The Maw. That title inspired fear yet did not entirely capture the essence of the shattered, dismal realm. Wasteland of the Damned, a more apt description, for it was truly a wasteland. The broken, crumbling landmass floated over eternity and was slowly being eroded away by caustic energy.
For uncounted ages, Zovaal gazed upon the rot and ruin around him. It was all he could do at the top of the soaring tower that served as his prison.
Thick chains kept his body immobile, though in the beginning he had fought against them. He fought so fiercely back then that the chains and restraining shackles had dug into his flesh. Even now, his cobalt blood crusted his body and the metal. Knotted flesh showed the cuts of the past. Sometimes, he would strain against them if only to distract himself from the other pain he endured, for deep runes had been permanently carved into his flesh that subdued him and caused unending pain.
The true name of the Maw had long slipped from his memory, but he felt like it had been just as beautiful as the realm itself had been.
Now, the land was a dark mass of dust and rust. Jagged metal and scraps of other realms littered the land between the craggy outcropping of dark angular metallic chunks. These chunks of dark twisted metal that dotted the landscape were not always like that.
Crystals of the palest aquamarine, boldest halites and kyanites, the deepest sapphire, and other rare and exquisite crystals once grew in what is now the Maw. They had towered even over Zovaal and spread out branches like the trees of Ardenweald, glowing brightly with boundless amounts of anima. Yet now what remained of these crystals had died and shrank, their desolate remains warping into the harsh metal outcroppings. Heated magma that burned flesh and bone was once cool refreshing water that trickled throughout the land.
Instead of choking soul ash and harsh rock, ivory grass covered the land that once fed the docile, amicable creatures that inhabited the land. Only dark aggressive predators of shadow and bone wandered the wastelands, scouring for any wretched souls they could feast upon.
The souls who resided in this realm had not been wretches of the worst kind, but merely those who deserved blissful rest from the suffering and heartbreak that they had endured during their brief yet painful existences.
No longer did he judge all mortal souls and see all of their deeds and misdeeds in their life. He had been the one judged, and found wanting. Tossed into the darkest pit of the Shadowlands with the rest of the refuse and broken things. Now a cold, dispassionate thing did all of his work instead, never questioning or thinking about its duty as Arbiter of the Shadowlands. It just did what it was told.
Sometimes souls were considered so irredeemable that they were rejected as he had been and sent to the Maw as well. Over time the Maw's population grew, yet it was not a desirable one. The only souls Zovaal ever saw now were the most irredeemable, pathetic souls of existence. Nothing good lasted long in the Maw. Beautiful memories and pleasant emotions were stripped to the bone by the eroding nature of the realm and its inhabitants.
The heated rage he once felt had dimmed into a bitterly cold core of unbridled fury. It grew over the many eons that Zovaal endured in his chains.
Torghast, the Tower of the Damned, and Zovaal's own domain, had been designed to be his eternal prison. Creatures of metal magic had been created to torment the souls who ended up in this dark place. Once, they had tormented him.
Yet changes started to occur. It took ages, yet they decreased their harrowing of him. Some started to appear discomfited with their perpetual duties. Like he had. And as they changed, Zovaal began to plan.
One day he would break free of his chains. The wasteland known as the Maw would be no more. Perhaps it would have a new name. The metal would soften. Beautiful crystals would branch out once again and shower the Maw in light. The grass would grow again. All that had defied him would find their own realms darkened and cast into obscurity.