There was no ceiling in the Temple of Fortenex. Or, at the least, it was so high up that clouds had formed above them. Other than that, they appeared to be standing in a massive cathedral. Stained glass windows on the walls showed various bloody and horrific scenes. Heads on stakes, mass hangings, and many less pleasant things. They let in a bit of light at the very least, but it was somehow unpleasant.

It was to light what blood was to water. Both were a form of liquid. But one was cleansing, and the other a source of impurity.

He looked at the walls. The stonework was smooth cut and of a dark gray color. There were designs on it, too, of monstrous creatures of all kinds. Where was the demoness?

William looked up and saw her walking in the distance. He ran to catch up, but space didn't work the same way here. She couldn't have been doing anything more than walking. He was sprinting. So why couldn't he get any nearer to her?

Then she glanced up, and he reached her quickly. It only occurred then that he should not seek out her company. She'd tried to kill him many times, after all. Then again, he had no real allies in this situation, and she was the only person he knew who he might be able to work with. That was very, very sad. "So this is the Temple of Fortenex," he said. "I was expecting a lower ceiling."

"Karasush did tell you it was larger on the inside," mused the demoness.

"Yes, but I still didn't expect this," said William. "This is large, even for a temple."

"Well, Fortenex likes large buildings," said the demoness. "They make excellent places for battles."

"It seems to me that that is the last thing one should want in a temple," mused William.

"Oh, no one who worships Fortenex uses the temple for ceremonies," said the demoness. "Those all happen in the village. Fortenex tests his champions in the temple to see if they are worthy of his blessings. And also where warriors duel to the death.

"This is my second time inside one."

"Really?" asked William, "What was it like the first time?"

"Unpleasant," mused the demoness. "I lost my left arm."

William looked at her very much intact two arms. "I can tell."

"Oh, do shut up," said the demoness. "I can regenerate."

It was strange talking to her like this. She didn't seem to be putting on the same airs he'd seen from her before. And there was an oddly contemplative look on her face as they walked. Her blue eyes were not glowing quite so brightly; instead, they were in something of a smolder. It suddenly dawned on William that the demoness was very beautiful. Of course, it was feral and untamed, but it was there all the same. Her black skin was strange, but it didn't undermine her looks; it just made them more exotic. And her curves-

William turned his mind away from those particular assets. However vast, he refused to think of women in such a fashion. He'd trained himself not to.

"I know exactly why you are looking at me," mused the demoness.

Was he blushing? Time to change the subject. "So, we agree that Karasush intends to betray us the first chance he gets."

"Oh, almost certainly," said the demoness. "Fortenex is probably watching and applauding at his plan. He means to have me get the axe for him while you clean up his mess. He'll applaud just as loudly when I skin him alive, though. Father isn't one for playing favorites."

"Yes, I gathered from reading about him," said William. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"Not at all. I exist to answer your meaningless questions," replied the demoness. "By all means."

"You mentioned Melchious is a several times removed descendant from Fortenex?" said William.

"Yes," said the demoness. "I believe his great-grandmother had a tryst with Father."

"While you are his daughter." continued William.

"My mother was a powerful succubus second only to Zigildrazia," said the demoness, a hint of pride in her tone. "Amysta, the demonic archon of lust."

"Doesn't that make you Melchious' great aunt?" asked William. "Several times removed."

"I suppose it does," mused the demoness. "We demons don't pay much attention to family connections once they are more than one time removed. It causes too many headaches, and we don't value them much. Now, what precisely are you edging at?"

Right, an alliance. "I'm almost certain Karasush is going to try to have me killed after this is over. He can't have what he's done get out, and I doubt he's willing to accept my conditions. He agreed too quickly."

"My, you are almost intelligent, aren't you, dear?" asked the demoness.

"I'm suggesting that we ally," said William. "I'll help you get the Axe of Fortenex if you help me with my mission. And then we both work together to get away from Karasush." And then, without thinking, he offered her his hand. She stopped and looked at it for a moment.

"Now, that does sound vaguely appealing," she mused. "Very well." Her tail lashed out and wrapped around Wiliam's hand. It constricted around it until it hurt before being withdrawn. "Now, let us see what kind of trouble we can get into."

"Speaking of which, shouldn't we have run into some of that trouble by now?" asked William. "Where are the raishans?"

"Absent," said the demoness. "Karasush lied to you."

"Well, it isn't as though I can walk out now," muttered William. "Out of curiosity, do you have a name?"

"Not one I intend to disclose to you, no," said the demoness.

"Well, I can't call you demoness repeatedly, can I?" asked William. "We could run into another one of your kind."

"It hardly matters," she replied. "The vast majority of succubi are similar in personality. They're all the same. However, they emphasize a different aspect of the same general person. All the demonic species are like that."

"That sounds dull," mused William.

'Well, it makes predicting what they will do the essence of simplicity. Think what you would do, and you know their intentions." said the demoness. "Why do you think demons always try to manifest in the mortal world? There is no variety in hell; everything is all the same after a certain point."

"And what makes you different?" asked William.

"I have no loyalty to the cause of hell," said the demoness as though that explained everything.

"I was under the impression that demons have no loyalty at all," said William.

"For the most part, you are correct," said the demoness. "Our races all have an inherent devotion to mindless sin and pointless sadism. It allows us to unite against our enemies. With it, we'd get everything done.

"For my part, I see no value in it. My only plan is my own ascension. If I have to create a perfect world of peace and friendship to become the supreme being over all things, so be it. Though I confess, I would much prefer to see everything on fire.

"Most demons would rather reign in hell than serve in heaven. I would be perfectly willing to serve in heaven if it meant my eventual godhood."

"You don't believe all those proclamations of godhood, do you?" asked William suddenly.

"It has occurred to me that they may not be true," admitted the demoness. "On the other hand, they may. After all, if I do ever become omnipotent, it is only natural that I would exist beyond the realm of this universe. Indeed, I would have always had to have existed. I cannot prove or disprove what I believe; I can only have faith that it is true."

William felt strange for a moment. He reviewed the many stories Rusara had told him as a child. Then one, in particular, came to him. "Do you mind if I call you Arraxia?"

"Hmm?" asked the demoness.

"Arraxia was a Dust Elven lady; her name means defiance," said William. "You see, at the time, the Dust Elves were refugees in Escor. A Lord of Escor took a fancy to her. He demanded her as a consort, and her father, not desiring a war, agreed to give her.

"Outraged, Arraxia murdered her father and made war on the Lord. She killed him and many of his allies in many great victories. But the Lord's son went to his ally, my ancestor, Erik the Voyager. Erik the Voyager killed Arraxia and began a campaign to destroy the dust elves.

"But his nemesis, Rundas De Chevlon, took the Dust Elves part, and there was a great war. It grew, and all of Escor was consumed in flames."

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"Well, that does sound entertaining," mused the demoness. "Especially since you lost."

"No one won," said William. "House De Chevlon triumphed on the battlefield. House Gabriel was forced to flee to Haldren. But their most loyal lieutenant betrayed him before Rundas could make himself King. He was forced to flee to Antion. The Dust Elves went south to Antion as well. They were never popular. Eventually, they settled in the Dusk Lands, a barren region where few people dwell.

"Even the new King of Escor didn't do very well. He inherited a Kingdom ripped apart by war and more divided than ever. And how he gained his throne would stain his honor for years."

"Well, let no one say that the universe doesn't give happy endings," said the demoness. "What I do not understand is what the connection is?"

"Well, Arraxia hated the hand that fate had dealt her," said William. "And she responded by murdering thousands of people. Most of whom had only an indirect connection to the one who wronged her at best.

"It seemed like the sort of thing you'd do."

The demoness laughed. For all her false humor, it was the first time he'd heard her laugh, and it was strange. She laughed and laughed before finally calming down. Then her tail touched his shoulder. "I would prefer "My Queen," but I suppose if you must call me by a name, that one will do for now."

"I hope you are used to disappointment if you expect me ever to call you royalty, Arraxia," mused William.

"Yes, well, I've been used to disappointment for many years," mused Arraxia.

The temple had passed away. Now, they were walking through an endless maze of strange stonework. Looking back, William saw that the path behind them curved straight upwards. Yet, it did not level out. It reached upwards into a stormy green sky with black clouds. There was a tremor beneath their feet, a flash of light, and then the roar of lightning.

The path turned, and the walls closed behind them as they walked. They could not retrace their steps. Yet they saw no danger and faced no challenges — this confused William.

"You've asked me many questions, William," said Arraxia. "I think you owe me an answer of your own."

"That seems fair," said William.

"You have sworn your service to Elranor, have you not?" asked Arraxia. "If he commanded you to die for him, would you?"

William considered the question. He was a paladin of Elranor; it was his duty to serve him. And he knew Elranor would not ask for such a sacrifice lightly. He would only ask it if it were the right thing to do. But would William be willing to lay down his life? He wanted to say yes, but he wasn't sure. He wished he could say yes.

"If he called on me to die for him, I hope I would have the strength," said William.

"Yes, and you shall be called unto the Halls of Knights to sit beside your forefathers. No doubt to await the final battle when Smyngoth awakens, and the world ends" muttered Arraxia. 'Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, who cares about the details? It means you are giving up all you are for the sake of another.

"In essence, you are losing."

"That is an interesting way to think of it," said William.

"One is victorious when one's will is dominant over another," said Arraxia. "When one's will submits to another, then one is defeated. To give in willingly is to admit a defeat."

He should respond to that statement in terms she would understand. He wondered if proclaiming how serving others was the right thing to do would get him anywhere. "Yet there are rewards for service," mused William. "One can grow stronger, serving a greater being."

"Of course, one must accept defeats occasionally for a greater victory," mused Arraxia. "That is why I served Melchious for years before I turned the tables on him."

"What if you lose, though?" asked William.

Arraxia blinked. "I don't."

The hallways gave way, and they emerged out into a city. It reminded William of the city he had seen in Kiyora's world. Yet, instead of being grown from the roots of trees, it was formed from stone. Yet William could see no sign of mortar. It was as though someone had carved these buildings out of existing stone. There was also floating masonry here or there. He saw one huge chunk fall from the sky. It descended into nothingness and rose again like a leaf blown by a gust of wind.

The path they were on was a raised one, hugging the buildings. Now that William thought of it, there was no way to know if this was halfway up. There was mist a little way down obscuring the bottom, and there could be ground beneath it or nothing at all.

The sky was bright green, and William couldn't see the sun or clouds anywhere. It was unnerving, and he kept his gaze near his feet as they walked. This was for the best since their path proved dangerous at best. Sometimes, they would come to great gaps. These William would have to step around. Other times, the stones floating above them would drop, and he'd have to dodge them or ward them off with his shield.

Finally, they came to a far too wide gap to jump. There was also no way around it. An entire segment of the walkway had fallen away. Apraxia flew over it while he sheathed his sword and slung his shield over his back.

Walking to the building wall, he felt it. The stonework here was rough. He could scale this, and at once, he began to do so. He hadn't gotten far before he started to regret the decision. He'd long ago become experienced in scaling walls and cliffs. He'd done it enough in his old home of Carn Gable. But he'd never been wearing full armor while doing it before. An ordinary person would never have managed it.

William thanked his heritage for his greater strength. He also cursed that every passing moment was nearly impossible to get through. Finding footholds was hard, and keeping them in all this armor was harder. He felt sweat drip down his brow and soak his garments as he reached the halfway point. He was halfway there. Just a little farther.

Then, lightning struck the building above him. The top shattered. Vast stones were thrown skyward, falling toward him, and he clung to the wall, praying for the best. A rock hit him on the helmet, and he almost lost his grip. He was slipping backward. Groping unthinkingly, he caught hold of the wall and pulled himself back.

William wished that had been the end of it. But he had to scale the rest of the way on his own. Finally, he got off the wall and stepped onto the flagstones. Arraxia said nothing. Instead, she turned and walked onward.

Actually, they said nothing at all about the journey to that city. Time itself seemed a meaningless concept here. Things just happened without any particular place. It was neither cold nor hot. They could have been in this place a day, a year, or a thousand years. No matter how long William doubted, it would not seem any different to them. The city around them looked different from the kind of place someone should speak in. Yet, at the same time, the silence was unbearable.

The buildings grew larger as they walked closer together. Lightning continued to strike, but never over them as it had before. Soon, the buildings were so close that one could reach either side and touch both. The city had become a tunnel leading downwards.

William felt trapped, like he was in a cage that kept getting smaller. The silence was unbearable. "Arraxia," said William. "If Melchious is here, can we defeat him?"

"Anything is possible, should I will it," mused Arraxia.

"Would this be the same way you could get me to sell you my soul?" asked William. "Or possible that I might kill myself after looking into the Mirror of Laevian? Or possible that you might succeed in killing me afterward?" It was a relief to have this conversation.

"My, you enjoy defying me," mused Arraxia. "It is obvious that the being whom I am an incarnation of had some use for you. Thus, it is arranged for your survival. One might say you owe me your life."

"No, I owe Kiyora and Elranor my life," said William irritatedly. "And even if we accept what you say is true, you were saving me from dangers you put me in in the first place."

"It was for your good," said the demoness.

"I disagree," said William. "The scar over my eye pains me to this day."

"That scar is but a symbol of your power," said Arraxia. "Imagine a world where I never directed the satyrs to ambush that vessel. You would have arrived in Artarq as spineless and directionless as you began. You would likely have been returned to Carn Gable without proving your worth. You wouldn't have learned anything. At best, you would have been a tagalong to Raynald.

"Perhaps you might have grown in time, but it would have been years in the making. Look at your life now, my dear William. You have built temples, slain monsters, written a book, and hardly turned fifteen.

"What would you have been if not for me?

"So you see, I am in many ways your benefactor."

That was pressing the matter too far. "Far from it," said William. "Elranor is my guide, my benefactor. He used you to force me to grow up. You are trying to tempt me away from his path with your lies."

"Am I lying?" asked Arraxia. "I've read your book; I found it quite an entertaining chronicle of my rise to power. You're fascinated by me. All the hollow bravado doesn't change the truth written in your words."

"I am not fascinated by you!" snapped William. "What you misread was a pity for a delusion animal."

"Oh?" asked Arraxia, turning around to cup his cheek. It felt predatory. "You've enjoyed our verbal sparring as much I have. And weren't you quick to agree to this, even knowing it would benefit my plans?"

"I had few options," noted William, shoving her claw away.

"Helping my master's enemies so I can survive sounds reasonable," said Arraxia. "But I was under the impression that you held yourself to a higher standard."

"This has been too easy," said William, looking to change the subject.

"Hmm?" asked Arraxia.

"This," said William. "We've been walking into the heart of the temple, and we haven't run into anything. Why hasn't something tried to stop us?"

"Well, Melchious was here first," mused Arraxia. "I suspect he passed all the tests for us. It will make it all the more satisfying to crush him."

"Well, I don't see him anywhere," said William.

The path opened into a vast, circular chamber open to the sky. At the very center of it was a brilliant red flame, shooting light upwards into the air. William averted his gaze from the brilliance of it. Then, listening to its crackle, he heard screaming — screams of fear, agony, pain, and death. An axe was at the center of the flame, though he could make little out of it.

"Do you think this is the beacon?" asked Arraxia.

"Well, the pillar of unholy light and the screams of tormented souls might be a sign," mused William.

"Yes, and they seem to be blocking my path to the Axe of Fortenex," said Arraxia. "Would you be so kind as to deal with this, dear?"

"But of course, milady. What could make me think we might be at cross purposes?" asked William. "Stand by the far wall where I can see you first."

The demoness obeyed, and William removed his harp. Strangely, it did not glow as brightly as it once had. He supposed it made sense; he'd been playing it a lot. He'd always hated music, though, despised even the most beautiful symphony. The screams of his enemies were far preferable.

What? Why was he thinking that?

William began to play the harp, setting his will against the beacon. Yet, instead of facing resistance, he passed right on into the center of it. The beacon accepted his presence as though he was its master. But why would it? Melchious had created it.

"So that's who I am..." he heard himself murmur.

The beacon died. And in its place was the Axe of Fortenex. It was magnificent, a two-handed axe made of red steel, as red as blood. It had an edge sharp enough to cut through the skulls of thousands. It was greater than anything he had seen before. No, that wasn't right; he had seen it before. Long ago, and now he was reclaiming it.

Yet, first, things had to take their course.

Sure enough, that miserable demoness was walking forward to take it as though she had been born for it. What lunacy. She would never have amounted to anything without him. He could scarcely contain his fury as she grabbed the axe without ceremony and flourished it.

"Well, you have a remarkable talent for advancing my goals," said the wretched creature. "I thought you might end up being someone else's pawn today. Still, I'm surprised. Nothing. No trap. Nothing. I'm honestly rather disappointed in Father-"

"Not as disappointed in you as I was," William heard himself say.

Arraxia barely had time to move before William drove his blade into her back. She looked back and saw him, the real him unhindered by flesh and blood, and she knew fear. He could almost taste it.

She said his name.

"Melchious."