What does the demon world look like?

The answers vary depending on which demon you ask. Some say it’s an endless wasteland, others tell about floating fortresses. Not to mention the stories of cities that lie beneath the very earth itself. One thing is for certain, the demon world is as large, if not larger than our own. Even after countless testimonies not one demon has ever claimed to have seen all its corners. Each new generation brings stories of new lands and new sights, indicating that the world itself may be ever-changing in nature. This would make mapping the world useless to demons, which would explain their unusual distrust for our science of cartography.

There is however one place each demon knows of, one that has not changed locations since time memorial. It is considered the very center of their world, the Black City, home to the ruler of demons itself. Only a few archdemons have encountered it, each mentioning the pitch black fog that envelops their ruler, and each refusing to provide more information out of respect for its power. Whether the ruler is a he or a she, what Sin it embodies, or its plans for our world, we may never know. All we know is that we were warned not to anger it under any circumstances.

- First chapter of the Great Book of Demons.  

A large red sun illuminated the rocky wasteland.

Fitznit ignored it as he turned over small rocks with his long black claws, growling in frustration at the continuous lack of insects. He was hungry and the numerous lacerations on his back still stung from the earlier scuffle. A quick snack of some mana rich beetles would help him heal his injuries, though it would do nothing for his wounded pride.

“Stupid Pickwitz,” he mumbled to himself. “Fellaniz, my mate! Not yours! Stupid, stupid wings. No fighting fair fair on ground, like real imp! No no, Pickwitz just fly fly, like stupid beetles.”

His tail lashed out in anger at the memory. One moment he was enjoying his time with Fellaniz, next thing he knows he was fighting for his mating rights. It did not go well. He was powerless before Pickwitz’s flying. Without proper wings of his own, he was only able to get the occasional hit in when Pickwitz swooped down to rake him with his claws. Suffice to say, it did not take long, before he had to flee for his life. To add insult to injury, Fellaniz completely ignored him as he scuttled past her to safety. She looked too busy admiring the wings of this new suitor.

Envy started stirring within him as he flapped the two tiny wings on his back. That stupid look of admiration on her face, bothered him more than losing the fight. Pickwitz would pay for cutting up his back, but she would pay for hurting his pride.

“Stupid Fellaniz,” he said louder. “Me will eat many beetles. Grow big wing wings. Bigger than stupid Pickwitz. Will show you big wings, then you beg begs to be Fitznit mate. Yes yes… and then me will say, only imps with big wing wings may mate with Fitznit!”

A toothy grin slowly crept on his face, the triumphant image causing small chuckles to escape from his devilish smile. He basked in this imaginary victory for minutes on end, before his ears picked up a low buzzing. Curiosity and fear peaked his hearing as he concentrated on the new sound. Slowly, but surely, it grew into a low but ominous humming noise. His eyes started to dart around, fear smothering his initial curiosity. He quickly scanned the small hills around him, before he settled his sights on a horizontal crack running along one of the many rocky outcrops dotting the landscape. Not one to to take any chances in the wasteland, he made a quick dash towards the hiding place.

As he neared the outcrop, a quick backwards glance revealed the source of the noise. In the distance a humongous black tidal wave swept across the lands, its size dwarfing the very hills it enveloped. Fueled by a sudden new-found motivation, his little clawed feet started to gouge the soil as fast as his little imp legs could carry him.

Having reached the hiding place at a breakneck speed, Fitznit stopped only briefly to catch his breath. The break did not last long, the ever increasing humming noise behind him quickly spurring him back into action. He instinctively inspected the crack for any unwanted occupants, before squeezing into it as far as possible. Precious seconds passed as he grunted and cursed at the walls which were chafing his open wounds, promising them payback for damaging his precious wings. He only stopped moving when he couldn’t squeeze himself any further, his wings now uncomfortably pressed against the cold rock behind him.

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With nothing else to do, he looked up at the sky. Above him was a slight sliver of light, its red tinges dimly illuminating the upper portion of the crack. Though it did not do so for long, the light growing dimmer by the second as the humming noise grew in intensity. The sound irritated his ears at first, before it developed into a splitting headache that made him plug them in desperation. Fitznit tried to ignore the building pressure in his skull, not to mention the knot forming in his stomach. Fear told him not to look up, but curiosity won out in the end. The light was gone now. And what little was left of the red sky above, slowly started to darken before his very eyes.

Fear and instinct battled each other as the very air slowly started to vibrate all around him, pebbles and small rocks bouncing up and down in gleeful anticipation. The tremors tickled his skin, worming its way into his skull. His teeth chattered, his bones shook. He dry heaved in terror as liquids started to dribble down his legs. And still the only thing he could do was look up and wait.

It felt like an eternity, before the darkness finally fell upon him, robbing him of his sight, and his mind. He started screeching in perpetual pain and terror, as vibrations rattled his brain, and fear clouded his senses. His head felt like exploding. His ears and nose started to bleed. His eyes felt like they would pop out any second now, but not before their night vision revealed his tormentors.

They were mana beetles.

Mana beetles in numbers so great that their black carapaces blocked out all light. Fitznit could only continue to screech in pain, and wonder, as the sound of thousands upon thousands of little insect wings assaulted him. His jaw clenched. His head throbbed. The pain built up more and more as black spots started to appear in his vision. Agonizing minutes went by as the continuous wave of beetles passed overhead, the sound and the pain only lessening as the last of their numbers flew by. More minutes passed as Fitznit snapped out of his daze, his instincts screaming at him to make his way home.  

Now wounded, miserable, and exhausted, he slowly made his way out of the crack. His ears rang whilst his vision was filled with numerous black spots. Some of them were his own, whilst others were more mana beetles crawling from their hiding places, only to fly in the direction the wave was currently going. Fitznit was no expert of the wastes, but he knew that whatever disaster scared the beetles in such numbers was not to be trifled with. Especially not in his current condition. Having made up his mind, he quickly exited his hiding place, before setting of in the wave’s direction. The plan was to put as much distance between him, and whatever scared mana beetles, before looping back towards his nest. Maybe he would get lucky and find the place where they all landed, then he could eat his fill and get back at Pickwitz before the cycle’s end.

A sudden rending sound interrupted his thoughts as a visible tear in the air started to form in front of him. Through it he could hear strange mumbled words that didn’t make sense, though their arcane power caused his heartbeat to quicken. Everyone in this plane knew it on an instinctual level, and so did Fitznit. He had been chosen for a summoning.

The realization struck him as he felt himself being pulled towards the ever expanding tear, a tingling sensation spreading along his very being as he felt tendrils of power grab hold of his body. He relaxed at their pull, enjoying the tingle of their mana seeping through his skin. Followed by the cool sensation it brought along his back, the familiar feeling of shifting flesh, muscle, and tissue, knotting together in seconds as cuts closed and wounds healed. Black spots began disappearing from his vision, the ringing in his ears faded away as the mana washed over every inch, not missing one spot.

He closed his eyes as he felt his body slowly being dragged towards the now newly formed black hole, reveling in the prickly sensation of power that this new mana gave him. He would serve this new master, and in return he would feed on his mana. With it he would grow strong powerful wings, and when his job ended, he would have the biggest wings of all the imps!

“Just you wait wait,” he giggled manically. “I will make you all pay pa-”

His voice froze in shock as his eyes jerked open to survey his surroundings, triggered by the ice cold feeling of dread that suddenly could be felt in every sinew, bone, and muscle, of his being. Compared to the fear he had felt moments ago, this one was incomparably greater. His body started to shake uncontrollably, mind reeling in terror at his predicament. A pitch black fog had enveloped him up to his neck. Within it, he felt a massive hand holding him in its grip, crushing the wings on his back ever so slowly. Old habits took over as he started screeching in terror once again.

Amid his panic attack, a sudden thought struck him. The beetles didn’t fly away from something, they flew away from someone. The realization caused his neck to angle ever so slowly backwards, his instincts screaming and raging against him in protest, but to no avail. Curiosity won out once more, self-preservation sacrificed, all to have but a single glance of the person that inspired fear into mere insects. Close above him loomed more pitch black fog shaped in the vague round form of a head, pierced only by two blazing red flames of even greater color intensity than the sun above him. As he felt the creature’s gaze upon him his bowels could only squirt in terror.

“I loathe breaking my own rules,” it suddenly spoke in a deep voice. “And as such I propose a deal.” It pointed to the ever expanding summoning void in front of it. “I take what is rightfully yours… and in return I will give you something that is rightfully mine.”

Faced with this ultimatum, only one thing crossed Fitznit’s mind.

The one thing indirectly responsible for all the troubles he has had this day.

Stupid, stupid Pickwitz!