It was littered with delicacies from all over. Places without names, and places with names too difficult to speak had all contributed to the menagerie of deliciousness along the forty-foot stretch of solid oak. The people in the Draconian, Skid?s, way either scattered or bowed; the difference in the acts showed whether or not they knew the Vision and her pet well. Skid noted that there were a disturbingly large number of children at this particular event, and filed that thought away on the importance scale somewhere between acquiring a treat for the Vision and deciding where he was going to die when he grew old and feeble. His feet, bare and taloned, carried him the remaining distance to the table.

It was here that the issue arose.

The tables at these things usually held everything that anyone could?ve asked for. This one was empty on the Vision?s choice of delectables. In his mind, Skid just lost a bout with a steamroller. He quickly sized up the remainder of items on the table, and knew from that lone glance that none of them could provide what she desired; what she needed. His eye flashed across the guests, wondering if there was perhaps some floating through the crowd, being passed out by a fool with a tray. Anything was possible, after all.

When he headed into the crowds, it was a much greater hassle to move unhindered. People danced as far as one could see, wild and close and in manners unbefitting of their status in the outside world. The grinding masses drove Skid to veritably slither his way through, in the most clich?d of manners. Some recognized him, some reached out for him; a few touched him, and the new to the affairs simply stared. One woman was bold enough to pull him in to a dance with her. He gave her a perfunctory roll of his eye, showing recognition on some level, before allowing himself to become part of the spectacle. A hand slipped around a waist, bodies moved, and people screamed in delight when their favored songs played. After Skid had indulged the woman, and made his observations on the dancers, he slipped away and into the more controlled portion of the crowd.

Here they stood and spoke, sampled rare delicacies from foreign lands brought out by underpaid servers, and drank wines that cost more than their ridiculous outfits. The Draconian slipped through them with an elegance that was unearthly and impossibly natural for him. He observed the ?cr?me de la cr?me,? and their sickeningly extravagant ways. They truly had no idea what life outside these places was like. Not like her, the Vision, who had no need to know. She didn?t have to live double-lives, face the public, or even acknowledge her own. She was beyond it. And she wanted something. The remembrance of the entire reason for him leaving her side crashed into him like one of the two-ton chandeliers hanging from the high-arched ceilings. He eyed the guests and the servers closely, not wanting to interrupt anything that might end up biting him later, and finally spotted what he was looking for after a good ten minutes of silent wanderings.

When he finally calmed the woman and got her to follow, he headed for the Vision?s chambers. He knew she?d still be with her guests, but that would be remedied soon enough. He left her in the room alone, with nothing but a reassuring smile. She was so happy, she kissed him. He was surprised more by that than her following words. ?Thank you so much, for everything!? He couldn?t fight back a snicker, but masked it as quickly as possible.

The Vision was standing at the peak of a crowd, nearly uncaring at their attention. When he arrived at her side, she graced him with a glance, and a quirked brow. ?Have you nothing for me, love?? The Draconian dipped his head, hiding a knowing grin as he responded. ?I had to get something a little exotic, but I?m sure it will be to your liking, Lady Nox.? When her quirked brow raised a hair further, and her lips twitched in a way that would suggest a smile under less social conditions, Skid knew she was pleased. He had hoped as much.

She excused herself from the guests a moment later, and the Draconian followed her through the palace, the crowds, and the servers minus one.

Once they had actually reached the door, she opened it and glanced inside. The startled sounds of the server-girl told Skid she?d probably been sitting upon the bed, or something else valuable-looking, when the door had been opened. It was quickly shut, and for a brief moment all pretense fell. The Vision pulled him close, and pressed a kiss against his maw. She smiled, and whispered indecipherable words of affection into the fabric of his shirt. He could?ve melted, then. After that brief moment, however, she regained her composure and entered the room.

The only sounds to leave that room thereafter were cut off in a half-scream. The Draconian tested the door and, finding it locked, moved back down the stairs and into the party. He surveyed the guests; spoke with the few that knew him beyond appearance, and whenever questioned on the whereabouts of the Vision, responded with a simple, ?She?s entertaining.?

The creature knew what the Council used him for. He also knew that the only way to break free of his prison was from the outside; with the one lock. He?d discovered it a few years back. He?d wasted the first decade or two of his imprisonment trying to destroy the bars themselves, or to break through the floor of the place. Well, as any Enchanter could?ve told him, the place had so many ordered and stacked spells on it that he could?ve taken millennia and done nothing to it. So as a voice spoke into the ear of the mage, it knew exactly what it wanted from him.

?Break the seal, Cassius. Let me out and I?ll be indebted to you. I?ll serve you. I?ll destroy the fools that even dare to question your power. And I?ll leave you all to yourself, untouched and unhindered. Think of it, Cassius. The multiverse could be yours, with one simple spell.? This was almost exactly what the mage had been warned of. The lock was ingenious in design, being able to contain any one thing in the multiverse within it at a time. From the inside, nothing could leave. From the outside, nothing could enter. The only way to the captive inside was to exchange places with it, which usually required a ?sacrifice? of sorts.

That might?ve been the reason why the council restricted access to one at a time. Nobody was foolish enough to exchange places with that ridiculous creature. It was a death sentence.

Part of the Present. The Second Mask.

It was fairly dark along the path leading to Skid?s lair. He?d been trailed along by Stitch for a while now, but in the state he was in (One in which his body had shifted as badly as his grip on sanity) there wasn?t much chance of acknowledging him. Of course, carrying the dead body of a dear friend upon his shoulder wasn?t helping the matter. Especially considering the fact that he?d killed her himself, and had likely enjoyed every sweet moment of her passing. His mind began to churn after a while, and even in his endless madness, a scene unfolded. Sort of like a vision brought on by delirium. Native American themes running through the head of a Draconian? A Daemon? No. Just coincidence and Chaos.

He began to laugh as he remembered the faces of things he knew and thought of from time to time. None of them were very clear, and there was one he was certain was missing. He couldn't quite place it, but it caused him to hold onto his beloved corpse all the more dearly. There was one thing for certain. He just wasn't sure of what it was. Burning skies and endless rain were the above the empty landscape in the field within his mind. He was standing on one side, under the rain, kept cool.

His safety. He was safe in the rain, in the misery, in the discord and pained freedom. The other side; the dry, burning air and pain of heat and impending death dragged the crowd at the edge of it, before the wall of rain he stood at. Who were they? They were his friends. Or, they were those he acknowledged something about in some way, shape or form. Maybe he cared for them. He could only watch as they burned slowly. He wondered why they didn't try to come into the rain. Why they were content with burning and shriveling slowly until death came to them. There was one with him in the rain. He didn't see, because he couldn't look away from the crowd, but he could feel him there.