The Seat felt empty, echoing and hollow. The vast number of demons who cared for the ruling class and the guards who
protected us had fled, either to battle with the Planeless or in fear for themselves and their families. In their absence
came a feeling of great emptiness. I had no idea how much their presence influenced the solidity and stability of the
mountain until they were gone. So strange to me, this vacuum, where once I was surrounded by layers of demon power. The
sense of them, their demon souls, and the power they held had always been as familiar to me as the polished rock beneath
my feet.
The magic of the Seat itself remained, of course, and filled some of the void left behind. But the absence of the living,
breathing pulse of the mountain, the demons making up the day-to-day experience, no flow and ebb of life, stirred sadness
in me. It seemed more and more the ruling Seat of Demonicon emptied of the living, leaving me to a towering spire of