It shines there like a beacon

Amidst the steel and chrome

A slender thread it beams ahead

And points the way back home

-John McCuthcheon, 'Who'll Rock the Cradle?'

Raven was quietly meditating in her room when she heard panicked screaming coming from outside in the hall. She rushed towards the door and tried to go through the wall with her powers, but instead she hit the door with a thud. The terrified hollers continued. Raven's powers had fled into nothingness. She ventured to open the door manually, but to no avail. The portal simply wouldn't budge. The harder Raven tried, the louder the screams grew. She tried and tried for what seemed like forever to her. And then, the screaming stopped, falling mute in the hall. But there was one sound, the sickening sound of dripping. Once more, Raven strived to open her door. And she was horrified when she succeeded.

All along the walls, blood was splattered, dripping from the ceiling and forming puddles on the floor. Raven stepped out, listening to her feet touch and splatter the puddles of gore. Her shoes and legs felt cold as the warm blood washed across them and began to dry. Raven felt herself nearly trip over something on the floor. She nearly vomited at the sight of a fresh, bloody arm. She couldn't tell who's it was, but it was humanoid to an extent. The red bleached out any hint of color. Raven entered the living room. Blood still varnished the walls, but a section of the window was broken. Gore covered all the rest of the massive glass construction, blocking out the sun, save for a few beams or sick, red luminescence. But white light streamed through a massive gap in the middle. The jagged edges only added to the effect as a solitary figure stood in the middle of broken section. The black shape stared out to the invisible inside, majestic in the shimmering blank glow. And slowly, it turned around, little by little. Two yellow eyes leered from the rest of the unseen face, and before it was done moving, the Demon's voice reverberated in Raven's head, "Wake up."

Raven woke up in her bed. Everything was too dark to see, almost pitch black really. But Raven felt her head resting on something. She reached up to what she thought was a pillow and felt something warm and alive, something smooth and scaly. Raven realized that she was touching the Demon's leg, and that Everything She Should Have Been was cradling her head in her lap. She felt the Demon run her clawed hand across her forehead, stroking it gently. The Demon was humming a little lullaby to Raven. The Demon bent down and kissed Raven's brow. She opened her glowing yellow eyes, and looked into Raven's with them. Her face still close but invisible, she whispered to Raven, "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. It was only a nightmare. They'll be dead by morning."

For the second time, Raven woke up in her bed. She felt her pillow, and was relieved to feel only the fluffy cushion. She got out of bed and went to the hall, taking the time to open the door by hand. No blood, no screams, no arms. She closed the door to her room again. Raven was unsure that she was awake, however, when she tried to manifest magic. She strained and concentrated, but was only able to produce a tiny ball of black fire in her hand, which only lasted a few seconds before going out. Just to make sure that she wasn't still dreaming, Raven checked for the usual dreamscape markers. (She had found a book in Kresk's library; Don't Follow the White Rabbit: How to Identify Dreamscapes and Get Out Intact.) There appeared to be no mentioning, signs, or visible presence of a white rabbit in any shape or form. Raven looked at the clock. 7:09 A.M., a regular number as opposed to something unusual, such as 25:99 Q.M. Raven opened here Titans signaler. The numbers stayed stationary and were all single digits. Raven opened a book and read the sentences perfectly as the letters and lines stayed absolutely still. For a moment, she was concerned when she read about singular, enigmatic figures, like the King in Yellow who lay beyond the Void in the Castle. That was until Raven realized that she was reading Lovecraft. All in all, her theory checked out; this was reality, plain and simple.

This was the third night in a row Raven had weathered nightmares, and it was starting to show. She was snappier than usual, and it was getting harder and harder to cast spells. And it happened every time she slept. A nap, a doze, a daydream; all inevitably terminated into a nightmare of some kind or another. And it wasn't just her; it was the other Titans to. Everybody but Cyborg (as a construct, he didn't dream; he just shut down) was starting to lose pep. Raven at first thought it was Kresk, but this didn't seem like him. Kresk preferred fast results as opposed to simply leech the life out of his victims, and if he wanted to scare somebody, he did it directly. But just to be sure, Raven resolved to talk to the Fire Demon. At the very least he might have a cure for these horrible reveries.

When Raven got to Kresk's home, she walked into find Bormulk shivering. At first she thought that the pig-demon was cold, but on second thought that made as much sense as a china plate in a bullpen. She could see that his eyes were wide open and that he wasn't blinking. The nalfeshnee was drinking from an onyx bowl decorated with leering faces of medusae and minotaurs. He didn't greet Raven until she was almost directly next to him before he yelped out, mindlessly fast, "Hey Rae! Can't talk! Leprechauns coming to kill me!" He say there silently before Raven delicately asked, "Yeah, hey. Just what are you drinking."

"No idea! Got some random roots and herbs to stay awake! I think it draws leprechauns though! Don't you see the leprechauns? They're everywhere! They want me dead! They're just waiting for me to drop my guard! Especially that one in the corner, the one with the lucky charms! He's already killed three little ones!"

"Bor, there's no one in here but us."

"That's just what they want you to think!"

"Alright then." Raven backed away very slowly towards the main hall. As she was leaving, Bormulk let out another yelp. The succubae were sitting at a table. Oddly, they weren't chattering or gossiping amongst themselves. They looked tired, and not their usual ahem tired, but honestly sleep-deprived. Bags were under their eyes, their hair was disheveled, their wings were weary, and it looked like it was taking all their energy to keep their eyelids from snapping shut like a bear trap. Walking into Janys' room, the slime seemed unaffected, but then again, she always seemed tired and bitter. Almost entering Kresk's room, Raven heard voices coming from inside, both speaking Abyssal. One was distinctly Kresk's, but another was deeper and jowly. Raven knocked on Kresk's door, noticing its implemented, black ironwood decorated with simple faces and designs. She heard Kresk's muffled voice yell, "Yeah, come in."

Raven stepped in to see Kresk sitting at his desk with a hideous guest. Sitting across from Kresk was a monster to any man. It was roughly the size of Bormulk, that is to say the size of an average giant, a little shorter actually. The entirety of its body, save for a few white splotches, was a dark, chocolate brown. Atop its torso was a canine head armed with straight horns, looking like a Great Dane with its ears perked up and it's yellow eyes glowing. Its humanoid torso bore four strange arms. Two seemed to come directly out of its chest, but they were tiny, with delicate fingers. Its main arms were two massive pincers, echoing those of a crab or a scorpion. Two chitinous plates on its shoulders gave the impression of shoulder pads. Its legs, like most fiends, ended in two cloven hooves, if not weathered and tried ones.

"Hey kiddo. It's good to see you. We still on for tonight?"

"Uh, sure. I've got the quija board." Raven stuttered, curious as to the huge creature across from Kresk.

"Excellent! Oh, I'd like you to meet one of the staff, Ch'tar. He's one of the older members, along with Bormulk and Janys. He's a glabrezu, tempter demons like the succubae, but where they tempt with sex, he tempts with power. He does a lot of work for me outside here, you could call him my field man, if you will." The glabrezu said something to Kresk in Abyssal. Normally, Raven could understand Abyssal, but this version was so jowly, so ancient, that it was hard to make anything of it beyond a few token words. "What did he say?" Raven asked. The dog-demon laughed a bit at this. Kresk said to Raven, "Don't worry about it, kiddo. After you listen to him enough he'll make sense. Now what ails ya'?"

"Nightmares. Just out of curiosity, what's up with everybody around here? They seem kind of jittery."

"They've got a rash of nightmares as well."

"I thought demons didn't sleep."

"No, no. We don't need to sleep, just like we don't need to eat, drink, breathe, or reproduce. But we do it anyway, just for the sensual appeal. The succubae can attest to the joy of sex, I can't breathe fire if I don't breathe at all, and Bormulk likes nothing less than to stuff himself fat. The same way, we sleep. It leaves us refreshed in the morning, and dreams are always fun. Of course if we get a bad night, we have to pay for it. These nightmares are starting to get to us, kiddo. We've stopped sleeping, but we're going through some serious withdrawal issues. It'll be at least a week before we really adapt, and until then we're all gonna' feel like crap. That's why I brought Ch'tar in, so he could whip us into the shape. When was the last time you slept again, howler?"

Ch'tar let out some kind of response from the depths of his fleshy mouth. Kresk chuckled a bit before saying, "Yeah, Charles Manson knew how to have a good time. Crazy nut job. Crazy, crazy, nut job."

"I don't suppose you would have anything to stop the nightmares for me, would you?"

"For you, yes. For your idiot friends, no."

"Kresk…" Raven sighed out, giving the old demon a disapproving stare. "Look, kid, I'd help if I could, but I can't. As I recall, it's your rule that I don't screw around with them."

"But you do that all the time."

"Yes, but I make it a point not to do it when you're around. Besides, even if I did help, the nightmares would just keep coming until the source is dead."

"And just what is the source?"

"A Nightmare Beast. Huge monsters covered in black scales that cause nightmares whenever they're present in an area."

"What's one doing here?"

"I won it in a bet. I was going to sell it, so I kept in the cellar. Damn thing must have gotten out its cage."

"Why don't you just get rid of it?"

"Because, I'm investing money in it. And it's a pain in the ass to kill. You see this isn't your average Nightmare Beast. This one was crossbred with a special breed of magic-eating dragon. It devours any kind of energy in a person. Arcane, divine, psionic, whatever. I'm strong, but not strong enough if I have no magic. I'd need a better reason to kill it than that it's giving some of your twerp buddies a couple of bad dreams. I just pray to gods that it doesn't –" At that moment, the lights went out. Kresk's house wasn't lit by oil; it was lit by fire generated by the demons, namely Kresk. "Crap." Kresk flatly murmured out. Raven noted that she could still see Kresk's glowing orange eyes, as well as Ch'tar's. Raven heard a clicking, before Kresk, a hint of annoyed fear in voice said, "Kid, try some of your magic." Raven concentrated, focusing and focusing, but all that she was able to produce was another headache. "Nothing?" the Fire Demon asked. For some reason, Raven shook her head instead of verbally responding. She found that she could almost see Kresk and Ch'tar in the darkness. "Oh, son of a… It did an energy pull. It did a freakin' energy pull. Old Night help me…"

"What happened?" Raven asked. "The thing got hungry. Instead of waiting for more victims, it pulled all the magic out of the area. Just… Damn. That's just peachy. All right, kid. You got lucky. You get to help me and Ch'tar kill the thing." Ch'tar let out an inquisitive whimper. "Yes, you. You're closer to the cellar than Bormulk. And he's older. So it has to be you." The Fire Demon chided. Ch'tar let out a defeated whine. "Good. Now let me grab a few things and we'll be on our ways." Kresk walked to a corner of the room, and bent down over a box. He opened it, the box letting out a distinct creak from lack of attention. After some more shuffling, Kresk stood up, a lit, oil lantern in hand. The yellow light danced across his face, contorting shadows across the crevasses and canyons that were scars and wrinkles. "Here, light for the ones who can't see." He said to Raven. She politely said, "Kresk, thanks, but I don't need it. It's weird, but I can see in the dark."

"Of course you can. You're a half-demon. But it's a pain to light an oil lamp, so by gods you're gonna' hold the damn thing. Besides, the light repels some 'less savory' residents of the cellars. Now you two wait here, I have to grab some things." Kresk left Ch'tar and Raven in his office. Looking around, Raven, as if looking at the musty old study for the first time, truly understood how disturbing the place was. The yellow light expanded her and Ch'tar's shadows, throwing them against the walls so that they towered above them like two ephemeral trolls. The books on Kresk's shelf seemed to form a massive face and leer at her. The demons in the portrait on the other wall glared at her, particularly the damned, larval souls that crawled at the greater demons feet. Casting the lamp light over the shields, swords, and armor of the opposing wall, the yellow light reflected back in wickedly pointed spears. And then Raven noticed something sticking out the chest Kresk had pulled the lantern from. It was a medal, a pendant of some kind. A bronze pentagram was stuck in a circle, words written around it. But they weren't in Abyssal, instead scribed in some other planar tongue that looked vaguely familiar to Raven. It was written totally in perfectly horizontal and vertical lines. In the middle of the star was a single piece of jet, almost insignificant for its size, but perfectly round, exquisite beyond a shadow of a doubt. Raven was hypnotized until she heard Kresk approach from the hallway.

"Alright, let's go. I want this thing dead and fast." Raven turned around in time to see Kresk walk in, armed to the teeth. In his hands he held two Remington 700 SPS rifles. He had tied a belt of pockets around him, the containers bulging with ammo. And to complete the look, he was smoking one of his character Acheron cigars, its glowing tip complementing his orange eyes. He let out a puff of smoke; obscuring his face behind the smog, save for flecks of light where his eyes shone through. He marched forward, jangling with extra ammunition and gods know what else. Raven couldn't help but ask, "What's with the guns?" Kresk smiled and said, "Child of mine, two stupid men once said two stupid things. One said America didn't need booze. Another said I didn't need guns. One of those men was wrong. The other was dead wrong. Fireballs, wands, all that other magic crap, it's fun. But they're nowhere near as satisfying as a gun. Of all the many disappointments humans have given me over five and a half centuries, the perfection of the gun made up for it. Now if you'll pardon me, it's time to take Matilda and Gabriel here for some dancing. Ch'tar, remove the rug." Ch'tar bent down, and rolled up the carpet in Kresk's office. It blended so seamlessly with the plush red carpet around it that Raven had hardly noticed it. Underneath the intricately hidden rug was a large trap door, either wood or stone of some kind. A single, ordinary knocker adorned with a large ring produced the means to open the door. Ch'tar pulled on the ring with his massive claws, opening the door before slamming the portal on its hinges. It landed with a stupendous thud that shook several books from the shelf. Kresk snarled, "Damn it, Ch'tar! Be careful! You want the whole multiverse knowing we're here?" Ch'tar barked something out. Kresk scowled and said, "Just get down there. We'll cross each bridge as we come to it." Looking into the pit, Raven saw a set of stone steps lead deep into a corridor made of the same, dark gray rock. She moved when Ch'tar approached and, bending down to accommodate his monstrous girth, descended into the hall.

Kresk descended next, followed by Raven. There was no light in the dark corridors, aside from whatever was cast by the insufficient lantern. "It's probably near the enhancers." Kresk said. "What are the enhancers?" Raven queried. "You'll notice that my home is powered by magic, but that doesn't mean it's all done at once. Normally, I go to the enhancers, which might call magical magnifiers, or boilers of sorts. I throw in a little magic, it becomes a lot of magic that goes throughout the house, and we're in business. The damn thing must have gone for them first. Stay close. I haven't been down here in a while. Gods know what lives here now." The Fire Demon warned. As Kresk said this, Raven noticed a glowing silverfish the size of her hand scuttle into a crack in the wall.

The trio marched through the chaotic, twisting halls. The halls came in all varieties; tall, short, wide, thin. Shelves lined some of the walls, and they took the haunting resemblance of miniature walkways when they appeared to lead into crevasses where barely perceived deviances scuttled in the blackness. Here there were sacks and barrels, there nameless chests that called out with the hidden promise of some forgotten paraphernalia of yester-year. Winding and twisting, Raven half-expected the Minotaur to emerge from behind the next corner. She almost screamed when, passing by a dead end hall on her right, an obsidian statue of a minotaur stood, holding a stone axe, its head poised to gore.

Raven saw something unusual in the stones of the cellar, the one constant feature of the basement. They were all old, incredibly old compared to the fresh artwork, wood, and metal upstairs in the warm comfort of the house of Kresk. Raven broke the ominous silence by asking Kresk about it, "Kresk, why's the rock older here?"

"Kiddo, I bought my house from some random trader in Sigil. When I got in here, it was just my room and this cellar. Everything else was built around it with a lot of advanced, irreversible magic and metaphysical construction. Trust me it took years. When I say 'gods know what lives down here', I mean it." Kresk finished his sentence to the disquieting scuttling of something along one of the shelves lining the walls. Raven swore that she saw a flash of black fur and glowing eyes. But she assumed it was her imagination. But walking along, the scuttling came again. She turned around quickly, only to catch a flash of hair dive into an opening in the stone. A third time she heard the hideous scuttling, like rats in the walls, this time accompanied by whispers. Turning her head slowly, ever so slowly, she saw something on the shelf.

It was tiny, almost cute, if it weren't for the fact that nothing could be seen of it in its black camouflage and its yellow eyes. Raven turned around again. She whispered to Kresk, "Kresk, I think we're being followed."

"You noticed them to? They've been tracking us since that jar with a quasit head inside. I thought it was just me. Didn't say anything. Didn't want to alarm anyone."

"What are they? Rats?"

"Neeklas, neek for short."

"What are they?"

"I'm not gonna' say it. It'll sound stupid."

"Go on. It can't be any weirder than what I've already seen." Kresk took in a deep breath, than released it, before sighing, "They're demonic ninja squirrels." Raven stood there for a moment trying to process what Kresk had said. She disbelievingly said, "Demonic-"

"Ninja squirrels, yes." Raven stopped walking and stared at Kresk in the lamplight, arching a lavender eyebrow. "That just can't be. Demonic, I could understand, squirrel or ninja by itself I could even swallow, but all three? That's just isn't-"

"Look out!" Kresk yelled. He shoved Raven out of the way. Seven miniscule shuriken struck Kresk in the arm, accompanied by two throwing daggers of equally small size. Kresk screamed through gritted teeth. Standing on a platform, a small of party of neeks stood poised for the next attack. Raven could see their ebony fur splattered with sections of rust brown. Each one's upper torso and waist was covered with dark gray bandages, blending into the rock perfectly. Their faces, save for their pointed ears, were disguised in half masks, cloaking most of their little skulls. One bore silver armor that reminded Raven of Graz'zt's armor, covering his torso and upper thighs, but not his arms or lower legs. On the top of his head was a silver skullcap that almost looked like it was crafted from a thimble. The clan retreated into the crevasse. Ch'tar growled something at Kresk. He stuttered out, still in pain from the minute weapons, "Dear gods below, they're in the walls."

The seven neeks ran into a crevasse, the last one throwing a final shuriken at Kresk's head. The Fire Demon moved his head enough so that the miniscule weapon only hit one of his horns. "Com back here, you little bastards!" Kresk shouted at the crack. He shot blasted a shot from the rifle in his right hand at the crevasse. Surprisingly it went in, and even more surprisingly, it hit something. Raven heard the dying squeak of a neek inside. Kresk laughed, "Ha ha! Mother o' Malcanthet, I'm good!" The leader neekla, at least that was what Raven assumed he was due to his extra armor, ran back out, holding the corpse of the fallen neek. He stuck a wakizashi into the corpse, pulling the now blood-covered sword out slowly. Pointing the blade at Kresk, the neek let out a war cry (squeak) at the massive demon before retreating back into the walls. "So then, it is war between us." Kresk growled out, loading another bullet into the Remington. "Come on, let's move." Kresk ordered.

The trio moved through the hallways, Raven curious as to what the resolution would be between the Kresk and the demonic ninja squirrels. As if waiting for the answer, the trio emerged at a crossroads of sorts in the ancient cellar. Kresk and Ch'tar sniffed the air, looking for something. And just then, the arrows began. Yes, arrows. Dozens upon dozens of tiny arrows, each with a unique, jagged head. "Kid, get behind me!" Kresk hollered, the small cloud of injury approaching. Raven ran between Ch'tar and Kresk. Ch'tar blocked most of the arrows with his massive pincers, but a few hit Raven's exposed right leg. They were surprisingly painful. Raven hissed out in agony and felt the Demon stir in the back of her mind. She heard a monstrous howl and looked to see Kresk's arm and shoulder covered in the tiny arrows. Looking past Kresk's arm, Raven saw a swarm, an army of neekas running across the floor, turning the dark gray nearly black. These common footmen bore spears, lanterns, halberds, and ranseurs, one or two carrying a banner with some kind of chest on it. Some jumped across the walls like massive fleas, bearing katanas, wakizashis, and bagh nakhs. Several jumped on Kresk, forcing the demon to scream, "Get off of me, you damned vermin!" He ripped the closer ones with his claws, tearing into them with jagged talons. Ch'tar decimated them with his massive pincers, butting and clamping down on swarms at a time. His smaller hands tore them with his bare hands, pulling them apart like they were grapes on a vine. Kresk unleashed twin blasts with his rifles, blowing five or six per shot in bloody explosions (Raven wondered what kind of bullets caused small explosions on impact, but she didn't complain). But always there were more. Raven felt useless caught between the two larger demons, unable to move much, and incapable of casting spells. Slowly the trio was backed into the center.

At the axis of the crossroads, Raven was backed into the hallway across from the one the party was exiting. Ch'tar was left in the middle of the four lanes, and Kresk continued to fight with all the ferocity of a tiger in the jungle. A blatant roar rang throughout the air. The neekas stopped in mid-fight, halting on the ground in front of Kresk, ceasing to swarm over him. Each turned in the opposite direction and ran into the umber, disappearing into the dim corridor to hide in their secret nests. "That's it! Run! Run all of you! I'm coming to kill every one of you! I'm eatin' squirrel tonight!" Kresk victoriously screamed, blasting a few more neeks from the back of the unit, closing with a hysterical laugh of triumph. He turned around to look at Ch'tar and Raven, a small grin of satisfaction still on his face before he asked, "Now, what in the hells roared just then?"

A thundering something rammed Ch'tar head on, answering the riddle. Startled, Raven dropped the lamp, causing small flames to ignite the spilled lamp. Raven found that she could see in the dark rather well, but still didn't know what attacked Ch'tar. All Raven caught was a glimpse of something massive and dark, with a flash of red towards the beginning. Ch'tar howled as he was rushed along into the hallway at Raven's right. Kresk ran after, Raven in close pursuit. She heard a sickening thud, come from up ahead, and Kresk skid on his hooves before he stopped completely. Raven halted behind Kresk and looked at the abomination ahead. Ch'tar had been slammed into a wall, his eyes closed and his ears drooping. The monster began to turn around. The body struck Raven with the impression of a massive hippopotamus or rhino, fat with short, strong legs. All of its mass was covered in thick, leathery onyx skin that almost looked like a single layer of jagged rock covering the whole. Spines here and there added to this perception, like small stalagmites. Its pillar-like feet ended in four oversized ivory claws. The things head was blunt and bullet-shaped, a ridge of spines around the neck acted as a frill. Two huge, red eyes rested on the sides of the skull, like a snake. Lacking any cornea or iris, the eyes were pure brick-colored orbs. But the mouth was the most shocking aspect. Simply massive, it stretched from the neck to a little past the upper jaw. Opening that horrid maw, the brute displayed a tongue as red as its eyes. And teeth, rows and rows of massive, gleaming teeth the size of Kresk's hand. To finish the dreadful image, a pair of mammoth tusks emerged from the sides of its mouth. Staring at Raven and Kresk with its bloody eyes, the Nightmare Beast scratched the ground and prepared to charge.

"Alright, here's the plan." Kresk said to Raven. "I'm gonna' run at it, and shoot at it til' it's dead."

"That plan really isn't well thought out. What if it doesn't work out?" Raven sarcastically inquired. Kresk turned his head back to her a little, sighing out, "I'm sure you two will figure out something." The Fire Demon screamed and charged the Nightmare Beast, the creature charging at the same time. Raven wondered what Kresk was talking about, and suspected that he knew more about her than he let on to. But she didn't ask questions. She just moved out of the way. Kresk fired some blasts from his rifles at the Nightmare Beast as it drew closer. They barely pierced the skin, but did manage a little bleeding. Unfortunately, for a creature as large as the Nightmare Beast, the shots only enraged it. It rammed Kresk with its head, causing a painful gasp to blast out of the demon, his Acheron cigar flying out of his mouth and sending one of the Remington on to the floor. The Fire Demon was now lodged on to the cranium of the horror, his remaining firearm still in his hand. With his free hand, he tried to claw out one of the creature's red eyes. The monster turned away so that all Raven could see was its backside before it charged into another hallway, disappearing into shadow.

Raven heard another explosion from a rifle in the darkness. The Nightmare Beast howled, unseen, in the corridor. Raven ran to see the current massacre unfolding. She almost forgot about Ch'tar as she ran. Her moral conscience urging her to act, she went over to the glabrezu. He looked dead, but Raven couldn't be sure. She would have looked for an artery, but she couldn't be sure if the demon's small hands had the same anatomy as a human, or a humanoid's for that matter. Looking for breathing was useless; demons, of course, don't breathe. Luckily though, when things began to look bleak, Ch'tar let out a canine squeal and moaned something in Abyssal. Raven was able to catch "I…fine. Help…Kresk." She gladly said, "Right." Happy to see the dog demon alive, Raven began to form a plan in her mind.

"AAAAHHH!" Kresk screamed as the Nightmare Beast rushed past Raven's corridor, the battling demon still grasping to its skull. It rammed Kresk into a stone wall, shielding its own head with the fat tanar. But that was not to say it was unscathed. Cuts were all along its head, causing blood to flow along, and the rifle shot Raven heard earlier had blown out an eye. But it still wasn't enough to really kill the creature. Kresk's grip was loosening, and the Fire Demon wasn't looking so good, covered in bruises, and bleeding in a couple of spots, and those were the visible wounds. Kresk didn't fear death, but he feared not being finished with a lot of things before he died. And so, looking at what he though was his demise in its one remaining red eye, began to say his last words, "To the last I-" The Fire Demon was cut short from being rammed into the wall again. Starting again, this time spitting up some blood and with a less conscious voice saying "Towards thee I-" before being stopped from yet another hit into the wall. "Round Perdition's fla-" he sputtered out before he felt the cold rock, now stained with blood, hit his back again. Facing the end, Kresk let go of the Nightmare Beast, pulling his claws out of its flesh, and laying limply in front of the behemoth.

"Kresk!" Raven yelled. The Fire Demon lifted a single claw and moaned out, "With my last breath, I curse Andrew Lloyd Webber." The talon dropped, and the Fire Demon lay still. The Nightmare Beast turned around and looked at Raven, who was now standing at the axis of the four hallways again. It seemed to smile with a crocodile grin, blood pouring down its head and its one eye glowing hatefully. It roared, and began to charge.

Raven ran from the colossus, moving down the rock halls of the cellar as fast as her legs would take her. She had never realized what a pain running was. She was so used to flying or teleporting if she needed to get somewhere. The monster was close behind her, pursuing relentlessly, its massive form causing a terrible sound with its claws scraping on the floor and horrid breath blasting out of the Nightmare Beast's nostrils and mouth. Raven took a left to throw it off, then right, and then straight ahead. 'This isn't good.' the young mage thought to herself. 'Normally this is the part of the movie where someone runs into a dead end.' And sure enough, the next turn led to nowhere. All that was in the corner were three empty burlap sacks. Nothing but another rock wall was ahead. Raven turned around and gasped in terror. Somehow, the Nightmare Beast had just appeared, simply silently stalking up on her. Trapped, Raven wondered what she could do in a panicked frenzy. She thought about praying to something, 'I need a miracle most of all.' Raven desperately told herself, realizing the redundancy of her own statement. And then, Raven felt her. She felt her break through the wall that was Raven's conscious and conscience. And slowly, Raven felt herself lose control of her body, felt the power leave from herself. And drifting into that hellish purgatory state that she was forced into every time Everything She Should Have Been took power, Raven heard in the distance of her perception, "Who needs miracles when you have me?" And then, Raven was gone. All she could do was watch. And the Demon lived again.

The Demon crouched, her feral, serpentine eyes gleaming at the Nightmare Beast, unnerving it, staring it down. She crouched on the ground, her legs ready to spring. The Nightmare Beast charged forward, and instantly, a plan came to the Demon's mind. A quick plan, but deadly in its simplicity, sharp as a dagger. Time slowed for the Demon's mind as the Nightmare Beast ran towards her. When the quadruped was barely an eyelash away, the Demon jumped. She sprang, and with mindless reflexes, leaped on to the Nightmare Beast's head. Here was a claw mark by Kresk, and there a bullet wound, and further up a jagged spine to grab. Each wound by the Fire Demon seemed to be perfectly placed for her in the Demon's mind, each one a handle, a step. She could see the path of wounds like a trail in a forest, all leading to the greatest landmark. In barely a matter of seconds, the Demon, without suffering a scratch, was on the side of the Nightmare Beast's head with a working eye. And with a hideous firmness, a demonic strength, the Demon straightened out her hand and plunged it into the working eye of the monster. And now, the creature blind, the Demon began the second part of her plan.

Ignoring the current gore on her hand, the Demon plunged her straight palm into the Nightmare Beast's eye again. The terror screeched and howled in pain, but it moved. In horrible agony, it ran forward into the dead end wall, the Demon hanging loosely on the side of its head so she could avoid hurting herself. Scampering to the other side of its head, the Demon struck her hand into the other eye, forcing the beast into the wall again. And for a final time, the Demon found a scrap of loose flesh, a claw mark crafted by Kresk, on the center of the head. Grabbing a loose edge, she pulled as hard as she could. As the Nightmare Beast ran forward, the Demon scampered onto its back. For the third and final time, the blind Nightmare Beast drove its head into the wall, using all its might to try and hit an opponent it couldn't see or feel past its thick leather skin. Unconscious, the beast fell to the ground. The Demon perched over the form, listening and waiting. Soon, a scraping, clattering noise came down the hall, following rubble and a small scent of blood. A wounded Ch'tar and Kresk appeared. The Fire Demon walked over to the head of the unconscious Nightmare Beast. He looked at the Demon perching there, into those young snake eyes and smiled at her in pride. Then, taking his Remington, he stuck the rifle point blank to the Nightmare Beast's skull. He only hatefully murmured, "See you in hell." Before releasing a blast. The creature's body seized a tick, and died. Kresk waited for something else to happen, shifting his good eye around. It seemed too easy, just to fight the monster to the ground, nearly die, and then finish the job. And the Nightmare Beast shouldn't have been that stupid. But obviously, it was that easy and the monster was that stupid, no doubt a side effect of its unnatural, arcane fusion with a spell-eater dragon.

And then, what everybody was waiting for happened. Magic flowed back into the area. Upstairs, the lights came back on. Kresk felt arcane fire flow through his veins again, as did his young, insane, heroic apprentice. And with this genesis of enchantment flowing into her, the Demon departed, letting Raven take control for a few mere seconds before she collapsed. Kresk laughed out, "Every time!" as he caught the young mage in his arms while she fell off the Nightmare Beast. Ch'tar said something indiscernible in Abyssal. "Yeah, she'll be fine. She just needs a little rest. We should probably take a little break to. I want to be at full strength when I kill those neeks." Kresk said. Ch'tar blurted something out questionably. "Well of course I'm going after them. I have to finish what I started! But first, let's see if we can't find some healing potions. My bones are more broken than Limbo on Saturday." Nodding in agreement, Ch'tar gimped to search for the tonics.

The Fire Demon, Raven in his arms, limped off to a corridor he remembered passing that had a large amount of burlap sacks. Finding said hallway, Kresk laid Raven's head on one of the bags, before sitting down himself. Curious as to what was inside the totes, Kresk ripped one open. Black wool, dry with age, filled the container to the brim. Of course, it was wool from infernal sheep. Kresk rolled his orange eyes at his own ignorance. Taking out his own small container of healing potion, he pulled off the cork of the flask and drank the medicine down. It tasted horrible, even with the Arborean wine he had thrown in for flavor. Kresk stuck out his forked in disgust, trying to wretch out the taste. He heard Ch'tar laugh behind him, re-emerging from his expedition in the corridors. The howler demon was holding a bag in his smaller set of hands. "What've we got?" Kresk asked. Ch'tar took a seat across from Kresk and opened the pack. The dog demon rummaged through the carrier and withdrew two glass bottles filled with red liquid. Laying the bag down, Ch'tar gently held the two bottles in his pincers. He brought them close to his aging, canine eyes, and seeing that they were what he wanted, opened them with his small hands. He drank down each one, shaking his Great Dane head afterwards.

Kresk scavenged next. A potion of stealth, a potion of fire resistance, a potion of magic restoration, a potion of awakening, and even a potion of flight were unearthed before Kresk found the potions of healing. He chuckled at the potion of flight, a nostalgic smile slipping across his face. Ch'tar looked at the Fire Demon. Kresk, not looking over in Ch'tar's direction quietly said, "I'm the only one of them who can't fly, ya' know. All the rest can shoot through the air like comets, but not me. This might come in useful later." Kresk poured some of the potion into a glass vial and slipped it into a pocket. He picked up another bottle of red potion, and after staring distastefully at it chugged the whole case. He shivered and spit out his tongue again, hacking and wishing for something to wash out the taste of the brew. Ch'tar laughed and grabbed the pack again. He dug around and scooped out a large jug with a cork firmly planted on the top. Three imp skulls decorated the side of the green clay flagon. Kresk saw it and laughed a bit, "Ch'tar, you old dog demon. Pass that stuff over here." The howler demon threw the pitcher over to Kresk. The Fire Demon removed the cork from the top, allowing a scarlet vapor resembling mouths to escape. Taking a fast swig, he pressed the bottle to his mouth drank in quick, and withdrew in a flash. He felt the daemon brandy, made of the pure, liquefied essence of pain, crawl down his throat, leaving and indescribable, stinging pain to cling to the inside of his mouth. The Fire Demon screamed out in agony, breathing a jet of flame out as tears of blood welled in his eyes. When the pain had stopped, he laughed a little bit, coughing out smoke with the hearty chuckles. The drink had restored Kresk to full health, his wounds healed (save for the scars, which he liked to keep) and his vigor restored. Ch'tar guzzled a bit, and, shaking his mongrel head, let out a loud howl. The two demons sat and chuckled for a while, imagining the idiocy of the scene in their minds.

Kresk looked over at Raven and wondered why the noise hadn't woken her up. He drifted his eyes over her, checking everything; her chakra lines, her humours, her arcane and elemental flows, as well as normal, human qualities, like heartbeat and breathing. Everything checked out normally. 'Demon must've done a number this time.' Kresk thought to himself. Kresk withdrew a small cup from his pockets, and poured a health potion into it, along with one drop of daemon brandy. Moving towards Raven, he lifted her head gingerly, and pressed the cup to her lips, allowing a tiny bit of the liquid to pour down her throat. A few seconds later, Raven woke up, unleashing an unearthly scream that nearly cracked Ch'tar's skull. And, a bit like Kresk, the howl was accompanied by a burst of black flame. Raven coughed a few more flames out, her throat still stinging from the tonic. Kresk merely waited for a flare and desperately tried to light a much-needed cigar on it, to no avail. Raven wheezed out, "Kresk, what the Hell?!" Kresk started laughing at hearing Raven swear for the first time.

And he continued laughing until Raven punched him in the arm, after which he laughed even harder. She stared a Kresk with a gaze to turn milk sour before harshly saying, "It's not that funny." Kresk finished laughing, saying, "Yes it is." Raven only huffed. "Ah come on," Kresk pleaded, "I had to wake you up. There's work to be done, and little time to do it."

"You're immortal. Can't you just wait?"

"Child of mine, you mistake immortality for patience. Now, do some of that divination crap you do. I need to know where the neeks are making their nest."

"Why?"

"To be a god."

"What?"

"You'll understand when we get there. Now just divine for me."

Finding the nest was the easy part for Raven. It was just a matter of astrally projecting herself through the walls and following one of the scurrying rodents. The neeklas had apparently turned a section of the cellar into a fortress, blocking doors and hallways with junk and rocks and constructing miniature traps. Kresk didn't care. He and Ch'tar broke old stone walls down with exploding fireballs and monstrous pincers. The neeks that attacked were dispensed of quickly with arcane embers, while the ones that didn't die tried to run into the walls. But Kresk formed a barrier of fire over the cracks. The neeks looked up at the Fire Demon in fear and awe. Kresk raised his height to eight feet tall, having to bend over to fit in the room. He widened his eyes, flared his nostrils, bared his teeth, changed the hue of his skin to red, and breathed fire out with every word that he spoke. Magnifying his voice, Kresk shouted in Abyssal to the conclave of neeks, "I am the Fire Demon Kresk! Behold my sheer magnificence! Know this, you filthy rodents! I am a GOD! You have but two choices before you; bow down and worship me, or die!" He ended this last remark by shooting a stream of flame from his mouth. The neeks cowered in Kresk's shadow, the reflection of his fire in their eyes. Then, one of the rodents ran and tried to leap at Kresk's face, sword in hand. Kresk merely unleashed a fireball on the minute vermin, leaving only a charred husk to fall to the ground. Kresk moved his eyes over the furry mob, before yelling out "Anybody else?!" The neeks only cringed and huddled closer. "Good." He said, "Now, bow." One by one, the neeklas bowed down to the new god and his pantheon (that is to say, Raven and Ch'tar).

"And now…spread the word!" Kresk screamed. The neeks dispersed into the walls as Kresk took down the flaming blockade. Returning to his normal form, Kresk whipped soot and dust off his robe. Raven blankly looked at him and asked, "Was that really necessary?"

"All a matter of presentation, child of mine. Now, you two stay put. I'll be back in a minute."

"Where-" But before Raven could finish her question, Kresk was gone, running through the hole in the wall he and Ch'tar had made to get to this room. Raven waited patiently, tapping her foot as she looked for the Fire Demon's return. Ch'tar glared down at Raven, annoyed at her tapping foot. The young mage, stopped, looked at the howler demon and realized that a strand of her hair was in her vision. She considered moving it, but then thought about how much she kind of liked it. It was a little bit of chaos manifesting on her usual form (the Demon excluded), and added something to her mystique. So Raven just let the strand hang there limply. She almost didn't hear the thumping sound coming down the hall. Kresk shouted out, "Gain way!" Raven and Ch'tar stepped away as the obsidian minotaur charged through the hole, knocking loose some stones with its broad horns. The construct was fully alive now, the blocky stone form moving in total reality. The obsidian minotaur charged for the opposing wall, and Raven saw an arcane seal on its back, the sign of a Demon Prince; a twisted circular maze awash in blood, the symbol of Baphomet, Lord of the Endless Maze.

The obsidian minotaur, obviously a construct based off of a golem of one kind or another, burst through the wall to the other room. It stood perfectly still as dozens of neeks tried to damage its stone skin, to no avail. Kresk yelled, "Now!" The minotaur started to 'breathe' in. Kresk screamed to Raven, "Kid, put up a shield!" Raven formed an orb of shadow around her, Kresk, and Ch'tar. Observing the minotaur, she watched as it 'exhaled' shooting some kind of gas from its nostrils and mouth. When the smoke cleared, the neeks seemed to be just frozen. Raven let down the shield, and was horrified to see the little creatures had been turned to stone, as gray and dead as the rock they laired in.

"Charge the next two walls! The leader can't be too far off!" The minotaur, not even acknowledging that it heard Kresk charged through the next wall, destroying a wave of petrified neeklas. It hit the next wall and disappeared into a poorly lit room. Kresk, Raven, and Ch'tar followed it into the newly open room, but were unable to advance far. The main defenses of the neeks rested in this room; the might of their army and elite soldiers, traps, and even miniature catapults. The trio went back to back, Kresk facing the other room. In perfect imitation of a general, the Fire Demon snorted out, "Cover me. I have to kill the cancer to save the body!" He shot a massive cone of fire from his free hand (his other still holding a Remington), clearing a path to the next room.

Ch'tar struck out at masses of neeks, blocking arrows and small rocks with his pincers. Then, he started to use his magic. Barking something out, Ch'tar unleashed an explosion of leaping, ricocheting energy at a group of neeks, blasting them helter skelter. Looking over to a separate group, the glabrezu barked another word, and the whole cluster floated up into the air. Towards a new battalion, Ch'tar stared and howled softly. The group of vermin dispersed, insane and confused, their minds splitting. To add to this group's insanity, Ch'tar conjured a mirror in front of them and several other squadrons. And finally, the dog demon howled into the air, summoning six dretches to do his bidding. They skittered about and randomly killed anything smaller and weaker than them. Ch'tar resumed battling with his claws.

Raven was only using non-lethal blasts to knock some of the neeks away and drive them to unconsciousness. It was working so far, as she was only suffering some minor cuts from the occasional shuriken. Looking into the throng, Raven saw that some of the neeks were infighting. The rebels stood under a banner separate from the leaders; the anarchist's flag depicted something big, red, and fiery. Then, Raven quickly realized that the streamers showed a crude depiction of Kresk. In the brief five minutes between Kresk's manifesto and this battle, a small sect of the neeklas had turned over to worshipping and following Kresk. Of course, only a few of these rodents saw Kresk as a new power of religion; most simply didn't like the way the current neekla society was being run and were aiming for revolution. They merely used Kresk as a symbol, an excuse for this open rebellion. And in the end, Raven concluded, this is exactly what the old, fat demon would want. Raven formed another shield, blocking a barrage of pygmy arrows.

Meanwhile, Kresk confronted the mastermind behind the neeklas' current government. At the end of the room, a small shrine was centered on what Kresk thought was a rock, two small braziers at its side. Before he could investigate any further though, the elite neekla Kresk had seen earlier charged him, jumping high into the air, katanas drawn and poised to strike. Kresk, without a second thought blasted a fireball at all them, incinerating them in mid-air (he never tired of that trick). Save one. The leader, now charred, disgraced, and deformed, took out a wakizashi, and determined to die with honor, began to perform ritual suicide. Kresk would not allow this tiny pest that respect, and merely shot it to smithereens with the Remington.

Now Kresk was free to devote his attentions to the deformed boulder. The stone was covered in metal trinkets, treasure to the neeklas that worshiped it. Kresk began to pick up the rock and found it surprisingly light. He brought it to his face and saw a crack forming a hemisphere around the boulder. The crack opened slightly. Kresk brought his face closer, trying to peer in. Two tentacles shot out and wrapped around Kresk's face. The Fire Demon tried to pry away, but the rock had a mind of its own. It stuck a tentacle into one of his nostrils, and another into his mouth. Kresk could smell sweat and mildew, dirt and spit. He tasted the ooze coming off of the tentacle. Kresk bit down on the tentacle. The 'boulder' let go off his face, but Kresk did not surrender the tentacle in his jaws until he had bitten it off. Afterwards, he threw the 'rock' to the ground, and spit out the excrement. "Illith slime. So, an Incubus Chest is causing all this?" Kresk said to himself. Yes, an Incubus Chest it was, Kresk knew. Failed creations of Socothbenoth, they were created to appeal to all the perverse fetishes of all beings in the multiverse, especially those with a tentacle bent. However, said perverts were more than a little deranged, and so Socothbenoth formed the Chest's minds around the pure essence of madness. Needless to say, the monsters were totally insane, transmitting innuendo across as complete idiotic rambling, such as 'Celery red heart blue rainbow scribble?' or such. Soc considered them a massive failure, and so, like many Demon Princes, attempted to destroy any and all signs that he had ever tried the experiment by killing off the chests. This, apparently, was the last in existence that had formed a small cult for itself out of the neeks.

Kresk turned the Incubus Chest on its back and started banging on the hemisphere with the end of his rifle, grunting out, "I…will…not…be…screwed…by…an oyster!" The chest still refused to open. "Open the chest." Kresk ordered the obsidian minotaur. The construct tried to open the chest with its hands, to no avail. "Ram it!" Kresk ordered. The minotaur put the chest on its head, between its horns, and charged for the wall. The construct rammed the Incubus Chest into the wall, again and again and again, until at last Kresk saw the opening was now growing wider. "Stop." The old demon ordered. The minotaur ceased its assault. Kresk removed the Incubus Chest from the top of its head. Before the shell could close, Kresk stuck his fingers in and pried the chest open. The inside of the Incubus Chest was really, as Kresk had described, more like an oyster's. It was mostly empty, save for a bit of slime here and there, as well as the throbbing core. The hear of the chest, where the pseudopods sprang from, was a gunky mass of soft, pink flesh that ended in a large head shaped lump. Emerging from the tumorous head, two blank eyes stared at Kresk. No mouth was present, but Kresk could hear the incubus chest screaming in his head. 'And you damn well should be.' The Fire Demon thought to the creature.

Kresk spat out, unleashing a small fireball into the cavernous shell. It didn't do anything, just floated in midair. Kresk let go of the shell, dropping it to the ground, as the Incubus Chest clamped shut. He kicked it to the entrance of the room, the hole in the wall. Looking over the melee, he whistled sharply. The neeks looked over, seeing their god now. Kresk placed a single, jagged, cloven hoof on the shell. The Fire Demon snapped with his free, clawed hand. Inside the Incubus Chest, the fireball exploded. The burst was enough to crack the shell open, as fire and slime was spewed out of the now dead 'god'. It splattered onto some of the horrified neeks. The army dropped their weapons and surrendered. The neeklas bowed down and begged for mercy from the new 'god', allowing some of them to be eaten by dretches. All Kresk did was grin, light another cigar, and inhaled deeply. Looking out over the neeks, Kresk pointed to his fanatics, that is to say those that he sensed actually thought he was a god and feared him the most, and said, "You lot, come with me." The neeks stepped forward and clung to the edges of Kresk's robe. Staring at the rest, Kresk arrogantly said, "The rest of you…start working on my temple." The neeklas nodded their head in fear. Kresk signaled to Raven, the obsidian minotaur, and Ch'tar, walking out of the room back to his house. And later on, old neeklas would regale their grandchildren with stories about the day the blood-soaked gods of war came with wrath and fury.

Kresk trudged up out of the cellar, the lights now on in the house again. He threw the Remington down on the floor, sat down, and plopped his hooves onto his desk, throwing his head back in exhaustion. Raven came back up, followed by Ch'tar, the obsidian minotaur, and the group of fanatic neeklas. Ch'tar waited for the extremist rodents to exit before, with the help of the minotaur, he picked up the cellar door with his massive claws and slammed it shut, dislodging more books from Kresk's shelf. Kresk blew smoke from his nostrils in stress, but was too tired to care. As Ch'tar and the minotaur rolled back the carpet, Raven began to put manuscripts back on the bookshelf, and the clerical neeklas gathered around Kresk as he lay in a tired stupor. Ch'tar left for the main room, while the minotaur only stood there, waiting for orders. Kresk wheezed out, "Now, wasn't that fun, kiddo? Nightmare Beast, Incubus Chest, and demonic ninja squirrels all in the same day. All a full day's work for us."

Raven only heard Kresk say something, but she wasn't sure what. It occurred to the young mage that between the roars, explosions, gunfire, and screaming, her hearing might have been damaged a little. She said (unwittingly yelling), "What did you say? I couldn't hear you. I think I might have gone a little deaf down there." Kresk realized what had happened. Searching through his pockets, he pulled out a potion he kept at all times. The glass vial was labeled 'Mage Restoration', guaranteed to cure hearing and speech problems. Shouting, the Fire Demon yelled, "Catch!" and threw the bottle to the shadow walker. Raven turned just in time to catch the container. She was used to drinking and preparing potions; it was part of her craft. So after reading the label, she drank it easily in one swift gulp. And just like that, Raven could hear again and, oddly enough, was able to speak more fluently. She looked over to Kresk and, once again unintentionally yelling said, "Thank (catching her voice volume and lowering it mid-sentence, after pausing a moment in embarrassment) you." Kresk only raised a tired hand and formed the 'OK' sign.

Looking at his feet, the Fire Demon saw that the neeklas were avidly staring at him. He stared back and laid his head down again. Looking back with one eye, he saw that the demonic ninja squirrels were still standing there. "Aw, what?!" Kresk yelled. One of the neeklas, the current 'high priest' of Kresk, stepped forward, and squeaked something. Kresk groaned out in Abyssal, "I don't know, find something to do by yourself." Kresk had not actually made any plans for after he was 'deified', he just wanted the fame. The neek squeaked something again. Kresk snapped, "Well I'm not the Incubus Chest! Your last god was an insane, perverted clam that never should have been created. I'm just an insane fatso with lots and lots of power." The head neek continued its chirping in a falsetto sermon. At last, Kresk relented and said, "Fine. If you want something to do so bad, help my apprentice reshelf the books." The priest piped a question. Kresk, annoyed, retorted, "No, I will not say it in the old tongue." The neek tried to retort before Kresk yelled out, "What part of 'nay' dost thou not understandeth, arch-cleric?! Now go forth and shelf my tomes!" The neeks scattered and tried to help Raven with the books.

Raven watched as the neeks attempted to put the grimoires in their proper place, strapping them to their back and scuttling up the shelves. She wondered why the minotaur did not help, forgetting for a moment that it was a construct. The obsidian minotaur only stood there, awaiting a voice or command to give it life through the command of service. Raven asked Kresk, "What will happen to him?" she nodded over to the minotaur. The Fire Demon wheezed out, "I don't know. I don't have any use for him. Gods below know I have enough servants and slaves as it is." There was a moment of silence, aside from the shuffling of dusty manuscripts, before Kresk said, "You keep it."

"What?"

"You heard me. You keep the obsidian minotaur. Surely you could use it for something. Have you got a vault?"

"A what?"

"A vault. You know, a little demi-plane of your own." Raven thought about the sub-dimension that was her intellect, but didn't think it was wise to put something as powerful as the golem in there. She hesitantly said, "No."

"Alright. I'll come up and install one."

"I'm fine just with my room. Besides, why would I need one?"

"Haven't I already explained this to you? You don't need one. It's just having it. After me, how many people do you know with their own demi-plane?" Raven's thoughts went to Malchior and Rorek's prison. Kresk snorted out at Raven's hesitance, "After the stupid dragon that hit on you, and that blue moron in the hat that defiles the very word 'magician'."

"None."

"Exactly. So, I'll see what I can't scrounge up in Sigil. Plane seeds aren't cheap, mind you. I might only be able to pull up a small room or something." Kresk was silent for a while. He stared up at the ceiling reflecting on the day. He had almost died, or so he believed. He was an old demon, and the end was not far away for him in his mind's eye. There was a lot to lose for him, not his wealth, his legacy. And not his demonic memory in this world, a younger one. The Fire Demon did not fear death; no he feared something much worse. His fear was that he would be forgotten, that no one would carry on his empire of arcane knowledge. No one would carry his title for him, his place among them and all that represented. Raven had learned from him, she was his 'apprentice', but it was a casual title at best. What he sought was an Apprentice, someone to carry his name among them. But it had been so long. Were the others even still alive? But either way, he was determined to craft Raven into an Apprentice. She was strong, smart, and had all the wits and knowledge needed for the job. As had been written in the old tome, she was, in a word, exceptional. When she wasn't looking, Kresk swerved an eye onto her, and murmured out, "It shines there like a beacon, amidst the steel and chrome. A slender thread, it beams ahead, and points the way back home."

But even if he wanted to make her his Apprentice, he couldn't without a sign. He was still unsure about whether they were alive, whether they would accept her. Surely the others would have left this plane long ago. What the old Fire Demon need was a rekindling, a sign. Raven hovered down from where she had placed a book on the top shelf. She was holding an ancient frame in her hands. Kresk was only staring at the ceiling dreaming of a sign from above and below, when it came in Raven's soft voice asking, "Hey Kresk, who's this in this picture with you?"

The old demon smiled.

Yes, it had come.

Raven walked towards Kresk in his chair.

She was ready to be one of THEM.

She was right next to Kresk's chair with the old photograph.

She was ready to be an Apprentice.

Raven wiped off some of the dust from the picture, the gray contrasting with her own dusky skin.

She was ready to be an Arcanist.

"Who, kiddo?" Kresk asked, feigning innocence. Raven stuck the photo in Kresk's face. The traces of where her hand had wiped away dust showed most of the picture. The picture was black and white, bleaching out colors. In the image, Kresk stood smiling and laughing. To his right, a jolly man about his age smiled wide on a broad, plump and cheerful face. His bald head was shielded with a bandanna bearing an odd symbol. A set of wide, thick pilot goggles covered his eyes. The dark vest over his jovial torso was covered in pockets of numerous shapes and sizes. His baggy pants were only a little lighter than the color of his vest, matching the tone of the shirt he wore underneath the coat. A large pair of boots hid his feet, and gloves the same darkness were on his hands. And yet, despite his dark clothes, even the old picture made the man look like good and peaceful, happy and incapable of anger. All in all, he looked like a perky storm cloud.

To Kresk's right was a much younger looking man, barely older than Raven or Cyborg, truth to tell. He was an oriental boy, with a long face that reminded Raven of a colt (not a horse, as that implied something older). His bright, almond-shaped eyes danced with a mischievous gleam. A long mane of hair flowed down his head and neck, but it looked wet, like a waterfall. It was evident from its raggedness that the young sir's hair had been pushed out of his eyes just for this picture. He wore only a long robe that look wrinkled in spots, like a running river. To summarize, the boy looked like a living column of water.

And in the back a third man stood in the distance, facing away from the camera. Raven couldn't make out any details of him, other than he was huge, a mountain to be sure. Kresk chuckled out, "Why, that's the old Arcanists picture! I wondered where it had gone. There's Bert," he pointed to the plump man at his right, "And that's Drake," Kresk directed his finger to the youngest subject, "And that's Nid." Kresk's claw resting on the mysterious figure in the back "We were the Arcanists. Our own private, secret society."

"What did you do?"

"Nothing in particular. Mostly we just had extravagant meetings every now and then. We liked to stay in touch. But alas, I have not heard from the other in so long. It is a shame the elements should die like this."

"The elements?"

"It's a figure of speech. Each of chose our own element that we represented. I, of course, was fire. Nid was earth, Drake was water, and Bert was air. It's been so long since I saw them last. I wonder if they're still alive sometimes. I know Drake can't be dead; he was only 324 when I last saw him. Barely an adult by dragon's standards."

"Dragon?"

"Yes, Drake was a Lung dragon, or what you might call an oriental dragon. Specifically, he was a Chiang Lung, a river dragon. But he was never truly faithful to his race; most Lung dragons are orderly, lawful. Drake was chaotic, a free spirit. He wandered between China and Japan, and eventually flew over to America, where the natives saw him as a rain serpent, a spirit. They weren't too far off. His real name, unoriginally, is Tatsu-Chiang-Rainsnake. A little pseudonym he crafted. It's much longer in his native tongues, but he shortened it for our sake. We only called him Drake because that's what Nid called him."

"Why?"

"Because Nid also was a dragon, but a much, much older one. He's a chromatic, a green. For the longest time we did not know his name, so we only called him 'Dragon'. He doesn't like Drake because the Lung is young and naive. Nid is bitter and callous, a truly ancient monster. I don't think I've ever seen him smile in all my years of knowing him. But back to the point. Since he was 'Dragon' and Tatsu was a lesser being to him, he started calling Tatsu 'Drake', lesser dragon. It just caught on. But I digress. None of us have spoken for so long, not since Nid accidentally killed his last Apprentice."

"How do you 'accidentally' kill somebody?"

"Nid's a hard ass when it comes to his apprentices. He believes that might makes right, so he constantly pushes his students to their limits. Sooner or later, the ones that don't die go insane. But the ones that live become some of the greatest fighters in the world, powerful and nearly unstoppable. They can almost perfectly control their element, but that can be said of all Arcanists. But like I said, Nid usually pushes them over the edge. Still, I wish I could see em' again. But I don't have any reason to waste all that time, especially without an Apprentice of my own."

"I thought I was your apprentice."

"Yes, you're my apprentice to a degree, meaning you wander in here every now and then and learn a new spell. But you are not an apprentice of the Sacred Order of the Arcanists. That is, unless of course you want to join." Kresk smiled, barely holding back the anticipation in his voice. Raven asked, a tone of suspicion in her voice, "What happens if I do?" Kresk grinned even wider, "That all depends on you, child of mine. So, yes or no?" Raven hesitated for a moment before she said, "Fine. After all, what's the harm?"

"Exactly. Now, wait one second." Kresk went to the old chest in his office, rummaged like a dog for a bone, and pulled out a long, flame red candle. He sat back down at his desk, and used one of his claws to cut a smaller candle from the bottom of the progenitor. He sharpened the edge of the new flare until the wick revealed itself to him. Lighting a flame in his hands, Kresk ignited the larger candle, and handed the smaller one to Raven. Trying to sound dignified, he boomed out, "Now, do you, Raven Roth, Daughter of the Demiurge Graz'zt, do you solemnly take up the title of Apprentice to the Arcanist of Fire Kreskarius Voneitz, and all that entitles?"

"What does that entitle?"

"Don't be a smart-alek. Just say yes."

"Yes."

"Alright then." Kresk lighted Raven's candle with his. Then he took both of them and put them in a candle-bra on his desk. The flames had turned red, but didn't give off much light. Raven waited for something else to happen. She looked at Kresk and said, "That's it?"

"That's it, presuming I'm the last Arcanist alive."

"What happens if you're not?"

"Like I said, that all depends on you, child of mine. That all depends on you. Now move along. I need you to make preparations for tonight." Raven looked at the candles one last time before she walked away. Kresk waited till she was out of earshot before he started laughing. He couldn't stop, he was just so damn happy. The Arcanists might reform! But when? When was the sign? Tonight! Of course. Bert had made it the anniversary of the Perseid. Kresk danced a little and looked at his pocket watch. The night was so far off. How would he survive until then? But it didn't matter. The Arcanists might be back, if the stars were right. He laughed and sang in Abyssal, his banshee wails splitting the neeklas' ears.

Kresk tapped his hoof impatiently has he watched the night sky through the window in Titan's Tower. He could barely see any stars from all the lights in the city. It had been a good prank, this one. Raven had pulled out the quija board and pretended to be possessed. Kresk pulled out all of his favorite old tricks after his apprentice 'fainted'; the walls bled, furniture floated, and Kresk's gravelly voice filled the room. The other Titans, terrified, fled. Kresk laughed with his apprentice; he had found that she had developed a cruel streak in her at one point or another. Tomorrow Raven would pretend to forget anything happened at all, and any evidence to the contrary would be gone. It was an old joke Kresk found was even funnier in this new day and age, with all its cold science that robbed magic of its beauty.

Raven incinerated one last charm she had left on the floor before she decided to turn in. Looking at Kresk, she saw him longingly stare at the few stars. She smiled before she said, "Goodnight Kresk."

"Night' kiddo. Sweet dreams. Cut the light on the way out." Raven smirked again before she walked out, flipping the light-switch on her way out. Kresk stood there in the darkness, his eyes glowing orange, contrasting the blue light flowing through the window. And still, he looked at the sky. And then…

There. A light in the city went out. And another. And then another one. Soon, every light in Jump City was out. It wasn't a complete blackout, just the lights. Kresk tapped his foot even faster, a little more than his heart.

And lo, in some northern corner of the sky, a meteor flew by. The reflection streaked on Kresk's eye, cutting the orange with a slice of blue-white. And then another comet did the same. And as if all the dead lights in Jump City had risen to the heavens, hordes of shooting stars flew across the evening cosmos. But Kresk did not see that group. By then, he was already running to the stairs that led to the roof of Titan's Tower. He wasted no time, moving as fast as his hooves would take him. He hit the wall of the staircase, and made a sharp turn. He didn't remember getting to the roof. He just remembered the stars.

Faster than angels falling from Heaven, faster than fireflies dancing, faster than lightning on the Plane of Air, the stars shot by the dozens. Kresk lifted his arms to the sky and started laughing and dancing. His howls rang through out the quiet bay, and the Fire Demon fell on his knees and laugh before he heard him.

"Mr. Kresk!" A young voice like a smooth brook yelled out. And in the distance, Kresk saw a Lung dragon coming. Drake, in his reptilian form, shot down to where Kresk was now standing and swiftly picked the Fire Demon up with his teeth, tossing him into the air so that Kresk landed on his back. "Mr. Drake!" Kresk jokingly yelled into the dragon's bovine ear. The two laughed as they raced beyond the reach of the city, to where only the night sky showed over a calm ocean.

"Ahoy!" A jolly, light voice sounded behind the two. Bert shot beyond the two, as quick as static electricity. He circled back, laughing dancing around the other two as they stared at the shooting stars. "Where's Nid?" Drake screeched. As if to answer, the ocean below began boiling. A massive explosion erupted forth, carrying a wall of water with it. Emerging from the pillar, a gargantuan dragon, its plated scales a deep green, spread its massive, tattered wings. A ridge started at its ancient head and ran down its neck, ending at its tail. Opening its crocodilian jaws, it spewed forth a jet of acidic gas into the air, leaving a scent of chlorine. Unleashing a horrendous, bellowing roar, Nid flapped his massive wings, not saying anything, his entrance doing enough. And to those around him, he almost seemed to be laughing, if such a things was possible.

For hours the four flew about, watching the stars come down, listening to the calls of heaven. All the while they planned and discussed their apprentices, and the journey that lay ahead. Yes, for the first time in years, the Arcanists were re-united. No one could possibly understand what this meant, how important this event was, and that was the way the four liked it.

The sky is alive on a mid-summer night
Before the moon comes rising
Stars will dance with their ribbons of light
Stretching to the far horizon

- John McCutcheon, 'The Perseid'