V2 Chapter 11: The Melancholy of a certain Demon Lord
The moment when silver flame spewed upon the Great Throne and lit the world of the Immortals with its brilliance, all eyes turned at the great Sun, where the Throne Room of Naharis located, spectating the strange phenomenon.
Standing in the center of his garden of dancing stones, “The world is filled with footprints and fingerprints,” Magnamor the Demon Lord of a Thousand Burning Eyes whispered his usual phrase as all of his eyes directed at the dancing silver flame. His voice was cold with worry and ill-omen as usual. Every strange phenomenon in the world of Escana and the nine realms of spirits that happened, is happening and will happen, can be explained with that single phrase of his.
Witnessing the same scene, his children, the All-seeing demons of Magnamor, who gathered around him in the garden, repeated the same phrase among themselves, carving the phrase into their heart anew. That was Magnamor’s one and only teaching. Unlike the other Demon Lords, Magnamor did not ask much of his children or his worshippers, only, “The world is filled with footprints and fingerprints, do your best to remember that.”
Every Demon Lord and God had their unique teaching, the fruit of their experience and wisdom from living an endless life.
For Lust, it would be, “Dream well.”
For Flokí, “Smile.”
For Sinintee, “Be Great, be Civilized or ash and bones.”
“The world is filled with footprints and fingerprints.” That was the fruit of wisdom and experiences that Magnamor has cultivated. But, Magnamor has never explained the meaning of that phrase to his children and worshipers, fearing the consequence of such action.
The truth is always costly. If one had no mean to pay that cost, one should not pursue the truth. And yet, Magnamor was born with a thousand eyes. The truth presented to him whether he wanted to look at it or not. Even if Magnamor closed his eyes, even if he blinded himself, he could not Unsee the truth. Neither had Magnamor the strength to confront the truth, therefore, sewing his own mouth was always the best option after pretending to be stupid.
The more Magnamor looked at the dancing silver flame, the more dreaded he became. He saw the fingerprints of URLOX all over the flame. That flame was the will of URLOX, not Naharis’ will. Magnamor had no idea if the other Demon Lord would arrive at this truth or not. But it never ended well with URLOX.
URLOX impregnated anything they touched with chaos and madness, the worst kind of chaos and the worst form of madness.
Magnamor could only brace himself for the worst to come. When the dancing silver flame receded into nothingness, words appeared on the Great Throne of Kings, a prophecy. Magnamor froze and he froze for a long time. His thought returned to the time when he first discovered URLOX’s Hall of Champions.
At the time, Magnamor was tracing after a certain person’s footprints in the ignorance of his curiosity. He stumbled upon URLOX’s Hall of Champions or the Hall of Fame in URLOX's words.
Twin lavishly decorated gates welcomed Magnamor, bronze statues of Niwdar’s daughters guarding them in two columns. Magnamor immediately knew that he was standing in the place, where he was not meant to be. And yet, the ignorance of youth and curiosity led Magnamor into that chamber, following that phantom trail of footprints.
When Magnamor opened the gates, golden light slowly lit up, revealing a dim narrow corridor tiled in black timbers and golden rim red carpets. Magnamor followed the trail of footprints, entering the corridor, his brain ringing with alarms. With very step Magnamor took, a transparent tube of glass lit on either side of the wall, revealing a new legend. Aurus of IGTN, he was among the first champions of URLOX. His story was told to Magnamor briefly through a deep voice and a self-animating picture. He was the first legend.
Many followed after Aurus, each of them a legend and a celebrated champion of URLOX. Magnamor learned their name, their face, their flag, their handprint, their legend and the reason why URLOX enshrined them in the Hall of Champions. As he kept walking through the dimly lit corridor, following after that phantom trail of footprints, Magnamor learned of another world, a different world, a place where URLOX resided and appeared in their avatar form and where the champions of URLOX existed.
With his tenth turn, Magnamor could see the other end of the timbered tiled corridor. He walked, slowly, the ringing in his brain became louder than ever. A pitch black monolith greeted Magnamor’s brazenness,
By the golden light of hundreds burning torches and glimmering glassy tubes, the Great Throne of Kings towered in gloom, casting an oppressive and stretching shadow upon the hall. It was the Throne Room of Naharis as every Demon Lord would know, but different, a different throne room existed in the other world. Sitting on the Great Throne, hollow eye sockets stared at Magnamor from an ivory fleshless skull. The Crown of Elements rested atop the hollow sockets. But that was about the only resemblance that this throne room had with Naharis’ Throne Room.
From the dome-shape high ceiling, twenty-three great banners hung under the brilliance of a giant ring of crystal chandeliers, decorated the walls with sigil and colors. Magnamor could identify these twenty-three banners for their legends and story intertwined with those champions whose legends hung on the timbered corridor. There was the golden crown of feathers on a purple background of GAM. There were the black and white crossing swords of A.G. There was the silhouette of the swordswoman on a golden field of AE. Among them, the most celebrated banner of five hands hung in black and gold.
And there, a lonely statue stood in the center of everything, basking under the brilliance of a thousand shimmering stars, braving against the stretching shadow of the Great Throne. Magnamor knew who that person was. The sigil of five hands carved on his lonely back, his name rested beneath, Fearless, URLOX’s most beloved champion according to many, a flag in each of his hand.
Magnamor took the time to learn all twenty-three legends existing in the hall. Great Ones they were, immeasurably so. Each of them left behind a towering legacy. It was not for no reason that URLOX celebrated them differently from the rest of their enshrined champions. Only when he has learned the identity and legends of the great twenty-three, he approached the lonely statue.
A tiny monolith stood before the Prince of The Alliance. There were two distinct sources of fingerprints on the small monolith, invisible they were, to all eyes but Magnamor’s. The trail of footprints that led Magnamor into URLOX’s Hall of Champions belonged to one source. Magnamor could identify both sources. The Demon Lord of A Thousand Burning Eyes was stupefied at the pieces of evidence presenting to his eyes.
There were two Immortals, who have discovered this hall before he did.
One of them was Mistress Death, the Corpse Queen herself, the person whose trail led Magnamor into the Hall of Champions. The other was Eogaill, the Goddess of Light, Truth and Wisdom, someone who has supposedly locked herself forever inside her library from the dawn of time. That was the first piece of evidence regarding the real Truth that Magnamor has collected.
Magnamor broke into cold sweats as forbidding truths reached him. Slowly, Magnamor put his hand on the self-animating picture on top of the tiny monolith.
Nightmare, the God of God Among Men appeared on the picture and declared with absolute confidence. “When the Garuda of the Sacred Mountain took flight, Escana shall hear the true might of the God of GAM.”
S0rr0w, the Demon Lord of Lavatein appeared out of thin air, standing next to the God of GAM, laughing, “When the scourge of war split Escana apart, the world shall know the terrors of the Demon Lord of the Lavatein.”
“When talents unite, Escana shall witness the mind of the King of The Alliance.” FY, The King of The Alliance arrived, adjusted his thick-framed glasses and boasted.
Orithyia the Queen of the Amazon Electronic entered the scene on high heels and solemnly swore. “When war drums for the ultimate battle sound, the Queen of the Amazon Electronic would send her enemies to the Great Hall of Death.”
“When champions are forgotten, the Jack of the Ancient Gods would remind Escana of their chosen heroes,” Superior, the Jack of the Ancient Gods joined the fray last and asserted.
Then, in harmony, five of the greatest champions of URLOX declared, “But, the Prince of The Alliance only needs to smile.”
At the time, Magnamor took the praise that these five champions of URLOX reserved the Prince of The Alliance with a grain of salt, for the Prince was their beloved friend and rival. That memory blurred out on Magnamor’s vision, replacing with the prophecy written on the Great Throne.
URLOX sent their most beloved champion.
While most Demon Lords were guessing the identity of The Prince in great urgency and confusion, Magnamor became frozen in his thought.
Upon the 14th great eclipse,
A prince shall arrive.
All the nine planes of spirits shall know his name,
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Escana shall be painted in his color,
For whoever has him
Shall win the Throne.
With Death’s permission, most jumped, diving from one Divine Dream to another Divine Dream, and searching endlessly for the clue regarding the Prince mentioned in the prophecy. The hourglass signaling the next round of Reign of Chaos was slowly filling in its bottom half, but nobody had any result from their dream diving technique, not even Lust.
Some conjectured that The Prince was still in his fetus form, a baby in his mother’s womb, thus eying pregnant women, who have conceived a child of royal blood in their belly and approaching their due date. Some argued that The Prince is a person who would be coronated on the 14th great eclipse. Some stayed quiet, scheming in the dark. Some secretly spread their pawns and pieces to search for The Prince without even knowing who he was.
Magnamor alone sat in his garden of dancing stone, sweating as he observed the invisible trails of fingerprints that URLOX have left behind on Escana. Ominous trails they were, all led to the Tomb of Naharis located in the Northern Continent. Quietly, Magnamor sneaked in his piece as well, an eye among his 1000 eyes.
The moment when the Sun, Escana and the nine planes of spirits aligned in a perfect straight for the 14th time, Magnamor almost answered his summon, almost.
The person, who was supposed to lock herself inside her library, was there. The Goddess who does not matter was already there. The Lady of Light was already there.
The Arbiter of The Reign of Chaos was already there as well. Mistress Death was already there before the Magnamor’s eye revealed the scene to him.
The Prince was in the middle of them, lying on the altar, sleeping while the two goddesses battled each other within the thin confinement of room.
Black moths took flight, separated from the long hems of Mistress Death’s gown, sailing toward the Lady of Light with impunity. Halos of brilliance appeared out of thin air and cut the black wings down with precision and speed. Ivory spires struck out from Death’s shadow, a globe of darkness appeared and erased them all. Inside Death’s pallid fingers, the Marthias flowers bloomed, slowly filling the room with the white color of their petals. A sound barrier appeared, pushing Death’s favorite flowers back at her.
Amidst such chaos, the Prince slept in a cold stasis under the divine protection of Death’s blessings and the Lady of Light’s miracles.
Spells flew back and forth, miracles negated miracles, powers clashed against powers, and authorities erode authorities. Magnamor immediately realized that he was looking at something he was not meant to see.
As her face colored with ardent thoughts, Death arced her scythe. Masked in her indifference, the Lady of Light defended herself with the swords of light. Not a single word exchanged between the two of them.
Neither side gave ground to each other, yet neither attacked with their full strength for their awareness of Magnamor’s presence and The Prince’s safety, not that Magnamor would dare to do anything. He was frozen on his throne, cursing his curiosity, wishing that he could unsee everything. He desperately tried closing his eye, the eye that he left on Escana. But, needles of light sealed his eye from closing and the Marthias flower petals prevented him from recalling his eye to Kharigan.
For what it appeared to be an eon of time, the two women ceased their battle, concluding that their battle would go on forever. In monotone, the Lady of Light relinquished the right to enter The Prince’s dream first to Mistress Death. Mistress Death nodded her head and offered her words of gratitude.
Then, in perfect harmony, they turned their sight at Magnamor’s eye. Panicked, Magnamor detonated the eye that he has left on Escana before his better reasoning could tell him to give the two women his oath of silence.
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A black moth visited Magnamor in his palace, Magnamor immediately swore his oath of silence in cold sweats and red tears. But, no matter how long he waited, the Lady of Light has never sent her messenger.
Since, Magnamor has spent every single breathing moment of his living in fear, not an unusual sight to his children. While some factionless Demon Lords were gambling with their chance, naming a newborn boy their warlord and hoping that their newborn baby would grow up to be The Prince, Magnamor was quivering on his throne. While Death announced the beginning of a new round of Reign of Chaos, Magnamor was shutting himself inside his palace, completely drenched in the red of his tears while waiting for the arrival of the messenger of the Lady of Light. While Demon Lords of various factions started naming their champion, reserving the right to name the still-unknown-Prince as the champion to their leader, Magnamor was beside himself with dread and terror.
While the messenger of the Lady of Light did not come to visit Magnamor’s palace, a row of messengers knocked on the door of his palace instead.
Leaders and members of various Demon Lord’s factions sent their messenger, welcoming Magnamor to their respective faction in the new round of Reign of Chaos with death threats. Immortals are unkillable, as long as the constitution of their immortality remains intact and as long as they don’t upset Death. The constitution of Magnamor’s immortality was the throne that the Lonely Demon Lord- the first Demon Lord- Munezee built for him from the red stones of Kharigan.
Even though Magnamor could not see them, her fingerprints, but he has deducted that the Lady of Light was behind this predicament of his. Realizing that he was being tested, Magnamor summoned his courage and dispatched his messengers to various factions, telling every faction that he would submit his right of inheritance to Death and withdraw his name from the Reign of Chaos.
Then, Magnamor handed over a fragment of the key to Naharis Throne room inside him to Death under the witness of all of the participants of the Reign of Chaos, just like the Lady of Light once did.
And yet, death threats under the guise of invitation letters still came after him. The other Demon Lords realized that Magnamor’s thousand eyes and his All-seeing demons could point out the identity of the real Prince mentioned in the prophecy. In the pit of despair, Magnamor started counting his days with his tentacles.
And then, the fifth Valkyria carelessly left a trace to The Prince to everyone involved with the Reign of Chaos. Just like that, Magnamor’s life was spared for passing the Lady of Light’s test.
Death revealed and shared the record of the fifth Valkyria’s Divine Dream when she was inside the Prince’s head to the participants of the Reign of Chaos. During that time, Magnamor retired in his palace and observing a wave of ill-news washed over Kharigan.
Those, who gambled, either naming a newborn baby or announcing a newly coronated boy as their champion, they were as angry as Wrath and as mad as Sanguine. Those, who have already named their champion due to the urgency of time, were even madder and angrier. The Xaara’s faction that belonged to the White Snake- the Quick Demon Lord, they have foolishly dismissed the prophecy and the existence of the Prince. They had already named five champions for their faction, all which have set their base in the Southern Continent. They were beside themselves with restlessness and rage. They rushed their assassins to chase after The Prince. Magnamor could not calculate when those assassins would reach the Prince. The last time that Magnamor was watching, they were still rowing their ships, one continent away from reaching the Prince. Magnamor was sure that Xaara and his faction have already given up thinking altogether.
Among the three deities, Niwdar alone has yet to name her champion.
Niwdar broke her own rule of naming a woman as her champion, and five Demon Lords of five great factions, they named The Prince as their Champion all at the same time. Mistress Death paused the Reign of Chaos and told them to sort out their problem among themselves. These five great factions geared up for a war between Demon Lords for the second time. And then, there were those who waited for these factions to destroy themselves and for Mistress Death to resume the Great Game to name the Prince their champion.
It was chaos and madness just like Magnamor has predicted. URLOX impregnated everything they touched with the worst form of madness and chaos.
“None of us shall choose him,” declared Munezee.
“But that bitch Niwdar would choose him.”
“We cannot let her choose him.”
“We cannot let her sit on the throne.”
Voices of dissent countered Munezee’s decision. For days, the argument went back and forth.
“That bitch doesn’t want to name a male her champion either. How about I strike a deal with her and talk her out of it? Let’s say that we cut this human into equal pieces for each and every single one us to own. This prophecy says, whoever has him Shall win the Throne. See? This way, we all will have an equal chance of winning the throne.” Flokí smiled, offering everyone his wisdom.
On that day, everyone but Lust and Magnamor voiced their agreement with Flokí’s wisdom.
Had Munezee not intervene, had Flokí not whisper his solution to the great dilemma to the Demon Lords, the Lady of Light would have attained the result that she so much desired, another war among the Demon Lords. And nobody would have realized that she was responsible for that.
And when that decision was written in stone, Flokí presented his solution to Mistress Death. It was brief, but the cadaveric mask of Death betrayed a delight expression of a maiden.
“If you all don’t want him, I will take him,” Death said, callously. Her face was empty of thought or emotion when she said that. She has totally expected Flokí to give that kind of solution.
Chaos ensued, just as madness did. Magnamor could see the fingerprint of Eogaill and URLOX all over the place. He kept quiet.
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Wonten’s champion was the first to be eliminated from the current round of the game. He was killed after knowing the Prince for only three days, his entire faction with him in the most outrageous manner. But instead of deterring the Demon Lords from choosing him, the Prince made the Demon Lords around Magnamor believed that they have made a major mistake for listening to Flokí’s solution. Even Flokí showed sign of regret.
A mad bunch, the lot of them.
Magnamor had no ear. He listened with his feelers. And unlike Sanguine or Yasubotay or Munezee, Magnamor only had twenty pairs of them. And yet, he could understand the warnings that The Prince fired off every now and then.
“Don’t pick a fight with me, especially in my dream.”
“Stay away from me.”
“Don’t involve me with your game.”
“I am Fearless. Do you understand what Fearless mean?”
“What makes you think you can win a fight with me?”
“If you pick a fight with me, you would look like these worms.”
It was as if the Prince spoke to Magnamor in a different language, a kind of language that nobody else understood. That or everyone else other than Magnamor was deaf, including Death.
If that gruesome ending of Wonten’s champion, if listening to the Prince’s warning and if viewing the Prince’s reconstructed memory could not convince a person that the Prince was to be untouched, perhaps, only looking at him with Magnamor’s eyes will.
From the tip of his hair to the end of his toes, the Prince clad in the phantom of Death’s fingerprints and lip-prints. He was marked by Death. He was claimed by Death. The specter of Death’s lip-prints colored the Prince’s lips as if to erode that sensual long stretch of Eogaill’s fingerprint on them. Anybody, who tries to touch someone like that, was only asking for an agonizingly long trip to the black moon.
Magnamor has decided that he would hole up inside his palace and forget everything. He called his children to return to Kharigan. He has decided to stay away from Escana as far as possible and forget that the Prince existed.
Magnamor has never seen someone who attracted and gathered such chaos and madness around him. Being URLOX’s most beloved champion, being the center of Death’s affection, being a target of the Truth, such a person should not exist.
Then, as fate has announced it, a messenger arrived, a small halo of light with three sets of wings. On the bright halo, pure darkness danced and formed words
Magnamor teared up on his throne. His feelers tore his own flesh and ripped out his eyes, but even so, the pain did not come to Magnamor due to his heightened state of hysteria. His children thought he has gone mad.
Magnamor preferred going mad over entering the Prince’s mind.
Magnamor wished he could unsee the Truth. He wished he was born blinded and stupid.