Humanity: the practical embodiment of brash greed and the relentless pursuit of power, caring only for themselves and, at times, for a select few. Yet this world had taught me more about the race of man. It wasn’t entirely their fault for all they had wrought, but rather the fault of their creators—or perhaps the whims of a single, imperfect goddess. We Masavoran were no better. Driven by anger, we sought to erase them for their transgressions—yet to do so would have meant committing genocide, wiping out a race for the very sins we despised. And in that, we would be no less monstrous than they.
After stepping through the gateway to the underworld, I was met with an all-encompassing void. There was nothing—no sights, no sounds—nothing but the heavy presence of my own thoughts. The thought of wiping Belzarok out, or how I’d even come about doing it was almost impossibly numbing. Could I really do that to someone of my own species? But how could I hesitate, knowing the horrors Belzarok had unleashed on mankind, the innocent lives torn apart by his war?
"So many questions..." a voice murmured to me. It was crystal clear, haunting in a soothing way, unlike the one from my dreams. "...for such a small creature." The voice laughed softly; it had the tone of a woman.
Feeling an overwhelming urge to respond, I opened my mouth, but no words came out. It was as if my voice had been snatched away, leaving me in a silence that pressed heavily against my ears. I stood there, suspended in the void, waiting anxiously for the voice to speak again.
"Why would you want to come here? To a place so forsaken by all?" the voice inquired gently. It’s soft hum filled the air, "That's right... I always forget... perhaps age is getting to me," she mused, a light laugh escaping her lips.
Suddenly, a flicker of light pierced the darkness, like the flame of a candle igniting in a pitch-black room. The illumination grew steadily, and my vision began to return, unveiling an indescribably sight.
Before me stood a throne of unimaginable proportions—giant, almost colossal in scale. It soared upward, reaching heights that seemed to rival the very mountains, perhaps even taller. The throne wasn't crafted from any earthly material; instead, it appeared to be made of the very stars themselves. Countless celestial bodies twinkled within its structure, shimmering with vibrant light. It was as if someone had plucked the stars from the heavens and woven them into this magnificent seat.
As my eyes traveled upward, they settled upon the figure seated upon the throne. It was she who had spoken—the source of the enchanting voice. She looked human, but something told me otherwise. Her beauty was otherworldly, transcending any mortal concept. Flowing red hair cascaded around her, strands so long and lustrous they seemed capable of enveloping the earth itself. Her face held a serene expression, features finely sculpted. Yet, it was her eyes that captured me entirely—deep, expressive eyes that seemed to hold unimaginable wisdom.
She wore nothing upon her form, yet there wasn’t anything to be seen "That's better, isn't it?" she spoke again, her lips curving into a faint, reassuring smile. "Speak now... go on."
My voice felt almost pitiful in her presence. “Who... who are you?”
She lifted her massive hand, stretching it outward to the side. As her fingers unfurled, the oppressive darkness that had enveloped everything began to recede. It was as if heavy storm clouds were parting to reveal a hidden sky. An endless realm unfolded before me, vast and unfathomable.
"Some call me Vollith," she began, her voice echoing softly through the now-illuminated expanse. As she spoke, I tore my gaze from her and looked around, taking in the surreal landscape that surrounded us. The sight became increasingly unsettling. Men and women trudged along, shackled in chains of molten metal that glowed with a fierce heat. Their faces were etched with expressions of eternal suffering.
But it wasn't just humans; there were other beings as well. Creatures that Odessa and I had encountered before, but also others unlike anything I'd ever seen. They were humanoid in form, yet their features were twisted—elongated limbs, eyes that glowed like embers, skin covered in scales or etched with strange patterns. The sheer diversity and strangeness of them all was humbling in a way.
"You don't like that, do you?" Vollith's voice drew my attention back to her. Her gaze was piercing, as if she could see straight into my soul.
I turned to her uneasily, "Uh... what?" I stammered, unsure of how to respond.
"This place unsettles you, as does my presence," she observed, tilting her head slightly as she studied me. "Llythyrra designed this realm. The creatures you see—the ones that are not human—they are her failed experiments. Their suffering is not of my doing, so do not blame me for their torment."
"But..." I began, a flood of questions rising within me, but she raised a hand to silence them.
"There is more to the afterlife than this," she continued, her eyes drifting over the desolate landscape. "But that territory lies beyond my dominion." A soft, almost mocking laugh escaped her lips. "You mortals are so ignorant of the world you inhabit, so blind to the forces at play." She glanced around with an expression that revealed disdain. "All of these beings—creations of Llythyrra—all except the Masavoran." Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and knowing. "But you didn't come here to listen to my story, little mouse."
"No..." I whispered; my voice barely audible under her intense gaze. It was surreal, standing before a goddess—a being so ancient and powerful. The weight of the knowledge she possessed was incomprehensible; how could any being bear such a burden? And her appearance—it was not what I had expected. She looked so human, which somehow surpriseed me.
"If you were to see my true form," she said almost casually, sensing my thoughts, "the sight wouldn't just destroy your mortal body but annihilate your very soul." A thin smile spread across her cherry-red lips. "Belzarok... yes, you seek to destroy him, don’t you?" Her words slithered through the air, wrapping around me like chains. "But tell me, little one... are you prepared to kill your own kind? To look into his eyes and see a reflection of yourself?" Her voice was a whisper now. "Do you think the gods will absolve you of such a sin? Or will you join them here, in the chains of molten steel, when your time comes?"
"I—I don't... He's a monster," I stammered.
"No more than we all are," she replied with a melodious laugh that echoed through the void. As her laughter subsided, the underworld around us began to dissolve, fading into an abyssal darkness. Vollith placed her colossal hands upon the armrests of her throne, the material shimmering like fragments of lightt. With a graceful motion, she rose to her feet.
"Holy shit..." I muttered under my breath, eyes widening as she gazed down at me, her entire form unveiled in divine splendor. The sheer magnitude of her being was terrifying.
Suddenly, her immense body began to transform. In mere moments, she diminished in size, her towering figure shrinking steadily until she stood before me at an ordinary human height. The transition was seamless, like watching a mountain reduce to a mere hill. I averted my gaze, resisting the urge to look directly at her body or meet her eyes, fearful of the potential devastation that such contact might unleash.
"Do not be so fearful," the goddess soothed, her voice gentle yet commanding. She moved closer, each step fluid, closing the distance between us. Reaching out, she placed a soft hand against my cheek. "I am no malevolent deity..."
Vollith’s fingers traced softly from my face down to my neck before she released me, beginning a slow circle around me. Every spot where her skin had met mine tingled with a comforting heat.
"Feels nice, doesn't it?" she whispered from behind, her breath brushing against my ear. She reappeared in front of me, her eyes studying me intently. "Your physical body deteriorates with every passing moment you remain here, little mouse, especially with that converging soul."
"The what?" I blurted out, momentarily forgetting my fear. "You mean my soul?"
"Your soul?" She chuckled softly. "Oh no... Belzarok's. Soon, you two will be exchanged."
A surge of panic welled up inside me. "Can't you do anything about it? You're a goddess," I implored.
Vollith stopped abruptly, her gaze locking onto mine. She reached out and gently pulled me closer until our faces were mere inches apart.
"I would be interfering with forces beyond my jurisdiction," she replied calmly. "Besides, Belzarok resides in a realm outside of my control. He was banished there by ancient, hell-rotten sorcerers long forgotten by time." She tilted her head slightly, as if waiting for realization to dawn upon me. "Oh, you mortals..." she sighed, a subtle smile curving her lips. "He exists in the space between life and death—a realm I could lead you to, but one I will not enter myself."
“So, you will take me?” I asked.
“You mortals always seek the impossible,” she murmured, almost as if speaking to herself rather than to me. Her gaze drifted into the distance. “But you should know by now—everything comes with a price.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” I pressed, frustration seeping into my tone. Her evasiveness was infuriating.
“Ooh...” Vollith gasped mockingly, lifting her chin slightly. A sly smile played on her lips as she placed a delicate hand upon my chest. “What a way to speak to someone so far above you...” Her touch was warm, yet it sent a chill down my spine. She stepped back gracefully, the space between us filling quietly. “I will take you there, little mouse, for I understand the lengths you've gone to reach this place... but you should be aware.”
“Aware of... aware of what?” I inquired.
“When you confront Belzarok, the energy of his soul will not simply vanish into the void,” she explained, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. “In the physical realm, his soul would journey onward with him, but in that netherworld? It will seek something to bind itself to... and the only suitable vessel it will find is you. That magnitude of energy, that immense power, was never intended for a being like you. You will become... almost unstoppable.”
“So—” I hesitated, my earlier confidence waning. “Why are you helping me?”
Vollith raised a finger to her lips, dipping it into her mouth, before gently tapping my chin. “Because... it will be entertaining,” she replied with a sweet yet subtly sinister tone. “But be careful not to let the corruption consume you...” she warned, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You have a goodness within you.”
“The corruption of his power?” I asked simply. When she offered no further response, I realized that was all she intended to reveal. “I’ll try,” I added softly.
“Hm.” Vollith tilted her head once more, her expression inscrutable. “Good.” I wanted to pull away, to ask more, but something in her gaze told me that would be futile. She had already given me more than most could hope for from a goddess.
“So...” My voice trailed off as her eyes burrowed into me.
“You’re wondering... when, aren’t you?” she mused, shaking her head lightly as if dismissing a trivial thought. Her eyes held a knowing glint. “That’s not up to you. This realm doesn’t perceive the passage of time the way your physical world does. Here, time flows like the cosmos itself.”
She reached out gracefully, her slender fingers brushing the edge of my shirt. Gently lifting it slightly, she continued, “Think of it like your old arrow wound. It’s as if it never existed here.” She let her hand fall back to her side, her gaze never leaving mine.
I felt a surge of impatience. “It’s up to you, so why keep me waiting—” I blurted out, the words sounding harsher than I intended. Realizing my tone, I quickly tried to amend, “Sorry, I mean—”
“‘Why keep me waiting,’” she echoed mockingly in a deepened voice, a sly smile playing on her lips. Her amusement was almost palpable. “No,” Vollith replied simply, her tone almost humorous. “I cannot open that realm until my brother, Othonar, does so with me.”
“Othonar... Othonar...” I repeated, the name rolling off my tongue as if testing its weight. “The... the god of life, right?”
Her expression tightened ever so slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features. “That’s what you mortals call him,” she said, a subtle edge to her voice. Vollith glanced down at her own form, her eyes tracing over her body. “Humans are such a disgusting amalgamation of parts...” she mused. In an instant, a black dress materialized over her, its intricate design resembling a delicate spider web draping elegantly around her. “How could anyone find that desirable?”
“I—” I began, unsure how to respond.
“Don’t answer,” she interjected swiftly, studying me with a keen gaze. “You must wonder why I stand here talking to you. It’s quite rare that I converse with the living, rather than the blithering idiots I oversee.” Suddenly, her head snapped to the right, as if sensing something. “Here we are.”
“Here—what?” I asked, swallowing hard. “What are you...”
She dismissed my question with a slight gesture, her attention shifting. “Othonar,” she announced.
“Vollith,” a deep male voice resonated from the surrounding darkness. The swirling clouds of blackness parted like curtains, allowing a figure to step forward. He was adorned in armor befitting a magnificent knight, the metal gleaming with a purity of gold unlike any I had seen. It was nothing like the tarnished, dull armor of Heladon’s soldiers. His physique was strong and impeccably crafted, muscles defined even beneath the armor. Short hair, almost white-blonde, framed his chiseled features. By her reaction, I surmised this was Othonar—a god whom many had ceased to believe in, or at the very least, forgotten over time.
The two deities locked eyes, an intense silence stretching between them. Even from where I stood, I could sense the disdain, the simmering animosity. It was palpable, like electricity in the air. Talk about sibling rivalry taken to divine extremes.
“Quiet that mind,” Othonar snapped, his gaze flickering briefly to me before returning to his sister. “You wish to open Skarseld?”
“These theatrics are growing stale, brother,” she replied, tilting her head ever so slightly. “Our little mouse here simply wants to save himself.” Vollith glided to my side, her movements fluid and effortless. She reached out and gently pinched my cheek, her touch both playful and condescending. “Isn’t he adorable?”
I pulled her hand away reflexively, a gesture I regretted almost immediately. She didn’t seem bothered. Othonar scoffed, a sound filled with derision. “We were instructed never to do it... What do you think will happen when Llythyrra—”
“Finds out?” Vollith interrupted, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “She left centuries ago. Abandoned humanity, and us along with it. Besides, our dear sister would never harm her favorite sibling.”
“Still holding onto that grudge?” Othonar challenged.
“Grudge?” Vollith’s voice sharpened, a hint of venom seeping in. “I’ve been confined here for three millennia because I desired a bit of fun, just like you two.” She pressed a finger firmly into my stomach, causing me to tense. “The Masavoran were entirely my creation—no less perfect than humanity was—yet she threw a tantrum, and you both imprisoned me here.” She turned her gaze to me, eyes probing. “Would you say that’s a just punishment?” Though directed at me, the question was clearly intended to needle Othonar, who remained stoically silent. “Who knows what might happen if two souls switch between the physical realm and Skarseld. It could be... cataclysmic in the most literal sense. Then what?”
Othonar regarded his sister with a contemplative stare. Finally, he turned to me. “This mortal would never survive such an influx of energy. He will perish if Belzarok is destroyed.”
“You don’t know that.” Vollith replied calmly.
Summoning my courage, I spoke up, my voice wavering slightly under their scrutinizing gazes. “It doesn’t matter if I do,” I said. “Because... as long as Belzarok is gone, I don’t care what happens to me.”
“So heroic...” Vollith laughed lightly, then mimicked a deeper, mocking tone. “Brave and masculine.”
“Whiny, too,” Othonar added dryly.
“Oh yes, his thoughts are quite whiny,” she agreed with a mischievously.
Whiny? That stung. I felt a flush rise in my cheeks. Something about these two was incredibly infuriating.
“Proving our point,” Vollith noted, winking at me. “Now, about opening Skarseld, dear brother.”
There was a long pause as Othonar seemed to weigh his options, an unusual hesitation for a deity. Finally, he sighed. “Only this once.” He fixed me with a stern gaze. “The rift between the underworld and Skarseld will not remain open indefinitely. I advise you to complete your mission swiftly.” Without further ado, Othonar shifted his stance, turning slightly. He extended his arm outward, and from the void, a luminous orb of pure white light began to form. It radiated with such brilliance that I had to shield my eyes, the intensity almost overwhelming. The orb expanded steadily, then projected a beam that pierced through the darkness, swirling with astonishing speed.
Vollith watched the display, her demeanor twisting—perhaps envy, perhaps something deeper. She extended her own slender arm, and a sphere of crimson light materialized, glowing with a softer yet potent energy. A beam shot forth from it, converging with the other.
Together, the intertwining beams of crimson and white began to shape something extraordinary. An immense doorway forged from impossible energies took form, the very air humming with power. It seemed to take minutes, though time felt distorted in this place. With each fragment that assembled, I felt my breath catch. This was it—the confrontation my entire life had been leading up to.
When the gateway was finally complete, it stood before us as a swirling vortex of light. The deities lowered their arms almost in unison, their gazes fixed intently on the portal, a hint of longing in their eyes.
“Mortals get all the fun, don’t they?” Vollith mused abruptly, “Life and death. Pain and love. Adventure and mystery.” A soft, sorrowful laugh escaped her lips. “It’s a burden, knowing everything...”
“Almost everything,” Othonar corrected gently. Their eyes met, holding a silent conversation beyond my understanding. After a moment, Othonar turned his attention back to me. “You should know, this was not the life intended for you,” he said, his voice somewhat regretful. “Yet some things are beyond even my control.” He stepped back, glancing once more at his sister. “Goodbye, Vollith. Perhaps one day, you will be free.” With those final words, he vanished without a trace, leaving nothing but a faint echo.
I turned to Vollith, who now stood with her arms crossed, a crooked smile playing on her lips. “He’s too serious. No fun at all,” she remarked. “Come here, little mouse...” She extended her hand toward me.
I hesitated but found myself moving forward as if drawn by an unseen force. Perhaps it was her doing. As I reached her, she didn't speak until I placed my hand in hers. She closed her eyes briefly. “It's amusing, trying to glimpse the future,” she murmured. “One of the few things I cannot fully see... but sometimes, I catch fragments.” Opening her eyes, she gazed deeply into mine, the depths of her irises swirling. “I have a feeling there is more ahead for you than death,” she said softly, releasing my hand.
Her words, though unexpectedly comforting, did little to quell the mounting anxiety twisting within me. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the silence. Vollith's gaze lingered on me, a flicker of confusion crossing her flawless features. "So much emotion," she mused softly, almost to herself.
The goddess began to step backward, "We shall meet one last time," she informed me, her voice echoing gently in the vast emptiness. "Soon." As she retreated, the swirling clouds of darkness began to envelop her form, tendrils of shadow wrapping around her like a shroud. They twisted and coiled, growing denser until Vollith was completely obscured from sight.
I stood there, alone before the portal, "Shit... shit..." I muttered under my breath, my voice barely audible over the pounding in my ears. I tried to steady myself, inhaling deeply, but my breaths came quick and shallow. This was it—the threshold that would irrevocably alter the course of my life. Perhaps for the better, but more likely for the worse.
"Come on..." I whispered, attempting to summon a shred of courage. My hands trembled at my sides, fingers clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to dispel the fear. Closing my eyes for a moment, I focused on the steady rhythm of my heartbeat, willing it to slow. When I opened them again, the swirling vortex of the gateway loomed before me.
Taking a hesitant step forward, each footfall felt heavier than the last. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, as I approached until the gateway was mere inches away.
"Here we go," I murmured, the words a fragile declaration against the enormity of the unknown. Extending my arm slowly, I watched as my fingertips inched toward the shimmering surface. The portal's energy danced and flickered, colors shifting in an endless cascade. When my fingers finally made contact, I was met with a sensation unlike anything I'd ever felt. It wasn't solid, nor was it liquid—it was a substance that defied comprehension, simultaneously yielding and resistant.
Unlike the gateway to the underworld, which had enveloped me in a cold, consuming darkness, this portal reacted immediately. It clung to my fingers with a viscous grip, pulling me in with an insistent, almost eager force. It was as if I had plunged my hand into living, breathing quicksand.
Panic surged through me, but it was too late to turn back. The portal had seized me, and there was no escaping its grasp. As the rest of my body was consumed, the world around me distorted and blurred. Sounds became muffled, colors smeared together, and gravity seemed to lose its hold.
With a final, deep breath, I surrendered to the pull, allowing the portal to take me wholly.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
