Ari, being the considerate boy that he was, had left the lights on for Stan. This did not affect his ability to fall asleep in the slightest; he was mentally and physically exhausted, and more than ready for sleep. It was concern that kept him awake. He was afraid to apologize because he didn't know how Stan would react. Finally, however, he did drift off. Stan waited about an hour longer before he came back out and quietly appropriated an armchair.

Stan did not need sleep. At least, not tonight. His need for sleep was dependant entirely upon his power level, which was at its fullest. Consequently, he was restless. After staring at his slave reproachfully for what had to have been three days, but probably was not, he quietly got up and paced the room. He was half-tempted to go pick a fight with Rosalyn, but the sounds of muffled shouting coming from down the hall nixed that idea. Someone very annoying had already beaten him to it. He sighed heavily and sat down to stare at Ari some more.

He wanted to think about what the boy had said, but his mind kept shying away from the subject. He did not have an inferiority complex, damn it! He certainly didn't feel threatened by anyone, but especially not that stupid, fat-butted Hero woman!

The boy did make some viable points, however. Stan was all talk, even he had to admit that. Not counting the fight with Rosalyn that had leveled the bottom level of Madril, he couldn't remember the last time he had actually destroyed something. And now that his attention had been brought to this fact, he had to wonder what had happened to him.

Three hundred years ago, he had been well on his way to being as famous as his predecessor Evil King Gohma. It had actually come down to a fight between him and his older brother. Everyone knew beyond any shadow of doubt who the Evil King was going to be.

Stan stopped. He thought for a moment. He creased his eyes in concentration.

I don't even remember his name… he thought. My own brother, and I don't remember his name. I remember I hated him…did it start with a "J"…? Or was it a "K"…? Or am I even on the right side of the alphabet?

Stan was disturbed by this, but he pushed it out of mind.

He had been sitting on top of a silver bookshelf, sulking. Out of some strange twist of fate, he was the Shadow King despite not being the eldest, yet his brother was going to get to be the Great Evil King and go out to try his luck at ruling the mortal realms. That's what the Master had decreed, despite the fact that Stan had been in the mortal realms learning about them for the past twelve years. He knew all about humans, he was the strongest of the Shadow Demons, and he would have just been a better choice all around.

Jack! That was it! Stan grinned triumphantly.

Anders had brought an old man to meet him. The man wasn't as old as Anders, but he was still pretty old. He gave no name, but simply launched into his spiel.

"I don't know you," he said. "And you don't know me. Let's keep it that way. I have a proposition for you."

"I'm listening," Stan responded suspiciously. He thought the old man seemed like he was up to evil deeds, after all.

"You know your brother was chosen by the Master. What if I were to tell you that it doesn't matter?" The old man stopped as though waiting for a response; when Stan only narrowed his eyes, the man shrugged and continued. "I represent a small group of select people, humans and demons both, who stand in opposition to the Master. Gohma was part of our group…"

Suddenly, the old man had Stan's full attention. He jumped down from the shelf to glare arrogantly. "Really?" he asked.

"Yes. And I come to you now because I believe you are his reincarnation."

Stan smiled very slowly. "I think I like you, old man. What do I have to do?"

"Defeat your brother in battle, then destroy the gate to the Diablerie." The first part was no problem. As he considered whether or not to object to second part, the old man added, "Otherwise, the Master will simply choose someone else to come here, and you'll have to fight them off, too."

Stan glared at the old man a moment longer, then nodded. "Done!"

And done. Killing Jack had been no problem whatsoever. It was something Stan had been planning to do for some, but had been far too busy. Jack had been the eldest, after all; it was just the way they did things. Breaking the Stone Circle and ensuring that no one else could challenge him had been quite satisfying. The trouble had started after all of that.

The old man, whom he had since surmised must have been Pollack, had failed to mention that the Hero he would be fighting would be Hopkins. Stan had assumed that the human King would find a new Hero, someone young whom the Princess could marry. The old man had failed to tell him that there was no Princess, although Stan probably would have known if he had paid more attention to current events instead of history. Close to thirty years had passed since Gohma had kidnapped her, and she had never been found. Instead, the King himself was to pray at the Aquatic Ruins. Well, no matter. Royalty was royalty, after all, and one human looked pretty much like another to Stan.

The old man had failed to mention that Hopkins would be waiting. It hadn't gone well, and Stan had quite forcibly learned lesson number one: Never let your guard down around an old person. He had spent three hundred years alone in a bottle because of that mistake.

That's the problem, he thought angrily. I sat around doing nothing for so long that I've become soft. It's all his fault.

He glared at Ari and thought about waking him up to chew him out for it, but discarded that notion. If it hadn't been for Ari, he'd still be stuck in that bottle, after all. But being around Ari so much had skewed his perspective slightly. The boy's lack of a Classification had affected the people he'd been around, and Stan most of all, being the closest to him. Oh, he was still evil, of that there was no doubt. He was an Evil King, and he would always be one. It wasn't his thought process or personality that changed, or his conviction. He had simply started to wonder…why?

He had never thought about why before. It was simply what it was. However, "because" had ceased to satisfy as an answer to life, the universe, and everything. He wanted to know why he was what he was, and why it had always felt vaguely like he wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing. Not that the answer would really have mattered; he was Evil King Stan. He did whatever he wanted no matter what anyone had to say on the subject. He just wanted to know.

He still didn't have an answer, but at least the feeling that he was doing something wrong had vanished with Classification.

He glanced irritably at the clock and willed it to move faster. Perversely, it seemed to slow instead. He thought about rousing his slave and leaving, then changed his mind. He still needed Star to get them into the Diablerie.

A sharp squeal from down the other side of the hall nearly sent him investigating, then he decided he just didn't care what anyone else was doing right now and went back to glaring at Ari. After a while, he threw himself against the back of the chair and tried to sleep simply to pass the time. It didn't work out. Eventually, however, time did pass, as it often does.

He stood up and brushed his clothes out, checked the clock, and decided that Ari had slept plenty long enough. He smacked the boy lightly on the shoulder.

"Kid," he said. "Boy! Ari! Get up!"

Ari mumbled something unintelligible and rolled over.

"Damn it, slave! Obey your master!"

Ari mumbled something probably not very nice and rolled back over to glare at Stan, who was looking very triumphant indeed. "See? I have to call you slave. It's the only time you answer me."

Ari blinked in confusion, then the events of the day before crept out into the sunlight of his conscious mind. "Stan!" he exclaimed happily. "You're talking to me again!"

Stan scoffed. "Of course, I'm talking to you. How do you expect me to command you if I'm not talking to you? Now, get up. We have traitors to subjugate."

"…Stan, it's five A.M."

"Master Stan, Ari. If I'm going to call you by your name, you are damn well going to call me 'master'."

"Yes, Master Stan," Ari acknowledged in amused resignation. They'd been through this before; it never lasted long.

Stan folded his arms and faced the other direction while Ari tumbled out of bed and attempted to locate his shirt and vest. He looked at the ground; there was one other thing…

"Not that I would ever give you a choice in the matter," Stan began. "But, hypothetically, assuming you did have a choice whether or not to be my slave, what would you do?"

Ari thought about that while he buckled on his sword. It was something he'd thought about before, but never in a way that he would say aloud to Stan. He had never expected the question to even come up. Finally, he answered. "I said I'd be your slave for life. I don't go back on my word."

"Good! Because if you wanted to leave, you'd have a problem, wouldn't you?"

Stan was definitely feeling better. It had been a strange past several days, but hopefully, everything was completely and undeniably back to normal, this time.

A loud banging on the door sent Rosalyn stumbling out of bed. She grabbed her rapier to brandish as she answered the door. "Ari? It is five o'clock in the morning."

"This was not my fault," Ari objected, backing quickly away from the crazy woman with the sword.

"Get up, woman!" Stan yelled, stepping in front of his slave. "We're burning daylight!"

"What daylight?" Rosalyn demanded. "There is no daylight to burn yet."

The sound of a bell chiming from the other end of the hall cut them off. As one, they turned to glare at Star, who hid behind the open door, still giggling.

Stan started to say something, but Rosalyn held up her hand. "No, shh! I don't want to hear it! I'm up; I'm up." She slammed the door, but he could still hear her muttering about not being able to go back to sleep now anyway.

Ari was leaning against the wall, already half asleep again. When Stan turned, he roused himself and rubbed his eyes. Down the hall, Illisaith, arms folded, strutted out of his room with Star hovering behind him. "You know, two more hours wouldn't have killed you," he said reproachfully.

"I was bored," Stan answered. "Not that I have to explain myself to a copy like you."

"Fine, yes, that's great, Stan," Rosalyn mumbled, exiting her own room. "I am so not in the mood for this right now. Can we just go? I cannot believe it is five fifteen in the morning. You had better be buying the coffee, you stupid fake evil being…"

Stan happily launched into a litany of Rosalyn's faults while she complained about him, the time, the sun, life in general… Ari grinned tiredly as he fell in behind his master. Illisaith exchanged an amused glance with Star as the two followed. "If this is normal for these two, I don't think we're going to survive."

"You get used to it," Ari informed him. "Trust me; it's when they're not arguing that you have to worry."

"It is not very pleasant…" Star observed in confusion. "Yet…they seem joyous."

Ari nodded. "Yeah, that's Ros and Stan for you."

"Master Stan, slave," Stan corrected him before continuing with his argument.

"Sorry, Your Majesty."

This was going to be a good day. He could feel it.