Welcome to Phantisamine.
Nicknamed the hottest place in Hell, it certainly lives up to it. A place where lava runs free on the dried, seemingly dead plains. All you can see from a glance are a sea of red and tall rocks, spewing volcanoes and an unwelcoming sight. Only demons who can withstand the ferocious heat could ever live here, and those who cannot would be burn to a crisp upon entering. No one is surprised when a roar of a volcano destroys the silence, coughing up the ash that blankets the sky and more of the flesh melting red liquid down below. The only plants that grow here are strange grey ones, thin and gnarly trees that grow shrunken fruits with an odd taste. Behind the two largest volcanoes towards the North is a demon city. Protected and hidden by the cloud of smoke from the guardian volcanoes, only natives can visit the city, with the exception of those who have knowledge of the place. Phantisamine is not for the faint of heart.
There are many types of demons living in Phantisamine, most controllers of burning fires and the steady earth. One such demon is a young - compared to other demons, anyway - fire demon named Phynex. The size of a horse and measuring monstrously long, he was a draconic beast. Covered in welts, earned from his childhood and first contact with lava, he was armed to the teeth. Spikes lined his back and tail, his talons were as sharp as knives, he has a strange mouth like organ at the end of his tail that could act as a second mouth, lined with small pin like teeth. His body seemed to be made out of rocks and lava itself, swirling around his body but clinging to his frame instead of dripping all over the place. His front legs - that also served as arms - were corded with hard muscle from fighting and training, and although his hind legs were much shorter, they were powerful enough to let him run great speeds. He had no eyes, but he could see in another way as if he did. Wings sprouted from his back, also lined with spikes and powerful muscle. They looked like ripped cloth, holes dotted everywhere, but it was stable enough to let him fly.
Phynex didn't truly know who he was. He knew he was born to a high-tier demon who mated with a middle-tier demon, but being almost five hundred years old, Phynex couldn't remember their faces well. Most demons lived long, but his were dead. They must have done something to anger the older demons. He recalled them just...disappearing from his life. Only when he grew up did he learn that they had been locked away from Phantisamine and never allowed to return home. Why? He didn't know. He asked, but who would give an answer? Phynex managed to survive in the land of fire, eating the wild fruits and making barely any money to live a simple life in the city by taking jobs. As he grew, he decided to go travelling. It was rare for demons in Phantisamine to leave their own land, but the demon wanted to see everything. The fire demon stood in front of the castle of Satan himself, been at the edge of Tartarus and heard the howls of the old ones below.
He returned when he was four hundred, alone and tired. Along his journey he kept to himself, he had no companions. He didn't know how to make them. The fire demon was awkward, having no experience with such a thing. Phynex had relationships with demonesses, yes, but friends? That wasn't a word he knew the true meaning of.
Today, after picking a few of the fruits that grew in this hellhole, he had decided to rest in one of the dug out pits. Filled to the brim with lava, he had stepped in to bathe himself. To other non-fire demons the pits were dangerous and could easily take lives, but to him it was relieving and refreshing, ease tenseness in his body and a good type of therapy. Lazily he ate the fruit, relaxing in the lava pit.