Time for the tour.

“Well then,” your new fiendish servant stands up, licking her lips as she does, “as much as I would love to drink that glorious substance until the end of time, there is plenty of time to get that done later. For now, I should give you the tour of your new kingdom.” She walks over to the room’s window, which had a large curtain covering it.

You readied yourself for what you might find. This place may have been a paradise for you, but you couldn’t help but keep in mind that it was also a place of torment for billions of souls. You braced yourself to see a landscape of fire and torment, writhing agony and terrible creatures preying on those who sinned.

“Say hello to your domain, the Fifth Layer of Abyssia, realm of eternal twilight, Dystopia.” Silquintis yanked on the rope on the side of the curtain and it drew open. What you saw was… beautiful.

It was nothing like you were expecting, you saw a landscape of green grass with forests and rolling hills. You could see all the way out to a coastline with gently rolling waves and a setting (rising?) sun casting light across the land. Soft, white clouds drifted lazily across a slightly purple backdrop of the skies. Closer to you, you could see a castle down, bustling with life between grey stone walls and violet rooftops.

“That… is not what I was expecting.” You admit, your mouth agape at the beauty before you.

“Not your idea of a place where damned souls suffer?”

“Not in the least.”

“Well, to be fair, not all of Abyssia is like this, the other layers are probably more similar to what you had in mind. This layer was actually crafted by my former master, the Duke of this layer before me, to look very similar to your mortal realm. He of course designed it back in your medieval times, but I haven’t changed it much myself.” Silquintis was gazing out with you.

Suddenly something struck you as odd, the presence of a sun.

“That sun, is that another star? Are we in another world?”

“Not in the way you mean it, no. And that isn’t a star, it’s just a very bright magical light meant to look like the sun. It’s actually hovering over a vast ocean in the center of the layer. It doesn’t move across the sky, which is why this place is forever in twilight.”

“That’s interesting.”

“All right, if you’ve had enough of the view, we should begin your tour of the castle. There is lots to see.” You nod and begin walking towards the door of the room. You open it and begin walking through the corridors of stone brick.

“Something that may be important to understand before anything else is what exactly happens to souls when they come here. It is the decision of the rulers of each layer what to do with all of the souls that arrive here. It is required that they are made to pay the prices for their sins, but the exact nature of the payment is up to the duke or duchess. On the first layer, Avernus, the souls take a quasi-human shape, and are generally tortured in ways that are ironic to their sin. Those who were greedy at the expense of others would be bathed in molten gold, for instance. In Erebus, the same soul would have to wander the third layer’s toxic swampland in search of valuable things in the murky waters. In our layer, we literally transform the soul into currency.”

As Silquintis finishes this last point, she opens a large set of double doors to reveal what you can only imagine is your castle’s treasury. The room is massive, with mountains of gold coins stacked and piled inside. Some of the hills are tall enough to nearly touch the ceiling of the room, which must be several stories high.

“Every single coin you see in this room is a soul that is paying their due. They have been transformed into the very thing they hoarded in life and did not share. It may not seem like much punishment, but they cannot move, they cannot speak, they can barely even think, as you noted whilst you were in soul form. And to make matters worse, they will be stuck like this for far longer than those in other layers who are being tortured. And unlike you when you were in soul form, they are all very keenly aware of every single second.” You remember what it was like being a soul without a body, and the discomfort of not even being able to organize your thoughts. You can’t imagine having to remain like that for any longer than a single hour.

“In fact, nearly everything you see here in this layer is made of souls. Even the very stone you stand on is made up of transformed souls paying the price for what they have done.” This was a very fascinating revelation and glimpse into what the afterlife had in store. “You should not pity them, for their sentence is not eternal. Each and every one is simply cleansing themselves of their sin, and they will all find their way into Celestia eventually. It will simply take longer for some.”

“Are we the ones who decide when they are ready?”

“Thankfully not. I honestly have no idea what power is responsible for deciding how long each individual soul remains in Abyssia. I’m not sure anybody truly does.”

“Wait, so is there a God?”

“If there is, He certainly doesn’t make his presence known even to demonkind or angelkind. There is something that decides the fates of these souls, whether or not that something is a conscious actor or just a complicated machine doing its job remains to be seen.” So not even in the afterlife can one truly know the existence of the divine. Fascinating.

“That’s enough existential talk though, you have some subjects to meet.” Silquintis closes the doors and continues her walk down the corridor. The walk was mostly silent, and you began to wonder something.

“So, I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

“What happens to demons when they die?”

“That’s it.” The finality made you audibly gulp. “Humans and mortals have souls that are connected to their bodies, but the body and soul are still very separate things. When a mortal dies, that connection is severed and the soul remains. It’s very difficult to destroy a mortal soul, since they don’t actually have a physical form. On the other hand, angels and demons are literally souls taken physical form. Our physical matter is our soul, so while we are considerably more difficult to kill, doing so will end our very existence.

“You, have some degree of safety, however. Being the Duke of this layer means that you and the layer itself are connected in a similar way that a mortal’s body and their soul is connected. The difference is, if that form you have now is destroyed, Dystopia itself will regenerate you. There are two things you need to be careful of, however.

"This connection is severed if you leave the layer. It is restored when you return, but that means if you leave the layer and die somewhere else, Dystopia will not restore you. Secondly, the regeneration is not instantaneous. It takes some time, and if someone else manages to sit upon your throne before you are restored, they become the new Duke and you will not be restored.”

“How did the Duke before you die?”

“Azrudescan? He was assassinated while visiting the Phlegethon, the fourth layer. The Duke of that layer at the time had plans to attempt to merge this layer with his. Luckily, I was right next to the throne when this happened, and I sat in it before the conniving bastard managed to get to it himself. I miss Azrudescan, but it was his own fault for leaving the layer without at least a legion to guard him.”

Finally you managed to make your way through the corridors into a large hall. This room was long with columns lining the walls and a red carpet cutting down the middle leading to a large, stone throne that was encrusted with rubies. Distinctive shapes were carved into the throne, mostly of demonic figures in various poses. You walked down the carpet leading to the throne, and saw many people who looked almost perfectly human bow down before you, or perhaps they were bowing to Silquintis, you weren’t quite sure yet. It seemed unlikely they would already know who you were.

“Subjects to the ruby throne of Dystopia.” Silquintis suddenly addressed them as we approached the throne. “I have become bound to a new master, and am required to obey his commands even before the King of Abyssia himself. The throne now belongs to him. Bow not before me, but to your new master, Duke Rellik.” They all kneel before you, but you lean in toward Silquintis.

“Uh, that isn’t my name.” You whisper gently.

“Ah, I forgot to mention. Dukes and other high-status demons have two names. They have a personal name, which is one that people who they consider their friends and trusted acquaintances use when addressing them. Then they have their noble name, which is given to them by another demon of status upon their ascension to the higher position. In this case, that is me.”

“Ah I see, that makes sense. What is your personal name?” You ask curiously.

“I would only tell you that name if you ordered me to.” Her response seemed specifically phrased to imply that she didn’t consider you a close enough friend yet to tell you unless you made her. You didn’t really have any plans of forcing her hand, Silquintis worked just fine. “If you’d like, you are perfectly welcome to call me Silq though, it’s much easier to say.” That worked too.

There was a bit of an awkward silence as you stared out at your subjects, they were all eyeing you expectedly, and it took you far too long for you to realize they were waiting for you to make it official. You took a few careful steps back and, slightly clumsily, sat down on the throne. As soon as you did all of them raised their heads and continued their duties.

Well, this was your castle now.