Sadness, Joy, and The Nether

Hello again All,
I hope that my absence has not caused you too much distress. For my lack of words, I do apologize. Recently, I have felt very lacking in my writing abilities. Within a week of one another, two of my short stories-two that I had been most proud of-had both been rejected. Sadness abounds. For a couple of weeks, I lost my will and desire to write. Every time I thought I should try and start something, I'd get to the computer and stare at a blank screen before giving up again. I felt worthless. Those rejection letters, coupled with my lack of progress in my career gave me a whole host of doubts.

But that is not the end of the tale (if it was why would I be writing this now?)!

Just a few short days I was hired for field work out in South Dakota. It was great news, not just the fact that soon I will be paid to basically go on vacation with  a boat load of birds, but also the fact that I was hired because of my skills as a researcher. It was good to know that I am good at what I want to do. With that letter, came a renewed focus on writing. So after about a month of stagnation, all of my projects are moving forward again. Happy Days!

With this new job comes a change in programming here. Come April, I shall be setting this up as a field journal. Don't worry though, II'll still be posting stories. They will just becoming between tales of my adventures out in the field. One could even say my, "Continuing Adventures....."

Well, that's enough of an update for the moment. Thanks for staying with me, all of you out there. I know you've been waiting  for the ending of the Nether. I am sad to say that it will most likly not be worth the wait, but I still hope you enjoy it!

Te’Bol hated the tunnels. It was not natural for man to be so high up, so far away from the All-Being. That was why he had to go and save Velnor. No son of his was going to lose his soul to the nether.

Slowly, Te’Bol made his way up the ladder. He could feel his terror rising as he did. Te’Bol could hear his breath coming in short quick gasps through the respirator. It was hard work climbing with only one free hand. The suit he borrowed from the miners was too bulky to make it possible to grab both the ladder and the stun cable at the same time.

He knew it was his fault that Velnor was up there now. Te’Bol should have been more firm with his son the first time he had gone into the nether. The Pryarch said that spending more time in study was all that Velnor needed, and Te’Bol had been a fool to believe him. He knew that his son continued to go up to the nether, but the fool of a Pryarch kept saying to let him deal with that matter. Now Velnor was gone, up in the nether for almost a full cycle. When Te’Bol had confronted Pryarch Necor about it, suggesting that it should be the Pryarch’s job to get Velnor back, the old man had only turned pale. He finally gave Te’Bol permission to do things his way. This was why he now found himself farther away from the All-Being’s fires than ever before.

Slowly and carefully he worked his way up the ladder, following the path the Pryarch had described. It was slow going; the suit was not made for quick movements, but worry about his son kept him moving upward. Up and up he went, never stopping, never slowing until he reached end of the world, and stepped into the nether.

The first thing he noticed was the cold. Te’Bol knew it would be cold of course-- how could there be warmth in a place without the All-Being?—be he did not expect it would get so cold so quickly. For a flash he thought of turning back, telling his wife that Velnor had been lost to the nether, his soul forever removed from the All-Being. Before he was even done thinking the thought, Te’Bol discarded it. He was going to save his son, and bring him back to the fires.

Te’Bol took one tentative step out of the cave, and finding that his body still contained a soul, took a second, more confident one. When he realized that he was not in imminent danger of losing his soul, Te’Bol began to hurry across the surface of the nether. To the lights glittering in the nether, he paid no attention; his only goal was to save his son. He tried to shout Velnor’s name, but the nether ate up his words before he himself could even hear them.

He climbed up a boulder, hoping to be able to spot his son from up high, and saw the ship. For as long as he would live, Te’Bol would remember it’s demonic shape. The hard edges, the razor sharp fins, all of it was etched firmly in his mind. Now more than ever Te’Bol wanted to run away, leave the evil ship to the nether, but he knew he couldn’t. His son was in that monstrosity, he knew that fact to his core.

Couching low, Te’Bol made his way towards the demonic vessel. It loomed over him, and he could feel its evil ebbing out in waves around him. When he got close enough, an opening appeared in its side. Te’Bol readied his stun cable, expecting that at any moment demons would come pouring out. Instead, only a soft light came through the doorway. Seconds went by, and no demonic horde appeared.  Te’Bol cautiously made his way into the doorway and aboard the demon vessel.

For something that was supposed to be infinitely cold, Te’Bol found the inside of the vessel incredibly warm, almost comfortable. The same soft like around the doorway went on as far as he could see. He took a step forward and heard a quiet whoosh behind him as the doorway closed again. Te’Bol was now completely inside the demon ship.

He was inside a hallway. On one side the hallway quickly ended in a closed door. On the other side, it continued. Te’Bol went down the door-less path, stun cable at the ready. The boots of the mining suit made sharp clacking sounds that he feared the demons on board would here, but still none came. Te’Bol had begun to believe that there was no one on this ship, that Velnor was somewhere else when he heard voices.

They were coming from a little farther down the ship. Te’Bol tried to make out what they were saying, but the voices were muffled, as if they were behind a wall. The puffs from the regulator were coming quickly, and Te’Bol had to think to slow his breathing back to a normal rate. He moved more cautiously now, taking care to keep his footsteps quiet. If those demons were doing something to his son, he would make sure they regretted it.

The voices grew louder, as he rounded a corner, then suddenly there they were. There were three demons, all with their backs to him, sitting in a circle. Velnor was in the center of the circle. His mining was suit off, and he was talking. Something was wrong with Te’Bol’s helmet so what was said was lost to him. He was glad though he did not have to hear his son plead for his soul.

When Te’Bol rounded the corner, Velnor looked up. The shock of seeing his father come to rescue him seemed too much for him bare. Velnor’s look of surprise turned to horror Te’Bol as raised the stun cable. It was clear now to Te’Bol that the demons had already begun to steal his son’s soul. That was why his suit was off.

The demons, noticing Velnor’s expression, turned and looked behind them. When Te’Bol saw their faces, he knew his son’s soul was already lost. The best Te’Bol could hope for now was to keep the demons from stealing the souls of anyone else. With the full strength of a man used to years of hard work, he brought the stun cable down onto the closet demon. With a crack of electricity, the stun cable slammed into the first demon, hitting a face that mirrored his own.