The dream began nicely enough. Desmond Theron lazily flew over the lush green forests and tranquil valleys of AEssyria with only calming thoughts in his head. He traveled peacefully, leisurely drifting through the delicate shadowlands in the region between awake and asleep. Disjointed images came and went, none of them having any meaning in themselves. Then, as dreams are prone to do, there were no longer random images passing through his mind; he was in a place. Desmond recognized the event as a royal function, a banquet perhaps, surrounded by friends and soldiers he knew. The banquet was being held in a great hall he'd never been in before but felt familiar nevertheless. Everything was decorated in cool blues and silver giving the hall a cold, impersonal feel. Maybe it was some kind of Winter Festival. Across the room his girlfriend Scarlet was dancing with a soldier Desmond didn't recognize. It was odd because he was pretty sure the man was Kirillian but try as he might he couldn't get a look at the soldier's face because every time the man came close, his face was always a blur. But there was an unmistakable stench in the air, like a sweaty tunic left out in the rain to grow mold.

The most disturbing thing about the man wasn't his aroma but the uniform he wore. It bore a striking resemblance to Desmond's own and even bore the unmistakable insignias of a master sergeant. Desmond knew he was the only Kirillian to hold the rank of master sergeant so he tried to read the gold stitching on the name plate but it was written in a language that was neither Kirillian nor AEssyrian.

He focused on Scarlet who was mesmerizing in a long, tiered, strapless, black dress, her wavy blood-red hair cascading over her shoulders like a winter shawl. For the most part she seemed to be only tolerating her rancid dance partner. She avoided his eyes and went through the motions of the dance but her movements were lethargic and uncoordinated. Her lovely face was slim and pale and it looked like she was going to collapse at any moment. The fright of seeing her like that created a thick knot in Desmond's throat.

He had to get her away from this malevolent stranger.

Desmond pushed through the crowd to get to Scarlet and the bizarre man. All around him people tried to prevent his progress. It started out as just coincidental obstructions. Soldiers meandered in front of him and formed tight conversation circles that Desmond had to circumvent to reach his final destination. As he became more forceful pushing past people their interference became more aggressive. They clawed at his arms and snatched at his uniform until several of the buttons had been ripped off, but still he fought to get closer. When he was only a few feet away the throng of people started getting thicker. Finally, when Desmond couldn't squirm another inch, he yelled out, "Hey!" to the man dancing with Scarlet.

The soldier stopped with his back to Desmond. The stink got thicker, like rotting garbage on a humid day.

The dream soldier held a now limp Scarlet in his arms and with the practiced care of an undertaker, eased her to the floor. Desmond fought against the crush of the people but nothing he did seemed to matter. Then just as he thought they would overwhelm him, they suddenly all moved back. He ignored them and walked up to the dream soldier who was now standing over Scarlet. Desmond placed his hand on the man's shoulder and the soldier turned around.

The first thing Desmond thought when he looked into the soldier's face was that he had lost his sanity. For the soldier's face wasn't that of a stranger, it was his own with a horrifying twist. It leered at him with the savage visage of an escaped lunatic and smiled with a mouthful of tiny sharp teeth.

Desmond felt the blood drain from his face. He stumbled back and shuddered. He didn't want any part of his body touching that horrible monster. Somewhere in the dark recesses of Desmond's soul his mind started unraveling. A soundless scream inside his brain grew louder and louder, drowning out every sane and rational thought. Desmond strained against the horror of the dream, trying as hard as he could to wake himself up but none of his usual tricks were working.

Gotta wake up...gotta wake up...gotta wake up...

The yelling in his head was deafening, but each rising decibel brought the name up to the forefront. I should have known it was too easy. Desmond summoned all his will and like a drowning man surfacing for the last time, he broke from the dream. Sitting up in bed drenched in an icy sweat he opened his eyes and there he was.

Desmond spit the name out like a curse. "Titan."

His grandfather stood at the foot of the bed dressed all in black. The very air around him felt heavy and sticky like old glue. The wizard gave him a demon's smile. "The banquet has come to an end. It's now time to pay the check."

Desmond frowned at Titan. "I'm ready."

Titan threw his head back and laughed. It was light, mirthful and full of vile corruption. "No you're not. No one ever is." Titan took a step back to reveal a full-length mirror. In it was the doppelganger from Desmond's nightmare, the thing that looked somewhat like him. Eerily it smiled showing many rows of razor-like teeth. Then it walked up to the glass, grabbed the mirror frame and stepped out of the reflection. Desmond glanced at Scarlet sleeping next to him and felt his stomach wrench. How was he ever going to explain this horror show to her? How was he ever going to keep her safe? Desmond's stomach lurched and twisted so tightly he thought he was going to purge.

Titan took a few steps back letting the furthest corner of the room immerse him in darkness. "I'll leave the two of you to get acquainted. Good luck, Desmond."

"Screw you, Titan."

Black velvet laughter tumbled over his nerves and the whole room seemed to grow darker. Hatred fired Desmond's mind. Of course! Just as his life was starting to turn around, Titan has to tear it apart. It was more than he could stomach. He leapt from the bed and grabbed his saber, hoping he could kill the evil bastard before the wizard could melt into the night. But just as he reached the spot where Titan had been, the old relic was gone. Desmond glanced around the room but didn't see his evil twin anywhere either. A gust of foul-smelling wind blew in from the open window as the rain beat against the stone sill.

Desmond wanted to believe the wizard had taken his abomination with him but that wasn't likely. No, Titan had found a new plaything and would use this new spell to torment him until Desmond did just what the bastard wanted him to do--kill himself. Then his collection of Gavin's dead sons, who dared pursue a military career, would be complete.