You gotta be tough if you wanna act tough.
I was the first to awaken in our makeshift stone shelter nestled deep within the Cave of Hell. This place had become our refuge—a sanctuary crafted by the Dwarf twins, Gimola and Gimli, who had shaped seven sturdy stone structures to protect us from the demons and shadows that loomed outside. Ever since June had joined our ragtag group, we felt a certain security. Her sentry spell, an arcane weave of light and vigilance, kept watch over us while we slept. Dehya was thrilled to learn it, too, June has been teaching Dehya different spells daily.
This day, however, was different. As I pulled myself free from the warmth of my makeshift bed, I could hear the gravelly timbre of a voice drifting through the still air as it sang a hymn. The words wrapped themselves around me, pulling me to the entrance of my shelter.
"In the twilight's gentle embrace, A warrior stood with solemn grace
At Valhalla's gate, his journey's end,
Where gods and heroes do ascend.
With valor bright and honor true,
He faced the gods, his fate to view,
But Odin spoke with voice so grand,
"Return, brave soul, to mortal land."
"Your time is not, your deeds await,
More battles fought, to seal your fate,
Back to the world, with strength anew,
To write the saga, bold and true."
With heart resolved, he bowed his head,
Back to the realm of living sped,
A warrior's path, by gods' decree,
To forge his legacy, wild and free."
Intrigued, I pushed open the heavy stone door and stepped into the cave's dimly lit expanse. The air was cool and fresh, a stark contrast to the torment that lay beyond the cave's mouth. The hearth at the center crackled softly, and my eyes fell upon him—Viscoff, alive and resplendent.
"Viscoff," I murmured, hardly able to believe my eyes. He looked different though—no shirt, Viking tattoos sprawled across his body like a tapestry. Now having long, blonde hair caught the flickering light of the fire, making him look almost ethereal.
Rushing forward, the ground beneath me felt like a comforting embrace, but the moment I reached him, I nearly toppled him to the dirt. "You're alive! You're really alive!"
In my enthusiasm, I woke the others. The rush of footsteps echoed in the cave as Dehya, Gimola, and Gimli emerged, bleary-eyed but driven by curiosity. Ben, ready for any unforeseen danger, still driven by the anger from his wife's death, while Orion, flickered between forms—taking the shape of my golden earring before settling back into a feline form beside me. June, looking like a Polaroid picture of my mother.
Before long, we all gathered around Viscoff, our spirits lifting with the joy of his return. In an impromptu display of welcome, we crashed upon him, laughter bouncing off the cave walls, creating a cacophony of celebration. "Welcome home!" we shouted in unison, our voices brimming with the warmth left behind during grim times.
Viscoff chuckled, the sound rich and deep, his hearty laughter mingling with our excitement. "Oh, the tales I could tell of my journeys! Prowling the realm of Valhalla, I was met by gods." His eyes, now shining brighter than I remembered, scanned our faces. "But nothing compares to this—my family."
As we settled around the fire pit, I couldn't help but feel the comforting heat wrap around me. Each member of our group—each thread of our shared tale—was woven intricately together, forming a stronger bond. I glanced at Dehya, her purple eyes glowing with animated delight, as she heard the stories from Viscoff. Ben, ever cautious, surveyed the cave's entrance, but I could sense the relief in his posture. Gimola and Gimli were seemingly just as pleased, their laughter bouncing off the stones as they recounted their own mischief during Viscoff's absence. They set funny traps inside each one of our shelters, it was quite amusing and just proves they were becoming one of us.
I could hardly contain my curiosity as Viscoff began to share his tales. "I ventured through the Lower realm of vahalla, crossed the River of Lost Souls, walked up the stairs leading to the gates, that's where I met the gods and returned. We need to prepare, Odin told me the important of having to send me back. We all need to get stronger. I say we slow this trip down, defeat one emperor each year. Take seven years to get to Satan. Being in the realm of Valhalla I was able to see the passage of time, 7 years here equals 3.5 back home. The world can protect themselves until we get back" he said, the weight of the words pressing down on us.
His story cast a veil over our joy, Everyone in the group turned and looked at me, waiting for an answer.
I answered "yes, we need too."In that moment, I felt a conviction rise within me. The warmth of our camaraderie enveloped me like a shield—the sweetness of our reunion mingled with the ever-looming threat outside. But we were not just individuals; we were a team, a family. And perhaps together, in this cave of shadows, we would find the light to illuminate the path ahead.
"We'll face whatever comes," I declared, looking around at my companions—each one of us an irreplaceable part of this tapestry weaved by fate. "Together."
From that day forward, the Cave of Hell hummed with our combined energy—a flickering spark against the darkness, setting the stage for battles yet to unravel and the tales yet to be told. The echoes of dawn resonated through our very souls, binding us closer; we became warriors in the making, each day a page turned in our unfolding saga.
—-
Six months. Six long months spent in this cavernous expanse that we reluctantly called home, hidden away from the eyes of the seven emperors who ruled with an iron fist outside these stony walls. The echoes of our practice filled the air, as a makeshift stone kitchen wafted the smell of roasted meat. In the center of it all was a fire pit crackling, surrounded by the concrete shelters built by Gimola and Gimli—twins larger than life, who transformed the ancient rock into a sanctuary amid chaos.
I stood in solitude, practicing the second of nine sword styles under the watchful gaze of my companion, Orion. Perched on a stone with sleek black and gold fur, he spoke, "You've mastered the Lightning Blade style, Zain. We are closer to facing the first emperor."
"Closer," I mumbled, my eyes flickering with the dance of the firelight. I recalled a conversation from a couple of months prior when Orion had revealed the existence of the nine styles. The Sword God, a legendary figure, was the lone master of them all. The memory of my companions voice came to me, recounting tales of greatness and power from a couple months ago.
"Drunken Style," I whispered, letting the words roll off my tongue like a mantra. It was the first style, birthed from the chaos of a the master sword god who surprised even the mightiest of foes. My lips curled into a small smile, a fleeting thought of mirth in this place shadowed by relentless training. He created this style by accident because he loved rice wine a bit too much."lightening blade", "water flow", "inferno blade", "Ice blade", "earthen shatter", "wind cutter", "iron wall" and lastly "shadow dance." I whispered all 9 of them as I swung my blade.
As I continued to practice, I cast my gaze across the cavern. Ben, was hunched over, his bow taut, sending arrows flying with such precision that they barely whispered through the air before hitting their targets. Each impact rang with a promise of lethal intent.
Across the cave, Dehya and June stood engrossed in their magical arts. Dehya, with her vibrant purple hair and striking eyes, had grown more confident since arriving, her hands effortlessly weaving spells of arcane energy alongside June, whose fiery determination was seen through the power of each spell. There was a solace I found in watching them work, a bond forged in magic that seemed to brighten this dark realm.
Gimola and Gimli, in their fierce duality, We're no longer struggling against the relentless waves of small, bat-like demons in a section of the cave that became a makeshift training ground. Their laughter echoed, mixed with the clang of their blades against the dark creatures. It was a sound almost comforting, a reminder that we remained united in our fight—a strange family of warriors.
And then, of course, there was Viscoff. The older man, once towering with muscles honed by the harsh realities of life, stood younger now. His return from the dead had thrown the entire dynamic into disarray, yet in the chaos was a clarity I admired. Some days, it felt as if he had grown fonder of his axe; I often found him cleaving through the sturdy black obsidian mountains that surrounded us, remnants of fury and might emanating from each swing.
"Alright, let's have dinner!" I yelled, breaking the rhythm of our training, and a chorus of responses surrounded me.
"What's on the menu?" Gimola called out, wiping sweat from her brow, her weapon gleaming in the dim light.
"Hopefully not bat!" Gimli joked, and laughter erupted around the cave, a welcome sound in our sanctuary.
The warmth of camaraderie filled the hollow space as we gathered around the pit. As the flames flickered, casting shadows against the jagged walls, I could almost convince myself that the darkness would not swallow us whole. We dug into the meal, sharing stories of past glories and future confrontations—each one a promise that fueled our purpose.
"Zain," June spoke, her voice reminiscent of gentle winds. "Do you really think we can bring down the first emperor?"
I considered her question. The weight of our mission lay heavy on my shoulders, but amidst the uncertainty, there was one thing I knew for sure: we were stronger together. "Yes," I said, and I felt a rush of determination. "We have trained hard for this moment."
Orion leaped down from his perch and transformed into my golden earring, a reminder of the spirit that guided me. A heartbeat later, the reminder of what was at stake returned, but for now, around the fire, I had my friends. We would forge memories anew, with each meal shared, each training session, and each challenge that lay ahead.
As night descended, I thought only of the battles that awaited us, the trials we would face, and the friendships we would bind in the fires of adversity. Six months had passed like shadows, but I felt as if we were finally ready to step into the light—or well, the darkness—together. hell would not define us; we were destined to carve out a legacy of our own.
——
Satan sat in a pitch-black room on a pitch-black throne, the darkness enveloping him like a shroud. His eyes, glowing with a sinister red hue, pierced through the void. The air was thick with malevolence, and the very walls seemed to whisper secrets of despair. His presence was overwhelming, a concentrated force that could crush the spirit of even the bravest souls.
"So, the seven of them finally make their move," Satan's voice echoed, dripping with contempt and dark amusement. "I still wonder why the demon king has sent them here. Well let's play a little game and when I win" He paused, a cruel smile curling on his lips. "Their destiny will be sealed."
——
The air crackled, thick with sulfur and heat, making each breath feel like inhaling fire itself. Our presence seemed muted against the oppressive crimson glow of this infernal sky. Dehya adjusted her pack, her lavender eyes – normally sparkling with mischief – were narrowed against the heat haze.
"This place makes a furnace feel pleasant," she muttered, tucking a stray strand of violet hair back behind her ear.
She walked beside me, her hair catching the dim light like a beacon against the darkness. Her laughter was a welcome sound amidst the oppressive atmosphere. "Zain, if you slip and fall into that inferno of hot water, I'll personally drag you out to roast marshmallows," she quipped, her enchanting violet eyes sparkling.
"Roasting marshmallows in Hell? Sounds like a dream!" Sarcasm filling my voice as I replied, matching her energy as we navigated our way along the stream.
Our expedition team was an eclectic bunch: Viscoff, the towering figure who bore a strength that matched his intimidating appearance, decided this was the perfect opportunity to tease me. "Zain! Are you sure you want to lead us straight into the depths of the boiling sea? I hear it's great for last-minute haircuts," he bellowed with a playful grin, his metal gauntlets glinting ominously in the hazy light.
I grunted a little. Showing that I did not enjoy this bone burning heat.
"Lighten up, Teal-top," Viscoff boomed, clapping me on the back hard enough to almost send me sprawling. "A little heat never hurt anyone."
"Easy for you to say," I shot back, rubbing my shoulder. "You're practically immune to fire."
Viscoff just laughed, the sound echoing off the obsidian cliffs that hemmed us in.
I held my hands up in mock submission. "Just because I'm Younger then you, don't think you can't sign up for a free ass whooping!" The others burst into laughter, and even Viscoff chuckled, his laughter rumbling like distant thunder.
Ben, rolled his eyes while adjusting the red string of his bow. "Not unless I kick his ass first," he said slyly, his tone contrasting the lightness of our banter. "Hey Viscoff, Just make sure you don't trip over your own hair while we're going at it."
"Hey! This hair is my new pride!" He protested, laughing alongside Gimola and Gimli, the dwarf twins who had paired off for their usual competition. They were arguing over who could throw a rock farther into the boiling stream. Gimola's white braids flew as she could barely contain her competitive spirit, while Gimli's long beard swayed with every exaggerated gesture he made.
As we marched onward, a sense of camaraderie swelled between us. June, caught in the heated rock-throwing contest and chimed in with mock annoyance. "Honestly, you two! You might as well be mining for glory in a place like this." Her laugh was infectious, echoing against the engulfing dark of Hell.
But laughter soon turned to silence as we reached a valley nestled between two imposing obsidian mountains. The air thickened with an ancient weight, and I could feel the change above; the atmosphere crackled with magic and danger. Gradually, the oppressive heat became a distant echo as the boiling waters began to bubble more voraciously. We stood in awe, gazing across to the city owned by Leviathan, where dark spires kissed the flames of the sky.
"Take it in, everyone," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. "This is where we Start our trek. The first emperor of Hell awaits." The wind whistled past, carrying with it the scent of sulfur and moisture—the promise of peril just beyond our line of sight.
"Remember, Zain," Viscoff began, the jocular light replaced with something graver, "humor might charm the flames, but Steel and lightening will stand firm against enemies. Keep that magic of yours ready." His tone turned serious as the shadows danced in the distance, hinting at the leviathan's figure—magnificent, terrible, and deadly.
"Let's not waste time," I said, my heart already racing with anticipation. "We must cross this valley and confront him before he has the chance to make us fools."
"All right, then! Onward!" Gimoli shouted, pumping his small Kukuri blades into the air.
With laughter fading behind me, we pressed forward, shadows looming larger as if they held their breath to witness our advance. The boiling waters rushed beside us, urging us onward toward the unknown—a place where legends are forged and destinies rewritten.
As we closed the distance, my thoughts drifted to my world beyond—an unending ache of nostalgia that warred against the thrill of our current quest. But amidst all the tumult, one immutable truth settled inside me: I was no longer alone. We were warriors drawn together by fate, hurtling toward the heart of darkness, and I would not face it alone.
*
*ummmmm why do I act so tough for them??.*