Death After Death

Simon approached his assignment with great care. He looked at the book with suspicion from the first moment, and at first, he refused to even touch it. He was set up in a reading room that was thankfully free of bloodstains and body parts, but a brother of the Unspoken stayed with him and watched the whole time as he started his work.

Simon tried using leather gloves to look through the book from arm's reach, but they were too clumsy. So, once he opened and inspected the cover, he eventually settled on a stiff piece of paper to turn the pages. It’s not really the way bookmarks are meant to be used, but whatever, he thought as he got to work.

The thing was definitely a demonic text. That much he could determine even before he read the title. The whole thing reeked of sulfur, and though he had been assured that only living things had auras, he would have bet that this volume glowed darkly for those with the eyes to see.

The first page was blank save for a few suspicious stains, and the second only bore the title Librium Malifica. Interestingly, no author was listed or even implied. That struck Simon as odd immediately because, from everything he’d seen, mages and warlocks were very vain and often took credit for everything, even things they hadn’t actually done.

This book had none of that, though, despite the obvious care that had been taken in its creation. Instead, it was written by someone who stuck to the facts as they saw them and wrote only on hell, the devils that dwelled within it, and their machinations.

‘There is only one end to the eternal cycle of reincarnation that we all face, and that is suffering in the great pits below,’ the book opened very clearly. ‘The devils know this. They know that in time they will get every man and woman that has ever lived, but they are impatient and will offer many boons to have a soul that much faster.’

Simon thought that was interesting since reincarnation didn’t seem to be an idea that most of the religions he’d read about ascribed to. It also happens to be halfway true, he noted, at least according to what Helades has told me.

Even more than what the introduction said, though, he was struck by the illuminated illustrations in the margins. Though the writing of the book wasn’t especially beautiful, someone had obviously taken great care in its construction. The flames that bordered the page like an elaborate Celtic knot were done in gold leaf and made this tome feel more evil than any of the others he’d read to date.

He continued, though, slowly, page by page, as he took in the words. Though early on, it described hell as endless in both size and depth, it eventually went on to categorize it into several sections and strata. There were then long-winded sections about what crimes were deserving of what punishment and who would end up where before going into graphic detail on exactly how they would be tortured for all eternity.