Time for the kid villains ladies, gents and assorted individuals! And how to kick it off better than with my interpretation of the original kid villain, the Lord of Chaos himself…

The theory behind this is that although Roanoke went missing in the 1500's, it now exists out of time, so Klarion actually winds up on Earth at about AD 1000 because of the time travel vortex logic of the dimensional barrier around Roanoke distorting Teekl's spell. Or something.

Please review and tell me who you think the Council of Chaos are! Some are obvious, others not so much, but they're all outside the DC Universe.

I forgot to disclaim earlier…so consider this whole thing disclaimed.

In the beginning of the Multiverse, there was only Order and Chaos, and nothing else except the blackness of the Void. Two beings of pure energy, one gold and one red, swirling around each other and never touching, until one day they got slightly too lonely, reached out a tentative tendril towards one another and BOOM, there's your Universe, a perfect mix of Chaos and Order. Sure, then the Big Bang happened if you want to be fussy about it with all your 'Physics' terminology, but that's beside the point. Science had nothing to do with it. And if you say otherwise, an angry Lord of Chaos might hunt you down and punch you in the face. Because Klarion's just touchy like that.

He did have a right to be touchy though, he was the unlucky bastard that got infected with Chaos magic after all. Okay, well maybe not that unlucky, worse things could've happened. Like ending up with Order magic, yuck, how boring. At least he'd got an even better connection to Teekl and a permanent source of amusement out of the bargain. But still, being burned at the stake hadn't been a great experience.

It had all started in a dimension outside of regular time and space in a place named Roanoke, where a boy named Klarion and his weirdly intelligent cat known as Teekl once lived. The two were as close as two creatures of different species can get; where you found one, you'd inevitably find the other. They were inseparable, if Klarion was found at the library, Teekl would be curled up around his feet, if he was in bed, she would be asleep on his pillow, and if he was caught committing a heinous crime…well, she'd be right there next to him.

But in the strict Puritan community of Roanoke rumours of magic could be deadly, and true rumours were doubly so. People whispered that Klarion, with his wilful ways, constant questions about the outlawed arts and that weird cat that always hung around him, was definitely up to something suspect. Something wrong. Something forbidden.

And so what if they were right? What, like you're surprised Klarion was messing around with forbidden magic, we're talking about Klarion the Witchboy, soon to be Lord of Chaos, after all. Sure, he wasn't up to the level of a Lord of Chaos just yet, but like he was going to squander his natural magical talents just because it was 'bad'.

Newsflash: Klarion wasn't exactly a disciple of morals. His mild dislike of doing as he was told would become a near pathological hatred later for obvious reasons, but whichever way you have it, Klarion was teaching himself sorcery.

One problem: fanatical Puritans + rebellious magical kid = execution.

Only Klarion didn't quite realise that. Well, he had enough common sense to realise that flaunting his talents wouldn't end well for him, but he was just as naïve and sheltered as any other pre-teen with ridiculously religious parents who was completely cut off from any other way of life. Except most other kids weren't separated from the rest of the human race by a whirling dimensional vortex. Eh, semantics.

Everyday after prayers it was well known by every citizen of Roanoke that Klarion and his infernal cat would disappear for an hour or two, and no-one, no matter how hard they tried, could find them anywhere. Once or twice the frightened citizens got together to try and hunt down the duo and finally prove they were up to something forbidden, but they could never find them until they wanted to be found. Because as a cat, Teekl had mastered the art of hiding in impossible-to-find hiding places, and as a mischief-maker, Klarion had learnt to just go with it. Also, because Teekl was an awesome cat, but mainly because she got pissy if he didn't listen to her. Whatever, you get the idea. They were masters of hiding. And not doing as they were told. And scaring people. And magic. (Klarion was just a little big-headed).

So for years and years Klarion hid out in the forest and the bottom of the old clock tower and the hidden room behind the church, and practiced his sorcery with Teekl curled over his shoulders as a purring ginger scarf. There were accidents – he burnt his eyebrows off, melted the church's bell and exploded at least three trees (getting drenched in molten sap is not fun), but he always managed to pull off his mistakes as sheer coincidental accidents. These 'accidents' didn't help his neighbours trust him though; everyone in the town whispered about him behind his back and often to his face. People spitting at his feet wasn't uncommon, and neither was Klarion's answering remark of 'one day you might actually hit my feet'.

Oh yes, Klarion was suspected of every crime under the…well, not sun…demonic purple sky perhaps would be more accurate. The pastor glared at him, the other children shied away, and the adults tried their very best to provoke him into revealing himself. He wasn't quite that stupid though. Not quite.

Honestly, he genuinely thought he'd never get caught.

Y'know, until he did.

On the morning of his thirteenth birthday he woke up with a pounding headache from being hit over the head, and realised he was tied to a stake, biting ropes cutting into his body on all sides and the wooden post standing firm against his back. A sea of faces looked up at him, all dressed in their Sunday best as if going to church.

Or a funeral.

Some people were smiling gleefully, others were watching him with narrow, suspicious eyes. No-one looked even a tad sympathetic.

The sound that had woken him started up again: the plaintive yowls of a cat. Straining against his bonds Klarion looked to his left and saw Teekl, equally tied up and very, very angry. Her ginger fur was puffed up, her extended claws were gleaming under the swirling purple sky and her green eyes glinted with loathing.

Klarion's mother stepped out from the crowd, her hair scraped back, her pinafore spotless and her expression utterly blank as she looked up at her only son tied to a stake. "Mother." The word fell as a whisper from Klarion's lips almost without his permission, spilling through the silent air. While his relationship with his fiercely religious mother might have been…tenuous at best, he still hadn't expected this.

She took a slow step forward, the eyes of every citizen of Roanoke focused on her and her son. "You are not my son." Her 'not son' then. Whatever. Klarion didn't flinch, he was perfectly aware his mother thought he brought shame on the family. Which he did. Teenage rebellion is universal, even if Klarion was only just thirteen; a little boy with dark brown eyes, messy black hair, high cheekbones, ivory skin and an adorable little black and white suit. The only thing that set him apart from his peers physically was the intelligence that burned in his eyes and his penchant for wicked smirks. He was really just a little kid.

Who was about to be burnt at the stake.

Panic started to fill his chest as his mother took another step forward and held up a flaming torch in one pale hand. "You haven't been my son for years, and the whole church knows it. Pastor Judah has decreed that the Lord has spoken unto him, and He revealed that a demon has been possessing you for years. You have been found guilty of possessing an innocent boy, Demon, and desecrating these sacred lands of Our Lord with your presence. Your sentence is death, and you are not permitted to speak."

Klarion reached for his magic. He frowned, and reached again. And again. Nothing happened. He started to panic in earnest, eyes widening frantically as he pulled against the ropes and hunted desperately for just a single spark of magic. This couldn't be happening, there was only one piece of consecrated land in town and he hadn't thought anyone else had known about it…from the dire looks of his situation, they obviously did. And his magic didn't work on consecrated land. Which meant he couldn't escape.

Which meant he was going to die.

"W-wait, I haven't-"

"Silence demon." his mother snarled, and then thrust her torch into the wood at his feet, eyes gleaming with a mutated sort of pride. "BURN!"

Klarion truly started to panic as the wood began to smoke, flames starting to curl up from under the wood, reaching upwards to wrap around his shoes. It wasn't hurting, not yet, but he could feel the encroaching heat. Teekl howled at him, hissing and spitting as she threw her weight about in a futile attempt to shake herself free, green eyes reflecting the fire that had sparked her terror. Klarion made a pointless attempt to grab at his magic, and started to struggle in earnest, trying to knock the stake over or even just displace the wood surrounding him.

"BURN!" The villagers all around him took up his mother's chant, the word a demonic roar above the crackling of fire.

Tears leaked out of his eyes as the smoke forced its way into his skull, burning a path straight through his eyes. The tears ran freely and fell from his face with a 'hiss' as they hit the fire, Klarion's shoes starting to melt off his feet, the boiling rubber forcing a scream from his lips as it seared into his skin. His feet oh Lord his feet they were burning and blistering and white hot agony was consuming his mind he couldn't take this-

"BURN!"

His trousers caught fire and went up in flames in a split second, the poor quality material disappearing in a burst of sparks only to be replaced with flames that ate into his legs like a pack of animals. There was no holding in his agonised screams, the sounds intermixed with futile pleading and the frantic screaming of spells as children danced around and laughed as if watching an amusing spectacle.

"BURN!"

The flames were up to his waist now, shredding through his nerve endings and ripping inhuman noises from his throat. He couldn't feel his feet anymore, couldn't even see them through the hellish flames, which he would've probably been glad for if he had any thought in the majority of his brain other than painhurthelpescapepainpainpain. He couldn't breath, the smoke rising up from the wood was filling his airways and he was starting to hope in some far corner of his mind that he'd die of asphyxiation because this was to much this was unbearable he couldn't stand it the flames were reaching higher and while he didn't believe in any higher power he was praying for this to end-

"BURN!"

It was Teekl that snapped him out of his half-unconscious-from-pain state, his eyes glassy and his expression becoming calmer by the second as his body started to shut down from the overwhelming pain. His cat was in agony, the flames beginning to wrap around her tail and burning away her gorgeous fur, her green eyes wide and filled with pure terror, frantically looking over at him with a beseeching mewl that was clearly begging for his help and believing that he could actually give it.

"BURN!"

That was the final straw.

They could hurt Klarion himself. Hell, he'd spent most of his life forced into the role of the victim, unable to use his magic to defend himself but feared and loathed all the same. He'd had his fair share of broken bones, and to be perfectly honest he'd known deep, deep down he wouldn't avoid the stake forever.

They could take away his magic, binding him on consecrated ground. His magic was a fundamental part of him, it felt as though someone had ripped out his soul or a couple of vital organs. I bet you wouldn't like losing a few vital organs, would you? But not using it nearly all of his life out of fear had made Klarion largely immune to that feeling.

But. They. Would. Not. Touch. Teekl.

Something deep down inside him snapped.

Klarion's mind cleared completely and utterly, his focus sharpening as the pain fell back to a secondary concern and his whimpering disappearing from the air in a second. The chanting filling the town square petered off abruptly at the sudden lack of noise, Roanoke's citizens exchanging terrified glances. It was obvious to everyone that Klarion wasn't dead yet, which made his lack of screaming very, very worrying. It was obvious because one, he was glaring at them all with flaming red eyes, and two, he was ripping through his bindings with inhuman strength and floating upwards into the air above them. Talk about turning the tables.

Klarion grinned wickedly as Teekl rose up into the air beside him, both members of the duo wreathed in blazing magical flames that sent demented shadows over the ground and healed both their sets of horrific wounds. Klarion watched his legs reform before his eyes with more magic flowing through his system than he had ever thought possible, more magic than he had used in his entire life spilling into his brain all at once. It was glorious.

It was Chaos.

Blurred figures flickered through Klarion's mind's eye, each one silhouetted by a different coloured flame. Green, blue, purple, gold, white; all five colours spoke of immense magical potential so large that Klarion almost disintegrated under the strain of processing it, until his own red fire blazed even higher and he realised that his own power was now so great that no-one would ever, could ever overpower him again. He waved cheekily at the glowing figures, and at least two of the figures laughed at him in delight. "Welcome to the Council of Chaos," purred the central figure, blowing him a kiss that sparked with blue energy, "you will enjoy your stay. When whatever trauma you're currently suffering that caused you to unlock your potential is over, and you've utterly destroyed your enemies, we expect you at the next meeting. Feel free to be late." The voice disappeared along with the fire-ringed figures, and Klarion felt a small sense of loss, a strange, almost itchy hole in his head that seemed to gape and grow with every passing second until…

I don't like flying.

If Klarion wasn't so saturated with magic that he could barely breathe, he would've shouted in surprise. Cats aren't supposed to talk after all. Especially not telepathically. "Teekl?!"

Yes Klarion?

"You can…? Never mind, you can obviously talk. Um…how?"

Magic is a wonderful thing Klarion.

"So what you're saying is that you don't know. And stop saying my name like it's an insult!"

It practically is one. Ah, communicating with you is so refreshing, I can actually tell you what an idiot you are.

The terrified silence was broken by a single, piercing wail, a baby screaming in its frozen mother's arms. It was as if a spell had been broken; the square beneath Klarion's feet immediately filled with screaming and crying and people dashing frantically in all directions.

They tried to kill us Klarion. Shouldn't we return the favour? That's what the Council person voice thingy told us to do. Teekl sounded slightly disgruntled at not knowing who this so-called 'Council of Chaos' were, or why they dared to turn up unannounced in their brand new shared telepathic bond. Okay, so she was feeling possessive, are you going to argue with the superpowered magical cat who was protecting her kitten? Because I wouldn't if I was you.

"Pfft, and we listen to some random voice in our heads now? Have I ever done what I'm told? The hell I have, and I'm not planning to start now. I'm a Lord of Chaos Teekl, I'm not wasting my potential on these small-minded morons, I want to do something fun." Klarion's eyes blazed red and his appearance began to change without his knowledge or his permission. Childlike features melted and then sharpened: his face thinned dramatically, his eyes turned jet black and his messy hair flattened and turned into two horns. It would be many years later when he made the conscious decision to change his voice into the high pitch drawl we all love to loath in the modern day, though to be fair it had started off as a joke and had accidentally stuck. Teekl underwent a slightly less dramatic change, her eyes turning blood red and her stripes warping into ancient Chaotic runes, but her sharp intelligence and chaotic nature had already been present long before any link to Chaos itself.

Shall we go somewhere a little more…interesting then?

"I've never been outside Roanoke, I don't know how to go anywhere else but here."

I do. I can teleport.

"You can teleport?"

Teekl rolled her eyes. Of course I can teleport Klarion, I'm a cat. All cats can teleport. Duh.

"Right." Klarion responded firmly, as if he knew that all along. Teekl barely contained the urge to roll her eyes, but did so for the sake of their burgeoning attempts at communication. "Shall we, um, go then?"

You are such a moron.

"Ah shuddup you stupid cat." Klarion realised he'd hit the mark when Teekl's ears flattened to her skull and her lips pulled back in a snarl.

Don't call me that.

Klarion grinned, the expression looking suddenly dangerous on his new face. "I think I'm going to enjoy calling you that."

I think you are not. But Teekl knew a losing battle when she saw one, and from her new vantage point she could also see the townsfolk running from house to house, gathering pitchforks and lighting torches and riling each other up, and as powerful as they now were, Teekl wanted to keep her kitten safe and out of the fight.

A very offended Klarion floated towards her in a faux menacing manner. "What did you just call me?"

Spotting a perfect opening for some petty revenge Teekl gave the cat equivalent of a chuckle as she concentrated on opening a portal to the mortal realm, feeding her newfound magic into her natural feline talents. If I'm a stupid cat, you're my kitten, because you're younger and infinitely more stupid.

The sight of Teekl's portal opening up knocked Klarion's pithy response right out of him. "That, is infinitely more cool than Bible studies."

Teekl preened. Well it wasn't easy making it big enough for your giant butt, but this is your probably-one-way ticket to Planet Earth. She looked at her partner-in-crime's face to check for any sign of hesitation about leaving the only home he'd ever known, but the only thing present was glee and excitement as the swirling red portal reflected its light back into Klarion's black eyes.

"C'mon then, what're we waiting for?" And without waiting for an answer Klarion scooped Teekl out of the air and, cradling her safely in his arms, stepped straight into the portal, never to be seen in Roanoke again. Well, except that time he accidentally got himself banished back there.

Eh, semantics.

(*I*I*I*)

They arrived in the middle of a battle, knights dressed in gleaming armour on one side, swords drawn and battle cries dying in the dawn air, and on the other stood a lone woman, long black hair tumbling over an intricate forest green dress, lips as red as blood curved up into a sultry smirk as she raised one hand, which was glowing with ethereal purple light.

Klarion only just saw this though, and only with the help of Teekl's razor sharp vision, before his own magic accidentally blew the strange woman's out. Oops.

Teekl hissed wildly, the hair standing up all over her back as she skittered away from Klarion, green eyes wide with fright.

"What's w-wrong?" Even to himself Klarion's voice sounded like it was coming from miles underwater, distorted and warped beyond belief, a faint warble of strung together syllables that was barely audible. He held out a hand towards Teekl, only to watch it becoming more and more see-through by the second. Alarm crossed his face and he pulled at his magic, hoping to use it to hold himself together, but it seemed as though his magic was going straight through him, just like the light was. He didn't even cast a shadow.

You're fading. You're disappearing Klarion, you're flashing in out of existence I don't understand it's not happening to me it's never happened to me I come here all the time are you okay-?

"I feel…fine…just a little bit...floaty." Klarion features faded completely out of sight, the sorcerer little more than a glowing red outline and a faint voice on the wind.

Teekl didn't even think about it, which was odd for the cat, who was usually a lot more forward-thinking than her other half. Because dammit it all to the seventh circle of hell, if Klarion was disappearing out of the mortal realm to god-knows-where, she was damn well going with him.

The second she collided with the last embers of Klarion's form, the sorcerer reformed in a flash of red light, looking a lot paler than his ivory skin tone should've even allowed. Are you okay?

Klarion crouched down and scooped Teekl up into his arms, holding her close to his chest because he was scared (no he wasn't shut up, Klarion does not get scared…often) of losing himself and he was even more scared of losing her. Losing Teekl was the one thing he knew he'd never get over ever since she appeared in his life when he was just three years old. "Confused," he whispered into her ears, "but I have an idea. Didn't Pastor Judah use to go on and on about witches having familiars to do their evil work, familiars that were often cats? While looking specifically at us? Maybe that's actually a thing…huh. Anyway, are you okay?"

Your chest is hard, now my nose hurts from smashing into it. Remind me not to save you in future, especially by heroically jumping after you into the unknown. But I suggest you pay attention to the battle at hand, we can look up 'familiars' later. Knights aren't exactly known for their love of magicians.

Klarion turned his gaze back to the opposing sides of the battle, only to see the sorceress freeze her attempts at advancing towards him as he looked up, black eyes meeting green ones. Klarion smiled.

The woman, who was extraordinarily beautiful, even Klarion could see that, took a single cautious step towards him, her shock at having her magic banished by a child carefully erased from her features. She knew a powerful sorcerer when she saw one, and she definitely wasn't about to waste an opportunity to gain a useful ally by offending him. "Greetings stranger, I am Morgana Le Fey, soon to be Queen of Camelot, Lady Sorceress of Britain. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"Is your allegiance to Order or to Chaos?" There was something off about the woman's magic, something that made it difficult to read, something that spoke of restless souls and the dead returning under her command. Wow, okay that was weird. He had no idea where that information came from, but it seemed pretty damn useful. Chaos magic was getting better by the second. Teekl meowed in agreement.

"My allegiance is to myself, to my cause, and against King Arthur. Though," her green eyes sparkled wickedly as she held out on pale hand invitingly, "Arthur's pet sorcerer is a Lord of Order, if that's of any use to you. Goes by the name of Merlin."

Klarion and Teekl grinned at each other, two sets of eyes sparkling with identical mischief. "I'm Klarion, this is Teekl. Lord of Chaos, at your service."

Le Fey smiled brilliantly, and the knights on the other side of the field shifted hesitantly at her expression towards this new stranger. While they would hesitate to strike down a child, being the chivalrous Knights of the Round Table that they were (blergh, how pathetic), anyone who Morgana looked at like that meant serious bad news. Klarion's gaze zeroed in on the elderly man stood next to a young blond man wearing a crown and carrying a jewel-encrusted sword. The old man radiated even more power than the sword and Morgana Le Fey combined, the kind that was sickly and direct and Orderly. Plus, it was making Klarion's nose itch. Ew.

"I would much appreciate your aid, if you are willing to give it, or at least I would like to know what your purpose is here." The sorceress smiled seductively, but that was utterly missed by Klarion. He was only thirteen after all, he didn't have time for a\ll that romance bullshit.

"I'm here to cause Chaos, and if this world isn't dead by the time I'm done," Klarion bared his teeth at Merlin across the field and waved cheekily, beginning an enmity that would last for nearly 100 years, "it will be damn well wishing it was."

Teekl rolled her eyes. I have a feeling this is going to be a long immortal life of clichés.

"Ah shuddup you stupid cat."

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