The Twelve Apocalypses: A Damned Soul's Path to the Abyss

There was a certain buzz in the air of Breskwor which I thoroughly enjoyed. It felt like the world was brisk with possibilities, like everything was waking up and taking shape around me. I found myself far too inclined to grin.

All of this held true… for the first two days of traipsing through the endless ice and snow.

Now, as a demon, I was immune to most of what any world might choose to throw at me. Heat and cold? Each was an elementary resistance for my species. But that didn't mean I couldn't get tired of the nippiness in the air, especially when it was so pervasive.

Likewise, it was hard to keep smiling when the only thing one could see for miles out was a swirling snowstorm. Pretty? Sure! But, just like with the cold, it eventually got to be a bit much.

I wasn't faring the worst in our little party, either. While I didn't spend too much time cavorting with the soldiers under my leadership, I did keep in consistent contact with my two captains. This gave me a front-row seat to Methialia's cratering condition.

The demoness never looked well-rested, that was true. But the deeper we ventured into the snowfields of Breskwor, the paler and shakier she got. Her wings of fire eventually began to falter and sputter, and I didn't like the thought of what might happen if they went out entirely.
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Thankfully, we made camp nightly on Glaustro's orders, which gave us all some relief. Our glorious majorness had decided not to push us too hard. We didn't really require sleep in the traditional sense, but even demons needed time to unwind and process. Neglecting sleep or rest was a good way to go absolutely insane in no time at all.

So, at night, I got to curl up in warmth and comfort, courtesy of all the souls Mia and I had spent. Both of us had been entitled to ten thousand souls upfront after our promotion, and we'd bankrolled three thousand souls each for a shared tent.

I had literally zero regrets.

The setup was only slightly larger than you might expect from a modest one-person tent, at least from the outside. The inside was a different story altogether.

The room was bigger than the room we shared at our new compound, and meticulously arranged. We had a fancy writing desk, a large table with assorted chairs, several plush armchairs of heavenly softness, and honest-to-goodness book cabinets. The floor was covered by the plushest carpet imaginable, which Mia loved to lounge on.

Naturally, pride of place was given to a large, four poster bed that was at least a double king in size, if I was remembering my bed sizes correctly from a life half-forgotten. I had originally argued in favor of getting a tent with two separate living spaces, but Mia had just stared at me like I was stupid until I eventually relented.

I was well aware that I would just end up playing pillow for her, regardless. But dammit, I'd wanted my own bed!

The space even had a corner that could be entirely blocked off by unfolding screens attached to the wall of the tent. The screens were perfectly waterproof, and they fused together in a way that reminded me of a classic shower-bathtub. A spout-like protrusion hung overhead, producing water at your preferred temperature with a flick of mana.

Best of all, it was possible to collapse the tent using careful mana manipulation. The second its frame was destabilized, the tent and all it contained were shunted off into a storage dimension, making it a breeze to take the whole thing down or put it up again.

It was home away from home. It was the perfect defense against the cruel Breskwor weather.

It was also a pain to keep Glaustro and Bronwynn out, since the two had taken a single look at our lap of luxury and decided to invade it at every opportunity. It wasn't my fault they had ignored both Mia's warnings and mine to get better tents!

Even with their mediocre gear, though, Glaustro and Bronwynn were still better off than the rest of our troops. Most demons were so confident in their constitution that they only had the barest minimum of camping gear. I even spotted a few of our soldiers outside in nothing but sleeping bags or ratty, legion-issued tents.

The sight really stung. It also drove home the difference between experienced officers like Graighast and the rest of us up-and-comers. Even back on Berlis, Glaustro's brother had provided his soldiers with the best tents he could, along with much better gear. I guess Glaustro had expected us sergeants to do the same, but all of our dumb brand-new-officer asses had just assumed fully grown demons would not be stupid enough to leave for a campaign without at least the basics.

That was to say, the longer we travelled without coming across a town we could yoink from locals and convert, or any trace of civilization, the tenser things got. Before the discontent could culminate in something none of us wanted to see, Glaustro summoned all his officers together.

In Mia's and my tent, of course.

"We can't keep advancing. With how young and barren this world is, there's no guarantee we'll find a local civilization. We need a base, and we need one now," Glaustro declared, eyes trailing over all of us in search of counterarguments.

He got none.

"What do you propose, though? Honestly, I have no applicable skills," I grumbled. "If I'd had more time to study, maybe? As it is, I'm guessing you and Imthala are the only ones who can do anything close to construction. If there's earth to be found under all this ice and snow, that is."

Though my complaints were rooted in frustration, I wasn't wrong. All of us were more or less instruments of war. Not many demons picked up crafting skills as a hobby.

"Good point. I'm afraid Imthala's going to need to take point on this one," Glaustro admitted. "I'm pretty sure it's somewhere down there, but I can't reach far enough to draw up stone or earth."

Imthala's eyes widened in panic at being put on the spot like that, but she didn't take much encouragement once the planning got started.

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It was amusing, in a way. There we were, invading a whole new world, and our first real action was to start establishing a city.

But it worked. While none of us were great at building things, most of us were great at destruction. That meant that it took no time at all for a group of fire-inclined demons to burn a massive hole through the top layer of ice under our feet, and then widen and lengthen it until we had a massive grotto to build a small town in.

From there on, things were up to the ice demoness and the mages who found themselves under her command. The vast majority of our army, Mia and myself included, found ourselves with very few duties. Guard the grotto, provide help if prompted by one of the construction-assigned demons, and sit on your ass otherwise.

The longer this went on, the harder it got for me to ignore the presence of my mother's sword that was still ramping up on my hip.

I tried to study to get my mind off of it. I even played around with runes and spell crafting for a while. But, eventually, I had to give in.

Mia had noticed my anxiety and inability to sit still, just like I noticed that her mood was slowly improving the longer we were away from the Abyss and whatever Vallinach represented for her. So, when I asked her for just a few hours on my own in the tent, she was quick to agree, even if she shot me a worried look as she walked away.

Alone and wound tighter than a spring about to snap, I silently placed my sheathed sword on my lap.

I hadn't drawn the weapon since my ascension. I couldn't. I knew that as soon as I did, whatever process I had been locked out of before would activate.

It wasn't that I hated the idea of Lethaniel as my mother. Quite the opposite, actually. But what might she think, seeing her son's soul violated the way I had done? That was the fear behind my hesitation. A part of me whispered that she would find me an abomination, if not something to destroy on sight.

Surprisingly, it was Woe that helped me fight these cheerful thoughts away. Sinking into my Emotion somehow made them feel more… distant.

Without giving myself time to second-guess further, I drew the blade free of its scabbard.

A jolt of pure power surged out of the sword, blitzed through my arm, and slammed into my chest. I could feel the attention of the Abyss converge on me through our link, and words echoed in my mind.

Legacy of Lethaniel claimed.

Inheritor status acknowledged.

Passing of inheritance in progress.

It felt like a fire was lit under my skin, and it rose up to consume me. Pain swallowed everything, until all that remained was me and the sword. The flames bound us, melted us, then forged us into one coherent whole.

When the anguish finally fled, I was left trembling and gasping for breath, but the sword I held felt more like a true part of me than even a soul-bound object could.

Legacy claimed.

Fight, survive, and prosper, child of Lethaniel.

There was a minute shift of mana, followed by a glow so soft I might have imagined it. Then a slip of paper materialized right above the embedded jewel in my sword's pommel, fluttering softly in midair.

It was a pretty mundane slip of paper, all things considered. Folded several times to make it smaller, and looking like it had seen better days.

Reverently, and like it was about to bite me, I took the paper in my hand and slowly unfolded it.

It was a letter from Lethaniel.

From my mother.

It really was in horrible condition. I saw every imaginable kind of stain, from ash to blood to tears to something of a suspiciously bright green color. The paper was creased so many times that some parts of it were starting to wear thin. The only good thing I could say about the letter's state was that the words could still be made out, even if some were a bit blurred.

It also looked like a page someone had hurriedly torn out of a diary or planner of some sort, with clearly marked out fields that I guessed were meant to contain a date and other details. None of that was present. Instead, the only thing that clearly wasn't part of the letter was a little doodle in the page's bottom right corner.

Someone had clumsily drawn three stick figures holding hands.

The second I laid my eyes on them, a feeling of such profound grief and loss struck me that I almost passed out. The core of my being floundered for a memory it insisted was there, but all I got were flashes of mischief and contentment before the attempt failed. In place of the memory was only a gaping hole.

My hands were trembling at that point, and trails of azure were marking their way down my cheeks, but I somehow forced myself to start reading.

My most beloved,

I am so, so sorry for failing you. I want you to know that both your father and I love you dearly. We never wanted to abandon you. We fought to reunite our family with all our strength, but if you received this letter when you joined the legion instead of meeting me, then I've clearly failed you.

Before all else, I'll tell you this: you are not a monster. I know what it means for you to have accessed this letter. I know what you likely had to do. Never, not once, think I would have preferred you were dead instead of reading this as a demon. I have done horrible things to get back to you, and I will do a thousand more. So long as you are alive and happy, I am proud of you, and I know your father would have been too.

I failed him as well. I couldn't keep him safe. It was this failure that taught me what it takes to survive in the Abyss. So, I say this again: I forgive you. Do what you must to live, and to protect those you love.

Not all who share your blood will help you do this. The patriarch of our family, Melchom Hall, your grandfather's twin, betrayed us. It is because of him that our world fell to demons, and it is because our family branch opposed his decision that we were all forcefully enlisted as the lowest grunts in the legion's armies.

Your uncle, Mercutio, is his most avid follower and supporter. If you ever meet him, be careful, and trust nothing he tells you.

I apologize, too, for how little I will be able to aid you in death. I have climbed high, made connections, and even found a few friends. Some of them, if they discover who you are, will probably offer a hand where they can.

However, I can't risk helping you openly. If I am dead, then Melchom's branch will be coming for you next. This is the reason I couldn't visit you at that camp, too. The most I could do was shut down the original camp on Ao you were assigned to, then scatter the children from it across various minor worlds. I pray to whatever will listen that this will protect you until you can take care of yourself.

I wish so very hard that I could hug you again. I wish I could have given you the childhood you deserved. Hate me for it if you must, but live. Please, live, and be happy.

If you can still bring yourself to trust me, then take good care of your sword. He has served me well, and he will do the same for you if you let him.

I love you, and I'm sorry.

Your mother, Lethaniel

The final lines were written in a shaky hand, the letters all but cutting through the page. I could do nothing but stare, eyes trailing over each and every line again and again.

I didn't know what I felt. I couldn't cope with everything trying to claw its way out of my chest.

I need… I need…

I forced myself up to shaky feet, then stumbled out of the tent.

I found the cat right in front of it. She hadn't even bothered to look for something to sit on, just plopped herself down in the snow. When I stepped out, I felt her eyes searching for mine immediately, but I refused to meet them.

Instead, I collapsed next to her, fanning out my wings so I could wrap them around both of us. She didn't say anything, just snuggled up to me with a little sigh.

I stared up at the sky, realizing for the first time how bright and fascinating it was. It was absolutely covered in stars and brilliant constellations. But I couldn't feel any wonder at this display of beauty.

I just felt cold.

I closed my wings a little tighter, smushing Mia against me. My fingers were still clutching the letter in a death grip, though I'd had enough presence of mind to fold it in half before venturing out.

I wasn't sure I could bring myself to let go any time soon.