Rule of the Demon Lords
Harold Kruger Feb 2003--2005
TEDDY
Veronica knelt on the top of her padded pine toy-box, and took Teddy down from the windowsill. He had been sitting in between lemma, a soft rag doll with yellow frizzy hair on the right, and a very well-worn gonks called Jehovah, on the left. Veronica had found the name `Jehovah’ on a pamphlet some door-knockers had left, and she rather liked it.. She fished an old steel key from a blue ceramic bowl on the dresser, inserted it Teddy’s back, and wound up his mainspring.
“eeeerrrrr….Good morning, veronica. I’m just a poor old Teddy who groans with rust.”
“It’s night-time, Teddy, now tell me more about the Demon Lords.”
“Oh, Veronica, why trouble your sweet young mind with that kind of violence and evil? Let me tell you a story about a brave water-rabbit called Sam. It all started---,”
“No, Teddy, It’s very important. I want to learn all you know about the Demon Lords.”
“All I know? All I know? We simply don’t have time tonight. Actually Sam was--,”
“The Demon Lords, Teddy. Tell me more about the Demon Lords.”
“Well, we can begin with Drishnu on the planet of Serath. They called him the beast-sorcerer because he was raised partly by the great Ursa-Tigers and had a way of manipulating animals…but to meet Drishnu we need to go the way of a strange man who is known as the Kruger.”
THE KRUGER
There was once a strange man who had a strange dream. Shall we mention the mood/personality gearbox? He shifts down into Dreulor, stops taking medication, goes back up to Harold, up to Anton, and nearly up to Rashalika, but then shifts left into 502 (android personalities have a three digit number for a name). He could be explaining this to the new key worker, the pale replacement of KAREN.
Karen spins into the cake room, staggering. Hits the powdery icing floor. Gazes around at all the stacks and slabs of cake. She realizes that it is all about wedding cake. The whole room is composed of cake or parts of cake, and full of cakes, marzipan and icing. For the time being she is trapped in the mad cake room. At least she would not starve.
The new key worker takes the mood/personality diagram with a frown and starts talking about something else before we hit any serious detail. From 502 he tries to go up to Myron, but the time is not ripe. I try to move from left to right, from 502 to 807. The android 807 is higher in the series, thus more advanced. He is also on the ethical right side of the diagram, with the honourable Japanese Samurai Jin Ri. This is more positive. But the diagram is only an estimate. It is not all that accurate. There should be more stages of low mood between the Harold and total Dreulor. One of these would be called Milton Brown.
The strange man had a strange dream. All the personalities became separated beings who could meet each other and interact. As a more ordinary Kruger I could meet the more psychotic alien Demon Lords. These were Drishnu, Jin Ri, Myron and Rashalika. These creatures could be realized and met within fiction and fantasy. It is just one of those things, a thing you can do, if you want to learn about the Demon Lords.
The left of the diagram is the shadow side. The axis of ethics moves from left to right. 502, Drishnu, Myron … these tend to be negative, aggressive personalities, although in Myron or Drishnu my own mood can be high so they feel great. Mood axis goes from bottom to top.
There are religious philosophers in here who think the main reason for and meaning of the Demon Lords is a response to Ethics from a Christian cultural background. To go right is to do ordinary good and forward in time. This is only somewhat possible. In despair I also go left, to the evil, in the backwards direction of time. The unresolved conflict calls forth the third time dimension, to go up to the Demon Lords. Eventually we reach a Rashalika of vast power balanced between the left and right, and then move up beyond the void of power to Sequoya or Seconal. Just like Dreulor the Age Lord, Sequoya is not strictly speaking a Demon Lord at all, yet he is a part of the sequence of incarnated souls, one within the other like Russian dolls. Sequoya is the state of serene bliss beyond Heaven.
In the story I start much lower down and I travel. I take you back into the ancient past of the far future, when over eight hundred of the habitable planets in the galaxy were linked in a network of portal connections and the end of that Age was near.
MEET THE DEMON LORDS
I was standing in a softly illuminated cave. The walls were carved with writhing figures and scenes in white stone. I wandered down the cave for a distance and found a series of side passages. I felt drawn to enter one of them.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said a voice behind me. I spun around. There stood a vaguely familiar figure in a strange costume.
“807 at your service.”
“807 …the Android.”
“Exactly”
“And what is down here?”
“The portal directly to the Realm of Myron.”
“The sorcerer Demon Lord?”
“Yes. The Evil one. Not a good idea.”
“What is a good idea, then?”
“Approach the Demon Lords in succession. Experience will best prepare you. Start with the realm of Drishnu. At this stage he’s not yet a Demon Lord but time will tell.”
“Will it?”
“Oh yes. Now, come this way.”
807 led me through the caves to another of the passages. He handed me a necklace of leather with five silver beads.
“Here, take this. It’s legal tender in the place you will visit.”
“Thank you”
807 activated the portal, and where a blank stone wall had been became a liquid swirling of multicoloured electric sparks. I touched the surface tentatively. 807 gave me a shove. I gasped, engulfed in soft fuzzy explosion and stepped out into the interior of some kind of church or temple. Yellow robed priests stood waiting for me. I tried to talk but they ignored my words, remaining silent. They searched me and led me out through a series of chambers and corridors until I stood blinking in the open air. The sky was an aquamarine colour and the bright sun, though high in the sky, shone with a strong reddish light.
I walked down a long flight of steps set into the hillside and down into a bustling market. For a while I just looked around. So many stalls piled with unusual fruits and vegetables, food of every kind, animals in cages, bolts of multi-coloured fabric and so much that I did not recognise. Exotic odours bombarded my nostrils. I asked an old man directions to Drishnu. He was selling herbs and heaps of shredded plant matter. He gave me a funny look and pointed out a fortress towards the west.
After a long walk I joined a great crowd of people milling round the base of the fortress. Worming my way to the front of the crowd I caught the attention of a guard in leather armour.
“I want to see Drishnu!”
“You and a million others.”
“I have money,” I said, flashing my necklace.
“So?”
“I’m his author!”
The guard didn’t bother to answer, and with a sneer he marched off.
“Drishnu! Drishnu!” Thousands of voices were calling his name.
I made my way back to the market place. There the old man hailed me. He introduced himself as Gimel and offered me a pipe.
“This is mullioned, a good smoking weed. Didn’t find Drishnu, I’ll wager”
“No, I just got caught in a huge crowd.”
“And what would you want with Drishnu? The likes of us don’t get to meet the likes of him.”
“I wanted to talk to him. I’m his author” I lit the pipe and smoked, “Thank you, this is good smoke.”
“Mullorn is one of the best. I’m a trader and mostly deal in smoking mixtures and herbs. Which planet are you from?”
“Well … from Earth.”
“Earth? Never been there myself, though I’ve done my share of travelling. I can tell you’ve never been to Serath before. These days I mostly trade between Fourthly, Connexion and Serath Special herbs are grown here. Mullorn grows on Fourthly But I’ll tell you something, Author, if you aim to write about the powerful, have a mind for Myron. All the travelling portals are in Temples dedicated to Myron. All the trading pays a tax to Myron. They say there are seventy two billion planets in the system, while he had us assume the sectors added up to eight hundred. Every planet is linked by his Temples. And he’s not human, he’s a Demon Lord.”
I said goodbye to Gimel and returned to the temple. I noticed a curious feeling from the drug. The magnificent building looked beautiful and forbidding from the outside. I joined a milling crowd of travellers and traders. Eventually I found the room that I had emerged in. The yellow robed priests charged me five silver beads to travel back through the portal. I ended up in the passages with 807.
“That was no good, I couldn’t get close to Drishnu”
“Well, perhaps something special can be arranged.” 807 began to fiddle with a control panel set into the rock wall.
“Try this setting.”
I stepped into the portal again.
Then I was on a grassy hilltop surrounded by patches of ferns, plants I could not recognise, grassland and forest. Two huge cats with mottled russet and beige coats lay on the grass and between them, on a simple straw mat, sat Drishnu He was dressed in curious leather armour decorated with tufts of dyed hair. At his side was a long knife with an intricately carved bone handle. A long bow and quiver of arrows lay on the mat beside him and over his shoulder was slung a sword.
Vishnu's eyes were narrow and feline – two chips of glittering obsidian. His long black hair was held by a leather band across the forehead, and in the centre of the band was a large ruby, reminiscent of a third eye.
“ah, so you are Kruger. I was expecting you,” said Drishnu, “Step forward”
I took a hesitant step, warily keying the Ursa Tigers.
“Don’t worry,” said Drishnu, “I’m more dangerous than my friends. They could only destroy your body, not your soul. That would survive in their lands of dreaming. Do you know what I am?”
“A very powerful man … but I must be dreaming now. I am your author, I write about you and-“
“No longer a man. I have evolved spiritually to the level of a Demon. Many scribes and historians write of my deeds, Kruger. You are not the first and will not be the last.”
“No, this must be a particularly vivid dream. I am the first author, I made up Drishnu …. I created you.”
“You will die for that, Kruger. Those who meet me are either worthy beings of great power or they come as sacrifices. You know this is more than a dream. Look at how stable and consistent things are. Your dreams are not this focussed.”
“How can a character kill his author? Perhaps I will wake soon and then write of the fall of Drishnu Perhaps a festering wound from the fight with Thadagar.”
“I understand more than you suspect, Kruger. Your travel here was futuristic. I fought Thadagar over a year ago. I did have a festering wound and fell into a coma for weeks. During that time Thadagar ruled all of Serath while I walked the dreamlands. When I awoke I was a Demon.
“Now you think that you are my author, that you first thought of me and wrote my story. It is said that truth is stranger than fiction. I consider you a sacrifice, but I am not a hasty Demon. You require a lesson in the realities first, then I will have your soul…”
“Not Myron!”
“ah, Kruger, now you yourself are taking dream for reality.”
“Are you now calling this a dream?”
“A dream is not unreal according to me.”
“Don’t kill me, I -----,”
“You fear death within what is unreal for you? How interesting. Now be silent and listen. Reality is like a wave phenomena. Just as a seed is not the reality of a tree, so does all reality grow and develop, then fade and die. The old Gods began as Ideas that grew until millions of believers flocked to their banner. Their reality was obvious and accepted. They were never disproven, but over time their power was questioned until they faded from common sight.
“In retrospect it is easy to argue that they were never real, yet the realities of today share the same fate.
Consider the Dinosaurs.”
“The Dinosaurs?”
“Why not? I was raised on primitive Serath, but a Demon has access to many different worlds and times. Once as a child you had a picture book with an illustration of a man running from a Tyrannosaurus. It con fused you because the caption told you this scene was impossible. Later it just seemed ironic to you.”
“How did you know that?”
“Many different worlds and times. You see the picture showed you the very situation that was impossible. That was the irony.”
“Then pictures become moves, moves become virtual reality. Technology keeps advancing. Soon the Dinosaurs will return. Not so extinct after all.”
“There are graduations of reality but few absolutes. And the reality can begin in any way. Just an idea, Kruger, Just a character in a story. But tell me, where does the inspiration come from?”
“I don’t know --- nobody knows.”
“I know. It comes from any source with the necessary spiritual power. I am the Demon Drishnu, the beast-sorcerer of Serath, and I have that power. I inspired YOU.
Now consider time. Time is not as it usually seems. The idea of time has changed over time itself, depending on the culture. It has been timelessly infinite, cyclic, then linear. Why should any vision of time be always real and in only one way?
Now focus your limited intelligence on these various points and tell me that I am a fiction. Your writing is inspired by realities and I am one of them.”
“I can just write it out differently.”
“Oh, try it. Drishnu is always one step ahead. I know you are not dreaming. Now you are writing.”
“It’s Dreulor. Dreulor is writing!” I screamed. Drishnu seemed to make a move towards his long bow on the straw mat. One of the Ursa Tigers yawned, displaying its fangs. A series of orange and magenta bats flew overhead.
“Dreulor? A silly gambit. So Kruger writes about an author called Dreulor. He does not fool the highly intelligent Demon. Dreulor is an apprentice Wizard in Sila fortress. I found him inventing Rodrigo's languages and I promoted him to adviser.
I know you are writing me and it is nearly time to die. You were inspired and compelled to write about the Demon Lords. In future the book becomes a cult favourite, then comes a board game, then a movie, then a virtual reality, then a full reality….”
“Aaaaahhh!”
Dreulor woke suddenly, bathed in sweat. A dream, thank Rashalika, it was only a dream. Only?
(Only, I had written)
My hands trembled over the keyboard. I had to prevent it happening. But surely these were my ideas. They were so engrossing. No, I can’t stop writing. And I can’t write of less compelling beings. I couldn’t write normal books where the goodies beat the baddies and save the world.
Could I write without inspiration? What was inspiration anyway? But I was here, alive, and still writing. Did I escape Drishnu?
Instant karma
What?
And where did the items of imagination come from? If my brain alone could create them, and they were the seeds of future realities, or had the chance, then I had an almost God-like role anyway. Was it all just my imagination? Could it be more?
And what was imagination, really?
Really?
Then what was real?
Oh no, Drishnu had a point.
Arrow Shoots Dead. (Help?)
1 Jin Ri
Later that night I went into town with my girlfriend. I had to unwind a bit. We took the train into Adelaide and walked to Rundle street. I decided on The Exeter, where a live band would be performing.
I bought a house red for myself and a vodka raspberry for Willow. None of the tables were completely empty by then so we chose one with one other person. He was a handsome guy who introduced himself as Jin Ri.. He was also drinking red wine. I offered him a cigarette which he accepted with a smile. Jin was into martial arts of various kinds. He had a wound from a sword-fight on his left hand, between the first knuckles of the thumb and index finger. “I won the fight, “ Jin Ri explained, “but he cut me.” There was something strange about the wound. It seemed to be healing in an odd way, a red bubble forming in the centre of the cut so that for all the world it resembled the red eye of a demon peering out from the flesh of his hand.
I tried to be very nice to Jin Ri. I was a bit worried that he might try to steal my girlfriend like he tried to steal my lighter. But then he was very gracious about it and produced the lighter as if it had been a simple mistake.
I ended up giving Jin Ri quite a few cigarettes. He explained that he practice Yoga breathing techniques to minimise the harmful effects.
“But I’m just a poor old teddy who groans and wheezes. Oh let me die, let me die,’
“That’s the wrong version of Jin Ri, Teddy. I want the old one”
“What’s wrong with the water rabbit story?”
“No, I want the Demon Lords.”
807 sent me through another portal. I arrived in a Temple on the planet of Nikon There were guards waiting for me in bamboo and lacquer armour. We marched out onto a paved road. The landscape was highly picturesque, with many-coloured fields, dark forests and jagged mountains streaked with snow. I noticed that the guards had Asian features.
The road took us winding through rice paddies and up to an impressive castle. We passed through a gateway and a passage, to emerge in a wide courtyard. We marched up to a very imposing figure.
“Jin Ri Shogun” said the guards, bowing low.
“Ah, Kruger, I was expecting you”
“You are the Shogun”
“Only on the surface. I wear a human Shogun, within I am a Demon Lord”
“I write about you”
“Every individual has a role”
“Tell me, what does it mean to be a Demon Lord?”
“Do you still follow the way?”
“The way?”
“Training in martial arts. The Way.”
“Not any more”
“You are not fit for the presence of a Demon Lord”. Jin Ri called the guards in another language. They marched me away, down the passage and out through the gate. They marched me through the rice paddies to the gates of an inn.
Inside the inn I met the old trader, Gimel. He was setting up a chessboard and asked me to join him. The left half was familiar, but I found unfamiliar pieces on the right.
“I don’t know all these.”
“Well that one is the demon Lord. He can move to any square on the board except the king’s. Then comes the Wizard, moving like both a Bishop and a Knight, and the Tara, moving like both a Castle and a knight. We play to Rodrigo's rules, meaning that if I take your piece , I give it to you and you place it anywhere on the board.”
As we played, Gimel continued to talk while I concentrated on the new rules.
“They say that sometimes folk play with five boards in a cross shape, and four players. Imagine four of the Demon Lords getting together for a chess game. “
It wasn’t too long before Gimel said “Checkmate.”. He gave me some more Mullorn to smoke and we played another game, which Gimel also won..
4 DREULOR
Later on I went to bed and had a series of dreams. In one of them I lay asleep, surrounded by robed figures. They were wondering what to call me, and decided on Drishnu I was about to go along with this, but then I felt my more real and highly powerful self wake up and deny it. It was angry, as if insulted by such a name, and cried out “NO!”
I woke suddenly in a cold sweat, heart thudding.. Only a dream. It was like a Demon Lord waking up inside me. It felt more real than I did. More like the real me. But it was only a dream. I drifted off to sleep again.
In my dream I slept and woke, woke and slept in confusing order.
Then I was walking up some run-down stairs. I knocked on the door to the right.
The door opened to reveal Realtor's lined face.
“Dreulor.”
“Kruger. Come in.”
“Well I’ve met a few Demon Lords, but only one prolonged conversation. That was with Drishnu, and he wants to kill me.”
“Well, I’ve got my own problems. I mean what is an Age Lord and how does he fit into the scene?”
“I suppose you can discover that.”
Realtor's place was overflowing with junk.
“I suppose I can. But it’s unlikely.”
“How’s the story going?”
“Too fast. We’re already up to Dreulor.”
“We can always add to the stories later”
“Then we’d have to add a lot to slow it down much.”
“Possibly.”
Dreulor offered me a smoke. I accepted, and we talked about writing for a few hours. Then Dreulor faded and I woke up. I was in a beach house. I could hear the sound of the waves. I could smell the salt in the air. I gazed around at a room of slightly warped timbers.
I got up and dressed with clothes hanging on a chair by the bed. I walked out to a primitive kitchen. Then I walked out of the front door and down five rickety steps to the beach.. Gulls screamed.
I walked down the beach towards what looked like a whale. It was not a whale. It was a spacecraft shaped like a zeppelin.
And there was 807 at a hatchway beckoning me inside. I followed him in and up a ladder. The airlock closed behind us. The ladder took us up to the bridge. 807 operated the controls and the spacecraft took off. We shot smoothly into the shadow side of the planet. Gazing through the windows I noticed that we were surrounded by other small craft.
“What are they?”
“Self-propelled caskets.”
“You mean flying coffins? Whatever for?”
“Part of Myron’s Galaxy. The dead are pledged to Myron and ostensibly head for Myron’s pleasure planet – Ramified Of course the place does not exist, but Myron did a deal with some advanced aliens and they harvest the caskets.”
“This is feeling more like a dream. You know for a while I’ve been unsure if I was asleep or awake.”
“You should try being unsure if you’re a human or an android.”
“Is it similar?”
“It’s similarly confusing. The 502 had a terrible time. But the 807 knows that he is an android. The problem was in copying humans so exactly. The 502 could never be sure.”
I pondered the ramifications of being an android for some time. Then I started thinking of the other rooms under the bridge. I asked 807.
“Oh, there’s only one room down there. The tomb. Do you want to look?”
“Yes. Is it this hatch?”
“That’s the one.”
Down below was indeed a tomb. The huge coffin stood open, and all around it were many kinds of offering. There were glazed ceramic pots of every colour, clothing of all kinds, weapons, beads, bolts of fabric, food, embroidered flags and ceramic models of warriors and slaves. I spent some time exploring it all. Then I climbed back up to the bridge.
“I’m glad you like your tomb,” said Drishnu He had an arrow aimed at my head. He shot me through the right eye.
“807, prepare the body. Meet me on Serath”
“Yes, Drishnu”
Drishnu dissapeared
I felt as if I were dreaming. Stars spun around me. I heard the miow of a cat. Then I saw it in a passage. A black and white cat. I recognised the cat.
“Anubus.”
“Miow.”
I followed him down the passage. I couldn’t feel my body. Perhaps I was dead.
The passage led to a doorway, the doorway led to a great vault full of wailing souls flitting in all different directions. The inner face of the vault was lined with archways. For a while I was drawn to the archway of Tara – a Buddhist Goddess. But she told me I did not practice enough compassion. I wandered around with a sense of dread. Then I was compelled to the archway of the Demon Lords.
I was part of a huge crowd chanting the name of Drishnu Then I was racing down a passage that led to Drishnu
Then I was a little coloured flame in a huge vortex of little flames. At one point I felt myself to be a small coloured scale on the body of some vast creature. I knew the creature had to be a Demon Lord . Then I felt myself rushing to some distant destination.
5 MYRON
Drishnu stood on the top of a grassy hillside on Serath In one had was a small gilded cage. Inside the cage was a ginger and white kitten. 807 looked on impassively.
“Now, when you meet the stone guardian just quote the password.”
“The one about the Baobabs?”
“Exactly. When you arrive give Myron his gift.”
807 took the gilded cage and turned around to face the portal of swirling colours. He stepped through the portal and his eyes were assaulted by a powerful light. It was the fierce bluish sun of the planet Hades, shining in a violently blue sky. All around lay a howling desert of sand and rock. There were several wooden boats perched incongruously on the sand, and there was a monolithic gargoyle planted in the rock nearby. This was the stone guardian.
“State your name and business with Myron”
“I am service Android 807. I carry a gift for Myron from Drishnu”
“Any word for the party?”
“The Baobab blossoms in spring.”
“You are honoured guests. Please take a boat.”
807 trudged across the blistering sand towards the boats, keeping the cage floor level. He climbed into the nearest boat and it rose vertically into the air. It stopped at 10 metres above the desert. The inside of the boat was decorated with plush cushions. With a smoothness that was almost possible to detect the boat surged forward through the dazzling blue sky.
A bubble of air moved with the boat, so that no wind of passage could be detected. 807 placed the gilded cage containing the kitten down on a low table and gazed about at the desert. There was something that glittered like a cluster of diamonds on the horizon and 807 surmised that this was their destination. It would be Myron’s palace. The reflections were so intense that 807 was almost blinded.
Eventually the boat began to descend. It landed with a grating sound on the sand by a jetty. The jetty was composed of intricately carved pillars and great slabs of whitish stone. It had suffered much erosion by wind borne sand, and in places it was hard to tell which configurations were due to erosion and which to the original carvings.
807 picked up the cage and began to walk down the long stone jetty. As he walked he shielded his eyes from the glaring palace. He reasoned that this was an intentional part of the palace’s defence.
Near the beginning of the jetty 807 was welcomed by a small red demon.
“I will be your host for a little while. Allow me to escort you to the main hall.” 807 followed the demon towards the palace, and as he walked he could hear music. It sounded a little like the music of desert nomads, with elements of heavy metal.
“Excuse me, but would you know how many guests are invited?”
“Oh, several hundred at least. I’ve heard that all the Demon Lords will be present.”
The music grew louder. At a certain distance the dazzling reflections stopped.. 807 saw the end of a long red carpet that led across an icy polished floor and into the palace. They walked the long red carpet..
It’s impossible to cross this polished floor without the carpet,” the demon commented, “it has almost no friction and it’s amazingly hard, but it is just part of the primitive physical defences.”
At length they passed an ornate sign;
YOUR MAGIC IS INOPERATIVE BEYOND THIS POINT
“Only Myron uses magic in the palace.” Said the demon. Then they passed through a huge arched doorway and into the lobby. The lobby had shimmering opaque walls, and a large, old-fashioned wooden cabinet. Above the cabinet was a sign;
PLACE ALL WEAPONS HERE
807 had no weapons so they could directly enter the main hall. The hall was a magnificent structure. Unlike most of the palace, which was composed of faceted quartz, the main hall was composed of translucent marble. The fierce sun was filtered to a warm glow . The marble was patterned with fascinating veins and whorls. There were throngs of people or beings in the hall, all dressed in diverse costumes, except for the few who went naked.
There were witches and warriors, sorcerers and demons, vampires and Demon Lords, as well as many other kinds of being. The demon led 807 through the crowd and found Myron. He was chatting to a small circle---the Demon Lord Jin Ri, A witch dressed in black, with long dark hair, pale skin and green eyes, A powerful bearded dwarf, and an old man, a necromancer, dressed in a black cloak with piercing eyes. The small demon waited for a pause in the conversation, then announced the guest with a gift.
“Gifts often insult me,” said Myron. His voice had a mesmerise control and perfection. He was a strange creature. His body was basically humanoid, but his head was distended in an egg shape and he had enormous black cat-like eyes, slanted and predatory. He gave the impression of amazing intelligence and evil. He was standing out of deference to his guests, but his natural position was levitated about three metres from the ground.
“This a gift from your disciple, Drishnu”
“ah, the beast-sorcerer of Serath He brings me a cat? Where is Drishnu himself?”
“Lord I know not. Perhaps on Serath” 807 offered the caged kitten.
“Let me observe the animal,” intoned Myron, coming closer. He peered inside the cage, then opened the door. The kitten jumped out and stood calmly on the polished floor.
“What a strange kitten,” exclaimed Myron, “but it fools me not.”
“What do you mean, Lord,” asked 807.
“A joke of Drishnu’s. I like this gift.”
807 was relived but confused. “Why do you say that, Lord?”
“Drishnu ! Emerge!” Myron shouted in response, “I know who the last soul is.”
The kitten grew and changed, turning into a man dressed in leather armour.
“Well met, Drishnu,” said Myron.
“Greetings, noble lord. You quickly saw through my disguise.”
“Yes, and I knew you would send the final soul with emphasis.”
Both Myron and Drishnu turned to stare ant the android, 807.
“What does that mean, logical one?” asked Myron with sarcasm.
“I’m not sure, Lord.”
“Well, you know that I made a deal with Drishnu . One thousand souls for the life of his brother. The number is complete now. The soul of Kruger has been delivered, but it was not the kitten. As you can see the kitten was Drishnu So where is the soul of Kruger?”
“What? I’m an android. I thought I was until now. Can I be Kruger?”
“You tell me, electronic one,” retorted Myron with a laugh.
“I didn’t think that ..or..”
“Most androids have few doubts. You are the final soul, so in a very literal way I can command you to go to Hell!”
807/Kruger staggered backwards. Then he turned and walked sadly from the room. He walked out across the red carpet, and into the sandy desert. On the way he passed two warriors coming the other way.
One was a huge bear of a man with a small beard and a long sword strung across his back. His dark hair was long and wild. This was Thadagar from the planet Serath The other man was smaller and dressed in leather armour like Drishnu He was Gavid, the younger brother of Drishnu
They came across the red carpet, hot and dusty. Thadagar approached the weapons cabinet and with some regret placed his swords inside. They instantly vanished from his sight.
Gavid came across the hall and embraced Drishnu They pounded each other on the back. Drishnu hailed Thadagar, who was reunited with his friends, Thorgrim the dwarf, Serena and Mordrid the necromancers.
Across the Hall Rashalika the Demon Lord was explaining to those around him that he was collecting Galaxies. He was manifested as a human of medium hight with intense dark red eyes, blue skin and a maroon costume.
“I have collected a number of them by now, and I plan to rule a galactic cluster. Naturally I am on the look out for more. The trick is to gain control of the new galaxy by wresting it from its current ruler. I’ve taken a fancy to the milky way, so I came to this party.”
“Well who rules this galaxy now?” asked a deep green alien.
“I thought that was obvious.”
Myron glanced at a large clock on the wall.
“Time!” he called, “The last guests have arrived and the uninvited guests are about to depart.”
No sooner had he spoken when a number of beings fell to the polished stone floor, writhing and screaming. When they were dead Myron levitated the bodies and had them flow though a special doorway. Serena and thorgrim laughed.
“I can feed my pets this way,” He explained, turning to Mordrid, ”I am partly responsible since there was only one simple pass-word to gain admittance. But there you go, no party without an invitation.” He clapped his hands and above the guests great tables loaded with every kind of food appeared and began to drift down. The tables landed and most of the guests began to eat..
“How have you been, Gavid?” asked Drishnu
“Like awaking from a nightmare. I drifted for years with no real body, but I could feel the terrible heat of the sand and dust. I was hungry and thirsty but I couldn’t eat or drink.”
“Iiiieerrr…” Teddy stopped talking. Veronica took the key and wound up his mainspring.
“Oh let me d…Well, Veronica, it’s way past bedtime.”
“No it isn’t, Teddy. I’m not six any more. Go on with the story.”
“I’ve lost my place. I’m just a poor old teddy who clanks and squeaks.”
“Gavid was just telling his story. It must be Drishnu’s turn next.”
Teddy continued.
Then Thadagar asked Gavid how he came to be dead in Hades for years. Drishnu laughed and said that was a long story. He bit into a large drumstick.
“All the better,” retorted Thadagar.
“You tell the story,” said Gavid to Drishnu, It’s mostly about you.”
“Where shall I start? Beginnings must be chosen.”
“On the altar outside Tansho village.” Gavid laughed. He stuffed his face with food.
Tansho village stood in a remote area of Serath Unlike most of the fishing and farming villages on the continent of Kureth, Tansho lived by hunting, and they were cannibals. They worshipped the huge Ursa Tigers, and every year left a human sacrifice on an altar at the edge of the forest. When no other humans had been captured a victim was selected from Tansho’s children.
At the age of two Drishnu was selected in this way. But the tribal sorcerer was Drishnu’s uncle. He had just been hunting with bow and arrow, and had shot a lost Ursa Tiger cub. The sorcerer skinned the animal and tied the pelt around Drishnu, seeing a way to save the child.
When the Ursa tiger came to the alter for it’s free meal, it found a living creature with mingled scents, but it recognised the smell of it’s own cub and took it back to the den. Drishnu was raised by the tigers. When he was older he came to visit the village, where most of the villagers treated him as a ghost or mythical being. He spent time with Gavid, teaching him to hunt like a tiger, and how to reach the mystical realm of Ursa dreaming. Drishnu learned human sorcery from his uncle.
One night, when he was seventeen, Drishnu rode into Tansho on the back of a great Ursa tiger. Most of the villagers fell down to worship him, but the head man and the sorcerer tried to oppose him. Drishnu blasted them with his magic. He took control of the village and trained them into a force of warriors. He then systematically attacked every other village on the continent of Kureth.
Drishnu would convert each conquered village, gathering new warriors for his army and establishing a cult with himself as the object of worship After Kureth had been consolidated as the kingdom of Drishnu, ships were gathered to attack the city of Sila on the island of Kesh.
At this time Drishnu was teaching Gavid how to dream travel. Drishnu found a drug and a new technique to greatly increase their range. One night they managed to reach the realm of Myron. After being quizzed by the stone guardian they were allowed to walk across the desert to Myron’s palace.
When they arrived, very hot and thirsty, Myron offered them two glasses of water. Drishnu was cautious, but Gavid was beyond caution, he was parched. He drank the water. The water was poisoned. He died, and his soul went to wander the seven hells of Hades as a thirsty ghost.
Drishnu begged for the return of his brother. Begging was nothing to Myron. He said he would aid Drishnu on the path of the Demon Lord. From human he had to turn demon. Myron made a deal with Drishnu The life of his brother for a thousand human souls.
Myron also told Drishnu of the portals on Serath He advised Drishnu to seek the Jewel-staff, since with this the souls would more easily flow to him once the people were dead. So Drishnu went to Kora Tuve and wrested the Jewel-staff from Korm.
Drishnu’s second act was to gather a force together, with thirty warriors mounted on Ursa tigers. He had all the warriors take a drug and in a state of trance dedicate their souls to him after death. Then he found the portal and took this force through to another world, which was in a state of war. They entered a terrible battle and many souls went to Drishnu
Drishnu returned to his own world and continued his plans for conquest. Before every major battle the troops would dedicate their souls to him. In time Drishnu controlled half of Serath Then he travelled to a new continent on the far side of the globe. There he met another great warrior---Thadagar. They decided to fight with swords. They fought for three days with only minor wounds exchanged. At last they called a truce, and divided the planet between them.
Drishnu had an infected cut from the long battle with Thadagar. He fell into a coma and was out of action for many days. When he woke he was a demon, with various new abilities. Now he was more directly under the control of Myron.
Drishnu was back in his home-land when he was visited by a curious man who called himself the author. This was auspicious because Drishnu had 999 souls. He arranged for the death of this Kruger, and made it a special occasion, to coincide with Myron’s party. When he delivered the final soul Gavid would be restored to life and he would be promoted to Demon Lord.
Drishnu finished the story.
“So you are now a demon Lord?” asked Gavid, his honest face crinkled into lines of worry.
“I am, and potentially anyone could become one.” Drishnu looked around. A wide circle of listeners were standing silent, watching.
“Oh, I’m sure you must be born a Demon Lord.” This was a tall thin being with the skin of a tangerine.
“You could be. But not in my case.”
Thadagar pushed his way through the crowd and brazenly spoke to Myron directly.
“Well how about you, Myron? How did you become a Demon Lord?”
There was an embarrassed, frightened silence. Some clearly expected Myron to blast Thadagar, or something. But Myron simply smiled. “I will tell you my story.” Then everyone in the hall fell silent and listened.
“I was born in a tent in the desert. My race is Kargueligan, and my people were nomads of the desert. We used to walk around, using our feet all of the time. My father didn’t care for many material possessions. We had a tent, a carpet, some clothes and a beast of burden. Everything else fit in a couple of small chests or was carried.. I had a Younger brother, and we never got on well. I did like my uncle, and I learned to read his books. He had a tent in the scrubland and hardly ever moved the tent, so he could collect books.
My father was contemptuous of books. He was a great intellectual who only trusted memory. He had memorised all the important Scriptures, and tried to impart them to me. My younger brother Kaleb showed more promise.
I liked to read the old legends of the Demon Lords. For some reason the stories held a great fascination for me. My father was shocked and sorrowful. “Trust in the Gods, Myron,” he used to say, ”Those legends of Demon Lords were written long before the reliable Scriptures. They can’t be true. They have no oral tradition.”
I recall that my mother lost a string of beads. She looked around but it was me who found them. I hid the beads and said nothing. Then I thought, well, if beads can be lost in this way, why not other things? I carefully began to steal small items; a comb, a compass, then a knife. I think my father suspected me, but he said nothing.
I enjoyed teasing my father. I would bring up subjects on which we disagreed and get him into an argument – which was something he said the wise Kargueligan avoided. I would say, “Father, it is written that the Demon Lords were once more powerful than the Gods, and their time will come again.”
“Nonsense!” he would bluster, “they don’t even exist!”
“But there is no more proof for the existence of the Gods.”
And so the argument would continue until my father realised that he had again demonstrated that he was not a wise Kargueligan.
The nomadic life continued until I was eleven. We went to see my uncle, only to find his cut body in the wreckage of his tent. Carrion birds had already feasted on his flesh. We knew who had killed him---the Andracilian warriors. We usually kept moving to avoid their bands. I found a special book in the wreckage, and my father didn’t stop me keeping it. It was a book about the Demon Lords.
This book was no ordinary story. It was a cult book. At that time I had no idea what kind of magic was possible in a simple book. Later I learned that my uncle was only the fearful guardian of the book and would not dare to read it. If my father had known this I doubt that I could have kept the book. I even thought the events were random or accidental, but there is no such thing in the realm of the Demon Lords.
The book opened my third eye and developed my evil nature. Things soon came to a head in that little tent. One day I realised my potential and true nature, and this is something very special and hard to put into words. I took my stolen knife and killed my younger brother. This act of evil released me and unleashed my powers. I rose in levitation to my natural position above the ground and called out; “spirits of Hades attend to my ascension, NOW I AM A DEMON LORD!”
Everything changed after that. The Andracilian warriors and Demons became my subordinates and obeyed their natural superior. I sent my parents into slavery. My power dreams began and I became involved in the deep study of black magic, accumulating a huge library and destroying any being that set up as a power on the planet.
I learned how the Demon Lords are incarnated like a series of Russian dolls, one inside the other, and how other Demon Lords can be collected and cultivated. In this way I know Jin Ri –the traditional Samurai warrior, and the young Drishnu, beast sorcerer of Serath Interestingly I also predicted my own Death and absorption into the shells of a greater Demon Lord. It should happen at the games after a party.
So, in short, this is how I became a Demon Lord. Now return to your feasting. The Warrior Games will be held in five local hours, in the arena behind the palace. All weapons can be withdrawn from the magic cabinet at that time.”
THE ARENA OF VIRTUAL COMBAT
“I love the flashing of the swords,” said the Demon-lady Queshar from her place in the stalls under a large parasol.
“Do you, my lady?” answered her serving Hobbit squinting at the program of events.
“Yes, but I’d never use one myself.”
“No, my lady?’
“No, I much prefer the dagger. My, that was fast, and I thought the big yellow warrior stood so confidently.”
“Victory to the Demon-Lord Jin Ri. The Andracillian Vermoch looses.”
The large blood-stained corpse remained inert on the sandy floor for only a few moments. Then it faded and the living Vermoch re-appeared in the stalls. Jin Ri acknowledged the applause, then he too faded from the arena and resumed his place.
Queshar snapped open a fan and handed it to the Hobbit.
“A breeze if you please, Cornel. Now, who is fighting next?”
The Hobbit had a difficult moment attempting to manipulate the fan and read the program at the same time. The program was a sheet of card and large words formed on it by magical means. “Next we have Thorgrim, Dwarf warrior of Serath”
“Thorgrim again? Undefeated so far.”
“Yes, my Lady. He fights the Giant Korsarin of Bakshelia.”
The two figures materialised facing each other at a distance. The giant howled, swinging a huge club. Thorgrim advanced undaunted, battle-axe in both hands. A chorus of mingled voices called out from the stalls in anticipation of the fight, giants and dwarves being traditional enemies. Korsarin began to swing the club like a massive pendulum. The club had great momentum, but it was slower than the more nimble dwarf. He kept out of range. Korsarin bellowed, lurching forward. Voices from the stalls cried out. The club came smashing down. It hit the sand as Thorgrim Fleshwhittler neatly side-stepped and in a flash swung his axe into the giant’s thumb. Korsarin screamed and the dwarf rushed between the massive legs to hack at a hamstring. In slow motion the giant toppled forward and crashed to the sandy ground. Thorgrim ran up the huge back and brought his axe down into Korsarin’s skull. He laughed with savage glee and the crowd roared.
“Oh, well done!” exclaimed the Demon-Lady.
“It’s the small ones you have to watch out for,” commented the Hobbit.
“Really? The dwarf’s companion is a large man, Cornel, and Thadagar has also been victorious in every battle so far. Serath would appear to be the home of exceptional warriors. Drishnu is also from Serath, and I love the way he fights with the tiger claws.”
“Yes, same Planet but different continents, my Lady.”
“Indeed. Now we have been watching fights all afternoon and I grow a little weary. You know I have some major creation work to do and I’ve recently been offered a Goddess position in the Nuvol sector.”
“I think there is just one more. Yes, Myron will take to the arena.”
For demonstration purposes Myron broke his own rule against magic in the virtual arena, materialising a sheet of red paper in the air in front of him. Before it had a chance to drift downward he whipped out his sword and in a blur of motion punctured it fourteen times, then sliced the paper into quarters and re-sheathed his sword with a snap. As the paper fluttered down his guests applauded and made sounds of admiration.
“In this last match I will fight one of the few undefeated warriors!” Myron announced. Thorgrim looked keen. The body of the giant had faded.
“However,” he continued, “we will dispense with the virtual field and fight to the death.”
Selena, a black-clad witch appeared by Thorgrim’s side, whispering urgent advice into his ear. With a show of reluctance the dwarf bowed out and left the arena. A silence settled as Myron waited for his challenge to be accepted.
Presently a figure materialised with a humanoid form, blue skin, and strangely piercing eyes set in a calm face. His name was taken up and repeated through the crowd; “Rashalika the Demon Lord. Rashalika.”
SPIRIT TEDDY
Teddy stopped speaking and froze in one position.
“That was a nice story, Teddy,” said Veronica, placing the worn old toy back on the windowsill, ”but what I’d like is one of those books. You’ve been my faithful teacher for a long time now, Teddy, but if I never wind you up you will never live again. You will just be my Spirit Teddy and I won’t have to listen to your stuffy old advice. I know you think that some things in this universe are just not for young girls, but something just draws me to the stories of the Demon Lords. I wonder why. Perhaps one day I will find out, and when I do, Spirit Teddy, well, I might wind you up again. Goodnight.”