The Hands deposited the gleaming silver chains on the ice in front of Raz. In the moonlight, they almost seemed to glow – pure light to counter the dragon's darkness. He lifted his goggles up onto his forehead for a better look.

Lili peered curiously at the gigantic manacles attached to the chains. They didn't resemble modern handcuffs in the slightest, but a much more archaic design, simply being two metal semi-circles with holes at the ends, linked on one side by a chain link hooked through the holes.

"How are you supposed to lock these?"

The first thing Raz thought of was the rigging shackles sometimes used around the circus. Sure, these looked different, more like something from a medieval dungeon, but the principle was the same.

"I've seen something like this before. You're supposed to put a pin through the holes at the end, and then you keep the pin from falling out by bolting it in place or bending it or something. But where are we going to get pins big enough for this?" He put a hand on his chin, thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "I know! We can use the tent stakes from the circus caravan!"

"Sounds good to me," Lili said. "So, what's the plan? You said you didn't want to put her back in the lake."

Raz shook his head. "No, I don't. But I think Milla was still right about not needing to make a new 'cage' for her."

He looked up at the castle high above. It had seemed so strangely out of place in his mental world; it had nothing to do with his heritage, his personality, or his life. But now he thought he understood what it meant, and why it was there. It was a remote ruin from a bygone era, a place for things of the past to be left behind and forgotten. Where better to imprison a monster from the dark ages?

There was just one problem. Getting the silver shackles to the base of the mountain would be one thing, but even with Lili's help, telekinetically lugging such large objects all the way to the top, over such difficult terrain, was out of the question.

"I want to lock her in her own lair. I just need to figure out how we're gonna get the chains up there…"

Lili turned and looked appraisingly at the mountainside, then smirked. The scraggly leafless branches protruding from the outcrops didn't look like much, but she saw the potential. "Leave it to me, Raz! I bet these trees will be more than happy to help us get rid of a dragon that causes endless winter! You go get those stakes!"

Raz nodded and lowered his goggles again. "Good idea. See you at the top!"

So they went their separate ways, and Razputin was on his own again. He levitated over the snow toward the caravan, following the beacon of the campfire. The snow was piled high outside the circle of wagons, reaching more than two thirds of the way up the wheels, but on the inside, the fire kept the cold at bay. The orange light of the flames gleamed bright on the pristine layers of snow atop the carriages and danced in the dripping icicles hanging off their carved sides.

The Emotional Baggage piled on the caravan still wailed, of course, and perhaps that was why Raz didn't hear the nos until he was quite close. He sprang into a battle stance, expecting an attack, but it didn't come. He poked his head around the side of a wagon to see a pair of Censors – fighting each other. One wore the dark armor of Melancholia's black knights, and the other, a normal business suit.

"…Huh."

The suited Censor turned at the sound of Raz's voice, and promptly got bashed in the face with the knight's shield, sending it sprawling. "No!"

Raz reacted immediately, dispatching the black knight Censor with practiced ease. He kept his fingers at his temple and watched, warily, as the other Censor got back onto its feet and adjusted its glasses. Then it looked at him… and waved. Smiling awkwardly, he waved right back. The Censor then picked up its dropped stamp and scampered off into the darkness.

"So that's what my Censors are supposed to be like," Raz mused aloud. "Guess they're starting to break free from Melancholia's control!"

Razputin picked up the stake he'd left on the ground before and gave it a good look over. It was good, strong metal, and just the right size to fit into the slots in the shackles, with a flattened head that would prevent it from slipping out on one side. All Raz would have to do is block the other side. He held the stake out in front of him and gave it a few experimental psi-blasts, and just as he hoped, it deformed under the psychic pressure.

With his proof-of-concept successful, Raz rushed into the wagon and collected as many stakes as he could, shoved them into his bag, and took off toward the mountain.