XXIII
Trigon the Ravager
He had committed all types of atrocities acknowledged by the sentient beings across the universe. He supposed he could now add fratricide and sororicide to that lengthy, lengthy list. Patricide and matricide had been among his very first accomplishments. He had absorbed the dark passions of a million worlds, fools who wished to free themselves of anger, hate, lust. And like Azarath, those passions had come back to take what was rightfully theirs.
Darkness always returned, time and time again.
From just beyond the Great Door, Trigon smiled as he watched his demon hoard slaughter the peace-loving Azarathians. The fools had power certainly, but no will to harm, to kill. They only ran – or accepted their fate. His demons ripped their way through Azarath in a chaotic wave of red destruction.
She had taken the name Arella, but he knew who she truly was. Angela Roth, mother of his only surviving child, Raven. He had toyed with Angela Roth as he had with so many of his other lowly conquests. Lust was only one of his many facets. He… supposed he should stop murdering his children (even if their crying annoyed him)… or perhaps prevent others from murdering them, but… who had saved him from such cruelty? He had wished that it could have been Raven slaughtering these moronic peace-lovers today, having embraced the hard lesson she learned from his own hands by the defiled body of her ridiculous mother. Would she enjoy it as he did?
There was always tomorrow, wasn't there?
His all-seeing eyes regarded Angela Roth. She had fought hard to save her fellow adopted citizens and now she fought to save herself - but her end was near. His demon hoards would overwhelm her soon enough, but still she fought with powers the Azarathians had deemed unworthy, dangerous. She had gained magic during the last twenty years! Trigon felt himself stir a little. Should he save her so that she could die tomorrow by his hand?... No, let the lads have their fun.
Trigon watched as Arella suddenly - stopped.
Had she accepted her fate? Fallen to utter defeat? Would she beg for her life and give him whatever he desired? Even the demons seemed to ponder this question as they stood still before her in murderous anticipation. And then, in a black plume of smoke, she disappeared... Could she plane-walk like his daughter? Had she grown this powerful?!
No matter.
He knew where she would be. Like any good mother, she would be with her daughter. It was noble that she wished to die by his hand. And he had thought long-and-hard on the manner of her death and the gruesome lesson it would provide his daughter. Perhaps the lads might be so kind as to retrieve a few corpses so he could re-enact it for them again. They did like a good show.
Getting to Earth would not be easy though... That dimension's soul barrier was incredibly strong. To travel to the blue planet at full strength, he would need an equal number of souls exiting as he was entering. He had collected so many souls over the past centuries that he needed a very large door when passing through dimensional soul barriers.
Luckily, he already had someone on the other side…