Chapter VII
The Depths of Infinite Despair
Vandaris trudged through the wasteland, dragging his greatsword behind him. Despite not having enough strength to wield the giant blade, he managed to pull it with a single arm. It was not the only burden he carried, for he grasped the short sword in his other hand, and his legs burned under the weight of the tower shield upon his back. He had to leave everything else behind in that cave.
He no longer considered it his home; it was now that cave. That cave of nightmares and misery that hosted the figure who had violated his dreams and stalked him in the shadows, robbing him of his childhood home. Part of him yearned to confront the lurking creature, to discover what it truly was, but every time he looked in its direction, waves of dread crept along his spine, and his resolve crumbled.
What if the figure was an aspect of Aiyana trapped within the cavern’s depths, forever bound by her love for him? Perhaps her aggressive acts and terrifying vestige were her lashing out in fear and anguish. It had never actually injured him, at least not physically. The mere possibility of his mother bound to such a fate left him wondering if he could abandon her to suffer alone, tormented and broken as she reached out in a desperate attempt for someone to save her, only to have her son turn his back to her never-ending pain.
However, deep in the pit of his stomach, Vandaris knew this was not the case. Whatever he was running from could not be her, for he had sensed none of her boundless love and angelic grace within the cave’s confines after she had crumbled to dust, leaving him certain she had forever departed this forsaken land.
Maybe it was a demon or a remnant of something else from the Infernal Realms? What if it was sent by the archdevil? My father.
Vandaris remembered the silence that filled his home immediately after his mother’s death. The cave had felt empty and hollow, where his pain was his only companion. Maybe it was during his weakest moments when the entity had crept in, or perhaps the horrible figure was always there, hiding in the cavern’s darkest corners, watching them go about their lives as it waited for the opportunity to make its haunting presence known.
When Aiyana was by her son’s side, he was nearly invincible, at least in his heart and mind. Alone, Vandaris felt vulnerable, left with the unshakable feeling the Abyss was closing in. Such thoughts were not delusional, as merciless eyes watched from everywhere, endlessly tracking him as hungry mouths and greedy appendages waited just beyond his observation. Eager for their moment to grab hold and drag him into a shadowy pit or crevice where his story would end, forever lost and forgotten.
What if something new had evolved within this world? Developing a consciousness that thought beyond its next meal? A twisted mind that enjoys the suffering of its prey.
Vandaris’s thoughts drifted away from the mysterious figure and lingered on his mother. Tears welled as memories of joy and sorrow mixed into one, denying him any reprieve from his misery while taunting him with images of better times. He fought to suppress these emotions because, at his core, he knew this was what the entity wanted. Through his nightmares, it had preyed upon his grief to make him suffer before finally beckoning him. He no longer merely fought to survive against the beasts of this world. Now, he was keenly aware that creatures of malice lurked within the darkest corners, eager to impose their sadistic will.
Maybe none of it was real. Could I have invented all of it as a reason to flee from that cave and my grief? Or, what if the monster came from within me? Somehow born from my pain.
As disturbing as these thoughts were, Vandaris knew endless contemplation would only lead to more painful questions. So he hardened his resolve and continued his aimless journey.
He crossed trench-filled valleys, carefully traversing narrow ledges, where hungry mouths waited below and glowing eyes watched from within the cracks of the surrounding rocks. Occasionally, Vandaris set the greatsword and shield down and materialized his wings, taking to the sky. He surveyed the surrounding lands, hoping something different would catch his attention and offer hope for a better existence.
Yet Vandaris saw nothing but the same dismal world stretching endlessly in a mocking expanse that nearly broke his will to continue. He wanted to pick a direction, any direction, and fly until his wings gave out and he plummeted to the ground. In his heart, he believed this desperate attempt might be his best chance to discover anything worth finding.
Sadly, to do so meant he would need to leave too much behind, only taking the short sword. The tower shield and greatsword were too heavy to carry while he flew, leaving him vulnerable to aerial predators. So, with each short yet hopeful flight, he returned with his dreams dashed and took on his full burden once more, trudging forward in a never-ending march to nowhere.
Vandaris slept anywhere he could. Sometimes he lay under chaotic skies of rainless storms, watching bolts of cascading colors fracture the Abyssal heavens, illuminating the world around him in a dazzling display of competing lights. These storms had become the one thing that brought him any semblance of joy, for they frightened the creatures of this world, forcing them to cower within their hidden places.
On these occasions, Vandaris would plunge the greatsword into the ground, having discovered that the blade could draw lightning. With each bolt that struck, the pommel’s black stone glowed an ethereal blue. Once the storm subsided, he could feel the sword’s newfound power flow through him when he grasped the hilt, nearly giving him the strength to wield the two-handed weapon. Alas, the energy faded quickly, leaving him to wonder if the sword had consumed it.
Vandaris learned to sleep lightly during tranquil nights. He trained himself to listen for the footsteps of hungry beasts and the slithering of creeping tentacles. This was life as he knew it, and as time passed, he gradually grew. As his strength increased, his burden became easier to bear, and the need to evade the terrible things of this land became less frequent.
He gradually came to see the horrors of this world as his companions, and grew to become every bit the predator they were. When hungry, he ate his fill, his body nourished by the flesh and fluids of what he killed or dismembered.
But in his bleakest moments, when Vandaris’s mind brushed against savagery, Aiyana’s soul would reach out, ensuring that he remembered his true self and did not become lost in primal savagery.
To help keep his mind grounded, he practiced the letters of the languages she had taught him. Before he slept, Vandaris recited the histories of the peoples and lands she had spoken of. And once sleep took hold, he dreamed of art and beauty before his nightmares crept in, corrupting everything they touched.
Although the physical hardships slowly diminished, the nightmares left him in perpetual despair. No happiness had ever found him since Aiyana’s death; he continued growing in stature but not in character, surviving but never truly living.
There was no laughter or love in these formative years, nothing to lift his spirits for even a brief, merciful moment. His mind desired to be nurtured, and his heart yearned to be loved, but all he could do was become numb and realize loneliness was forever in his future.
The moment arrived when Vandaris stood before one of the many pits scattered across the desolate landscape and stared into the gaping mouth of some massive unknown creature. For the first time, he fantasized about jumping in. It was a disturbing thought, leaving him twisted with conflicting emotions, but an end to the pain was enticing.
Vandaris pulled himself away from the precipice, but the desire for a reprieve from his misery filled his thoughts. As the loneliness of this eternal day weighed upon him, he found himself stepping closer to the edge of whichever ravenous pit lay before him. It was the remembrance of his mother’s sacrifice that inevitably stopped him.
He carried a part of her soul within him. Should he choose to end his life, it might destroy what remained of her. Vandaris wondered if Aiyana’s spirit inspired his few pleasant dreams, and without her love, would he be condemned to endless nightmares?
A glimmer of hope touched his heart. Even though he was trapped in this isolated world, he was never alone. He would strive to honor the best part of the trinity that was his conflicted soul, embracing his fate in the hopes that someday, life would be better.
*****
As time marched forward, Vandaris grew. He was taller and his muscles more defined, empowering him to briefly wield the greatsword with both hands. He also practiced summoning Infernal flames from the giant blade. Other abilities developed as well, allowing him to heal deeper wounds and send forth streams of fire from his hands. However, as he changed physically, everything else remained the same.
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Gripped by boredom, Vandaris decided to take flight and explore a distant mountain range. As he soared over the wasteland, a captivating sight piqued his interest. Beyond the mountains sprawled a vast forest of tree-like creatures resembling the ones he and his mother had used for wood. Near the cave, the trees had been scattered across the landscape, making it impossible to harvest them in large quantities, but here they clustered together in the hundreds of thousands.
Thousands of winged beasts clashed in a brutal war above the forest. They slashed and tore at one another, ripping off wings and limbs in their savage bid for dominance. The victors faced new challengers while the defeated plummeted into the trees. More and more creatures flew in from all directions, driven by a single-minded bloodlust. Vandaris marveled at the spectacle and wondered why so many were drawn here and what they were fighting for. Fortunately, they cared more about attacking each other than the lone Nephalem hovering far below.
Vandaris cautiously flew over the dense canopy of green-colored eyes that stared up at him. He tried to discern what lay beneath, but the twisting limbs were too thick. He eventually turned around and flew toward the weapons he had left behind, resolved to reach these woods on foot so he could explore them properly.
With dogged determination, Vandaris walked for what seemed like an eternity. Even with the weight of the shield upon his back and the great blade dragging by his side, he trudged forward without needing to rest, excited that he finally had a destination.
Utterly exhausted, Vandaris arrived at the base of the towering mountains. He pressed his back against a smooth rock and slid to the ground. He had never been hungrier and wanted to hunt, but his legs felt like jelly, and his lungs burned with each rapid breath. Surveying the surrounding lands, he saw only emptiness, and his disappointment grew along with his appetite.
Yet a plethora of life existed above, and Vandaris craned his neck to gaze at the mountains. Echoing roars and screeching cries traveled down the slopes, indicating food and danger awaited. He strengthened his resolve; nothing would deter him, not even the threat of death. And after some much-needed sleep, he would begin his ascent.
When Vandaris awoke, he chose to fly over the mountains twice. On his first trip, he planned to carry the short sword and shield and leave them near the forest. He would then return and retrieve the greatsword. It was a risky plan, but there was no other option, as the range stretched endlessly in each direction.
Much to Vandaris’s surprise, the initial trip went smoothly. He landed safely and deposited the weapons between two boulders that leaned against one another, creating a crude arch. He took a deep breath and flew back to retrieve the greatsword.
Carrying the huge sword into the air proved a more significant challenge than he had anticipated. With this heavier burden, Vandaris could not ascend to the same heights, forcing him to fly along the mountain. As his arms started to shake, he noticed black shapes moving between the rocks.
Horrified, Vandaris realized he did not have the strength to clear the mountain’s peak. He would need to land somewhere within these creatures’ midst, utterly fatigued and with a weapon he could not fully wield.
With his grip slipping and wings failing, he spotted a wide ledge. Vandaris flew toward it with sheer determination, expending the last of his energy before collapsing upon the flat outcropping of stone. Lying motionless on his back, he stared at the mountain’s peak as it rose into the green sky, taunting his failure. With a groan, he rolled onto his side and peered over the ledge. His heart rejoiced: he had flown over three-quarters of the way up.
Vandaris forced himself to his feet, concerned about the lurking horrors he had spotted traversing the mountainside. Oddly, there were no signs of life. Despite his apparent safety, he grew uneasy, realizing everything had gone silent.
Vandaris noticed a gaping space between two boulders. He cautiously approached, peering into the murky opening of a tunnel. Knowing all too well that unknown horrors possibly lurked within, he decided to keep his stay brief. He retrieved the greatsword, determined to drag it up the mountainside.
A thunderous roar emanated from the cavern, freezing Vandaris in his tracks. Hundreds of thin black tendrils slithered out and gripped the edges of the entrance. A hulking mass of flesh bludged between the boulders as it arduously pulled itself free. The grotesque creature was three times his height. It rested upon a writhing cluster of tendrils, its bulbous head covered with dozens of yellow eyes. Its gaze locked onto Vandaris, opening a mouth so broad it could swallow him whole.
The monstrosity advanced, lurching forward on its bed of undulating appendages. A flurry of tendrils wrapped around Vandaris’s leg, pulling him to the ground. As it dragged him toward its gaping maw, he slashed with the blade, severing the tendrils.
It responded by sending out another mass of fleshy whips, but Vandaris rolled out of their way, leaving the greatsword behind. The tendrils swarmed over it and immediately steamed and bubbled as they melted into a foul sticky soup. The monster pulled back as Vandaris extended his hand and shot a blast of fire into its face, melting two of its eyes. He raised the greatsword and charged, using his weight to drive the blade deep into its head. Its anguished howl echoed across the mountains, forcing him to release his grip and cover his ears.
Vandaris regained his composure and pulled out the sword, narrowly avoiding the tendrils that attempted to seize his arm. His sudden retreat left him off-balance, and the creature slammed its head into his body. The blow sent him over the ledge, and time slowed as he fell. He landed on the jagged rocks, feeling his scapula break upon impact.
He opened his eyes, and the world spun. As his vision began to focus, Vandaris looked up at his enemy. It had been searching for a route to its fallen prey, but something else now drew its attention: an enormous black mass crawled down the mountainside. Although everything was still hazy, he discerned six immense limbs extending from the elongated body.
This new beast pounced on Vandaris’s foe, tearing into its soft flesh with powerful claws. The embattled creature struggled to break free, but it was quickly overpowered and dragged toward the cave.
Vandaris pressed his hand against his broken shoulder and healed himself as best he could. He could not afford to expend all his energy, but he was grateful his head had cleared and his vision had returned. Pain still pulsated from the freshly mended fracture, but he could raise his arm. It would have to do.
Deciding to give the cave a wide berth, Vandaris grabbed the greatsword with his uninjured arm and started his ascent. He glanced at the ledge as he dragged the sword up the slope.
A single terrifying arm protruded from behind a boulder. The limb had multiple joints with blades extending from each. Unlike other creatures of the Abyss, its hide appeared far harder, resembling a type of natural armor. Its hand frightened Vandaris the most. It was the size of his torso with claws as sharp as his sword.
He recalled his mother’s teachings about apex predators. This had to be the greatest killer on these mountains, and Vandaris had no interest in a fight he could never win. Consumed by pain and exhaustion, he pushed on until he reached the top of the mountains. He hauled his blade onto the final ridge before collapsing on the flattest surface he could find.
Vandaris lay there far longer than he had intended, staring into the green expanse of the Abyss. Scattered across the void, numerous planets hung in perpetual suspension. He wondered if those worlds were as horrible as this one and if he would ever have the opportunity to find out. Even if they were worse, at least they might be different.
A bone-chilling roar rang in Vandaris’s ears. Rolling onto his stomach, he peered down the mountainside. The great predator had left the ledge and was climbing toward him. His imagination could not have conjured something more terrifying. It lacked a head, but a gaping maw filled with rows of sharp teeth lay at the end of its body.
The monster crawled on its six limbs, crushing rocks under its powerful claws. A dozen tendrils extended from its underbelly, snaking outward as they probed every nook and crevice. Without slowing, one of the tendrils extracted a writhing creature nearly Vandaris’s size. Within the blink of an eye, the monster pulled its prey into its mouth, devouring it instantly.
Vandaris realized the predator was tracking him, and outrunning it was not an option. Despite the greatsword’s weight, he decided to take it into the sky. He summoned his wings and ascended moments before his pursuer reached the mountain’s ridge. Vandaris struggled to put distance between them, but his weakened arm could not maintain his grip, and the sword slipped from his hands.
It plummeted down the rocky slopes, and Vandaris winced as each collision echoed across the valley. He studied the predator and realized it had no eyes as it continued to search the mountainside, unaware of his presence. Once he had taken to the sky, there was no trail to follow.
Vandaris meticulously scanned for the greatsword’s resting place as he descended. He spotted the gleam of steel near a small boulder and landed. He carefully examined the weapon for any damage; to his surprise, neither a scratch nor blemish marked the sword, and the blade displayed no signs of chipped or rolled edges.
Vandaris traveled along the forest’s edge, continuously looking over his shoulder to ensure the predator had not picked up his trail. He eventually arrived at the stone arch, eager to retrieve his mother’s weapons, but they were gone.
Panic hit him like a punch to the gut while he frantically searched the mountainside, praying this was all a simple mistake. He considered the possibility of another stone arch nearby, one strikingly similar to the one before him. After all, it was easy to become confused in a world where the mundane and horrific melded in almost endless repetition.
He took to the sky, checking for any sign of the short sword and shield. He flew back and forth repeatedly, yet his efforts were in vain; there was no trace of them.
Returning to the archway, Vandaris slumped onto a nearby rock. There was one plausible explanation: something must have taken them into the woods. He turned toward the forest and watched as dark shapes lurked within the murky shadows of the grotesque trees. His apprehension grew, and he hesitated.
Staring into the thick intertwining branches, Vandaris remembered his childhood. Near his former home, the eye-covered trees had thorns covering their limbs, and during an otherwise uneventful outing, one had pricked Vandaris, causing him to grow extremely ill.
Aiyana had tended to him as he lay in their cave babbling nonsense. He had vomited repeatedly, and his body’s temperature rose dramatically, turning the waking world into a fevered dream. Vandaris remembered his artwork on the cavern walls the most vividly. They moved as if they had come to life, their colors becoming more vibrant. The images shimmered and stretched as they enveloped the cave in a bewilderingly beautiful tapestry fueled by his imagination and the toxins coursing through his veins.
Despite his appreciation for the beauty he had witnessed, Vandaris was far more careful around those trees ever since. With an entire wilderness ahead, the danger went from a distant memory to an immediate concern. He felt compelled to search for the only possessions his mother had left him. So he swallowed his fear and walked into the forest, once again venturing into the unknown.