Disclaimer: I do not own any of the wonderful creatures created by Wizards
but all the named ones are mine, and some of the demons may be made up.
A/N: This is a fic based on an idea I had as a DM. Unfortunately I never got to play it out, so I thought I'd just write it down. Hope you like it. R&R please.
Prologue.
A swirling darkness encompassed everything his young eyes could see. But no, not young eyes; more like eyes that have seen their fair share of eternity, and have been blinded by something impossible to comprehend. But no matter, the darkness was warm and he was happy in its embrace. It was strong, secure, everything a child felt from its mother's arms, but something was missing; or something present that shouldn't have been. At that age though it was hard for him to discern what loss meant to him. But it was becoming more palpable by the second and as those seconds stretched into ages, the Darkness begun to change.
It begun to move differently; no longer a blanket of random shifting patterns over his senses, it begun to grow, then condense; though it did not shrink, it began to take on mass. A huge malevolent shape carried him, took him away from something. That something seemed so important to him then, like he would yearn for it, miss it with every fibre of his being; but he was on a journey and even to his young consciousness, the exciting prospect of a new destination was so material he could almost taste it. So he was content with his loss, and the prospect of filling the gap with something new and equally important.
Suddenly; though he had come to expect it by now, the Darkness changed once more. It was no longer dark as it had been, but filled with tiny pinpricks of light; shimmering like candles in the wind, shining like powerful torches, the light from which stung his eyes. It prepared his eyes though, for what came next. He was heading towards one of those lights; that had once seemed so far away, rising up now at breakneck speed. It seemed to be a group of these lights, spherical in fashion but revolving around a much larger, but much darker super sphere. He knew at that instant though, that no life energy resided in this sphere, but that knowledge; regardless of where it came from, meant nothing to him, so he disregarded it instantly, as this was not the sphere they seemed to be heading for.
They were hurtling towards the third light source from this dark centre point, the brightest in all the system, but by no means the largest. It did however flicker with more intensity than any of the others, obviously imbued with more life energy than any of the others, the rest even now losing the last of theirs to the darkness. As they neared the sphere though, its differences from the rest were striking. Tethered to it by some unseen anchor were a handful of smaller, less than coherent spheres, all occupying their own space, but some; every once in a age, bumped into it's neighbour as if interacting with each other, communicating, in some unspoken, unintelligible language. Residing over all of these was a free sphere, brighter than all but the main body, which orbited it, passing through all the other tethered spirits as it continued its endless journey.
It did not seem as if they would stop there though, but as they continued towards the main body, motion above them came to a standstill. The guardian kept circling and was far out of sight as the light began to encompass them, but the tethered spheres seemed to group in the fading Darkness, as if to watch where he would land. Suddenly, as blinding as the light had been before it, all the colours of spectrum flooded his vision, and he closed his eyes once more to the Darkness.
*********
"Goodbye young one, farewell." the stony but warm voice spoke to his ear; sound and words so alien to him, but somehow easily understandable.
"Hurry back Tymris." the child replied in his small insubstantial voice, but my words echoed against the bare white ceiling, there was no one there to listen, "I'm cold Tymris." he wrapped his soft black wings around himself like a cloak, feeling the tickling scratch of the razor sharp edges., as he tried to block out the crisp cold air. He felt alone now, in this bare white room, with its disinfected air and shiny vinyl floor. But as he searched his surroundings more, he noticed a breathing sound accompanying his own. There was a bed on the other side of the room from him, before a window, through which shone the brightest light he had ever seen; so bright in fact he shielded his eyes with his wing, to give them a chance to adjust. When they finally did, he looked closer at the bed and found a woman on it, facing away from him apparently unaware of his presence.
He walked over and as he hopped onto it a sad story unfolded before his eyes. The woman, snapped out of her seeming trance by his weight near her feet, looked at him in surprise. She was very beautiful, but tears ran down her face openly, tainting the portrait. He scanned over to where she had been looking and saw a hospital cot next to the bed.
'So that's where he's left me.' the child thought to no one in particular, but now that he looked harder he could see why she was so upset. In the cot lay a newborn baby, no different to himself, but with different coloured hair and no wings. The child though, no matter how innocent and peaceful it seemed was dead; had been for a while now, its life extinguished before it was even a day old. Looking at the woman he could tell the rest of the family didn't even know yet; they had all popped out for a bite to eat and give her time to sleep. She had known though, had known in her sleep; awoken by a nightmare to find real life not all that dissimilar. She knew that when she had woken up and looked at her son, he never would again.
"Hello Lady." he said waving his wing at her and smiling, hoping it would help. Whether it was disbelief or new warmth from his smile, he couldn't tell, but she stopped crying for a time and just stared at him, her bottom lip quivering. After a while she spoke to him.
"Are you. An Angel?" she asked him in a sad but harmonious voice, half sceptical, half choking back her last tears.
'What a silly question that is?' he thought to himself but did not voice it to her. He didn't want to upset her even further, so he nodded and smiled to her happy that there seemed to be some hope in her eyes now. But when he thought about it, the question didn't seem that silly; he did have wings after all and he knew that if he tried he could inhabit the empty space he could discern in the child's limp body. That would make her happy wouldn't it? If he filled the hole in the child's body; the hole in her life?
"Would you like me to be your son?" he asked in his musical voice, and even as he saw the smile form on her face he was sure she was going to cry again. He hopped off the bed, feeling her gaze follow him across the short expanse of floor to the cot. With a tiny flutter of his wings he perched on the side of the cot and smiled at her. With a wink he looked down at the body of the child and stroked its forehead. The last thing he heard were the faint sobs of his new mother as his world once again turned to Darkness.
*********
"It is done my master; the child is lost to her." Tymris heard his voice echo against the empty expanse of the void. Here he was normally completely at peace, but now, with the enormity of what he had just done weighing heavily on his wings he was very uneasy. So uneasy in fact that he never noticed the presence behind him until he felt the cold breath on his neck, like someone had stuck him with his own sword.
"Very good my loyal servant," came the voice like fountains of boiling water, burning his ears, "I find myself in awe of your skills once more. I mean who else could walk into the house of God himself and walk out with his son. Of course it was probably made easier by the fact that God is dead yes?" Tymris waited until his lord had finished before turning, as was his custom, when he regularly appeared upon his servants like this, it was considered bad etiquette to face him until he had finished. That is, if he allowed his servants to face him at all.
When he finally considered it time for him to turn he could not hold his surprise at the form his master now held. It was that of a young girl, barely into her teens but with flowing black hair that seemed to meld into his cloak and a body to old for her young face. The cloak was open showing the attributes of a well endowed young woman in her prime, but the face still betrayed a being eons old, the eyes the gateway to the sights he had seen.
"Does it please you Tymris? This form is considered very pleasing to human males after all." he was goading him Tymris knew that, which is why his lack of reply would also not surprise his master. His master of course knew of the reason he had been banished to this realm, knew of his love of humans to the point where he had raped and murdered one, far beyond his duties as the Angel of Death. He had in fact, now that Tymris looked hard enough, taken on the form of the girl he had once loved, before his defilement of her of course. But that no longer mattered; Tymris had far worse demons than she now.
"So what news then my faithful dog? What news of the queen? Does she still miss her king?" his master asked as a throne of bone and blood appeared out of nowhere behind him. He lounged back in it almost enjoying the contours of the bone against his nubile young frame. Tymris was ready now, 'down to business' as it were.
"She no longer looks for his killer sire. Though she still mourns him, she now looks only for her child; she will never believe he is dead." Tymris paused. He did not want to let on that he knew more of his master's plan than he should, but he was saved from his hesitance by his master's arrogance.
"No matter, she will never find him now. And even if she ever did, he is lost to the world of men and can never take my rightful place at our mother's side. All the pieces are in place Tymris, the game is begun." he mimicked his masters smile as his head fell back, but he could not hope to ever mimic his laughter; the sound of a thousand hearts breaking, the sound of a thousand swords slashing at his heart. But then he stopped and looked back at Tymris a new humour spreading across his lips.
"I have another task for you Tymris, think of it as a sub-plot to the big story if you will. I want you to tell all of my siblings, and my mother if she wants to know, that after all this time, I have picked a name," he let the last few words hang I the air like a cold clinging mist which sifted itself between Tymris' wings, making his skin feel clammy and dead. This was a great surprise to him, for as long as time itself, his master had gone without a name, feeling that a name would give the caller some power over him. If he had finally picked a name, it meant there was more to this game than Tymris had realised. He locked his master's gaze for a long time before finally plucking up the courage to ask the question he was waiting to hear.
"What sire is this name you have spent so long deliberating over?"
"It is in fact a human name, but of great power and evil. They have so many religions down there all built up around us, but in all they find a need to name the evil in all their hearts, thereby diffusing responsibility for their own actions," he continued, the smile on his face growing as his tongue tasted every word, like it was a fine wine, "My name my faithful Tymris. is Satan."
*********
A/N: This is a fic based on an idea I had as a DM. Unfortunately I never got to play it out, so I thought I'd just write it down. Hope you like it. R&R please.
Prologue.
A swirling darkness encompassed everything his young eyes could see. But no, not young eyes; more like eyes that have seen their fair share of eternity, and have been blinded by something impossible to comprehend. But no matter, the darkness was warm and he was happy in its embrace. It was strong, secure, everything a child felt from its mother's arms, but something was missing; or something present that shouldn't have been. At that age though it was hard for him to discern what loss meant to him. But it was becoming more palpable by the second and as those seconds stretched into ages, the Darkness begun to change.
It begun to move differently; no longer a blanket of random shifting patterns over his senses, it begun to grow, then condense; though it did not shrink, it began to take on mass. A huge malevolent shape carried him, took him away from something. That something seemed so important to him then, like he would yearn for it, miss it with every fibre of his being; but he was on a journey and even to his young consciousness, the exciting prospect of a new destination was so material he could almost taste it. So he was content with his loss, and the prospect of filling the gap with something new and equally important.
Suddenly; though he had come to expect it by now, the Darkness changed once more. It was no longer dark as it had been, but filled with tiny pinpricks of light; shimmering like candles in the wind, shining like powerful torches, the light from which stung his eyes. It prepared his eyes though, for what came next. He was heading towards one of those lights; that had once seemed so far away, rising up now at breakneck speed. It seemed to be a group of these lights, spherical in fashion but revolving around a much larger, but much darker super sphere. He knew at that instant though, that no life energy resided in this sphere, but that knowledge; regardless of where it came from, meant nothing to him, so he disregarded it instantly, as this was not the sphere they seemed to be heading for.
They were hurtling towards the third light source from this dark centre point, the brightest in all the system, but by no means the largest. It did however flicker with more intensity than any of the others, obviously imbued with more life energy than any of the others, the rest even now losing the last of theirs to the darkness. As they neared the sphere though, its differences from the rest were striking. Tethered to it by some unseen anchor were a handful of smaller, less than coherent spheres, all occupying their own space, but some; every once in a age, bumped into it's neighbour as if interacting with each other, communicating, in some unspoken, unintelligible language. Residing over all of these was a free sphere, brighter than all but the main body, which orbited it, passing through all the other tethered spirits as it continued its endless journey.
It did not seem as if they would stop there though, but as they continued towards the main body, motion above them came to a standstill. The guardian kept circling and was far out of sight as the light began to encompass them, but the tethered spheres seemed to group in the fading Darkness, as if to watch where he would land. Suddenly, as blinding as the light had been before it, all the colours of spectrum flooded his vision, and he closed his eyes once more to the Darkness.
*********
"Goodbye young one, farewell." the stony but warm voice spoke to his ear; sound and words so alien to him, but somehow easily understandable.
"Hurry back Tymris." the child replied in his small insubstantial voice, but my words echoed against the bare white ceiling, there was no one there to listen, "I'm cold Tymris." he wrapped his soft black wings around himself like a cloak, feeling the tickling scratch of the razor sharp edges., as he tried to block out the crisp cold air. He felt alone now, in this bare white room, with its disinfected air and shiny vinyl floor. But as he searched his surroundings more, he noticed a breathing sound accompanying his own. There was a bed on the other side of the room from him, before a window, through which shone the brightest light he had ever seen; so bright in fact he shielded his eyes with his wing, to give them a chance to adjust. When they finally did, he looked closer at the bed and found a woman on it, facing away from him apparently unaware of his presence.
He walked over and as he hopped onto it a sad story unfolded before his eyes. The woman, snapped out of her seeming trance by his weight near her feet, looked at him in surprise. She was very beautiful, but tears ran down her face openly, tainting the portrait. He scanned over to where she had been looking and saw a hospital cot next to the bed.
'So that's where he's left me.' the child thought to no one in particular, but now that he looked harder he could see why she was so upset. In the cot lay a newborn baby, no different to himself, but with different coloured hair and no wings. The child though, no matter how innocent and peaceful it seemed was dead; had been for a while now, its life extinguished before it was even a day old. Looking at the woman he could tell the rest of the family didn't even know yet; they had all popped out for a bite to eat and give her time to sleep. She had known though, had known in her sleep; awoken by a nightmare to find real life not all that dissimilar. She knew that when she had woken up and looked at her son, he never would again.
"Hello Lady." he said waving his wing at her and smiling, hoping it would help. Whether it was disbelief or new warmth from his smile, he couldn't tell, but she stopped crying for a time and just stared at him, her bottom lip quivering. After a while she spoke to him.
"Are you. An Angel?" she asked him in a sad but harmonious voice, half sceptical, half choking back her last tears.
'What a silly question that is?' he thought to himself but did not voice it to her. He didn't want to upset her even further, so he nodded and smiled to her happy that there seemed to be some hope in her eyes now. But when he thought about it, the question didn't seem that silly; he did have wings after all and he knew that if he tried he could inhabit the empty space he could discern in the child's limp body. That would make her happy wouldn't it? If he filled the hole in the child's body; the hole in her life?
"Would you like me to be your son?" he asked in his musical voice, and even as he saw the smile form on her face he was sure she was going to cry again. He hopped off the bed, feeling her gaze follow him across the short expanse of floor to the cot. With a tiny flutter of his wings he perched on the side of the cot and smiled at her. With a wink he looked down at the body of the child and stroked its forehead. The last thing he heard were the faint sobs of his new mother as his world once again turned to Darkness.
*********
"It is done my master; the child is lost to her." Tymris heard his voice echo against the empty expanse of the void. Here he was normally completely at peace, but now, with the enormity of what he had just done weighing heavily on his wings he was very uneasy. So uneasy in fact that he never noticed the presence behind him until he felt the cold breath on his neck, like someone had stuck him with his own sword.
"Very good my loyal servant," came the voice like fountains of boiling water, burning his ears, "I find myself in awe of your skills once more. I mean who else could walk into the house of God himself and walk out with his son. Of course it was probably made easier by the fact that God is dead yes?" Tymris waited until his lord had finished before turning, as was his custom, when he regularly appeared upon his servants like this, it was considered bad etiquette to face him until he had finished. That is, if he allowed his servants to face him at all.
When he finally considered it time for him to turn he could not hold his surprise at the form his master now held. It was that of a young girl, barely into her teens but with flowing black hair that seemed to meld into his cloak and a body to old for her young face. The cloak was open showing the attributes of a well endowed young woman in her prime, but the face still betrayed a being eons old, the eyes the gateway to the sights he had seen.
"Does it please you Tymris? This form is considered very pleasing to human males after all." he was goading him Tymris knew that, which is why his lack of reply would also not surprise his master. His master of course knew of the reason he had been banished to this realm, knew of his love of humans to the point where he had raped and murdered one, far beyond his duties as the Angel of Death. He had in fact, now that Tymris looked hard enough, taken on the form of the girl he had once loved, before his defilement of her of course. But that no longer mattered; Tymris had far worse demons than she now.
"So what news then my faithful dog? What news of the queen? Does she still miss her king?" his master asked as a throne of bone and blood appeared out of nowhere behind him. He lounged back in it almost enjoying the contours of the bone against his nubile young frame. Tymris was ready now, 'down to business' as it were.
"She no longer looks for his killer sire. Though she still mourns him, she now looks only for her child; she will never believe he is dead." Tymris paused. He did not want to let on that he knew more of his master's plan than he should, but he was saved from his hesitance by his master's arrogance.
"No matter, she will never find him now. And even if she ever did, he is lost to the world of men and can never take my rightful place at our mother's side. All the pieces are in place Tymris, the game is begun." he mimicked his masters smile as his head fell back, but he could not hope to ever mimic his laughter; the sound of a thousand hearts breaking, the sound of a thousand swords slashing at his heart. But then he stopped and looked back at Tymris a new humour spreading across his lips.
"I have another task for you Tymris, think of it as a sub-plot to the big story if you will. I want you to tell all of my siblings, and my mother if she wants to know, that after all this time, I have picked a name," he let the last few words hang I the air like a cold clinging mist which sifted itself between Tymris' wings, making his skin feel clammy and dead. This was a great surprise to him, for as long as time itself, his master had gone without a name, feeling that a name would give the caller some power over him. If he had finally picked a name, it meant there was more to this game than Tymris had realised. He locked his master's gaze for a long time before finally plucking up the courage to ask the question he was waiting to hear.
"What sire is this name you have spent so long deliberating over?"
"It is in fact a human name, but of great power and evil. They have so many religions down there all built up around us, but in all they find a need to name the evil in all their hearts, thereby diffusing responsibility for their own actions," he continued, the smile on his face growing as his tongue tasted every word, like it was a fine wine, "My name my faithful Tymris. is Satan."
*********