Days later, I still couldn't explain how it had vanished from my cell. The guards said I'd gotten a fever and passed out; no one but myself in the room. I'd told them often of the person but they always said I was hallucinating. I didn't agree with them any more than they agreed to let me go free. So I sat in my cell for days on end.

Once maybe twice a week (my days were mixed up for lack of an accurate way to tell time, and having no view of the sun from my cell) the guards shoved all the prisoners outside for 'excercise'. This got most of them into fights, myself one memorable occasion, a man decided I was the best thing he was getting in prison and tried to grab me. He took a head-long trip into the wall of the yard, then to the hospital. I, however, was sent to solitary.

The solitary cells were not as bad as the normal ones, at least, they weren't for me because these cells were on the very top floors of the Bastion. Here the windows were much bigger, but nobody wanted to escape by jumping out. The last person who had, had left splatter marks on the cobblestones below.

I was alone, but far more aware of the passage of time. This suited me just fine. So many months passed so slowly. I filched a piece of charcoal, with which I could write my thoughts on the walls. And in an otherwise featureless cell, there were so many thoughts. None of them made any sense for more than a few lines. I would occasionally remember songs I had learned as a child and I would sing them repeatedly while I wrote them down. And other times I would tell myself short little stories that went on for a few feet then trailed into meaningless ramblings.

Slowly, I forgot about my dream of Death and Dream, but that androgynous figure still haunted me on occasion. My mind knew the three were connected. Subconsciously, I'd already figured it out, but my conscious and my subconscious never seemed to be on speaking terms with each other.

Then, I got released.


The pair of guards from outside my cell paraded in, with a man between them. He had long red-gold hair, tied back loosely as was the fashion for nobles, and skin that told of many days under the sun. By the look on his face, he was impressed by the amount of writing I'd done. It went up the walls and parts of the ceiling in small spidery lettering. One guard bowed to him and said gruffly, "We will await you and the young lady outside, MiLord."

Once the guards had left, the lord's features changed. His hair shortened to just below his ears, and his eyes had been gray but they now faded to shifting reds and oranges and blacks. His fine clothes now looked more like war regalia than silk and velvet. I probably looked as nervous and edgy as I felt and the window looked pretty good right about now because a soft smile broke his grim expression and a deep laugh shook his large frame. He must've read my thoughts because he shrank about six inches until we stood eye to eye and said "Don't worry, little one. My sister Death asked me to come collect you. They seem to be ready for you now."

I managed to squeak, "Who are you?" as he picked me up and put me on his shoulders like I was a small child. We, well he, walked out of the room and, as he crossed the threshold, he was once again a tall, fine lord. He didn't speak, and motioned for me not to, until we'd gone down the large spiral staircase, and out the giant double oak doors of the front gate. In the stable, and away from the guards, he set me on a warhorse of a Clydesdale as tall as he was, and led it out into the woods.

Out of the Bastion, he resumed what i figured was his true appearance and said, "I am call Destruction around the other Endless, but the people of the lands around here call me Lord Loup. I would rather you didn't though." I twisted atop the russet horse to look down at my rescuer. He smiled pathetically and I figured he wasn't proud of having the title. If I had to guess, he couldn't have been much older than twenty. Trying to act calm, I stiffly replied, "I'm Kaiyali Moondancer."

Destruction laughed, that deep booming laugh that shivered through my bones. Patting the horse's flank, he shook his head, "No, Miss, not for long. The trials will change you."

When he said the word 'trials' I started feeling sick. My head started pounding furiously and I could hear the roar of my own blood in my ears. My fingers hurt and my legs tingled as if I'd been in the saddle far too long. Yalith Spiritstone, my old caravan's mystic woman, had always said that words had power, but I'd never believed her until now. Before I passed out, Destruction clamped a hand on my shoulder and steadied me. "Whoa girl! You get sick in that prison or something?"

His voice dragged me back into reality and I leaned forward onto the horse's neck, letting it's blonde mane soak up the beads of sweat from my head. I groaned, "What t-trials?" For a being named 'destruction' once he saw that I was alright, he was cheerful about things.

"They happen every once in a while, except you happened nowhere near any others so we have to move you. An Endless will have a half mortal successor and we have to find them before they break something important like the time continuum. The tri-," He stopped himself when I started turning green again, "They're used to figure out who is the child of who, because all the offspring are transferred to human parents so the Endless can resume their lives and duties." He explained. From my position on the horse, I vaguely noticed while he spoke, that our surroundings shifted from the forest to a large field with a large dark blue castle in the center of it. Leaning face down on the horse, I had a clear view of the ground we walked over. Or rather, the lack of ground. The tall grass around us wasn't planted in soil. It simply faded into nothingness. We were even stepping on anything!

I sat bolt upright and Destruction caught the mortified look plastered on my face. He patted me on the back, "Delirium won't let either of us fall. Although she has been known to play some pretty mean tricks."

Like Delirium, whoever she was, had heard him the 'ground' suddenly heaved a foot upward. I didn't have time to react before it then jerked another three feet back down again. The charger reared madly, starting to gallop towards the castle. I hung on for dear life, praying that I would live long enough to find out what the hell was going on. But my faith was sorely shaken as all my sense of reality had, so far, gone right out the proverbial window.

The horse stopped at the castle gates and, forgetting my fear of the not-ground, I slid off it's back, too tired to be scared anymore. Destruction came up beside me, not out of breath in the least. He picked me up like a sack of potatoes and carried me through the front gates. I was also far too tired to notice much of anything until he laid me down on something soft. Without the usual thought for my own safety, I slept, sinking into dreamless darkness.

"Good luck Miss Moondancer. I'm afraid you'll need it."


Disclaimer: Once again, if I owned The Sandman, it would be crap, because I don't have the creativity that Neil Gaiman does. (Hoshi: And It would be rated X...) True, true.

And thank you to my one reviewer Kurama'srose124 and everybody else who liked people have no idea how good the sugar high of joy I get when I see reviews feels like. And to the people who didn't review and would/should have, please do! I don't bite! (Hoshi: Yeah, most of the time she's bluffing.) I'll bluff you!