A/N: Thank you, fanficaddict, you may want to reread chapter one, though, as I edited it to make it longer.
Thank you too Danie, I'll try to keep it up.
Chapter 2: The Sandman Cometh
"Hey Raven!" Gar said as he entered the common room. It was midday and the other Titans had left to do various things, leaving them all alone in the tower. She looked up at him briefly to acknowledge his presence and returned to her book. He took a deep breath to prepare for the yelling and pummeling that was without doubt about to follow. He sat down next to her, "Uh Raven?"
"What?" she said coldly as he interrupted her book for the second time.
"I know you said it was nothing, but are you sure you're ok? You looked all sweaty and stuff, so I thought… you know…" he stuttered, unsure of the safest way of saying all this to her.
She closed her book realizing that she was not going to be continuing anytime soon. "It was just a dream, and that's all. It wasn't real." She didn't sound too convinced of this herself. Strange men that you've never met before don't usually appear and command that you awaken.
"Well ok, but if you want to talk you know where to find me." Relieved that that he had had this long of a conversation with her without her threatening or glaring at him even once, he walked to the big couch in front of the television and started playing a video game.
She placed her book on the seat and headed for the roof to meditate. It seemed she did that quite a lot after talking to Beast Boy.
When Gar heard the door to the stairs close he, paused the game and turned around. Raven had left her book. He got up and looked at the book, the title read: Good Omens.
Raven reached the roof and locked the door behind her. She moved to the edge and sat cross-legged. "Azarath, metrion, zinthos." She began floating and began her meditation.
Several minutes later she felt a presence behind her. "Go away, Gar, I'm meditating." She felt it getting closer; however she couldn't hear any foot steps.
"Meditation is an interesting state of being isn't it?" said a voice she had only heard once before, in her dreams. "Not quite awake but not quite asleep. In fact there are some that even dream in this state." She turned around and saw the man from her dream.
"Who are you!" The way she said this it sounded more like a threat than a question. Her hands glowed with black energy. "And what were you doing in my dreams!"
"I have many names: King of Dreams, Prince of Dreams, some even call me The Sandman. However if you must call me something, 'Morpheus' will do," he said answering both questions. He looked nothing like an anthropomorphic personification of unconscious musings. The beige t-shirt and jeans he wore were definitely not normally associated with his office. He walked toward her and the tower seemed to melt away leaving them in an endless plain with an eerie sky that looked like an infinite paint stain of dark colours. The scenery was devoid of landscape and the only things present were two chairs and a table. "I hope you do not mind the change in scenery," he said this as if to prove his identity. He sat down in the chair and motioned for her to do the same.
She hesitantly sat down. "So… is this a social call?" she said unsure of whether she hadn't gone completely insane. He closed one hand and held it over the other as sand poured from it. He blew on the sand and it assembled into a kettle and two cups. He took the kettle and filled both cups and began sipping from one.
"No, I am here to help you," Dream said enigmatically.
"Help me do what?" she asked extremely confused.
"Control your strength. You are a very powerful individual Raven. However, you are far from your potential." Dream's words were hard to ignore, not simply because they were true but because they echoed one's subconscious.
"I am in control," she tried to argue. "Most people would have gone insane if they had power like me."
"Merlin didn't," he stated in contradiction. "He had complete control over his power, and at his conception, his daemon father was nowhere near as strong as Trigon was at yours." He let his words sink in. He didn't need to wait long.
"Show me," was the only response she could make.
Meanwhile, in the Baltic country of Zandia, a strange ritual was being prepared. A boy of the age of fourteen stared into the large pit which was covered with red stains from his altar of bones. He closed the book that lay on the altar and stood simply took in the ambience of his surroundings.
The boy was wearing an odd skull for a helmet with fangs that reached his chin. The cloak was pure white, however all other pieces of his uniform of office, were stained red. His iron gauntlets were clawed and had an eerie glow to them; this was not a glow of magic however, but of an electronic device.
An older woman in a cowled cloak, and approached him. "Your holiness," she said while bowing before the child. "The preparations are complete and we await your instructions," she paused before making a suggestion, "Shall we send for your father?"
"No, Mother," he said to his subordinate. The monk dubbed Mother, bowed and backed away leaving her master alone. "I shall acquire the bathwater myself." He grinned malevolently.
A/N: Can anyone guess who the young boy was; I'll give you a hint: his father has already appeared on the show. I'll leave you wondering for now but feel free to tell everyone in a review, I personally would be impressed.