Author's Note: I can't make any excuses as to why this hasn't been updated. I just sort of fell off the face of the planet of writing. I haven't really written anything other than poetry lately. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the update. I am open to requests as to which character to write next, so long as they haven't already had their own chapter!

Sollux

An intense feeling of destruction and despair clouded over the Grand Sorcerer of Torment as he was escorted through the forests of the Queen of Eights's land. The woodland was a maze of sorts; trees ticker than any built structure reached for the sky, thought the tops would never be seen by anyone looking up for them for a thick mist covered the sky overhead. Roots sprawled from the underworld and onto the earth, and if you waited patiently enough, you may catch one moving. The only life in the area were that of hellwolves and swamp rats.

Upon reaching the castle, the guides humbly bid Sollux farewell. They apologized that his carriage, and his men, had to be left behind. In a way he was glad. The terrain was treacherous out here and his men would have only slowed the journey. Still, he felt as if he knew better than to venture upon such cursed territory alone. However, he was confident in his mystical abilities and had not feared a single soul in centuries. Queen Serket, despite her array of terrifying abilities, was no match for such a wizard as he.

The gates opened for him and palace guards lead him inside. They bowed in respect, one even mentioning having heard tales of Sollux's great adventures. Such a young lad for an elf, only a century old. However, he knew why Vriska had enlisted him. He was thicker built for their kind, equipped with muscles, talent, and his ability was an oddity; he was able to cover his body in self-produced flames without harm coming to him. Although the lad was a good warrior, he was friendly enough, and Sollux hoped dearly that one day he would realize he was fighting on the wrong side of the war.

Abandoned yet again, Sollux Captor strode down the grand hallway and to the door leading to the throne room. He thought it odd that no guards had been posted out front but he recalled Vriska's confidence. Cockiness would be her downfall. He reached for the knob but stopped. The magic within him was stirring, pulsating, whispering, screaming. It roared within his body as the sea does on a stormy midnight. And he felt it. He felt the magic pulling, telling him the outcome of the next few minutes. The voices of the tormented, the soon to be dead, eachoed inside his mind. The sweet voice of the next to die hung in the air.

He took the knob, tugged, and entered the mirrored throne room. Three figures in the distance turned to face him; a face of arrogance, a set of wicked eyes, and a countenance bearing simply sorrow in its purest form. He stood tall and walked the walk of kings; he did not miss a step and he focused his gaze on the queen, never once lowering his eyes, looking away, or blinking.

"Wizard," she greeted him, "How nice of you to join us."

"As if I had a choice, my queen," the mage cackled and bowed mockingly. Vriska narrowed her eyes but did nothing. She could not afford to anger someone who could offer her what she yearned for most, the rule of Alternia.

"Ah, not just a sorcerer but a jester as well. So funny," the queen exaggerated. The wizard shrugged.

"I understand that you have requested my services," he said, making light of the situation. The Queen simply nodded and stood from her throne and descended the stairs, nudging her male companion out of her way.

"Oh we will get to that, I assure. But first, let me introduce the two most important members of my court; Eridan Ampora, my designated heir to the throne, and Kanaya Maryam, the future bride of the Spider Queen," she glanced back at the frightened girl. She quickly flicked her eyes down at the mirrored floor. "Eridan, Kanaya, this is the greatest wizard of all Alternia, past, present, and future."

"I cannot allow such praise. I studied closely beneath the grandest of all magic-born, Zazzerpan the Learned and Wizardly Herbert. Do not dare place me above them."

"My apologies," the Spider Queen rolled her eyes. "Now, about that assistance."

"Before you request anything, your Majesty, let me warn you of some things. Firstly, my magic does not come without a price. Especially the variety that you may desire. Secondly, I reserve the right to decline to assist you," Sollux said, narrowing his eyes. He could see the queen's anger rising within her. "I am older than this land, my Queen. I have seen countless kingdoms raise and fall, only to pave the way for Alternia. It has been ruled by one lineage for as long as I have been alive to see this land blossom. I would hate to see it fall to ruin. I love only three things in this world: magic, Alternia, and a very beautiful woman."

"Oh how sweet of you, Captor." The queen's lips contorted into a smug smirk.

"Do not flatter yourself," he retorted. "Your only charm to me is the gleam of your coin."

"Then allow me to charm you," Vriska replied. "If you choose to assist me, that is."

"That will depend. What do you desire of my magic?"

"I require a spell, an incantation, an item -anything- that will put my kingdom with an offensive edge over Feferi's army."

The wizard sighed and turned away from the queen. He ran a hand through tousled hair and thought for a moment. He had feared this much. He knew that she'd ask something of the sort but he hoped that it might to bestow her with greater wisdom of conjure a few mythical beasts. Instead, she aimed to win the whole war with a flick of a wrist. Unfortunately for her, not even Sollux could do that. Not alone.

"Bad news, my queen. I cannot do such a thing."

"Why not, Wizard? Ability or loyalty?" The Queen of Eights growled.

"A little of both, I'm afraid. In the event of war, my loyalties lie with Queen Feferi. However, even if I wished to give you the power over her armies, I could not. To conjure that many soldiers to rival her troops is impossible, and even if I bestowed even the grandest of abilities to your armies now... It would never be enough. Further more, magic strictly will never allow true control over one's soul... Well..."

"Well what, oh magical one?"

"There may exist a powerful spell book with the legendary power to grant you complete influence over souls... This book is just an old wizard's bedtime tale, but as you can see, not everything is black and white. Some of the mythical things in our world have come to be true, like you, your Majesty."

Vriska raised a questioning eyebrow. Her white skin seemed to shimmer in the lowlight. "Me?"

"Yes, you. Your abilities... You do not think an ability to aquire rare and unseen abilities just when you need them is normal do you? No, my queen, you possess an ancient power known as the Luck of Old. It was rumored to be just a tale, but here you possess it. It is real, and perhaps this spell book may be real as well."

The Queen smirked. "Then tell me of it."

"It is called the Book of Eight, most ironically. Even if you do possess the spell book, it is one of eight items you need in order to cast the influence spell. Without these totems, the magic is completely mute."

"What kind of items?" The voice was new to the conversation. Sollux looked past the queen and to her lover, who was now stepping forward, seeming more interested. He nearly began to answer when he heard the hushed, hurried whisper of the soon to be dead. He smiled yet again.

"Some are living beings, some are objects. You will need the Book of Eight, a sword that wields the power of time, a Seer - someone who can see the future before it unfolds, a powerful Mage to harness the brunt of the incredible magic so that you may channel it through as a vessel. You will also need the magical presence of a Reviver, and the tranquility of the Void. Luckily, you already possess the Luck of Old, which is very necessary. Finally, you will need the lifeblood of a virgin."

Vriska grinned and curtseyed to the wizard. He did not respond. Another whisper echoed in his ears. He began to silently weep.

"Thank you, Captor, for all of your knowledge. I regret that you refuse to aid us..." The queen pouted, but the insincerity made the atmosphere in the room feel icy. "I do have one final question for you, and then you may go."

"And what would that be?"

"Who all knows of the Book of Eight? The Sea Queen?"

"Vriska, stop this," Kanaya warned. Her eyes had grown teary as well. "You don't need to do this. He is innocent."

"The legends of the book have been forgotten by time and everyone in the land. Only I know of it. Now, the legend is kept alive by the company of this room."

The wizard had heard Kanaya loud and clear. He knew that the queen was up to something. He'd known before he'd entered the room, when he'd heard a voice of the soon to be dead; his own voice. He had no time to think. No one said anything, but it happened in three seconds flat. Vriska's body contorted and conformed to a new shape as black spider's legs erupted from her back. On flung forward and impaled the powerful sorcerer through his stomach. He smiled once more, letting blood spill from his lips. Her arachnid appendage thrust out of him and he slide to the floor.

The queen giggled like a little girl. "Thank you for all you've done, Wizard."

But the wizard had closed his eyes and slumbed into a pile on the floor. He spoke nothing more, save one single word. And with that final word, a final breath had been let out. And with that breath, a soul older than the kingdom he loved dearly dissipated and moved on into the next realm. But that word was so quiet, yet so powerful, that it echoed in that throne room, and forever in the hearts of the three that remained standing.

"Aradia..."