Chapter 5 - Suspension of Belief

[Jack]

(Valerius)
Footfall on the cobblestone walk between open graves, whose residents continued to cry out to be saved long after he'd passed, beat out the cadence of a military march that echoed amidst the fallen supports of what appeared to have once been a massive churchlike structure. Here, though, it was far more likely that it appeared detroyed by design rather than action, an attempt at a twisted aesthetic to fit hand in hand with the rows of deep holes where those who were fervent in their disbelief lay to partake in eternal torment. If there was one thing he could believe, it was that despite the desolate look of the city itself, sprawling endlessly as Troy herself might have seemed and laid waste as she had been at the hands of the Greeks, the clay-red stucco scenery was, simply put, just that.

Fake. Engineered to unsettle anyone who roamed free throughout the roads and alleys, while wind tickled at their ears like an expert inquisitor whispering as the whip flayed their skin; now, in death, do you believe? Quite an irony, it seemed to him, that those who would falsify testimony as to the glory of a God and speak ill of Him would be destined to spend their eternity trapped in a falsification created to intimate a distance from Him.

Irony that I would be here, as well, he thought, wrapping his heavy leather coat about him, years ago a gift from a friend who hadn't had need of it anymore and now the only protection he had against the blistering cold wind. When I passed through to follow the boy, I saw a glimpse of the virtuous, of almost nonexistance, and felt pulled there...to a space beyond space and time. Limbo. Instead, I find myself surrounded by pagans and devil worshippers. Not very flattering.

Tacitus, as silent as his name would suggest save for the resounding thud of his boots against the stone, shook his head and trudged on, barely sidestepping geysters of flame which paradoxically chilled him beyond what the wind could instead of warming him. Yet the city stretched out to the horizon, as far as he could see, and perhaps even beyond that. It reminded him of the Dyson's sphere theory, in which a star is surrounded by a gigantic shell to harness its life-giving light, a world where one can stand on a mountaintop and see the entire world around, above them, millions of times larger than any planet.

Rather than harnessing the warmth of a star, the endless city recieved its light from the admonishing eyes of an angry Lord, and it bred despair amongst the growing number of infinity's residents.

Urging himself on, Tacitus feared the worst -- he knew not what he had gotten himself into, how far he would have to travel, or whom he would meet along this journey, but of paramount importance was the boy. Should he never find his way out of this city...Best not to think about it, he mused, and scratched just above his ear where the silk ribbon that held the mask to his face rubbed most at his skin. I will fight my way out of here if need be. He said nothing, but whatever it is he's doing here, I suppose I ought to lend Cynric a hand. It's the least I can do...

[Jack]

(Telamichious)
Black. That was color of the heavens, contrary to popular belief. For years, mankind has looked into the sky, to the heavens for their answers, to find nothing but more haunting questions in the blackness of space. As Telamichious opened his eyes he saw nothing but blackness, and without the stars to give the familiar light of safety. It was a prison, this ball of space, and he couldn’t think of a way out. The Darklight emotion could think of nothing, all his powers were ruled out before he would even invoke them. Fire, Wind and Lightning needed air to work, and burning things out of the way was Telamichious’ consistent first choice. Earth, Water, and Ice needed gravity to be effective, and gravity was just as plentiful as air in the vastness of space.

Telamichious looked down at his hands, and the skin that had been his current home was gone, his Elemeleon self has returned to him, and although he missed his newfound human shape, it was nice to feel the brute power of his born form. His Dark powers shifted into his head, but he realized that in the darkness of space, his Dark abilities would do very little. He slowly thought towards his Light powers, which he forsook when he embraced the Darklight visage permanently, promising himself to never find happiness again, after being the sacrificial lamb for his genocidal father.

He had one last possible choice, his Darklight powers, and maybe the awkward mix of Light and Dark would have just enough diversity in power to break through the prison. He crossed his arms over his chest, brought his knees up putting himself into a fetal position and closed his eyes, drooping his head to his body.

Everything about Telamichious was special, his family’s personal element, the Darklight, was thought of as one of the more powerful of all of the families of Elemeleons, and his birthmark, the Phoenix, give him the ability to raise from his own ashes, at least once, even though the rebirth process took some amount of time. He focused every bit of power, from tiptoes to fingertips, into the center of his body, where the spiritual focus of the Darklight resided in every Scuraluce. He felt prepared and was ready to unleash the fury that resided in him.

From his safe ball, Telamichious’ back arched and the energy he had been conjuring blasted omnidirectionally from the focal point of his chest. The energy gathered inside the space prison like pressure inside a balloon, and like a balloon with too much air, popped in a peaceful silence. Telamichious fell to the ground, landing on his left knee and right foot in a crouched position, feeling extremely light-headed and dizzy, as well as the stars that flashed in front of his eyes. As he found his sight back in control, he looked at his hands to find skin, a sign that his human form has returned, and he was torn between dismay and relief. He stood slowly, his head still shaken from the Darklight energy as he scoped out his surroundings, finding nothing friendly about the place, darkness seemed to emanate from every corner of the place.

“I really do wish that the warden would come pay a visit to his prisoner, for this prisoner has much to say,” Telamichious remarked as he slowly walked forward, looking for his capture, “Much like a caged animal, my anger while inside the prison is not by any stretch of the imagination equal to the vengeance it feels when it breaks out, why don’t you come out and play, I am waiting!”
Telamichious stood there, now in his human form, waiting to vent some built-up hatred, smiling all the while.

[Jack]

(Telamichious)
Red. The fire that burns within one’s soul, passion, anger, obsession, raging like an open flame. The fire that would often erupt from Telamichious’ stable hands, the essence of his passion, his passion for hating all living things. He wasn’t always black hearted, there was a time where he was something of a playboy in the world of the Elemeleons, but that time was thousands of lifetimes in the past.

Continuing to scour the strange place in which he suddenly arrived in captivity, Telamichious looked for his abductor, wishing for an opportunity to taste his vengeance. As he ventured farther into the labyrinth of brick walls and open doors, he felt a strange sense of familiarity in the air and it shivered down his spine like an icy breeze. He clinched his fists, the tension was racking his body like electricity, up and down, back and forth, swelling up inside. His face was the definition of seriousness, without movement or emotion, and with all the defense mounted in his body, he still wasn’t ready for what was about to happen.

Telamichious slammed into the ground, flattened out like road kill, not to mention feeling as such. He slowly tried to stand up, quite useless as the gravity was many times more powerful that what his body could withstand. He struggled at the ground, trying to get up to at least a kneel, but failed, his mind continued to give orders, but his body was giving out. “Quite pathetic for a Scuraluce, I am very unimpressed, my expectations for you we so much higher.”
Telamichious slowly looked up at his abductor, which what muscular energy he had left to muster, and what he saw he passed off as a figment of his imagination, for what stood in front of him was another Elemeleon. Telamichious got worried; he never thought he would see another one of his kind. “Maybe he has the Phoenix birthmark as well,” Telamichious thought to himself, “born again like me, but why would he still look like an Elemeleon.”
“You are a Lunaire, aren’t you, I can tell by your control of space,” Telamichious said to his other, still contesting the gravity. The Lunaire smiled slightly as he walked up to the paralyzed Telamichious, standing right next to him as he strained out against his new heaven-drived prison. Telamichious’ enemy kicked in him the gut, and laughed shortly, “Well, at least you know who I am, not in any great detail as I know you, but I am surprised royalty such as yourself would know of a peasant family like mine.”
“Royalty, I am not royalty,” Telamichious exclaimed in an angry tone, yet with a hint of confusion, “all of the Elemeleons lived as equals, there was no social classes, we did away with those early in our history, and as I recall the Lunaire family was quite powerful.” The Lunaire Elemeleon spit on Telamichious as he finished his sentence, “You are one of two things, gullible or naïve, which is it Telamichious.” As the Lunaire said his name Telamichious’ eyes flashed in curiosity, “How could he know my name,” he thought to himself, his battle with his prison ceased during this conversation.

“The special Telamichious Lei Scuraluce, the second of the Scuraluce family, so important you were, if your grandfather was to pass you would be in charge of not only the largest family of Elemeleons but of the Elemeleons as a whole. Not only were you royalty, you were something of a playboy; you could have whoever you wanted with a snap of the finger, and a powerful warrior. You had it all, and now in this new revelation, you were granted with our most prized and holy birthright, the Phoenix,” the Lunaire roared, venting built of frustrations from within his writhing soul, “You deserve none of this, you spoiled brat, and I will rip each of your gifts from your worthless body!”
Telamichious continued to try to unravel the mystery that was his location, this was like no place he could ever imagine, he could feel pure and relentless evil pouring out of every corner. He knew that he had to escape this place, but before he could to that he had to venture out of his new cell. He looked at the Lunaire, making as much eye contact as possible and he shrieked in terrible pain, like a wounded animal snared in the hunter’s trap, but unlike the animal, Telamichious’ shriek was more bite than bark, as fire engulfed the Lunaire, letting up the gravity trap. Telamichious quickly rose and stared down his opponent.

The Lunaire stood up, steam rising from his body, applauding. Telamichious glared at his other, with eyes that could burn through metal, ready to repay him for imprisoning him, twice. “You may have a better memory of our past, but I have a better grasp of our future,” and with that Telamichious in his tattered black slacks, defamed white shoes and what left of a shirt on his chest charged the Lunaire, his eyes and hands glowing black, with the color of Telamichious’ soul.

[Jack]

(Haveti)
Telamichious' charge came to an abrupt halt as Lunair hurled a spacial distortion at him, which knocked him back and stole the breath from his lungs. The elemeleon Lunair chuckled again, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. "Foolish Scuralace..do you even comprehend this place you've come to be in? Or do you lack," Lunair began increasing the gravity on Telamichious, "The fortitude to repent your sin!?"

The raw fury of being held down against his will pent up in Telamichious, manifesting itself in a burst of sparking flame that cascaded at Lunaire. The space elemeleon ducked aside, injured, sidestepping into a cobblestone alleyway. Telamichious rolled to his knees, jumping up in pursuit, pursuit of answers, justice, a reckoning. The other elemeleon called back to him, "Another time, Telamichious Lei Scuralace.."

The muscle strain of having been pressed into the ground so physically, and moreso, the strain from struggling so furiously against the gravity, left Telamichious winded. Just as he was about to call upon his Darklight powers for a boost, the fleeing sillohouette of Lunaire fell to the ground, toppled by the second shadowy figure standing in his place.

Caught by surprise, the best Lunaire could manage was a gravitational pulse which tore through the brick and mortar of the ancient wall, completely missing Haveti. Having strongarmed the elemeleon as he exited the alleyway, Haveti crouched over Lunaire, preparing to throttle him. "Wait!" Telamichious called as he came upon the scene. "He has things to answer for."

Haveti looked up at Telamichious, recognition flaring. "Forgive me!", throwing the man at the ground and stepping back a pace. "By the True Gods I had not seen he was already marked for death." Lunaire looked in momentary bewilderment from the bloody warrior to the other elemeleon before narrowing his eyes and beginning to concentrate space around him..

Nearby in the city, a man hidden in a heavy coat turned, his breath visibly issuing out from his mask and into the frigid air. Valerius was busy calculating probable causes of the distant sounds he had heard, traveling laterally from street to street to reach a position to approach from. He skirted around the radius of the fight, always several buildings back, alert to analyze what he could hear.

When he reached the point where the shadows would stretch over him in his approach, he turned and walked directly towards the disturbance.

[Jack]

(Telamichious)
Purple. That was the color of the Royalty in the Elemeleon world, much like that of the human past, but that Elemeleon world was something that Telamichious had no memory of. Telamichious walked up to the grounded Lunaire and stepped on his throat, “Tell me what I want to know or you will find yourself in a realm of pain.”
The Lunaire didn’t move, but his smirk grew wider and wider, “You are so foolish, we found, however, that is not stupidity that courses your blood but naiveté. You have a very false and diluted memory of our past, it makes me sick to think that once our people were to be entrusted to you, but if you are here that means our people will not have to go through the torture of being your whipping boys!”

Telamichious took his foot off of the neck of the Lunaire and looked into his eyes, “What the hell are you talking about, I know my past intimately, how could you think that I have some imagined memory, what aren’t you telling me!?”
The Lunaire laughed at Telamichious, the laugh resounded through what was left of the ancient building, “Well then, I guess we were have to save history lesions for another time.” The floor around him and Telamichious grew black and Telamichious jumped back from the motionless Lunaire and the dark ground that surrounded him. “We will meet again Scuraluce, and it will not be as friendly next time,” the Lunaire said before melting into the black ground beneath him.

“No, come back,” Telamichious yelled at the now absent Elemeleon as he ran forward to where it he was before being absorbed into the wormhole that he created, “I want answers!”
The blackness on the ground below him quickly faded away and Haveti looked on at Telamichious’ anger. Haveti stepped up beside him, “We have more important goals to achieve than dealing with these challengeless opponents, may I suggest that we traverse to the exit of this foul place.” Telamichious looked over at him, with very empty dark eyes, his head lifting from the tilted position it was previously in, and nodded, his head a jumble of thoughts: What was the Lunaire talking about when he said his past was diluted and false, was his memory somehow corrupted by his rebirth, was he really some royal member of his people? Telamichious knew one thing was for sure, to find the answers to any of these questions, he would have to escape from this hellhole he had found himself in.

[Jack]

(Haveti)
Telamichious was silent as he walked with Haveti through the streets, brooding on what the Lunaire had said. Haveti, lacking a scabbard for his bayonet, was flicking it through the air in front of him. "Whatever the foe was, can't have gone far. Perchance we'll meet the bastard again as we walk?"

The elemeleon disagreed. "That Lunaire shapes space and gravity at will. He could be anywhere by now." Haveti turned and frowned. "Nothing is absolute in this place. Magics and forces bend strangely here, in this paradise of the Gods." Telamichious snorted at that, and they left the cobblestone streets of the city for the dry sandy wastelands beyond Dis.

Gouts of acrid smoke rose from the tombs below the ground here, which dotted the land before the strange storm in the distance.

Behind them, following at a discreet distance, was the masked Valerius. He had acknowledged the two ahead as his comrades, but stayed back and out of sight as a rearguard for them, should they be caught unawares by an ambush.

"What tempest spins this breath," Haveti pondered as the storm ahead came into clearer view. The twisting winds and fire stood like a wall entirely localized atop a murky river that flowed ahead. Telamichious frowned. "Doesn't look like something we can just go around."

Valerius watched carefully as the two made their way into the Fifth level of Hell..

[Jack]

(Thanatos)
He moved much quicker now, his power growing with each soul that chose to join him. Thankfully, the blood that had soaked his clothing had melted off of him as he passed into the City. Convincing the souls there to place themselves in his trinkets was all too easy, considering their alternative involved being trapped in flaming graves for all eternity. Their power spread out around him and formed gray wings that suspended him high in the air. Where he had spent untold hours crawling on his belly through the Malebolge he now sped across the sky like a comet.

In spite of his steadily increasing power, he was becoming more and more wary of his surroundings. He knew that there were other creatures in this Hell - living creatures who were working their way out. He had seen what one of them had done to the minotaur, and the trail of blood it had left leading into Dis. He now sensed more than saw the trail of the other creatures. He couldn’t be sure, but the souls he spoke with when he stopped to rest himself told of two or three travelers who seemed to be headed for the outside world. To Thanatos, they could be excellent allies or one of his greatest threats and his only way to determine which was to catch them. He put on his best actor’s face and picked up speed.

Out of nowhere he felt something take hold of him. He suddenly felt as if he weighed two tons instead of the hundred and half or so that he truly did. He plummeted to the ground, his wings dissolving as they could no longer hold him. He slammed into a tomb and reduced it to rubble as he crashed through. Despite the pain from limbs and ribs he desperately hoped were only bruised, he was on his feet in a flash, and was picked up and slammed into a nearby gravestone almost as quickly. As he struggled once again to his feet, another force lifted him and pushed him against one of the larger monuments. His hands were pulled upwards and pinned above his head, and his feet were pinned down likewise. The sensation was very similar to being put on the rack.

“So another living soul has come into our fine city,” a voice said out of the nearby shadows. “Tell me, what is your business here?”
Thanatos knew that whatever it was, it was not alive, and yet it still had immense power. Somehow he didn’t sense that it was entirely human, yet it didn’t seem demonic either. He didn’t know what to make of it, and chose the safest answer he could think of, “My only business here is to find my way to the surface, as any lost soul who came to this place would strive for the light of day.”
A smile was on the face of the humanoid being that stepped into the dim light of smoldering fires. “A being such as yourself must surely have a greater purpose than simply seeing the rise and set of the sun. Tell me,” Thanatos suddenly felt himself stretched a little tighter, “are you with the Scuraluce?”
If Thanatos didn’t find it so difficult to breathe, he might have hissed. It was an Elemeleon unless he was horribly mistaken. He had only run across the creatures once before, but he remembered that well enough to know that this one could probably kill him quite easily even considering both of their current states. “I am here alone.” Thanatos made his voice as sincere as possible, above and beyond the mere truth of his sincerity. “I am well aware of the presence of the creature of which you speak, but he and his companions have no business with me.”
The Elemeleon squinted. “How is it that you know he has companions, then?”
Thanatos managed a small wry smile, and nodded his head toward the rows of graves. “I have a bit in common with most of this city’s citizens. I’ve made sure to never underestimate their knowledge.”
The Lunaire grunted, and Thanatos felt the binds on him release suddenly. He fell to his hands and knees, and looked up to see the creature fading into a black portal that had formed behind it. The last words he heard him mumble sounded something a lot like, “useless human.”
Thanatos shook his head. “I try to never underestimate anyone, fool.” Thanatos thought to himself. As his gray wings lifted him into the sky once again he glanced down at the area of his impromptu encounter and thought, “When we next meet, the circumstances may not be so much in your favor.”

[Jack]

(Thanatos)
Talking with souls could be so incredibly confusing at times. It had taken him several hours to determine that "the masked one", "the silent one", and "he who hides himself" were the same person. That and the one called "Telamichious" as well as "he of the darklight" brought the group ahead of him down to at least three. Thanatos knew that the one the souls called "he of bloody hands" must be the one who injured the minotaur, and might be the same creature as "white eyes".

He desperately wished he had a pair of goggles right now. His gray wings again beat at the air around him, and the wind in his eyes was so bad that was he moving even a breath faster he'd probably be completely blinded by it. The worst part was that he knew he could have gone faster was it not for that; he wasn't even straining to maintain his speed. He was looking forward to meeting the three or more living creatures that had found their way to this Hell. If he found them to be hostile, they could present a great and interesting challenge. If they were friendly, then he might have a little help with whatever dangers he faced in his chosen quest, and he could always kill them afterwards - if they didn't try to kill him first. He licked his lips - it had been far too long since he had had a woman, and if this Queen was anything like the souls had described her, she would be quite a catch indeed. He laughed to himself - not that there wouldn't be plenty of mortal women once he got himself out of this pathetic afterlife.

The edge of the city approached - he could make out the massive gates that barred entry from the River Styx. Thanatos almost thanked his good fortune for bringing him this far without conflict when he suddenly noticed three or four black specs detach themselves from the massive bulwarks ahead. They shot upwards, revealing their shape as they came closer, until all of their bloodstained armor, gleaming weapons, and great black bat-like wings were in view.

They screamed and roared at him, and from the little that was intelligible to Thanatos he got the distinct impression that he was not to be permitted to leave Dis. It became apparent that they desired he turn back when their flaming eyes flared and they charged at him. Thanatos groaned as he drew his sword. The first blow glanced harmlessly off of his weapon, and his first attacker was thrust back by the air itself. The second flew harmlessly by as Thanatos shot up suddenly, only to come back down upon the creature's back, blade first. That attacker managed to escape with nothing more then a cut wing and slightly impaired flying ability. As the third demon knight approached, swinging a sword ablaze with hellfire, the winds began to whip fiercely at Thanatos' clothing and hair.

The sword singed the soul-catchers' beard, and mere inches kept his head entirely on his shoulders. Thanatos responded with a quick draw and a swipe with one of his daggers. The demon reeled backwards, bellowing in anger more than pain as his left arm fell towards the distant ground, still clutching his massive shield.

More of the demons leapt from their perches below to join the fray. Thanatos found himself bellowing as his power built to a crescendo, and the winds intensified around him until their spinning fury began to keep the demons at bay. The small shadows cast on his clothing seemed to leap off of him, becoming thin and wispy in the wind at first, but growing around him until all that could be seen was his faint outline amid the swirling, dark vortex. He sheathed his weapons and reached downward with both hands. The winds shot towards the ground, striking the pavement and buildings below with the fury of a tornado. The dark winds grabbed at the fires that blanketed the city, pulling them up into the vortex to create a pillar of flame which could probably be seen all the way ahead in the River and behind in the forest. Thick shadowy tendrils lashed out here and there, striking at the demons like whips.

About ten of the demon knights were sucked into the flames or pulled in by the dark tendrils and screamed horribly as the whirlwind slowly consumed them. Those that did not began to flee as the tornado lifted itself up and over the Gates of Dis. Inside, a panting Thanatos watched them run until he was sure the last were out of sight. Then, even more suddenly then the pillar had created itself it vanished, and an exhausted Thanatos plummeted the last ten feet or so to the ground. He lay on his back, panting for air and unable to stand, his clothing uncomfortably warm from his own fires. In time he knew his power would grow, but for now he knew he had overdone it. After several minutes he hobbled to his feet and began walking uphill, heading into the next circle of Hell.