I have tried to do as you asked of me all of those ages ago, I have given him every chance, allowed him to make every free choice that I dared offer him. He will not change, not for you and most certainly not for me. I am sorry my friend, truly I am. But the kind hearted soul you knew is gone from this world, leaving only madness behind.

~Malithion

/ / / The deepest pits of Tartarus / / /

“You think the only truth that matters, is that truth can be measured. That good intentions no longer hold light, that what dwells now within your heart lies bereft of purity. You believe there is no longer a purpose, even the lives you once saved you readily dismiss...”

This was eventually followed by a bout of shrill laughter, the sound originating from a dense bundle of chains hanging from the rocky ceiling, their anchor points lost high above in the inky gloom of the crypt. “Her own words, Doc, every one of them,” the enchanted steel clinked as their occupant shifted position. His movements elicited dull pings as the tension on the links shifted with him, groans of protest echoing into the dark.

“I actually followed your advice. I admitted that I was miserable and how now I am angrier than ever and, and how it is tearing me apart.” The stress on the chains eased as the obscured creature within their grasp relaxed, a pair of beady little eyes were all that could be seen as they scanned along the walls. The orbs cast a dull amber glow that easily pierced the gloom. The chamber was meager in size when compared to most of Tartarus, having the containment of a single individual in mind, versus mass imprisonment as with the remainder of the great labyrinth.

“But then, it hit me, the real reason. It was so obvious, Doc. We have been staring at each other for so long and I have been either too blind or too distracted by pure ambition.”

A torrent of gleeful giggling spilled from the mass of chains, shaking the half ton of dead weight despite the diminutive stature their captive sported, groaning and straining as if a tremendous load stressed every link nearly to its limit. “Truth,” another mirthful chuckle. “Deny it all I want, the hag was right,” an exasperated groan filled the chamber, its tone irritated but resigned. “The truth is, I feel nothing. I am, empty. Betrayed, I suppose, but nothing else. There is no anger, no sorrow, not even any fear left. There is only cold, an empty void where a soul used to be. That is all that I have left, nothing, not even contempt for those who made me this way. Time and Fate have taken even that.”

The glow faded away with those words, plunging the sealed cell back into its typical chilled blackness, a thick unnatural dark that consumed any source of light to be found. That is, until the prisoner spoke once more, eyes searching out the farthest reaches of the gloom and illuminating what lay within.

“That is why I like being alone, or, at least I convinced myself I am better off that way. It would be pure satire to claim anything else.”

Not bothering with a response the other being in the room simply opted to wait for the patient to continue, be it he was overcome with empathy or merely wished to hear more of the story before making suggestions, remained unclear.

“I think, I think that I may finally have reached a point where I can at least begin to comprehend why things happened the way they did. Not that it matters, none of that matters now,” the prisoner shifted again. The motion earned a series of pings that traveled up the mass of chains and into the darkness above. “Soon, this will all be over. It will all end,” he fell silent then. An occasional muttering the only sound to come from the hanging ball of magical metal for several minutes.

“I suppose that is why I agreed to this meeting, I just thought you deserved some kind of recognition for all you have done. Even if it does not show, you have helped me, Doc. So, thank-,” another small series of quiet chuckles erupted from the captive creature. The noise echoed off the walls, followed swiftly by the sounds of a few links surpassing their limits, stretched until they snapped like rotten twine.

“Still can’t say that one with a straight face,” the prisoner gasped out as his laughter died away. He watched closely as the damaged chains knit themselves back together, the enchantments placed upon the metal repairing the damage in mere moments. “Cheeky underworld swill, what could possibly have possessed them to construct soul chains of such quality for this place?” With a slight tug the chains drew themselves ever tighter, increasing the already crushing pressure upon their charge. “Bugger, not as if the old goat was ever that dangerous,” he glanced again to the far corner, eyes landing on the still form of his only companion. “Well, not recently, at least.”

An awkward silence fell over the room, minutes turning into hours as two sets of dead eyes simply stared back at one another. Eventually, with a heavy sigh, the prisoner hung his head. “Cripes this is boring! I can’t just hang here for another,” the prisoner paused for but a moment, as a mind more ancient than the very walls considered the numbers. “Two more years! How do you do it you old goat?!” His gaze once more traveled over the bleached skeleton strewn across the floor beside him. The cell’s original occupant…

As expected the decaying remains offered no reply, not that it mattered to the mad little captive. “Wow, that’s rough buddy, hang in there,” another fit of laughter passed between a set of thin pressed lips. A subtle glimmer of light flashed off rows of sharp dagger like teeth. “Oh, heh, dead, that’s right. Almost forgot why I came down here in the first place.” With a quick flex of his neck a loud crack split the air as another few links of chain snapped like string, the fragments breaking away and embedding themselves into the walls of solid stone. “Well, it would seem mission accomplished, then. Too bad, I could use some vacation time, getting tired of being history’s janitor.”

The sound of wrenching metal filled the room as the creature casually freed an arm, the tiny limb reaching up to the owner’s face and promptly scratching at an itch. “Shame, haven’t been here for awhile, was beginning to enjoy myself. Not running off on some damned fool errand every half decade. Depressing, that’s what that is,” the arm fell limp, its job handled.

A distant rumble echoed down from the massive chambers above, the ancient rock vibrating as minute tremors found their way through the structure. Cold chills ran down the creature’s spine, tingling every fiber of his being with a power most familiar, a power, that had rivaled his own on a good day. A presence not felt for a very long time.

His little game instantly forgotten the inmate jolted bolt upright on instinct, accidentally wrenching a few of his bonds from the rock securing them in place. The severed lengths of magically conjured chain shattered instantly as the magic sustaining them was forced from existence, the pulverized remains blowing away like dust in a breeze as they fell. “That cold blooded fire breathing son of a bitch! He actually did it!” The clinking of the chains grew louder in the still air as he squirmed with excitement. “Hot damn!”

A buzzing electrical thrum filled the darkness as magical power began to surround the seemingly shackled being, what little exposed skin that could be seen beginning to glow red with heat. Steam rose from both himself and the chains as the temperature grew rapidly, the air shimmering with energy. At first the magic infusing the bonds resisted, ancient wards and spells of old reacted to the destruction wrought upon them, their power flaring brightly in the dark. Only to be blasted to ash seconds later by a terrible will, a force that moved with vicious efficiency. Cold and calculating as it burned away anything that stood against it, overbearing complex systems designed to drain a captive of all magic.

Within seconds the chains that once held Grogar, necromancer of Tambelon, were reduced to little more than molten slag that simply faded from existence moments later. When the destruction was over all that remained was a charred circle etched into the stone floor, and at its center, stood the most unlikely of creatures, a newt. Standing at little more than ankle height one would hardly credit this minuscule being with the shadowy sense of foreboding that seemed to consume the room. How could they?

Taking a moment to wipe away a stray clump of still glowing metal clinging stubbornly to his shoulder the newt took up his preferred stance; upright with a haughty expression filling his features. A stubby fingered hand searched out an itch somewhere along his lower back, the skin covering the whole of the area black as midnight in winter, a stark contrast to the pure white underbelly at his front.

Allowing himself to indulge in a stretch the newt took the opportunity to glance around the confined space, though the room remained massive by comparison he had grown rather weary over his centuries-long stay, having lost interest in the little game some decades ago. Really, he had just kept up the charade for Doc’s sake.

“Well it’s been a real, blast. Especially you, Grogar. However, there has apparently been a rather sudden change in plans,” the newt said. He pointed a thin finger at the pile of crusty bones, the decayed husk staring back with the same look of fearful finality. “I hope you will not mind terribly if I make free with this,” he continued, hefting a silver bell off the cave floor, just out of the reach of a skeletal hoof.

Receiving no complaint the little fiend turned to leave, a hard mask settling over his face, his demeanor completely changed. “Good, because there is a lot to do and now,” there was a brief pause before, with a sigh, he glanced back with a serious expression. “There is even less time within which to do it. With the Heart no longer in place, all manner of terrors will come, Grogar. And whether you find it of recompense or not, this was never personal. You were just another loose end that Fate sent me to tie up.”

Having said his piece the newt turned away once more with every intent to leave, his own agenda dictating a hasty departure. He was immediately interrupted however, jarred from his thoughts after only a few steps as a searing burn gripped at his wrists, charring the flesh with the sizzling pop of burning skin. Crying out and nearly stumbling as his teeth grit in silent pain the creature glanced down, and was once again rudely reminded of the ethereal bands clasped firmly around each wrist. More importantly however, he was reminded to whose will they forced him to succumb.

Grunting in annoyance he watched as the bands of ethereal light shifted hues, the colors dancing across the surfaces to form endlessly complex patterns. A power far beyond mere magic flowed within these relics, serving as a constant limiter upon the one they contained, and a means of endless torment for the wearer. More importantly, a means of control to which he must abide.

“Well, that was faster than I would have liked,” he grumbled, mentally acknowledging a series of new commands whispering across the back of his mind that ordered an immediate return. With an eager grin the damage inflicted upon his body was banished without a trace, one of the few rebellious acts still permitted to him in his incarcerated state.

“Best go see what the old hag wants now; things are about to get real busy and you know how she can get...”

His sense of purpose renewed the newt once again strode forward, another burst of the creature’s will tearing a hole in reality before his feet. A presence felt on the other side beckoned the prisoner forward with an unusual urgency that would normally have made him uneasy. Today, however, it only fueled his own ambitions. “Heh, who am I kidding? It’s about damn time…”

Next Chapter: IV: New Moon Estimated time remaining: 4 Hours, 2 Minutes