Many hours later, with the sun reaching its zenith in the clear blue sky, Bel?s nose is first to alert her. The scent of death and dried blood hangs like a miasma heavy on the air. It may not have anything to do with Jodiah, but it is something. The tracks of a horse can be seen heading off into the woods that line the roadside; someone had left the road there? someone on horseback?

?The same direction as the smells?? she murmurs as she pats at the neck of her sudden restless steed. She keeps her voice soft and gentle with the intent of calming the stallion.

Belial is quick to rein her horse to a stop and dismount. This is as far as she will take the beast. There is no need to lead him into the forest. Her mount isn?t a warhorse, and the smell of blood will make him skittish and hard to manage. But if this is a red herring, she may need to ride further. Bel ties her mount to a sturdy tree branch on the opposite side of the road while her preternatural senses begin filtering information at a rapid rate.

The forest is quiet, too quiet. Only the sounds of insects feasting reach her ears. The typical fauna are otherwise giving the area a wide berth. Interesting indeed? She feels a lingering hint of alien energy but it is stale and spent. The smell is intense but lying underneath the dried blood and rot she finds the familiar. Yes, Jodiah had been here? But the scent is as aged as the energy.

?Days old??

Crossing the road Bel makes inspects the passage worn through the dense foliage. In accordance with her initial assessment, it appears as if a horse made this trek. A few stray hairs, most likely from the beast?s tail or mane, have caught on a nearby branch. Bel snatches them up before continuing.

The pathway is wide and easy to navigate on foot. For this tiny detail she is grateful as she gingerly sidesteps angled boulders and sharp rocks, fallen branches and high piles of dead debris. Her mount never would have made it through; it would take a fine breed of horse to navigate these pitfalls. Her steed is fast and agile, but the obstacle laden path would have certainly broken its leg. Finding a patch of clear earth she pauses to inspect the tracks left by the last curious traveler.

The horse must have been something majestic indeed by the size of the hooves, the width of its stride and the weight of impact in the tightly packed soil; surely a sight to see and worthy of battle. Not a breed she is familiar with. Yet this information offers her little. Unfortunately, Belial had never seen Jodiah?s mount and therefore can only speculate what he might ride.

It comes as a sad reality that she did not know Jodiah as well as she should. They?d not had the time really? Too short are mortals? lives and yet, she?d had less time than even that with him. With a shake of her head she straightens and continues creeping carefully forward.

Suddenly the passage narrows and from the looks of the area, this may be an indication of a struggle. The earth here has been dug up in patches and trampled in others as if by hooves. A torn bit of leather, with tooling of a lead, lies by the trunk of a sturdy tree. And at last! The first signs of a rider: footsteps leading onwards.

Belial bends and picks up the small piece of leather. It looks gnawed, pulled and worried. Holding it and the hair she closes green eyes. Images flicker in quick succession, but only from the point of view of the panicked beast. The smells, the fear, being left on its own all mingle in twisted unison. The sense of her rider is only a dark shadow but it grants the mare comfort and peace. When she registered it was gone the steed had no choice but to fight free and seek a path homewards.

?The horse loves her owner.? The leather and hair are pocketed as she stands, looking now to the footprints. They lead deeper into the forest and closer still to that terrible smell.

Dark, hot corridors of writhing flesh? tendrils brush like fingertips over raw tissue, seeking a grasp on any unwary enough to wander too close. The air is fetid, and hangs heavy, harsh; unfit to breath. Familiar, yes, but unwanted and at present inescapable. And there, through the bloody mists and undulating membrane Belial sees the gash of a maw; a mouth of many sharp, grinding teeth. It is like being inside the monster, surrounded, no, devoured by it. There is, in this place, nothing of the worlds she knows, only the hunger and urgency to consume all life.

In this place death would be a blessing and life is worthy of only one thing: unqualified annihilation.

In a flash the images induced by Jodiah?s introduction to his Gods is gone, replaced by the palatable fear of a large predatory animal. Its attacker is unseen and relentless, bent on extermination. The smell of pleasure radiating off its assailant merely incites greater fear in a beast that is used to creating such sensations rather than experiencing them. The bear didn?t stand a chance against the creature stalking it; its death was brutal, tortuous and inexorable.

?Did Jodiah do this?? a question without answers? but one that begs the asking.

Should she even bother trying to save him, if this is the Fate he?s chosen?

And yet? How can she turn her back on him? Let him fall away inside the Nihil without trying to pull him back? But what is she pulling him back for?

Too bad for Bel that she is unaware of Jodiah?s disassociation from his Gods, she was on her own walkabout when he was struggling for his freedom. In fact, Belial isn?t even aware of the physical changes Jodiah has experienced since last she saw him. Instead, she is forced to consider the chance that the hand who has wielded this destruction is the one she seeks to find.

Such a cold possibility to face? and without any present to set her thoughts straight, she must ponder the wisdom of this search? And wonder if he wants to be found?

Her ears lead her feet to yet another circle of death? the adornment of animals identical as the last. The smell, the feasting of insects? all the same... save for the size of the animals. These are smaller, not much smaller, but not nearly as large as the first.

?How many more are there? What purpose do they serve?!? More questions without answers? more horrors to confront.

Obviously ritualistic, she understands, but is it a summoning of some sorts, or a token?

No longer interested in following the circles within circles of death, she wends her way towards the center. The circle of smaller animals is nearly overlooked in her haste, but by chance or consequence she too soon realizes its presence. Appalled and horrified she finds herself in a clearing, staring at the grotesque visage of the impaled woman.

Death did not become her? nor had it taken her peacefully. Unlike the slaughtered animals the woman had been left to die slowly. The tale is told in the macabre expression laid upon the waste that was her face. Belial stands frozen staring at the tableau before her, trying to understand that whish is truly incomprehensible.

In her time as Demon in Hades she?d committed many crimes against humanity; she?d reveled in evil and rejoiced in sin. Sucking numerous souls to damnation, torturing the damned with aplomb, all for the glory of gaining Fallen?s Grace? All for the chance to lay claim to the highest honors, the grandest of Hellborn thrones. But never had she taken pleasure in the killing of innocents. Yes, steering them to sin so that she could count their souls collected, but only after they chose their paths. True, she may have helped, offered them advice or temptation? it was her job after all. Yet she?d not taken them in innocence? there simply wasn?t anything to gain in such practice.

The pure and innocent did not add to Hells Legion; it was pointless to steal their souls, at least, until they could be enticed to sin.

Here, in this clearing, at this moment, she sees evil with new eyes. And the taste is not one she savors.

Raziel leaves Bel standing alone in the small clearing. Well, almost alone? the dead woman still hangs impaled before her, the expression on the wasted face mocking Bel even in its demise. There will be no grace granted the dead woman?s soul? What is left of her means nothing? her essence has been devoured and there is no comfort Bel can offer.

Gingerly, Belial begins her investigation of the area. Spots of blood spatter tell the tale of a struggle. A particular area is nearly black with gore, speaking of increasing violence. Yet there is only one way for Belial to ?know? what happened? She is still reluctant. Perhaps not knowing is preferred?

Doubts assail as she kneels by the blackened earth, hand outstretched, fingers trembling. If this carnage was done by Jodiah?s hand? wouldn?t that explain his sudden disappearance? Again she wonders if he wants to be found.

Yet? she can?t help the feeling growing inside? the eye in the box, Jodiah?s cloak. Something bad has happened to him? Whether he did all of this or not, she can?t just abandon him. She has to try and find him? even if it means dealing with his Gods or those who serve them.

Bel already has a strong idea of who?s behind his taking? That odd woman she?d seen speaking to Alysia in the inn last night. What had Alysia called her? Belial can?t remember? But it was she who?d given Alysia the eye in the box. It was she who?d had Jodiah?s cloak. What did that odd woman have to gain from kidnapping Jodiah? Again? these are but questions? Questions without any quick answers?

She steadies her hand then lightly brushes fingertips along the soiled ground. Green eyes drift close as images begin to form? a fight, a battle of wills as well as weapons? Words, heated, angry, full of accusation and spite but unclear? she can?t hear the words themselves, but feels the power of emotions behind them. The betrayer would not be reclaimed. The betrayer would be consumed? Belial doesn?t understand what any of this means however?

But one thing is glaringly clear: Jodiah had lost his eye here? on this spot? and although Bel does not *see* the fight clearly? the pain shoots through her as if it is her very own. Jerking her hand away, green eyes fly wide as she jumps to her feet. Yes, this is where Jodiah fell? this is where his attacker overtook him.

It is the glee behind the attacker that sickens her the most? Whoever he?d fought enjoyed bringing him down, enjoyed torturing him? This does not bode well for Jodiah? and Bel feels an urgency to quicken her search.

Astutely her gaze picks out the path of departure. Nearly erased by the passage of days and weather, most may have missed it, but not Bel. It leads off towards the west, deeper into the forest.

Once more around the clearing she walks, making sure she hasn?t missed anything. Then, before following that path deeper into the depths of the forest, Bel flicks her wrist igniting the lumps of decaying, insect-infested flesh and the poor dead woman. She leaves only scorched earth in their wake, erasing the horror of the ritual circles and their final sacrifice. Bel has no intention of allowing them to remain for they are nothing more than a silent, gruesome testimony of the destructive Gods of Malfeas, the Nihil. If only she could eradicate Them as easily?