Vyloris

It was just as my dreams had foretold. The temple where the tormented goddess was being held lay at the foot of the mountain range. I stood where the setting sun could be seen, shining through a crevice, and observed the unfolding scene. —Rather than call it a temple, perhaps it's better to describe it as a tower without doors. I recalled my dreams, depicting the scene within the temple: the divine goddess shackled to the wall by the Hypogean, sharp spikes driven through her wings, horrifying streaks of blood. She told me of her agony, that her name was Vyloris, and that she had been deceived into leaving the safety of her mountain top and descending unto this place of pain. Bewitched and beguiled by the Hypogean, her captors have since tortured and tormented her without end, all to drain every drop of divine power from her. In my dream, I swore that I would save her before darkness enveloped all. I would defeat the Hypogean holding her captive, and deliver her from suffering.

Under the brilliance of a rising full moon I found the loathsome Hypogean, drew my weapon and attacked. No expression could be discerned on the fiend's foul, mangled face, but he clearly hesitated—as if he wished to speak. A repugnant whooshing noise came from his throat. I understand not the Hypogean language, nor did I want my determination to be undermined, so I raised again my sword and struck fiercely. The outcome of our mortal fight was uncertain, but victory ultimately fell to me. It was with the purest joy that I plunged my blade deep into the beast's chest. The bright red blood which spurted from his fatal wound seemed identical to mine. Right then, I was so tired I felt like I could barely stand. But I mustered the last of my strength to cleave in twain the wall to which the goddess was chained. I saw Vyloris break free from her bonds amidst the swirling dust. She smiled and walked toward me, and as she embraced me I knew that everything I had done was worth the effort. Just then, the gentle and caressing hand of the goddess on my chest transformed into a razor-sharp claw. Black light enveloped me, as every inch of both armor and flesh disintegrated under that terrible claw. It was soul-light, the light of the Infernal Surge.

"What a just and handsome knight you are, just like the previous pitiful wretch... The one you just defeated." I screamed, eyes wide in fear and pain as I watched her slash my face and cut out my tongue with keen-edged blades. "I'd really hate to kill you. You don't foolishly think, like him, that chaining me up in a temple could possibly seal a demoness?" I looked at the limp figure on the ground, of the "Hypogean" I had just slaughtered. I tried to call for help, but nothing but a hideous whooshing noise emerged. I finally realized what he was trying to tell me. But I could only howl in frustration and regret—that mangled, hideous face was only so because of the inhuman torture inflicted upon it. Night fell, and I had not defeated the true Hypogean. All too soon, my eyesight was taken from me. I was left with but a poor sense of hearing as, accompanied by Vyloris' joyful humming, I fell into total darkness.

"Lies are intoxicating, because people only believe what they want to believe."

"These furnishings are fine indeed. Now, where to hang my instruments of torture?"