It had been nearly two years since Merlin had first stepped foot underground, and in time that had passed his body and mind had hardened and sharpened as a knife’s edge. So when a wandering merchant told tale of Hell incarnate on their mortal plane, Merlin felt he was prepared enough to venture within.

The subterranean realm felt alive with energy. Merlin stood within the cavern, the walls jagged and blackened, scarred by centuries of volcanic activity. Glowing lava flows snake through the caverns, their incandescent orange and red hues casting eerie reflections that dance across the rock surfaces. Bubbling pools of lava become occasional fountains, sending bursts of molten rock high into the air, cooling into obsidian shards where it lands. 

The high, irregular ceilings crumble away in spots, allowing steam to escape in hissing plumes. Stalactites and stalagmites, formed from hardened minerals and dripping lava, interlocking where they meet, embracing like long-lost lovers. 

Coat drenched in sweat, Merlin found himself yearning for the unrelenting cold darkness of his previous escapades. This was a beast like no other, one he was not certain he could slay. Lovell, donned in custom leather armor- light enough to allow flight, but heavy enough to protect against initial blows-, sat upon his companion’s withers, eyes narrowed against the overwhelming light. 

“Are you ready for this?” 

Lovell hooted in confirmation, though he did not risk leaving Merlin’s side. The occasional spurts of lava reached heights of ten feet, and their unpredictability was enough that they could easily catch an owl, no matter their intelligence. 

“Alright.” 

As Merlin warily progressed, the heat swelled. The sweat that dripped from him evaporated instantly, and he grew increasingly uncomfortable. He was not entirely reassured that his hooves would not melt to the stone. 

The item of his desire soon loomed into view, and he sucked his teeth. A colossal face carved directly into the wall. Its eyes twin pools of flame, molten lava pouring down the sculpted face like fiery tears, and they pulsed with malevolent life. Its maw stretched in an eternal scream, meticulously shaped teeth bordering the entrance to its infernal throat. 

If the merchant was right, a cavern of riches welcomed those who passed through the cave guardian’s jaws. If the merchant was wrong, well, Merlin wouldn’t be alive to correct them. 

Lovell cooed, his feathers puffed despite the heat. The sooner they got this over with, the sooner they’d be done- one way or another. Hooves clicking on the molten rock, Merlin entered the maw. Flame sprites danced around him, beckoning him further, singing a song of infernal victory. Deeper and deeper he strode, walking freely through the throat of Hell itself.