Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Disney, Square Enix or Detective Comics. They rightfully belong to their respective owners.
"Speech"
'Thoughts'
Radio/TV
"Headset/Flashback"
-Scene Shift-
Chapter 2: Imperfect Hosts
Within the borders of Morpheus' realm lies a dark, misty graveyard. Around the vicinity is the ever shifting land where sleeping individuals briefly roam pass through scraps of dreams.
Whereas these people are temporary guests, there are permanent residents in the Dreaming. Lesser gods, mythic creatures and unworldly souls dwell here. Even before Morpheus was abducted, his nebulus domain was considered a paradise.
Looking past the decrepit trees, foliage, the tombstones and gravemarkers lies a pair of sharp roof, black gabled houses. One of Secrets and one of Mystery. Each might as well have arisen from the darkest of nightmares. By the size of them, they might as well be argued to be mansions. And their occupants constantly go through a cycle of death and rebirth.
"Don't be a moronic lump of blubbering, quaking, pathetic lard! Open the box! Unwrap it!"
"Uh, b-but it isn't my birthday…"
"Of course it isn't your birthday, powderbrain. You don't have a birthday."
"Umm… No. I, uh… don't, do I?"
Inside of the foyer of the House of Mystery lies a pair of men with pointed ears as they were situated near a fireplace with a raging fire.
One was tall and thin, wearing a brown suit to match his hair which was styled into sharp horns jetting out of the side. Placed at the bridge of his nose, in front of his light brown eyes, lies a pair of spectacles. And his beard was like a billy goat as it puffed out at the end.
The other was short and pleasantly plump, wearing a black suit as it matched his light, slicked black hair which was poofy off the sides. His beard was short and trimmed, hardly hiding the quivering lip.
These were Cain and Abel, the Biblical Father of Murder and the First Victim respectively.
"So open it."
Abel viewed the nicely wrapped box with his near blackened eyes as fear slowly rose through his veins. His hands tightly grasped the ends of his armchair with sweat rolling down his digits. "You, uh, p-promise it isn't going to, hmmm, explode? Promise?" He asked his older brother.
"Now, why would I give you an exploding present?" Questioned Cain with a risen brow. "What kind of a brother would I be if I did that?"
"My kind of b-brother. The, uh, the kind who kills me whenever he's, uh… mad at me or bored or just in a lousy m-mood."
Abel lost count at the number of times he died by his brother's hand. Ever since that fateful day in the gardening field, the second son of Adam and Eve had risen time and time again some time later after he was beaten, stabbed, drowned and many other means of killing.
"Hehh~ Let's let fraternal bygones be bygones, eh, pudgy? Now…" Cain suddenly grabbed his younger brother's arms rather tightly and got in quite close to his face with an utter snarl. "Just open your blasted present!"
Before Abel could get the chance to open the gift, there was quite the loud banging at the front door.
"What was that?"
"I, uh, I think it's someone at the door. Well, something at the door, anyway." Abel pointed out.
Puffing out a bit of air from his mouth, Cain pulled his brother out of the armchair and dragged him out of the foyer. "Well, let's see."
"D-Don't you think we ought to, e-uh, hmmm, wait for a while? I-uh-I, mm, well… I mean… Maybe it'll go away on it's own?"
"Shut up, Abel." Said Cain as he continued dragging his quivering brother to the front door. Once there, the Father of Murder spoke up. "Who's there? Who is it?"
"AAAAAAWUUURGK!"
The sound was reptilian and primal, something which Cain recognized all too well.
"It's only Gregory."
"M-Maybe it's ruh-really something pretending to be G-G-Gregory… something big and nuh-nasty!"
"Don't be pathetic. Why would something big and nasty pretend to be Gregory?" Cain then smirked as he pushed his brother in front of him. "But just to be on the safe side, you can open the door."
Seeing as he had no choice in the matter, Abel complied. Slowly turning the doorknob, he creaked open the door. There he saw Gregory right on the front porch, sitting patiently like a huge scaly green dog. He is of the gargoyle race at a size of a small dragon, which is to say while seated he towers over the first sons of Adam and Eve.
"Now, come to think of it, Gregory is extraordinarily big and nasty in his own right, anyway." Cain said from a safe spot, not wanting to get killed from whatever is out there. "It is Gregory, isn't it?"
"AAAAAAWUUURGK!"
"Y-Yes, b-but…"
"Spit it out, gully-guts! What is it?"
"I don't mean to be rude," said the voice of a teenage boy from outside, "but can we come inside? Gregory, as you call him, is drooling and his slobber is seeping into my coat."
Blinking in confusion, Cain came out of his hiding spot and saw a young man who he guessed had to be fifteen years old, presently hanged from Gregory's teeth from the hood that he wore. His sandy blonde hair was rather spikey in nature as the front concentrates towards the right side as if windswept while the back was smoother and more flaky. And he had a pair of bright blue eyes which contrasted the dark environment around them.
His attire was a full length black coat with a hood hanging from the back of his neck with a waist-high slit riding up the back to be similar to a duster. There was a large silver zipper that fastened at the top and zips all the way down around the waist area. It has stylized silver drawstrings for the hood decorated with large silver beads hanging from the end and a silver chain ornament adorned with four large cylindrical silver beads that fastens to a loop on either side of the collarbone region. Everything else that could've been visible was covered up by leather gloves and black boots and pants.
When he gazed at the person hanging beside the teenager, Cain gasped alongside Abel as they saw a man who neither of them saw in nearly a century.
"My Lord!/Morpheus!" Cried out the brothers.
At that moment, both Morpheus and the young lad were deposited right before them once Gregory widened his toothy maw. Both fell face first onto the wooden floor with groans escaping their lips.
In an instant, the sandy blonde quickly got onto his feet, draped an arm over his shoulder and lifted Morpheus up. "Please. I need help."
Becoming serious, Cain gave a firm nod as both he and Abel helped the blonde boy get their lord up the nearby flight of stairs to reach the nearest bedroom.
-Later-
Sitting on a chair in a guest bedroom, Roxas peered at the sleeping form of Morpheus. The space would've been covered in nearly complete darkness if it weren't for the dim moonlight outside seeping through the window. Aside from the moonlight, there were some orbs of light Roxas conjured and had them spread out. This caused the Nobody to see that the room was decaying with the wallpaper peeling back and the wood was slowly rotting. It didn't help that despite cracking open the window, the air was still musty.
The space was the only suitable place at this time as the other bedrooms were… damaged. From what he was told by the brothers, this house and it's neighboring one were rotting and decaying for nearly a century.
Before Roxas could question about this, he was bombarded with rapid-fire questions with who he was and how he came across their lord and master. The greater Nobody answered all that he could to the brothers to sate their curiosity.
It was after that did the Keybearer volunteer to take the first shift of overwatching Morpheus for when he woke up.
As this went on, Roxas thought back to what happened on their way to Dream's home, which was located at the very center of the Dreaming.
Upon "visiting" his former captor, Morpheus became heavily exhausted. Roxas did chastise him a little, given the Dream Lord was already running on fumes to begin with. But the Endless being stated the act needed to be performed with no other delay. Even if he was unsuccessful in obtaining what he originally sought from his captor.
It was only after that little "errand" did things become complicated.
-Flashback Start-
Dream struggled in his step over and over again with Roxas helping him along the way. Despite his requested commands, the Nightmares ignored Morpheus and tried to attack their master for some apparent reason like when they first met in Roxas' dream. It was only with the Keybearer's intervention did they make it this far.
Of course at one point, they seemed to wind up in a place which truly felt off within the Dreaming.
"Messire Rustichello?"
Roxas heard a young man cry out for a man's attention. Looking onward, he saw he was alone within the desert environment.
"Messire Rustichello!"
"Hey, are you okay?" Roxas called out to him.
The young man turned around and saw them before approaching.
By Roxas' inspection of the person before him and Morpheus, he wore a light tunic with thin leggings. His cloak fluttered against the breeze to reveal an assortment of items tied to his leather belt.
"Hello, good sirs." He said to them, "I am lost here. I met people, but they have all gone now. Can you two help?" He asked in desperation. "Are you two dreams as well?"
Roxas blinked in confusion. "Eh… No, I'm not a dream. I'm just a Nobody."
Morpheus snorted a little, giving out a tired response. "But I am. I am Dream." He focused more on the young man with a frown. "I fear, however, that I am in no position to help you. I have just freed myself from captivity."
"And he had words with his captor." Roxas added in.
Morpheus was losing some of his balance, either from the exhaustion or the sand beneath their feet.
"Forgive me, I am so weak. I have been away for so long. I must return to my castle…"
The weary traveler withdrew a waterskin from his side and presented it to Morpheus.
"I have some water left. Do you need water?"
"I… I thank you."
Morpheus drank long and deep, but left enough for the young man. He did not want to take away all there was left in the container.
"Sir? Are you the Lord of this place?"
Roxas wondered how this person quickly concluded this answer already.
Withdrawing his lips from the waterskin, Morpheus handed it back to the young man.
"Indeed I am."
"I met a man, in this place, who spoke of a land called Fiddler's Green." Morpheus reacted when hearing the name, which made Roxas wonder what it was. "He said you were in love. That you went walking all the time with your woman…"
"Did he say who the woman was?" Morpheus said in peaked curiosity and interest.
"I don't remember. I'm sorry."
A hum rumbled in Morpheus' throat. "It is not important. It has happened already, or it is still to come. And forewarned is seldom forearmed. Not even in the Shifting Zones."
That got Roxas rather confused on how this was spoken.
"The man I mentioned, he said this was called a Soft Place."
"Yes. That is a valid name. The Soft Places of the world. The shifting places… The…"
Morpheus held his head as it started to ache. Roxas got him to lean onto him for more support.
"You look terrible. White as the man in the Moon." The weary traveler turned to Roxas. "Has he always been so pale?"
"As far as I've known him."
"And it depends on who's watching." Morpheus chuckled out.
"Sorry?"
"No matter." Morpheus soon walked away. "I thank you for your water, young man. I will be on my way. Come Roxas."
"But sir, can you tell me how to get back? Could you… or Roxas, was it? How to return to my father, to his caravan? To the Desert of Lop?"
Roxas rubbed his neck in awkwardness.
"Sorry, but I honestly have no clue what's exactly going on here. And I'm trying to get Morpheus back home. I wish I could help you, I really do but…"
"You come in, you do not go out again."
Both Roxas and the young man looked at Morpheus in surprised disturbance and confusion.
"But… They said… They said I'd get out. The fat man, and the other man, Rustichello, said I'd get out. They said I'd go home." Said the young man in distress. "I don't want to be trapped here forever."
"Wait, what?"
A litany of questions flowed through Roxas' mind. Who were the people this person was referring to? How could he be so sure he could leave this… Soft Place? And what did Morpheus mean that they are essentially stuck here for good?
Morpheus halted his step as he seemed to regard the other name spoken from the young man's mouth. "Hmm. Rustichello? The fantasist?" He fully turned towards the man as if he finally recognized him. "You're Marco Polo."
"I am."
"I see. Yes. You are trapped. I know how that feels. You gave me water. And I am not ungrateful. However, I am very weak. And if I help you, I may not be able to help myself… even with my companion's assistance."
"Could you at least try?" Asked Roxas.
Pondering his thoughts for a handful of moments, Morpheus finally spoke. "Marco?"
"Yes?"
"Yes, I'll send you back. You will even see your home again." Marco Polo smiled in joy as this was spoken. "You will have to go through the long way though. And you do not know how fortunate you are."
"I understand. And I thank you."
"No… you don't."
Kneeling down, Morpheus cupped a handful of sand. It's grains started flowing through his fingers.
"Hold out your hands."
As the sand slowly fell into Marco's hands, Roxas heard the rumble of distant thunder. A storm seemed to be coming from the distance.
Looking towards the falling sand, the blonde Nobody saw something peculiar about it as each grain started to change into unique, intricate patterns.
Patterns of dreams and stories. Deserts and cities and time.
And Roxas wasn't the only one mesmerized at the spectacle as Marco shared the same feeling.
It wasn't long before Marco's form swiftly disappeared from the Soft Place as did the Dream King and blonde Nobody.
Yet it came at the cost of Morpheus feeling more drained than before.
-Flashback End-
It wouldn't be until later during Morpheus' slumber would Roxas learn from Cain and Abel what exactly a Soft Place was.
To his understanding, it is where the dreaming and the waking world intertwines, reality flickers and fluctuates in every possible direction; dragging everything that is unfortunate to wander to close inside of it. It tends to confuse and mislead the unwary and can act as a gateway between multiple dimensions and realms. Last, but not least, time itself has no meaning inside its boundaries. One can walk inside one and never find their way out, forever doomed to wander it's space for an eternity and when and if one manages to get out, they'd find that no time has passed at all since leaving.
In simplest terms, Soft Places function as an interdimensional gateway where past, present and future collides and exists in synch.
Of course, rather suddenly after both Dream King and Keybearer left the Soft Place, this giant green gargoyle appeared from out of nowhere. Roxas was about to attack the beast, thinking it to be another Nightmare spirit, but it started to act like a Dream Eater; being compliant and non threatening.
It did help Roxas get him and Morpheus to this place, but the way it was done could've been done better. Instead of riding on the gargoyle dog's back, it picked them up with it's toothy maw and ran to the place they are now.
The blonde Nobody was at least glad his Organization coat was self cleaning and self repairing or else it would've taken forever to clean off the slobber and sew up the tooth marks.
Thinking back to when he first saw these houses residing within the misty graveyard, he almost wondered if they wound up in Halloween Town of all places due to the surrounding environment. That wasn't the case as he didn't see any noticeable markers from the curved mountain, the town hall or even Jack Skeleton's mansion.
The creaking of the doorway snapped Roxas out of his thoughts. Looking over, he saw Abel walking in.
"H-How is he? Is he awake?"
"Nope."
"I-I see." Abel soon stood beside the blonde Nobody as he eyed his sleeping lord. "He looks so f-f-frail. It's no wonder why the D-Dreaming is th-the way i-i-it is."
"You mean this place isn't the way it's supposed to be?"
Before Abel could give his answer, they heard a groan from the bed.
"Wh-Where am… I?"
Upon hearing the Dream lord waking up, Roxas and Abel were quick to come closer to the bed. They saw the eyes of the Endless being dimmed quite a lot as he stared at the Nobody first before shifting towards Abel. Almost to the point of there being no light in his eye sockets at all if it weren't for the orbs of light surrounding the room.
"You. I know you… You're…" Morpheus groaned, trying to sit upright in the bed. "Forgive me… I…"
"It's alright, my Lord. It's me, A-Abel."
"Yes… I do remember you. I'm sorry. It's been so long. Where are we?"
"This is my b-brother's House of Mystery. Gregory found you and Roxas in the Sh-Shifting Zones and brought you here."
"Yes… we were on our way to my castle."
There was this nervous look on Abel's face when Morphus mentioned this. While the Dream lord didn't notice this, Roxas did. He just didn't know if he knew something they didn't or just in his nature.
"I-uh-I-uh-I'll tell Cain you're awake. He's uhmm, made you some food."
With that said, Abel took off, leaving Roxas and Morpheus in the guestroom.
"How long have I been asleep?"
Roxas shrugged with a plain expression. "Wish I could tell ya, but there are no working clocks in this place."
"I see…"
"Tried to even entertain myself by finding some reading material, but most of the books downstairs just crumbled to dust. Others that didn't disintegrate to the touch were too dark for my taste."
Morpheus merely hummed in response.
A few moments later, Cain came strolling in with a large folding tray. All the food stuff he could scrounge up and cook was presented. In his other hand were a pair of drinking vessels, a wine glass and a normal glass cup. And behind him was his brother, who carefully carried a wine bottle in one hand and a pitcher of orange juice in another.
"Good evening, your highness, prince Morpheus." Cain greeted in utmost respect. "I've made you some of your favorites. We'll soon have you back on your feet again."
"Hello… Cain…" Morpheus said in turn as Adam's oldest son unfolded the tray and carefully placed it in front of his lord. "Thank you."
Situating himself better in the bed, he picked up the utensils and slowly cut up the meat. As Dream consumed the piece of food, Abel poured the orange juice into the one glass and gave it to the Endless being. Taking a swig of the drink, Morpheus was slowly able to taste his meal after what felt like forever.
It did go to show the difference of what happened since he last ate. Then again, he couldn't savor a thing, due to how starved he was. He only sought to fill his belly with whatever Roxas gave him. This time, now that he had rested after who knows how long, his taste buds were slowly coming back to him.
Breathing out a sigh of satisfaction, Dream eyed Cain. "Tell me, do you possess anything of mine? Anything I created?"
Cain adopted a thinking posture as he pondered. "Anything of yours? I wouldn't think so… No… No…"
"Y-Yes you do!" Abel blurted out, causing Cain to glare at his brother. "Uhh, both of us do."
"Really? What?" Asked Roxas.
"Our letters of c-commission." Answered Abel. "They, uh, they, uh, have his signature on them. He muh-made them."
Before Cain could get the chance to snap at his sibling, Dream spoke a command. "Fetch me these letters. Fetch me anything of mine."
Reaching into his suit jacket, Abel withdrew an ancient rolled parchment. "I, uh, have m-mine on me, sire. And Cain has his, too." He then presented his letter of commission to the Dream Lord. "Here. Tuh-Take it."
Setting the utensils down, Morpheus gently grasped onto the parchment.
"I release something I created before the dawn of time; re-absorb that fragment of myself I placed inside it…"
In a momentary flash, the rolled up letter vanished as it was reabsorbed into his very being. His eyes, dimmed by fatigue, seemed to brighten a bit as he felt some of his energy return.
"Now, Cain, your turn."
Grumbling, Cain exited the room to retrieve his letter of commission from wherever he kept it. As Morpheus waited for his return, he ate more of the meal before him.
Upon the return of the second son of Adam, with parchment in hand, Morpheus was able to regain a bit more of his power once Cain's letter of commission was absorbed.
"Uhhh, mu-my Lord, uh, if it's not a f-foolish question… hmmm, uh…"
"What my brain-dead brother is so spectacularly failing to enunciate-"
"Hey, you don't need to say that." Roxas said sternly. "That's rude."
Cain glared at Roxas while missing Abel's smiling response.
Coughing into his hand soon after, Cain resumed. "What happened to you, my lord? Where have you been for so long? What were you doing?"
"Where have I been? I have been imprisoned..."
As Morpheus partook more of the meal Cain personally made for him, the Dream Lord told the three of his imprisonment.
The Endless being couldn't remember the circumstances as to what led to him being summoned to the mortal plane, but he remembered the results. All he could recollect was of him being entirely exhausted and collapsing in front of his summoners. Once knocked out, they robbed him of his three symbols of power; his tools: a leather pouch of endless dream sand, a helm made from a dead ancient god he personally slew eons ago and his Dream Ruby; the very first dreamstone to ever be created.
For over ninety years, Dream was imprisoned by the cultists as the leader -Rodrick Burgess- would only let him out if he brought his eldest son back from death. But when that couldn't happen after so long, the request shifted to granting them immortality, power and not seeking revenge upon them.
And for those years, he gave them the same response with a simple "No".
The only way he was able to escape was his primary captor at the time -one Alex Burgess- accidentally scrapping and breaking the magic circle surrounding his "cage" with his wheelchair. From there, one of the guards had fallen asleep on the job as both the caffeine and drugs in his veins had worn off and his form of entertainment made him sleepy. The moment he drifted off, Morpheus took the chance and siphoned off the guard's newly formed dream to gain back a fraction of power. And with that power, he manipulated the aforementioned guard from his slumber to destroy his prison all before escaping.
Cain was furious when hearing what befell upon his master and wanted to go to the Mortal Realm and give those cultists a piece of his mind. Especially when learning Morpheus' messenger raven -Jessamy- was slain trying to free him.
Dream -however- assured the Father of Murder the deed was already done to his primary captor. The rest, however, will be resolved once he regains his full power and strength.
Roxas was able to understand more of the circumstances as to what led Morpheus into his dream. He did feel bad for the dream lord and gave his sympathies. And as much as he wanted to know what Morpheus did for his form of revenge, Roxas chose not to.
It was then did Roxas learn who the cultists originally planned to summon and ensnare in their control: Death, Dream's older twin.
If they were successful, then the Universe as they knew it would've been doomed.
When he confronted Alex Burgess after Roxas gave his assistance, Morpheus wanted to know where his tools were located. It turned out they were stolen by one of the cult's former members as they fled from England decades ago. And no one knows where they reside now.
But before Morpheus left Alex Burgess, he gifted him for all of his years of "hospitality" with Eternal Waking.
It was more tiring than what the Dream Lord had expected, due to his drastic decrease of power. But Alex Burgess will never return to the life he knew. Afterall, Morpheus showed him fear with a handful of dust. For his nightmares will be everlasting until Death takes him from the physical plane.
This all led to the present moment within the House of Mysteries.
Roxas did voice his thoughts on such punishment, but Cain told him it was rightful justice. For one of Dream's siblings could've done something similar on a better or worse decree from such crimes.
With this all relayed, a plan was soon spoken and set. Once Morpheus returns to his home, he will set out and find his tools so the Dreaming can be properly restored to its original state before his imprisonment.
Now that Dream had properly rested and regained a bit more of his strength, he left the House of Mystery with Roxas in tow.
The blonde Nobody didn't have to tag along, but he insisted and he wasn't gonna change his mind. With the trouble Morpheus had earlier, Roxas argued the Prince of Stories needed the assistance.
"Goodbye, Cain. Goodbye Abel." Said the Keybearer. "See you two later."
"Guh-Goodbye!" Abel yelled out, frantically waving the pair, which Roxas returned in kind. Dream merely gave a curt nod towards him as they kept on walking. "I-uh-I-uh feel I ought to give them guh-good advice and I-uh-I-uh-"
"Oh shut up, you sponge-wit- Goodbye, sire!" Spoke Cain.
"AAAAAAWUUURGK!"
Gregory's roar echoed in the air, signifying his own means of saying "goodbye".
"Uhhh, there they go." Said the younger brother, seeing the pair disappear into the horizon as the grey skies slowly went to some actual color after what felt like forever. "Shuh-Shouldn't we have told them? About the castle? About what happened to the Dreamtime?"
"Why? They'll find out soon enough." Was Cain's response. "Now come back inside. You still need to open your present."
Returning to where Abel's present was located, the younger brother resumed opening it up… in a rather careful manner.
Like a skillful surgeon, Abel slowly got the wrapping undone with little to no rips some minutes after unwrapping the bow.
During this time, Cain stood by the window and absently gazed at the graveyard set between their two homes.
"Something has gone so wrong, Abel. And it's been getting stranger." Cain admitted. "I've tried not to… do it to you… so much."
Abel halted his present task and looked at his brother. "Wh-What are you looking at?"
"The usual. The gravestones, the swamp, they soothe me." Cain barely gave his brother a glance with a question. "Are you finished?"
"J-Just about. N-Nearly…" When the last of the wrapping was cleared, the black haired brother saw what his gift was. "Uh, an egg?" It suddenly started to crack, causing Abel to let out a small yelp. "Uh, Cuh-Cain, it, uh, something's h-happening to the egg…"
"It's not just any egg, brother."
When a large chunk of the egg fell away, the newly born creature let out a small "Arwk".
"I-It's… It's beautiful!"
It was a baby gargoyle. It's all head, feet and crumbled little wings. It's flesh was gold in color and had beady red eyes. It was also small, sweet, vulnerable and innocent.
"Ha-Ha-Ha… I should call it… Irving."
"...Irving?" Cain sounded out. "You can't call it Irving. Names for gargoyles always begin with a "G". Like Gazpacho- or Gormogon- or Gladstone- or Ganymede- or- or- GRAAH! Where's that blasted poker!"
Abel whirled around and saw Cain charging him with the iron poker with it raised into the air. Out of instinct, he quickly raised his arms to protect himself.
"B-B-But I like Irving!" He cried out. "N-No, please Cain!"
His attempt was an utter failure as he was struck down again and again. The poker piercing and cracking a number of places in his body as he soon became a bloodied stain on the floor. All the while, Cain had red hot anger gracing his face. But behind his eyes if one were to look deep enough, they'd see the utter sorrow on his actions for having to murder his younger brother again for the upteenth time for all these eons.
In this time, the baby gargoyle watched on as it'll experience a common occurrence throughout its existence.
It wouldn't be until much later will Abel go through the cycle of death and rebirth once more. And in his time of healing will he name his new gargoyle companion Goldie, all the while keeping the name Irving in his very heart.
-Waking Realm, Gotham City-
It was a cold, rainy day; which was considered the typical weather in the crime-ridden city.
A car was driving down a long stretch of road and passed through some metallic gates with the words 'Arkham Asylum' above, which was ominously illuminated by a flash of lightning.
The car eventually came to a slow stop as it came to a guard post where it's occupant stepped outside with his hand hovering over his sidearm.
"Do you have a security pass?"
The driver merely glared at the prison guard from behind her thick glasses. "No I do not."
"Then what is your purpose in being here? Do you have an appointment?"
The guard was cautious and he had every right to be. With how often Arkham's inmates break out through numerous means, it's gotten to the point where the guards have to take extensive measures in limiting such actions. One such means is needing to inspect any and all vehicles coming in and out of the grounds so there won't be a possible incident as a result.
After all, there have been times when weapons were brought in or an inmate smuggled themselves out.
With transports, the only ones which can have better ways of coming in and out of Arkham was if it was a commissioned prison transport, a government official vehicle or with employees. If they weren't either of those, then one would need some proper paperwork and/or clearance.
"No, I do not have an appointment. And I am here to see my son."
The guard took a better look at the driver and saw the woman was of advanced age, but she had a fire within her which could make her a force to recon with.
"I don't mean to be rude and all, but you do know this is Arkham Asylum, right?"
"Yes, I do know, young man."
"And visiting hours for… guests are only approved by Dr. Huntoon."
"Then call up Dr. Huntoon." She said fiercely. "I am not leaving until I see my son."
The guard went back inside of his security box for a brief moment before he turned back to the driver.
"And what name should I inform Dr. Huntoon?"
"My name is Ethel, Ethel Dee."
Once making the call to one of his superiors, it took him several minutes to get in touch with him. But after some bits of discussion, the guard gave the driver the clearance to enter Arkham.
Parking her car in a designated zone, Ethel climbed out of the driver's seat and marched her way towards the front entrance of the asylum. An umbrella snapped open as it covered its owner from the rain. And jangling across her wrist was an unusual piece of jewelry; some sort of eyeball connected by a chain which now acts as a bracelet.
Coming to the front entrance, a pair of guards had escorted her inside with one of them taking Ethel right to Dr. Roger Huntoon's office. Once inside of said office, its occupant cordially greeted her.
"Good day, Mrs. Dee. I am Dr. Huntoon. I hope you didn't have much trouble getting here."
"Oh, I must certainly have, doctor."
"Madam, you must understand, this is most irregular-"
"Young man, please do not prevaricate. I wish to see my son, and I wish to see him now."
"Yes, well, this is most irregular, Mrs. Dee. Arkham does not encourage visitors."
This was true through a number of circumstances. There was a time when there were a large number of visitors to visit the committed occupants within these old walls. But as years passed with the rise of supercriminals and metahumans, things changed. Now there are more regulations to uphold for this establishment with guests and visitors.
Ethel wasn't having any of that and went to the root of her visit.
Withdrawing a photo from her purse, she presented it to the doctor. There lies a photo of a dark haired man with his sides graying out wearing a labcoat.
"This is my son, John Dee. I believe he's imprisoned under 'nom-de-crime' of Doctor Destiny." Said Ethel as she clicked her tongue. "A foolish boy. I have been searching for him for a decade."
Dr. Huntoon hummed a little as he thought of that particular name. "We do have a patient of that name, Mrs. Dee, but this is most irregular, and I'm afraid-"
"Young fellow, I am 110 years of age. I haven't seen my son in ten years, and I have traveled over 8000 miles to see him today." Ethel said fiercely. "And I will see him or my attorneys will know why."
With the veiled threat over his head, the doctor decided to let Ethel Dee see her son.
Walking beside her, they went through several corridors before descending down a number of levels where things became much darker and much colder than on the upper levels.
"Watch your steps, madam."
"I'm flabbergasted you couldn't bring John up to see me, Dr. Huntoon."
"I'm sorry, but we can't risk letting him out. He's too dangerous." The asylum doctor explained the reasons. "He no longer sleeps, or dreams… in the normal sense of the word. And physically, he's quite debilitated."
This made Ethel wonder what was going on with her grandson. And soon she would get her answer very soon.
Coming across the cell of her dear John, she heard the echoes of a pained wail coming from the darkness.
"John… John, is that you? Are you in there? It's me, your mother Ethel."
She wondered if John was asleep, but it seemed not so when she heard something soft and weak.
"...Mother?"
In an instant, a figure crashed to the cell door revealing his form. From what Ethel can see, he was heavily malnourished, practically skin and bones at this point. His teeth were rotted, his eyes sunken and what strands of hair were left on his head were long and stark white.
"Mother?!"
"Madam, you best step back. He's quite unpredictable-"
"Oh hush you!" She snapped at the asylum doctor. Ethel looked back at her dear son. "John?"
"Mother…" John rasped out. "I would have dreamed of you… if I could dream. It's… It's been a long time."
Utter horror filled her being, making Ethel look back at the doctor. "What have you done to him? What have you done?!"
Before Dr. Huntoon could give an answer, John continued to speak as he peered at Ethel from behind his cell door.
"Mother? You look so old… well… older."
"B-But I am old, John." Ethel stammered, feeling her heart shatter further.
Her son barely reacted to that statement. "Things are so… strange these days."
The inmate started to bang against the cell door, rather fiercely and quite rapidly.
"Mrs. Dee, you must go." Said the doctor. "He's getting too excited-"
"But my son-"
More banging was done against the cell door, making the doctor pull Ethel away. "We need to leave immediately. Say goodbye."
With much regret in her heart, Ethel looked back at her grandson with sorrow in her eyes.
"I-I'm sorry, John. I-I have to go. I'll try to come back, I promise."
John looked on, seeing his grandmother walk away from his cell. Much hope in his eyes started dying bit by bit. "Mother! They took my dreams away from me!" He started banging more and more at his cell door to get her attention. "MOTHER!"
-The Dreaming-
Having left the old way stations of the frontiers of Nightmares, which were the Houses of Mystery and Secrets; Morpheus and Roxas were trekking towards the Ghost Castle, otherwise known as the Palace of Dreams. The very heart and center of the Dreaming and the very seat of Morpheus' power.
It felt like forever when traversing the sandy landscape, yet having each other as company eased the timely weight. For beyond the infinite dust, infinite sand, infinite dark and light; the way to the center of this dream-like desert was an extremely slow spiral. Overcoming hazards left and right of varying degrees, but never life-threatening. It's residents -the Nightmare Dream spirits- had typically roamed their pathway, yet it was nothing Roxas couldn't handle before continuing onward with Morpheus beside him.
From there, they charted a course Nightward until reaching the Gates of Horn and Ivory.
The Keybearer looked at it's detailed wonder with the ever shifting artistry shown here, representing the ever changing dream one experiences most nights. He didn't need to even touch the surfaces to tell the texture would be the same, in his theorized guess.
Roxas couldn't help and let loose an astound "wow" and "amazing".
"Thank you. I carved them myself."
The blonde Nobody turned towards his companion. "Really?"
"Indeed. It needed to be done when Order within this realm was needed eons ago." Morpheus pointed towards the Ivory gates. "The Dreams that pass through those gates are lies, figments and deceptions." He then pointed towards the Horned-themed ones. "The other admits the Truth and no one guards them anymore."
The Lord of Dreams walked forward, placing his hands on the doorway and struggled to move them. Wanting to assist, Roxas joined beside him as they soon pushed the door inward so they could move beyond it. Chains rattled and gears creaked with their combined effort to pry open the gateway.
Once the entryway was wide enough, the pair walked in…
"No…"
Roxas didn't have to look beside him to see the shocked, saddened expression presently worn by Morpheus. For the blonde Nobody bore something of a lesser degree as they saw the state of Dream's home.
What was once a mighty structure was now a desolate one, showing how neglectful it was in how it was maintained. Its walls were riven and its windows were smashed.
"It breaks your heart, doesn't it?"
The pair were soon greeted by the tallest and thinnest man Roxas had ever seen. By his guess, the man could've rivaled Jack Skellington and Lexaeus in terms of height. His brown hair was spiky, despite it being slicked back, as he wore round spectacles on his pointy ears and a butler's attire; even if it was heavily worn out and disheveled. And he used a gardening tool as a sort of crutch or at the very least a walking stick.
"Lucien?"
"One and the same, my Lord." Spoke the tall, thin man. He then knelt towards the dirt so he may properly respect his master. "At your service, as always."
"Get up. Please get up." Spoke Dream. "You never had to kneel before me."
"I know, my lord Dream." Lucien struggled out to get back onto his feet. "I just… wanted to greet you properly after nearly a century." Once upright once more, the tall spectacled man then took notice of Roxas. "And who might you be?"
"Ah, yes. Let me introduce you two." Dream waved a hand towards the greater Nobody. "Lucien, this is Roxas; a wielder of the Keyblade who assisted me thus far in returning home."
Lucien scratched his peach fuzz chin in curiosity. "A Keybearer? Haven't seen one of your kind in some centuries." He seemed to analyze him a bit more. "And an awakened one at that."
"Awakened?"
"One whose presence isn't sleeping upon entering this realm."
Roxas wondered if that was so, if he was perhaps still dreaming inside of Sora's heart or not. He may need to confirm with Morpheus soon enough if he was truly out of his Somebody or not.
"And Roxas, this is Lucien; librarian and curator of stories and my right hand man."
The blonde Nobody gave the taller man a small smile. "Hello. Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances."
Lucien gave him a curt nod. "Likewise, young man. And I thank you for assisting my lord in his endeavor."
"No problem at all." Roxas briefly gazed back to the wreckage that was Morpheus' home. "Don't mind me asking this, but what happened here? How did this place become like this?"
Morpheus gave a firm nod, wanting to know as well.
Lucien eyed them both as he gave the response. "You should remember, my Lord, that you are the incarnation of the Dreaming. And with you gone, the place began to decay, began to crumble…"
Exhaling a tired sigh, the librarian's gaze appeared distant. "The process was slow at first. Things in the Dreaming began to transmute. I was aware of it in my library. Slowly, the words began to fade. And some time after you vanished, my lord, my books became bound volumes of blank paper, the next day the whole library was gone. I never found it again…"
Lucien's gaze became focused once more as he looked towards the pair, primarily Morpheus. "It's been a strange century for all of us."
"Strange how?" Was Roxas' inquired.
Lucien gave a bitter chuckle. "I don't know where to start." Shifting his gaze beyond the gates of Horn and Ivory, the librarian began the list which formed in his mind. "Eve, the Raven Woman, has decayed badly. She only lives in nightmares now. Many of the palace servants dispersed back into the Dream Stuff that formed them. Brute and Glob vanished decades ago, to which their present whereabouts alludes to me."
"We already met Cain and Abel." Roxas spoke out suddenly. "They're quite nice, but Cain should at least treat his brother better."
"Ah, yes. Those two." Lucien muttered. "Forgive me when I say this, but I found them disturbing." Seeing the questioning look Roxas bore, he explained the reason. "I mean, they've always been weird with their quirks, but since Lord Dream went missing; the weirdness they carry has been getting worse."
Roxas had a feeling there was quite the story behind those two, but it wasn't one for him to pry into so soon.
"Could you recollect anyone else?"
"There are too many, my lord. There would be a far better account of their attendance once the Dreaming is restored. Either they would come back to their own volition or reform once the realm is recompleted. Only then will I be able to do a proper account of who we are missing."
"I see…" Moving away from his placement, Morpheus walked towards his decrepit home. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a home to take care of."
Roxas raised a brow at this, turning to Lucien with a question. "What does he plan on doing?"
"Demolishing it, no doubt." Was Lucien's answer. "The Palace is beyond salvageable at this point. Once Morpheus regains the full might of his power, he will build a new one."
The blonde Nobody gave a small nod. "I'm sorry. It must've meant a lot to you."
"Living there for so long, one would most certainly form attachments to it." The librarian exhaled a tired sigh. "But as the saying goes, 'out with the old, in with the new'. The master and I… it'll take some time to get used to the new residence."
Roxas nodded once more, briefly gazing back to Morpheus who entered the ruined structure. The Keybearer figured the Dream Lord wanted to do one last look around before tearing the place down for nostalgic purposes.
Recollecting what he could from Sora's memories, he quoted something about the mother of his Somebody once said to her son nearly a decade ago. It didn't make much sense to the five year old Sora back then, but it feels appropriate now."
"Home is where love resides, memories are created, friends and family belong and laughter never ends." Roxas spoke aloud. "You might lose the place where you once lived, but you'll never forget it once it's in your heart."
Lucien gave out a small chuckle. "I suppose so, young man. Speaking from experience?"
Roxas merely scratched his sandy blonde locks with an awkward chuckle. "My situation is quite strange and complicated."
"Keybearer, I've been alive for eons, being born merely a number of years shy since the Dreaming's inception. Not much can truly surprise me, especially varying levels of strangeness." Lucien then formed a smile. "Besides, it would be good to hear of a new tale after so many years."
Before Roxas could tell Lucien who and exactly what he was, he asked the tall, thin man if he knew of the Heartless. Lucien clearly knew of them, given how he knows of the Keyblade and their wielders throughout the eons. With that out of the way, Roxas asked for confirmation if Lucien also knew of Nobodies. When this came to pass, Lucien was quick to deduce that Roxas was a Nobody who derived from a Keybearer.
Roxas was surprised, at first, but composed himself as he then recalled the circumstances of his "birth".
Retelling the tale on how Sora, his Somebody, was thrusted into saving the Worlds from them falling to Darkness after Destiny Islands was swallowed up. Giving a cliffnotes account of things which lead up to what occurred inside of Maleficent's fortress in Hollow Bastion. Specifically the reveal that Sora had the heart of Kairi, one of the Seven Princesses of Heart, inside of him. Acting nobly and without a second thought, Sora plunged the blackened Keyblade into his chest and released Kairi's heart at the cost of losing himself to Darkness.
It was from there that Roxas came into "existence".
"I say, that was quite the tale, young Keybearer." Said Lucien, who was seated on a piece of rubble. "But that doesn't explain how you are here."
Nodding once more, Roxas continued as he gave the librarian more information about his life. A summary of his time working for Organization XIII, where he worked alongside other Greater Nobodies to slay Heartless so they may gain Hearts of their own by creating their own Kingdom Hearts. Yet he was left in the dark about a number of things, due to manipulations of the higher ups in covering up the truth of it all.
Things became too much for him, especially the loss of Xion, causing him to rebell and seek to free the Kingdom Hearts he took part in creating. Yet before Roxas had the chance to "storm the castle" at the Organization's headquarters, he was confronted and fought against Riku, soon becoming a Keybearer himself, where he lost against him before being taken elsewhere.
It turned out that sometime after Sora restored the Worlds, his memories were heavily altered at a place called Castle Oblivion due to the machinations of the Organization so they could use him as a puppet for some nefarious scheme. In order to fix the islander back up, Namine -Kairi's Nobody and the one who altered the memories in the first place- had to put his memories back together. Yet to fully patch him up, both Roxas and Xion had to be destroyed as they carried the rest of Sora's memories.
Now while Xion was destroyed -by Roxas' hands and the Organization's manipulations- No. XIII was put through what may be called a more "humane" approach.
For a week, Roxas was imprisoned into the digitized world of Twilight Town so Namine and DiZ can extract the memories properly and place them back into Sora. Of course not all plans were quite sound as some circumstances occurred.
Long story short, Sora did regain all of his memories as Roxas merged with him.
Once waking up, Sora and his friends had to go through World to World, to resolve a number of issues while combating against the Organization. Unfortunately, Sora wasn't strong enough to fully finish off the rest of the greater Nobodies. Thus Roxas had to step in and fight his Somebody in order to test and make him stronger for the eventual final battle against Xemnas.
There were some other things which occurred afterwards, but Roxas didn't consider talking about them.
He did, however, speak of how he met Morpheus in his dream as he resided within Sora's Heart. And as of how he was able to get out of it when he chased after the dream lord.
Throughout the entire time of Roxas speaking his life's tale, which spanned over a year now, Lucien hardly spoke at all, only asking some small questions so he may better understand a few things.
"And that's it, I suppose."
Lucien stroked his peach fuzz chin. "Quite the tale and I am sorry for what you had to go through."
No. XIII nodded and was about to say something when he was interrupted.
"I see now that the circumstances of your birth are irrelevant." Roxas felt a bit offended by what the tall, thin man said and was about to snap back when the lanky man interrupted him. "It is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."
Roxas blinked in surprise, soon pondering the words spoken to him.
Now that he was out of the void that was Sora's heart, what would happen now? What was Roxas going to do now? And desire for that matter?
'Might as well live my own life, I suppose.' Came the thought. 'Gaining new experiences and memories while finding my self-worth and new purpose. Even understanding more of my… feelings and emotions.'
Throughout his short life span, Roxas experienced a small span of emotions. Nobodies were supposed to remember how they felt from who they derived from. They were not to really know and experience them.
Kindness and joy… Surprise and excitement… Trust and anticipation… Stress and relief… Grief and fear… Sadness and envy… Betrayal and anger…
The Key of Destiny experienced through these -and several others- during his time as a member of Organization XIII and after he left.
Even though he wasn't meant to feel anything, Roxas hated feeling the hurt inside of him most of all. And as much as he'd like to no longer feel such things, would he cast them aside? Would he want to feel empty… again?
'No, I won't.' He thought as he soon gazed towards the dark sky. 'If I cast aside these feelings, I'd only prove I am nothing. In doing so, I lose the ties to those I care about.'
Granted, there are only a handful of ties. Yet they are enough for Roxas to keep on going… even if some of them were fake.
Maybe he can forge new ones. With his newfound freedom and existence, Roxas might make it so in order to make himself feel real. Even experiencing more feelings and emotions in the process that would actually be his.
Until then, he'll keep the pain… the sorrow… the hurt… all of the negative on top of the positive. It's all he has left with what memories and experiences inside of him. It's what's holding him together.
And with that, he at least knows it's all real to him. It's what helps make him… him.
By the time he finished pondering on these thoughts, Roxas gave Lucien a small smile.
"I understand. And thanks for hearing me out."
"No problem at all, Roxas."
The pair were so engrossed with each other's company they did not notice Morpheus make his return until he spoke.
"It is done…"
Roxas and Lucien broke their gaze with each other and turned to see Morpheus hold a shrunken version of the Palace of Dreams in his outstretched hand. Instead of a ruined home, it appeared to be a memory of it's absolute prime. Graceful, symmetrical, having an untold amount of elliptical arches elegantly framing the multi-colored windows.
"It hurts me too, my lord."
"Hurts, yes." Morpheus then crushed the miniature castle in his hand as it turned to a fine powder. Depositing the remains to the ground beneath him, he gazed at them with a pained expression. "But like all wounds, it'll heal… in time."
Roxas, Lucien and Morpheus now stood in the barren field where the palace once stood. The only sign of its presence were the faint imprints on the ground for it's foundation.
"So what now?" Roxas asked.
"Some power returns to me, simply by being here. But… I placed too much of myself in my tools and they are gone… stolen… lost to me."
Lucien hummed as he adopted a thinking posture. "The Three-in-One knows much. Urth, Verthandi, and Skald. If you are strong enough to summon her…"
"Her? Don't you mean 'they'?"
Roxas' inquiry got Lucien's attention. "Ah yes, you would be unfamiliar with them. They go by many names and titles such as the Moirai, the Erinyes, the Wyrd Sisters to name a few. But these trio of individuals hold much power and knowledge. One of their forms can foretell the future and see where lost people or things are located."
"But you didn't answer why 'her' and not 'them'."
"The three are separate aspects of the same being, if that would suffice your curiosity."
Roxas merely gave a "so-so" gesture with his hand, given he didn't exactly know how to understand the answer.
"Now, will you both please leave me be?" Morpheus requested. "I need to concentrate so I may call them."
"Yes, sir."
Whereas Lucien left the vicinity, to parts unknown, Roxas merely gave Morpheus a reasonable space. As much as he wanted to leave the dream lord alone, the Nobody was curious as to what may happen.
Once the Keybearer was some distance away, that was when he started noticing the land starting to change.
For the first time in nearly a century, Morpheus had fully reached out into the Dreaming. It is as much part of him as he is part of it. With that, he began shaping the World.
Summoning the Three-in-One is quite the fickle thing as the requirements to achieve such a feat is extremely unique. In order to make it happen for Morpheus, he needed to search high and low throughout the minds of every sleeping person there walking through his domain so he may pull the items he sought.
The skies shifted into a starlit landscape with a mighty crescent moon shining all so brightly. The Crossroads which formed across the earth came from a Cambodian farmer who dreamed of obtaining a new ox cart. The gallows which formed along the side came from a young movie buff who fell asleep from binge watching Hammer horror films. The pot of honey and snakes which formed by the dream lord's feet were very easy to obtain.
It was only when did he seek to ensnare a black she-lamb did things prove difficult. Luckily for Morpheus, there was a child in Adelaide, Australia who dreamt of it as she frollicked with such a creature in her family farm.
The set for the summoning was incomplete as there was something missing.
It was only then did the mighty echoes and clangs of church bells ring throughout the starlit, moonlit crossroad landscape. Twelve times did they chime from the midnight hour, the Witching Hour.
And here they come.
The One who is Three. The We who are They.
A funnel of dust erupted from the crossroad before the Lord of Dreams. Within it, a dark figure formed with three pairs of eyes and a variety of symbols glowed ever brightly from within. The most prominent of them all was a full moon conjoined with two crescent moons at its left and right side.
By the time the dust settled, the dark figure turned out to be three instead of one.
These were the Crone, The Mother and the Maiden.
The Hecateae.
"Welcome ladies."
The Crone was an elderly woman with a long, sharp nose and baggy grey robes. The Mother was a pleasantly plump being with soft inviting features as she wore a loose blue robe. And the Maiden was a young blonde woman with long flowing hair who wore a tight purple garment which fit easily along her features.
"You look so thin, my darling." The Mother addressed their summoner. "You haven't been eating properly, have you now?"
"Morpheus. It's been a long time." Said the Maiden with a saucy smile.
The Crone merely cackled. "He wants something. Why else would he summon us."
"Lady Atropos, you have found me out. I do want something."
"Atropos? No. Not now. You might as well call me Morrigan!" Said the Crone.
"She's right." Confirmed the Mother. "Might as well call us Tisiphone, Alecto and Magaera- and that takes us back, eh?"
"Might as well call us Diana, Mary and Florence." The Maiden then laughed a pleasant sound from her lips. "Sorry."
"For me, you will always be the three graces, ladies." Morpheus said in a matter-of-fact.
The Maiden merely waved her hand and moved in such a way as if embarrassed. "Flatterer!"
The Mother elbowed her two compatriots with a cheeky smile. "Ooh~ He's the clever one!"
"So what should I call you?"
"I'm Cynthia." Addressed the Maiden.
The Crone jabbed a thumb to the Mother. "She's Mildred. I'm Mordred." She then scoffed. "Stupid name. I ought to be Morgaine."
"It wasn't my fault. I just got them confused, was all!"
"Yeah~ Yeah~ You keep telling yourself that."
Morpheus coughed into his hand to get their attention. "Witch Queen, you know of my imprisonment, of my travail, of the time that was stolen from me-"
"They have stolen time from you? What of that? We have all the time there ever was!" The Maiden, who called herself Cynthia, chastised him.
"They stole more than time. When I established this realm, I created tools to administer it. And now my tools are lost. I need help."
"Help? Help?" Mordred the Crone sneered. "You need our help after you refused to help us against Circe."
"It doesn't matter now. This is my realm. It has laws. Old laws. And the beings in the World conform to the laws. Just as you three obey your own laws. Could one of you exist apart from the other two?" He said quite sternly. "I need three answers. You are bound by the laws to give me them."
"Aye, me dearie. One answer then. One answer from each of us." Said the Mother, Mildred.
Seeing his request being received, Morpheus spoke. "Maiden, there was a Pouch of Sand. It was stolen from me."
Cynthia gave a soft smile to the dream lord. "An Englishman, John Constantine. He was the last to purchase your pouch."
"He has it still?"
"One question, one answer. The rules, my lord."
From where he was standing, Roxas rose a queried brow at this. Morpheus didn't exactly say a question on the pouch's whereabouts. But then he figured the request can be loosely interpreted as a question.
"I see." Morpheus then turned to Mildred. "Your question, All-Mother, my Helm- what happened to it?"
"Traded with a demon, my dove, many years ago for the Amulet of Protection. Long gone from the mortal plane."
"Which demon was it traded towards?"
The Mother merely raised her finger and waved it like she was chastising a child. "One question, my honeysuckle, and one answer."
Morpheus grumbled to himself before addressing the final member of the trio. "Crone. A final question for you. My stone, my Dreamstone, my ruby… who has that now?"
Mordred chuckled. "Your gem passed through a mother to a son and to his son in turn, who tapped its dream magics for his own ends… That is until it -and his dreams- were taken away from him, by the superhumans. Ask the League of Justice about its present whereabouts."
"But where-?" Morpheus quickly halted himself. "No, one answer only, I know…"
"Before we go, there is one last thing we must address." Said Cynthia.
The Dream Lord quirked a questioning brow. "Which is what?"
Instead of answering right away, the Three-in-One pointed straight towards Roxas.
"Bring the Keybearer with you." Spoke Mordred.
"For he will be instrumental for your quest to be a successful one." Mildred finished off.
"Thank you, Wyrd Sisters. You are most kind."
The Crone cackled once more as she turned to the others beside her. "Did you hear that, my sister-selves?"
The Maiden let loose a melodic laugh. "Thank you, he says! You don't thank the Fates, Dreamkin'!"
The Mother released a boisterous laugh. "After all, your troubles are only just beginning!"
With this said, the Three-in-One disappeared as their laughter filled the air.
Exhaustion bites at his very being in more ways than one. Not just because of him summoning the Hecateae but of not getting the full answers he sought.
This will surely be an uphill quest…
"I'm sure you heard all that, Roxas."
Roxas was so engrossed with what happened before him, did he not fully realize he was being addressed.
No. XIII couldn't exactly help it as he was quite drawn in on what occurred. It wasn't just of the spectacle with how the trio of women were summoned, but of something else.
He did wonder why whenever he blinked did the three women suddenly change forms.
They were once the aforementioned forms described earlier, but then they changed into a trio of leathery creatures with blood dripping off their mouths and claws. Then came the forms of boney figures with empty eye sockets, wearing darkened cloaks around their forms with a singular red eye they all shared. They soon shifted into shapeless forms underneath grey hooded cloaks as they all carried this tangled cord all around them. The next were a trio of women with many runic tattoos scrawled across their very flesh as they wore armor and furs with elongated wings sprouting out of their backs. And the last form was odd as they appeared to become fair and beautiful triplets with the only difference each bore were their hair color from ebony black, ivory white and strawberry blonde as they wore ornate robes.
Roxas did question the formchanging they went through on top of who this Circe person was and why Morpheus didn't help the Three-in-One with her.
"I… I, uh… I did." Roxas stammered out. "Sorry for listening in…"
"Don't be. It saves me the trouble to relay the quest I must undertake now."
"Right… Where to start?"
"I doubt I am strong enough to go up against the Hordes of Hell. Not yet."
"Then we go to grab either the pouch and ruby first." Roxas stated before scratching his sandy blonde locks. "Problem is, I have no idea who or what this 'League of Justice' is. Perhaps we can find out more about them later."
Morpheus nodded his head in agreement. "The Englishman, then, John Constantine. He has the pouch-"
"Or he knows it's last whereabouts." Roxas blurted out. "I'm just assuming, that's all."
"Indeed. Once regaining my pouch, I will have the power to traverse the Gates of Hell itself. And from there we will seek the dreamstone."
Roxas gave a quick nod. Seeing the route they now take has been drawn out with their first stop.
This Englishman, this John Constantine, is just a man, a mortal human.
What could possibly go wrong?
-End Chapter-
AN:
And here is the next chapter of the story. Roxas shall now join Morpheus on his task of retrieving his tools of office.
Not much really going on here aside from developing and setting up the plot.
Now some people had asked when this story takes place in the KH timeline and it obviously happens between Dream Drop Distance and KH3. And as for DC content, I will be using it a lot and try to work with what I can. But I will be using a good portion of Sandman material here and hopefully expand upon it if possible given material over the past several decades for comics and media.
Obviously it'll be a difficult process, but what do you expect these days.
Anyways, be sure to review this story guys! Would like the criticisms. Please and thank you!
R&R