Prologue
Abyss was the very lowest of the Lower Realms. It was a place where only the most powerful of Demons dared to enter, and the place that the Lords of the Lower Realms called home. Shelderoth was not one of these Lords, nor was he a powerful Demon. No, Shelderoth was none of those, but rather, a Crimson-Ash Elemental, the very lowest in the chain of power that dominated the Lower-Realms.
Yet, somehow, through a series of extremely unfortunate circumstances, Shelderoth – a lowly Elemental – now found himself outside the doors of the Black Spire, the castle of the Demon Lord Krios.
The small Elemental had only been down here for about a minute, and already he could feel the extreme heat of this place breaking down his underwhelming form. Shelderoth, like most Elementals, was barely a foot and a half tall.
He stood before the massive set of doors, his entire body trembling despite the intense heat. He had been sent down here after seeing the Mezzo-Demon Vykamor, who hadn’t wanted to travel all the way here and risk the wrath of the Demon Lords.
All he had to do was report the sighting of the Origin in the Mortal Realm known as Laedrin. A human possessing the Origin was a clear violation of the Accords signed between the Upper and Lower Realms, and as a denizen of the Lower Realms, it was his duty to report such a sighting. However, when Shelderoth had originally taken this news to Lord Nilegard – who was a Lesser-Demon, not an actual Lord – he’d been expecting some sort of reward.
Shelderoth had been sure that Nilegard would want to deliver this message to the Demon Lords himself and claim whatever rewards they could bestow upon him. Instead, Nilegard had sent him down to Dunn, to report this to Vykamor. That had been terrifying enough as it was, but Shelderoth’s fate had been sealed when even she had refused.
Now he stood there, trembling before the massive castle of a true Demon Lord and trying to work up the nerve to knock. There were no guards outside the castle. Why would there be, when no one would even dare to approach? Yet, here he was, an Elemental, the weakest of the weak, about to try and gain an audience with a Lord.
Had he had the option, Shelderoth would simply have waited there for eternity, trying to work up the nerve. But his constitution wasn’t nearly robust enough to survive in the blistering heat of Abyss. He had maybe ten minutes before his body fell apart if he wasn’t let inside, and ultimately, that was what decided it for him.
Extending a shaking hand, Shelderoth rapped gently on the hundred-foot tall door. He hadn’t really been expecting the knock to even make so much as a sound. That was why, when a booming echo sounded from within, he jumped into the air, his tiny wings fluttering to keep him aloft as he prepared to flee. Before he could manage his escape, the doors swung open, not making so much as a single sound despite their massive size.
There, framed in the doorway and standing some fifty feet tall, was the Demon Lord in question. Krios had to be the single-most terrifying entity Shelderoth had ever seen. His skin was such a dark red color that it seemed almost black. Rippling muscle flowed over his frame, outlining bulging pectoral and abdominal muscles. He had massive arms and legs, and gigantic, pinioned bat-like wings. A pair of shining golden horns protruded from his scalp, and a thick, muscled tail twitched behind his back.
“How unexpected,” the Demon Lord said, his deep voice all but booming in the deafening silence.
Shelderoth’s body froze midair – literally – as the Lord’s slitted golden eyes fixed upon him.
“Tell me, little bug. What are you doing down here?”
Shelderoth, who’d had his body pinned in place by Krios’s immense power, suddenly found himself able to speak, though the rest of his body remained frozen.
“I…I…I c-come b-bearing a m-message from Vykamor, M-Mezzo Demon of D-Dunn,” Shelderoth said, stammering and stuttering so badly that he was afraid the Demon Lord might kill him for his insolence.
“Really? Vykamor sends me an Elemental messenger and expects that I would grant them an audience? I’m…insulted,” the Demon Lord said, his golden eyes narrowing.
Shelderoth didn’t think it was possible to feel any more terror than he had been when Krios had appeared. However, at the sight of his obvious displeasure, Shelderoth felt a new level of terror, one that he had not thought existed.
“P-Please, my L-Lord,” Shelderoth stammered, still unable to move. “I am only a l-lowly messenger. Vykamor-”
“Silence!” Krios roared, his voice so powerful that Shelderoth found it difficult to keep his form from being blown apart.
“Do you think to speak on behalf of a Mezzo Demon bug?”
“N-Not at all, m-my lord,” Shelderoth said, wondering if he might actually start crying in terror, something which he hadn’t done in thousands of years.
Krios seemed to contemplate that for a moment, stroking his pointed chin with the tips of his massive and wickedly clawed fingers.
“You are fortunate, bug,” Krios said after a few long moments. “You have caught me in an affable mood. So, I will allow you to speak. I do not think I need to emphasize what will happen, should your news displease me.”
Shelderoth swallowed past the lump in his throat, knowing very well that the news he had to deliver would not please the all-powerful Demon Lord. Still, he was here, and if he were to lie, Krios would be able to tell immediately and would likely obliterate him on the spot. It was better to just tell him the truth and hope he was the merciful type. Well, as merciful as a Demon Lord could be, anyway.
In a stammering and terrified squeak of a voice, Shelderoth told him all about what he’d seen — a human in one of the Mortal Realms who was in possession of the Origin. He also told him about how he had failed to kill him before his time ran out. Krios, thankfully, simply listened the entire time, his expression impassive. Shelderoth might have taken this as a good sign, if not for the fact that he was still trapped mid-air and could do nothing more than talk.
“…and then Vykamor sent me down here to notify you, my lord,” Shelderoth finished.
His story was greeted with complete silence, the Demon Lord’s eyes practically boring into his soul, as though he were looking for something there. It was obvious he’d told the truth, as no one would dare lie to someone who could read those as easily as he could see the ever-present fires of Abyss. But just because he’d told the truth, didn’t mean Krios wouldn’t destroy him. The news that the Accords had been broken was most definitely displeasing, and in the Lower Realms, the messenger was often the one who carried the brunt of the Demon Lords’ displeasure.
That was probably why he’d been sent here in the first place, as a sacrificial pawn. Despite his precarious situation, Shelderoth felt a small prickle of anger at that. Elementals were always being stepped on down here. They were always at the bottom, and so few ever advanced up the ladder, that it was almost laughable. Every other demonic being in the Lower Realms at least had the option and resources available for themselves.
If they put in the work to accumulate enough strength, they would eventually grow. There was a limit to how much power they could hope to gain, of course, but they could at least move past their humbler origins. Elementals, on the other hand, needed a more powerful Demon to give them a boost through that initial wall for them to become one of the Dufinity. From there, it was all up to the Elemental.