Would you mind if I hurt you?

Night saw the smaller demon moving across jagged ice and deep snow, leaping up over the drifts to see his path ahead, following the dark glow of promising warmth in the distance. He felt as though he chased the sun, though he knew it was impossible. There was something on fire over there, he just knew it. He had seen fire, once. It was after a lightning storm, in the pines. The bolt had struck a tree and set it ablaze as he and his mother were leaving the area. Disaster forever followed the demonic boy, shortly after his birth, his family had disbanded for some reason. Lucifer had gone after the one his mother hated, and they had not seen him in months. Even now, when the young devil needed his father, it would seem he could be found no where in Northern Boreas. Had the male died, cursed for seeding Baphomet's birth? The child sighed and looked ahead, dark pink eyes noticing the darkening of the landscape as ash replaced ice and snow. He was close.

The young monster moved, a pale and shadowy presence at the mouth of a great discovery. His heart slammed against his chest with excitement. "Mother..." He looked behind him before he remembered, he was only imagining her tagging along, to comfort himself with her feigned presence. Anger darkened his gaze, a flick of his white tail to show his agitation. How dare she die on him, how dare she not fight to provide for him! How could his father pick such a weak vessel to give birth to the mightiest of Asmodeans? Vianni had never explained venom to him, he didn't know that when you fell on a pit of rattlesnakes, they would bite and kill you. She had screamed in the end, and those screams still echoed in his mind. The young demon shook his head, shielded himself from the loss, grew deeply angry rather than allowing misery to consume his mind.

The landscape had warmed considerably, making the Northern-born boy pant with the heat he was unused to. There hadn't been a time he needed to go this far South, but he would deal with it. His white masked face scanned over the tundra, making sure to avoid danger as young as he was. Baphomet was smart and knew better than to expose himself to dangerous situations. He knew to keep a look out for anything that could hurt him. Still, he was hungry and needed to eat, so he marched across the plains of snow and lichen-covered rocks. It wasn't until the boy discovered a large glowing crevice that he knew what he had followed this way. It had been the smokey haze caused by melting snow against the molten rock that flowed in a slow river down the length of the crevice. Baphomet made sure to keep away from the edge, though he did enjoy the warmth that radiated from the gate to hell. It was fitting, he supposed, to be at the mouth of hell, wondering if he was a true demon cursed to ruin his family. Had it been his fault?