Inferno Ascended

The house on the other side of the hill was a place Glax really wanted to see. 

Thersos had said that the 'necromancer Sarpedon' was the master of this house. But did Damiamon refer to it as his? The Valosian was also eager to find out what the vselys' relationship to Sarpedon was.

He saw the manor built in terraces, well protected in a high position and with walls and moats surrounding the state. He identified well-kept orchards and vegetable gardens, and even small herds. An aqueduct with a water pump and a floor heating system like the one at the spa made the house as luxurious as Chriseis's. 

He thought of the cold and discomfort of Marbium and even Rusa, and he thought it must really cost a hefty sum of money.

"Lord Damiamon, wasn't this the house they said was Sarpedon's?" He decided to break the ice even before they got to the house. He saw the servants look frightened at the arrival of people along with their master.

"Indeed." The vselys shrugged. "I don't know what you know, but he couldn't… enjoy what he built anymore."

'Hm, what an interesting way of saying that you have blatantly usurped what wasn't yours. Very good. I'll take note of it.'

In fact, Glax was becoming more and more convinced that vselys was the most unpredictable guy he'd ever met. Nothing that had worked with other guys had worked with him. He had very volatile moods, he was very shrewd, and Glax still couldn't quite understand him. It was better to continue to be careful when dealing with him.

After they reached the house, and the Valya's Cauldron was placed in the atrium, they went to a room where a fire was lit and snacks and strong wine were served. 

Even though it was officially summer, this region was permanently chilly even when it was sunny. But as the vselys had predicted, dark clouds were gathering in from the east.

The owner of the house left them alone for a moment, saying he would be back soon.

Glax was grateful for the idea of ​​a snack, even more so when it came to meat and tasty things. His last good meal had been at the brothel in Marbium several days ago. He admonished Alexander to wash his hands before eating.

"This boy doesn't even look like a son of Archigeos! You are already on Death's side, you don't need to swallow dirt to speed up his work."

"I don't take stupid people, only heroes. They are the only ones the Lord of the Dead is in a hurry to see." Mors explained.

"So whichever of the two who died today in the duel would be taken? And… Why are you with us, Lord Marce… Mors? Marcellus? What should I call you?" the boy asked.

"Never call him." sneered Glax. Mors responded seriously, however.

"Damiamon Oefer is not considered a hero. It's more of an intruder and an Exotic Monster of Type 2 Danger."

Alekos gaped. The Exotic Monster of Danger Type 2 entered the room, cleaned and changed, and carrying a fancy box.

"Lord Mors, it's an honor to meet you. And in an unexpected and welcome way." Damiamon spoke respectfully, offering the gift.

Mors, who had just been gossiping unflattering things about the host, made a funny face. Glax held back a laugh, even as he was surprised by the vselys's sudden gentleness.

"I don't usually get presents, and it's been a long time since I've seen a 'real' vselys. Sorry for my poor reaction." Mors took the box, while the strange vselys smiled contentedly.

"Thanks for leaving me out of the conversation. I'm a real vselys, in the word's sense. I only have Stygian citizenship. It's registered in a document, in the Hall of Bones," Glax complained.

"I'm curious about all this." Damiamon sat with them, and poured himself some wine. "I heard rumors about a child, but I never paid attention to it. And… Even with half your face covered by that stupid mask, I know you're that motherfucker's son. And just because I'm not such an idiot as to take it out on you for all the trouble he caused… Agh, maybe it's hard to get used to your face, really."

"Hey, calm down. No offense. Take it easy. Whose son?"

"Who else's, Achmeron. The emperor of that damn fantasyland."

Glax was glad he was already seated.

'Oh. Got it. I really am living a literal Greek drama. Of course! The love triangle between Kalanthe, Achmeron and Demophon was thus resolved. That's why the Archigeos kept looking at me so funnily. And even Alexandre and,... even my father-in-law…! What an idiot!'

"It would have saved me a lot of trouble to know all this before," he only managed to say that, still digesting the information. 'Did Chriseis know?'

"Ahem. Master, didn't you know? Why do you wear the mask, if not for it?" Alekos asked.

Glax took a long sip of the strong wine before answering. "No, Alekos, this mask has another purpose. When I was a little younger than you, someone did this and left me for dead. But it didn't work. I didn't die."

He took off his mask. 

The boy in front of him widened his eyes. The vselys frowned. Only Mors pressed his lips together to keep from chuckling.

"What are you doing?! Do you think this is a joke, Lord Mors?!" This time Glax didn't take it easy. Not at that revealing and sensible moment.

"Sorry. You know one side of your face is more tanned than the other, don't you?" Mors wiped tears of laughter as he tried to control himself.

"Stupid Death. To you I may be a joke, but this is not a fun thing to wear, day after day, year after year. You pay me for this, Mors," he growled in response.

"Hey. Use your anger to slaughter whoever did this. It is true. Achmeron has already been raised by necromancy." Damiamon spread his arms wide.

"Who did this, Master?" Alekos asked shyly.

"I don't know. I lost my memory in Armorion." He wondered to himself what had made him open up so easily all of a sudden. The simple fact of Damiamon's friendly reaction to meeting a fellow countryman? The food and wine? Having almost died earlier? Or the shock of the news of being a son to the Emperor of Stygia?

Mors stared at his fingers and fell silent, while Alekos patted his shoulder and the vselys scratched his chin worriedly.

"So you need to find out who did this and get revenge!" he explained, as if it were the obvious step to take.

"I have something more important to do before this. And everything is interconnected. Lord Damiamon, you have the Valya's Cauldron. As you said, a warrior's life isn't as important as what's in there. And I need to know what it is."

"An Explorer. Ah! The stupid emperor banished us after everything we gave to Stygia. All because he called us threats and turn his back on us. While all we did was try to save all of us. Something not even the gods of this place were able or willing to do."

The emotion-laced, rancor-filled comment didn't do much for Glax, so he repeated the question, calmly and slowly.

"What did an Explorer do? And why does it have to be inside that box? And perhaps just as important: how and why did you help Sarpedon, if the Valya's Cauldron is so important to you?"

"Right. Let's go from the beginning." Damiamon took another sip of wine. "You're going to have to hear the whole story, how it happened, or how I remember it. I've been here for a long time."

"Oh, I got it. You've come with the pioneers." Glax nodded, realizing that Damiamon might not be immortal like a god, but he was a long-lived being. Glax wasn't sure what he was. He surely wasn't a machine. But he wasn't human either. 

He could tell because of what kept Glax from manipulating time to affect the vselys. The Valosian suspected that maybe he just needed to learn how, but the 'shield' around a vselys wasn't all that impenetrable.

"Well. I was there, at my house. So Kaine… You don't know him, but he's the fucking Ruler of Valya. One fine day he came to my house. I should have known this couldn't be a good thing. In fact, I knew it. But he went to my house. And said, "Damiamon old guy, I need you. You need to help me do this. You have to go through the Mist, you have to get to Hell. You need to do this, and this, and this…. All very complicated. And…" He again made a wide gesture showing how resigned he was. "This idiot in front of you, even without understanding half of what he had said, thought it could be easy. That it could be fun. I was fucking bored, wasn't I? Maybe that son of a bitch flattered me a little, boosted my stupid ego, and whatnot. Now I am here, unable to return to my home. But I won't give up. I'll go home. I'll come home."

Damiamon wasn't very linear in his account, but he was the only source Glax had. The Valosian poured more wine for his host, who raised his glass in a toast before turning the glass over in one gulp.

"So a special ship was built. Only the best would come. I was the leader of the expedition. The instruction was accurate. We had to get to hell. Not this one. Not Stygia, but we would certainly have to go through Stygia. And we would have to get to the depths of Hell, a place called Tartarus. The place where the Olympians were thrown in. And once there, we should seek and destroy the machine."

"What machine?!" Alexandre and Glax asked in unison.

"Ananketon.. The End Weaving Machine," he said in a solemn, somber tone.