Far in the northern region of Hjalfar, where travelers are seldom seen, a citadel lay deep in the mountains. A man dressed in a long, black robe meandered the vast halls of the long forgotten citadel, Valdis. He eventually seated himself in a throne located in a large hall, and made use of the arm rests that had been built into it. His long, black robe draped over the edges, while the holes and tears near the hem gently kissed the floor. Around his neck hung a necklace with an eye carved into a small, round crystal.

As he sat, he stared straight ahead of him from under his hood, through the eye-slits in his mask, as a deep, purple glow shone through. He pondered about the world outside his fortress, as it had been years since he had been in a town or castle. He sighed at the memories that returned, and his breath that seeped through the mask formed a small vapor cloud in front of him.

His eyes glowed more intensely, and he lifted his hand, transforming the small cloud into what resembled a talon. He spun it around in mid air for a short time, gazing at its complexity and perfection, whilst boosting his own self-esteem. He soon became bored of it, and dismantled the vaporous claw - making it disappear into thin air.

I grow tired of waiting for that idiot to return, he thought. Perhaps I should remind him why he’s still alive, he grinned maliciously, pleased with the thought. He looked about him once more, the thin layer of mist on the stone floor indicating it must have been a colder day than usual, though he never felt cold of any kind at all. He looked upward and saw the high-arched hallways that lead to chambers only he knew of.

The citadel had its highest peak above his throne, and the deep, violet hue scattered throughout the hall. It lit up the walls of bent horns made from an unknown metal, which hung the heads of various types of formidable creatures. Wyrms, ochelons, glicks, and many other types of such beast trophies were present.

These creatures were once heralded as the greatest in the Continent. Now, look at them. Reduced to nothing but trophies, staring into the abyss of an unforgiving world, praying nothing stares back at them; but I am, he thought. He formed the claw once again, and this time struck one of the trophies off its hook with a rapid strike, shaking the entire hall to include the skeleton of a wyrm that was poised behind the throne. The hall grew dark once more, soaked in its violet hue. Suddenly, he heard footsteps coming from the end of the hall.

Ah, the prodigal idiot, he thought.

The young man came up to the foot of the steps that led to the throne, ignoring the destroyed trophy nearby, and kneeled. “My lord, I bring news from Coltend,” the young man said, visibly exhausted. “Catch your breath and be out with it, boy,” the Masked One said, his voice sounding like thunder rolling across the sky. Athar, the young man, breathed heavily for a few beats, his long dark hair rising and falling along with his broad shoulders.

“My lord, the kings of the Continent have decided to join forces to find a way to close the portals,” he said nervously. “Ah, so that’s why the council had been called,” the Masked One realized. “Fools. They should have tried that centuries ago, when monsters first entered the realm and the gods still gave a damn about them,” he said ironically.

The young man shuddered.

“But tell me, boy,” the Masked One began, “King Truls still rules in Coltend, does he not?” “He does, my lord,” the young man replied. “Ah, I’m surprised that the arrogant narcissist has decided to take action for once,” the Masked One said. “Not only you,” the young man said under his breath. The Masked One didn’t hear the comment, and if he did, he simply didn’t care much for it.

“You have done well, for once,” the Masked One said. “Come with me, I’d like to show you something,” he continued. “Might I ask what it is you would like to show me, my lord?” the young man said. “No,” the Masked One replied, almost cutting the young man off. “Simply follow me, and you will see,” he said impatiently.

The Masked One got up from his throne and began to walk down the steps, going past the young man who was still kneeling. His dark robe dragged across the floor, following his every step. The young man rose to his feet and followed closely behind. “You know, you’re the first non-beast I’ve ever shown this part of my tower,” the Masked One said to the young man.

“I’m honored, my lord,” Athar replied. The Masked One undid the mana ward placed on it, causing it to open. The open path before them could only be described as a spiraling path to the Underworld itself. Down at the bottom of the stairway, a blood-red light flickered.

Athar gazed downwards to the bottom, and could only hope to think that whatever was there wasn’t meant for him, for the sounds he could hear resonating through the unlit hallway were gut wrenching. “Come,” the Masked One said and began down the stairway. Athar was reluctant to follow. I don’t have much of a choice here. We all die someday, I suppose, he thought and followed behind his master. About halfway down, the light at the bottom went from a deep crimson to violet as the Masked One approached the entrance.

The entrance had a marking in runes above it that served as another mana ward to keep anything from trying to get out. The Masked One passed through it as though it were only a filament of water, but Athar had a hard time working through it, until the Masked One lowered his ward for a moment. “I had forgotten you are not as strong as I am,” he said with an air of displeasure. It’s your mana, after all, Athar muttered in his thoughts.

Athar looked around him and noticed the walls of the spiral soon became cages. These go from smallest to largest - the smallest of these is about as large as a small cabin, he gathered. Inside the cages, were beasts - both magnificent and terrifying ones. Some of the monsters tried to break the bars to their cages whenever they walked past one. Growls, snorts, sneers, and maniacal cackles were the order of the day between the beasts.

“They can’t reach you from there, but I’d keep an eye on the addia over there,” the Masked One said, pointing at a large, empty cage. The young man looked over at it, but failed to see anything. He decided to move a step closer to see if his eyes had betrayed him.

Suddenly, the monster seemed to appear out of thin air, and reached out with one of its two long tentacles. Its brown, leathery skin was coated in a nearly transparent gelatin, and its lidless eyes glowed a bright green with rounded pupils. It smacked the ground between it and its would-be prey.

Athar jumped back in fright, managing to dodge the attack. “You are an idiot indeed,” the Masked One said with disappointment. “If I say don’t go anywhere near something, I damn well mean it, now move along,” he said angrily.