Chapter Music: "Lair of the Forgotten" by Derek Fiechter
After a fiery exchange of whispers between Orias and another intimidating couple of demon guards, we were allowed to enter.
"I underestimated their suspicion," Orias muttered to himself, leading our way through the darkness. "Why would I betray my friend after a thousand years' worth of tests?"
"Did they accuse you of... something?" I asked, curious.
"It wasn't only me they accused," he explained sharply. "Merihem and you are the prime suspects for those who are unaware of the details."
'And what kind of details are you referring to?' I meant to ask before my nostrils were violated by the most horrid of smells.
"Here," Orias gave me a vial filled with an olive green liquid. "It will reduce your sense of smell by half. I imagine you want to have some idea about what's going on here."
I thanked him and reluctantly gulped down the potion. He seemed to know awfully much about me. Either he was abnormally perceptive or Astaroth had indeed shared a lot with him.
"Merihem, you've never been here before, right?" I asked my awfully silent friend.
He shook his head. "I've heard a lot though." Whatever that was, it seemed to be frightening him.
As for me, I didn't need to witness anything with my eyes to know what kind of place I had entered. Astaroth's twisted nature was hardly new anymore. Besides, it wasn't the first time I was experiencing cruelty. Neither the faint screams nor the unbearable stench had really taken me aback.
"So how is this his?" I asked Orias.
"Although he was the founder of this marvel, he assigned its administration to a few trusted friends during his absence. His Majesty would only visit from time to time to play with his new... exhibits and check with the old ones."
My mind automatically conjured up the image of an ecstatic Astaroth taking his time with his corpses and my heart clenched in sorrow.
"You keep calling him 'His Majesty'. He's not a King anymore, is he?"
"I... this is for another time," he replied, furrowing his brow. "Let's move on."
I wonder if I should look more into it.
"I think this is as far as I'll go," Merihem stated with resolve suddenly.
"Why?" It would be a pity not to experience at least a part of such a gruesome place.
"Sophia, how can you be so calm? It's living people we're talking about!"
"Do you think you're staying pure just by closing your eyes?" Orias raised his voice, somewhat disturbed. "There's knowledge waiting even in the darkest corners!"
"I'm already aware of all that! Astaroth always asserted the same principles. But what I need isn't wisdom but some peace of mind! You can't imagine how–"
"You fool! How can you reject wisdom when it's offered to you?"
Okay, this is getting out of hand. I'd love to watch but there are more pressing matters to be dealt with. Needless to say, though, Orias's outburst had slightly shocked me. Apparently, there was a lot more to his relaxed persona than I'd suspected.
"That's okay, Merihem," I said, interrupting their quarrel. "We'll meet you later?"
My friend breathed out, a hint of gratitude on his face. "Yeah, reach my consciousness when you return to your room."
I forced a smile before he left and turned to the man beside me: "Are you sure you want to go through the trouble of showing me around? An honest explanation is all I need."
Orias only grinned. "If he likes you, I like you. You're a terrific guest, after all."
His genuine answer relieved me and I smiled gratefully.
"Now, we can either go upstairs or downstairs," he continued. "I'd very much prefer the former."
"Can't we visit both? What's on each level?"
"Upstairs is where the tortures are being held. Underground are all the dead, both the well-preserved ones and all the rest. Unfortunately, I suspect the museum will close soon today due to the... circumstances. So we only have time for one."
"Why do you prefer the tortures?"
"There's more to do there." His eyes nervously flicked downward.
Tormenting people sure sounds a lot more proactive than corpse-seeing. But isn't Orias supposed to only show me around, considering the shortage of time? Or does the upper level really have so much more 'exhibits'?
He seems like he's hiding something but I'd expect him to do a better job if that was the case. Is his anxiety actually a bluff, in order for me to choose the basement, or is he genuinely worried that a morgue would seem more interesting to me?
"I think I'd rather visit the dead," I stated. A collection of corpses could hide more secrets than a variety of torture devices.
"Are you sure?" Orias knitted his eyebrows, clearly troubled.
"Very much so." I smirked.
"Follow me," he said, regretfully, and started descending the stairway with me on his (literal) tail.
In the meantime, I couldn't help but note that every single detail of my surroundings appeared to be in harmony with that establishment's dark purpose. The almost complete absence of light in the building was perhaps among the most decisive factors to instill awe in its visitors. I had to seriously watch my step as my feet touched those ancient-looking stones.
We had almost reached the dimly lit corridor when Orias's delighted moan startled me.
"I really can't focus on my friend's lamentation," he breathed, "when we come across such delicate aromas."
Tsk. What a statement to think about.
"Aromas?" I ignored the part about Astaroth.
"Oh, don't scrunch your nose that much," a much more uplifted Orias reprimanded and opened one of the many identical doors around us. "This is the smell of justice."
I let out a sorrowful laugh as we stepped into the first room. "You two can be much alike."
"Hey, dude," a lightly dressed, muscular demon walked up to us before I had the chance to notice anything. "The usual, right?" he asked Orias and handed him a black lace band.
"What is this?" I outstretched my arm to inspect the fabric but Orias retracted it in the last moment.
"Don't touch it!" he warned and turned to the other man. "Thanks but I'm only a guide today."
"Is this the King's–"
"Yes. And he's instructed me to show her why he was imprisoned."
Imprisoned? Had he been taken to the prison Merihem had once talked to me about? Damn. That was the option which was supposed to be worse than death. We really had to set him free.
"Oh right, I heard the news a while ago," the man said, genuinely concerned. "You must make a public announcement or the whole Kingdom will soon fall apart."
"The remaining governors are on it."
The demon only nodded, somewhat relieved. "How did this happen?"
"Perhaps it's not the right time to–" Orias tactfully tried to avoid the topic.
"Oh, please tell us," I insisted. The 'tour' would have to wait.
Thankfully, he finally decided to break the silence. He sighed in defeat and started explaining: "It seems that the angels just decided to punish Astaroth for a museum they've been overlooking for years. That was their official reason, of course."
"Why would they overlook the existence of this place for such a long time?" I inquired.
"The King had never really cared about his life so he kept provoking the government by openly slaying more and more people," the other demon replied. "He'd think, 'Even if they come and get me, I'm gonna kill myself before they lay their hands on me'. But ain't you his plaything or something? You should've caught that already."
Having affirmed how little Astaroth valued his life, I felt a pang in my chest. No matter how hard I tried not to jump to conclusions, the answer was always the same: Astaroth had no good reason to stay alive. At least, not until recently.
"Now, now, Caim," Orias reproached, "Sophia's not his plaything. He was serious about her. After all, this is why he preferred torment to suicide."
"Bullshit. The true choice was between imprisonment and war," the other demon corrected, raising an eyebrow. "He sacrificed himself for the sake of his kind!"
The man named Caim kept talking while all I could think about was his very first words.
Astaroth actually had a choice.
Of course! Another Grey War! Who cares about the casualties?! We'd have more time together and he wouldn't have to endure the eternal hell of that prison! Why did he choose to leave? Why did he have to sacrifice himself?!
All of a sudden, I felt the touch of a hand on my shoulder. Orias was trying to console me, looking as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Yet his concerned expression was not entirely sincere. There was something more hidden there; something like accusation. Was I imagining it?
"The angels were afraid of yet another big war," he explained to both of us before I had the chance to think through my theory. "Once the angels were informed about the continuation of the Silver Reign–"
"Silver Reign?" I interrupted.
"Oh, that is when the most powerful living demon becomes King – if nothing else, this is what the oldest history books allude to. Even so, there has never been another King except for Astaroth. Up until yesterday, the realm was being governed by a small council because he didn't want to engage himself in politics. Yet I was the one who made him..." His voice faded and his face was filled with regret.
"Is it certain that him becoming King is the true reason?" I asked not only to comfort him but to also get to the bottom of the problem. "It seems like such an obvious mistake."
"Perhaps that was only a pretext," he admitted, regaining his composure, "but I can't rule it out. Anyway, a silver-horned demon is technically stronger after the coronation and the angels were afraid of the possibility of such a demon coordinating the whole race. They were fearful of being overthrown so they took action before their doubts became reality. It also appears that your friend's arrival in the Kingdom was the triggering event of their actions. They probably thought that Astaroth personally asked for his trainee to aid him in planning a war."
"What the hell are you going on about?" Caim asked in disbelief. "King Astaroth couldn't be thinking of starting a war after all these years."
That was self-evident, especially considering that he'd chosen imprisonment instead. Besides, Merihem had left the Academy for personal reasons.
"He may have rejected the option of a war but I didn't. Not in the beginning." Orias spoke then, immediately silencing my thoughts.
He turned to me and made sure I fully fathomed the accusation in his eyes, this time: "You were the key to making Astaroth omnipotent. You were the energy source he needed in order to kill them all. And he would gladly do so if your safety during a war was ensured. I'm sure the angels saw the same potential that I did."
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