The terms of his punishment are indeed unfortunate; I would never wish them upon any other. It pains me further however that these drastic measures have been made necessary by his own actions, actions that our own collective strength was powerless to overcome.

Perhaps in time, he will come to accept these shackles and find a new understanding as to why they became his inevitable prison. I will hold onto this hope, and the hope that someday he might find it within him to forgive me for this betrayal, of which I have been an integral part.

~The Fate of Wisdom

/ / / The Oculus / / /

It was a cave like most any other, a natural hollow within a mountain much like any mountain one may have seen out there in the world. There were walls of craggy rock, and the occasional stone tooth hanging ominously from the ceiling, or rudely jutting upwards from the floor.

This is where the similarities ended however, for there was no musty smell, nor the dripping of mineral laden water to provide it. This cave in fact was quite different indeed, made so by a few obvious differences. Things like the vaporous silver fog that wafted along the ground, or the dim flicker of candlelight that danced over old desks and piles of faded tomes.

There was also the faint scraping of a quill over aged parchment echoing quietly around the cavern walls, bouncing and reflecting off stone columns and wooden shelves. It never ceased, tireless as the one whose will bade it on. There was much work that needed done here, always something of the greatest importance, always requiring attention, always tedious.

It was always tedious, never ending monotony, cataloging the predictable, the plain. Ensuring that the world continued on as intended, never straying too far from the plan, the expected. Was the wind blowing, or the forest growing, burning, growing anew. Would he find love, would she? Would those fillies finally find their cutie marks? It was all asked here, all told here, and often all repeated here. Tedious indeed.

With the faintest trace of a sigh the one responsible for the only sounds to be heard within this place shifted, willing her consciousness across the space. The task left behind continued unperturbed as though her presence had become unnecessary. Perhaps it had, only time could tell. So it was unfortunate then, that time had nearly run its course…

The presence approached a worn set of wooden shelves, the faintest hints of decay tarnishing the otherwise immaculate carving. In the time it took a fly’s wings to beat the air, names of the displayed volumes and what they contained flashed through her being. These volumes were nothing special to an outsider, just simple little things really; mere moments of laughter, kindness, and the like. Things to remind her why she had spent half of eternity in this place, preserving every little detail. Her favorite moments.

Reaching out she gently caressed the spine of the nearest tome, her energy feeling out every crease, every fiber, the very atoms and the forces binding them together. Yet she would have given anything to truly touch the pages, to feel the parchment crinkle and slide against skin. She stared without eyes at the part of herself that had reached out, and at the same time, looked back at the part that had not.

How long had it been now? How many ages of the world had been spent here, watching, never interacting out of fear of irreparably disrupting the way things were intended? How long had she been alone?

This was all rhetorical of course; she knew the answers to these questions better than any! She had spent time out of each day considering them on every level. The isolation was a price well worth paying; she could stand the loneliness if it meant her work payed off. Perhaps the dividends would offset the weight of their sins. If only a little.

Reluctantly, she withdrew from the book, knowing that ultimately it held no real importance in the great scheme of things. Still though, she could not help but be reminded how it was often the little things that made the biggest difference. That reminder would become a great source of comfort in the times ahead…

It was then she felt it, a disturbance, a ripple through the world. It was a shuddering gasp that ran up through the rock, the soil, the air, from the depths of the world’s soul. It was a mournful wail to the ears of those who could hear it, the cry of nature itself as a delicate balance that had held since the very beginning suddenly shifted, and began to die.

For hundreds of thousands of millennia she had been here, waiting for this moment. She knew that it would inevitably arrive, knowing that it would signal the end of her work. Now that it was here, she was afraid. Afraid of the unknown, what came after, when the dust settled and the plan had run its path. She had always known that this would be the day, had known ever since Infinity had been entrusted to her care.

They had entered the final act, a last resounding crescendo before the silence swallowed what remained. Yet the world around her small sanctuary had not crumbled, its strength holding firm even as she sensed the light held within begin to dim. Magic, it seemed, was more stubborn than she had given credit.

This simply would not do; there was a determined order to these things and any deviation now could sway the plan from the correct path. That was something she could not allow, not if it jeopardized her work…

With hardly a thought she was once again seated at her place of labor, eyeing the book splayed before her. The gilded runes covering the pages glistened in the flickering candlelight. She plucked the still flicking quill from its scribing and turned to a new page, apprehension surrounding the coming action.

Twirling the elegant piece of plumage absentmindedly she silently lamented the necessity of crafting this summons, the individual in question was someone rather left avoided. Which is why there had been little protest on her part when he had elected to remain within the bowls of Tartarus, after the completion of his last assignment.

After a moment spent collecting herself she pressed the tip of the quill into the parchment, gently dragging it across the page to create the simple shapes she desired. With each completed rune the reality around her shifted, time and space rippling within their confines as they parted for but a moment, conforming to the adjustment as the message was relayed.

She did not have long to wait, true to his punctual nature she had barely laid the quill upon the desk when the air behind her ripped open. A vortex, black as midnight gyrated silently as the vacuum of the ether pulled at the room. Then just as abruptly as it had appeared the aperture ceased to exist, settling the flickering candles and bits of loose parchment that had taken flight.

Had she been any other, it would be quite likely that she would have missed the little demon that now shared her personal space. Any other would have perished before taking note of his presence. Luckily for her, she was as close to impervious as any had ever come.

“I suppose you think yourself rather clever then?” She asked, her voice like silk in spite of the annoying theatrics. She waited motionlessly, denying him the pleasure of turning around and seeing that arrogant smirk. If not for her ability to watch light travel, she would have missed the tiny creature move to stand in front of her, his speed impressive even while fully bound by her will.

“Clever?” The tiny newt asked with a tilt of his head, his skin shifting from violet to a lighter hue. “My dear Malithion,” he chortled merrily. “If I were clever, do you really think I would still be running all of these little… Errands, for you?”

Malithion watched as the little creature clambered up onto her desk, manifesting a small satchel within which he began to rummage. She knew better than to be fooled by his casual mannerisms however. He was cold, calculating, and always vigilant for new ways of manipulating others.

“Save your breath, Tillook, I shall not be pulled into another of your twisted mind games. You claim to be lacking in wit, yet despite all our best efforts in the past, here you stand. You will not claim your freedom with words, not from me.”

The newts’ searching slowed as he looked up from what he was doing, his gaze lingering on the giant tome beside him. “Words are all I have,” he said quietly before his rummaging continued, his arm reaching impossibly deep into the sack. “You lot made damned sure of that. Didn’t you?” Whilst pulling his prize from the depths of the bag the little newt glared up at his warden. “And that is NOT my name…”

The room grew quiet and still, nothing dared to move. Not even the tiny flames of the candles flickered as Malithion tensed, her entire consciousness converging on one single point. The stone walls of the chamber creaked and groaned as she moved to bear down on him, her mere presence building strength enough to have crushed the minds of lesser beings. If any of this concerned the newt however, he did not show it.

After a moment of staring each other down Malithion broke the unspoken stalemate between them. She realized that once again, he had gotten what he wanted. “No, and yet, that is what you are, and so that is what we call you. It is what you have made of yourself, Tillook.”

Tillook’s eyes narrowed as his fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the object he had retrieved from the sack. “The scraps I managed to pull together you mean,” he muttered darkly to himself as he tossed a small silver bell in Malithions’ general direction.

It was more out of curiosity than anything that Malithion deemed to catch the bauble of precious metal from the air, her senses scouring over its surface in a heartbeat. Finding very little of interest she sent the little bell floating gently back the way it had come. “Another trinket for the collection?” She asked, sensing that for the moment at least, his challenge to her authority had abated.

“Grogar sends his regards,” Tillook replied, a hint of credible sophistication entering his tone as he too took to examining the bell. “The old goat was nearly back to his full strength when I arrived, probably would have broken out of his cell in another millennia or so,” he added pointedly. He tossed the bell over his shoulder and began bouncing it into the air repeatedly with his tail, giving a very demanding look.

“Were there any complications with your task?” Malithion asked, her tone level as she reached passed him to close the massive book. She had spotted the microsecond glances he had been sneaking at the texts involving his summons.

“Only this,” he said, catching the bell and holding it out again. “You know, it’s funny, but I seem to recall watching this little doodad melt as Grogar was defeated. Now if I am not very much mistaken, Harmony’s Light tends to be very thorough when subduing one of these discordant types. So how is it then, I cannot help but wonder, that I would come across it once again after all this time?”

Malithion bristled at these words, the rather pointed question sounding much more like an accusation or demand than a simple inquiry. The verbal jousting aside however, the mad little being raised a fair enough point. The artifact was no mere bell of cast silver and bronze, it had been forged from the essence of pure evil. It should have been destroyed.

“Now as the, lowly appointed Fate of Mischief. It hardly falls within my limited knowledge of Infinity’s inner workings as to understand how such a minor little detail could have been overlooked,” he said boldly. He casually spun the bell atop a single finger and glancing meaningfully at the closed tome beside him. “I mean really, a focus that passively and infinitely bolsters your own natural stores of magic? Seems worthy of mention in that little record of yours…”

Malithion hesitated, uncertain just how much Tillook actually knew of what lay before them. He was always like this, always asking the right questions and leading her in the direction that he wanted their talks to go. If she could, she would bury him under Tartarus and be done with the mad tyrant. She hesitated because her answers required great care; care to ensure he never learned the truth…

“Infinity holds within it all that pertains to our past, and future. Anything with relevant or worthwhile effect is cataloged and saved, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem to us. The fact that neither Grogar, nor his execrable kingdom have been mentioned again stands as proof to me that his part in the world had come to an end. Which is why I sent you.” She stated cooly.

“How convenient of you,” Tillook said flatly, sending the bell away to join a growing collection of oddities with a snap of his spindly fingers. “Just,” he snapped his fingers again. “And have your little butlers take care of the leftovers. Why wait to see what unnecessarily over complicated or time consuming solutions Infinity comes up with for dealing the final blow?”

“As opposed to how you did things so long ago?” Malithion asked in retort, her own tone growing icy as she moved away, wanting to get things back under her control. “I have read the Forger’s journals in my time spent here, of how things once were between you and he.”

Tillook stiffened, barely visible but to Malithion’s eye he may as well have screamed. “A, jaundice, account I am sure,” he said dangerously. The venom behind the words deadly as a serpent in sight of its prey, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Somewhere near her core Malithion shivered, it had been so long now. So much time spent holding the noose around the old villain’s neck and yet, she was still afraid of him. On some level that voice would forever haunt her soul; it was an eerie reminder of their shared history. A violent and bloody conflict that never truly saw victory, on either side. It served also as a warning, nay, a promise that he would turn on her someday. When the opportunity presented itself…

He had his schemes and plans, Malithion knew, but what worried her the most was just how much information Tillook had managed to conceal away within that fractured mind of his. Still fretting about it served no purpose, he had no means of escaping the bonds of her will, and there was work to be done.

Malithion took a moment to calm herself, allowing the ebb and flow of her energy to settle. It was rather irksome, just how easily this little pest could cause her to become so flustered. This was a battle of control, her will against his. He may have managed to survive the old conflict, but she, had endured it.

Reaching again for the quill, still twirling away mid air, Malithion plucked the utensil from its work and again opened the great tome. “Of that I have no doubt,” she stated dismissively whilst scratching out another set of ornate runes upon the parchment. “However, any bias you may attempt to point out was made quite irrelevant by your own actions. To think, that you would ask sympathy despite the destruction of so many.”

Tillook was standing on the page nearly before she had even sensed the motion, his restraints crackling with the power they had bled from him. “I will not cower from such accusations, my dear. I embrace them, just as I admitted to them all those ages ago before a tribunal of my fellows, the Forger and yourself included. I remember well, every face that fell at my feet near the end of the conflict. All those lives ended by what little mercy I retained,” he growled up at her, placing himself in the way of the quill. “A mercy that spared them of the fate you chose for them. A curse, implemented by desperate minds seeking to hide from their own doings.”

Malithion felt her disciplined mind strain, even after an epoch of time spent in battle against this Demon and having found no means to his permanent end, she once again felt the desire to try. She needed an outlet for her frustrations lest this get out of hand. Somewhere out in the world, a mountain shattered into dust. “What we did, Tillook, we did in the name of sanity. In the name of putting an end to your madness.”

“Madness?” Tillook asked incredulously, his color flashing through reds and yellows as he shook his head in disbelief. “Is that what you call it? Tell me, Malithion, would that be your conclusion, or his? You see I may not have read those journals the same as you, never the less I was there, and if that is all you have to say then perhaps you should read them again dearie. Because before what comes next is over, we may both need to redefine what we consider, madness.”

“What comes next,” Malithion said firmly, roughly brushing him aside with a mere thought. “Is a means to an end, for all of us.” At these words the quill resumed its path over the parchment, the inscriptions it left behind taking on a glow of their own as if lit from within. “Now, if you are quite done attempting to glean information. I have a task for you.”

“I had gathered as much,” Tillook grumbled from the floor where he had fallen. The diminutive newt not yet having bothered to rise as he halfheartedly waved a hand through the air. The colorful band wrapped around his wrist still illuminated with a persistent glow. “These little bracelets might keep me in check, but my senses are not so dull as to have been blinded to such things. I felt the balance tip, same as the rest of you.”

“Then you know what you must do, Tillook,” Malithion stated firmly as she finished the new line of runes. “The heart is the key and now rests in its most vulnerable position. The King must not claim it, not yet. I trust you to do as you see fit to ensure this does not occur, but you are not to kill the Dragon. Are these commands clear?”

“Transparently,” Tillook said as he floated into an upright position, a wicked little grin showing far too many teeth for a creature of his appearance. “And I will trust you to allow me the freedom to carry them out as I see fit,” he finished, glancing up and catching her gaze. His grin only widened as the light cast by the bands around his wrists began to dim considerably, allowing for his energy to flare with strength.

Malithion scratched out one final rune, confirming the commands and sending the little Demon on his way, regrettably only temporarily. With an inward sigh of relief she took another moment to calm herself, the dialog had been cause for stress on its own, but the mental assault had been unending. He had learned much about attacking her over the millennia, and this last bout had left her feeling somewhat drained.

Releasing the quill back to its work Malithion turned to finally acknowledge the third presence she had been concealing away, deconstructing the pocket dimension within which he had hidden. Now, more so than ever she would have need of her allies, and this one she trusted more than any other. As the remains of the refuge fell away a small owl hopped forward, saying nothing as it studied her with an unblinking gaze.

Malithion returned the stare for a moment, her mind still unsettled by what she knew was soon to be. The oncoming storm, gathering on the horizon. Steeling her resolve, she gave the avian vessel the first order he had received in a very long while. “Follow him, and observe.”

Next Chapter: VIII: Jigane Ga Deru: The Steel Appears Estimated time remaining: 2 Hours, 39 Minutes