Storybook - Acetlar and Heimdal the Fool

Fairy Tale Collection Volume 2

The Romance of Acetlar and Heimdal

Forward

Asmodian children are taught by storytelling alone. They learn to hate us, to revile our "deformed" bodies, and to kill Elyos in order to provide for their families and to garner fame and glory.

Where we sow philosophy and life, Asmodians seek death and blood--especially our blood. This story makes an interesting tale and also an important teaching tool.

We print this for one purpose: to make you think. Please discuss this Asmodian tale with your friends.

The Romance of Heimdal and Acetlar

Anwynson, a young Asmodian Archon, groaned. It wasn't fair! He'd just gotten back from scalping Elyos children and earning a promotion through the destruction of his best friend's career.

He deserved a break! But no. Ulgorn wanted him to talk to some old guy in some tiny village where there were no Daevas, no fighting, and not even wild animals. Just a bunch of trogs and a giant castle...which was where the old guy lived.

But he went where commanded...for now.

"Hey, old guy!" Anwynson yelled over the walls of the castle. And how sun-addled did you have to be to put a castle in the middle of interior farmland? "You in?"

ARCHON AUDITOR'S PRELIMINARY REPORT - DAY ONE

Don't call Daevas "old guy". In my defence, I didn't know he was a Daeva before he opened the door.

When the Balefire died down and we'd bonded over some roast Elyos he was putting on for dinner, the old guy got to the point. His daughter was missing. Sort of.

The daughter, Actelar, had run off with some local knuckle-dragger and now lived about twenty seconds' flight from the castle. I told him he should just go out and get her! The problem with that, he said, was that she'd just run away again.

This...this was not a simple missing persons case for me to deal with before joining up with the legion, Ulgorn. You're a twiggy, glow-worm liar! And I'll get you for this when I'm back in Pandaemonium!

So Anwynson went out into the village to find this Acetlar and talk some sense into her. He'd heard of her, of course.

Acetlar the Weeper.

Before the family had packed up and left Pandaemonium, she'd been regarded as a great beauty, regardless of the fact that partly-sunny weather could reduce her to tears. Dark of hairy mane, with sharp claws on her hands and glowing eyes tailor-made for the gloom, no Asmodian could ask for anything more.

Of course, no one had bothered to mention to Anwynson that he'd be able to find her not thanks to her beauty, but thanks to her wings. She would be the only Daeva in the village.

ARCHON AUDITOR'S SEARCH AND INTERVIEW LOG - DAY FIFTEEN

Sick of talking with sun-poxed roaches. Today, found clawless dullard gathering grass in field. Roughed him up a bit, loosen his tongue. Waited till he regained consciousness to ask questions.

ARCHON: Acetlar?

PEON: Prettiest thing I've ever seen. Beautiful scarring around her eyes. -- AUDITOR'S NOTE: Scars likely from crying and clawing.

Left dimwit to his grasses. Would rather be executing the treasonous, drinking Elyos blood, making time with camp-followers. Hate you for giving me this mission, Ulgorn, with all the darkness in my soul.

Anwynson finally found Acetlar the next evening...in the hut belonging to the grass-collecting dullard. The idiot's name was Heimdal, and he lived with his mother and his new Daeva wife. Anwynson didn't think the Daeva's father would be pleased to hear about this!

Other than the wings and her great beauty, little could differentiate Acetlar from a villager. She'd sold all of her jewels and finery and lived like any Kinah-less trog.

Her moneys had gone towards Aether Crystals that were scattered throughout the house. The remainder had paid to take her husband on trips to sacred places where some Asmodian ascensions had been reported.

ARCHON AUDITOR'S SEARCH AND INTERVIEW LOG - DAY SIXTEEN

ARCHON: Left home. Father upset. For this guy?

ACETLAR: Dad hates him. Its perfect. I plan to make him a Daeva.

ARCHON: Good luck with sun-poxed plan. How's it going?

ACETLAR: No joy yet. Next plan--loose scary animal in grass field. Maybe fear will push ascension?

Anwynson returned to the family's mansion to report his findings, and Acetlar's father begged him to try to make his little girl come home. Nothing for it, Anwynson went back to the village, but not before poisoning the food at the castle. If the old guy were dead, he'd be released from this farce of an "investigation".

Back in Heimdal's hut the next day, Anwynson found Acetlar feeding her husband a potion. Having taken Anwynson's sardonic advice seriously, she'd sought out a hedge-witch of dubious repute and no mane. The hedgewitch had provided a potion that smelled truly rank.

Night after night, Anwynson checked in. And night after night, Heimdal drank the potion, stars of besotted love in his eyes.

Then one night, post-potion, Heimdal ascended.