Desolation of Mind

©2002 Ronin Ashe
All rights reserved.

1. At the base of the Waelling

Jade looked at the ominous wall of multicolored light, the Waelling, and felt a shiver run down his spine. He knew, unlike most others like him, that any real part of him existed in that wall. He was aware of the fact that he himself was part of the very thing that barred his escape back to the tangible reality he had come from. He knew, but did not care.

The forest comprised a large portion of the landscape that was the mind of the Dark King. Here, wrapped in the ether of the Void and mad dreams of Tarmus, souls were bound for eternity to wait and suffer and fade. The forest was a need of that necessity, as much as it was a manifestation of it. The damned formed their Waelling with any tangibility they possessed, but were unaware of their place in the great wall. In their mind's eye, they could only see the Waelling as an outsider, as someone looking in on the horror of suffering incarnate.

On their first nights in the Void, most men, or rather their conscious minds, fell into an abyss of suffering from which they would never be able to pull themselves. Left to face the sounds and sights of the Void alone, men who had butchered, lied, and betrayed all their lives wept like children and lost themselves.

On his first night in the Void, Jade Chresyl slept like a child who had been tucked into bed by the loving hands of a mother, unaffected by the wailing of the damned.

Weeks may have passed since then, maybe even months, but Jade could not be sure. The sights he had beheld, and each breath of stagnant air he took, brought a certain amount of despair. But that was what his living existence had been, a certainty of damnation and hopelessness. He knew that he deserved this end, and perhaps that is what saved him from the entrenching madness that was the Void's final cruel joke.

"I have watched you, human, watched you for some time now," a voice rasped behind him. He had not heard it approach, but he had felt it drawing near. The assassin was still, even in death, always aware of what was around him. "And I have seen that you make a home for yourself here."

The creature that greeted his gaze when he turned was not the worst thing he had seen since his arrival, but it would not have been considered attractive by anyone. It was hulking, with graying-red skin and large black eyes that seemed like pools of liquid stone. This was not the first of its kind to approach him, but it was the first that hadn't threatened him at the outset.

"Demon, I have no wish to usurp your authority here. I seek only to find a place to sit, rest, and suffer," Jade declared.

This demon smiled at his proclamation as though it amused him.

"Suffer," the demon mumbled. "It seems you do not suffer from much, human. As I said, I have watched you for some time now. Days. And I have seen the way the forest gives way for you."

Jade shook his head, but the demon continued.

"For as long as I can remember, this place has been host to those whose mere existence was for the purpose of tormenting and breaking the likes of you. Men have come here, as close to the second boundary as can be expected for anyone who sinned as much as you, and they have known their folly. Yet, I have seen you sleep. And I have seen you hunt. The creatures of this forest have given you wide berth and have accepted your presence as something they cannot change, as something they would not even try to change. They are afraid of you." The demon chuckled, and it was a heinous rasping. "The natural denizens of this place, those that were born of the Dark King's despising of mankind, hate you. Yet they shy from you, ignoring their most primal instincts. Why? And why do you not fear? Do you believe yourself innocent of the follies that brought you here? Because the universe is not a jury; it knows the guilty from the innocent."

Jade shook his head again. "I am innocent of nothing. I deserve to be here. I have no misconceptions about that. The dead of Radnor spoke to me long before your Waelling, and the cries of the innocent far outweigh those of the damned."

Jade watched the demon puzzle out what he meant and a glimmer twinkled in the black pools of its eyes. It gazed with intensity at Jade, as though looking through him. Scanning himself, wondering what the demon was looking for, Jade saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Not marked..." the demon muttered, almost outside of Jade's range of hearing. "Human, what year is it in your world?"

"By Baltior's calendar, it is 1570," Jade answered, suddenly very curious about the demon's intentions.

"Elvish. Answer me with the dates of the elves," the grayish beast grunted.

Jade had to do some calculations in his head. He figured a rough estimate of the year in elvish by remembering how old he was the last time he had used the dating of the elves.

"4623, and it was their season of Hom when I died."

Jade's answer enraged the demon. He counted on his fingers while mumbling to himself.

"Hom. Twenty-three. Too early! And unmarked!" The demon howled. His dead gaze fell on Jade and he stormed forward, grabbing Jade by each arm but keeping him at arm's length, outside of kicking range. The creature moved with such speed that Jade was taken off guard.

"What have you done, human? What have you done?" The beast roared, and with his roar, the trees seemed to bow away in all directions. The ground beneath them even rose up a little.

Jade shook his head, uncomprehending.

"How did you die? Hmmm?" The demon groaned.

Jade told him what he remembered. His past life now seemed only images, like paintings of things that had actually happened. In the briefest of terms, Jade told of the death of his wife, and his hunt for those responsible, and how he became consumed with his thirst for vengeance and forsook all else. He told of his chance meeting with the sorcerer and his subsequent purchase of a spell. Before he could speak the name of the spell, the demon whispered it.

"The Procession of the Midnight Sun," the creature breathed, in what seemed to be awe and shock. He let go of Jade's arms and gave him a quizzical look. "You are full of surprises, human. Hmmm. What shall I call you?"

"My name is..." Jade began, before the demon cut him off with a grunt.

"Don't you know a thing about names?" Jade shook his head, confused. "Names have power. Names are dangerous, especially here. I would never volunteer my true name to anyone, but if I did, it wouldn't be in the open where anyone could hear."

He still didn't understand, but he left it alone.

"I shall call you Hunter. You like that? Hunter?"

Jade grimaced, which made the creature smile again.

"What should I call you, demon?" Jade asked. He disliked the way the creature was treating him, but the creature was the only that he had met so far that had not out-right challenged him.

"You may call me.... Hmmm.... I guess you could call me Mastifael," the demon said in his low, raspy voice.

"Mastifael?" Jade asked.

"A name that is old, older, in fact, than your world," Mastifael said, considering. "There are other names I could give you, but Mastifael will do for now." Then the demon looked around at the landscape that surrounded them, with disdain and apparent disgust.

"Come, Hunter, we must go if we are to see about setting you free," Mastifael said and then he loped off into the tangled underbrush.

"Free?" Jade called after him.

2. The First Labor

They stopped at the edge of a broad clearing that appeared to be a marshy field. Wilted cattails rose from putrid green water and nothing stirred. The air around them was thick and heavy, stagnant and unmoving. Jade thought he detected a flavor of chine-tea, but dismissed it as his imagination.

"What are we doing here? And what did you mean by..." Jade demanded, but he was cut short by a raised hand from Mastifael.

"You will soon try to free yourself of this place. But for now, you must listen, and when you speak, you must speak softly. What lives here, the Calvyn, even I dare not face. The horrors it has endured has made it cruel and unyielding," the demon whispered.

"Free? What do you mean by that? Free of the Void?" Jade demanded again, this time in low voice.

Mastifael cast a glance at the swamp, and then looked back at Jade. "Hunter, why must you ask questions and then answer them in the same breath? If you know the answers, don't ask."

"But I didn't..." Jade blurted, before catching the volume of his voice.

"Guard your tongue, Hunter!" the demon rasped.

In the clearing, the ground heaved a little, as though it were breathing.

"There may be need for you, but I have my own needs. If you can do what should be done, then, and only then, will I help. You must prove yourself."

"I will prove nothing. I deserve to be here. Why should I be given a second chance, when others might deserve it more?" Jade demanded, this time taking care to keep his voice quiet.

Mastifael glowered at him, and it made Jade cringe inside. On the surface, he was stone.

"You are needed. That I know. But it means that your fate should not be met here in the Void. Those who suffer needlessly have waited for release for long ages. If you are fated for another doom, then I say, here and now, you may be able to do some good." Mastifael was as commanding as any man that Jade had ever known. Those black eyes no longer spoke to Jade of bleakness. They conveyed wisdom and age. He found himself trusting the creature.

"Before you go to meet this first labor, there are a few things you must know, things that may help you in the end. You must first understand the landscape of this place. The Void is exactly as the name implies. You stand on ground that does not exist.

"Why do you think it is that you have not seen any of your fellow men here?" Mastifael continued.

Jade realized that the question was not rhetorical and answered.

"I suppose that in a place of infinite space, it would be a rarity that one man would encounter another."

Mastifael smiled. "Good logic, Hunter, but wrong. You are alone. Each man, woman, or child who comes here, does so alone. They travel this land in their mind. And there is no room for another in one's own mind."

"Why are you here then?" Jade asked.

"You are sharp. My brethren and I inhabit this dream that you are in. Your mind is impressed with us. We are real, as you are, in this dream, at least."

"Why..." Jade started and stopped, as the demon gave him a hard look.

"We don't have enough time for me to answer all of your questions. That would take an eternity. Just listen to what I am telling you," Mastifael said. Jade disagreed, thinking that he wouldn't be able to comprehend completely if he didn't ask questions, but the demon continued.

"The Waelling is one of the walls that separates the damned from their home. With its strength lying in its unity, it is the only place where those here in the forest can see tangibly the others who co-exist with them in the Void. Have you noticed that it has followed us here? You did. Well, that is another property of the Waelling. The farther you travel from where you start in the Void, the darker and more wicked the way becomes. To keep any from persevering to the Tower of Verena or to the blackness beyond, the way becomes worse the farther you go, and once you go even a step, you lose ground behind you. The Waelling will never recede. Already, where we met is beyond your achieving. It no longer exists for you."

Jade looked over at the clearing. The ground had now risen two feet or so in the middle, and it showed no signs of receding.

"Enough. I think you understand enough to do what must be done if necessary. Now you must face the first labor," the demon cried loudly.

Jade was shocked, his eyes widening in realization of what Mastifael had just done. The earth beneath him began to shake, and the trees swayed with the breathing of whatever was rising from the ground.

"Hunter. You now face a slayer who has felled armies, blow by blow. Good luck, Hunter," Mastifael cried, and then disappeared into the forest.

He didn't know what to expect. It could have been anything. His assumption that it was something big was sure to be fairly accurate, but beyond that it was hard to prepare. Jade expected the ground to erupt in a fountain of mud and swamp water, but instead something slowly pulled itself out of the muck.

A few paces away there was what appeared to be a dark birch tree, which should yield strong, firm wood. After dashing to the tree he scanned it quickly, looking for a decent-sized limb. He found one that was too short to make a staff, but was long enough to use as a club.

As he tugged downward to free the branch from the tree, his gaze slid sideways and fell on the center of the clearing, where a large, bony, grime-covered hand was grasping and clawing at the earth.

Jade pulled the branch free and decided that it was as good as he could do on short notice. He turned to face whatever it was that a Calvyn could be.

The thing that pulled itself from the ground was as close to skeletal as something could be without being fleshless, and its surface seemed to have the consistency of rough tree bark. It was long and fluidly moving, with unevenly sized arms, one much larger than the other. Overall, the creature was perhaps twice, or two and a half times, the size of Jade.

Its face was a mask of evil. It grinned with no nose, and where the eyes and mouth should have been were only gaping holes into darkness. But somehow, even without the necessary pieces of a face, the creature gave off the appearances of menace and sadness. That grinning face was just a cover to something that was hiding within.

The Calvyn gurgled and lurched at Jade. Its walk was a shamble, but it still moved quickly, so quickly that Jade almost missed his opportunity to bring the club around to strike the incoming maw. As the branch came swinging in, the creature's smaller hand, still large and shovel-shaped, deflected the blow, while the larger hand struck a powerful blow to Jade's upraised, right forearm. The impact was so painful that he almost lost his grip on the club.

He twisted around, passed the club to his left hand and, still spinning, delivered a hard crack to the Calvyn's head. The impact felt of wood striking wood. The creature reeled from his blow and began growling. Jade saw a crack on the side of its face. If this thing was not made of wood, it was composed of something very similar. Inside the crack was the same blackness that was evident in the eyes and mouth.

The beast pulled itself down into a crouch, as though it meant to spring, but Jade didn't give it time. He launched himself at it, feigned a downward blow, and twisted at the last minute to catch it with an uppercut swing to its chin-like prominence. Another crack resounded, and Jade felt the reverberation of the strike ring down the length of wood. As he spun to strike again, the larger hand caught him by the shoulder, lifted him, and then he was flying through the air like a child's rag doll.

When he stood and turned, the creature's chin was gone, and beneath was that blackness that seemed to be its interior. But when he looked closer, he saw a tuft of oily black hair sticking out at the base of the newly formed hole. He pondered this as he rushed in for another assault. This time it did spring at him as he rushed in, and it swung at him with its larger hand. Jade ignored the head as a target, dove out of the way of the incoming claw, and pivoted, bringing the club down onto the smaller hand that the Calvyn had raised in defense of what was left of its head. The shovel-shaped hand splintered and broke away, surprising Jade, and left only a stump where the hand had been.

The Calvyn howled, and it wasn't as much the sound of a beast as it was the sound of a man crying out in pain. Jade could tell that the sound had come out of the neck area, where on closer inspection, he could see that the tuft of hair was more than just that. It was the top of a very human head. This thing was not a monster at all, but a man inside of some sort of armor or clothing. He ran away from the larger hand that was coming back around to strike again. The creature was still howling.

His opponent came on, in that hurried amble, with its still-functioning larger hand descending like a pitchfork. Jade held his ground until the last possible second and then ducked into a roll, catching a leg as the Calvyn passed over him.

With momentum carrying it, the creature-man fell forward into a rotted birch-like tree that had been behind where Jade had been standing. It tried to stop itself from falling, and its claw stabbed into the soggy wood.

For a second Jade thought his plan had failed, but as the creature pulled its embedded hand free, the tree began to fall forward. Jade rolled sideways like a log, not stopping until he heard the loud crash and splash of the tree landing on the soggy ground, and the howling of the Calvyn.

He turned. Exactly what he had hoped had happened. The rotted, but still heavy, tree had pinned his opponent to the marshy ground. It thrashed and flailed with its free hand, but although it was only the stump, he approached slowly. He never considered a fight over until the opponent was dead.

Inside the husk-like armor Jade saw the top of his enemy's head as it twisted and maneuvered, trying to pull itself out.

Jade swung his club downward, but instead of aiming for the human head inside, he smashed down on the upper chest of the bark and hammered again and again until he could see the man inside. The man was young; in Jade's world he would barely have been old enough to enlist in the military. The small goatee on his chin was comprised of thin, curled fuzz that confirmed the man's youth. If he couldn't even grow a thick beard, he might even have been younger than Jade had originally estimated.

The boy was crying wearily from sunken, red eyes that looked sad and terrified at the same time. He mumbled to himself, disheartened.

"Who are you?" Jade demanded.

As the boy tried to speak, blood boiled from his mouth; not a trickle, but a fountain. Jade stepped back and scanned the young man. The youth's right arm, and perhaps his leg, were all that were trapped beneath the tree. Jade knew enough about how men died to realize that those wounds would not make a man bleed from the mouth.

Jade lowered his head down to look closer at the boy, who had stopped flailing and was now staring at him, pleading in his eyes. Pleading for what, Jade couldn't be sure. Was it mercy, or was it death?

In his youth, Jade would have killed this boy for what he had just done. It didn't matter what the circumstances were, or what his reason had been, Jade the assassin would have killed this boy without hesitation.

"Pl-lee. Pllleeassse," the Calvyn bubbled through the blood, his words choked and awful. At last Jade knew what the boy wanted. He wanted to die.

The boy tried to speak again, and again blood poured.

"Too... longgg..." he gurgled in his wet voice.

For some strange reason, Jade noticed the Waelling again, that harrowing cry of the damned, and a chill passed down his spine. He gave the boy an empathetic look, raised the club, and brought it crashing down.

3. The Telling

He met Mastifael again a short while later, a quarter mile or so from where he had buried the boy. The demon looked to him, apology apparent in his black-eyed face.

"Why?" Jade demanded. "Why did that have to be done? And why did I have to do it?"

The demon motioned for him to sit and he did. Jade saw the blood still on his hands and began rubbing them on the earth in an effort to clean them, even if only a little.

"It was for the best. He has suffered for so long."

"He said as much," Jade said.

"Said?" Mastifael hissed.

"It was hard to understand. Every time he tried to speak he bled. But I made out enough words to know what he meant." Jade answered.

Mastifael nodded his gray, hairless head, and then scooped up a rock from the ground and began to rub it.

"Calvyn has been bleeding here since this place came into existence. He bled as part of his punishment."

"Punishment?" Jade asked.

"Hunter, you ask too much. It would be a long story, and you have been gone from your world too long already. I wish I had known who you were when I first laid eyes on you. I would have acted sooner," the demon said sadly. "Calvyn was here as punishment for being human. When this place was made, and his world unmade, he was put here as both a punishment and a ward."

"He bled so that he could not cry for an end to his suffering, and he was bound from taking his own life. The one that put him here felt that it was necessary," the demon continued.

"Was it Tarmus who did this? The one you call the Dark King?" Jade asked.

"No. Tarmus wouldn't have had the power. His powers, new at that time, lay in a different area. No it was the one who unmade the very fabric of existence who did it. Another misguided youth, one who was once friends with the boy." Mastifael answered.

"But..." Jade began, but the demon cut him short.

"No. There is no time. As I said, it is a long story, and you have another task before you. But for this one, you must first sleep." No sooner had the words been said than Jade felt his eyelids grow heavy. In seconds his head seemed too heavy to hold aloft, and then he felt himself falling, falling into oblivion.

4. Dreams

They were like a tidal wave of time, his dreams, and they carried him across the breadth of his life from birth to death. He saw his childhood, his days in the tundra of the Terac Outland, his meeting with a boy who would become his first real friend. The tundra melted away and he saw himself training to fight with the Rourchan monks. The monastery crumbled to ash and was replaced by the burning city of Radnor as he stood atop his mountain perch and watched.

Then he was in his home in Uvel, with Li Enn. That panged his heart, and he knew longing again, longing for the love they had shared. Then he saw her die, but what died was not really her. He knew that now. She had died before that, at hands more sinister. He saw the hunt for the light amid darkness and his ultimate destruction in the Procession of the Midnight Sun.

It was only after he had experienced it all again, in agonizing detail, that he awoke.

5. The Second Labor

When Jade opened his eyes, he found that he was in the same spot that he had been in when he fell asleep. Except there were differences. The stone that Mastifael had been rubbing was now lying on the ground, a groove warn into its surface about the size of one of Mastifael's large fingers.

Mastifael stood behind him and faced the opposite direction from the Waelling. Before him was a stout one-story building that was composed of some sort of rough gray stone.

"So you finally awaken," Mastifael said. "You are probably disoriented and unaware of where we are, so let me tell you. We have moved forward into the forest, to the third level, which means that we have drawn closer to the realm of the Dark King. I had you sleep so that I could move you swiftly and safely past perils that you may not have been able or willing to overcome."

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Jade asked.

"I have already invested too much in you, too much by far. You will just have to trust that you have no other options and continue on."

"Do I?" Jade demanded. "Do I have no other options, truly?"

The demon grinned and his wicked teeth glinted in the low light. "You could lie back, accept what you have been handed, and rot here for all eternity. I would say that is not really an option. So, yes, I think it is safe to say that you have no other options."

"Fine. What task do you have for me now?" Jade asked harshly. He was tired of this already; it reminded him of a time long past, when he had to hunt men because there was no other way, when it had been to do the task or die.

"Beyond me lies the chamber of truth. That is not its real name, but for you, that is what it is. In there, you will find a piece to the puzzle of your exodus from here." Mastifael was not trying to be enigmatic, Jade could see, but he still had the sense that the demon was keeping things from him. "You, Hunter, shall go into that chamber, and once you enter, you may not return until you have solved the puzzle. Inside, there are two men, or what appear to be men. They are in fact Gravers, something that you would know nothing about. They are of another time and another place. They are of a specific clan among their order, the Fen. They are eaters of man-flesh. They were called in ancient times 'un-men.' You must not kill or attack them. Without their aid, you will not be able to solve the puzzle. If you try to leave before deciphering this riddle, they will attack you. I have no doubts that you would kill them, but if you do, you will never solve the puzzle."

"What is this puzzle?" Jade cut in.

"It is simple and difficult. Inside, there are three doors. The one you came in through, and two on the far wall. Each of these doors is guarded by one of the Fen. One of these doors leads to what you seek, the other leads to doom. I will not speak of the horror lies beyond the wrong door, but it is something no man or demon could survive." Twin pools of darkness, that is what the demon's eyes were, showing no emotion or thought. Only blankness.

"How do I know which door is the correct one?" Jade's mind was already spinning. He had always hated riddles.

"That is the puzzle. The two Gravers are the only ones who know. One can speak no word that is not true. The other can only speak lies."

"Then it's simple, not a riddle at all. I can simply ask the one that speaks the truth which door is the correct one." Jade said.

Mastifael roared with laughter. It was a strange thing, to see a demon laughing. Jade took it in stride.

"Ahh. That would be far too easy, don't you think? The challenge lies in the fact that you do not know which one is which. Now go." The demon turned his back as though to walk away.

"Wait, I have more questions. What..."

"No. I have told you all that I shall. This is not such a difficult riddle. I knew a lost boy once who solved this riddle without thought. Poor Farber didn't have the heart to move forward from there. His answer was different than what he had hoped for." And then Mastifael walked off into the trees, blending into them and disappearing before Jade could ask again.

The stone chamber, from the outside, appeared to be a perfect square, maybe twelve strides on all sides. The exterior of it was some kind of petrified gray mud, with loose stones and debris mixed in and hanging out everywhere. The door was made of wood, though it had been painted a similar gray as the stone, and there were supporting beams across the front of it that reminded him of prison cell bars.

He walked inside and found that the chamber within matched his estimation from the outside, a room about ten paces to any wall from anywhere in the room. The only odd things were the two doors, which he hadn't seen in his exterior scan. They would have to open up into nothing at all. That in itself was a puzzle, but one that he did not care to ponder. The one that lay at his feet was enough.

The two Fens, as Mastifael had called them, were both gaunt, man-like creatures; one had graying hair, and the other was bald. They both stood still, apparently ignoring his entry into their chamber. Most likely they would not react until he addressed them directly, or until he tried to leave. He would not do that unless he absolutely had to.

"I am here to solve your riddle," Jade declared, and instantly felt foolish. He hadn't had time to think on what he would ask, and now he had gone and initiated discussion with the cannibals.

"We shall answer one question each..." the gray haired Fen began, sunken eyes, and wrinkled face showing no emotion as he did so.

"...We shall answer as many questions as necessary for you to find what you seek," the other finished.

Jade cursed to himself, thinking that he would have a few choice words for Mastifael if he made it out. The demon had not told him whether or not he would have more than one question. This left him in a bad place. He still did not know the creature that told the truth from the one that spoke lies, but now he had to worry that he may only have one question available to him.

"I need time to think," Jade declared. Neither creature moved, which made Jade wince. He had hoped for a reaction that he might be able to use to discern which Fen was which, but they stood like stone, nothing showing on their faces.

He quickly began to pile up the facts in his head. Nothing of what he was told seemed that it would be any use in this puzzle. He realized that he would not figure out the answer without asking a question. But that might be his last question. Suddenly wondering if he was only allowed to ask the same question of both creatures sent his mind spinning. He was making things worse by reasoning. He started trying to find questions that he could ask that would gain the answer to his query and also yield the same response from both.

The worst-case scenario seemed the most likely. It was logical that in order to make this puzzle harder, he would be forced to ask one question that would reveal the door he wanted. That would mean that the gray-haired one was the truth teller. That would be too simple, though. He knew it would. He didn't feel like gambling his one chance at freedom, so he thought on.

If he asked which door was the door that would lead him to what he wanted, the creatures would each point to a different door, and if he only had one question, he would lose out. He wasn't so sure what would happen if he chose wrong, or if there was only one question. He might be attacked, and if he was, then the riddling would be done and he would have to guess at the door again. That put that question out of his head.

There was a possibility that he could ask different questions, in which case he could ask one a simple question like what color was his hair or eyes and, depending on the answer, he could ask the next one about the door, according to whether or not he was the liar or the truth teller. But again, that would be a gamble, because if he asked that question and it was the only question he could ask, it would leave him again unaware of the correct door.

Then, as if by chance, his mind slid around the truth. He knew what to ask. It was actually quite simple, and only a slight variation on the easiest question. The best thing was, he could ask that same question of both parties, and their answer should be the same. He grinned in anticipation, but still ran his mind through the possibilities, making sure he hadn't missed anything.

Jade stepped forward, placing himself directly in front of the gray haired Fen. He ran his fingers through his hair, set himself, in case something went wrong and he did have to fight, and then asked.

"What would your companion say is the correct door to lead me to what I seek?" Jade asked, and instantly felt gratification at the light that flared in the creature's eyes. The Fen turned, and pointed toward the door on the right side of the room.

"My companion would tell you that that is the way to what you seek," the Fen hissed.

Jade moved to his companion, already knowing the answer that the other creature would give, but compelled to complete the questioning nonetheless.

"And you. What would your companion say is the correct door to lead me to what I seek?" The cannibal grimaced, as though it pained him to raise his arm and point, but that arm, which ended in bony white hands, pointed to the same door as the last had pointed at, the door on the right.

Jade smiled. He had never been very good at puzzles, but he felt that he had handled this one well.

The two Fen moved and Jade whirled on the balls of his feet, preparing for an attack. But the cannibals walked toward the door through which he had entered. They didn't speak, only walked silently from the Chamber of Truth.

Jade strode confidently to the door on the left, hazarding a glance at the door on the right, the one that would have led him to doom. He turned the knob to the door on the left, cautiously, just in case, and then stepped into another room, one that looked the same as the last, only without the two doors on the far wall.

In the center of the room was a long table made of cherry wood, polished to the point of glowing and all but bare, with only a small scrap of paper sitting at its center.

Jade, again aware of the keening of the Waelling, moved to the paper, hesitated for only a second, and scooped it up. He looked at the plain yellowing piece of torn parchment, and saw printed on one side, in stately handwriting, the words "Your own damnation is your salvation." That was all. He felt let down. He crumpled the paper, placed it into his pocket, and moved to leave the secret room. Soon he had left the Chamber of Truth and its disappointments behind.

6. The Greater Puzzle

Outside the squat stone structure the two Fen lay on the ground, stiff and dead, their faces fixed in what appeared to be an excruciating final wail. What had killed them was unapparent, but they lay in a dark puddle of blood, black as a vampyre's.

"Your own damnation is your salvation," he said out loud, not comprehending what the phrase could mean.

"That was quicker than I had expected, Hunter. You surprised me. I had thought you thicker than that." Mastifael said from the shadows of the forest, before stepping into the low light of the clearing that housed the Chamber of Truth.

"You did not prepare me well for that, Mastifael. And I am sick of these games. That challenge yielded even less than the last as far as finding my way out of here." Jade wasn't as angry as he portrayed himself, but he was growing tired of the tedium of the challenges.

"I have to know, Hunter. I have to see for myself. Already, you have done for me a great favor. You have freed the Calvyn from his torment, something that others, when presented with the possibility, shied from, out of pity and weakness of resolve. That showed to me that you possess the mettle to kill even when you wish you did not have to. Now you have solved the Chamber of Truth, which tested your ability to discern lies from truth, something that you will need when you are free of here. Also you have shown that you can decide in favor of thought over action. Reflection gave you your answer when combat would have failed you. So far you have proven yourself almost completely. There is but one challenge left before you." Mastifael drew out the last word, making the whole statement seem ominous and making Jade feel unsure. Why was this creature testing him?

"Well, let me face this challenge. The air here is foul, and I desire to once again feel fresh air upon my face. And I desire to see the sun. To feel its warmth, " Jade said dispassionately. He did miss those things, but he really just wanted to be free of these trials. There was an air of impending doom about them.

The demon looked sadly for a moment at Jade, and then laughed, though it was a sad, disparaging laugh that made Jade feel cold.

"Come, the first boundary lies ahead, and entrance into the second level. Before that you must face the one who will give you the answer you seek." Mastifael suddenly seemed solemn and distant.

As Jade followed behind the demon, he found himself wondering what the last challenge would be. Mastifael had said that he would be facing someone who would give him the answer. Not a piece of the puzzle, but the whole of it. It was encouraging to know that he might be done with the Void, a place he had thought he would never leave again.

7. The Third Labor

The demon stopped ahead of him and turned. His hideous face was drawn in what appeared to be concern.

"You will stay on in this direction and seek out Garlam. He will be the only sentient creature you meet. For a mile around this place, the territory is his. Garlam will have your answer, but he will not give it up easily. He hates humans, but you in particular he will despise."

"Why. Why will he despise me?"

"Garlam is a nightmare spawned out of Tarmus' hatred for those of your line. It has even been speculated among my brethren that the Dark King did not intend Garlam's creation. It was rumored that he was simply born one day of pent-up loathing and hatred, and that Tarmus wondered at the marvel he had given birth to. Garlam is like a child to the Dark King, as much so as Shael-Cree or the Barnthenal. Be wary of him."

"Those of my line? You mean..." Jade choked out.

"You know of what I speak, son of Lang. I may have not known you just from sight, but I suspect the Garlam knows the feel of your brood down to his bones. He most likely even knows you are here now, as close as we are to him. He will seek you out, but remember that you cannot wring blood from a stone. If you kill him, which I doubt is possible, he will answer no questions. You must use tact and evasion, if you are to pass this labor. If you survive, he will have given you your answer. Now I must go. I risk much being here." And again, as he had at the last two challenges, the demon quickly disappeared into the forest, and Jade was unable to follow.

Jade stayed where he was for a long moment, pondering what the demon had told him. He tried to imagine what sort of monster this 'Garlam' would have to be, but found his imagination falling short. It would have to be something awful if Tarmus considered it his child. After a long moment Jade began to walk forward, slowly and with stalking grace, toward the first boundary, on the other side of which the second level lay.

It wasn't long before he felt the nagging suspicion that he was being watched, followed. If what Mastifael had said was true, than this would have to be Garlam.

As Jade walked, he spied a long broken branch that would serve well as a quarterstaff if necessary. He scooped up the branch and picked away the leaves and other debris that were stuck to the wood. After cleaning off the staff and testing its weight and balance, familiarizing himself with its feel, he picked up a stone that would serve as a very crude long-range weapon.

No sooner had he picked up the rock than the Garlam decided to make his appearance.

Garlam was man-sized and -shaped, his proportions no different than that of any man Jade would expect to meet on any street in any city. Contrasting greatly with the dark black leather pants and the plain, gray woolen shirt that Jade was wearing, Garlam wore a filthy white robe with a great hood that was thrown back over his shoulders, revealing a face that was hard and aged. Garlam appeared to be a man passing his middle years, with silver hair and a craggy, lined face. His nose was slightly too large for his face, as is the way of older men, and his eyebrows were so long that they drooped slightly over the sides of his eyes.

Jade wondered why Mastifael thought him so terrifying. The man looked frail, but Jade, who had been a hunter of men in his younger days, knew that appearances did not always match the truth.

"I have smelled your foulness; it rages in my mind," the old man said in a surprisingly young voice. He sniffed at the air as in evidence. Hatred burned in his eyes. "I will grind your bones for soup and make a meal of your flesh. Your skin, I will craft a fine hat from, and...."

"Enough!" Jade roared. "Tell me the answer, old man, and we can leave this without either of us regretting it."

Garlam's face scrunched up for a second, as he mouthed the word "answer" and then it reset to its loathing stare.

"I have no answers for you boy; only torment, misery, and eventual death," the old man declared.

"That is all I have known for a long time, Garlam, so I have nothing to lose." After saying it, Jade didn't hesitate, the hunter instinct in him taking over. He launched himself at the white-robed man, baring his teeth, as he first flung the stone, then followed after it with his new quarterstaff firmly in hand.

Jade let out a terrific cry of rage, but his cry turned to pain as his body crashed to a halt on a wall of air. He waited, expecting the impact of the ground an instant later, but instead he was frozen, suspended a full foot and a half off the ground. Only his head remained mobile. He looked at the old man, who was staring with burning intensity. The stone he had thrown hung in the air only inches from Garlam's face.

"You think to overcome me? You think I am some simple demon, whom you can best in combat and walk away from a hero? I am no demon. I am nightmare made flesh. I am walking death. I have longed, for so long, to crush the spirit of one of your ilk, and now my time of retribution is come. The stinking pits of the first level have never seen suffering the likes of which I shall inflict upon you. I shall make you wish that your existence had ended here and now, but that, I shall ensure, will not happen for ages. Your world will wither and die before there is an end to your suffering."

Jade couldn't think. Never before in his life had he felt so helpless. He struggled against whatever held him, but the harder he struggled the tighter it held him. Twisting and shaking, but never actually moving, he fought but could not budge.

There would be nothing for him now if Garlam was powerful enough to hold him without hands. He wouldn't even be able to escape, if all Garlam had to do to think it. But there had to be a way.

"You seem to talk an awful lot, Garlam. Do you ever act?" Jade said, hoping to anger the old man into slipping up. "Do you wish to see if you could best me in a fair fight? What pleasure can you derive from this, if you don't have to work for it?"

"I assure you, there will be enough pleasure as things are. If you think you can goad me into releasing you from your bonds, you are mistaken. Now that I have one of your kind, I will make you weep for an eternity, and that shall be my pleasure." Garlam roared, his silver hair shaking atop his thin head as he spoke.

"You filthy beast, you have no power over me! I will not weep! You shall have no pleasure from me!" As soon as he said it, he regretted it. Suddenly it every part of him felt like it was on fire. Pain, like a thousand nails driving home into his flesh, rolled over him, and he was sure he could not survive it. He cried out, unable to restrain himself, no longer even caring to stand behind what he had said.

"I shall have my pleasure, boy, and you will cry to the heavens for it to end. Here in the Void the heavens cannot hear you, remember that. That pain you felt was nothing compared to what I shall do. Your screams will drown out the perfect unity of the uncountable number of souls that is the Waelling!"

The bonds that held Jade suspended in the air were suddenly gone and he came crashing to the soft earth of the forest floor. The Waelling was once again the only thing he could hear. The pain and burned feeling still clung to him. It was several minutes before he could lift his head to see Garlam crumpled in a heap, Mastifael standing over him.

Jade staggered to his feet and stumbled toward Garlam, his desire to kill overwhelming his exhaustion and pain.

"Stop!" Mastifael said harshly, his hissing voice giving Jade a start. "If you come a step closer, Garlam will awaken, and I will not be able to stop him again. Not all battles can be won. You have what you came for, and if you go now, I will have what I came for. Now go; leave this place and return to your world."

Jade could barely comprehend what the demon was saying. He wanted to hurt Garlam, repay the pain. But he slowly realized that this challenge could only be met by understanding that one must choose one's battles. His freedom was at hand.

He ran his conversation with Garlam through his head, word for word, trying to find the answer amid the madness. He struggled with the end, where his mind had been clouded by pain; he knew it was where the answer had been spoken. Mastifael would not have interceded until the answer was given, but after that.... Jade raked through the sentences and found himself dwelling on the last. 'Your screams will drown out the perfect unity of the uncountable number of souls that is the Waelling.' He recalled something that Mastifael had said earlier, something about strength lying in oneness. Then, something in his mind clicked and he knew the answer. He knew what the greater riddle meant.

He pulled the paper out of his pocket and looked at it. The words now made perfect sense. "Your own damnation is your salvation". The answer was his own damnation -- not the suffering of the Void and not the Waelling of the damned. It was the tortured screams of dying women and children that had haunted his mind since the day Radnor burned to the ground, that was his own damnation. It was his personal hell that he had conjured even in the living world. If the weakness of the Waelling was its need for unity, and his was the only voice that had never joined the din, then logically he could escape through that vessel, since his own body had refused to join the chorus of suffering.

He looked to Mastifael, who nodded knowingly and even seemed to have a little regret in his black eyes.

"Farewell, Mastifael, and thank you for showing me the way," Jade said softly, knowing that his epiphany would be for nothing if Garlam was to awaken.

In his head he heard the reply, rather than in the air.

I have entrusted something to you, though you do not know it. If some day, it can be of use, you will know it. Now go. Your world needs you.

And Jade did go, back toward the Waelling.

8. Beyond the Waelling

In the Void, suffering and torment are the law of existence. Nothing there exists to comfort. Its inhabitants do not eat, or shelter, and only occasionally sleep, and that is always a nightmare of its own. All of these things are sureties, things that have been, are, and always will be.

On the day that Jade Chresyl, descendant of kings, passed the Waelling, in his own body, one surety became less certain. Never before, in all its ages of existence, had anyone left the domain of the Dark King without his permission. But Jade had crossed that boundary, the wall that was the Waelling, by embracing what he had been.

Jade ascended a steaming corridor of sulfur and fire, climbing steadily to the surface, to the world he had once left behind.

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