Young Writers Society

Aagares is a demon of the most foul kind: he is a tormentor. He finds pleasure in giving the morally corrupt their just punishments in Hell, and delights in the power his position gives him. Those who fall into his clutches regret the day, the hour, the moment they chose to sin and cast away their hearts. Yet somewhere deep, deep within, there is another side of him that will one day be known as Damascus. That side, however, is buried so deep within that even he is unaware of its existence, and he is Aagares first and foremost.

In another reality, there is another demon named Maahes. Some may call him a spirit; others would call him a djinni. But the ones who might have referred to him in such a term have long since disappeared from the world, and he instead has taken up a different moniker: Maahes, god of war and wind. Some speculate that he is Ra's son, and that he is born of the goddess Bast. But those who fall under his jurisdiction do not care of who he is the child of. He is a destroyer, a punisher, and Ra's most loyal subordinate. He is feared, and rightfully so. Out of all of the gods that watch over Egypt, he is perhaps the most powerful of them all.

Through the power of mysterious technology and a touch of magic, Maahes finds himself in an afterlife that exists in a reality akin to his own. While trying to discover a way to return to Ra's side, he meets a demon that he could have called his kin: Aagares.

The bar was busy as ever, and charming in its own way. The dim lighting and strobe of odd luminescent creatures behind glass illuminated the garish faces of the customers, praising the otherworldly and darkness of not only the guests, but of the location itself.

The live music, if it could be called that at all, was haunting in an incomprehensively deafening way, but no one seemed to mind.

This was Hell, after all. Or the Underworld, as it was more commonly referred to.

Aagares sat in a secluded corner of the bar, nursing a glass of tar-ish substance and reveling in the smoky haze of the room. The barista was laughing heartily along with the demon on his right, and he droned out the conversation pointedly.

In no time at all, he had his second glass drained and was interrupting the conversation next to him for a refill.

"Aagares," the barkeeper raised an eyebrow as he filled another glass with the tap. "What's the issue tonight? Still pouting over Molleck's regulations?"

He slid the frothing substance down the bar, and chuckled darkly at a jab that he was about to instill.

"Or has some seducer finally sunk their claws into you?" he chortled.

Aagares kept his expression neutral, aside from a distasteful curl of his lip, and leaned forward, tail swaying in annoyance.

"I'm afraid it's far worse than any fantasy you can contrive, Raum." he intoned dramatically. "The usual destroyer of sobriety and foe of civil production: boredom."

He readjusted the cloth cloaking his face from the sun's harsh rays. He had little need for it, but Ra had ordered him to infiltrate the main populace of one of his many planets. Ra suspected rebellion; after a few days there, he was inclined to agree. It was a rebellion that would die before it was even born. He knew his master's ways. Once he reported his findings, Ra would tell him to return and ravage the main city. None would be spared from his flames or wind, and a well-placed Detonation or two would likely be required.

But, for now, he was just a lone traveler, wandering from market stall to market stall as he tried to determine who exactly was plotting the rebellion. Ra had a certain...style, and he would want his most loyal servant to fulfill it. He would attack during the next gathering of the rebels, and watch them suffer as their loved ones perished.

He came to a stop before one of the stalls.

He told himself it was to keep up appearances; one didn't travel the market without at least one stop. But the truth was that an item had caught his eye while he was about to pass, and he had to investigate it to see if it was truly what it appeared to be. He reached out a hand and grabbed onto the small disk, fully intent on studying it - it looked somewhat Alteran, with a bit of Asgardian thrown into the mix.

But when his bare fingers touched the supposed artifact, its crevices began to glow. In a moment, the town around him was roughly jerked away and replaced by some sort of bar filled with creatures from races he had never once encountered during all of his travels with Ra - or even during his travels with Odris.

As Raum and the greater half of the bar's attention turned toward a brown, layered newcomer, Aagares cast a lazy eye toward that direction. His head tilted at the figure's obvious lack of horns and other signs of observable identification, and he spun around in his stool to face that way completely.

"You might want to serve this fellow something strong," he murmured to Raum just barely in ear shot of the person. "It's on me. Looks like I just found my entertainment."

To the stranger himself, he only gave an inviting, somewhat possesive grin. He wanted anyone else who was interested in conversing with him to know that he'd called dibs.

Raum slid a glass of black liquor onto the counter unceremoniously, breaking the tension that gathered in the room. Slowly, conversation returned to its normal volume, though a few still stole glances toward them.

"Here you are, mate." Raum called, unimpressed. "Apparently this son of a harlot here has bought you a drink."

His dark gaze traveled from the bartender to the drink that had just been offered to him. Drinks and his essence never fared well together, but it appeared that those present in the room expected him to drink if he was to fit in. He strode over to the counter and grabbed the drink, pulling down part of his scarf so he could ingest it in the way that a human would. He doubted none of the people present were human; those who bore the most striking resemblance all seemed to have something that blatantly went against that perception.

He took a long, slow sip of the drink, trying - and failing - to place its taste. Whatever it was, it was horrid. But that was how all drinks and all foods tasted to him, so he didn't linger long on how much he despised the foreign substance mixing with his essence.

"I suppose I should be thanking you," he said, looking over at the one who paid for the drink and taking another slow sip, "but I have a tendency to be more than a little wary of strange men in strange bars."

A grin pulled at the edge of his lips, and he tilted his head to better examine the stranger, lifting his own glass to his lips. How amusing- it seemed that he had common sense.

"Oh, but of course," he dipped his head in mock submission. "that's a wise precept to carry. I daresay that the company here would be a prime example of company to be wary of, considering where we are."

He smiled openly. "And that includes me."

With a little spin of his stool, he turned to further face the man, wanting to get him sitting, but willing to take his time to do so.

"I can't seem to place the apparel..." he looked over the sand-colored gear with a casual eye. "where were you trying to blend into?"

"I was wandering among the natives of a desert world," he said, and left it at that as he went to sit in the seat beside the stranger. He had no idea where here was, and he was sure Ra would be furious if he failed to report to him in the way he had been ordered to; Ra loved the showiness of a formal report, rather than him being summoned directly into his chamber's pentacle. Talking with this stranger seemed like the best approach to getting information.

He took another sip of the drink, then placed it down in front of him. "I fit in quite nicely, but then I ended up here." He studied the stranger, trying to place what exactly he was. "I admit I've never seen someone quite like you before - which world do you come from?"

Aagares

He nodded slowly and thoughtfully, putting on the pretense of knowing more about desert worlds than he actually did. He set down his drink as the stranger asked where he was from, the constant amusement etched in his brow growing further.

"Oh, did I not explain where we are?" He spread his arms dramatically, very pleased with himself. "Welcome to Hell. Or the Underworld, Hades, Gehenna, et cetera. I'm from here, if that bit wasn't obvious."

He rolled his eyes regally and dropped his arms, turning in his stool again to face the front. "Haven't strayed too far, want to get out, all that good stuff."

It wasn't obvious, in fact, but he didn't dare admit that. He had to play his cards carefully - he couldn't let the stranger know just how little he knew of this place. The underworld was the only phrase that he recognized; it was an alternative title for the afterlife. It was nearly impossible to tell if he was dealing with an actual afterlife or a world modeled after it - in the back of his mind, he recalled three previous times where he had been thrust from his world into another.

"Interesting," he said. He drank more of his drink, ignoring the burning sensation as it slid down his guise's throat. He mulled over what name he should give to this stranger - would his true name be better, or an alias? If he was still on his assignment for Ra, the latter would be the best option. But he was apparently among the supernatural - or, at least, powerful beings - so his own name would suffice.

He placed his glass back down on the table.

"My name is Maahes," he said. A moment passed. "If this is truly the afterlife, I'm sure you must have heard of my name and know who I am."

Aagares

He raised an eyebrow, putting on an air of being unimpressed, though it was just to cover up his ignorance. The name did seem familiar, but it wasn't anything he could place right off the bat.

"Some Egyptian fellow, I presume." He said smoothly, and crossed his leg. "Would it be too much to guess that you're a god?" with a tilt of his head, he nodded. "yes, that seems about right. Your kind does always assume that they're known."

He raised his glass, a little smirk growing at his subtle jab. "Which is perfectly respectable."

He gave a long pause, and then a mock start, his eyebrows raising. "Ah, right. My name is Aagares. Nothing fancy."

His eyebrow twitched ever so slightly at what he was sure was meant to be an insult; it infuriated him to be lumped in with people like Ra and the rest of his kind, though, deep down, he knew he was more alike them than he wanted to be. He honestly hadn't believed that the stranger - Aagares - would know who he was based on his name alone. It had been part of his act, a move to show off the power he felt he didn't have to seem less weak in his eyes.

"You are correct," he confirmed. "I am a god, and an Egyptian one. I am a god of war, and Ra's most loyal so..." He paused. He knew he should have kept with the pretense that they were related, but it sickened him to think of it even now. "...servant."