The fight with Hopkins had taken Rosalyn farther away than she realized. She was mildly surprised to see that Stan was waiting for her when she finally got back to where she had left him. He was leaning against a tree, but he stood upright when she approached.

"What happened to Pollack?" she asked, looking around.

Stan shrugged. "I took care of him."

Rosalyn blinked. There was a distinct lack of arrogant mockery in that pronouncement that was rather unnerving. "Um…okay," she said uncertainly. "Well, I'm glad you're okay…"

Stan shrugged again. "Whatever. Let's go."

Rosalyn narrowed her eyes. There was something different about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Other than the lack of scorn, that is. That could be attributed to any number of things. This was something else. She watched him go; it was almost like watching a film negative. "Illisaith?" she called.

He stopped, then turned, grinning. "I was wondering how long I could fool you," he said good-naturedly.

Rosalyn huffed. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. "And where's Stan?"

Illisaith pouted. "What do you care? I'm here, now. You don't need him."

"He could be in trouble," she persisted. "Do you know where he went?"

Illisaith stepped closer to look down at her. "He's fine," he answered quietly. "But I'm here, now. Let's go together and just leave him behind."

Rosalyn did not like the look in his eyes. It reminded her of a rabid dog she had seen once. She took a step away and put her hand on her rapier. "What's with you?" she asked suspiciously. "I know you don't like him, but-"

When he lunged for her this time, she was ready. She leaped back and drew her rapier in one smooth motion. He snarled at having been foiled. "Why won't you hate him like you're supposed to?" he demanded. "I want you to come with me and forget about him."

"Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends!" This wasn't like Illisaith at all. Yes, he was unpredictable, but he had not become violent since that night at the Mirage. Then, suddenly, it hit her: this wasn't Illisaith, either.

He melted to the ground in shadow form and moved underneath her feet. She tried to get away, but he was able to reach up and knock her to ground. Her rapier went flying; she rolled to the side and tried to grab for it, but a shadowy, three-fingered claw caught her wrist. As she tried to break free, the dream incarnation of Illisaith grabbed her other hand and forced it to the murky ground. Rosalyn closed her eyes, but she couldn't turn her head away because of the swamp water. The last thing she needed was to inhale it.

"Get off of me," she said from between clenched teeth.

"You want this, and you know it," he murmured next to her ear.

Rosalyn suddenly remembered that she a second weapon at her disposal, an oversight she would chastise herself for later. She did not like relying on her Hero power; it felt like laziness. Now, however, she had no other choice. "Don't you even try to tell me what I want," she growled in a menacing tone that would have made Stan proud. Summoning her power from the well inside her mind, she gathered it up and shoved it at him, an attack that not only succeeded in knocking him back but caused his form to waver.

Illisaith returned to three dimensions; his face was a mask of insane, mindless rage. "You will pay for that, Hero woman!"

"I didn't want to fight you," she informed him. "But you're not my Illisaith."

"Oh, but I am," he contradicted her. "I'm the demon he never wanted to be. He threw me aside because of you, and now you will die for it!"

Rosalyn didn't have time to reflect on his choice of words because she was too busy dodging his attacks. He threw power at her in wrathful glee, laughing maniacally as she jumped and dodged and ran. She tried to reach her rapier, but a shot landed just in front of her, and she was forced to abandon it for a second time.

"You can't escape me!" the Mirror Evil King screamed as Rosalyn ducked behind a tree to catch her breath. He was nothing like Illisaith, who tried to be decent if not good. He was nothing like Stan, who was usually more inclined to fight with words than actions. His single-minded madness reminded her of Beiloune. She wondered if this was what Stan could have become, or something else entirely. Not that it mattered now.

She heard the sounds of mini-explosions cease and started to lean around to see what was happening. Suddenly, a thick, black smoke materialized before her. She knew that move; it was exactly what happened when Stan teleported somewhere. She gathered her magic together, and the second the Mirror Evil King appeared in the smoke, she threw an arctic blast of ice at him and ran to hide behind a different tree. Without a weapon, this desperate game of hide and seek was her best chance of survival. She didn't dare try to go find it now; it would be suicide to go hunting through that murky water.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," her opponent sang. There was no sanity there. Rosalyn suddenly realized that she could use that to her advantage. This creature's madness made it predictable, unlike the real Illisaith. She grinned as she realized that she could probably use the same tactics against it as she did Stan.

She readied her power and jumped out from behind the tree. "Come and get me, then, you fake evil being!" she yelled and threw her ice spell at him again.

As expected, he roared in wordless fury and started throwing fireballs at her. She ducked and started running again, this time in circles around him. Just like Stan, he preferred to stay stationary whenever possible. As long as Rosalyn was where he could hit her, he was not going anywhere. She called on her Hero power to augment her magic ice and started throwing chunks of it back at her opponent.

"Stan can't beat me," she yelled. "Illisaith can't beat me! What makes you think you can?"

"I WANT to!" he announced joyously.

Rosalyn was saved from having to think about the implication when she tripped over something and hit the ground hard. Pain shot through her leg, but it faded quickly. She hadn't twisted anything. When she looked to see what had tripped her, she grinned. It occurred to her to wonder when she had gotten back over here, but she decided not to dwell on it.

"You're mine, now!" yelled her opponent. He rushed her, intending to finish her off with his bare hands. She held her position until just before he reached her, then grabbed the hilt of her rapier and shoved the blade into his chest.

"I think not," she said scathingly as he gave an enraged howl and vanished. The last remnants of the Mirror Evil King were no more. She healed her ankle where the blade of her rapier had sliced it; it wasn't a bad wound, and she didn't even need to go into a trance to do it. Then she stood breathlessly for a time as she tried to figure out which way Stan would have gone. The murky swamp water left no tracks, and any hints she might have gotten from broken foliage would have long since healed.

"Okay," she muttered. "Pollack was there; Stan was there." She turned to each location in turn. "Stan was backing up, so it's probably a safe bet that he would continue…" She sighed. She had been rather too busy to pay attention at the time, but she didn't think Stan had fought. She was relatively certain she would have heard that. Except that meant… "Oh, my…Stan, did you actually run from a fight?" she asked the empty air. Shaking her head and laughing, she took off in the direction she thought he must have gone.

The lack of animal noises in the swamp was disconcerting. All the trees looked pretty much alike, and Rosalyn couldn't be entirely sure she wasn't just going in circles. Still, she made her slow way past them in the soundless bog, carefully checking everywhere for any sign of her quarry. She kept her rapier at the ready, just in case Incubus decided to send anything else after her while she was alone. She didn't think he would break with pattern, but she didn't want to take the chance.

"Stan, where are you?" she yelled. She didn't expect a response, but she thought she heard some kind of faint rustling noise. Deciding that was as good a direction as any, she followed it. She yelled for Stan again when the noise stopped, and it started up again. After that, she played the strangest game of Marco Polo she had ever been in. She walked aimlessly around yelling for her comrade and listening for the response for a long time. Several times she thought she had found him, only to find that she walked past him somehow. Finally, however, she succeeded in pinpointing his location.

She covered her mouth to stifle her laughter at the sight of a gaudy purple bottle rattling around in some foliage as though possessed. She leaned down and said, "Now I think I like this idea. Maybe I'll just leave you in there."

The bottle stopped shaking while she spoke. Once she finished, it rocked violently towards her and toppled over, then rolled around for a bit until she picked it up. She couldn't quite hear him, but she didn't have to know that he was calling her every foul name in the book and quite a few that weren't. She grinned. "You know," she began. Stan stopped again. "If you would just be nice to me once in a while, I might actually consider letting you out of there."

Stan hit the inside of the bottle so hard that he nearly knocked it out of her hand. "Alright! Alright! Geeze, if you're going to pout…" She pulled the stopper off of the bottle and Stan came rushing out, taking care to knock her over as he did so. He reformed in his shadow form behind her.

"It took you long enough!" he yelled at the top of his voice. He raked the air for emphasis. "Do you have any idea what I've been through while you were playing around?"

"Do I care?" Rosalyn grumbled, standing.

Stan narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I should shove you in there some time and see how you like it."

Rosalyn laughed derisively. "I just beat off dream versions of Hero Hopkins and Illisaith, single-handedly. I would love to see you try." She replaced the stopper on the bottle and tossed it to the ground, then strutted past Stan in her best imitation of him until he chuckled evilly.

"You have nightmares about Illisaith?" he asked pleasurably.

She had never been happier to be ambushed by vampires in her life.