Bane, the Demon Lord, made into a mortal god before he was stolen from his mother's womb by the Black Lord ...
The inner fire threw red light onto the tortured stone ceiling from the cracks that crazed the floor. The magma river that flowed under the cavern heated it to an unbearable temperature, but Bane was the only one who sweated. It was not true that the scars were self inflicted. On his sixteenth birthday, the runes had been cut into him by his father. Bane had been chained to a bulbous rock column, his arms spread.
The Black Lord stood before him and warned him not to cry out. "Only cowards feel pain, boy. You will learn to enjoy this, and do it to yourself. It gives power. Blood must flow, and yours is the most powerful blood of all."
Bane panted harshly as his father cut the runes, and the Black Lord did it with exquisite slowness, enjoying every moment of his son's pain. Bane did not cry out, grinding his teeth as the sweat rolled down his face. After that, he had been made to do it himself, and although he not learned to enjoy it, he did learn to bear it.