Thousand in One, Chance

[Malchaeius]

Thousand in one, chance.

By A_Guitarist, Greg Meixner

The Eastern Fields of Val Miran carried on towards the Dragon Teeth

Mountains, unobstructed from the view of the Eastern Gate. Tyrand, a man of

average height and an under-average attractiveness, walked east towards the

horizon.

His head cocked slightly on it's right axis, shook with the rest of his

body as he babbled incoherently to himself. Many pairs of eyes starred at

him as he passed a small caravan, carrying goods to the Capital City of

Thera. But, for some reason Tyrand did not stop to pillage such a vulnerable

sight as he normally would, he instead kept walking east, towards an ominous

thunder cloud that stormed over the mountains.

"Av-Av-Avol....calm down." Tyrand stammered. "No, Erres! Do not do

that. We must walk. To where? I don't know, he just told me to go east, so

we go east. No, I don't know who it was, but he stood next to you, you must

have seen him."

As Tyrand continued to ramble on and on, an old man approached with a

display of obvious concern upon his face, "Excuse me, Lad. W-Who are you

talking to?" an underlying, yet apparent caution to his voice.

Tyrand stopped in mid step, and turn to face the elderly man. Rasing his

hand, a finger slightly pointed upward, and half opening his mouth, he looked

as if he was about to speak when abruptly his left hand forcefully struck the

old man's jaw, knocking him to the ground. "Eeeeeeeerres! Arrgh! You were

told to n-n-not do that!" Tyrand grabbed his head, palms over his temples as

he fell to his knees.

With an infernal scream, he braced himself upon a large stone that was

embedded in a thick section of tall grass. "Cryp-p-pticant, Our God. We

pray, t-t-to you for council." Tyrand spat out hastily.

[What do you require?] Tyrand felt enter his mind.

"Cr-cr-piticant...we we we we wish to talk to you of ya-yaour Demon of

Chaos."

Tyrand again felt a message enter his minds, [We?]

"Y-yes. Avol, Erres and eh-eh-I." Just as Tyrand finished his words,

the stone he rested upon started to become unbearably hot. As he looked down

to his hands, a vapor of smoke and steam poured off the rocky surface.

Jumping up Tyrand looked about, finding himself admits an inferno.

Dark figures flew about all around him, corpses burned, and the sky was

but fire upon fire upon fire. He was in Hell. As Tyrand turned, he found

himself before a statuesque, yet demonic appearance. "Lo-L-Lord Crypticant?"

he questioned, his body still quivering and shaking like it had been.

With two flaring eyes, Crypticant placed his hands on either side of

Tyrand's head, freezing Tyrand's every movement. Tyrand stood there in his

gods profane fingers, his mind being invaded without permission. [Hm.]

Crypticant broadcasted throughout hell. [it seems...you...] His thoughts

trailing off [Your lineage...tell me of it.]

"My-My lineage?"

[Yes, your family. What of them?]

"I do not know of m-much of it. My fa-father was but a crooked peddler

on the Miruvhor streets and my mother, a pr-prostitute. I did not s-s-see

her."

[Your father...his history.] Crypticant demanded.

"He did not s-sspeak of ssssuch." Tyrand said, stumbling back as his body

came back to him fully.

[Why not? What of him?! Ask him!] the commanding thought demanded

again.

"H-he is dead. I...WE killed him. Avol and I."

[i see.] Crypticant peered at Tyrand, thought deep within his eyes.

[Avol..tell me of him.]

"Avo-l-l-l came to me, he told me to kill my father. Then Erres once I

finished the deed."

[Ha! Torments!]

"Torments? What of th-em?" Tyrand asked, shaking still.

[People have, no doubt, told you that you have multiple personalities.

They are wrong. Avol and Erres. They are Torments, you've discovered two of

them. But you've at least 12 more about you.] Crypticant nodded.

"Torments?" Tyrand asked again, confused.

[Torments. They are what create a Chaos Demon. They are the souls that

infest a shell, intertwining with the mortal to grant him power.] Crypticant

started to hover back and forth, carried in the air by his large wings. [i've

never seen them in one so young before...they usually destroy those they find

and never infest a being until later in life, when they are weakened by

conformity.]

"Wh-what does this m-m-m-m-" Tyrand stalled.

[We've three choices, Tyrand.] Crypticant came face to face with Tyrand,

their noses inches apart. [The first; allow you to go back to Thera, allow

you to grow and see what happens between you and your torments, which could

be...interesting] Tyrand just nodded between uncontrollable spasms. [The

second; Allow you to become on of the Demonkin. Intertwine thousands of

souls into your body, making you a vessel of chaos.] Crypticant grinned,

showing a set of vile and deadly teeth before continuing. [Or, unleash all

your torments upon you now, and watch them as they destroy your mind. Which

would be....interesting.]

Suddenly Crypticant flew back, hundreds and hundreds of feet, causing

Tyrand to fall forward upon his knees as the vacuum of air sucked him down.

Tyrand looked about himself and shook his head harshly. "Erres w-wishes me

to inform you of something f-f-first."

With a grin, Crypticant broadcasted, [What is it, Erres?]

"He w-w-wishes you to know know know that he he still worships you, and

has for years."

[Of course he has, he was one of my greatest disciples upon the Sixth

layer. Now, Tyrand, Choose your fate.]

Tyrand sat there, his knees burning in a mess of flames that encompassed

his body. Holding his hands to his face he shook. "Av-o-ol. What should I

do? And you, Erres, what of your thoughts?" Tyrand sat there for what

seemed like hours before looked up to his God. "We ch-ch-ch-choose to become

one of the Demonkin."

[Excellent.] Crypticant cackled. As the laugh echoed through Tyrand's

ears, a rift of Vellum opened above Tyrand, and struck through him.

Tyrand was blown back, shaking and shaking as the beam continued to pass

through him. Then, as the light passed back to the burning fires in

Crypticant's realm, a new form was where a Human once was. Large, red wings

expanded while two, goblin like ears twitched. Standing up, this figure

looked at his hands, and scanned over himself before looking up to Crypticant.

[Welcome, Cadavant, Executioner. Welcome to Thera.]

With a demonic laugh, Cadavant broadcasted back with a grin full of

pointed, yellow teeth [bliss! Bliss! We will not fail you, Our'Lord.]

[if your service matches that of the Sixth layer, you will be a great

force in Thera. Now go, cause Chaos.]

Cadavant found himself within Val Miran. Standing before a mass of

people who came to view what had been delivered here from the gods. Standing

up, Cadavant watched as the crowds back away, terror in their eyes.

Grinning, Cadavant made his way south in search of prey.