A/N: Meh. I got nothing.

(8)

I was surprised but so very glad to see Madam Crow again. She was to be my guide, choosing to appear to me as a youthful woman with shimmering hair nearly as white as my own but with strands that glinted like pale silver. It was strange as I had become accustomed to seeing her as elderly. It occurred to me that Madam Crow was more than merely human, but what she was she would not say outright. Instead I received more riddles to wade through in my mind. I asked of her connection to the High Priest and she explained to me that she knew him well.

Just how old was Madam Crow, really?

~ Excerpt from Rorek's memoirs.

(O)

Chapter 38 – Broken Circle

"Don't try so hard. You cannot force the energy to move through your body, you have to let it flow. Relax a little."

"You'd think I'd remember something this basic."

"Not if you've been using mostly magic all this time. Take a deep breath; that tends to help."

She took a deep breath and let it out. She relaxed her body a little so as to relax her mind. She redirected her emotions. Energy was energy…psychic power and magical power; go far enough down and the two were one and the same. Different but not unconnected. Energy was energy, matter was matter, space…time…the dimensions, the physical aspects of reality. Energy was energy. Movement, heat, light…

How had this been so easy for The Other? The Other had turned her power into physical force without even trying. Perhaps…perhaps psychic power was the natural, the primal, shape of all human power. But since she was not entirely human that power preferred the shape of magic.

Power…don't think about psychic or magic, just think about the energy. she told herself. She crouched into the same stance that Damien was using. "Ready." she said.

Malchior and Rorek were being given some sort lessons in the basics by one of the Careers, a very tired Nightwing was having his first lesson in the psychic aspect of monk fighting – that being in proper meditation and how to do it without falling asleep. Beast Boy was being asked to demonstrate the typical method of battle used by certain of Earth's more vicious wildlife. Starfire was being taught individual moves and katas. And Cyborg had been carted over to Azarath's techno laboratories where he was likely being asked to give some lectures and demonstrations of his own. He'd taken Red X with him. Well, no he hadn't. Red X had just followed him without asking.

Raven wasn't sure why Damien had offered to help her brush up on her martial arts. Everyone knew she was primarily a sorceress. She had achieved the level of Trainee back when she'd been studying as a monk, but she largely suspected that was because her ability to meditate and focus her emotions was on par with the Masters.

But that wasn't so much a feat of her skill as an absolute necessity.

Still, what meager amount of hand-to-hand combat she possessed had been gained after her departure. Then again, since she'd learned most of it from Nightwing and tended to measure her own skill against him, perhaps she wasn't as bad off as she'd thought. Nightwing had, after all, defeated an Acolyte even while his stamina was winding down.

But her ability to use her psychic power as a monk should was greatly lacking.

She attacked, simply punching for now while Damien caught her fists in order to judge how much power she was putting into her limbs.

"Good." he told her, countering her force with his own. "That's it, you've got it. Keep it up. Don't think about speed or style right now, just focus on pumping that power into the body itself. Arms, legs, even your torso. Try to keep it all balanced out and even regardless of what you are using."

Legs, she'd forgotten about her legs. You needed strength in all parts of the body in order to truly put your all into an attack. She pulled back a moment to get herself balanced, and then she came back.

"Much better." he said approvingly.

A few more punches and she started putting in a few kicks. This wasn't an actual fight, however, so she was aiming for his braced hands rather than anything vital. But she was starting to get a feel for this, as though she wasn't so much learning it as remembering it.

She was remembering it. Not from her monk training, but from The Other. The Other had done this effortlessly, and she had a vague recollection of that feeling, of redirecting her power. Not forcing it, but guiding it gently and subtly into the necessary shape. It wanted to be magic, but that did not mean it had to be.

"Alright, would you like to try an actual spar?" Damien asked.

"Yes." she decided.

They began.

Fists and legs flew, struck, twisted, turned, danced, dodged, and blocked. Her goal was to toss her opponent out of the ring. She knew she couldn't, but such thought was sent away so that her thoughts could be focused upon the battle. At first he simply dodged and blocked and she registered a look of surprise on his face that she saw but did not consider. Thoughts like that would have to wait for another time. All she should be looking for was the next attack, the next opportunity, seeing her opponent's moves and predicting them. She was good at reading people. Then he started to take the offensive and she found herself with no time for anything but to block, dodge, or take a hit and keep on if she needed to. She registered pain, but pushed it aside. All emotions were focused on the task at hand. She was the edge of a blade. Her power and thoughts focused. It was almost like becoming a ghost of The Other.

She wasn't sure how long they went like this. Time did not seem to be worth considering. All she knew was that she was fighting, and then she had been knocked out of the ring. This registered in her mind as defeat; an end or pause to the battle. She blinked and rolled back up onto her feet. She felt a bit like she was coming out of a daze of some sort. And now multiple parts of her body were chiming in to complain with great enthusiasm.

"Ow!" she gasped, rubbing her side and wincing. It seemed to be the loudest complainant, though not by a whole lot. She forgot the pain when she noticed the way everyone was looking at her. That was odd, this crowd hadn't been there when they'd started had it?

"My sentiments as well." Damien said. She looked at him and noticed, with great surprise, that he was sweating and rubbing his arm. "Either I am a better teacher than I thought, or you've picked up some tricks on Earth. I am thinking that if your power and focus were combined with Nightwing's skill I would be in some real trouble. Weren't you a Trainee before you left?"

"Yes? Why is everyone looking at me like I just grew a second head?" Raven asked, rubbing the moisture off her forehead and wincing when she felt the sting. It turned out to be blood, not sweat. "Sweet Maartuz, how did I not notice this?" she gasped.

"Don't worry. It looks very minor." Malchior said as he and Rorek converged on her.

"Head wounds always bleed a lot." Rorek supplied, holding a hand over her forehead. She winced as his healing spell sped up her body's own capabilities. Various bits of her let out veritable screams of protest and for one brief moment she thought she might black out from the pain. Contrary to popular belief, magical healing does not feel good. Its primary method is to simply grant the body the strength and encouragement to get everything mended naturally – but at a very accelerated rate. And what does the body do when it's healing? Hurt. Doing a healing all by magic rather than letting the body – which already knows what to do – fix things itself would require a spell more complicated than the overall workings of a modern Titan communicator just to close up a simple cut.

But after it was done the pain was gone save for a dull throb her mind wasn't entirely sure it should be letting go of so swiftly.

"You should have let me do that." the present medical sorcerer stated reproachfully. "Healing is no simple feat. You can do a lot of irreparable damage with the simplest mistake."

"Understood." Rorek responded mildly. "But Lady Raven's own healing rate is particularly potent. A general strengthening and accelerating technique is all she needs. Even for a cracked rib and a fractured shoulder blade."

"Yes, well…all the same…I do have a lot of experience here." he said, a bit flustered.

"As do I, Serrah. On battlefields, no less. I assure you, I would not have made the attempt if I did not feel myself competent." Rorek told him respectfully. "I believe Sir Damien might require your more specified capabilities, however."

"Oh! Yes! My apologize, Acolyte Crux!"

"Dang, Raven, that was pretty impressive." Nightwing said. He gave her a broad grin, "Hey, maybe I'm a better teacher than I thought too. How much have you been practicing all those moves I showed you?"

"Frequently. Though only on practice robots and punching bags and only to stop myself getting bored with traditional cardio and weight-training exercises." she admitted.

"You didn't think it would stick?" he asked her with a smirk. "Raven, when you perform moves like that often enough then it's your body that starts to remember them so your head doesn't have to. It sticks in your muscles so you are able to do them without thinking and therefore do them fast and instinctively."

"I guess I never really thought about it. It was just exercise to me." she mused.

"It paid off." Nightwing said. "Alright, so there's definitely a lot of room for improvement. But what you lacked in grace and skill you made up for in power, speed, and stamina."

"Also a bloody-minded refusal to stop until he got you out of the ring." Malchior grumbled. "Don't do that again, alright? Pain is there for a reason and a friendly spar is not the time or place to ignore it."

Raven shrugged. "I didn't feel the pain. I was too focused."

"And there is no such thing as too much focus." came a dry, clipped voice that Raven had no trouble recognizing. She turned and the hovering Starfire moved out of the way to reveal a tall, aged woman with her iron gray hair up in a severe bun and her piercing blue eyes fixed on Raven. There was a permanent scowl on her face, an expression that gave credence to the old axiom 'your face will get stuck like that' due to its lack of alteration even on the rare occasions when the woman was pleased. She was pleased now. You could tell if you knew the woman and listened for it in her voice. "You've clearly been keeping up with your meditation. Well done, Roth."

"Thank you, Grandmaster Zephyr." Raven said, nodding her head.

"Show's over. Back to training!" the Grandmaster commanded, dispersing the crowd almost immediately. She turned her attention back on Raven. "You almost defeated Crux." she half-accused. "And you were only barely a Trainee before you left. I would say that is not normal, but you have never been 'normal', have you? The Patriarch tells me your power has increased and you may be in need of extra training. Though I gathered you were intending to train in magic, yes?"

"Yes, Grandmaster. Magic is my natural talent."

"Huh." was her derisive response. "I don't know what you said to Astrid but she's got it in her head that she'll be training you. I suggest you get all that sorted out with Patriarch Zanith. In the meantime, YOU!" She rounded on Nightwing like the snap of a bowstring. Nightwing jumped.

"Uh, yes?"

"Unless you intend to spend more than a month in this realm honing your psychic power you will get back to your meditation this instant and you will stay there until I tell you to leave! You want to fly? I'll do it in three days but only if you do what I tell you when I tell you and don't allow yourself to be so easily distracted! Do you hear me?-!"

"Yes Ma'am!" Nightwing squeaked.

"What?-!"

"Y-yes Grandmaster!" he amended with a Career-level instinct for survival. He bolted.

"I guess we should get word back to Kid Flash that we'll be here for three days." Raven mused.

"Oh yes!" Starfire exclaimed. "If Nightwing learns to fly it will be glorious!"

"Why you did not think to teach me the psychic method of flight?" Rorek asked Raven curiously.

"Because I don't know it." she answered. "I told you, my ability to fly is natural. I was doing it before I even learned to walk. In fact I had to be trained to walk without flying. Besides, Grandmaster Zephyr is one of the best teachers in the Citadel. She has a strange knack of finding the right method of teaching for each individual student and using it. I certainly couldn't have gotten you flying in only three days."

"Ah, I see."

"I'll go find Cyborg." Raven said.

(O)

They were able to get some signal between realms, but only Cyborg's wrist could manage it and even then he kept getting random interference.

"So it looks like we'll be hanging out here for—"

"Don't go down there! It's dark!"

"Gah!"

"What? What was that?"

"Bugs Bunny. Anyway, think you can handle things?"

"Sure, no problem. Jinx says she'll—"

"You don't say, you don't say!", "Who was it?", "He didn't say."

"Oh for the love of—"

Kid Flash was laughing. "Someone's just accused the Martian Manhunter of being a prank on live television!" he exclaimed.

"Probably best if we just e-mailed from here on out." Cyborg sighed.

"Got it. Later."

Cyborg closed his wrist screen. "So, any particular reason we're staying?" he asked.

"Nightwing made the mistake of telling Grandmaster Zephyr he wanted to learn how to fly. Now she's sequestered him for non-stop training." Several on-lookers winced and groaned with sympathy. "We'll be lucky to see either hide or hair of him until she's done."

"Good thing I'm having so much fun, then! How about you? You look like you've had a workout. Smell like it too."

"You're just jealous that I have a body odor."

"No way, man. Coolant beats sweat glands any day. For one thing it works even in humidity."

"Alright, you win. I'll catch up with you later. Try not to let them keep you up all night."

She left the laboratories and made her way back to the gym. Before she knew it Damien was suddenly there, walking alongside her.

She stopped and stared at him in some surprise. "Did you follow me?"

"Yes. I was hoping to speak to you alone."

"Oh." Why? It wasn't as though they knew each other very well. Why start now?

"Perhaps we can take the long rout back?" he suggested.

She nodded. There didn't seem any polite way out of this. 'Because I don't want to' certainly wasn't a good enough reason. What did they have to talk about? Besides the obvious, of course.

"You're different." he began.

"Am I? How can you tell?" She winced. That hadn't come out right. But he didn't take offense. Instead he gave her a small smile.

"Well, you're actually talking to me for one."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, alright, but be fair; I didn't talk to anyone much back then." she pointed out.

"I suppose not."

"Nothing like being the daughter of the very inter-dimensional demon your home world was founded to destroy to put a slight crimp in your social life."

Damien stopped and stared at her in stunned amazement for a moment, and then he gave a very light chuckle. A few people gave him a look of alarm and then hurried on as though whatever he had might be contagious. Apparently he wasn't known for easy laughter.

"Fair enough, fair enough." he admitted good-naturedly. But then he sobered back up. "Is that why you always kept to yourself?"

She shrugged. "I guess that was part of the reason. But mostly it's because, when I was very young, I didn't have very good control over my powers. I wasn't really allowed to play with anyone my own age; it was too dangerous. So by the time I had enough control not to go blasting my peers out the window I suppose I was sort of in the habit of being alone. I didn't know how to talk to people my own age; I didn't really know how to be my own age. All those things you learn as a child, the things no one tells you and are never actually written down, I had to learn as an adult. And, mentally, I was an adult long before my body began the tiresome process of adolescence. It was necessary." she explained. "It was the Titans, Starfire and Beast Boy mostly, who helped me learn the things I should have as a child."

"It seems almost pathetic that all the Grandmasters and Magisters who trained you couldn't give you something as basic as a childhood." Damien mused.

"Azar did her best. But otherwise…I'm not sure how possible it would have been. In truth, I'm grateful for the severe conditioning I received. Considering my circumstances, especially at present, the alternative would have been so much worse."

"If that is what you believe then I will not argue. Still, you've suffered a great deal for something that was in no way under your control. It does not seem fair." he said.

Raven shrugged. "Life isn't fair." she said. "Life, the universe, and everything doesn't care what's fair and what isn't. You can either spend your time bemoaning the fact or get over it and get on with things. What good does complaining do? Besides, I'm happy enough on Earth. And if it hadn't been me then it would have been someone else and they'd be making the same complaint, wouldn't they?"

"I suppose I still have some maturing of my own to do." Damien mused.

There was silence between them for a few minutes as they passed a group of chattering girls who were, fortunately, too preoccupied with themselves and each other to pay them much mind.

"You do remember we were engaged, right?" he asked. He was trying to be light and joking about it, maybe even humorous. But light and joking didn't really suit him very well and it only made it worse.

"I remember." she answered gently. "I also remember we broke it off."

"You broke it off." he corrected softly. "My…family chose to see it as an extended engagement."

Raven resisted the urge to snort aloud. She knew darn well what 'family' Damien was talking about. Madam Crux was well-known for her controlling nature. It was a character flaw that was tolerated only minimally in Azarath and was likely one of the many reasons she did not become a Matriarch after her mother-in-law as she'd been aiming for.

Raven took a moment to marshal her response. The first words that came to mind would not have been appropriate, even if they were in a language Damien couldn't possibly know. So she backtracked, calmed herself down, and was able to express herself in a far more calm and far less insulting manor. "I do not have a problem with people arraigning my life for me," she began smoothly, "I mean, it saves me having to do it myself. But I have news for your family – or rather that particular part of your family to whom you are referring: My knowledge and consent are necessary. I have my own obligations and intentions for the future of my life; a future that is going to be on Earth, for the most part. And if your mother has a problem with it," she gave Damien a bright smile as the words suddenly popped into her head and then out of her mouth, "she is welcome to take it up with my father."

Damien's jaw dropped. He stopped mid-step and goggled, actually goggled, at her for a full five seconds before saying, in his usual mellow voice, "I will give you ten blood rubies if you'll say that to my mother's face."

She grinned, "If I find myself in your mother's face then I promise to do so."

"That may happen sooner rather than later. Once word gets back to her that you've returned she plans on starting…preparations." he confessed with a grimace.

"Then maybe you'd better give her a call and tell her yourself."

A slow, guilty smile made its way across his face. He cleared his throat. "'I'm sorry, Mother. Raven has informed me that she has made her own arraignments and has told me to tell you that if you have a problem with it you are to take it up with her father.'"

Raven shook her head. "No, no. You're grinning too much! And you've started snickering. Even if Azarath were still using audio-only communication you'd be in trouble. You have to say it in your usual clear, calm, matter-of-fact voice. If you do it in that tone then she's going to pick up on the barb right away and you don't want that. You want it to take her a minute to figure it out. Try again."

(O)

It was fairly late in the day. The gym was almost bare now but there was still plenty to do even though the Masters and Grandmasters had all gone (Grandmaster Zephyr had taken Nightwing with her, though). Rorek was currently practicing a kata that one of the Careers had shown him, Starfire and Malchior were having a friendly spar – though it wasn't working too well since neither of them could seem to keep their feet on the ground like they were supposed to – and Beast Boy had all but passed out. He'd been dragged off to visit the baths by his new friends. Apparently they were going to buy him a spa treatment as a thank-you.

He was the first to spot Raven's return.

She was with Damien Crux.

Rorek's eyes narrowed but he kept this information to himself, knowing that Malchior would take one look at this scene and leap to the most obvious conclusion. Especially since the two of them were laughing and smiling. Well, Raven was. It took a moment to see that Damien was as well since the change was minute.

They'd been suspicious of that boy already, but, unlike Malchior, Rorek was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, Raven was not blushing. That was a good sign. If she has any romantic interests in this boy she'd either be bright red or have closed herself up and wouldn't be smiling or laughing quite as easily.

He discretely made his way towards the pair of them, though he kept himself out of sight behind training structures and the various trees that littered the gym. They were not real trees, but they were very adequate and functional fakes. He soon got close enough to hear what they were saying, which was farther than most humans needed to be. Being a dragon certainly had its advantages, even in human form.

"Sweet Maartuz, you are terrible at this!" Raven exclaimed. "You can't laugh, alright? Not even a little! You have to keep a straight face."

"I know, I know. I simply can't get over the fact that I am preparing to, in a vague, round-about way and no offense meant, tell the dictator of my life that you told her to go to hell." Damien Crux responded. "Don't get me wrong; I love my mother, I do, but she can be a bit…"

"Overbearing?" Raven finished.

"Let's just say she did not get her unfortunate reputation for no good reason. For the most part it's just easier all around if the family does what she wants, or at least pretends to. I did try to tell her that our engagement was cut off, not simply postponed, but she doesn't always listen too well to things she doesn't want to hear. Even so, I'll never understand how she managed to get around the believed fact of your death for all these years. I suppose, in a way, I should be grateful. It meant that, at the very least, she didn't go looking for someone else for me to marry."

"Why did she want you to marry me in the first place? It's not as though we had much to do with one another…"

"Yes, but, by your own admission, you didn't have much to do with anyone." Damien sighed and shrugged. "If you want my rather ungenerous but honest opinion: I think it was because she mistook your respectful demeanor and reclusiveness as timidity. She thought you would be an easy daughter-in-law to control." he explained. "I don't think the whole 'daughter of an inter-dimensional demon' part really crossed her mind."

"Really? That's almost complementary. But I'm afraid I'm a lot more outspoken now than I used to be. I doubt she's going to want me for a daughter-in-law any more once she finds this out."

"That's extremely likely. Incidentally I have been contemplating an extended trip to Earth to assist in the battle against the Church of Blood. And, perhaps, not coming back."

Time ate his children… Rorek thought. Overbearing parents lose their children one way or another.

"Alright, so their engagement is off. They're still talking to one another!" Malchior growled. Looked like Rorek hadn't been keeping as much of this to himself as he should have. Malchior was already in the process of stopping his spar in order to approach them with every intention of tearing the two of them apart. Or tearing something, anyway.

"Don't, Malchior." Rorek warned, presenting a list of reasons why ripping Damien Crux into pieces would not be a good idea. Said list included an irate Raven, the hinted fact that the boy has no personal intention of pursuing the engagement since it had been arraigned by his overbearing mother, and a vague notion that the two of them had something in common with him. EG: Overbearing mother. "Besides," he began reasonably, "Even if he does feel some attraction for Raven, befriending him will make it very difficult for him to justify a personal pursuit for the woman we obviously desire. Such a betrayal will not sit well with his noble spirit."

That caused Malchior to pause.

"You are a manipulative little bastard, you know that?"

"Coming from you, dear brother, I take that as a complement." Though knowledge of just who Rorek was manipulating he was keeping locked up deep down in his head where Malchior couldn't find it.

Damien was still talking. "Would it be possible for me to become a Teen Titan?"

"Very possible, so long as you don't mind following Nightwing's lead. There are Titans all over the world, but what separates a Titan from any other teenage superhero is the unspoken agreement that Nightwing is at the top of a hierarchy we only sort of possess." Raven explained. "I was under the impression that Patriarch Zanith intended for the amount of field agents to increase exponentially in order to seek out and destroy the Church of Blood."

"He is, but that is going to take time to organize. Besides, as I've said, I'm intending to take a leaf out of your book and make Earth my home…if I can."

"Your mother isn't going to like that…"

"My mother isn't going to find out until it's too late. I am more concerned about living arrangements."

"That's something you'll need to discuss with Nightwing. Short-term it's likely you'll be asked to join Lady Eisen in Gotham where we believe the Church of Blood has set up a headquarters. Long-term, however…well, I know the Titans Europe is desperate for more members. You'll be more than welcome."

"It sounds like an adequate plan to me. Though I don't know how much I'll be able to contribute financially. There is not much I feel I can rightfully claim as my own."

"Oh I think you'll be surprised. Half a handful of Azarathian blood rubies was all that was needed to build the first T-Tower and keep it going for some time. Gemstones are a lot more valuable on Earth than they are in Azarath. Particularly the rubies."

"That's what the field agents tell us, but I suppose I never quite appreciated just how much more value they had. You built an entire structure with only 8 or 9 rubies?"

"Yes we did."

"I have a hard time believing that. How large were the rubies?"

"About the size of your thumb. Standard size."

"Are we talking about gemstones?" Rorek came in, deciding he'd had enough eavesdropping. Besides, Malchior was at his heels and Rorek wasn't entirely sure he could trust his brother not to do any tearing regardless.

"Malachite, goshenite, moonstone, blood rubies, and diamonds are the standard denominations of currency in Azarath." Raven told him. "One malachite stone is worth about as much as a quarter on earth, one goshenite is around 10 dollars, one moonstone is 30, one blood ruby is 60, a star blood ruby is 120, and a diamond is 240. Gemstones are incredibly common here, especially malachite and goshenite. It's because gemstone-rich islands keep emerging from the gravity nexus and do so with greater frequency than the nutrient-rich islands that the farms and greenhouses would greatly prefer." she explained.

Malchior translated all these denominations in Rorek's head for him, but he knew them already. Raven had explained after he'd pawned that bronze amulet in order to buy her the knife she'd been wanting.

"And these gemstones are the size of one's thumb?" Rorek asked.

"Yes, there's a standard size and cut for these stones that are meant to indicate they are money rather than material or jewelry." Raven explained.

"Are those the only gemstones Azarath produces?"

"Oh no, those are just the most common." she answered.

"Really? How much is gold worth here?" Malchior asked.

"Even more than it is on Earth, since the gravity nexus had yet to produce any islands with that particular metal ore. What gold we have comes from Earth." Damien answered.

"And so how many gemstones could we get with this?" Rorek asked, producing a solid gold coin.

Damien's eyebrows went up, which was quite a bit of expression for him. "Several diamonds at least. Especially if that's pure gold."

"It is."

"Can I buy that off you? I'm going to need something to distract my rather overbearing mother in the near future. What kind of gemstones are you interested in?"

"Blood rubies and diamonds, for preference." Malchior answered. "Though I'm rather fond of malachite, myself."

"I'll get them. You're staying for three days, right?"

"It appears so, yes." Rorek came in.

"Good. I'll have them by the day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Smashing." Malchior said.

"Good luck with your mother." Rorek said. "If she is anything like ours then you are going to need it."

"If she's anything like ours he's going to need a cast-iron frying pan."

"Malchior…"

"And a pair of red-hot slippers,"

"Malchior."

"A set of silver hands,"

"Malchior!"

"Some barbed wire,"

"Are you done yet?"

"And a lot of fire."

"Anyway,"

"Lots and lots of fire."

"That's enough!"

"And mustard."

"You can stop now." Raven cut in.

Damien was chuckling, though. "Alright, the frying pan, red-hot slippers, barbed wire, and fire I think I can understand. But I'm having trouble figuring out why the silver hands and the mustard would be necessary." he admitted.

Raven, who likely knew very well what Malchior was referring to with the mustard, at least, told him, "You don't want to know. It'd take some time to explain."

(O)

They'd had a long day in the gym and it was evening now. Time to get a bath in, check on the kids to make sure they were settling in alright (Marlen Zanith had offered to personally see to their arrangements), reiterate that Melvin's friends were to stay hidden unless otherwise instructed by a Master or Enchanter, get ready for bed, deal with Malchior,

"Malchior, get out of my bed."

"Oh is this your room?"

"You know, if you were a monk or official sorcerer here you could get into a heap of trouble for this. Out."

"Oh very well."

And then get to sleep. She was very tired so this wasn't a problem at all.

(O)

"There's a better way.", "The edge breaks the circle.", "Become like me.", "Time eats his children.", "The edge carves the circle."

"Stop…"

"It's a warning.", "The circle binds the light.", "Know your tools.", "Child of the child of…", "Circle, edge, light.", "You will be me.", "There's a better way. One way for all."

"No, leave me alone!"

"2nd generation.", "The circle magnifies the light.", "Hear me.", "Hide your teeth.", "Time lost wisdom.", "The first escaped.", "The light dulls the edge.", "A protection."

"Stop it! Stop it! There are rules! You said there were rules! Leave me alone!"

"Find the iron of the mind.", "The light sharpens the edge.", "Know your tools.", "Child of the child of Pahmonah…", "It's a warning."

Her eyes fought to open in the dreamscape, fought to open in the real world but she couldn't seem to wake her body. She could still hear the voices. She sat up in her dreamscape bed, feeling as though she was wading through water. She clapped her hands over her ears in an attempt to block the voices but it didn't work. "Stop! Leave me alone!" she cried out.

She felt…something. Something was in her dreamscape. Not just in her dreamscape, but inside the tower, inside Malchior's circle.

"MALCHIOR!" she screamed desperately. But he wasn't there. She hadn't given her permission back to him. She fought to wake up, still hearing the voices. She began to panic. Whatever was here was looking for her. She threw herself out of her bed and tried to get to the window. She felt like she was fighting to get through a tub of gel. "Malchior! Rorek!" she screamed, knowing it would be no use. She had to wake up! Why couldn't she wake up?-!

It was getting closer. Sheer terror was taking over now. Her dreamscape wasn't working the way it should. Why? What was going on?-!

Something was in her dreamscape. It was invading her very mind, trying to find her, trying to take over.

Somewhere down, deeper than the terror and far more powerful, her rage began to rise up. It devoured her fear, devoured her panic, turned her mind into the razor edge of a predator, and it snarled.

"My dreamscape. My rules." said The Other. "First rule: I'm the predator. You're the prey. I hunt. You run. Start now."

But there were strong thoughts fighting to be heard. Thoughts that would not be denied. Flee! they cried. I can't fight a god!

God…the word made her pause. Another snarl. The Other didn't do fear, but there was such a thing as self-preservation. On the other hand, hunting a god could be fun.

It could be death too!

More likely death, she had to admit.

Perhaps waking up would be a good idea now that she had a hold of her own consciousness.

(O)

Raven sat bolt upright in bed. The first thing she did was to make sure she was still her (well, the her that called itself 'Raven' rather than 'The Other' anyway), and the second thing she did was take a look at her dreamscape.

There was a gouge, like a wound, that cut across Malchior's circle, slicing into the roses as it did so. An edge breaks the circle…

And the god was still there. She couldn't see it, but she could definitely feel it. It was still in her dreamscape. Still in her mind. Still looking for her.

(8)

A/N: ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER! Sort of…I think…we'll just call it a cliffhanger anyway!

Coming up in the next chapter:
If you don't stop that the words 'fish brain breath' are going to become implanted in my head.

Old fairy tale references FTW!