Taehwa walked the halls of Carandiru, his boots sloshing over the black brick floor. He let his hand brush along the brimrock walls, almost feeling them. No never truly touching. Never would he again. He only felt the mud, but nothing came closer than brimrock. Its perfect colour, its impossible sleekness polished into a matt finish, each black brick laid perfectly, no gap, mortar or slightest misalignment. His eyes could touch, but that was the limit; only in his mind. He could imagine the feeling of it on his tongue. Taehwa found he could do that with most things, things he longed to touch, but would be forever separated by mud. He could imagine what it would be like to lick them, feel each bump, curve and crevice. Almost as good as the real thing. A happy life was one of happy compromises.
Carandiru wasn’t merely built of brimrock, it was made of the oldest, the truest, blackest stone. Older than the cathedrals. Older than the city walls that surrounded the eleven true cities and older still too than the angels in the sky; in their current state at least. Brimrock was uncrackable. Carandiru was impenetrable, the safest hold, the oldest prison across all four realms. A towering black smear of spikes that jutted above the lake of calamity on a solitary island. No shore sat below, only a drop of unscaleable rocks where the wind whipped and the waves crashed. No one had ever escaped, no one would ever invade. The castle would stand until the end of the world, the cease of time and its prisoners would rot for eternity in its cold, salt crusted bowels. And over them, Taehwa would rule.
Silent red figures lined the walls and they bowed to Taehwa as he passed, as they should. Their eyes were shrouded by their hoods, but the master knew they were looking at his boots and the mud that oozed from them. Taehwa was a tall man, towering over the red guards even if they didn’t bow. He often stooped and craned over them for inspections, searching for the slightest imperfections before they were shipped off to the Church. He wore brown suits and brown boots to help hide the slop that would inevitably stain his clothes - he was self-conscious after all. He didn’t like people looking, but today he would let it slide, he was in too good a mood to sully it. His perfect soldiers would take the beating if he gave it, but today they would be spared for the crime of looking at the muddy trail, today he would compromise. Even the perfect soldier has his flaws. And they were perfect, moulded by the change. Shaped into something greater than they would have ever become on their own, unlike the wretched creature that bumbled behind him. One of his Goblins.
Hairless, stooped and broken with a spine more crooked than a snake's. In its hand was a mop and the wretched thing urgently lapped up the mud behind its master. A failed creature, but even failures can serve a purpose. Unlike its red siblings, this one knew fear. So it hurried. The wordless, tongueless, grunting followed Taehwa’s steps through the dimly lit hall and into his favourite room.
Thick iron doors grated against the brimrock floors, giving a terrible shriek. It took two red guards on either end to move it, even with their enhanced strength, but this was only the start. Taehwa and his goblin - ever lapping up the mud - walked through the doors and waited for them to screech shut behind. In front lay a plain wall of beautiful brimrock. When the iron slammed and the total darkness enveloped them, Taehwa stretched out his arm and pulled back the left sleeve of his suit. He could not see it in the dark, but he felt the muddy fingerprints he left on the fabric. What was revealed released no light, but could be felt, even the goblin reacted with a shuddering tremble – it was terribly sensitive to noctra now. A ring of pure gold wrapped his thin bicep. When Taehwa stretched out his hand and drew the lifespan from the halo, it filled him to the brim. He had to be careful to not drink too deeply, to not drown. An infant would be unable to run the prison. Instead he pivoted the flow, he pushed it forward he commanded the walls to accept it, to change. A wave rippled through the bricks and like the red sea before Moses, they parted. What was revealed was the deepest cell in Carandiru. A room large enough to pace, and to dance. One of a kind in the entire realm, holding the only prisoner who truly mattered, but that would change, soon, soon there would be another. Christmas – as he understood those on Earth celebrated - was coming and Taehwa could hardly wait.
There was no light inside so Taehwa created it. He lifted his hand and formed an orb that gave a golden glow, stretching over his suit, the black brimrock floor, the pale goblin and the once feared warrior who now hung by chains. He was called the Bringer of Oblivion. He became known as the Hero of Purgatory. However, he would forever be remembered as Fahreddin of the Rupture by those who saw that war one-thousand-years ago. Witnessed he who split the world. Now he was a pet, a play thing. His once muscular arms and legs were sticks, no more than bones, pulled into an X shape by steel chains. The shackles radiated a soft purple. If Fahreddin tried to use his magic, the shackles would absorb it and turn it back on himself, putting him back to sleep, but there would be no rest. That sleep was full of night terrors. Oh how he would thrash, his black hair so long it piled on the brimrock floor and would tousle as he struggled and turned. His face remained regal despite his conditions. A strong chin and nose with high cheekbones holding back fierce white eyes. He was kept as a teenager, but no de-aging could hide how old he truly was.
‘Morning,’ Taewha said in a cheerful tone. It was actually the late afternoon in the lake of calamity, but Fahreddin had no way of knowing that and although it made no difference to him, Taehwa took great pleasure in fooling the Hero.
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Fahreddin gave no reply, his once green eyes tracked his master as he paced the cell.
‘It is customary to say “morning” in response,’ Taehwa said, but again was greeted by silence.
His eyes were filled with hate then they shifted. His gaze fell behind Taehwa, to the goblin busy with mopping the floor, as quick as it could manage without making a sound. His eyes looked like they brimmed with pity for it. It was neither a he nor her, once it was, but now it was impossible to tell. With every hair shaved and no distinct female or male features, a by-product of the change. The same was true for its red siblings. All of Fahreddin's children had lost their gender, but in exchange they had become something beautiful. Most of them had become beautiful. The goblin however, was not only a mark of failure, it was now stealing the Hero’s gaze.
Taehwa struck it with the back of his hand and he felt only the mud against its cheek. The goblin stumbled and scampered away into the darkest corner of the cell. At this Fahreddin gave a response. The Bringer of Oblivion tried to cry out, but it came out muffled from the gag in his mouth and before Taehwa could strike the sullen creature again he burst out laughing.
‘The gag!’ He said, putting his hand to his forehead and letting out another bout of laughing. ‘How could I forget the gag! No wonder you didn’t say good morning to me.’
Taehwa pulled the cloth roll from the teenager’s jaw and that hatred returned to his eyes.
‘You should’ve told me,’ Taehwa said. ‘I would have ungagged you.’
Now without the gag, Fahreddin still gave no reply.
Taehwa nodded vigorously. ‘Okay, okay. I see how it is.’
So Taehwa turned towards the goblin, cowering in the corner and he raised his hand.
‘Wait,’ a deep and sleepy voice called. ‘I’ll talk. Just don’t hit that child.’
Taehwa shook his head. ‘I know all this time locked away in a room without windows could send anyone mad, but this is a little too far. I mean, why not hit it? It serves no other purpose than to be an eyesore and a janitor. Also, what do you mean by child? That creature is fully grown. Mr Rupture, have you gone insane down here?’
‘Mr Mud, I have gone insane.’
‘Well that’s no good,’ Taewha said. He put a finger to his chin and paced circles around the room humming. ‘We can’t have you going insane yet, we could still get another few centuries of service out of you. We still need to find a replacement for the change before you expire.’ Taewha stepped, the mud sloshing on the floor growing thicker under his feet. ‘What to do, what to do… Oh! I know. We can get you a friend! Someone to chat to over the long days and nights ahead.’ Taewha walked to the wall opposite the Hero. ‘Right here we could hang him so you can face each other for eternity.’
Fahreddin’s eyes widened in recognition, in fear. ‘You found another, someone like me?’
‘We sure did. Isn’t it exciting? We will have to get this room ready to house two. No don’t be jealous, I know you have had this room to yourself for a millennia, but you will need to make room for your new little brother.’
The hero’s eyes searched Taehwa’s face and he knew that Fahreddin was looking for a tell, for a sign of a lie, but this time Taehwa told the honest truth.
‘Dear God,’ Fahreddin of the Rupture said. ‘I thought this hell was finally coming to an end. For them, for me.’
Then he laughed and it was true. Fahredding laughed until he cried, but he kept laughing. Taehwa joined him and he felt their bond. It was sweet, more delicious than any fruit-
A bang on the iron doors interrupted their joy.
Taehwa snapped out in an instant, but Fahreddin kept going, undisturbed. It wasn’t his fault, unlike Taehwa, he had gone mad. The master went to the door and as his Crimson Clergy pulled the grinding slabs open he swore to himself he would kill whichever fool thought it was a good idea to interrupt his play date with his best friend, but what was revealed was no single man. Two Crimson clergy lead a troop of twelve children. They were soaked in sea water and shivered in place, wrapping their own arms around themselves.
From behind the Hero of Purgatory bellowed out his laughter.
The children were beautiful. Oh what they could become when they went through the change. It felt like a good batch. Taehwa did not think there would be any Goblins created today.

