Author's Notes: And just like that, I bringeth another chapter for your enjoyment. This one finishes up the flashback of how Xanthus and Valara became the ghosts they are today. I hope I do not disappoint. Next chapter shall bring you back to your regularly scheduled showdown between the Pyres and the Titans.

I'd like to point out that the character known simply as Jules isn't just there just because. He'll play an important part in future story lines. And technically, he isn't a new character. You've met him before. Where? Go read waaaaay in the beginning of the story. Look at the names of a few people. :p I know you'll find it.

Haunted Destiny Chapter 20: Father's Shadow Part 2

Jump City, Eight Months Later

After a few months of being on earth, Valara was both amazed and flabbergasted by the advances and nuances of her strange new surroundings. She marveled at the ingenuity the people seemed to exude, despite their overall lack of magic. She was also extremely confused by some of their customs and somewhat barbarian ways. It was definitely not as peaceful as Azarath was, but she was slowly warming up to it.

Jules had still not come back, after so many months. She wondered if he had perished when Skath was defeated or possibly banished. After realizing the possibility that he might never return, Valara had decided that she had to adapt on her own in this strange new world. She had found a job in the bookstore which was conveniently at the corner. Its dark mood and atmosphere suited her recent demeanor quite well. It also had an immense collection of old books, some of which had a few gems of magical knowledge. In between helping customers, she would help herself to some of her own reading. It was a day like this in her first week on the job that she found herself coming face to face with Raven.

Valara had learned after the near apocalypse several months ago the Gem was still living in the city, under the guise of a hero. She was living in an island off the coast of the city along with four others, heralding themselves as being its protectors. Valara also learned that Raven was the one who had stopped her own father and saved the world from falling victim to Trigon's advances. Even so, she had never expected to bump into her. They had never met in Azarath due to Raven being guarded by the mages for most of her life. Valara remembered that she once had a bit of respect for her, due to their similar backgrounds; both had the legacies of their fathers hanging over their heads

Valara never let on that she knew who Raven really was. She hoped that Raven interpreted her nervousness for the usual adoration the city seemed to give its heroes. Valara smiled anxiously as she sold Raven her book and gave her the standard thank you. Raven raised an eyebrow at the girl's timid nature, but said nothing as she left. Valara had learned later on that the dark sorceress was a regular shopper to the book store, showing up every so often to purchase a book or two. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, they met routinely on many occasions. Valara made an effort to conceal her identity.

When not at work, her time would be occupied working on her special 'project'. She had been working on her little endeavor ever since a few weeks after she had settled onto Earth. During her rummaging through the apartment she had stumbled upon one of Jules's old journal. She couldn't stop from reading it; she knew little of his past and curiosity got the better of her. She found something quite interesting, however; she found a rather detailed account of her father's banishment. Jules had never talked much about what happened to her father; only that he was punished and was sent away. She read the entry over and over again, finding any hint of hope that her father was still alive. The only clue she had to his whereabouts was the dimension they had sent him to, known simply as Acheron Prime.

She began to poor over all the books, searching for anymore references to that place. She knew she was probably wasting her time. Her father was probably long dead and forgotten. But if there was even a chance that he could have survived, it was a risk she was willing to take. She felt that if she was able to find him, he would be able to cure the solitude that seemed to plague her existence. She finally found what she was looking for: the dimensional coordinates to Acheron Prime.

She began doing more research on breaching dimensional barriers and tracking spells. Using her observation of her trip to Earth as a reference, she painstakingly took notes on various means of opening portals. She filled up various notebooks with notations, equations and diagrams. The apartment began resembling her former home, littered with books and paper everywhere while she spent every waking moment working on her plan. She labored as if possessed, which sometimes cut into her sleep time and caused her to be late to work. Any left over money she had went into collecting the necessary materials needed.

All her hard work, all her determination, all led up this moment. She had cleaned up an area of the bedroom in order to draw a transmutation circle. Various inscriptions in various languages decorated the inner and outer edges of the markings. She placed a number of stones evenly around the circle. Their purpose was to control and collect the excessive energy that would leak out from the creation of the portal and refocus it back into the portal, which would reinforce it even further and make it stable. This would replace the need of four people to create it, as was needed from what she read in Jules's notes. She knew that long distance portals such as the one she was trying to create had a knack for falling apart and/or blowing up, whichever came first. She also knew she needed it to stay open as long as possible, in order for the second part of her spell to be able to do its thing. She made one final check on her calculations to make sure everything checked out and that conditions were within optimal parameters.

Valara took a deep breath to try and calm herself down, the giddiness creeping up in her body. That was the last thing she needed. One mistake and she could end up pulling herself into the same fate her father had befallen. She just couldn't help but feel excited. If she was successful, she'd finally meet him. She spent the nigh before trying think of things to say to him, things to ask him. There was a very real possibility that he was already dead, that she wouldn't bring anything back from Acheron, or worse, bring back something that was definitely not her father. She squashed down all her fears and worries as she took another cleansing breath. She raised her hands, resolve now taking over as she began the ritual.

"Porta Olympus, porta terra, porta barathrum, elementum terra, ventus, incendia, unda, vita quod nex. Tribuo mihi ops patefacio porta ut inconcessus terra. Commodo sino mihi is pre!," Valara chanted as she began to pour magical energy into the circle, as her hands glowed an eerie orange hue. The ring reacted instantly to her enchantment; the words inscribed in it began to glow the same color as the ones in her hands. Happy to see a reaction, she continued her chant, closing her eyes to concentrate. She could hear the rustling of sheets of paper as the growing density of magic in the room caused the air to move. The stones she placed activated and started to shine brightly, indicating they were doing their jobs; Valara could feel the flow of magic that tried to stray away being refocused back onto that one spot that she hoped would soon be occupied by a portal.

The circle on the floor was now shining as bright as a floodlight as it was now crackling with energy. She could feel the strain taking hold on her body as she continued on. Valara tried to ignore it; she was close, she just knew it. A few moments later her patience paid off; a large thunder-like boom rocked the room, announcing the tearing of space-time. The blast was so great that Valara lost her footing and fell back first into a pile of books. She struggled to get free and then surveyed her work. The portal was now stabilizing, swirling around with orange energy. She smirked as realized her first phase one of her plan was now complete. Valara immediately went to work on phase two. She knew there was a chance the portal could become unstable any moment now so she had to work fast. Closing her eyes again, she summoned the tracking spell that she had prepared for the occasion. Pulling out a picture of her father she muttered a few words under her breath and held out her hand. A ball of light appeared, hovering above her waiting palm. The ball hovered near the picture as if it was examining it, and then dove headfirst into the vortex.

Valara crossed her fingers as she waited for its return. The realm was probably infinitely large, so there was a large chance it wouldn't find anything. She hoped that luck was in her favor.

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He was alone.

He didn't know how long he had been there. Was it mere days? Years? Decades? Had it been an eternity? He didn't know. He had lost track of time a long time ago. There was no way to tell time there; there was no rising or setting sun, no moon, not even stars. The sky was always red, like blood. The only light there came from the never ending fires that burned brightly everywhere. It was always bright and always hot; not that the heat affected him anymore.

He remembered the day as if it was yesterday (or maybe it was yesterday). Those fools in the council had the audacity to accuse him of treason and throw him down into the abyss of this hellish place. Not that their accusations were false; he had indeed been planning a safety measure against Trigon. He didn't even plan on using it; he created the option just because he could. He never thought they'd react the way they did. They needed him. If it wasn't for him, they wouldn't have the key they needed to conquer Azarath. They wouldn't have the information they needed on Skath's spawn. They dared to treat his intellect as it was mere trash, just like they did on Azarath.

He thought they were different. They had recruited him and let him have access to whatever project he wanted. He could study and practice and do research to his heart's content. All he needed to do were a few things; watch over the Gem and give them vital info on Azarath. Both he had no qualms with complying with. Their downfall would be their own doing. He had offered them the perfect way to fight back against the Order and they spit in his face. They treated him like a child, too lost in their nonsensical pacifistic philosophy to even care. They betrayed him and demoted him when he spoke too loudly. He was more than eager to get back at them.

In the end, they were just like those buzzards in Azarath. It wasn't his fault he was banished. True, he had been a bit careless in his…unauthorized experiments. True, he hadn't been thorough enough in covering his tracks. He should have been more cautious when it came to the people who kept turning up missing. He was just too caught up in his research. His experiments were highly successful and he couldn't help but accelerate his research. It wasn't his fault he had gotten carried away. And just because of a few absent mages, they excommunicated him from his homeland; those bastards.

He thought the Order would understand the significance of his findings, but instead they saw him as a threat. That had to be it. He was too smart for his own good and now they wished to punish him for his brilliance. It wasn't bad enough that they had tortured him, ripping apart his mind to take away whatever knowledge and secrets he possessed, but they had the audacity to give him their most dreadful punishment. HIM. Xanthus Pyre.

The moment that portal opened, he could feel the heat. Even in his weakened state, he could remember the attributes of Acheron Prime: the fires that engulfed that realm were more of a magical reaction than a chemical one. There was an old tome that stated it was formed by an ancient evil long ago. The tome said that the fire was the result of a million souls being ignited all at once. He didn't believe that rubbish, the affects of the place was well documented. Not only did affect your physical body but it could react with and combust your soul as well. Anyone who didn't have enough protection would be forever tormented, or at least the strong ones would. Anyone with little power in them would be completely consumed, their spiritual energy adding to the already intense fires. Things did not bode well for him.

He felt the effects immediately as he was launched beyond the event horizon into the fiery void. He felt nothing but blind, searing, unadulterated pain. It seemed to devour him, burning his flesh. But it did more than that. He could feel the pain and the intense heat reach all the way to his core. Anguish filled his mind so much he couldn't even think. He screamed in vain for salvation that would never come.

He didn't know when he died. Maybe it was the minute he arrived there. Maybe it was much later. He could never tell. All he knew was pain. He could feel himself being burnt away, slowly but surely. He didn't know how long he could last. Only one thought crept up I his mind amongst the agony that kept him sane: vengeance, on both Azarath and the Order. They both rejected him, both ridiculed him. They threw him away like garbage in a literal incinerator. Vengeance was his only salvation; it consumed him almost as much as the fires did, if not more. Soon, he realized that he no longer felt pain. He realized that the fires of Acheron and the fires of vengeance of his heart were one and the same. The flames no longer caused him pain; in fact, he became one with them.

Once he came to understand what had happened to him, his old curious tendencies rushed forth. He actually absorbed the properties of the inferno. It followed his every command, his every whim. It had changed him. He could feel the power coursing through him; he could feel the heat at his finger tips. He could feel the fury that as just under the skin, waiting to unleash onto his enemies. He couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of it all. They threw him here to die and all they did was make him stronger. He spent his time thinking and contemplating how he would get his revenge. He bided his time, getting stronger with ever moment by just being in the inferno. He tested his new powers often, to get a better understanding of them.

His existence was suddenly interrupted when he came face to face with something strange. A spherical blob of energy abruptly flew into his face, blocking his view. He tried swatting it away, but it merely dodged his efforts. His fury rose as he began to barrage it with wave after wave of fire. Once again, it simply dodged his attacks deftly. Before he could even utter a word, the ball grew and expanded, quickly surrounding him. He bellowed in frustration as he tried to break free, but it was all in vain. He was then disoriented as the sphere sped up, jostling him as it went on his merry way to only a certain girl knew where.

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Valara waited. And waited. Every second brought a mix of both excitement and a sense of disappointment. There was a very large chance she would be waiting a long time. Or that the portal could collapse before the seeking spell would do its job. Or that the barrier that protected her would falter and she would feel the effects of the fire. Or that the spell could accidentally bring something else back; a monster indigenous to the dimension. Or perhaps the charred remains of her father.

Valara shook her head to remove all of her doubts. She would find him. He was a smart, ingenious mage. He would have found a way to survive, just as she had found a way to look for him. And she would. She watched and waited as the portal continued to swirl. She then felt a tug, which meant that the spell was returning. Had she done it? She prepared herself for anything. The barrier was a first wall of defense, but she took no chances as she readied an attack spell. On Azarath there were no use for such things, but she had learned quite a bit since arriving on Earth. She gulped and waited for the spell to return with cargo.

The portal suddenly began to flair again, its outer edge sending out a bolt of orange magic at the shield. The Barrier wavered in the assault as she gasped. That wasn't good. She was more afraid of the destabilizing wormhole than the fact that the only thing keeping her safe at the moment was about to collapse. The portal became more and more erratic as bolts of energy continued to arc. She backed up, unable to calm the temperamental singularity until the room was once again bathed in orange light. She covered her eyes and once again found herself underneath a pile of books, her body thrown from the strength of the discharge.

She coughed from the smoke as she dug herself out. The young sorceress surveyed the area. A charred spot on the floor was all that was left of her portal. The stones were burned to a crisp as well. She sighed and the smoldering remains of her project. It had taken her forever to get the right materials. She didn't think she could recreate everything from scratch again. It was then that she noticed that something, or rather someone was floating several feet above her. She backed up cautiously as she examined the strange figure. He seemed anything but human; tar black skin marred by glowing cracks, crimson red coat, glowing aura. This couldn't be her father, could it? Had she failed?

He (or it) did not seem to notice her presence just yet. He looked disoriented and confused. She feared for her safety, but at the same time she was curious. She wondered who and what he was. She advanced cautiously, taking care not to make any sudden movements. He finally noticed the other occupant in the room and growled. Both his hands and his entire head burst into flames, scaring her. His yellow eyes stared at her, unsure to label her as friend or prey. They stayed like this for what seemed to be an eternity. She finally worked up the nerve to speak, hoping the next few words wouldn't be her last.

"Are you," Valara began to inquire; "Are you Xanthus Pyre?" the being eyed her with a curious glare.

"And what if I'm not?" he asked, speaking for the first time in a long time. "Who dares to ask?"

"Please, I must know," she replied. "My - my name is Valara. Valara Pyre. Xanthus was my father. Is he still down there? Is he still alive?" The ghost floated there for a moment, not saying a word. This couldn't be his little Lara, could it? She was only a baby when he was banished. Had he really been gone that long?

"Lara?" he said in a whisper. The flames on his body were now gone as he examined the girl claiming to be his daughter. He could tell immediately that she had her mother's eyes. She had grown into a fine young woman. Was she the one that freed him? He knew that breaking the dimensional barrier was no small feat.

"Daddy?" she whispered just as quietly. Her hands covered her mouth as she gasped at what her father had now become. "Oh, by Azar, what happened to you?"

"To put it simply, I died," Xanthus replied matter of factly. Her eyes widened in shock over this new revelation.

"I-I'm sorry," she burst out suddenly, tears streaming down her face. "I –If only I had tried sooner! If only I had known earlier, I would have..."

"It's not your fault, Lara," he reassured as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up with her tear filled eyes. "They did this to me. Those pigs in Azarath and the bastards in the Order. They made me like this. I want to thank them, actually." He flexed his hands. "They tried to destroy me but instead gave me a wonderful gift."

"I-I don't understand," she said as she dried her eyes.

"You can't understand yet, my dear," he said with a smirk. "Not yet, at least. Tell me, where are we? Are we on Azarath?"

"No," she answered. "We're on Earth. Azarath was…destroyed by the Order a few months ago."

"Was it?" he pondered. "That's a shame. I wanted the satisfaction of crushing them myself. And what of the prophecy? Has Trigon shown his ugly face yet?"

"The prophecy did occur, but Trigon was vanquished," she responded.

"He what?!" he exclaimed, his head once again bursting into flames. "Trigon fell? By whose hand? Who defeated him?"

"The Gem," she said simply. He couldn't believe it. Trigon's own child defeated him. He stood there for a few moments, unable to speak. Valara wondered if she had done something wrong in telling him. She was then met with his laughter as he couldn't contain his amusement. Just as abruptly as it started, the laughter stopped.

"The irony," he said with a chuckle. "The almighty Trigon the terrible was defeated by his own little brat." He paused as a thought crossed his mind. "I always knew she had potential, actually. She may be of some used to me yet." He then focused his sights on his daughter, who looked like she was as scared as a mouse. "Valara, my dear."

"Ye-Yes, father?" Valara said as calmly as she could, despite her obvious mix of excitement and jumpiness.

"Why did you bring me back?" he asked. He eyed her carefully, floating around her slowly.

"Because…" she stopped, not sure how to explain it. "Because I thought if you were here, life wouldn't be so bad. No understood me back home. They never tried to understand me. I hoped that if anyone could understand me, it would be you, father."

"That I do, my dear Valara," Xanthus said. "Tell me, do you trust me?"

"Yes, father," Valara replied without hesitation. "Even as you are now. You're all that I have left." The ghost nodded.

"And would you do anything for me?" he asked. Valara nodded silently. She couldn't see him floating behind her. A small column of smoke extended from both sides of his fist. It solidified, forming a large staff. The top of the staff flared into a flaming blade, completing the scythe. "Would you even…die for me?" Before she could answer she felt a sudden intense jab of pain pierce her back and run through her chest. She looked down to find a flaming blade sticking out of her. She wailed as the pain coursed through her body. The world around her melted away and everything turned to black.

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"Valara," a voice called out to her. "Wake up, my dear." She moaned softly as the world came flooding back around her. "It's alright, my sweet. It should take some time to adjust."

"Adjust to what, father?" the sorceress asked. "I don't understand. What…" Her question was cut short as she looked down and saw… herself. He body lay there, unmoving on the ground. Wait, below? She looked at her feet to confirm that she was indeed floating several feet in the air. A look at her hands confirmed her semi-translucent state. "No…" she whispered as her current state now sank in her mind.

"Welcome to the land of the dead," Xanthus stated with a grin. Her reply was a loud, haunting scream.