Tartarus Beckons by Edmund Batara (reading an ebook .TXT) 📕

that, or everyone ganged up on him, and there were more deities around during that time. Tyler had never heard of Asag. His battle with Ares should have brought up a comparison with this Asag if the demon was a worthy opponent. Yet it was abundantly clear that whatever Asag did, it was deemed a mere annoyance by the pantheons the demonic being had disturbed. Tyler suspected the demon’s off-kilter power must have severely curtailed its abilities, not merely affected them in a minor manner.

The demon didn’t reply but merely glared at the old man. The elderly newcomer just looked at Asag. Tyler could be wrong, but he believed sadness and pity was in those deep, wise eyes. Finally, the old man sighed and spoke to the demon.

“But I bring good and bad news, Asag. Your presence here was more to protect the lands around us from unwanted interference from one such as you. The pantheons have their roles to play in the destiny of this world, and your constant yet doomed attempts at conflict are distracting them from their work. Though pranking would be the better term for most of what you did.”

“I am a but a distraction? A prankster?” furiously shouted the demon. Tyler involuntarily drew back at the sudden shout, but inwardly, he couldn’t blame Asag for the reaction. Being told that one is merely a distraction was insulting at the very least. He knew the old man was brutally honest in his assessment, but diplomatic language was obviously not in his repertoire. Same as Tyler.

“Me? The Great Asag? The demon who gave Ninurta, the son of the god Enlil, the proverbial slip? The one who took him on the chase of his cursed heroic life?” shouted the demon, continuing his furious tirade.

“Unfortunately, yes,” answered the old man calmly.

“Ah, screw it,” answered Asag with a slump of his shoulders, now looking like a deflated balloon. The reversal in attitude was so sudden that it took Tyler by surprise. Millennia of being a captive must have forced some introspection, decided the young mage. The demon sat on a boulder.

“I didn’t win that one either. And that talking enchanted mace of his was so… annoying. An expert at insults, I would say. A lot better than me at extemporaneous and imaginatively formulated invectives. By Dimme, I would gladly strangle with his own entrails the smith who crafted that talkative piece of metal,” said Asag. A bit of the old fire erupted when he talked about Ninurta’s weapon.

“You still haven’t asked about the good and bad news,” reminded the other.

“What’s the point? You’ll tell me anyway. If a demon could feel despondent, that would be me. Solitary confinement obviously doesn’t agree with my sunny disposition.”

“You did try to possess the body of the human mage standing over there,” pointed out the old man.

“Why blame me? It’s in my nature. I am a demon, after all. And nobody had visited the caverns above for millennia, it only has those stupid spiders which now infest its hollows and passageways. I could clear them out, but to what purpose? Only the creatures of that desolate domain adjacent to this mountain range would venture into the cave, and I absolutely have no interest in taking on the body of one of them,” replied Asag, his voice a lot calmer now and tinged with defeat.

“Even if I could,” he added in a low voice.

“And yet you still failed to take over a human body. I would have thought your previous experiences have taught you the futility of such an attempt.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try, old man. Things might have changed. My abilities and magic are still distorted by the energies of this world,” answered Asag. “And do note that after millennia of being exposed to my amiable and perfect personality, you still haven’t given me your name.”

“What are names, Asag? They are ephemeral by nature. Like you, how many names have you taken? I do know Asag is not your true name.”

“I can’t go with old man forever. I’ll call you Labiru-Isten. A Sumerian term,” said Asag.

“And that means?”

“Old man.”

Tyler had to suppress the laughter which started to bubble inside him. Fortunately, he was successful, though barely. Not so the old man. His deep voice, as fathomless as the depths of the mountains themselves, echoed merrily through the space of the hollow.

“Oh, Asag. Sometimes, you do amuse me at the strangest moments,” said the newly named entity. “Labiru, it is then.”

Then a thought struck Tyler. It should have been apparent when the old man arrived and started talking, but the observation finally got tired of waiting in the wings of the theater of his thoughts, got up, and kicked his brain.

Why could I understand them now? My ears could only hear Asag mouthing pure gibberish when I arrived, wondered the mage.Is it the old man’s doing? The atmosphere in the cavern does appear to be flooded with primordial magic, and from experience, it feels similar to what the female avatar exuded.

“How come I could understand Asag now?” Tyler asked the old man suddenly.

“Same as why you could cast your magic up there in the cave. I allowed it,” came the matter-of-fact reply. Then the elderly figure turned his attention to the demon.

“Well, Asag, you’d be happy to know you’ve been granted some reprieve – a rare chance to get out of what you call your prison. Me? I’d call it your bolt hole. I do hope you’ve been forgotten by the pantheons you’ve angered. Otherwise, only the First Mage would be able to save your intangible ass.”

“First Mage? This young whelp… my apologies, unfortunately, old habits die hard, but this young man is a First Mage? The last First Mage, who I thankfully didn’t have the displeasure to meet, was an old man, extremely tetchy from what I have heard, and that was a very long time ago, far removed from the memory of even the ancient forebears of the mortals of this world. Well, at least a