The Mother of Monsters–who had come to be known by so many names over the ages that she had forgotten the one she had been born with–smiled to herself. A new Nightslayer had come into being for the first time in millennia, and there was every indication that this one was going to be a powerful one, indeed. Would he, though, prove as easy to corrupt as the others had? If not, it would be a welcome challenge, and, perhaps, allow the Mother of Monsters–whose most common name among the people of the world the current Nightslayer had come from was Hel–to finally have a chance of ridding herself of the boredom that had become her daily life of living with Magnus. Magnus–who hated that name, and preferred to be called either the Hidden King, or the King in Yellow–wasn’t the same man Hel had corrupted all those centuries ago, and had grown far too proud of himself and his power for Hel to be truly comfortable.
Had Hel made a mistake when she’d seduced and corrupted Magnus? It was possible, but, provided this new Nightslayer could be turned, it was one she could live with. Hel’s smile faded. What if this new Nightslayer couldn’t be turned? What if he turned out to be something different than his predecessors had been? What if he turned out to be something more? He might still turn out to be useful, Hel thought. He might be the one who leads me to the Key.
The Key, of course, had always been her goal. None of the other Nightslayers she’d turned, of course, had turned out to be the least bit useful in finding it, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t been useful, at all. They’d kept things in check–even after their banishment to the unimaginatively named Sundered Halls–and were now, once again, free to stir up as much chaos and destruction as they saw fit. Hel would let them have that–for a while, at least–and then she would rein them back in, just as she always had. The fallen Nightslayers–Demon Lords, to the superstitious simpletons of the worlds they came from–were hers, and, no matter what Magnus said or did, always would be. But, Hel wondered, again, what of this new Nightslayer? What was he going to be like?
That he was going to be powerful Hel could tell right away. Only one other–the fool Solanas, who had walked away from the power of the Nightslayer because he’d been afraid–had ever come close to the power the current Nightslayer held. This current Nightslayer could slay any of Hel’s Demon Lords without a second thought, and might even–based on what Hel could sense–give Hel a run for her money, herself. He might even be able–Hel realized, her stomach feeling a bit queasy–be able to kill her, given all of the right conditions had been met. But, Hel reasoned, those conditions could never be met. Not after Geoffrey and his all-too-close friend Aaron had banished themselves to the Void. Once they had done that, they had made sure that no one like them–or like Hel, herself–could ever exist in the cosmos, again. Hadn’t they?
And what if they hadn’t? Hel rose from her bed, stretched luxuriantly–some might even have called it sensually, especially considering her scantily-clad state–and walked over to the window. The view out her window was whatever she wanted it to be–this being nothing more than a mental construct–and, today, it showed her a peculiar version of a garden. The garden was peculiar because of what it grew–crucified corpses that had been stripped of their skin instead of trees or flowers–but Hel found the sight of it beautiful and calming. If this Nightslayer turns out to be like how we used to be, Hel thought, then that only means I will have to work harder when I move to corrupt him. But nothing can keep me from doing to him what I did to the others. Nothing!
Magnus, of course, would not be pleased when Hel had finished her work, but that hardly mattered. Once she was done, there was nothing Magnus would be able to do. Particularly if the man who had been given the powers of the Nightslayer–his name was Thaddeus, an interesting, and, if Hel remembered correctly, very old name–turned out to have powers beyond that of the Nightslayers who had come before him. If he did turn out to have those powers, and if Hel succeeded in corrupting him–and, seeing as how she had never failed before, how could she not succeed, this time?–then wouldn’t he turn out to be her greatest creation of all? Of course he would, and, Hel reasoned, he would bring power to her that, before, she had only dreamed of. Because he would be the one who, after all this time, finally found the Key. And, once he found it, he would, of course, give it to her.
And then the greatest power of all will be mine! Hel thought. Mine, and mine alone!
Hel looked out her window at the corpses rotting on their wooden crosses and smiled. Great days were coming. Great days, indeed.
No comments:
Post a Comment