Four figures sat near the top of a grassy hill, hands intertwined as they stared up at the dark nighttime sky. On the outside of the linked group, a man and a woman gazed at the sky with matching smiles; on the inside, a pair of children looked at each other as much as the stars as they held hands, the girl identical in appearance to the boy save for her longer hair and rosier cheeks.

"It's so nice to be out in the country like this," the woman said, her voice disrupting the silence that had enveloped them.

The man murmured his assent, while the two children made undecided grunts in reply.

The woman faced the children. "You two will learn to appreciate nature one of these days. The suburbs aren't bad, but... it's still nice to get away once in a while."

The conversation ground to a halt after this statement for a long minute or two. The stars twinkled, their soft, faint light the only thing that broke through the darkness around them. Here, there were no glowing windows, no blazing campfires, and tonight, not even the light of the moon to illuminate their surroundings.

The girl was the next to speak up. "There are so many stars! There must be, like, a million billion kajillion of them up there!"

"Kajillion isn't a real number," the boy grumbled.

"Well, it should be a number. It's the best number."

"You can't see the stars like this back at home, can you?" The man's voice was deep and smooth. "All those electric lights drown them out. But out here, if you look closely, you can really see the constellations."

"Constellations? What are those?"

"Well." The man turned towards the children, grinning as he spoke. "Way back when, in ancient times, people stared up at the stars- just like we're doing now- and found patterns in them. And they gave those patterns names, and they called them constellations."

"Whoa..."

"Look up there." The man pointed. "Do you see that one?"

After a moment, the girl poked the boy on the forehead. "Looks like your dork mark!"

"Hey!" He broke his grip on the girl's hand and rubbed his forehead. "It is NOT a dork mark!"

"Is too. It means you're a giant dork."

"Kids..." The woman's voice was filled not with anger but with gentle amusement, but it got the children to quiet down just the same.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it? That one's called the Big Dipper."

The girl pointed at the boy, her finger only an inch away from touching the birthmark on his forehead. "Does that mean you're the little Dipper?"

"Actually, it's funny you mention the Little Dipper, because-"

"The tiny Dipper?"

The boy rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, I get it."

"The teeny weeny itsy bitsy-"

"Knock it off, Mabel!"

"Be nice, you two!" The woman's voice, though still calm, was louder and less gentle this time.

"Okay..." The two children replied in unison, but as the adults turned back towards the stars, the girl stuck her tongue out at the boy, and he made a face in return.

"And if you follow the top of it there-" The man mapped out a line with his hand to illustrate his point. "-it leads right to Polaris- that's the North Star. So that means as long as you can find the Big Dipper up there, you can find your way north. Neat, huh?"

"How do you know all this stuff?"

"Because I'm magic."

"Don't listen to him. Your father just reads too many books."

"Hey, you can never read enough books." The adults' eyes glistened as they looked at one another, and they broke into soft laughter after the man finished his retort.

"Sounds like somebody else I know."

The man's grin grew smaller and softer as he heard the girl's response.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," the boy said.

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

"One other thing you two might find neat. Look at the handle- not the star right at the end, but the one just before that. You see it?"

The children nodded.

"If you look really close, you'll see that there's another star right next to it." He gave them a moment to stare at the star in question, squinting and stretching so as to best view the brighter star's companion. "The really bright one there is Mizar, and the other one is Alcor. They're called the Twin Stars. Just like you guys." He used his free hand to ruffle each of the children's hair in turn, eliciting a series of grins and half-hearted groans.

"There's a whole world of stories up there, if you just know how to look. Never forget that."

Years passed. The boy and the girl were out in the country once more, but they were alone in an attic with only a small window to provide a view of the stars, their parents now far away both in body and in mind. The two still looked strikingly similar, and both had grown considerably over the years, but the boy now had claws and fangs and wings that made it impossible to mistake him for his sister even at a glance. He sat on the floor, crouching over his crossed legs and staring at the floor, while she stood over him.

"So." The girl's long hair fell in her face as she looked down at her brother. "I think what we've learned today is you need a super-awesome demon name."

The boy buried his face in his hands. "That is not at all what we've learned today and you know it."

"It is one of the things we've learned."

"Maybe the least important one."

"Whatever. We still need to come with a cooler name for you."

He removed his hands from his face and glared up at his sister. "Dipper is totally a cool name!"

She threw her hands up in the air. "I didn't say it wasn't! But it's not very... demon-y."

"Demonic. Demonic is the word you're looking for."

"Like I said. Demon-y."

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Fine. Do you have a name all figured out, then, Mabel, if you're so big on this?"

"What about Destructor?"

Dipper snorted.

"That's totally a demon-y name, right?"

He pinched the bridge of his nove. "I am not calling myself Destructor."

"Okay, okay. What about Dave? 'All hail the great and powerful demon Dave!' Nah, doesn't have the right ring to it..."

He sighed before speaking. "Are you even trying?"

"Nope!" The girl grinned widely as she proudly replied. "That one's on you, bro-bro." She leaned down and ruffled her brother's hair, making him groan.

Dipper closed his eyes, tuning out Mabel's suggestions of "Spartacus" and "Steve" and "Slagathor". Even though it really shouldn't be the most pressing issue, she was right, he did need a more demon-y name. One that he could identify as, but couldn't be identified by. One that sounded more demon than human, but didn't make promises that he couldn't, or wouldn't, back up.

And, above all, one that was not like Bill's.

His thoughts drifted from place to place, coming up with several possibilities and swiftly discounting them, before settling on a night from years ago, years that felt like eons (or so he then thought, before he knew better, before he learned the true weight of passing eons), from back when the world had seemed calm and beautiful and right, when it felt like nothing could hurt him, like nothing ever would.

The night had bestowed upon him one name already, one that he happily clung to from then on, one that he cared for much more than the one that his parents had bestowed upon him at birth. Why not build off that moment once more?

"I've got an idea."

Though his voice was soft, it was enough to silence Mabel's current rambling. "Yeah?"

"What about Alcor. You know, the twin star?"

Mabel took a few seconds to process the statement before grinning. "More like the dork star."

He stood up and held up his clawed hands, his grin showing off his fangs. "Greetings, I am the almighty Alcor, the twin star-"

"-who sneezes like a kitten."

Dipper set his hands down at his sides and pouted. "I do not sneeze like a kitten!"

"You totally do. And it's superty duperty wuperty adorable."

"No it- Mabel, wuperty isn't even a word!"

Mabel put her hands on her hips and stuck out her tongue. "Well, it should be. It's the best word."

As they continued their banter, Dipper still mulled over the implications of the name. Alcor, the twin star, part of the Big Dipper- that much was obvious. But more connections came to him, ones that he wasn't sure whether he'd read in a book somewhere or heard from his father or, like more things than he would care to think about, he now Just Knew. Alcor was also an ancient test of vision... and known as the forgotten one.

It would do, he decided. It was as good a name as any.

One demon-y problem down, then. Only, oh, a million billion kajillion left to go.