn't started your training yet, had she? No matter, that's what you have me for. You may stand here by my side, while I attempt to explain. "

I moved to where he indicated, and he reached over to pick up an old book that was laying on the table.

" As I said, you are an Upper Level demon, one of the Elite. Any demon can reach the upper level, but very few are born to it. Even fewer are from a breeding between a demon and another human-like creature. "

He opened the book and began to show my various pictures and text about demon/warlock pairings, demon/wizard and a peculiar mating between a demon and a dragon...

" Now there was an unusual child! Smart as a whip she was, but quite a danger when she was angered. Tended to breathe fire all over the place! Ha! "

I listened further, wondering about other human/demon mixes, but after a while Raynor closed the book.

" With your humaness comes weaknesses. You have a soul, and no, don't ask me to explain it! You'll learn as time goes on. Take the book, read it at your leisure. Study hard, we'll be meeting weekly from now on. "

The book was shoved in my hands and I was unceremoniously ejected from the room.

I hugged the book to my chest and made my way back to the study table. I was powerful, yet weak, Elite, yet flawed.

Why?

What did it mean to be this way?