Everything was dark. There was no sight, no sound, no feeling. Then a bright flash of light intruded upon the nothingness, and the world slowly faded into focus. Stan and Rosalyn exchanged glances, and took in their surroundings.
They were in a swamp, ankle deep in muck. Lichen-covered trees were the only features of the dark quagmire. There were no islands, no roots poking out of the murk. Nothing moved.
Stan grinned. "Feels like home."
Rosalyn rolled her eyes. "Yep," she said. "This is a nightmare, all right. Where are we going?"
Stan looked around and shrugged. "Well, I would say we go towards that giant tree over there." He gestured into the distance where a dark mass that could only be described as a giant tree could just barely be seen. Without waiting for Rosalyn, he started slogging towards it. She hastened to follow.
"Hey, wait up! Star said we should stay together."
"That oversized lightning bug says a lot of things. If you want to stick together, then keep up."
Rosalyn huffed. "Oh, yeah. Stuck in a swamp with you. This is definitely my idea of a nightmare."
Stan smirked. "You are a nightmare, woman."
A low rumbling interrupted them. They froze, ready for battle, until well after it had stopped. "What was that?" Rosalyn murmured.
"You tell me, dishwater Hero."
"And what makes you so certain it's my nightmare?"
Stan drew himself up and said, in as egotistical a tone as he could, "I don't have nightmares. I fear nothing."
Rosalyn was reminded of the unfathomable fear she had seen in his eyes when he had nearly disappeared. She very nearly reminded him of that, but he would only come up with several, earsplitting reasons why she was stupid to think he could possibly have been scared. She was not in the mood to deal with his prattling; she wanted to save Ari if it was still possible.
Suddenly, a giant reptilian creature strode into view from around a tree. It resembled a cross between a chicken and an iguana, and was the size of a small house. Stan grinned. "Hey, I remember this one! Stupid chicken tried to take a bite out of me!" He laughed at the memory.
Any reply Rosalyn might have made was drowned out when the thing screamed in a voice that made shivers go down her spine. It leaned forward, opened its scaly, vestigial wings, and charged. Rosalyn and Stan dodged to either side as the Jurassic chicken rushed past them and stumbled to a stop. It squawked and whirled to pounce at Stan, who arrogantly cast a blaze spell at it. As it flapped and squawked with pain, Rosalyn lunged forward through the flailing wings and shoved her rapier deep into its chest. It screeched in agony; Rosalyn was forced to abandon her rapier in favor of escaping with her life as the creature attempted to bite her head off. It burst into flame again and, with one last screech, fell backward. The murky swamp water put the fire out, but the giant chicken didn't move again.
"That was a chicken…?" Rosalyn muttered, out of breath.
"It was a demon chicken," Stan scoffed. "Your turn."
Rosalyn shook her head. "And why should I tell you what scares me?"
"Because I'm going to find out anyway, airhead!" he pointed out. "We might as well be prepared for it."
Difficult logic to argue with…"I used to be scared of spiders," she sighed as she retrieved her rapier. "And snakes. But I'm not anymore!"
Stan chuckled. "We'll see…"
He was insufferable as always. Rosalyn looked at Stan out of the corner of her eyes. She could not believe she was actually working with him to save Ari. It wasn't so much the "working with him" part, either. It was the "to save Ari" part that kept getting to her. She was half-tempted to ask again why he cared, but she knew she would never get a straight answer out of him.
"Rosalyn!" shouted a male voice. She jumped and turned guiltily.
"D-daddy?" she whimpered slightly.
"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" A massive, shadowy giant stood in front of her; she cowered.
"I wasn't doing anything, daddy! I swear it!"
"You think you can lie to me?" the thing roared. It reached back an arm like a tree trunk and swung right at Rosalyn's head. She squealed and cringed, but the blow never connected. A black shadow reared up before Rosalyn and caught it.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hit a lady?" Stan sneered. He twisted the giant's arm until it nearly came off. The thing roared and vanished. He changed back to his true form and raised an eyebrow in question.
"Like I'm going to tell you," Rosalyn answered. She held the fist that was not clutching her rapier up to her heart as she steadied her nerves. Her father was the reason she became a Hero. She wanted to stop people like him from hurting innocents like her mother.
Not that she would ever say that aloud to Stan.
"Like I'd want you to, anyway," Stan said scathingly as he turned to go. He had a feeling he already knew. "Oh, by the way," he said, turning slightly back toward Rosalyn without stopping. "I don't owe you anything," he sneered.
Rosalyn looked after him, torn between laughter and outrage. Finally, as she hastened to catch up, she grinned. "Guess that means I'm not your slave anymore, huh?"
"Ha! Guess again, fat butt! Just like Ari, you are my slave for life!"
"Yeah, or not!" she replied. "I saved your life, you fake evil being."
Stan growled. "I could have managed just fine on my own!"
"A pathetic weakling like you?" The speaker stepped out from behind a tree and adopted a familiar pose of egotistical superiority. It was a man with pointed ears, yellow eyes, and jet-black hair. He was as tall as Stan, and his finely chiseled bone structure and dark features proved who he was better than any paternity test. Rosalyn raised her rapier and sneaked a glance at Stan. His eyes were narrowed, and he was already grinding his teeth.
"Look at you," the dream version of Stan's father continued caustically. "Associating with Heroes? Gallivanting off to rescue some foolish human child? You never change."
There was lightning playing across Stan knuckles. Rosalyn took a few steps away so as not to be caught in the blast zone that was sure to follow. "You are nothing but an image from my mind," Stan said from between clenched teeth.
"If you believe that, you're even more stupid than I gave you credit for," replied his father.
"You are three hundred years dead," Stan informed him. "And good riddance!"
"Stanley, you're pathetic," his father said, pointedly ignoring that remark. "How you got to be Shadow King instead your brother, I'll never know."
"You dare-" He broke off with great effort and closed his eyes. "You're not real. You're not even there. I'm arguing with a ghost."
"Oh, I'm a ghost, now, am I? When are you going to admit that you're nothing but a second rate moron with delusions of grandeur?"
"Unforgivable! How dare you insult moi, Evil King Stan?"
His father crossed his arms and smirked. "You're all talk. Show me what you've learned in three hundred years."
Stan was shaking with rage; even long dead, his father had the ability to make him so angry he literally saw red. If his father wanted a show, he'd get one. Without bothering to think of the possible consequences, Stan drew on all his power and threw it in raw form at his father. The resulting explosion left a good-sized crater in the swamp and drove Stan, exhausted and out of breath, to his knees.
Rosalyn looked at the slowly fading crater and back at Stan. She was truly afraid to go near him, but she needed to do something. He seemed to be on the verge of passing out. "Uh…are you going to be okay?" she asked tentatively.
He nodded slightly but said nothing.
Rosalyn looked around; there didn't seem to be anything around to attack them. She suddenly realized that her Hero sense wasn't working; she had not known any of those things were about to attack. She couldn't even sense Stan, here, which was actually kind of a blessing. She carefully sidled closer to him. She was about to ask if he needed help, but thought better of it. Just because he seemed to be exhausted did not necessarily mean that he wouldn't try to kill her; he was clearly still enraged by his father's appearance.
"Is there anything I can do…?" she asked at last. It seemed to be the safest way to phrase the question.
Stan muttered something then shook his head slightly and repeated himself. "I'm not…an invalid…"
"I can honestly believe that," she assured him. She paused, then decided to try some Ari-style tactics. "I'm just saying…if there was anything I could do to make it easier…since you obviously don't need help…" She trailed off as Stan turned his head slightly to glare. "Never mind," she finished.
Stan closed his eyes again. He was fighting a loosing battle with his consciousness. He internally berated himself for his stupidity and wished Rosalyn would keep talking. It had actually seemed to help keep him awake. Or aware, at least. The last thing he wanted was to pass out in front of his worst enemy. It wouldn't be quite as bad as being forced to borrow her shadow, but it would still be pretty humiliating.
Rosalyn shifted her weight and looked around again. She thought she saw movement in the distance, but she couldn't go check it out with Stan-
A wet thump caused her to whirl, rapier at the ready, but there was nothing there. She looked down to see that Stan had fallen over, and tried to restrain her laughter. "You really are a moron, you know?" she informed his unconscious body as she rolled him onto his back. She wasn't sure if he could drown here, but it never hurt to be too careful, after all.
The swamp was even creepier without Stan to take her mind off of it. She drew her rapier; although she didn't feel any safer, she was ready should she be attacked. Something moved again, and this time she was sure of it. It was a lot closer, just a simple parting of the water, quickly gone. Rosalyn slowly moved into a defensive stance. She was afraid she knew what was coming.
In her younger years at the Hero Academy, Rosalyn had managed to make enemies of the two most popular girls. It had been a classic teen-aged grudge started by nothing and facilitated by nothing. For some reason, Rosalyn had simply gotten on their nerves. She suspected that her name had been drawn from a hat.
One day, in order to make of fool of her, the two girls had pushed her into a river. There had been laughter, there had been tears, and there had been a cottonmouth snake that no one saw. Rosalyn had not been hurt; she had run screaming the second it brushed her leg. But she had nightmares about it for the rest of the week. She had eventually outgrown her fear of snakes. Apparently, Incubus did not care.
A giant, triangular head emerged from the swamp water, far larger than could have been successfully hidden beneath the surface. The great serpent opened its gaping maw to reveal two fangs easily as long as Rosalyn's rapier, and lunged. She was forced to abandon her post guarding Stan, but the creature wasn't interested in him anyway. It coiled its massive body and struck again. Rosalyn dodged a second time and swung a glancing blow at the side of the creature's head.
She backed slowly away as the thing coiled around, reared back its head, and struck. Although she had long since overcome her fear of snakes, fighting this giant serpent was starting to awaken her old phobia. It took all her courage to hold her ground until the last second; fortunately, her aim was unaffected. Rosalyn was a professional, after all, and used to dealing with scary situations.
She shoved her rapier through the roof of its mouth while twisting between its fangs. They brushed her skin, alarmingly close, but even when the creature jerked back in pain, she managed to remain unhurt. It shook its head violently and turned to hiss, but as it reared back to lunge again, a thick frost suddenly coated its eyes.
Rosalyn spared a moment for a vicious grin as her childhood nightmare cast about, directionless and blind, in a futile attempt to find her. Rather than give it the benefit, she used her Hero power to augment her ice magic and encased its head in a block of ice. It thrashed around madly and slammed its head into the ground, the trees, itself. Not only did the ice refuse to crack, it was quickly creeping down the serpent's body. Before long, the creature had become nothing more than a snake-shaped ice sculpture.
Rosalyn lowered her arm and leaned against a nearby tree to catch her breath and watch as all signs of the battle faded. "See?" she said triumphantly to Stan's inert form. "You're not the only one who can use magic."
Illisaith finished off a pair of weak, rabbit-type ghosts and turned back to Star. She was still humming, and apparently completely out of touch with the rest of the world. The sound had been pretty at first, but it had started to grate on his nerves. At least, Ari seemed to have regained some color, for all the good it did him. Without his mind, his body would die soon. Star was trying to stave that moment off, but she could not keep it up forever.
"Star," Illisaith called. There was no response, but he didn't really expect one. "He'll be fine for a little while, at least. You need to take a break before you burn yourself out."
He did not expect her to actually stop, and he was not disappointed. He sighed and resumed his station next to Rosalyn's sleeping form. It occurred to him that she looked like an angel, lying there. The demon in the back of his mind demanded that he take advantage of the situation, and he squashed it. That was not who he was anymore. He smiled.