Chapter 2: - What makes a man?

Nero was sat across from Atix. They were back in the room he had appeared in, and he’d warmed up to it. It was a way better place to be in than outside where horrors unknown to man lurked.

For a moment there was silence, save from the pair of wooden stools creaking underneath their weights. The man seemed content within it, eyes warm and fatherly, as if to say ‘take all the time you need son.’

On any other day it would have been reassuring. Today Nero hated it. It was a barely noticeable comfort in a disastrous situation, about as effective as a handjob received while hot pokers were shoved down his dick hole.

Ember hovered around the man’s sword hilt. She inspected the odd patterns etched into the metal with an inquisitive look on her yellow face.

Compared to Atix and him, the creature looked perfectly unbothered by the events of the day.

“So, everyone in this building, everyone I’ll meet, is dead?” He asked, breaking the silence with a question directed at Atix. It seemed the most important and reasonable thing to ask.

“Well, no.” He shook his head. “You’ll rarely meet an unshackled Damned out in the wild. Most people in the tower, if not all of them really, are several generations removed from those condemned to Damnation.”

It was refreshing, being able to think again. And also incredibly terrifying because he knew the exact question to ask next, and exactly what would come after it. “So what happens to the dead people?” He swallowed.

“Damned.” Atix corrected. “Death, real death happens here in the afterlife. It’s similar to what you’d expect in the physical plane, can be caused by anything from old age to disease. The only difference is here, sometimes it can be because a demon bug crawled up your asshole and exploded with the force of a grenade.”

Nero did well to keep the visual image of that happening to him nice and far away from his head. “And I’m guessing it’s permanent?” He asked and Atix nodded.

So he could still die. Nero didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. He wasn’t religious, never had been, but he knew enough to associate Hell with eternal suffering, so there was something to celebrate in knowing that his was only going to be for the rest of his finite life.

Yay.

There was a pause, and Nero realised that Atix hadn’t answered his question. “You still didn’t tell me what happens to the Damned.”

Theman took a deep breath then pulled his sleeve up. Just above his wrist and up his arm was a band of what looked like melted flesh. It was roughly five inches wide and only slightly greater in length.

“Depending on the weight of their sins, they appear in their circle, are bound by cuffs and forced to serve the rest of their lives as thralls to whichever Demon Lord bids the highest for their soul.”

Atix’s eyes were a distant thing now, looking through Nero and not at him. His own eyes on the other hand couldn’t leave the sight of Atix’s scarred flesh. “It’s not mind control if that’s what you’re thinking, but I wish it was. They wrap a cuff around your wrist, enchanted so if you don’t do whatever the keyholder orders you to, it burns like nothing you’ve ever imagined, burns so hot that you can’t help but obey. No matter what they make you do, no matter how heinous it is…. You obey.”

Atix was glaring now, with a scowl so vicious it looked more like a scar than an expression upon his face.

“But occasionally, whether through planning, determination or just plain old circumstance, some escape, and an even smaller fraction of that bunch, when the stars align just right, get to slit their Demon Lord’s throat in his fucking sleep.”

Nero was suddenly more aware of the sword which Ember sat gingerly on the hilt of.

He found a pit growing in his stomach. “And that’s what would have happened to me, if not for her?” He whispered, and Atix glanced to his hip, realising from where Nero was looking, that Ember must be somewhere on his person.

“Yes.” He nodded grimly, but it seemed there was more to say. He didn’t speak it, however.

Nero decided to prompt him. “You said we’re judged by the weight of our sins. I’m going to take a guess and say the sins get worse the deeper you go. So Where?”

Atix raised an eyebrow. “Wha-”

“Where was I headed to, it’s clear you know, it’s clear everyone in this building knows, so had she not saved me, where would I be?” He asked.

It was Atix’s turn to be on the backfoot of the conversation now. “I… You were on route to Tradimento, the ninth and last circle. But I do not believe that where the Demons decide to send a man is of any worth.”

Atix looked as if he was bracing for Nero’s reaction. A breakdown was likely in order, freaking out, denial, surely denial. All his bracing did not seem to prepare him for what actually came.

Nero shrugged. “Makes sense.”

You always were an overachiever.

“I- I see…” He said, looking as if he’d been hit in the head and didn’t know where he was.

Nero got to his feet, pacing now, it always helped him think. “So, this war, it’s about freeing humans from the Demons, yes?”

Atix nodded. “You’re the Lightweaver, destined saviour of mankind, your magic is uniquely potent against Demons.”

Magic, of course he had magic, this day just couldn’t get any weirder. “Alright then, I’ll help you.”

Atix wore shock once more. “You will?”

“I’ll need information though, a lot of it, on Hell, its people and obviously the fucking Demons.” He told him.

Atix was on his feet in moments. “The tower is old but I’m sure there are still texts of value within its libraries.”

“Perfect,” Nero grinned, take me to it.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Atix made his way to do just that and Nero followed him.

It was the wisest decision to make, he realised. Not the helping of course, no, but the act of lying through his teeth by saying he’d do so.

The library was in worse condition than Nero had expected, caked in what looked to be centuries of dust and coated with spiderwebs. These webs were blood red rather than white, however, and Nero shuddered at the thought of encountering the abomination that had spun them.

Still, it was usable, or at least usable enough. And the moment he was within it, he got to work. The first thing to note was that the texts were all in a language he could read.

It wasn’t English though, it wasn’t even a script he’d ever seen in his life, but the moment he saw it he knew exactly what each character symbolised and how they all came together.

It occurred to him that he was also speaking the dialect as well, he’d been speaking it since he got here and only noticed when he paid careful attention to what he was saying.

Like manual breathing.

It was disconcerting, interesting but not nearly as important as his real task here.

He’d asked for a guide to help him get up to speed on things. Which was a good idea as it turned out the library’s contents were perhaps half as old as its walls. That meant almost everything was outdated and he needed current information if his plan was going to have any chance of working.

That guide in particular had been a junior Inquisitor by the name of Alisan. She was a young woman, perhaps his age or a bit older and draped in the monk-like cloak the residents of this castle all seemed to wear.

She looked upon him with the same set of hopeful eyes that everyone else in the building seemed to hold.

It only served to make Nero feel worse about what he was going to do, but he couldn’t help but focus on the positives, it meant she’d be easy to trick into helping him.

People were easy to manipulate once you knew who they were, and no one was better at knowing people than Nero was. Perhaps in someone else’s hands they’d have used their gifts for good, but in Nero hands they were used for Nero things, Like using a zealot to unwittingly let you escape the reach of her association.

“I’ll need a map.” He smiled, and the woman hurriedly ransacked through shelves before pulling out one and rolling it out on the table. Like most things in here, it was aged and told him so with the yellows and browns around the edges.

The depiction of the landscape was not too dissimilar to what he’d seen when he stepped out onto the roof. They were in a castle in a tower, up on a hill and surrounded by thick forests on all sides.

Beyond the forests were settlements, Nero could see, but he needed a way to them that didn’t include him having to venture into the abyss itself.

“And everything save from this tower is Demon territory?” He asked, Alisan nodded grimly.

Ember floated over the depiction of a stream and followed its path through the map, stopping when she came upon a bridge.

He was about to tell her to float somewhere else when he realised that she’d landed on a cleared pathway carving through the forest and connected the tower to a town called Stradale.

“Wacha’ looking at?” Ember asked, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“The most likely path the Demons would come through.” He lied, tapping his finger on the bridge.

Alisan glanced at his finger, thought for a moment then shook her head. “Oh, we don’t need to worry about that, the bridge collapsed years ago.”

Nero smiled, wearing relief while doing his best not to swear loudly at the revelation that his safest route of exit was destroyed. “So… how did you get here?”

“Well, all twelve of us made our way through the Dark Forest, it couldn’t have been done without Atix’s help.” She explained.

That was new information, it meant this place wasn’t the permanent residence of the Inquisition.

It didn’t make getting out of here much less of a problem however, Nero very much doubted he’d be getting Atix’s help in escaping his fucking death cult.

“I see.” He nodded. “Is there a chance there’s a map of the tower here.”

Alisan nodded. “Oh, there is!” She smiled. “I’ll get it for you.” The woman said, running off to do just that.

She probably thinks you’re some kind of hero. Nero buried the guilt that welled within him. Alisan came back only a moment later, laying several sheets of paper atop the map.

They were the plans for the tower, he’d identified both the room he’d appeared in and the winding stairs that lead up to the roof.

“So you say there’s only twelve people in the building?” He asked.

Alisan nodded then hesitated. “Well thirteen now that you’re here.”

“Fourteen!” Ember pouted, not pleased to be dismissed.

“Fourteen.” Nero found himself correcting her. That brought a smile to Ember’s face.

Alisan looked distraught at the mistake, bowing her head dejectedly. “Yes, fourteen. Please forgive me for overlooking your Imp, Lightweaver.”

“It’s fine.” Nero said as non-awkwardly as he could manage. “So, she’s an Imp?” He asked.

“Well, that’s what she looked like when I saw her.” She answered. “You’d have to ask Atix what kind she is, he’s the one that summoned her, I couldn’t tell you for the life of me.” Alisan looked ashamed not to have been of more help.

He moved on from the topic quickly. “This gate, that’s the entrance yeah?” He asked. “Is it guarded?” He asked. To Nero it was the exit, but it was always better not to voice such things.

“Yes, two of our best mages stand guard, ready to ward off any Demon incursions.” Alisan said. He cursed his mind for recognising that the woman was trying to reassure him of his safety here. It made what he was doing feel all the more cruel.

“That’s good.” Nero nodded.

That meant he couldn’t sneak out through there.

He traced his hand across the plans and found a door that seemed to lead to nowhere. Nero shuffled the papers around and found that it was a secret passage into what seemed like an underground tunnel.

That was good, that was hope.

“And is that where all the guards are stationed?” He asked the woman, careful to keep his eyes from lingering on the secret passage.

Aison nodded. “Yes?” She frowned. “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing, I was just hoping more people would be at the gates.” Nero lied. From her response, that likely means they don’t know about the passage. That would be his escape route then. Nero felt the spark of hope burn within him but quickly snuffed it out. It was a dangerous thing to celebrate before a job is done.

That was what his boss used to say.

“We can station more guards at the gates if it’d help you feel more secure.” Alisan said, nearly tripping over herself with the haste of her words.

“That would be excellent.” He smiled. A good way to appease her and simultaneously make sure there were less people he could bump into when sneaking out.

Alisan beamed a smile that seemed almost designed to stab him through the heart with guilt. Nero ignored it.

“Is there anything else I could help you with Lightweaver?”

“No, not at all.” He shook his head. “You’ve been quite helpful.” He told her.

He didn’t know if this place had nights, but he had a suspicion that the people here slept. He’d make his move when that happened, and he’d be out of here.