Upon the defeat of Beiloune, the World Library, devoid of power, had slid into a deep chasm on the northern side of the Highlands. The huge granite structure had been all but destroyed by its fall. A few bits and pieces were still somewhat intact, but for the most part, it had been reduced to so much rubble. The spells that kept the books preserved had failed, and they had rotted away as their true age came upon them.
In the midst of all the debris, there was one thing that did stand out. It might have been a room at one time; now, it more closely resembled a tomb. The door, made of granite, featured an ornate crest. One side was white and the other was black, but where there should have been a definite line between the two, the colors blurred together to become silver or grey. The symbol was surrounded by a grey sunburst. Few people knew what it meant any more, but Mirror Stan did, and he loathed see it crushed.
The door had been blasted from the inside, as though something within had been desperate to escape. Concerned, James shoved past Mirror Stan, who mimed throttling him behind his back.
Inside, the damage was a testament to the prisoner's desperation. There were monitors, gears, wires, and buttons strewn everywhere, but the focal point of the room was in the very center behind a smashed console. It was a glass tube, or had been once. It appeared to have been shattered from the inside.
"Now, what happened here?" James muttered. He knew this room was the center of power for the World Library and Classification, but he hadn't really known what to expect. It looked as though something had been held in there, and had broken out. But that implied that it was alive, which it couldn't be.
Could it?
A snapping noise brought an end to his ruminations, and he turned. "Oh, what is it now, slave?" he demanded.
Mirror Stan looked decidedly smug as he gestured at something outside. An all-to-familiar voice called out, "Hey, James!"
It was like a rash that just wouldn't go away. How they knew he would be coming here was beyond him, but he had a pretty good idea. "This was your doing, wasn't it?" Mirror Stan shrugged, but his expression said it all. James rushed passed him to see Stan, Ari, and Rosalyn standing a mere dozen feet away ready for a fight. It was on his tongue to ask why Mirror Stan hadn't attacked them, but he bit it off in favor of, "Don't just stand there! Kill them!"
"Now, that's no way to greet an old 'friend', is it?" Stan asked ironically. "I just thought you'd like to know that his name…"
Mirror Stan stopped short and held his breath.
"…is Illisaith."
There seemed to be a moment when the whole world just stopped in expectation. The newly christened Illisaith smiled slowly, and it was full of malevolent glee. "What nonsense is this?" James asked, more perplexed than angry.
"Oh didn't you know?" Stan grinned maliciously. "Images are only…controllable because they aren't real."
"Name a thing and you give it life," Illisaith finished, turning. As far as first words went, he thought that was nice and dramatic. In a perfect mirror of Stan's gloating expression, he continued, "I've been waiting a long time for this."
James had been threatened before, many times. He was the Evil Butler, after all, assistant to countless Evil Kings before now; death threats came with the turf. He had worked for some of the most ruthless, violent demons ever to walk the mortal realms, and he had always been able to rely on the smug certainty that he was indispensable. He had gotten just a hair nervous on more than one occasion but had never had to fear for his life.
He was afraid now.
The look of pure, joyful rage on Illisaith's face would have scared Stan, had he been able to see it. As it was, he had a pretty good idea what his mirror image was thinking. He would have been thinking the same thing. "You're in trouble now, James," he laughed.
"Are you actually going to just stand there and let him have all the fun?" Ari asked quietly. Rosalyn, wondering the same thing, turned half of her attention to the answer.
Stan shrugged. "Why not? He deserves it." Catching the amazed expression on Rosalyn's face, he grinned. "Besides. I've always wanted to watch myself work."
"You really are stupid," Rosalyn said in disgust, earning a snide smirk.
At the same time, Illisaith was advancing on James. "Get rid of me, will you?" he growled. "Use me? Treat me like a common servant? I am going to tear you limb from limb!" With a wordless roar of fury, he lunged for James' throat, intending to rip his head off. James managed to dodge by throwing himself backward, but he was too slow to escape unscathed; Illisaith caught him by one horn and snapped it in half.
"Just make it easy on yourself and hold still," he said as he threw the fragment to the ground.
James may have tried to answer, but all that came out was a terrified whine. He desperately wished that he hadn't given Natasha all the power they leeched from the Magic Square. In a last ditch effort to escape, he gathered his power and cast his teleportation spell. Illisaith was less than half a foot away by the time it took effect, but James did succeed in his egress.
At the top of his lungs, Illisaith yelled several words that should not be repeated, moved from there into a litany of James' ancestry, and finished with a recitation of body positions that were probably anatomically impossible. With a wordless growl, he whirled to face Stan, who apparently thought that was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.
"Stanley…shut…up," Rosalyn said through her teeth. She raised her rapier and nodded at Ari to do the same. They both clearly expected the enraged Image to attack, but he relaxed slightly and snarled.
In a quieter but no less irate tone of voice he said, "Glad you found that so amusing."
"Oh, it was," Stan laughed. "Too bad you didn't catch him. I could have, of course."
"No, you couldn't have!" Illisaith argued. "You can't even catch that bloated hog over there when she's standing still!"
"Hey!" Rosalyn yelled uselessly.
"Well, at least I don't go around getting myself thrown into servitude by clods like James!"
"Oh, no, you just get yourself imprisoned in the stupidest places. Like bottles and mirrors."
Stan's eyes flashed with rage, but so did Illisaith's. It is surprisingly difficult to match wits with oneself. "You…insipid imposter! The only reason you even exist is because of me!"
"You're the insipid one, you incompetent jackass!" He laughed viciously. "No wonder you can't conquer the world. You're the Evil King of Incompetent Jackasses."
It might have gone on for considerably longer if Rosalyn hadn't chosen that moment to mutter, "Great. Just what I need: Stan in stereo."
"I resent that!" Illisaith exclaimed. "I am not him, you washbowl woman!"
"Could have fooled me."
"Okay!" Ari said before Stan could join in again and make matters even worse. He was given three rankled glares for his trouble, and ignored them all. "We still have people to deal with, remember?"
"Oh yeah," Stan muttered.
"Well, it's your problem, now," Illisaith said. "I'm gone."
"Fine by me," Rosalyn told him. "I can barely stand one of you; I don't think I could take two."
"Just don't go too far," Stan said menacingly. "As soon as I deal with certain traitors, I'm coming back for you. I don't like to share."
"Neither do I," his counterpart agreed. "One of us has got to go."
"But later," they said in unison, narrowing their eyes.
"Okay, that's getting really irritating," Rosalyn grumbled. "I'm out of here. Come on, Ari."
"Hey!" Stan yelled, turning away. "You don't tell my slave what to do!"
"He's not your slave, you stupid fake evil being!"
Ari had heard this particular argument too many times to count; he hesitated a moment longer. Illisaith drew himself up and returned Ari's gaze. He gave a curt nod, then turned and walked in the other direction. The sheer lack of mockery or irony was astounding, and Ari wondered if Illisaith was really as much like Stan as he seemed to be.
Unbeknownst to any of them, a strange kind of creature watched from a distance. It had once loved people; now, it could no longer bring itself to trust them. It had been betrayed one too many times. Still, it followed after Illisaith. After all, he had recently escaped a prison much like the creature's own. Perhaps, he could be trusted. It so wanted a friend.