-Pope Helod-
I sipped my wine, looking down from my balcony atop the highest position in the entire citadel. Even the glorious contained sun stood below me, shining light on all the people who devoutly followed my guidance. I noticed a platform slowly drifting up towards him. Those riding wouldn’t be able to see anything behind the blinding light, but he could clearly see who was coming. A soft smirk crept onto my lips. Just another privilege of power as another chosen one was guided from the normal path to him on trumped-up, exaggerated issues. As pope, my authority on internal issues was almost absolute; so long as no exaggerated issues cropped up, I could do just about anything I pleased.
My thoughts drift back towards the early days that eventually led to my ascension. The citadel had been a much different place back then under the previous pope, a strict man with an obsession for literal interpretation of the holy decrees. I managed to slip in seeking glory and power. The chosen in charge at the time had no way of testing for divinity; in fact, it was originally against the decrees to bar the entry of any seeking admittance. Such openings left the faith rife with pretenders and traitors. Through what could only have been divine guidance, I was admitted into the internal heresy inquisition. The Inquisition was an order centered around the heretical abuse of divine power.
It was in the service of the Inquisition rooting out a cult inside the citadel that I found the key to my ascension. A band of recently admitted outsiders came to the citadel seeking guidance just like so many others, but they also brought with them a book written in blood and human skin. The summoner’s tome was written by someone or something called Mammon. The others ran down the cult, and I was left to erase the ritual they had set up. I did my duty cleaning the scene, but curiosity or perhaps a secret design had me smuggle away the book.
I didn’t read it immediately; some part of me at that time was apprehensive of the consequences. That changed after I participated in my first demon extermination mission. A low-risk hunt of a demonized rabbit: three paladins, a priest, and I were easily able to wear down the beast and destroy it. However, the sheer power such an unremarkable creature obtained through mere ingestion of sacred power changed something in my perspective. A hunger unlike any I knew grew despite my best intentions and resistance. The prayers and pleas did little to satisfy my traitorous flesh, so I turned to the book. I was hoping to quell my desires with knowledge of the abominable, truly naive.
The summoner’s manual didn’t hold abomination but instead showed me the key to everything I desired through controlled interactions. Exchanges with true demons bound by the holy to truth, the power of names when invoked, and unworldly rewards. Taking the book's words for granted was, of course, foolish, but the seed had been planted, and the desire grew. I found that only occult knowledge held solutions to sate the hunger that crept into my heart. A small monthly sacrifice of something valued, not highly, just something holding value, like gold, was sufficient at the time.
The tipping point came when I was assigned under a new captain. The man was intolerably strict and seemed to have some kind of rooted hatred for me in particular. Even worse, the former pope invented the holy orb. It was created to measure and hunt demons and was widely adopted throughout the citadel. In secret I tested myself and felt my heart drop as it showed the taint lingering on my soul. In my desperation I turned not to the holy lord but to the dark book. Even knowing that some part of me screamed not to every time I indulged, I didn’t care anymore. Sometimes it felt like I had hardened my heart against all but it. The book eventually became the only thing I trusted.
My trust wasn’t misplaced; a short search found me my answers just like it always had. A means of hiding corruption by sealing the soul in another realm. No mortal device or magic would reveal my darkness, only those with a sense for divinity, but it wouldn’t be hard to undermine the rare few with said skills using the new orbs as proof of purity. All the ritual required was a decent magical strength and some divinely tainted blood, easy to snatch from others with my role in the Inquisition. Once they were acquired, I needed to find an extraplanar being that would harbor my soul off of the mortal realm.
I spent months secretly conducting rituals summoning otherworldly beings and testing the proofs of the book. However, my rituals had taken a toll on my body. Summoning otherworldly beings so often left me drained and weak. That captain had also taken note, and I suspected he was beginning to secretly investigate me. Truly I had backed myself into a corner when I finally met the being that I trusted most. After such extensive practice I knew the author wasn’t human, but my trust in observable proof in my use of the book meant that I felt confident when I met him. As a pair fluent in the rules, we faced off in the forging of a contract that finally gave me surety in not just the ability to evade detection but also to assure my rise within the temple itself.
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The very next day the captain accused me of stealing heretical materials and had my room searched only to find nothing. The captain persisted and even brought forth an orb to check me. A strong glowing light revealed me as not a mere ‘chosen one’ but something more. The demon had promised that all things in the material world could be twisted for a price, and the glowing of an orb to read falsely was an easy bonus that I had negotiated. After checking me, I demanded the captain face the same. The abyssal black had the man decapitated by his subordinates before he could even respond.
The demon laughed with me as I struggled to hold back the smile of delight seeing the tables turned so deliciously. I no longer felt the hunger or any mortal needs because my body was now but a puppet of my soul stored safely beyond reach. I stopped aging and leveraged my new tools to slowly create a faction within the temple. A faction among those who didn’t hold themselves strictly to the Divine Decrees, I was a merciful leader whose divinity was apparent in the light of the holy orbs. The Inquisition, my former home, stayed true to its skeptical nature, but without proof, the orbs shielded me from even the most insistent. Slowly I twisted those following me to follow me above all, and through a second stroke of luck, the old pope finally passed away.
By narrow margins I managed to claim the highest position in the citadel. With absolute power I dismantled the inquisition and remade them into my personal sword. I no longer needed to worry about cults and lesser demons infiltrating, with my contracted companion carefully managing my personal inquisition of demon paladins. If I’ve learned anything from my frequent interactions with the contracted demon, it has been greed. Piece by piece I’ve rebuilt the order using turning the forgotten into demons and those who fail into the corrupted starved that hunt for more chosen to bring to the order. I’ve let the opposing faction manage the outside world while I take my time building an army of demons within my walls.
A soft knock at the door signals the arrival of my newest chosen victim. A beautiful and powerful woman from the outside and eventually the perfect addition to my demon harem.
“Please come in,” I gently permitted her entry, smiling generously. I could plainly feel the suspicion echoing from her. The best toys needed patience and time. I had plenty of both, and the hunt made the reward all the more worth my efforts. I heard the demon chuckling, watching through my soul into the realm of mortals. He enjoyed the hunt just as much as I did.
The Void
Queen Karia looked down, reading Callen’s report with a stony complexion. Unlike the emotional and fun sister, Callen seemed completely uninterested. She wouldn’t have minded teasing the boy a bit, but professionalism should be met with professionalism, and there was serious work at hand. She had anticipated a shortage of local supplies when she gave him the order. Hunting monsters to supplement the auxiliaries would slow them, but with so many knights feeding a few thousand soldiers, the bare minimum wasn’t impossible. She was more interested in giving the boy the opportunity to innovate a solution or make a mistake from which she could give him guidance. Champions like Callen and Callia were rare, and twin champions hitting above level 100 at such a young age set them up to qualify as a viscount or even duke should they keep their pace. Regardless, the pair were clearly future heavyweights whom she held no reservations in grooming into her faction.
Finishing the report, Karia leaned back and looked over Callen carefully. His solution was to use the space gates to bring goods from the citadel. She had thought the gate was some kind of relic the boy had restored and bound to him, similar to the space sword of Baron Mecca, but it seems it was an invention. Despite already valuing the boy highly, it seems he insisted on making her raise her opinions yet again. She gave the order for Callen to get to work making the new gate and watched as he summoned two frames of finely crafted doorways embellished with the sun and light motifs.
Once he was done making the gates, she planned to personally visit the citadel. It had been many years since her last visit, and personal intervention would likely make the greedy pope more willing to support her actions. Not to mention it would give her the chance to visit Callia briefly. The girl had a knack for trouble, and by every measure, the queen suspected she would be skirting some punishment with this as an excuse. As she finished her work, Callen came into the room exhausted but proudly showing off the door.
“My Queen, the gate is ready, and Callia is as well.” Karia stood up and curiously stepped into the gate. Immediately screams and unearthly wails echoed through her skull. She looked out into the void and saw the nothing. Whispers of suffering and madness clawing at a golden dome, ravenous yet invisible. She looked back at Callen on the outside, her heart trembling. With his limited sense, he had no idea what kind of place this was. This wasn’t just some empty space; this was a tiny sanctuary in the land of forsaken souls. When Callia’s door activated, Karia rushed through it, her very spirit empowered by the trust of hundreds of thousands of humans shaken by the nightmare that only those at the top of humanity could perceive.
