"Have no friends not equal to yourself."
- Confucius

Kresk swore in annoyance. "Where is that stupid scroll? I need that bloody scroll, right now, and right here!" Kresk, quite obviously, was miff. He was in desperate need of a scroll of stealth, to help a client with infiltration. Stealing was relatively easy for those who are light and nimble, but when you are nearly eight feet tall and 500 pounds, nimble is not on the list of self-qualities. He stormed into his office. Janys remained asleep, or hibernating, or whatever it is a living ooze does all day with it's free time. "Janys," Kresk growled in annoyance. The ooze shifted slightly and 'looked' at him. "I need to know if we have any scrolls of stealth." The slime, with all the moist dignity its voice usually carried, said simply, "No." Kresk swore under his breath again. "Sigil doesn't have any, I can't reach the Abyss, and this task is too minor to call a favor from one of the Arch-Demons. Gods, I'm in a fix. If I don't help Malus with this job tonight I don't get paid for it, and if I don't get paid I'm going to have some very unhappy crime lords after me. And I don't like being dead, or in pain for that matter."

Janys merely slipped back into her bowl has he rambled on about nothing. Whether the old, fat demon lived or died, she didn't care. As long as she got paid, she did her job as secretary to the Fire Demon. He continued his rambling. "There has to be someone with a scroll I can contact. Someone I can-" He started to cough, a violent, hacking cough. He finally choked up a small amount of blood. The cause of the malady; a chip of bone. He frowned even more. "Ugh, that little brat. Even now she makes me suffer. She dislodged one of my ribs! It's still drifting around somewhere, although from the looks of it, it's coming back the hard way. I ought to ring that little-" He stopped. That was the answer! That would solve everything! Raven! That annoying little mage would have his scroll! "Ha ha! I knew that kid would be useful to me somehow!" He ran out of his office, and made his way to the world outside.

Raven shifted in her sleep. She was having such a good dream. It was pleasant. She and Malchior, in his human form, were standing by the shore, holding each other's hands. Malchior couldn't help but peek into her dreams. He had nothing else to do. For starts, he was made out of paper. And second, as a dragon, he rarely, if ever, slept. And when he did, the sleep could go on for years. The dragon thought about his home. His horde. Ahh, familiar gold and treasure. He had proved to the world that even as a cross-breed he could gain treasure. His father had been a red dragon, and his mother a black. No one thought he would survive past infancy. And yet he did. He killed his brothers and sisters, took their hordes, and rose to power. To bad that annoying wizard had come. It was his fate. He was a great and powerful creature, and mortals would always seek to kill him for one reason or another. But now he would have his victory over the wizard, he would have the last laugh. He would return to the mortal world and dominate it. But first, he had to endure this humiliation.

He stared at Raven as she slept. She was just taking a nap, a quick rest from their practice. He tried to lick his lips, and grew annoyed when he realized he didn't have any yet. He wondered how he would eat her. Picking her apart was too messy, but swallowing whole was so unoriginal. He could always 'cook' her first, but she was so small. She was barely a morsel. No he would have to savor her. She was just the right age, tender and perfect. He could feel the wizard reel with anguish and horror at the thought. That was what made this palatable; the wizard suffered. Malchior had stolen the wizard's best features; his eyes and his voice, and was using them just the right way. And what really made it fun, what really made him quiver inside, was the knowledge that the wizard actually loved the stupid girl! Love. Pfft. He thought to himself that if there was ever a more useless human emotion, he hadn't heard of it. Still, it was best to lay on the flatteries thick.

Yes keep the flatteries thick. Every one of them. Every 'You are beautiful to me', all the 'We can be together forever', and even that most detestable of phrases, that one he hated above all to hear and utter, that he loathed and despised with an unbridled passion, 'I love-

"I love you." She had awoken. He had been rambling to himself so long now he hadn't realized she was done with her rest. She barely whispered to him, from soft lips, "I really do. Tell me; do you love me to?" She stared at him through those beautiful eyes. He moved back into character. "My gem, why do you ask a question? You know I love you (he thought to himself as he uttered these words "must...repress...urge...to...scream") more than the sky is broad and the ocean is deep." Raven smiled at him. "I dreamt about you. There was a sunset and-" He put his fingers over her lips. "Save the romance for later. For now we must further your studies. Today we begin the works of Orius IV, mad sage of Durn." As he said this, she lifted herself out of bed. She picked up the book he had laid beside her bed, one of many. She walked around the room. There was a slight spring in Raven's step, and a slight smile on her face. She walked over to where Malchior was standing. He was still talking, and he turned around suddenly to find her unnervingly close. She stared at him, in that ethereal, almost dream-like fashion. Oh no, he thought to himself. She's doing that human romance thing again. He prayed quickly: Please, Tiamat, mother of dragons. If you have any compassion for me you'll do something. My dignity has limits, my queen, and I don't think it can take another blow. Raven batted her eye-lashes flirtatiously, and nearly whispered, "I wonder. Is it possible to kiss a man with no lips? Let me...find...out." She closed her eyes and pressed a little closer to him. Malchior was now screaming at his goddess: you stupid lump! If you don't do something in the next five seconds I swear I'll turn to Bahamut just out of spite! Her lips were nearly on his (or not; you get the point), when suddenly, a miracle occurred.

A bang that could have torn mountains hit the door. "Oh no. Not now." Raven moaned to herself. A harsh voice barked, "Raven bang Open up you little agorophobe! Bang I know you're in there! Bang I can hear you!" bang-bang-bang The assault ended, and then, Kresk suddenly realized, "Wait a second. What am I doing?" Raven and Malchior heard the crackling of flames outside. The vent in Raven's room suddenly exploded. A living fireball emerged, and dissipated to reveal Kresk. The demon quickly looked at her and said, "All right look! I don't like you, and you don't like me. So just hand over a scroll of stealth and I won't kill you for knocking one of my ribs out of place...yet." He suddenly realized something was afoot.

"Why, in the name of all that is unholy, are you wearing white? And why is the room completely littered with books? And lastly, and this part really concerns me, is there a man made out of paper standing over there?" He pointed a jagged claw at Malchior. "His name is Malchior." She sneered reproachfully. "Ah, crazits. I recognize that tone." He backed away, in an all at once satiric and serious way "If you knock another rib out of me, I'm taking one of yours. All I came here for was a scroll. Now cough it up before I lose patience." Malchior interjected, "Excuse me, but who are you?" Raven, disdainfully, began the introductions. "Malchior, this is the Fire Demon Kresk. The last time we met we had a little fight and-"

"A little? Is that what you call it you barbaric trog? You dislodged one of my ribs, knocked out one of my eyes, and broke my jaw and arm in three places! I was nearly killed, and I've been coughing up blood for weeks!"

"Well you kept pushing me!"

"Oh no, don't go blaming your anger issues on me!" Malchior finally shouted (he wanted to unleash a draconic roar, but found the wizard's voice only good for spells and compliments, not battle), "How dare you! I demand you leave now!"

"Or what? You'll throw paper wads at me! I can rip you sixteen ways from - wait a second. I know that smell." Kresk approached Malchior. The Fire Demon was a complication in his plan, to be sure.

Kresk sniffed the air around Malchior. "Oh, victory is sweet. Hold on, hold on. Let me enjoy this moment, oh sjir darastrix (scroll dragon; Kresk is now speaking in Draconic, language of dragons, one of the most recognized languages of the paranormal, a language Raven doesn't understand, and second oldest language in the multiverse.) Here I stand in front of you, of all things, now reduced to this. Oh, I am relishing this moment."

"Leave me alone, you uncivilized brute."

"Uncivilized? Listen and listen good, darastrix, while you were crawling on all fours like a hairless rat, I was conquering nations and casting spells that would make you cry like a rat! I bet you haven't even looked at the Galleon Scrolls!"

"As a matter of fact I've read all the Galleon Scrolls! At least I flipped through the Corpus Infernus."

"I nearly wrote the Corpus Infernus, wux pothoc faessi (you stupid coward)! Trust me, anything you have read, I have read, and more!"

"Oh really then? Well have you at least gone through the Elder Scrolls of the Ninth Dust?"

"Ha! You probably haven't even read the first Eight Dusts! How can you hope to understand the Ninth, wux onureth levex baeshra!"

"Well I bet you can't recite the codes of Ravana in Infernal."

"As a matter of fact..."

Three hours later...

Raven continued to watch the two argue. They were essentially playing a tennis match of arcane knowledge. One would name a book, the other would reply with a counter-attack. In time some things she had thought only legend were being revealed as the reading lists of the demonic and arcane. Kresk was on the bat this round, "The Necronomicon! And I don't mean those kiddy versions you can buy anywhere, the real thing written the Mad Arab himself! Volumes one, two, and three."

"Volumes three, four, and five. And the author's name is Abdul Alhazred."

"Damgits. You win there."

"Of course I win. Now leave before I have to further humiliate-"

"GOLDEN SKINS OF THE WORLD SERPENT!", Kresk shouted, as if revealing a trump card. Malchior stared, puzzled by the sudden utterance. "What?" Kresk's frown of defeat exploded into a laugh of triumph, "Ha! Now I am the one humiliating you! I would expect, of all creatures, for you to know about them darastrix!"

"Well don't leave me in suspense. Tell me what they are."

"I don't think so. I like having this edge over you, darastrix. It makes me feel...powerful."

"You old buffoon! I bet you don't even know what you're talking about. Fye on you and your scrolls, and all demons to."

Kresk was smoldering at the insult to his kind. "Don't...ever...insult...a tanar, paper boy. We were here before your race was even crawling on its bellies like worms." Kresk looked around for something to attack with, and then the simplest and most malicious idea of all came to him. Kresk pointed his finger at Malchior, and watched the digit ignite. With a sneer, he said gleefully, "Have a little fire, scare-crow." The miniature fire-ball flew towards Malchior. It would have hit him, if not for the intervention of Raven. The shield of darkness she created protected Malchior, and she shoved it back on Kresk. He was flung against the wall, and a distinct sound of pain emerged from the demon. He said, painfully, "I think I found that missing rib. It's, somewhere in one of my kidneys right now. Good thing I keep a third one around, just in case." His remarks remained unheard. He got up, only to find an enraged Raven staring up at him with fury. She snarled, "I want you out of my room, now." She was obviously trying to restrain herself from screaming. Kresk said, sarcastically, "So this is how you repay my hospitality? I take you into my house, try to teach you something of value, and how do you repay me? You nearly kill me and don't even offer the courtesy of your home. How rude. Obviously this paper freak hasn't taught you any manners." He lowered his face so it was next to her, so she could see the hatred and scars on his visage, and smell the sulfur and death on his breath, "Tell me, just out of curiosity, why do you keep this useless thing with you? What could he possibly do that could make a miscreant like you feel any better?" She stared at him, eye-to-eye, and with dignity and confidence in the face of the beast said, ever so quietly and yet so loudly, "I love him, and I know he loves me to."

"Love? Don't talk to me about what you call 'love'. You don't know half of what love really is. Love is the connection of two souls who are destined to be with each other in a way so deep and profound that you can't possibly begin to call your school-girl infatuation with this, this, thing love. He can barely touch your skin, much less the deepest and softest part of your soul. When you have lived centuries moving on nothing but passions like I have, you can talk to me about love. Until then, don't nag me about romance! What you have is not the love of soul-mates, it's more like the love I have for a fine Acheronite cigar."

"Don't lecture me. Have you even felt love? Do you even really know what love is?"

"I love things! I love myself. I love my material possessions. I love corrupting and destroying all that is pure and innocent and holy in the world. I love killing and destroying in bloody ecstasy until nothing is left standing and I'm up to my hips in gore. See? Right there, I love plenty of things."

"You wouldn't understand. It's not just love. It's belonging. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I have someone who understands me, someone who is really there with me. For the first time, I feel like I have a real friend to talk to." Raven walked away, not necessarily towards Malchior, just away from Kresk, the discord in her harmony. He looked at her with a solemn look, and said, in a tone laced with pity, "You poor creature. You poor, poor creature. May the gods smile upon you." She looked at him with contempt. Why should he pity her? He was the pathetic one, not knowing love or happiness, wallowing in his own savagery and base instincts. "Leave Kresk. Just leave before I knock out another rib."

"I'd like to see you try, oh deceived." Kresk turned around and walked away, forgetting all about the scroll he had come for. He waved his hand in front of the door, and it slid open. But before he left, he stared with a final, angry, disapproving look at Malchior, and said, " Oh wux virlem dartak ur martir aesthyr, ocuir. Wux lo malsvir vur thurgix, vur lo kathar svent wux ihk vorel vur sveargith irlym. Ocuir vur osvith sgek." (Very loosely translated; Oh you cruel thief of beauty and happiness/innocence, know this. You are weak and evil, and I do not approve of this cruel trick that you play. I shall kill you, for pride and the sake of true freedom and happiness. Know this and fear.) Kresk stepped through the door, and disappeared in a burst of fire. Raven shut the door and sat on her bed. Malchior grew uneasy at the prospect of fighting a demon. But it was doubtful he would actually show. The Fire Demon was merely doing what he did best; entertaining.

Of course later it was the truth Malchior was a dragon, and he did fail in his plans of escape, but not by Kresk's hand. Kresk simply decided not to come. If the young mage was so confident in herself, she could take care to the problem. He was apathetic to her plight. Yet her problem still ate at his mind. To feel a sense of belonging was one of the few human emotions the demon retained. It was necessary to him. Without it, he would simply be another bitter and violent creature wandering the world. He knew how it felt, to be alone, to not have another living being to talk to, to truly connect with. It was the emotion he carried most of his long, dismal life. And it seemed so sad that any living thing in the multiverse should ever feel a loneliness like that. Perhaps it was time he had a talk with the shadow-dancer.

Raven sat on the roof of the tower, staring at the full moon on the ocean. The entire scene reflected her, perched alone in the world, the night closing in like hands at her heart, the faint and unsubstantial moon the only light. Her friends had comforted her, but it was still not enough to fill the aching void in her heart. She had friends, yes. And they loved her like she was a sister. But no one understood her in reality. She stared at the sea, and felt a hot wind blow against her face. The trotting of hooves and the familiar scent of brimstone came to her nose. Kresk stood next to where she was sitting, and stared out at the ocean with her. Without actually looking at her, he sat down. "Hey kid.", he said in a quiet, but still gruff voice. She didn't answer. She wished he would leave so she could return to her thoughts, even if they were dark and she almost welcomed the distraction. He spoke again, "Makes you feel lonely, doesn't it? Sitting out here and knowing that there isn't anything else to do except live with the betrayal and despair. I've known that feeling a lot. I've lived a long time, and yet somehow I keep getting depressed. " He stared at the ocean a bit more.

"You know, I wasn't always a demon. There was a time in my life where I was actually a human. Still had my nose, and hair, and lips. That was before the chaos magic made them fall off." She looked up at him, and in the moonlight, she could almost see where there might be a human being under all the scratches and horns. It was there, just for a minute, then it was gone, swift as a shadow. "You say that you feel like you don't belong, and that I can't understand that feeling. You don't know just how wrong you are." For the first time in the conversation, he looked at Raven. His massive shadow loomed over her, and he waved his hand over his face, "You see this ugly mug? It's my bane of existence. I'm too hideous and terrifying to be human, and yet there isn't nearly enough insanity and savagery in me to be a demon. I'm in a limbo. Like you, I don't really belong anywhere."
Raven looked back out at the sea, but Kresk continued his visage of the girl. "We're both freaks and outcasts, neither really belonging. And we have enough of our differences so that we stand on separate perches. But you know what they say about loneliness." She continued to stare at the ocean, and dowerdly responded, "I really don't."

"They say it is lonely at the top. And if you're lonely, you must be at the top. Now you can do two things. You can stand there an mourn and mope, or you can do what I do." She looked at Kresk, and asked "What?"

"You can scream and holler until the entire world hears you, you can let the world know you are at the top, and that you have something over them. It's how I get through the day at least." Raven looked back at the ocean grimly, and said, "That doesn't make me any less lonely. That just reminds me that I am alone."

"You know what else you can do?", Kresk asked cheerfully. Raven remained silent.

"You can turn and look at the other lonely bird at the top. Than you can look around again and see another one, and another, and another, until suddenly, the top isn't so lonely." Her stare still looked out at the waves. Kresk turned his attention to the calm Pacific as well. "I know we've had our differences in the past, kid. But let us put those aside." He looked at her, "Let's be friends from now on. Who knows? Maybe you'll actually have fun." He extended his large, clawed hand out. She stared at it for a moment. With a mild tone, Raven said, "All right. I guess I can try anything once." She shook his hand. The contrast was staggering. Kresk's hand was rough, callous in places, with his jagged claws and a palm small animals could fit in with. Raven's was soft, gentle, delicate, used to performing the somatic components of her spells, not the bloody war Kresk waged.

The two hands departed from their shake, and Kresk remained on the roof, and said, "Good. Now that that's cleared up, maybe that annoying guilty feeling in my stomach will go away. You're always welcome in my house, should you choose to come. Just be careful when you come in." She replied with a mild "Okay". Raven stared out at the ocean again, her head swirling with a thousand thoughts. What does it mean to befriend a demon? What will come of this union, however uneasy it may be? What does that voice in my head say about this? Will anyone replace Malchior in my heart? Am I meant to be happy?

Kresk just stared out at the sea, his mind as calm as the gently rolling waves now. It might be fun, having an apprentice again, he thought to himself. Or at least having a new friend to talk to. His mind drifted back like foam on the waves, and in the light of the silver-blue moon, the two opposites of humanity and inhumanity sat on the same perch for a moment.