Telfenham had decided on the plan long before. He had known when they evaded the Bladereavers what had to happen. He had known when he watched his only son sink deeper into his own mind, stayed only by the amulet he had wrought that hung about his neck. He knew it would take everything and he knew he had to give anything. When he told the story of Asmodeus it was just the beginning. But to take off his amulet in the ninth level of hell was the solidifying factor of his suicide.
He shouted orders to his son to aid Gilean, which he knew Velentham, though pained and panicked, would follow. He sped ever faster toward the crevasse, propelled by not only his spells, but his very essence. He locked his heart with the deepest, darkest, and most ancient in all the Nine Hells and sped toward it like an arrow to its mark. The closer he came, the darker became his mind.
Telfenham was far ahead of Velentham and Gilean, yet he was still connected. He felt his son's heart - the terror. He telepathed with the last of his sanity, "Ahead - it is ahead... blue... black... portal. Go to it... go through it... fly out of Ribcage beyond to Sigil. Do you understand?!"
"I WON'T LEAVE YOU!" Velentham shouted aloud.
"Nor... will I. We all go!" Gilean telepathed.
"No time... for this... you two will do as I say."
From the depths of the Serpent's Coil rose the darkest of shapes. It seemed to fill the crevasse with the frozen chill of evil. Demons that had risen to give chase suddenly veered off and fled. The size was more than emmense, and Asmodeus himself rose in the shade. Telfenham turned back to look at his son and Gilean. "GO!" he screamed.
Telfenham knew what he had to do... and it had to be done now. To ensure the safe passage of his son, to get his nephew home, to set right what he had done in bringing Gilean so far away and enabling his son to get away with so much. He only hoped that his son would learn, would grow, and would understand.
With the last of his strength, Telfenham let his mind go. The fury of rage flooded his veins as he dove straight into the heart of Asmodeus' massive shade. He let his rage dismantle him, his light spilled from his skin - all was bright, then - eternal darkness.
Clarity
Velentham did not know how much time had passed - his mind was locked in a state of perpetual rage and lethargy. The glow in his eyes blinded him to everything but the darkness of evil which seemed to be everywhere. His mind cleared only at his father's touch, "Velentham, come. We must prepare to leave at once."
"Will we battle them?" he asked, staring out at the dragons in the sky.
"Let us hope not this time..." Gilean said.
"Long ago," Telfenham began, "a celestial name Asmodeus was born and thrown from the realm of Elysium. He was ejected so far, so fast, he shot through the plains and made that crevasse you see. This citadel... is not the true citidel. It is in that hole... along with his body."
At the mere mention of the name, Velentham grabbed his father by the shoulders. "Why? Why did you do that?!" Velentham knew about the legend. He knew the consequence for speaking the name aloud. None had ever survived longer than a day after speaking it.
"We will fly hard, fly fast... once we leave this tower, they will see us and they will follow. There will be no time for hesitation. You will have to follow me to the portal and question nothing."
Why his father did what he did, Velentham did not understand. It upset him greatly, but perhaps the myth was nothing more than a childhood tale meant to make new Celestials behave. "Are you ready?" his father asked.
"Remember, question nothing, and move with haste. Your life depends on it."
"All of ours do," Gilean replied.
At the last moment, in horror, Velentham watched his father take off his own amulet. With nimble fingers, his father placed it upon Velentham's neck, and with a look of pain filled regret, the elder Celestial lept from the spire and into the sky.
"NO!" Velentham lept from the spire but no matter how hard he strained, he could not keep pace with his father. Far behind them a black dragon caught wind of the excitement, it's undulating body coiling through the air to close the gap. Still, Velentham sped after his father. "FATHER! NO!" He knew then what the elder meant to do, and he had to do everything in his power to stop him.
"Will we battle them?" he asked, staring out at the dragons in the sky.
"Let us hope not this time..." Gilean said.
"Long ago," Telfenham began, "a celestial name Asmodeus was born and thrown from the realm of Elysium. He was ejected so far, so fast, he shot through the plains and made that crevasse you see. This citadel... is not the true citidel. It is in that hole... along with his body."
At the mere mention of the name, Velentham grabbed his father by the shoulders. "Why? Why did you do that?!" Velentham knew about the legend. He knew the consequence for speaking the name aloud. None had ever survived longer than a day after speaking it.
"We will fly hard, fly fast... once we leave this tower, they will see us and they will follow. There will be no time for hesitation. You will have to follow me to the portal and question nothing."
Why his father did what he did, Velentham did not understand. It upset him greatly, but perhaps the myth was nothing more than a childhood tale meant to make new Celestials behave. "Are you ready?" his father asked.
"Remember, question nothing, and move with haste. Your life depends on it."
"All of ours do," Gilean replied.
At the last moment, in horror, Velentham watched his father take off his own amulet. With nimble fingers, his father placed it upon Velentham's neck, and with a look of pain filled regret, the elder Celestial lept from the spire and into the sky.
"NO!" Velentham lept from the spire but no matter how hard he strained, he could not keep pace with his father. Far behind them a black dragon caught wind of the excitement, it's undulating body coiling through the air to close the gap. Still, Velentham sped after his father. "FATHER! NO!" He knew then what the elder meant to do, and he had to do everything in his power to stop him.
Brief Respite
Telfenham and Gilean both arrived on the ground, blasted by a downdraft but able to keep themselves from further harm by landing more delicately. Velentham laid on his side, howling with pain, his baying echoing with the sound of hundreds of Gelugon feet as they tromped down the sides of the pit. "Hurry, we must get through the portal," Telfenham said, encouraging Gilean to heal his son.
Velentham rose, swaggering drunkenly, spittle and blood dripping from his mouth, whispering incoherently. Telfenham knew they had only moments. "What is he doing... wasting his energy?" Gilean asked.
"He may well get us all killed. We should never have attempted this."
"And I suppose him being sent into a bloodlust as he wades through all of those guards with swords in hand would have fared better."
There was no time to argue. Telfenham located the portal and dragged all three through. They arrived at the tallest spire in the citadel of Malsheem. They were in the ninth level and the very smell of the air told of the millions of hell spawn of all kinds that called the place home. In the air, black dragons sailed among the sweltering air currents. Purple clouds let loose arcs of jagged lightning. For the first time Telfenham was faced with what looked like an utterly impossible situation.
"We need to find a place to rest," Gilean said over the sound of Velentham vomiting.
"We are in grave danger, Gilean. Those dragons will certainly detect us if we fly from here."
"Then how are we to descend?"
Telfenham rose and walked to a crenelle, scanning the horizon before spotting a mountain. "We must go there. Do you see it?" Gilean walked over and nodded his agreement. "Before that mountain is the deepest crevasse in this entire plane. If we need rest, we should do it here. For the moment we leave this spot..."
"Then that is what we must do," Gilean said. "Velentham needs to gather himself and I do hot have the strength to heal myself."
"This is as gathered as he will be. This is the warning I gave. It is only with effort that I am not as reduced as he. I better understand how to ride the rhythms of my body... he... does not."
"That is why I did not want him on this journey."
The comment was all Telfenham could stand. He knew his son was a danger on the journey, but after nearly five months time spent together, he could not understand how Gilean could still harbor such resentment. "Do you honestly intend to sit here pitying that my son is along on this foolish journey? Have you no sense of camaraderie at all? Can you not for once simply be grateful for the company that surrounds you?"
"I... I'm sorry."
"We will go when you are ready," Telfenham said, settling down on the tall rampart.
Velentham rose, swaggering drunkenly, spittle and blood dripping from his mouth, whispering incoherently. Telfenham knew they had only moments. "What is he doing... wasting his energy?" Gilean asked.
"He may well get us all killed. We should never have attempted this."
"And I suppose him being sent into a bloodlust as he wades through all of those guards with swords in hand would have fared better."
There was no time to argue. Telfenham located the portal and dragged all three through. They arrived at the tallest spire in the citadel of Malsheem. They were in the ninth level and the very smell of the air told of the millions of hell spawn of all kinds that called the place home. In the air, black dragons sailed among the sweltering air currents. Purple clouds let loose arcs of jagged lightning. For the first time Telfenham was faced with what looked like an utterly impossible situation.
"We need to find a place to rest," Gilean said over the sound of Velentham vomiting.
"We are in grave danger, Gilean. Those dragons will certainly detect us if we fly from here."
"Then how are we to descend?"
Telfenham rose and walked to a crenelle, scanning the horizon before spotting a mountain. "We must go there. Do you see it?" Gilean walked over and nodded his agreement. "Before that mountain is the deepest crevasse in this entire plane. If we need rest, we should do it here. For the moment we leave this spot..."
"Then that is what we must do," Gilean said. "Velentham needs to gather himself and I do hot have the strength to heal myself."
"This is as gathered as he will be. This is the warning I gave. It is only with effort that I am not as reduced as he. I better understand how to ride the rhythms of my body... he... does not."
"That is why I did not want him on this journey."
The comment was all Telfenham could stand. He knew his son was a danger on the journey, but after nearly five months time spent together, he could not understand how Gilean could still harbor such resentment. "Do you honestly intend to sit here pitying that my son is along on this foolish journey? Have you no sense of camaraderie at all? Can you not for once simply be grateful for the company that surrounds you?"
"I... I'm sorry."
"We will go when you are ready," Telfenham said, settling down on the tall rampart.
The Pit
No sooner than they had entered the portal than the assault of cold hit them full on. They had come upon the city of Mephistar, but of course, not being invited inside, they were left out in the cold. The City of Ice as it was known was not a welcoming place, less because of the denizens that walked huddled against the chill of the streets, but more for the outer boundaries where massive ice-floes ran full speed across the landscape, crashing into one another and creating giant avalanches. The constant sound of crashing giants rattled the very ground like an earthquake, and at each rush, Velentham spiraled deeper into madness. His eyes glowed constantly, seeing nothing, and Telfenham was forced to guide his son by the hand most of the way.
Flying was precarious and on more than one occasion, Telfenham had to whisk the group out of the way of a speeding glacier - some complete with frozen bodies that stared out in soundless horror as they rushed to their doom. Across the landscape, yet another deep chasm yawned. It was the Pit and it was filled with narrow switchbacks all the way down to the bottom. Air would rush up suddenly and stop just as fast, excluding the ability to fly to the bottom. They would have to climb down and fight if needed.
They only made it mere feet down the path before a devil sounded the alarm. Gelugons rushed out, their insectoid chatter suddenly filling the pit. Dozens ran from the guard posts and began heading up the side of the pit, and Telfenham felt his heart sink. "We have to fly!" he yelled. "Try your best to avoid the downdrafts! Grab Velentham's other arm and dive!"
Telfenham and Gilean, Velentham in tow, lept from the ledge. Unable to follow, the Gelugons screeched their commands and began to head down the sides of the pit. Flight was indeed a challenge as the sudden onslaught of rushing air tore the three apart, sending Gilean higher and Telfenham lower. The elder celestial stared upward in horror as his son, delerious with Celestial rage yet cowed by the amulet, twisted in the air until he was pushed down by the force of a gust that slammed him into the bottom of the pit.
Flying was precarious and on more than one occasion, Telfenham had to whisk the group out of the way of a speeding glacier - some complete with frozen bodies that stared out in soundless horror as they rushed to their doom. Across the landscape, yet another deep chasm yawned. It was the Pit and it was filled with narrow switchbacks all the way down to the bottom. Air would rush up suddenly and stop just as fast, excluding the ability to fly to the bottom. They would have to climb down and fight if needed.
They only made it mere feet down the path before a devil sounded the alarm. Gelugons rushed out, their insectoid chatter suddenly filling the pit. Dozens ran from the guard posts and began heading up the side of the pit, and Telfenham felt his heart sink. "We have to fly!" he yelled. "Try your best to avoid the downdrafts! Grab Velentham's other arm and dive!"
Telfenham and Gilean, Velentham in tow, lept from the ledge. Unable to follow, the Gelugons screeched their commands and began to head down the sides of the pit. Flight was indeed a challenge as the sudden onslaught of rushing air tore the three apart, sending Gilean higher and Telfenham lower. The elder celestial stared upward in horror as his son, delerious with Celestial rage yet cowed by the amulet, twisted in the air until he was pushed down by the force of a gust that slammed him into the bottom of the pit.
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