Histories of the Realm: The Book of the Damned Itself 6.0

Chapter 5

Where was I? I am now safe, and set aside for chronicling. It has been quite some time since my last entry, as I tell “time” not by the astrological sequencing of the heavens, but of when my stomach contorts and I need sustenance. I simply cannot do so by sleep, because there is no way in which to tell how long I have been asleep. One takes for granted things one is accustomed to. Day, night, grass, air, water. How I long for each.
When I awakened, I once more could scarce believe my eyes. There before me, sharpening her bright blue sword upon a whetstone made of the black Demonrock(similar to their weapons and steel), was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. A liquid that I briefly considered could be water adorned the whetstone, but my musings vanished as once more my eyes were drawn to her face, and down her incredible physique, like Ariadni herself was she! Her first words were soft.
“Who are you, I have examined you, and you are not of M’rachtachtken. You are mortal.”
Though she spoke softly, I caught the ancient word. Know of it, I did not, but I had heard prophets and magyckers speak with similar syllables from the mortal realm.
“I see you are unfamiliar. I refer to those who wish to slay us.”
“Demon-kind.”
“And so the time changes. Just so. What are you called?”
“I am Chiel, my father is unknown, for I was raised orphan-wise. Only a mother raised me, and I name not her maiden name, since she was unmarried.”
“I see. Much time has passed.”
An empty silence crawled between us then, and to this moment I remember it. Everything about her is so easy to remember, when all is not being clouded by her attractiveness. I find myself drawn to her more and more; the curse of all women. But lo! she is no mortal woman.
I managed to find words, which I once again recall with startling accuracy; I suspect she may have some supernatural ability which is augmenting my memory, for what she spoke and exactly what she said seems to be imprinted upon my thoughts.
“Who are you?”
“I am Terennjsiah-Ellessene-Yhtavierv-Hlixhyphorates-Syehilomraaken, firstborn of Sanshiyhatyarres-Alellendenarres-Finditeismicalleandeas-Nmamorandastolophloian. I was cast down for my unparalleled beauty to that of Ariadniattes-Sellophloytusmous-Rhetfeliosmosede-Kanerkesserenes, sealed here within Xophaltez by her herself.”
Of her dialogue, she spoke my language and I had previously pondered how this was so; I had assumed that she was from my time and from my people. The truth is this: She is of immortal caste, of born immortal, not made, and therefore all of her ways cannot be understood by us mortals. I presume to think it, her understanding of my language, that is, has to do with her eyes, and the way she seems to look at my soul, not at me.
Although I was mortally distracted by the movement of her lips, I managed to try and comprehend what was being said. I tried.
“You are…immortal? The daughter of…Sanshi, Goddess of the Huntsman’s Fortune, who bears six wings of light?”
“You are man. Much time has passed, and through the ages, my mother’s true name has been remembered. I am pleased with this.”
“You said…you were cast down as the result of your beauty? Jealousy from…Ariadni, Bringer of Storms? Cast down…? In Xophaltez! That is this places’ true name! Where am I, Mighty One, Daughter of The Eleven Above?”
As I said this, I fell to my face on the floor before her, for I have seen this done by the Priests of Twin River countless times, although I am not a religious person. I feared then that this would be known to her, just as she knew my language. I was terribly fearful, facing the firstborn of one of the Eleven Above.
“Rise, mortal. I am not to be bowed to, as the M’rachkenta commend.”
I rose back up to my feet, watching as she continued to sharpen her blade upon the whetstone. I suddenly wondered if that blade was of Those Above’s construct…yet it still needed to be sharpened….however, it was not being sharpened by mortal means, but by the Demonstone of black. These were my thoughts; I will append more of them later.
“M’rachkenta…” I struggled to say it, as if saying it brought upon darkness, “Could you mean Demon Lord? Earlier you referred to the Demon-kind as M’rachtachtken.”
“Just so. You listen well.” Is what she said, and then followed by:
“In the time before the M’rachtachtken War, all existence was immortal, crafted by The Mother herself. Everything was in tandem, serene and perfect, and all existence existed on one plane. Twenty children bore she, from The Father himself.
Now it came to pass that The Father was a proud and contemptuous Father, selecting and favoring certain children that caught his eye, my mother not included. Nine of them he selected in total. Among them he bestowed gifts of his power, a power not available to the other children.
With this power, certain children became as The Father himself, for the power was of him. They began to favor things and to hold in contempt The Mother herself, for they were now more of The Father than of The Mother. They began to strike against the other children, to assault and bear hatred.
The other children fought back initially with their own powers, but found that the other children, the ‘Children of The Father’, possessed still the attributes of The Mother herself, as well as the gifts from The Father. They were more powerful. With their power, they created others amongst themselves, just as through The Mother, The Father created my mother, as you called ‘Sanshi’. They possess the power of procreation. From their hands were wrought the M’rachtachtken, whom they named, a naming only possible through the power of The Father. In the language of gods, those you refer to as ‘Eleven Above’, ‘M’rachtachtken’ is but a word stemming from a root word, which is what we, the immortals from birth, call ‘M’rachkenta’, which is what now is to, as you said, ‘Demon Lord’, as ‘M’rachtachtken’ is ‘Demon-kind’.
Among the M’rachkenta grew a masterful agent, one who displayed more gifts from The Father then the other eight M’rachkenta. The Father was secretive, allotting more gifts to his primary favorite. With his power, he vastly multiplied the M’rachtachtken, so much so, that The Mother herself expressed disapproval to The Father. Of the Mother’s Children, Ariadniattes-Sellophloytusmous-Rhetfeliosmosede-Kanerkesserenes, named by you as ‘Ariadni’, was procreated to be most like The Mother, because The Mother so requested to have one set aside for this reason. And so, The Mother asked of her to consult with Gainahtharrinisidious, the M’rachkenta whom was favored most. Gainahtharrinisidious, who knew of her approach because he was most like The Father due to his reception of gifts, beckoned the multitude of M’rachtachtken to leave her be, and agreed to be consulted.
The result of this meeting was cataclysmic, for when she came to meet him, Gainahtharrinisidious forcefully procreated with her against her will, creating the first of the Children of Children. These children were many, a great number which immediately began to combat the M’rachtachtken, children called the Selemandairi, of which you are a long descendant of. The Children of The Mother began to fight with the Selemandairi, against the M’rachtachtken, because Gainahtharrrinisidious’ procreation had failed him, for the Selemandairi were more of The Mother than the Father.
The Mother herself was furious when she saw what had occurred. It took her much will, but she began to craft a solution, a prison in which every bad thing The Father had instilled would be sealed, and the M’rachtachtken War would cease. In your mortal years, the war lasted longer than what would be a millennia, for the crafting of her will was the extension of the gifts she could give; her attribute. They were long in making.
She sealed away The Father, sealing along with him his influence. The gifts of his he had once bestowed upon the M’rachkenta grew corrupt; for this was the curse of The Father.
The nine became twisted and deformed, the beauty they once inherited from The Mother completely vanished, and Gainahtharrinisidious, who was most like The Father, he became the most twisted. The Mother quickly forged for him a prison much like that of The Father’s, for with his corrupted power the M’rachtachtken grew insane and much more powerful.
Gainahtharrinisidious’ last gesture was to utilize his procreation to make all of the M’rachtachtken immortal till slain, and set upon them a curse defiled by his likeness to The Father, a curse of favoritism. They would never wander far from him for long. Because of this curse, The Mother sealed away them with he; for all hope for them had been lost.
The death of the Selemandairi and the M’rachtachtken was many. The Mother saw that all was not in order, and that the Selemandairi, an extension of the will of the The Father through Gainahtharrinisidious, were not to be cohabited. For them, she sealed them away in a place in likeness to that which they came, the place where you are from, Chiel, because they had done no wrong. She separated us, who reside in Alphairria, from you, who reside in Thyinairinn, which in your language, probably means, ‘The Middle’, because you were partially procreated from Gainahtharrinisidious, who received that power of procreation from The Father himself.
A problem still existed in Alphairria, for the residue of the tragedy remained, as did the eight who were the Children of The Father. The Mother sealed a part of Alphairria to Xophaltez, where we are, the prison of Gainahtharrinisidious, along with The Children of the Father.
Now through the course of great toil and war during the M’rachtachtken War, Alphadeusmata-Toulindas had consummated with my mother, Sanshiyhatyarres-Alellendenarres-Finditeismicalleandeas-Nmamorandastolophloian, in the way that the Mother designed. I was born.
Ariadniattes-Sellophloytusmous-Rhetfeliosmosede-Kanerkesserenes, whom bore the stench of Gainahtharrinisidious, mother of the Selemandairi, turned away from The Mother, and out of her likeness to The Mother, sealed away me within the realm of Xophaltez.”
At long last, she ceased to speak, and I watched as the daughter of the gods began to shed tears. I apologize for my own tears on this paper, for the scene was heart wrenching and still brings heat to my eyes. I must write more later, for I am overcome with emotion.