Te’Bol hated the tunnels. It was not natural for man to be so high up, so far away from the All-Being. That was why he had to go and save Velnor. No son of his was going to lose his soul to the nether.
Slowly, Te’Bol made his way up the ladder, each new rung heightening the terror he tried to keep down. He could hear his breath coming in short quick gasps through the respirator. It was hard work climbing with only one free hand. The suit he borrowed from the miners was to bulky to make it possible to grab both the ladder and the stun cable at the same time.
He knew it was his fault that Velnor was up there now. Te’Bol should have been more firm with his son the first time he had gone into the nether. The Pryarch said that spending more time in study was all that Velnor needed, and Te’Bol had been a fool to believe him. He knew that his son continued to go up to the nether, but the fool of a Pryarch kept saying to let him deal with that matter. Now Velnor was gone, up in the nether for almost a full cycle. When Te’Bol had confronted him about it, suggesting that it should be the Pryarch’s job to get Velnor back, the old man had only turned pale. He finally gave Te’Bol permission to do things his way. This was why he now found himself farther away from the All-Being’s fires than ever before.
Slowly and carefully he worked his way up the ladder, following the path the Pryarch had described. It was slow going, the suit was not made for quick movements, but worry about his son kept him moving upward. Up and up he went, never stopping, never slowing until he reached end of the world, and stepped into the nether.
The first thing he noticed was the cold. Te’Bol knew it would be cold of course-- how could there be warmth in a place without the All-Being?—be he did not expect it would get so cold so quickly. For a flash he thought of turning back, telling his wife that Velnor had been lost to the nether, his soul forever removed from the All-Being, but before he was even done thinking it, Te’Bol discarded it. He was going to save his son, and bring him back to the fires.
Te’Bol took one tentative step out of the cave, and finding that his body still contained a soul, took a second, more confident one. When he realized that he was not in imminent danger of losing his soul, Te’Bol began to hurry across the surface of the nether. To the lights glittering in the nether, he paid no attention; his only goal was to save his son. He tried to shout Velnor’s name, but the nether ate up his words before he himself could even hear them.
He climbed up a boulder, hoping to be able to spot his son from up high, and saw the ship. For as long as he would live, Te’Bol would remember its demonic shape. The hard edges, the razor sharp fins, all of it was etched firmly in his mind. Now more than ever Te’Bol wanted to run away, leave the evil ship to the nether, but he knew he couldn’t. His son was in that monstrosity, he knew that fact to his core.
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Couching low, Te’Bol made his way towards the demonic vessel. It loomed over him, and he could feel its evil ebbing out in waves around him. When he got close enough, an opening appeared in its side. Te’Bol readied his stun cable, expecting that at any moment demons would come pouring out. Instead, only a soft light came through the doorway. Seconds went by, and no demonic horde appeared. Te’Bol cautiously made his way into the doorway and aboard the demon vessel.
For something that was supposed to be infinitely cold, Te’Bol found the inside of the vessel incredibly warm, almost comfortable. The same soft light around the doorway went on as far as he could see. He took a step forward and heard a quiet whoosh behind him as the doorway closed again. Te’Bol was now completely trapped inside the demon ship.
He was inside a hallway. On one side the hallway quickly ended in a closed door. On the other side, it continued. Te’Bol went down the door-less path, stun cable at the ready. The boots of the mining suit made sharp clacking sounds that he feared the demons on board would hear, but still none came. Te’Bol had begun to believe that there was no one on this ship, that Velnor was somewhere else, when he heard voices.
They were coming from a little farther down the ship. Te’Bol tried to make out what they were saying, but the voices were muffled, as if they were behind a wall. The puffs from the regulator were coming quickly, and Te’Bol had to think to slow his breathing back to a normal rate. He moved more cautiously now, taking care to keep his footsteps quiet. If those demons were doing something to his son, he would make sure they regretted it.
The voices grew louder, as he rounded a corner, then suddenly there they were. There were three demons, all with their backs to him, sitting in a circle. Velnor was in the center of the circle. His mining suit was off, and he was talking. Something was wrong with Te’Bol’s helmet so what was said was lost to him. He was glad though he did not have to hear his son plead for his soul.
When Te’Bol entered rounded the corner, Velnor looked up. The shock of seeing his father come to rescue him seemed too much for him bare. Velnor’s look of surprise turned to horror Te’Bol raised the stun cable. It was clear now to Te’Bol that the demons had already begun to steal his son’s soul. That was why his suit was off.
The demons, noticing Velnor’s expression, turned and looked behind them. As they did, Te’Bol realized that his son was already lost, his soul sucked out of his body, and into the demons’. The best he could hope for now was to keep the demons from stealing the souls of anyone else. With the full strength of a man used to years of hard work, he brought the stun cable down onto the closet demon. Hitting a face that mirrored his own.