Bobby's spirit shot over the vast, ever-changing landscape of Solara.
Below him, seemingly endless green fields would suddenly become rolling sand dunes, with intricate, pyramid-like structures dotting the surface. It would just as soon become dense, bright green jungle, then all at once it would appear as though they were gliding through an ocean, an infinite, brightly colored coral reef stretching out as far as the eye could see. Spirits of Solara zipped past him this way and that, on their way to their own mysterious destinations. Probably not as mysterious as the one he and Press were headed towards, though.
As they passed over a colossal sea-trench, a bright yellow cloud of energy shot past them. It wheeled around, did a loop-de-loop, then dive bombed them.
Whoooo! Hobey-ho, mates, what brings you here?
The spirit of Vo Spader came to glide beside Uncle Press, ethereal form crackling with positive energy.
Spirits in Solara were not really limited in their interactions with one another. If you were looking for someone, it wouldn't be long before you found them. For that reason, Bobby was able to easily maintain contact with all of the friends he had made as a Traveler, and Spader most definitely fell into that category. Bobby, though glad to see him, sighed. Unfortunately, nothing good. We're on our way to check it out now.
Spader's spirit sparked with confusion.
Sounds natty, mate. Why don't you fill me in on the way there?
The landscape changed yet again as they flew, this time taking on a breathtaking orange hue. Vast, rocky canyons consisting of every color between yellow and red stretched without limit, a strange contrast with the largely dark and starry sky. Press and Bobby both filled Spader in on their way to the strange, new world they sought to investigate. As they grew closer to their destination, somewhere on the brink of the Solara that they knew, the clouds of light and energy became fewer and farther between. The spirit of mankind seemed thin out here, like the supply of oxygen in an atmosphere that was thinning with altitude.
Hobey. That doesn't sound good at all. Still, can't wait to see this new territory of yours. Sounds like these Qi'xir could use a little help, courtesy of Vo Spader!
The other two winced. Spader meant well, and he was an absolute beacon of positive energy in Solara, but he occasionally got a bit overenthusiastic with his job. It wasn't as though he was trying to influence the people of the territories, but occasionally he would get a bit carried away. Sort of like an overzealous art teacher who looks at a student's work, says, "Hey! I love it! But what if you do this? No, no, not like that…here, let me show you what I mean!" and then ends up taking over the project entirely and making it pretty much unrecognizable. On the one hand, the kid usually got an A+. On the other hand, no one really thought it was his artwork.
As they drew closer to the edge of Solara, something disturbing came into view. It looked like a wall of mist, wisps of smoke curling around the edge of a gaping void. The three of them felt a bit uneasy at the sight, though Uncle Press, having seen what was beyond it, was most anxious of them all. Reluctantly, he drew his attention back to Spader.
We're just going for reconnaissance, Spader. We're not going to try to 'fix' the territory, just look for a way to get the spirits who are controlling it to relinquish their grasp. Once that's done, the territory can begin to take its own shape.
Uncle Press knew what he was doing. At least, as much as anyone in this situation could. As they neared their destination, though, Spader seemed disappointed. They drew closer to the border that seemed to mark the end of Solara and the beginning of…whatever else was out there. Spader tried to reiterate his point.
Well, yeah, absolutely! But what if they need just a little shove in the right direction? Nothing too big, just the normal spirit stuff, maybe –
Spader was abruptly cut off as the space in front of him rippled, then exploded outward. It was as though a swarm of angry bees had suddenly come rushing out of a hive. Dark matter swirled in a sinister murmuration, blocking their passage and rippling ominously. The three spirits drew closer together, not knowing what to expect. What was this stuff? Should they run? Fight? Try to go around? Charge right into it?
Uhhh, Uncle Press? Is that normal?
The first time Press had been here, he had been able to make it past the border without drawing attention to himself. Even when he was forced to flee, he hadn't gotten a glimpse of what had been chasing him.
No idea. I've never seen anything like it before.
The substance seemed to have a certain control of itself, or else it was being controlled by some intelligent force. At last, something sparked in Bobby's memory. He was perhaps the only spirit in Solara that had seen anything like this before.
…Wait. I have. They're spirits.
The other two glanced at him in confusion.
I've seen something like that before. In the final battle against Saint Dane, I kept getting knocked back into some dark, twisted reflection of Solara. His version of Solara. I saw things like that shooting around. It had looked like they were cheering him on.
They all recognized that that was the first time they had heard that name in a long time. So much had been lost during that time, and so much more had been at stake. They mostly tried not to talk about it. It was better that way.
The formation of dark spirits seethed around in front of them, then drew together into a sort of funnel. It flew down to the hard ground below them, and stabilized there, almost inviting the three spirits above to come take a closer look. It looked like a small, localized tornado of dark energy. They hesitated, but whatever the spirits wanted, they didn't seem to be immediately dangerous.
Bobby was the first to land, taking on corporeal form. Press and Spader landed a few feet behind him, doing the same. As the dense funnel of spirits continued to swirl, Bobby could have sword he saw something within their depths. A dark figure seemed to be standing in the storm.
Before he could say anything, the figure took on a more defined shape, as if making a move to emerge. Bobby had a strange sense of dread which he couldn't quite pin down. Ok, yeah, the dark, seething mass of negative spirit swirling around in front of them was pretty dreadful; but his feelings went beyond that. It was like watching a horrible train wreck on T.V., then getting the sudden, awful premonition that someone you knew had been on the train. As the figure continued to grow more defined, Bobby could have sworn he saw something flicker in the dark storm. A flash of blue. He looked closer as the figure began to emerge. It looked to be a human, standing nearly seven feet tall. It was still just shielded from their view, as though through a thin layer of gauze. At last, it seemed to gather itself, and all at once strode into the sight.
Bobby's mouth went dry. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach. It was impossible. It couldn't be possible. But it was. The proof of it was staring him in the face, icy blue eyes darting first to Press, then to Spader, and finally locking onto him. Although a spirit of Solara could take on any shape it wanted, this particular spirit could have taken on any shape imaginable, and Bobby still would have recognized him.
Saint Dane gave a feral grin, and then said, "It's been a long time. Did you miss me, Pendragon?"
He looked similar to the day Bobby had first seem him. Cold, piercing blue eyes; seven feet tall, or near that; long black coat, and a suit that looked vaguely Asian; the only difference was that he didn't look quite as old. His hair was jet black, and he looked at least ten years younger that he had that first day in the subway.
Bobby could only stand, paralyzed by shock; the demon that had haunted his dreams ever since his brief stay on Earth, the demon he had defeated a lifetime ago, the demon that by all rights should not exist, merely stood, seeming to enjoy the impact his appearance had caused. Bobby stared, rooted to the spot by equal parts dread and disbelief.
Saint Dane feigned disappointment. "Apparently not." he said, eyes flicking once again to Press, and then to Spader. "I see you brought a welcoming committee. Pray tell, where are the other Travelers?" He looked around in mock surprise, as though expecting them to suddenly appear. "Surely, after all the good times we shared, they would wish to come bid me welcome back?"
Bobby groped for words, still somewhat shell shocked, and managed to force out part of a question. "How…you…how did you…?"
Saint Dane glanced at him disdainfully, and then began walking slowly around the clearing. "How did I return? Well, that is an interesting question. I put it to you: can something come back if it was never truly gone to begin with?" He paused, looking again to Pendragon and largely ignoring the other two travelers that stood behind him. Press and Spader were not handling this new revelation much better than Bobby. Spader was staring openmouthed, and Press was looking slightly ill; they were both starting to recover, however, as was Bobby.
Bobby looked at Saint Dane, still trying to accept that what he was seeing was real. "But…you were gone. I saw your spirit end! I was the one who—"
He was cut off abruptly by Saint Dane. "You were the one who what?" the demon hissed. "Killed me?" His eyes had changed to lightning white, rage flickering in their depths. "Did you believe me dead? Did you go on to lead the rest of your happy little life, believing me no longer a threat?" He whipped around and glared at Bobby, who had become tense at the demon's outburst. At last, Bobby regained his balance, and replied to Saint Dane in an even tone.
"Yes."
Saint Dane blinked, and his eyes returned to their normal, cold blue. "I suspected as much," he said, his voice level but dripping with malice. "After my fall, I was certainly in no fit state to cause you any further trouble. However," he said, eyes dropping to his hands, sweeping briefly over his new corporeal form, "That is no longer the case, as you can clearly see."
Press had regained his composure, and Spader, no longer staring in openmouthed shock, was trembling with anger. Bobby narrowed his eyes at the demon and asked a short, simple question. "Why are you here?" He wasn't interested in how Saint Dane had returned, at least not at the moment. What he wanted was to know what was in store for him. For all of them. For Halla. For Solara.
Saint Dane paused for a moment, thinking. He seemed to become momentarily absorbed in his memories, eyes looking to something miles and eons away. At last he looked to Bobby, and then let out a tired sigh. "What do you want to hear from me, Pendragon? That I have seen the error of my ways? That I want only the chance to redeem myself for my misdeeds? Do you expect me to drop to my knees, and beg for mercy as I did so long ago? A plea which fell upon deaf ears, might I add."
Bobby tried not to flinch at the memory. Although it had marked the end of the most painful years of his existence, and was a triumph in the history of Solara, it was by no means a pleasant reminiscence. He had held no pity for the demon; he still did not. Nonetheless, hearing it phrased so bluntly was uncomfortable to say the least. He steeled himself, then glared at Saint Dane as he replied, "As nice as that would be, I guess that's not going to happen." He watched Saint Dane carefully to see what his response would be.
He has to know that after all that happened he doesn't stand a chance against the positive spirit of Solara. Heck, it's a miracle he even still exists! What could possibly make him think he's strong enough to fight another war? He can't seriously suggest that he's going go through all of that again?
"I want to watch you die. All of you."
Ok, relented Bobby. Maybe he could.
Saint Dane turned his cold, hard gaze on the three Travelers. "I want to do to you all that you did to me. I want you to feel the feelings of utter defeat that I did. I want to watch as your spirits are snuffed out, one by one. I want revenge, Pendragon. And I will not be denied." The dark spirits of Solara surged behind him, a storm of rage, strength, pride, and dominance. It rippled and flexed as the three Travelers watched it, and seemed to grow as Saint Dane let his emotions pour out of him through the words he spoke.
It finally dawned on them the enormity of the situation at hand. Saint Dane was back. He was angry. He wanted revenge. Most of all, they realized as they watched the roiling storm of spirits writhe in the air behind him, basking in the power he emitted and in turn feeding him their own…
He had the power to get it.
Saint Dane smirked as he looked to the sky behind the travelers. Streaks of light and color were hurtling towards them, spirits coming to investigate the disturbance they had felt. "It would appear that we have some company. Never mind. I have made my point. I suspect that we will meet again, Pendragon; hopefully before too much time has passed." With that Saint Dane turned and began to walk into the mass of spirits before him.
Finally, Bobby dismissed the last of the dread that had been weighing him down, allowing his anger to return and his defiance to spark.
"We won't let that happen, Saint Dane!" Bobby shouted at the retreating figure of his enemy. "We beat you once. What makes you think we can't do it again?"
Saint Dane merely glanced back over his shoulder as he began to dissipate in the storm. "Suppose that you do? What's to stop me from returning once more? I will not stop hounding you, Pendragon. Not until the last light of Solara has been snuffed out."
And with that he was gone, he and his spirits disappearing into the great wall of mist as suddenly as they had come. Press, Spader and Bobby stood, staring after him until the spirits that had come to investigate the disturbance swirled around their heads, pulling them back into the moment.
Press sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked at the other two. "Well?"
Spader looked too shaken to say anything. Bobby looked back at them, and then glanced up at the spirits flying overhead. He said, "I think we need to let everyone know what's up."
This got through to Spader. He looked at Bobby, raising his eyebrows. "And by everyone I take it you mean…?" He trailed off. The three were already starting to dissipate back into their spiritual forms.
"Yup," Bobby said, as he resumed his natural state.
Let's go find the other Travelers.
Spader's spirit drifted up to float beside Bobby and Press'. As deep as his hatred for Saint Dane ran, Vo Spader would never say no to a good adventure. Hobey ho, mate?
Bobby shot off over the ever-shifting landscape of Solara, readying himself for the task at hand.
Hobey ho, let's go.