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Diablo: Jungle of Shadow

Chapter 2: Fire

"I'm sorry Passanius...but I don't think your sons are coming back."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"I think you may need reminding."

Passanius didn't know what irritated him more. That Seth and Felix were missing, that he couldn't come to terms with that, or that Claudius was the one to remind him of this. A thin man with an even thinner moustache, the convoy's leader hadn't expected the twenty-something year-old to be the one to speak for the convoy, to express their desire to get even closer to Seram. But still, he hadn't expected to lose both his sons in the space of a few hours. And in that regard...as a father, that was what certainly irritated him the most.

"Seth hasn't been gone that long..." the old man murmured, refusing to face his younger counterpart. "Give him time."

"He's been gone for hours. And what's his chance of even finding Felix?"

"Not as great as the chance of me ramming this through your gut..." the elderly trader murmured, fingering a spear that had been obtained in Kurast. "But still high."

Claudius remained undeterred, though how much of that could be attributed to individual courage rather than the presence of the mob, Passanius didn't know.

"Not high enough for us," Claudius said firmly. "Not high enough for them either. Not with what lurks in the jungle's shadows. The same creatures you pointed out to your son when trying to keep him under your wing."

Passanius gripped his spear tighter. "Eavesdropping, Claudius? That's a bit-..."

"Passanius, we all heard it," ventured one of the traders. "We heard you try to keep Seth, to keep your own son rather than risk losing him. You wouldn't search for him then. So don't expect us to search for him now."

Passanius hated it when his words were turned against him. He hated it even more when those uttering them were right. He'd told Seth that he couldn't risk his men's lives for his son. So now there was no way they'd be willing to do what he refused to. Families, loved ones...they always took priority, and these men's families were waiting for them far to the south. Right now, beneath the shadowed trees, could he ask them to do what he'd refused to earlier?

He couldn't. And in a way, that was a small comfort to him. Felix the dreamer, Felix his mother's son, Felix the weakling as opposed to strong Seth...right now, torn between emotion and reality, Felix had become just as important as his older brother.

It might have been a more comforting revelation had there been a stronger chance of being able to convey that.

"Well, Passanius?" Claudius asked. "What are your orders? Risk our lives? Or cut your losses?"

"We're talking about my children..."

"And we're talking about ours!" yelled Brutus-recently married, and expecting a child of his own if he remembered correctly. "None of us our children here, Passanius! But while yours are probably burning in Hell right now, ours are..."

Claudius held up a hand, which was just as well. Family love was one thing. So was devotion to the Light. But suggesting the fate of damnation? Passanius wasn't particularly religious, even with all these tales of the evils gripping the East, but even so...

"Brutus, I hope for your sake that you never know what Hell truly is..." the old man whispered. "But I do. And that's why I'm going to give the following orders..."

And he gave them.

And his men were satisfied.


A knight in shining armour. A hero. A source of aspiration to young boys, whilst serving as one of fantasy to young girls. Clad in armour, bar his handsome face. His horse, likewise protected, but able to move with beautiful grace. The head of a foul beast in one hand while a fair damsel clutches his waist in fawning admiration. A champion of justice. A champion of the Light. Making his way through the Torajan Jungles to find and rescue a young boy from evil.

Making his way through said jungle, Seth had such an image in his mind. And he couldn't help but reflect on the absurdity of it all. Firstly, such knights were few and far between, especially in a land where it was far more common to rely on mercenaries for the protection of city and country. Secondly, any such knight in this climate would probably perish from heat-stroke in this climate, and his horse would likely follow. Thirdly, as with the mercenary paradigm, he'd sooner carry a bag of gold than a beast's head and if a damsel was with him...well, he hoped for her sake that it was mutual. Both then, and for what would inevitably come afterwards.

In essence, the entire image was due to his interactions with sell swords in Kurast, promoting an image that was as insubstantial as magic. Yet as he made his way through the jungles, his tunic drenched with sweat, he couldn't help but be reminded of it, if only for the presence of the sword at his side. In his haste to arm himself with a weapon before beginning his search for his brother, he'd forgotten to take a belt to let it dangle, or even a scabbard for the blade. The result was that he was forced to carry the damn thing alongside him, and while he'd had some idle fun cutting aside ferns for the sake of it, a few hours of walking with heavy metal had taken its toll. For all the talk of the dangers of the Torajan Jungles and the supposed evil presence that had gripped the lands of the East, the son of Passanius had yet to see any evidence of this. And given the knight image that kept popping into his mind, he wouldn't have been surprised if the tales of demons and monsters running amok had been spread by the very people who could be paid to fight them.

If it wasn't for Felix, he might have headed back to the convoy then and there. But Felix wasn't with him. And right now, as he sat down on a moss covered log, desperately wishing he'd taken a waterskin with him, he was beginning to think that perhaps it would have been wiser to plan his search from the start rather than search blindly.

Blame the mercenaries...the young man told himself, the need for that water becoming more and more pressing. Only logical thing to do...

Well, the only logical thing bar actually planning his search. Or taking a belt and scabbard. Or packing some water. Or...well, no doubt something else that he'd missed. As he reflected on his oversights, Seth wondered why he hadn't thought about them until now. The past few hours, searching on instinct and conscience alone...only now had his search of...'righteousness' worn off.

Wish my thirst would wear off as well...

But it wasn't. His need for water was as apparent as the dirty water soaking his tunic. Water that seemed to be leaving it, given the chills he was beginning to feel.

But...that would mean the air would be drier...Seth reflected, feeling his tunic to see how quickly the evaporation was occurring. But why here?

He could have been wrong of course. But the East was full of scholars who studied matters from the arcane to the mundane, and being the 'man with a bright future' that he was, he at least understood what one scholar had referred to as the water cycle. But right now, in this secluded, strangely dark corner of the jungle, the cycle was being broken. As was the sun's beams, apparently...

Seth grasped his sword as he rose to his feet, experiencing chills for reasons other than losing water to the air. The sun, once high in the sky and at its brightest, now seemed like a distant star, barely visible through the jungle's canopy. The vegetation...so...close...and cluttered...as if it was consciously closing in on him. And the air...it wasn't just dry. It was...oppressive...and hard to breathe. And while the son of Passanius didn't lose his cool, the breaths he was taking certainly didn't help matters.

Sure could use some mercenaries now...heck, I'd even pay them...

Nothing and no-one can help you...accept that...

Seth spun around, his breathing like a winded cow, his eyes like an aggravated ram. The voice...in his mind, but originating from outside it. And unlike his conscience, malignant. Hostile. Even frightening.

Show yourself...Seth thought, feeling foolish for engaging in a mind game, but also feeling that vocal words weren't needed at this point. I'm not afraid...

A poor lie from a poor mortal who's so far turning out to be an even poorer adversary. Pitiful. Like the rest of the inhabitants of this world.

As malignant, as...intrusive as the voice was, it was the word "mortal" that unsettled Seth the most. Mortal...as opposed to what? Immortality? Who...or what possessed such a thing?

The teachings of the Zakarum might have the answer. And Seth didn't like the possibilities those teachings presented...

This is ridiculous...the voice continued, almost sounding like Passanius on one of his bad days. First the worm from last night, now you...by the Void, I'm actually using your-...

"Felix?" Seth exclaimed, the mental games forgotten. "Where is he? What have you-..."

Silence!

And the man fell silent. From those words alone. But if he had anything else to say, the ability to say it was instantly lost. The air grew warmer, his fear became more intense, and as the...thing emerged from the shadows, that fear instantly became outright terror.

Your terror...it feeds me...more...more!

Seth couldn't help it. Dropping his sword, falling to his knees, the welling desire to cast himself to the mercy of Heaven if it might let him escape the horror of the mortal realm...anything to avoid the being before him. A being of nothing but fire, yet the jungle remaining untouched by the inferno. No natural inferno then. Then again, there was nothing natural about this whatsoever.

Beg to me...the being sneered. Cast yourself before me...serve me...as I serve the true masters of Hell...

Seth wished the creature had eyes. If it did, he might have been able to meet them in defiance, as pitiful a gesture that would have been right now when his own were clouded by tears of terror, turned into gas instantly by the heat before him. This creature...it didn't even have a physical form. Four to five metres tall and half as wide, it wasn't so much a being surrounded by fire, but one of fire itself. No sword, axe or bow could prevail against such a monster. And as the creature slowly made its way towards him, as he watched his sword be consumed by the blaze while the fallen leaves of the jungle remained untouched, he was only reminded of such a fact.

And you never even used your blade...the inferno sneered. Pitiful.

Seth looked up at the area where a head would have been. The fear was still there, but such insults...they were too like the words he got from his father for his liking. And yet the creature had a point-he'd never even tried to use his blade. As gripping as the terror was, the shame was beginning to quickly catch up, along with his instinct to survive. Mortal and frail he might be, but that still had a few advantages over a demon...he hoped.

As he rose to his feet, his legs nearly buckling under his fear the entire time, Seth supposed he'd find out.

Oh? the fire cackled. You stand? How pleasant. And unexpected.

Seth did stand. Fighting the fear, fighting the terror, it was all he could do right now.

Well? the demon asked. Will you fight me? Join me? Or shall I just consume your flesh as I do your terror?

For a moment, it struck Seth as odd that the being would hold out so long. "Consuming terror..." whatever that meant. But then again, the whole situation was odd. And as he steadied his breathing, as he remembered Felix, it was time to make this situation a bit less odd by doing the only logical thing.

Run. Run like hell.

Run like hell...away from Hell itself.

And hope that the fiery roar behind him wasn't indicative of being pursued.


The being was concerned.

A risk had been taken, the being knew that. The pact between Heaven and Hell in regards to Sanctuary was crystal clear, and for all the misery the banishment of the Prime Evils had inflicted on it, they technically hadn't violated that pact. Some among the being's kind couldn't care, or thought that Man had to prove himself worthy of Heaven's aid. Some thought that Man should be eradicated for the risk they presented. Or, as the being had demonstrated, some thought that it was wrong to simply stand aside as the Burning Hells ran amok, the laws of the Sin War be damned.

And the being hadn't technically violated them. Yaerius had first brought word of the Light to Men, leading to the founding of the Zakarum. Speaking to the mortal in this realm wasn't too different, all things considered. Or perhaps not all things, as it was clear that he was no Akarat, and that if he had any potential to take a place amongst the servants of Order, it had yet to be realized. And if the monster known as Zagan had his way, it never would.

How...disappointing.

No. More than disappointing. Disgusting. The minions of Hell running amok in the mortal realm and Heaven was perfectly willing to stand by.

There were some amongst the warriors of Order who might go even further, being labelled as mavericks at best or heretics at worst. The being...didn't know if it was possible to go down such a road. But the servant of the Light would do what was possible. If Zagan's fire was to continue to spread...

...Maybe something similar to fire would be used against it.


Seth now knew what it felt like to be a mouse.

In his infancy, before his mother and dozens of others had succumbed to plague, he'd been the brief owner of a cat. Specifically a feral one that he'd done his best to hide from the family. The animal was perfectly willing to eat the pieces of meat he was able to smuggle out to its hiding place in their old barn, but as he'd watched the creature chase after a field mouse, it was clear that it was perfectly capable of seeking its own prey. An animal simply following its instincts to consume. And in its case, toy with its prey before devouring it. It was the same incident that alerted his mother to the feline's presence. And so taken aback by the display of what Men would regard as cruelty, he hadn't bothered to argue at the time.

Right now, Seth was the mouse. And this...thing pursuing him was more sadistic than that cat ever could be.

Faster...faster! the demon shouted in his mind, yet with the volume of a whisper. Give me sport! Give me substance! Give me anything!

Go to Hell, Seth thought, but without conviction. They were already there.

Faster...faster...

And the son of Passanius did run faster. His lungs burning with the fire of the mortal plane, his brow slick with the sweat of fear, his eyes as wide as those of Heaven, apparently content to let such things exist in the world...all he could do was run. Run like the scared mouse he was, knowing full well that the predator behind him was merely toying with its prey.

Was this how the mouse had felt, all those years ago? Or was it unaware of its fate, thinking it had a chance of survival? Such was the burden of intelligence.

Intelligent enough to glance back at the demon, noticing that its fire still left the jungle untouched. Yet damage had still been done, with many of the trees having had branches torn off or been outright knocked over. Almost as if something physical had-...

Fear...terror...it feeds me...it feeds me!

Letting out a gasp of fear and exhaustion, Seth tumbled to the ground, face first into muddy leaves. Trembling, yet managing to glance back at his pursuer, the young man knew that was the least of his problems.

Well...that was fulfilling...sort of...the demon sneered, his inferno of heat and hatred washing over the mortal. But I've taken my share. My master will want the rest.

"M...master?" Seth stammered, so taken aback by these words that he forgot that they were unneeded. "What do you-..."

Your understanding isn't required, only your death.

Seth had been afraid of that. Not nearly as afraid as he watched the unholy fire move to envelop him, but afraid nonetheless. Yet it was becoming hard to judge. As the fire reached out for him, fear was all he knew. Closing his eyes, unable to utter even the most basic of prayers, he waited for the heat to engulf him...and waited...and waited...

No...no...not again!

And opening his eyes, he stopped waiting.

It happened quickly. But from what Seth briefly saw, white light had enveloped him and everything he could see. It was...surreal. Peaceful even. And as he felt his terror leave him, it was most welcome. In fact, as the light filled his vision, then left it, the only unpleasant part was the ending.

Son of a...

Seth grasped for a lifeline, and only at the last second reached it. He didn't know what the light had done, or what the demon meant by "not again." Heck, he didn't even know where he was bar still being in the Torajan Jungles. But he did know that he'd somehow landed in a tree, and by only grasping onto one of its upper branches was he able to defy gravity's murderous intentions.

First demons, then the natural laws of the world...what's next?

"Seth?" asked a timid voice. "Is that you?"

And finding its source, Seth found out what "next" actually entailed.