#nine hells

Nessus, before its towering citadels and archaic architecture, was a curious place. Its sands so hot most fiends of the layer adapted to the skies-- like water, it moved swiftly and unpredictably. Bubbling and popping when you'd least expect it, sand storms making whirlpools admits its dunes. The skies were void of clouds, yet filled with veins of smoke-- erupting from Malsheems crevice, the pit.

When Baator was formed, rather split from its original state, it started with a crash. The great serpent Ahriman's descent plummeting straight from the cosmos, rupturing the realm into multiple layers. His final resting place was Nessus, or rather, beneath it. He struck the ground like a match, lighting his fires of creation-- hellfire, amongst the terrain as he fell. Once landed, his body laid rigid and torn. Burning and bleeding endlessly, he sat in a pool of his own blood and flame-- a pool far away from the prodding eyes of the first baatezu.

Ancient Baatorians-- those whispers of evil before given shape, were destroyed in the crash. Birthing Baatorians unaware of how their world came to be. Cornugons and Pit fiends, Imps and Cambions, from larvae to devil-hood each held an internal dilemma; How am I here, why and what for?

As there was no signs of life within Nessus besides their own (any intelligent, for that matter.) curiosity only grew as millennia's passed. Some speculated what brought them to life laid in the pit. A crevice, large and imposing sitting in the middle of Nessus. As the Styx poured into its hole, many believed it was feeding something below.

The pit was endless, seemingly so-- yet shuttered as if it breathed. Stones dropped found no end, and those curious to venture in were never heard of again. Even those winged found themselves endlessly falling-- as if pulled by their tails. Many believed it was a portal to the worlds beneath them-- abyssal, void like. Creatures unknown to their hellfire sun, creatures of potential threat to those above them. Others believed only something divine could form life, something above them all entirely.

Though the Nessian civilization was prideful, a trait present as if engrained in their vessels. Many could not believe there was one above them as they were what was here. Many unaware of the layers above their heads, and those with knowledge did not see the life as "viable" or intelligent as their own (in their words.) This led to a more unified understanding between pride fiends. Those like them were of equals-- hierarchy did not exist between them. Only age held strength, as knowledge was power.

Though despite their beliefs, many Baatorians of nessus pondered again; Why were they here, and why this layer instead of the others?

As their answer sat beneath their feet, it is speculated the great serpent was trying to produce a form of his own.

Though as they pondered about their endless lives, they grew. It was years-- possibly eons, before any sign of life beyond their own existed in nessus. The devils of nessus formed communities, dances, language and song. Three dialects of infernal, all branching from the northern, southern and western parts of the realm.

Each of these communities, separated by their distances also grew separated in their belief of the crevice. Some groups left offerings, on ropes held above the crater. Creations by their hands, or what they could scavenge from the unintelligent lifeforms. Worshipping it indefinitely, treating the land itself as a body. Others denounced its potential divinity entirely, claiming they were their own creators. Prideful they became of their heritage-- one nobody could decide where it derived.

Truth is fickle, complicated and corrupt. It is decided by victors, by those living to tell the tale. Eyes older than the rest around them-- hooded by their wrinkles and worldly views. Even the elders of Nessus could not truly conceptualize a time beyond themselves. Therefore what was discovered, was a piece of a picture they had yet to learn. They were right in their words, as all pride fiends are, they just didn't know everything yet.

Until what existed before them, answered. Though now in the flesh.

It is said in early texts of Nessian history, that a "calamity" later titled "rebirth" had shifted the layer's physical structure. Many early signs of the layer "breathing" on its own, as well as the rumbles of what could be presumed burrowing, erupted rampantly. The sands became like oceans, swallowing the built infrastructure placed above it. Many devils were taken by the violent nature of the land, as the tears of tectonic plates could be heard beneath them. Screams muffled by storms of grain, a sound described unreplicatible in the new age. Those closest to the crater were however met with another sound-- clawing. Loud enough to strike earthquakes below their feet.

In historical texts, a band of at least eight elder fiends had taken their search to the crevice, for their "safety" admits the chaos. (As again, despite the lack of hierarchal structure, those with grand knowledge were given priority-- even in searches for survival.) Said eight fiends of varying types were to have witnessed whom we know as Asmodeus, Lord of the Nine, for the first time. Testament's state that an arm extended from the void ahead of them, reddish in hue-- colored like the sky. Skin like their own, or rather they were like him.

Scriptures describe his appearance accordingly: "his body grew tall, hunched over the pit as if unable to pull himself up. His nails dragged against the sand, his breaths heavy as if the first. Blackened hair laid on his shoulders, layered like scales from his scalp. A crown of thorns sat above his head, rigid, then smooth towards the ends. His finger tips pooled blood, hued darker than the rest of his flesh. Eyes void like the pit, yet his pupils gold-- piercing, like the sands they walked on. His body was torn, scarred tissue still leaking despite its overgrown skin."

Its said each fiend present could see a mark of similarity to their kind, yet one thing did wager on their mind. He was wingless, his backbones prodding as he held himself by his arms.

Testaments say the fiends were enamored-- too bewildered to move. Yet felt a compulsion, an order, to do so. The sight was daunting, for a variety of reasons to the nessian man.

Many previous excursions to the crevice were made in attempts to understand it, many which had failed. Those seeking knowledge beyond what they should understand, fell endlessly till their bodies aged beyond time. Many people like the eight came to conclusions over the hole, believing nothing beyond it, or them, was to exist.

There was no way one of them could survive, so this entity must not be like them. He looked like them-- breathed as they do (though barely.) Yet sat above, well, below, them all.

Though if not like them, then perhaps beyond. A beyond they had been searching for. No nessian believed themselves to be beneath someone, though many could agree that they may not be as old as someone else. His face was not aged, but his mannerisms were contrary. Both erratic like infantile, yet restricted as if elder.

There is a nessian tale made of the events taken place in this encounter. Seemingly formatted for wider spread understanding of how Lord Asmodeus acquired his first founding generals.

It is said they approached the man wearily, as the weather changes of the land seemed to have halted where they stood.

"The discovery of Aeshma -- XXXX B.A"

"8 fiends, winged and old, sat before the void of their home. The sun reigned heavily over their flesh, though shielded they were by the devil in the flesh."

"Who are you?" Spoke the first wise fiend, questioning the man below his feet.

A silence follows long as the devil does not speak.

"We will not know, as he will not tell!" the fifth said to the first, "He is but the man beyond hell."

"He must've fell from the sands misery, that's what I see." "said the second.

(Referencing the weathers turmoil, shocking nessians out of the skies when the "calamity" struck.)

"No, from the ground! See his shoulders, bare of wings!" replied the third.

the fourth pointed at his flesh, torn from head to tail. Some believed he climbed, others believed he fell.

"Beyond us, I disagree." said the sixth, holding his arm out to he. "The man is here, surely has been, as have we?"

"Maybe newborn, or maybe he's old" said the seventh. "We must decide what will be known."

"So we will give him a name, what do we believe is true?" The eighth replied.

"Aeshma!" all of them chimed, "Aeshma is the truth!"

The old fiends sat puzzled, looking at each other quite confused.

"You feel as I do?" They pointed to one another. "believe the same name? We don't even think he came from the same place."

(END OF TEXT.)

The first oddity of this text was his arrival, poking out of the hole which many lives were lost.

As stated, the first of the eight asked him his name, in which he did not respond. The rest of the fiends felt compelled to name him instead, which strikes the second oddity.

Each of the fiends, despite their linguistic differences and barriers, spoke the name "Aeshma." Or some closer variant to their dialect.

It did not seem as if the pitted fiend could speak, or rather, he chose not to. (Which is the inferred speculation amongst archivists.) Letting the other fiends come to their conclusions over his state. Some believed he had miraculously survived falling in, others pondering if he had been thrown due to the lands sudden instability. The compulsion to help became apparent, those of the eight wishing to understand how he is still breathing, despite the many failings of nessians before (in his circumstances.)

Texts later describe the wise fiend's making camp where the man had sat, his body half held over the grounds they stood upon. Reluctant to leave without any truth of the matter, they tried to share knowledge in hopes of achieving in return. Its in devil's nature; Something earned, something lost. After all-- this devil, to them, was an oddity unable to be explained. The wise men stayed for a while, watching over the man in the pit curiously, who seemed to not mind, nor respond to their endeavors as time passed. Testament's exclaim the men spoke about their own corners of the realm. Practices and teachings, beliefs and culture. Some fiend's expressing their views, while others shared moments in time. In some moments, it seemed like the man did not understand-- continuing to breathe, undistracted by their words. Other moments he was silent, ears twitched on every letter. They could not tell whether he understood truly. Some writings say he hummed after their own hymns, other's say what sounded like a chuckle left his throat often. (Though the translations tend to vary from each source, we've concluded there was a implication that he found them humorous, or perhaps was endeared.) Writings said the man had tapped his fingers as they all spoke, almost along to the pacing of their words. Each of them began to fall to the same conclusion as the other; A lot was unknown besides their eyes on the matter. Of the man, of the world around them. Their tastes and tales may vary, tones and songs; Though they barely understood one another, there was unity in where their paths had led them.

A unity crushed, as the man of the pit flicked his tongue. An unknown they all begin to face, the immortal men to their god.

Texts say his body, one lax, became stiff as a board. His fingers curled inwards, his back hunched as if without bone-- raising himself onto his own arms.

As the text continues, we can see their insistent, prideful, worldly views on the matter collapse.

"The discovery of Aeshma -- XXXX B.A" (CONT.)

"You feel as me." Spoke the man from the pit, though not from his tongue. A voice rung through their minds, as soft as a hum.