Avarice Blacksteel

Below is Above

Choronzon prostrated himself before his Lord. Xonereth looked up, he had as usual been deep in study. Such subservience was common amongst his court, even from the highborn, though in a swift flash Xonereth recalled the defiance of another, one who refused to bow on bended knee before him.

He rose, banishing the distasteful thought as he did with all that was unpleasant before him. “You may rise Choronzon.”

The noble shivered, perhaps in rapture, or was it dread, and he rose to a semi bowing position on the shining black stone. His long tresses raked the floor. “Forgive the intrusion Sire, I was hunting.”

Xonereth chuckled. His vassal went silent. “Ah hunting, I trust you fared well?” His laugh was cruel. Not because he wished to demean his prince, but he was reflecting on the victims of the hunt. The unrested ones, the lost human souls.

“Yes, Sire, but I was distracted. I left the lowlands to pass the mighty Nethrizil.”

“Ah.” Xonereth made a concerned sound. The great tree had been very much on his mind.

“The waters my Liege they have receded.”

Xonereth turned in a flurry of black cloth and glinting hair, however he did not answer.

“Does that mean our world is mended Sire?”

Xonereth paused and looked at the prince thoughtfully. “I think not Choronzon, I think not.”

The kneeling demon sighed, the sound was like the wind through rushes.
“As ebon tears cascade, bled from the shadows below and above.” Xonereth quoted.

“Sire?”

“I think I see?”

Choronzon appeared bewildered as he stared blankly at his Majesty.

“Above is below, and below is above.” Xonereth said with conviction. “There is a link. I think I see it now. It’s an hourglass.”


Xonereth had dismissed his bewildered subject and had gone to witness this new event for himself. He was shocked at how greatly the black waters had receded, and the sight of the tortured Nethrizil haunted him. Great spreading branches almost bare, glass like leaves forming a shroud on the hillock below. He cast his eyes away, he could feel the great tree’s singing pain, it ran through his veins and his very being. He could not afford to fail, he must understand.

“Guide me Nethrizil” He spoke out aloud.

Though Xonereth was a power almighty there were still some things forbidden to him. Namely to walk the upper reaches of the humans world in daylight, and yet Sheharizade had, Xonereth thought with admiration. He must however wait for the advent of darkness.


Through the human night he strode the desert, tortured earth seared by cold and strife. Xonereth took in the abundance of human fear and pain that lay scattered across the sands. He could sense it in the moisture that coated every exposed surface, and he paused to gaze closer at a random accumulation captured in an old enamel washbowl that lay cast on the sand.

He could see his mirrored reflection deep within the bowl, and he waved his elegant bejeweled hand above the shimmering gray waters trapped there. The droplets separated, and froze. He took them into his hands, tumbling living things, the gems of Nethris laying in plain sight here on the upper earth. Creatures of his world.

“Yes, below is above.” He stated victoriously. “I think I understand.”