The Under Plane
An excerpt from Hydall God of the Arcane's Diary recalling his final look at the plane that has now become known as "The Hells".
"Time - that fickle thread I once thought myself above - has unraveled strangely in this plane that is being called the "Hells". What felt like mere moments stretched into epochs and still I lingered among the Undeath’s creations, these "demons". Born of both sparks of creation and destruction, they thrummed with raw, untamed magic - each a living spark of the arcane. At first I marveled. Unlike mortals who must labor tirelessly to grasp the simplest incantation these beings absorbed knowledge as though they were meant to wield it from the start. It was effortless for them and I delighted in their progress sharing secrets I had guarded jealously from the mortal world. Here magic flourished in ways I had never seen and this plane suddenly became a crucible for experimentation. They shaped spells that bent the rules of reality wielding power that even I, in my infinite wisdom, could scarcely predict. For a time I thought this place might be the pinnacle of my work a testament to my domain. And yet unease crept into my thoughts and perhaps I should have acted upon those impulses. Their brilliance was unmoored from purpose; their mastery wielded not for creation or enlightenment but for destruction and control. I saw them shape this realm and themselves into a world of torment and a reflection of their own chaotic nature of both destruction and creation but without limitation and without rules in place. Despite their power they lacked the spark of temperance that mortals possess - the fragile but essential bond between ambition and humility. Alas, I was not able to keep my eyes on my experiment and when at last I turned my gaze back to the this plane the weight of my absence hit me like a falling star. The world I had nurtured was fractured. These "demons" in their brevity had twisted the gifts I left them. They fought over knowledge and hoarded it like a miser’s gold and turned magic into a weapon against one another. Cities lay in ruin. Their destruction a mirror of the chaos I had witnessed during the rise of the creatures that were both alive and dead. But where the the stronger entities thrived in their chaos, most of these "demons" were consumed by it. How ironic that the "demons" - my unintended pupils - grew stronger while the world I cherished spiraled toward oblivion. It is not the "demons’" fault; they are true to their nature I suppose. Their choices were their own and still I mourn for them. They were given the chance to walk in light and they chose to cast shadows instead. Perhaps I lingered too long outside of this realm. Perhaps I gave too much to those who needed no guidance while neglecting those who did. I see now the fragile balance of the arcane—how easily it tips toward corruption when untethered from wisdom. Would I do it differently knowing what I know now? Perhaps. Yet, for all my grief I cannot deny that both worlds—the "Hells" that they are calling it and the mortal plane—are both my legacy. I must carry that burden for it is the weight of creation itself."Hydall
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