Preparing for entry to Halschius was an involved process. What with having to secure the guests they were bringing with them and all.

However, Quinn had to admit that when the doors opened out onto the plains of Halschius, it was more than worth the effort.

It wasn’t fire and brimstone like she’d initially assumed it would be. Instead, it opened out onto plains of igneous rock that spread out before them. Hill formations and what looked like petrified trees dotted the landscape. In the distance, she could even see what she thought were waterfalls, or, to be more precise, lava falls. It was warm, very warm, and the air felt heavy, despite the fact that she was using an air filtration spell.

With the multicolored roaring suns in the distance lending a blood orange and purple-ish hue to the entire landscape... It was oddly scenic.

“Is this one of the three doors?” she turned and asked Eric, as the Library guards shuffled the prisoners through to the Halschius side of the opening.

“Yes,” Eric said, “this is one of the three doors. The king has his own, but this is one of the three the public have access to.”

Quinn nodded as she took in the landscape further. A serene and peaceful feeling washed over her despite the heat.

Frankly, with the amount of work Milaro made them do the evening before, she’d been quite apprehensive about visiting in the end. He’d drilled the protective spells they’d need into them. He wanted them armed with breathing magic that would prevent them from burning their trachea.

Apparently, the heat was so dense without the help that non-acclimated species took a lot of damage if not prepared. That was part of the reason Aradie wasn't accompanying her on this trip. It took a while to get the hang of, but Quinn was fairly certain she’d be able to maintain it even in her sleep, under pain of death, or while she herself was perhaps being tortured. Although the latter, considering how much she disliked pain, might be a stretch.

On top of the breathing assistance was the body cooling system they had to apply to themselves. It was a very odd spell that constantly leeched a very small amount of energy.

Spells it seemed, could be cast by anyone with magic and enough practice regardless of affinity. They were generally rudimentary. Abilities were directly tied only to affinities. It was a distinction she’d only learned the previous evening that left her feeling somewhat dense. Like she should have known it sooner.

Standing at the entrance to Halschius, she watched as her energy ticked up and down semi-regularly. Maintaining her body heat should be doable. From what everyone said, Halschius seemed to be one of the hottest places in the universe, or at least, one of the hottest she could visit without being charred instantly.

That was probably more accurate.

She watched as a few of the golems, security golems from the Library, ushered out the stasis blocks. She still couldn’t get over the fact that they looked like they were frozen in place by some sort of frosted glass. Adrito appeared to be in mid scream, while Tenejo’s eyes were closed. The latter looked positively peaceful. What a lie...

“They’ll be fine, Quinn,” Milaro said, his tone filled with reassurance. He stepped back into the Library. “We will maintain the door until you have been greeted and the golems can return.”

Quinn nodded. “Sure. Do you think they know we’re here?”

“Of course we know you’re here,” Ikeshal said, suddenly right there next to them.

Quinn turned around to see the... Well, he was about eight feet tall now. Not the six feet that Ikeshal had been when he’d been sitting in her conference room. She frowned. “You seem to have grown a bit.”

Ikeshal laughed, and it was a deep, growly noise. “You have a sense of humor, Librarian. I am simply in my true form here. It is easier to walk through doorways in your reality when I make myself ever so slightly smaller.”

Quinn nodded. “I can see that.”

“Anyway,” he looked at the blocks containing Adrito and Ikeshal up and down, “these are the prisoners?”

“Yes,” Quinn said, looking around and glancing back at Milaro. He waved her attention back. “We will see you when you return, Librarian. Take care of her, Ikeshal. I’ll hold you responsible.”

And the doors closed, leaving the Library completely cut off. Ikeshal still had a grimace on his face when Quinn turned her attention toward him.

“Ah, I see you’re not immune to Milaro’s threats either,” Quinn grinned at the satyr.

He laughed again, but it was more of a chuckle this time. He snapped his fingers twice and four imps, and four... She couldn’t quite give them a name out of her own mythological knowledge, so she inspected them.

This distance from the Library, all she got was a rudimentary breakdown. But she guessed everyone lived with the system, so this was probably what everyone was used to.

Name: Tilen

Species: Citriphosa

Region: Halschius - Origin - 2nd level

Status: Friendly

She watched them. They were similar to a centaur in that they had front and hind quarters. But they had two hind legs on each side, two front legs with one on each side, and then four arms in total. Between them, the four citriphosas hefted the large blocks and began to move them toward what looked like a teleporting pad that Quinn hadn’t noticed when they first stepped in. The imps gave directions and generally stayed out of the way. The portal was nestled between two of the petrified trees. She watched, curious.

“Are they taking them to hell?” she asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Ikeshal winked at her. “I am here to escort you. Our leader finds himself somewhat preoccupied right now and it may be better for me to accompany you to the palace farther down.”

Quinn glanced around. She could see houses back away from the main path, or what at least looked like some sort of living structure. They were more like low stone huts, but larger than a hut. More like stone hip roofed houses. She glanced around. Everything was so black and grey and red. And yet the sky with its amber and purple hues really offset it. She thought it would look extremely picturesque in a painting.

“What do you think, Librarian?”

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She shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I like it here. The warmth reminds me of some places I’ve called home. I think I’ll enjoy it here.”

Ikeshal laughed again, but this time it was a booming type. “I am sure Hal will be pleased to hear that,” he said. “Anyway, I will take you through the village on the way to his palace.”

They’d been walking a little while now and they crested a hill of igneous rock that was somehow spongy. Quinn could only hope that didn’t mean it was about to break through and plummet them into a river of lava.

Way to go there, overactive imagination.

But as they came up the other side of the hill, she saw the palace. The rock had somehow formed into this beautiful, well, it looked like a gothic castle. It had drippings off the spires that made it almost look liquid. There were sheens of iridescent blacks and greens and purples and reds that wove their way through all the rock.

It was quite breathtaking.

“Wow,” she said. “I did not expect to see that.”

“Nice view...” Malakai stood next to her with a look of pure contemplation on his face as he watched over the horizon.

“Yeah.” Quinn smiled.

“Now, my instructions,” Ikeshal said, clearing his throat as he glanced at Eric who crossed his arms and looked off in the distance as if he was sulking, “are to guide you to the town and have Eric take you to the reception chamber.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Is it like an official visit-y thing?”

“Well,” Ikeshal interjected, “you wanted to see his true height, and he had promised to show you. Thus, as you have come bearing gifts, I believe the only place he can truly show you his true size under some cover is in the reception chamber.”

Quinn nodded. “Anyway, shall we?”

They approached the village that lay in front of the massive Gothic castle. Everything around them had a hint of the same style. It wasn’t quite what Quinn would imagine from texts, drawings, and pictures of such castles, because everything was made out of Igneous rock, it seemed. At least it seemed that way to her. How they’d molded it like that, she didn’t know. Obviously, they could re-liquefy it, but how would they pour it to achieve those buildings? It all had a slightly-melted-in-the-oven-after-it-was-crafted look to it, and it was positively breathtaking.

There were stalls set up along the streets, not on both sides to cause crowds, but along one side all the way down. There were no vehicles to clog the streets either, but then, she guessed, people like the imps could fly. They probably didn’t require modes of transportation. She looked around, seeing approximately two or three dozen imps flitting about here and there. Their colors varied wildly, from deep red oranges through to the black type of red that Eric was. They were such a red-black-rainbow of different hues, and it just lent to the overall relaxing feel of the area. There were no screams in the distance either, so it definitely wasn’t the counterpart to hell she’d imagined. Sadly, the joke that she constantly had running through her head about it fell a little flat.

They walked through the stalls in the streets.

“Is that candy?” Quinn asked.

“It’s sort of candy,” Eric said, “is going to break your teeth, though. Yours aren’t strong enough to bite into it.”

“Okay,” Quinn said. “What crawled up your butt and died? You’re in the worst mood today. You came home! That’s not a good thing?”

“No, Quinn, no, it is not.”

“Okay, tell me about it when you’re ready, because it’s obviously impacting your already shining personality.” She grinned at him to try and take the sting out of the words.

Eric glared at her and then sighed. “I apologize, Librarian, I do not enjoy coming home.”

“Why not?”

“Because being a Librarian assistant is apparently not a noble enough profession for somebody in my family.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tell me, at some stage, what it is your family does, so that I can tell you how wrong they are.” She smiled.

Eric laughed. “I knew it. I should have told you sooner. You always make me laugh, Librarian, even if it’s because you’re being slightly naïve.”

“Whatever tickles your fancy,” Quinn said.

Malakai sighed. “Even with this body magic and the air filtration magic, it’s so hot here,” he said. He’d even twisted his long braid up into a sort of bun.

It made Quinn wish she had her phone and camera with her. But she’d left it back at the Library to finish charging. “Well, when you come from forests,” Quinn said, “I guess it’s pretty easy for you to feel really hot.”

“Exactly,” he said. “I’m not supposed to be here, in fire and brimstone and lava land.”

“Where are you supposed to be, then?”

“I’m supposed to be flitting around your damn Library, teaching you how to fight.”

“Well, how about we just flit around here and figure out who the hell is trying to kill us?”

“Well, I mean, that does sound pretty interesting, too,” he said, grinning, but sweat still beaded his brow. Malakai was trying valiantly not to let it get to him.

There were some odd things in this market that Quinn didn’t quite understand the origin of, nor how they were supposed to be used. “What’s this?” She asked, pointing to something that was long, and well, it looked like a horn.

“Well, what do you think it is?” Eric asked. “What does it look like?”

“Well, it looks sort of like a horn.”

“Exactly. Some of us, in these countless wars that we constantly wage on our brethren and closely or distantly related demons, we lose horns. These are prosthetics. They, once attached magically, act in a very similar way to the horns that some of us have lost,” Eric said, his voice unusually subdued for the smart-arsed little imp that he was.

“Oh,” Quinn said, “that’s kind of cool.”

“Yes, it is.” He sighed. “You know, if we didn’t lose them in wars to begin with.”

Eric’s anger was palpable and Quinn waited as they walked past another stall before speaking again. “Why do you wage so many wars?”

“It’s literally a satyr thing. Our entire quadrant is very closely related, all by blood, in one way or another, whether it’s been magically enhanced, created kind of like you, but not precisely, or, you know, your general old genetics. And basically, nobody is ever happy with whoever it is who is currently running the quadrant. And thus, there are wars all the bloody time.”

“Lots of death,” Quinn said.

“Hmm. Enough. And also not so much. It’s just bloody, and drawn out, and completely and utterly unnecessary.” Eric sighed. “We’re damn near impossible to kill, but we can be maimed.”

“Oh.” Quinn said, thinking that over. “Is that what your family does?”

“Yes,” Eric said. “They fight constantly. And I’m not a warrior. I’m a reader. I’m a researcher. I’m a ‘let’s find a way to not kill everybody and solve the problem at the same time’ sort of imp.”

“Well, Eric, I like your sort of imp the best,” Quinn said.

He actually flashed her a genuine smile. “I’ll remember that, when you’re, you know, angry at me next time.”

Quinn laughed. “You do that.”

They approached the Palace steps now, but Quinn didn’t feel intimidated by them, like she had on the Isle of Ishiposa. No, these steps actually felt welcoming, despite the fact that they were made out of rock. And black rock at that. There were several guards scattered around, but none of them paid her that much attention. They only inclined their heads toward the group as they made their way up.

Finally, Ikeshal bowed and took his leave as they entered the hall.

Quinn paused on the threshold, marveling at the candelabras that hung down from the ceiling. Massive monstrosities that she at first thought were lit by candles, but realized after closer inspection that they were a type of magical light instead. It glowed and flickered in an almost playful way.

“Lava sprites.” Eric offered when he saw where she was watching.

Quinn nodded, taking the rest of it in. The long, blood red carpet that led up steps to a throne and...

She gulped...

Hooves that were probably as big as her torso.

Standing at the end, in front of a massive throne that could probably fit the entire Library staff on it, was a fifteen-foot-tall satyr.

The massive and imposing satyr looked down at them all, a wide grin on his face. Quinn had never felt so tiny in her life.

He gave a flourishing bow and a decidedly impish grin. “I apologize for not greeting you immediately, Librarian, but I do so love the gifts you have brought.”