Thaddeus (Chapter 26)

Template:Thaddeus nav The humble stone dost not know

Why hammered chisel cleaves it.

The hard iron dost not know

Why fiery flame scorches it.

When thy life is cleft and scorched,

Death and despair leap at thee,

Wilt thou beat thy anguished breast,

Howl and curse thy evil fate?

Give thy thanks in humble prayer

For the trials that wilt shape thee!

-- The Book of the Hammer, c. 9, v. 11-20

Squinting through the shimmering heat, Thaddeus gingerly stepped down a narrow causeway to the River of Flame. Each stone step floated in the air, and moved as weight was placed on it. At the bottom of this alarmingly unstable descent, a chunk of solid matter floated on the river; it looked like dried blood, baked solid. When he stepped onto the island, it bobbed under his weight; it truly did float, like a scab clinging to an open wound. The chronicles of the saints described Hell as a place where nothing was secure, not even one's footing. He'd have to be cautious, falling into the river might be fatal.

Angry heat pulsed up from the River of Flame, and not just on a physical level. Every ebb and flow seemed to howl with rage, directionless and without focus, a boiling pit of wrath from which Hell derived much of its power. At times, the crust on the surface would clear, and Thaddeus saw a few souls in the river, fighting and tearing at each other. Every now and then, one tried to leap out; its fellows dragged it back down for more punishment. No, falling in would not be a good idea. Even if the heat didn't kill him, he might never get out again. These suffering dead, consumed with anger at everyone and everything around them, would hold him down for no better cause than sheer spite.

Several islands bobbed in the suffering, with demons clinging to their surfaces. Thaddeus wondered if they ever tried poling them through the river to get from place to place, or if they were content to sit and drift. Then he noticed the bridges, made of some clinging slime and coated with the same stuff as the islands. A group of Flesh Mothers came across to him, whelping as they approached. Kneeling to set the hammers spinning, he wondered what a male of these creatures looked like. They probably didn't need males; matters of the flesh only interest demonkind when they can use them to get their hooks into a mortal soul.

Also on the islands were some of the giant poisonous bugs from Lut Gholein's deserts, living off who-knows-what down here. They and their offspring were hungry for mortal flesh. To complete the experience, the spitting fat demons joined them all. Any of the various young Thaddeus killed, they would suck up and spit back. Thanks to the Flesh Mothers and the bugs, there was never a shortage of bodies. By keeping Blessed Hammer spinning almost constantly, Thaddeus made his way along the islands without much mishap, occasionally stopping to zealously bash some worm the hammers missed.

So long as he kept safely away from the edges of the islands, the River of Flame was hectic rather than dangerous. The swarms of little beasts fell easily to a rigorously applied Blessed Hammer cloud. In spots, he found solid ground, permanently built up from the bottom of the river. These permanent islands held profane temples, full of blood and pentagrams, or walled areas suitable for staging troops. A named Strangler attacked, but the hammers killed it and its minions very quickly. Thaddeus was growing troubled, though; on his next trip back to the Pandemonium Fortress, he confided in Cain.

"Cain... have you had any luck talking with Halbu or Jamella?"

"No, I'm afraid. Though I have spent many an hour with Tyrael. He has been kind enough to answer many questions, so long as I remember what not to ask. The ways of Heaven will always be a mystery for me, I fear, while I am in this world." Cain looked around. "Well, not THIS world, but... oh, you know what I mean."

"Yes," Thaddeus smiled. "I find it difficult to speak with Tyrael."

"We both noticed that. You're not shy about praising him."

"He is worthy of great praise. But an angel is not someone you just... chat with."

"Oh, no," Cain shook his head. "It is difficult to feel comfortable around angels, and those who have joined them."

Thaddeus nodded. "The only others I have spoken to are the condemned. Perhaps they are more accessible, but I don't want to speak with them any more."

Cain chuckled. "Not your sort of people?"

"Sometimes they are. In the River of Flame, I recognized one of my teachers."

"Oh! That must have been a shock."

After a moment's thought, Thaddeus shook his head. "No, it wasn't. Sister Ermeda was a nun from my seminary, always ready with ruler or rod. She strongly believed that physical pain was the best way to impart virtue. Her memory for insults was long, even the ones she only imagined, and she had no forgiveness in her. I have no good memories of her... and I hate myself for standing here judging her, saying her fate does not surprise me."

Cain nodded slowly. "You cannot help using your own judgment, especially for someone you know so well..."

"No, no. Everyone judges those around them, that happens constantly. But I have been thinking about judging others, and the things that happened in Kurast."

"What do you mean?"

"This may not be right... it is only an idea... but I think the Hand of Zakarum was deceived because they were encouraged to judge others, but only see the bad things in them. It is easier to see the bad, particularly if you seek it out. The church became a sort of negative church, for whom evil was infinitely more real than good."

Cain nodded. "No one would contest that, I believe."

"By encouraging them to see only the bad in others, to judge, and act on that judgment, Mephisto infected the church with hate, and the rest of the world responded in kind. The pillars of the church should be faith, hope, and love. I told Asheara that, and I'm starting to see the true meaning of it myself."

Glancing over, Cain noticed that Tyrael seemed to be listening. "Go on, please."

"My faith has taken a terrible battering on this journey. At times, I felt lost. Hope nearly abandoned me once I began to see the design of the Prime Evils' web of deception. And as far as love goes... most of what I've done, I did out of duty, not a love of humanity. Love? I don't even like most of the people I've met."

"Well... just because you don't like someone doesn't mean you dislike all of humanity..."

"No, Cain," Thaddeus shook his head. "Love should not be that abstract. What good is it to say you love humanity, but don't like humans? One wag once said, 'I love humanity! It's people I can't stand,' but that's not a good way to think."

Cain chuckled. "Instead of loving humanity, try treating your friends a bit better."

"That is a beginning," Thaddeus smiled. "But how to treat them well? Sometimes, they do wrong. If I say nothing, they take it as tacit approval. If I speak out against it, I seem like a moralistic busybody. I ask you, Cain: is there anyone more odious than those who torment us for our own good?"

Chuckling, Cain shook his head.

Thaddeus grinned. "I've gotten off track. Of the three things, faith, hope, and love, the greatest is love. I'm not going to learn to love humanity from the condemned in Hell; they excite pity, but if anything seem to be souring me on the rest of humanity."

"I suppose they are not examples of the best in human nature," Cain mused.

"They're self-interested, violent, manipulative, proud, hateful whiners."

Cain patted Thaddeus on the shoulder. "And yet, you can pity them. Many would respond with hate and contempt. Tell me, how did your sister Ermeda react to you?"

"I'm not sure if enough remained of her mind for her to recognize me. In her present place, mindlessness may be a blessing."

"Even now, your thoughts towards her are merciful. Let me try a small exercise with you, one that I was given in my long-distant youth."

"A lesson?" Thaddeus asked.

"Yes. Do you remember the Rogue's encampment?"

"Yes, very well."

"Find something good to say about... Kashya."

"She kept her head when all about her were losing theirs, and had the courage to retreat when it would save lives, even at the cost of her own honor."

"Very good. Now say something good about Gheed."

Thaddeus paused, thinking. "He lusts for gold and drives a hard bargain, but you get what you pay for. His wares are not false."

"Interesting. Now, something about Geglash."

Thaddeus smiled. "He's a very funny fellow. In times of trouble, we need funny fellows to keep our spirits up."

"How about Elzix?"

"Another funny fellow, who will not betray a confidence or hold a grudge. My possessions were safe in his hands. Or, hand."

Cain chuckled. "I don't believe you dislike humanity at all. Now a hard one: Asheara."

After taking a deep breath, Thaddeus thought. And thought. And thought. Finally, he looked up. "She's got a really nice set of knockers."

"Ahem!" Cain stammered, "I suppose that's true..."

"No, really! She is hot, she sizzles, I freely admit it. If she were less... I mean, if she had more of a... if she were a completely different person from what she is, I'd like her a lot."

"You don't need to convince me. It seems to me you have no difficulty seeing the good in others... perhaps your trouble lies in expressing yourself."

Thaddeus rolled his eyes. "Stop preaching?"

"You never started, my boy. I think you need to relax a bit, and share your thoughts with others more often. Why, I don't think any of those people know you think so well of them."

Thaddeus hung his head. "I admit, I am a bit reticent. And perhaps too serious."

"And spending far too much time talking about it," Cain said. "Meditate on this, but not for long; not while Diablo still roams free in Hell."

"Ah! How long was I standing here, wasting time? Forgive me, I must go."

After Thaddeus ran off, Tyrael said, "He is still very much attached to the earth, and misses the company of those like himself."

Cain raised an eyebrow. "How could it be otherwise?"

"True. Few so young can separate themselves from worldliness. Soon, he will be able to return to your world, and perhaps take some lessons with him from Hell."

"If he survives. That is in question."

"Of course. If he survives."

Pushing further along the river, Thaddeus soon found a huge floating island. The rhythmic pounding of metal could be heard over the river's roar. Approaching cautiously, Thaddeus slowly made his way through crowds of Hell-spawned larvae until the Hellforge came into sight. Working at the forge was a huge, fat demon, its features a distorted mockery of an angel's beauty. From what he knew, this was Hephasto, a warrior of Heaven who fell from grace. The Prime Evils twisted his body and soul, shaping him into something more suitable to their purposes. All enemies who came near him lost their resistance to Hell's heat, even other demons. As his hammer was always white hot from the Hellforge, this made combat with him particularly dangerous.

After disposing of one last Flesh Mother, Thaddeus ran away, feigning injury. The armorer followed, giggling and drooling in anticipation. When he'd reached a safe distance, Thaddeus took up his maul and charged, battering him back to the edge of his island. Stunned by the powerful blows, Hephasto stood there helplessly; with nothing to distract him, Thaddeus could pound away at the fallen angel with impunity. After he fell, Thaddeus took his hammer (cooled by now) and a few other items back to the Hellforge. Hephasto was making great demonblades, each infused with a damned soul.

"help us! no! please, make it stop!" voices wailed from the pile of weapons.

I wonder if Izual knows the fate of his predecessor? Thaddeus mused. "You there, in those blades. I can offer you nothing but quick destruction."

"help us! please!" they continued.

"You are lost, I fear. I can offer you nothing but death."

They all went silent. Except one. "i don't understand! i did nothing wrong!"

Sighing, Thaddeus asked, "What did you do that was right?"

"my life was virtuous!" the thin voice whimpered. "i followed every word of the sacred texts to the letter! i don't deserve to be here! help me!"

The wailing began again. Being trapped in those poison-infused blades must be sheer agony for naked souls. "I know nothing of your lives, or how you came to be here. The only thing I can give you is an end to your suffering."

"i couldn't save the world... i was just one man," the voice said. "all i could do was save myself from the world..."

Thaddeus nodded sadly. "Does that seem selfish, now that you look back on it?"

There was a silence, and some of them began sobbing. "yes. it was," a voice said.

"I fear it was. And now, there is only one mercy I can offer you."

One tiny voice said, "thank you. i am ready."

Thaddeus broke each blade on the Hellforge, pounding them to shards with the armorer's mighty hammer. Sometimes, wisps of soul would float away and dissipate in Hell's feverish air. A few times, an intact soul floated away, up into the sky. What caused this, Thaddeus wondered? Maybe there was hope for redemption after all, even in Hell itself. After he had broken everything Hephasto had made, Thaddeus took out Mephisto's soulstone and sat it on the Hellforge.

"Lord of Hell, most contemptible of all the infernal forces, I hope I see the last of you here. I know that you have succeeded in bringing great suffering to the world, and this will be no more than a temporary inconvenience for you. You have destroyed a church with hate. You have not destroyed faith. Even knowing you will return, we will rebuild, for we have not lost hope. And nothing you do, nothing at all, will touch the love we bear for each other. All the hate, destruction, and terror you unleash will amount to nothing in the end."

Taking up the hammer, Thaddeus grinned despite himself. This was going to feel damn good. Mephisto's soulstone shattered into a million pieces, and dozens of trapped souls floated up and away from the forge. Feeling very satisfied, Thaddeus left the hammer there. It would be tempting to try to destroy the forge, but not yet. He still needed it for Diablo.