Descending the steps of the ever-turning staircase of the afterlife, Reis felt her way down the dark and dangerous path; never had she seen and walked such a treacherous route; the walls were ridged by countless razor-sharp scales, biting into her hands as she probed the way to go by pushing against the stone either side of her. Only a speck of light lit the way from above—a dim star of brightness in the vast ocean of darkness, in a spiral road that led to a place no living being had ever visited. Often the road beneath would give way in a trap that would lead to certain death, a ghastly plunge into the netherworld unseen; her wings preventing her fall each time.

Wiping the cold sweat from her face, Reis felt the warmth of her blood, coming in trickles from her damaged palms; a welcome warmth in the coldness of the shadowed tunnel. Gritting her teeth together and restraining the agony of her ravaged hands, Reis continued along the path, swaying a little with each step, the searing pain and her exhaustion combining to create a most unpleasant sensation.

Hours, days…even weeks may have passed and I wouldn't know it. This…is nearly like my exile in the coal mines of Goland…dark, cold and unwelcome. My hands…my hands! They're dripping in blood, savaged by the sharp edges of those walls. I must go on…

Slay me, destroy me…just end this torture…just end my pain…

A distant red glow she could see, miles down below; the rim of the giant spiral staircase illuminated in a dull crimson reflection, dark crystalline growths spreading the sunset glare. Limping over to the edge, Reis peered down at the light below. A distant roar she could hear, as though of a lion roaring from some distance away, mixed with the thick bubbling of some viscous liquid.

I don't care about pain anymore…take me away from this…

Then you'd better move, don't you?

Leaping off the rock staircase, Reis dived directly towards the red glow, her wings tucked close to her back, plastered against the back of her metal breastplate; feeling the wind whistle in her ears, Reis felt a sense of freedom, weightlessness that she had never felt before. Spreading her arms outwards like wings, she dived faster and faster into the bowels of the deep, approaching the crimson glow.

Slowing down to a halt with a grand beat of her broad wings, Reis hovered above a narrow stone bridge suspended above a river of fire and molten rock; silently floating in the semi-darkness. Shielding her eyes from the intense heat and glow of the bubbling and rushing lava, she spied a few archaic demons traveling on the bridge.

So…the archaic demons, the servants of St. Ajora, the servants of the foulest creature in Ivalice that killed my Beowulf are here…this is promising indeed. If they are here, that means Beowulf should be here too.

Listening silently to their grunts and noises, amid the tumultuous blasts of the lava beneath, Reis slowly hovered closer towards them when a large shard of lava spurted out of the fiery river beneath. Beating furiously to avoid a grisly death at the hands of the blazing projectile, she stared on with apprehension as the archaic demons pointed at her and began stomping away towards one end of the bridge, as fast as they could.

They're probably going to call for reinforcements. I must silence them!

Swooping down onto the fleeing demons, dodging flecks of ember and hot ash, Reis unsheathed her right blade, plunging the point into the closest demon's back, turning her face aside as putrid black blood spurted copiously out of the wound. Kicking the corpse into the flames below, she summoned forth a wall of blazing flames in front of the remaining demons.

Turning around, the demons began to advance on Reis, their skeletal features sinister with contortion, their great clenched fists hard with bone. Lunging forward, Reis sought to plunge her blades in one's leathery flesh; only to have her shining swords seized by two hands. Her eyes widening in shock, Reis jerked the blades out of their hands—or rather, tried to. A stone-like fist drew back and slammed into her face like a piston, breaking her nose as the knuckles collided.

Stifling the horrible pain as she crashed down onto the hard stony floor by the impact of the strike, she rolled left and right, dodging the demons' slow but powerful blows. Blood was streaming down her face; her blades taken away, she had no option but to run. Pinching her nose with her left hand and fending away the demons' hands with lightning from the other, Reis dashed towards the other end of the bridge, drops of blood staining the rock floor as she ran.

Turning around, she shouted out thickly, 'Holy light, cleanse bloody impurity!'

A beam of intense light shimmered above the demons' heads, before a blazing chain of lightning and energy hailed down from above. Blades of electricity raked the rocks beneath their feet, sparks flying from all angles until it abruptly stopped.

Watching the cloud of smoke and dust clear from the impact zone, Reis' eyes widened in fear as the demons stood in the aftermath of the normally-devastating spell, completely unhurt in any way, shape or form. Staring at one of their gigantic, scale-covered hands, Reis spotted a vortex of darkness, growing in size; realising what it was, she ran for cover at the other end of the cavern.

It was too late. The spell obliterated the bridge middle section with an enormous blast, throwing Reis hard against the wall of the cavern. Slamming against the rock wall, she uttered a loud cry of pain, the razor edges of the rock face scratching her back as she fell down towards the flaming river beneath. Throwing her arm out desperately towards what remained of the bridge, she managed to cling onto it with one hand.

Dangling from the bridge, staring at the river of fire far down below, Reis felt greatly nauseated by the stench of the noxious gases bubbling from the viscous crimson mass beneath; swooning, she nearly lost her grip on the rock. Heaving her other hand over the edge of the bridge, scrabbling desperately at a non-existent handhold, she began to feel the tearing agony that was beginning to plague her arm; an arm that held the rest of her body from certain doom below. Digging her fingers into a crevice, she hoisted herself over the edge, slowly, painfully, her nails broken and shattered by the force of her own weight driven through them into the vice of rock. Bloody-fingered and disheveled, Reis leant weakly against the side of the tunnel at her end of the bridge, healing her broken nose with a touch of her fingers while whispering a light curative spell.

Those demons resist the power of the heavens. What more can I do against them?

They've taken my weapon.

My magic is useless against them.

Am I to perish here, this early and unable to get Beowulf back to Ivalice?

Burying her face in her blood-coated hands, she wept a cascade of tears, drops from her eyes vanishing in the dry and thirsty dust beneath. Sadness filled her bright eyes, a deep, dull, depressed tone within the usual dark blue circle, instead of the flaming fury that usually fueled the fiery brightness within.

I vowed to take Beowulf out of his misery and back into Ivalice…is it going to end here?

It's not going to help if you don't move, Reis.

What good is it if I go out there searching for him in this netherworld, of which the slightest idea of its shape I don't know?

You've seen the map of it before, Reis.

Alright, then what good is it if I go there and fight a demon without weapons?

You've got your fists and your wits. Stop bemoaning your current sufferings; there are people in here that suffer more than you ever will.

Stemming the flow of tears, Reis wandered further down the tunnel, crouching low, her breasts almost grazing the ground as she moved. Stealth was crucial now, not sheer combat power; her attacks were useless with a weapon, let alone without one. Being discovered would be suicide. Peering ahead at the gloomy darkness, she stealthily slinked around the corner, pressing herself close to the smooth black rock that now covered the walls. Listening to the quiet drip drip of the water leak above her head, Reis moved slowly onwards, towards the dim glow in front of her, almost lamp-like in the flickering semi-darkness.

The blazing glow of a furnace met her eyes as she ventured out onto the arcing ramp that led into the Forge of the Gods; she had read about it in one of the chronicles that she had read in Lionel's church; supposedly a legendary place where all the condemned would be sent for recreation in the next life.

'A grand, open cavern deep beneath the ground, glowing in molten steel and fiery flame, crowned in all the glory of the Underworld,' That seems to summarise just about all that I've read about this place.

Hearing the clanking of steel-shod boots ascending the sweeping road of the underworld, Reis dived behind the closest rock; peering over the jagged teeth of stone, she watched with wary eyes the procession of ultima demons; they must not see her if she is to stay alive.