Of course, he could as well let them plot, for Belial knew his reign was coming to an end. He could deny it to himself, but he knew that would simply be self deception, and he had learned once and for all that self deception was no help to him. The last time he had deceived himself was before the age of humans, when he had, although all wisdom spoke against it, let himself believe that he had fooled the Absolute just as he had fooled his brethren. That one mistake had earned him exile, and the situation which now plagued him.
With a wave of his fingers, Belial conjured a large mirror into his room and removed his shirt. His eyes fell almost instantly on the mark of his blight, and remained there as he stared in morbid fascination; the mark itself akin to a stab wound, but with a ravaging infection that caused the wound to leak a foul smelling liquid, and the surrounding area to blister. If not for that mark, the body Belial now wore would have been a replica of an ideal human male body, carefully sculpted to perfection. That was what it had been a few months ago, but as always happened since the “incident” as Belial called it, the mark would eventually appear, and his constructed body would thereafter wither and die.
Belial had quickly figured out what the mark meant, although such a thing was unprecedented; his soul, his very existence, had been damaged. He also knew that the wound was fatal, but unlike a mere fatal wound given to a mortal’s body, a fatal wound to his soul would cause him to cease to be. In some period of time, perhaps days, perhaps millennia, Belial would cease to be, and without his existence, the Demon Realm would erupt into chaos, as various demon lords tried to gain control.
"He appears in the Form of a Man with many Countenances; and he hath a Book in his right hand. His Office is to teach all Arts and Sciences unto any; and to declare the Secret Counsel of any one."
02-Aug-2009 22:21:05