~AN~ Oh my, so many things to do!

Bass: *whap*

I'm NOT gonna babble, so BACK OFF!!

Bass: No.

Rrgh. 'Hem. Anyway, reviewer business…first off, since it's the most important, cookie business!

Bass: *slaps forehead*

Lesse, Tier needs another one, but then NightSky might feel left out…oh, heck. *hands Insomnia a plate of Hamentaschen cookies*

Insomnia: *begins passing out Hamentaschen to all reviewers present*

Thanks ever so much for your kind words, Molly. It's my dream to someday become a writer; your encouragement means so much to me!

Nix, sorry, but this chapter's also kinda short---so, to make it up to you, I'll put up two at once. ^_^ Sorry you had to get up early. I myself woke up at five this morning….-- Urg.

(Oh yes---and the 'Impending Sense Of Doom' gave me a laugh.)

There, business is done. Enjoy, all!

Disclaimer: For once, I'm actually---drum roll, please---putting a DISCLAIMER here! *half of the muses faint in shock* I forgot to mention this earlier, but several of the songs Morgan sings in this story are lyrics from Enya, not myself. She owns them, not me. One is my own, something I wrote when I was ten and living in Iceland. I own that. It came from my mind, which was taken over by little purple men a long time ago. They own me.

In a dark time, the eye begins to see,

I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;

I hear my echo in echoing wood---

A lord of nature weeping to a tree…

A steady storm of correspondences!

A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,

And in broad day the midnight come again!

A man goes far to find out what he is---

Death of the self in a long, tearless night,

All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.

In A Dark Time, by Dylan Thomas

Chapter Nineteen:

The Storm Breaks

It was time.

The clouds were changing from grey to black, folding into giant piles of darkness. Thunder rumbled nearby, and lightening could be seen in brief flashes as it jumped from one cloud to the next. The winds were high.

The entire first-level population of Nightmare was assembled within the courtyard, trying to brace themselves against the wind that whipped about their cloaks and lashed their hair against their faces. Inside Wizeman's throne room the leaders waited, standing about in various states of readiness. Clawz was pacing quietly at one end of the room; Puffy was nervously tapping her fingers against her wrist; Gulpo, as always, floated calmly, not even bothering to keep his eyes open.

Gillwing stood nearer to their ruler's throne, and Jackle stood next to him, leaning against the giant nightmaren's side. The two had been reunited briefly before being summoned to the throne room, and their meeting had been a pleasant one. Jackle was happy to see his loyal friend again and enjoyed their conversation immensely. Gillwing enjoyed it as well; he did not see the difference in Jackle that the others had picked up. To him, Jackle was still Jackle.

The other High Seekers had already begun to suspect that something was different. Reala half believed NiGHTS, who was sure that Jackle was now officially unstable. Puffy only knew that there was something vaguely unsettling about the demi-maren, as if he were half living in another world. Clawz sensed a disturbing difference in Jackle's personality but couldn't quite put his paw on it. Gulpo knew at once what was wrong, but being Gulpo he didn't bother sharing.

However right now no one was pondering unstable demi-maren. It was time for something bigger to happen.

Outside, the winds wrestled in the air, and lightening bolts warred in the angry clouds.

It was time. The storm was breaking.

NIGHTS swallowed as he opened the door of the cage; a small cage, one that was perched on top of a tall column and hidden in the deep shadows of the recesses behind Wizeman's throne. The space around it was chaotically unrealistic; far ahead at the front of the room Wizeman's throne could be seen, and windows opened on both sides, but behind them and around them the walls seemed to stretch out into infinite space. Galaxies twinkled at the corners of their eyes, fading into painted stars once looked at head-on. The cages were only partially realistic things, thrown together carelessly by a preoccupied ruler.

The captive stepped out into his arms obediently. He winced as those stunningly blue eyes traveled up to meet his own, and had to turn away. Why did her eyes have to look so much like Reala's?…

"Come on," he murmured, shooting a glance over to where his brother was freeing the other prisoner.

Reala nodded sharply to the boy. "Follow me."

The boy looked up quietly, leaving his cage as ordered and closing his eyes when Reala grabbed his arms. The general ignored the boy's silence and brought him down to the floor of the room, pushing him ahead roughly. "Come on."

NiGHTS led his captive along beside, trying not to meet her eyes. Ahead of them, he could hear Wizeman speaking to the others; his master's voice was strangely muted in his ears, as if he were listening from far away.

All he could make out was the general lines. Wizeman seemed to be speaking about the campaign to come; something about the Clock Tower being the door to reality. The High Seekers gathered about were looking up at him quietly. NiGHTS found himself studying them; Puffy, standing to one side, her hands toying nervously with the necklaces strung about her neck. Clawz, crouched in a calm yet versatile pose, ready to drop an insult or leap out of danger with but a word, gazing up at their ruler with hooded eyes that did not reveal his interest. Gulpo, floating silently, absorbed in his water world and only listening to Wizeman's words as if he were humoring him. Gillwing, sitting stretched out at length, his honest, stupid eyes looking up with a willingness to please. Jackle, leaning against his giant friend's side, arms folded and one hand playing with a razor-edged card, his eyes jumping about the room and his mouth curved into a small smile. The demi-maren's eyes darted to meet his gaze, and for a moment they melted into a strange intelligence; then he looked away, and began playing with his card again.

And Reala. His brother floated beside him, silent, looking ahead at their master with eyes that were full of pride and power. His body moved with a sleek, muscle-bound stride, every movement vibrating with strength and demanding respect. His face was strikingly white, framed in a vibrant thickness of red and black, and his mouth was carved into a jagged smirk of success. His eyes were ice.

He wasn't Reals any more. He was Reala, the Nightmaren General.

NiGHTS closed his eyes, feeling dizzy. A kaleidoscope of thoughts and images were whirling through his head; a storm of memories and ideas. Thoughts that had been gathering in the distance were coming together.

' "It just doesn't sound fun…what if he's wrong?"---shadows all around---"I assume you had another reason for coming here besides doing a fairly good impression of a seven-year-old?"---waking to a dream---"No, just wanted to say goodnight"---lost in a strange world---"Don't call me that!"---running, running from a dark cloud---"Miss Luna!"---unable to fly, unable to fight---'They need more time…'---feeling shadow reach into his very being---"Your eyes are pretty"---and pulling out---'Her eyes are like Reala's…'---an Ideya…'

And suddenly the dream made sense.

"W-what's he gonna do to us?"

The boy answered the girl quietly, his voice soft. "Don't worry, ma'am. This's just a dream. Pretty soon we'll both wake up."

"That's the whole point, stupid!" Reala. His brother was speaking, his voice full of the flush of success. "You'll wake up all right---after Wizeman's remade reality into one big, living nightmare!"

The girl gasped, staring as Reala flew ahead to inform his master that all was ready; then, she turned to face him, her hands clasped in a begging gesture. "Mister NiGHTS? Please, you gotta do something quick!"

He jerked back, staring at her, staring at those cursed blue eyes that were his brother's. "B-but I'm one of the bad guys…" 'Where did that come from? Bad guys?'

"No, you're not! I…I can see it in your eyes---there's so much more inside of you!"

Her words were the melting point. Slow trains of ideas that had come to being long ago, turned into secret knowledge and then hidden in the corners of consciousness, rumbled within the cloudy masses of thought. Realizations that had been hidden within the boiling fog of his mind, leaping from one thought to the next but never sparking into flame, jolted out, streaking across his mind with white flashes of knowing light. And it all came together, each part melding with the others to form the whole, breaking free in one great, blinding flash.

The storm had broken.