lowest domain of Ghenna - so far as such things could be placed - fell away sharply at a right-hand bend, after which were dozens of smaller tunnels branching off in all directions.
Now he was inside, the old myths weren’t going to be much help to him; those poor troubled mortals who had been afforded visions of the Dark Place had never learned much of use. Malich Cordein had been told more than most by the daemons he bargained with, thanks to the fact that he was an unusually powerful necromancer. Those who sold their souls for power were received with all ceremony into whichever of the chaotic domains their master dwelled, but the three greater domains were made up of many hundreds of others that were in a constant state of shifting allegiances. All Malich had confirmed was that Coroshen was the most ordered, Gheshen the most prone to open war, and Jaishen - Jaishen hung over an endless void from which even Gods would never return.
And it was here that Mihn intended to go, to the very depths of Jaishen, where the fissures in the rock opened onto nothingness. Lord Isak had left him a letter detailing his dreams since Scree. It was written in a shaky hand, and described being bound to the rock above an endless emptiness. It was not something he had ever managed to tell anyone out loud, but for an unlettered young man brought up in a world far from books or school learning, the disjointed sentences had conveyed a sense of horror that had made Mihn’s skin prickle.
The clamour surrounding the soul’s arrival had long died down, and away from the preternatural blackness that shrouded the gates, Ghenna was only as dark as a moonless night - if the stars had been tinted with blood. Not far down the tunnel Mihn came to a crossroads of sorts, where another, flatter, tunnel crossed the main one before splitting into two. The crossroads was marked by a blazing wheel hanging from the rocky roof. Mihn approached cautiously, but though he saw movement there, he thought the scampering daemons had vanished long before he got near —
— until a drawn-out scream pierced the air. It took Mihn a moment to realise the sound had come from the wheel itself, from a figure bound to it, writhing in the flames. He picked his way carefully down the tunnel wall, moving as quickly as he could, but still he could hear the figure wailing, until at last it fell into silence. He turned to look back - just as a dark shape shook free of the shadows and leapt towards the wheel, a long fan-like tail thrashing. The daemon’s jaw latched onto the figure’s leg and dangled there for a second before its weight caused the flesh to tear and it fell away. As the daemon fell, the figure’s screams were renewed.
Mihn turned his back on the terrible sight. The rune burned into his chest was hot to the touch now; concentrating, he thought he could feel it drawing him, so he followed it to the smallest downward-leading tunnel he could see. He moved as quickly as he dared, listening all the while for footsteps, or any other movement. There were plenty of shadows to keep him concealed while the faint red light of Ghenna shone from the rock walls.
To his relief Mihn didn’t find himself tiring as much as he’d feared as he made his way from handhold to foothold. Up and down seemed to have less meaning here; despite the clear path on the ground, he found he could keep to the walls with ease. There was a light from somewhere down the tunnel, and though he kept turning corners and discovered nothing, nonetheless the light illuminating the path continued, remaining steadfastly sourceless.
It took him a while to realise the light was not natural - as if anything could be, in a place such as this. The side tunnels he passed were almost pitch-black, and while the light ahead was barely enough to see by, without it he would have been lost. A cold finger of horror ran down Mihn’s spine as he imagined trying to find his way through Ghenna without it.
It had to be the witch of Llehden’s contribution. Thank you, Ehla, Mihn thought. Ehla meant Light in the Elvish language, and a light in dark places was what she had called herself. Maybe, in giving Isak that name by which to address