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

my mind, believing that the time and opportunity for vengeance would never come,” said Asag, a strange fervor underlying his words. The mage was again startled by the unexpected change in the demon’s demeanor.

Fucking insane mood swings. I wonder if being kept in this cave could drive a demon even more bonkers? Not that they were mentally sound to begin with. And is Asag really merely a demon?

“Be brief, Asag. You’re not my only concern, and you should know that by now.”

“My thanks, Labiru,” said Asag as his form shifted to that of a middle-aged man with a tall, square cap of bronze and a simple white attire of cotton bound with a leather belt around the waist. The old man was clearly amused at the expression of gratitude. As for Tyler, he assumed that the form Asag had now adopted must be the image of the mortal the demon had last possessed. Since the shape gave the impression of being a high-ranked person, possibly of royalty, the mage could only conclude that Asag must have created a great deal of havoc where he last lived as a mortal.

Such expressions must have been few and far between, thought the mage as he reflected on the reaction of the old man to the gratitude expressed by Asag. But then again, Asag is a demon, after all. Specifically, an ancient demonic entity with a deity’s power during the height of his, or its, prowess.

Asag went back to his chair, which had now transformed to a simpler one – gone were the fearful designs and the throne-like appearance. It now appeared as a simple seat with a high back. The expression had changed to a contemplative and serious one, and the mage could imagine the flood memories now running through Asag’s mind, though the clenched jaw of the human form was a dead giveaway. Most of Asag’s recollections would have been extremely uncomfortable ones, especially in the light of his defeats, many unspoken, at the hands of the Mesopotamian and other gods. Tyler got the unsettling impression that the demon’s existence was merely tolerated by the mightier deities of his time.

Though that observation merely supports my view that in the end, most, if not all, of the Mesopotamian were actually demons. A few might be termed as of the light, as a mortal of the present might say. Then again, gods and beings of similar stature or power were but figments of men’s imaginations given form and made real. The period which gave birth to Asag must have been a terrifying time in Earth’s history for such a circus of demons to arise, reflected the mage.

What also struck Tyler’s curiosity was the thick beard and long hair that the demon displayed. Obviously untrimmed but well-kept, it followed a particular arrangement which made it look uniquely ridged and stylized. With a sudden realization, the mage knew he had seen that kind of beard before – on votive statues of Near East origin. A second seat noiselessly rose from the cave floor for the mage, though he wasn’t sure who was responsible for its creation. Both entities evidently had powers which dealt with rock and stone. Tyler pretended not to notice the chair. He preferred standing as the mage still deemed the matter before him unresolved. Anything could happen.

“I was a famous, or if you prefer, infamous, demon according to the lore of the place of the noble lords, or what of the region you now call Sumeria. I do have to thank my jailer here for the current name. But the name is of Akkadian origin and refers to the land, not to the people which in turn were called the black-headed people or tsalmat-qqaqqadi in Akkadian. A strong people in a mighty land. I played my games and followed my nature, but I guess I overindulged myself as Ninurta was sent after me,” narrated Asag.

“Ah, him of the talking mace,” commented Tyler.

“The very same. Son of the Sky-God! The Donkey of the Moon! The Dumbest Monkey of the Heavens! Ninurta thought he had killed me, but how can you dispose of a demon spirit if you only focus on its form? My host was of course splattered to the winds, and I found myself in another mortal body and hurriedly sneaked out of the place,” continued the demon who smirked at the memory. “I did find it enormously satisfying to see that fool make a ridiculous spectacle of himself boasting and crowing to the skies about his accomplishment. Around what was left of the corpse, of course. The moron was singing praises to the gods! Singing! In a hilariously off-key tone too.”

“Wouldn’t the Sumerian pantheon or at least his father notice that you escaped?” asked Tyler who, based on what Asag said, assumed that the battle would have been under the scrutiny of the Mesopotamian Anu the Sky God.

“Ah, things were more civilized in those days, at least in the relationship between and among gods and demons of a certain level of power. I do have to admit the damned distinction was awfully mixed up and confusingly bizarre. But his father was content to let me go. Lesson given and hopefully learned as far as he was concerned. Bad decision to dispose with finality a demon of power. It would create a war of extinction between the two kinds. Remember, gods had demon offspring too.”

The short version which Asag gave the mage told of a powerful demon trying to hide from the attention of the deity Anu and others it had angered. The battle with Ninurta had also reduced his power, strength which only time could return to the demon. And Tyler finally learned why Asag hated Ninurta’s talking mace, though the “being more proficient in insulting” part also had something to do with it – the magical mace had the ability to whittle down a being’s magical power every time it hit.

Eventually, Asag learned of the Great Migration – the mass movement of mortals and deities through magical portals