Whispers of the Past

Chapter One: The Rightful Owner

((Note from the Author: This story takes place during the events following Lurking in the Forest))

The forest echoed with the sounds made by small footsteps. The light of dusk still offered enough illumination to make any woodland inhabitants visable.

Into a familiar clearing, Jonas emerged from the thick surrounding of trees, his face veiled in the shadow offered by his magician's hat. The clearing where he and his mentor had, a few days prior, waged battle with a beast the likes of which neither had ever encountered.

The mage peered around, seeing dried puddles and splatters of blood from the gruesome encounter, and the discarded skeleton of the beast they had slain. No doubt the other creatures of the forest had already made several meals out of it's flesh, else it would not be so deteriorated this soon.

Jonas looked about the clearing, unsure of what he was exactly looking for. There was a calm silence. An almost eerily soothing quality to the area. He could think. He could ponder here, even amidst memories of the bloodbath.

Did I control it? The question echoed in Jonas' mind repeatedly throughout his journey to this location. Memories of shifting into his Demonic form and annihalating the creature, and then turning back to his normal Angelic existance immediately thereafter. In the past, he could not recall a time that he, in that form, had stopped destroying until someone managed to subdue him.

I saw him laying there, he thought as he spotted the place Dameon fell, and once the beast was slain I turned back to normal and ran to aid him. Jonas walked to the spot, so much blood during the battle that the soil in that particular place was still slightly wet from it.

I couldn't have controlled it. I've never been able to. But I was pretty drained when I reverted... maybe that form just ran out of energy... Jonas pondered as he looked down at the blood-stained soil, until he heard it.

The rustling of leaves, the cracking of twigs. On the other side of the clearning, Jonas turned around to see a tall figure in a dark brown cloak standing silently. This person was maybe six feet all, best estimate Jonas could make from his miniscule stature.

The figure was shrouded in it's cloak, and the hood of the cloak was up over the person's head so all Jonas could see were shadows instead of a face.

"You've got something..." The person spoke, and by the voice Jonas immediately identified them as a male. The cloaked man made a few short steps toward Jonas, to which Jonas immediately took a step back, crossing his arms beneath his own cloak suspiciously.

"I've got what?" Jonas implored, in his usual soft and meak voice, with just a hint of indignancy to his tone.

"You've got something..." the man continued, "...that belongs to me." The man raised a hand from under his cloak, which was garbed in a simple black leather glove, and his arm was also covered by a black sleeve, possibly from a tunic, or a simple linen shirt, Jonas could not tell. All Jonas knew was that this hand was pointed directly at him, half open, palm downward.

Jonas opened his cloak, and peered at it's contents curiously. All he knew that was on him were a few nourishing elixers he'd whipped up earlier, and an arbitrary amount of coins which would probably later be deposited into the till at the Red Dragon.

"I have nothing. You've got the wrong guy." Jonas slowly began to turn away, when the man spoke again.

"It's not on you..." The man's voice took a deep turn, growing stern. "It's in you." The man took another step forward, causing Jonas to stop mid-turn and face him once more, taking a few more nervous steps away from him.

"In me? I have nothing in me that doesn't belong to me, sir." Jonas' voice began to tremble, a slight twinge of fear overaking it. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The man tilted his head, which remained shrouded in the cloak's hood, as he placed his hand back within his cloak as well. "You are Dameon Darklor's page, correct?" The man offered an impossible amount of time to respond before continuing. "I have the right person."

Jonas' eyes widened slightly, as he quirked a brow. "How do you know that name...?" Jonas now took a slow step forward. "No one has called him that since before we left RhyDin."

The man let out a low and deep laugh for only a few seconds, and then shook his head. "How long have you known your mentor?"

"Um..." Jonas stopped to think back for a few seconds, "I think about eight and a half years..."

"How did you meet?" The man's voice was half inquisitive, and half patronizing.

"I ran away from RhyDin Orphanage... and I met him when he and his fath--err... foster father were near town buying supplies. He took me in."

The man simply shook his head. "I see. So they never told you... interesting. I wonder if they told Mr. Darklor."

Jonas narrowed his eyes, visably frustrated by this point. "Who never told me what? You're making no sense!"

The man nodded, taking a few steps back. "You'll know in time. I still plan to take back what's mine." With that, the man continued walking back until his figure was lost in the woods.

"Wait! Who are you?!" Jonas ran forward a few steps before stopping, looking around him and realizing the man was gone.

Who was that guy? And how does he know Dameon... Jonas furrowed a brow in confusion before lowering his head, closing his eyes and disappearing from the woods in a blue puff of smoke.

((End Chapter One))

((Note from the Jonas: The next chapter was co-written by myself and Dameon, as some of the short exchanges would have been too many posts with too little content. Due to it's final length, it's been split into two posts.))

Chapter 3: The Researchers

The Library was quiet when Dameon and Jonas walked in. With file folders in hand, they made their way to a long wooden table where they could sit and perform their research. Dameon sat in a chair on one side of the table, and Jonas directly across from him.

They sat the stack of file folders down in front of them, and Jonas eyed them inquisitively. He then began separating the files according to what was written on their tabs. He made four distinct stacks, and looked up across the table at Dameon.

"Alright," he began, "I've looked through these and this is what we've got to work with. One stack contains records from the RhyDin Orphanage twenty-three years ago. Another contains RhyDin Orphanage files from twenty-two years ago." He paused as Dameon nodded, making sure he was understood. "The other two stacks are from RhyDin Hospital. Twenty-four years ago and twenty-two years ago."

Dameon looked the stacks over, shaking his head. "So, presumably... if you were born in RhyDin, this would detail our respective birth records, and our respective admittance into RhyDin Orphanage, correct?" Dameon's expression turned to one of quiet wonderment.

In truth, Dameon was far more intelligent than he normally let on, and Jonas knew this. Jonas was just the stronger researcher and examiner. What Dameon lacked in intellect, he made up for in defensive skills and strength, and the opposite rang true for Jonas.

"So, if we want to do this the smart way, we'll each look for our own birth records and Orphanage admittance papers." Jonas nodded as he finished speaking, and then slid the twenty-four year old hospital stack and the twenty-three year old Orphanage records over to Dameon, and the remaining two stacks he pulled closer to himself.

Jonas' first move was to his stack of hospital files, which he began leafing through slowly, examining each newborn's name, seeing if he might find his own.

Dameon also looked through his stack of hospital files, moving straight to the 'D' section. "Darklor, Darklor... I'm not finding any Darklors, Jonas." He arched a brow, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Nope. There is no birth record for a Dameon Darklor in 'ere. This is a bloody wild goose chase." With that, he threw the stack down at the table, a few files sliding toward Jonas.

"Dameon..." Jonas shook his head, sighing. "Don't look for anything specific. Look at what's there." With that, he continued looking through the birth records he had, until he stopped. "Hey." His lips grew into a bright smile as he looked down at the file he was holding. "This is it, I think. 'Michael James Jonas, born 1:37 a.m. to James Jonas (Angel), and Rebecca Jon--" He stopped, blinking a few times. "Wait, this isn't right."

"Hm?" Dameon looked up at Jonas, tilting his head. "What isn't right?"

"Well," Jonas started, "it says here both my father and mother were Angelic. But I'm half Demon." He shook his head, a puzzled look overtaking him. "How can I be half Demon if both of my parents were Angels?"

Dameon rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "This is getting us bugger all. These files make no sense. There's no record of my being born, and it 'as your lineage wrong."

"But... these are official hospital records." Jonas took a deep breath, looking over the file again. "But it definetely makes me out to be completely Angelic." With that, he grabbed the file Dameon had tossed his way. "And it has to have some record of you in here somewhere." He began furiously leafing through the files. "Maybe your's was misfiled somewhere."

"Not likely, it all seems to 'ave been carefully prepared for us to rummage through like bloody idiots."

Jonas ignored his comment for the time being, intently looking through the files until he stopped, his eyes scanning a page carefully. "Dameon... does the name Rubyscale mean anything to you?"

((Author's Tidbit: Same as previous chapter. Co-Written by all involved into one large "storybook" style format. Rolled a die for who got the Crowns. Guess who won?))

Chapter 4 - Predator and Prey

It was around dusk over the RhyDin Orphanage. After a meeting at the Red Dragon over what should be done regarding the findings within the files, it was decided that the only logical path was to seek out this "Donald Dawson" and ask him a few questions in person.

However, having no idea where to even find this person currently, a set of dutiful footsteps made their way up the stairs to the front door of the Orphanage. Straightening out his cloak and running his fingers through his black hair, Dameon knocked briskly upon the door.

"One second!" A woman's voice called out. The door then opened shortly thereafter, as a petit maid offered a nod of greeting to the knight. "Hello, sir. What brings you here this evening?"

"Could I possibly speak to the person in charge of..." Dameon paused, trying to think of who he was even looking for, before he continued, "...the 'ead of human resources?"

"Excuse me, sir?" The maid simply blinked at him, curiosity sweeping over her expression. "You do know where you are, do you not?"

"Pardon me." Dameon sighed, calmly explaining himself. "I would like to see whoever might be in charge of personnel records. You know... which caretakers 'ave worked 'ere over the years?"

"Oh! I see. Well, that would be Mr. Lucas. Please follow me, sir." The maid bowed her head politely, leading Dameon in the direction of the Orphanage office halls.

Before he stepped through the door after her, Dameon turned back slightly, offering a quick nod behind him, watching as a pair of blue smoke clouds erupted and dessipated just below the front stairs. He then took hurried steps to catch up with the maid, peering about anxiously, unsure of what he might have to do to obtain the information he sought.

She finally stopped in front of a door adorning a small nameplate reading "Lucas." She gestured towards it quietly.

"This is Mr. Lucas' office," she said, disregarding the fact that she was simply stating the obvious. "You've come with perfect timing. He is just preparing to go home for the night."

"Thank you, miss. I no longer require your assistance." With that, Dameon turned toward the door, turning the handle quickly and with purpose.

The maid, growing worried over thoughts of Dameon's possible intents, placed a hand on his shoulder gently.

"Do you mean... to hurt Mr. Lucas? Sir?" She said with a quivering voice.

"No," Dameon said, with a shake of his head, "I simply mean to 'ave a friendly chat with 'im."

The maid nodded her acknowledgement and skittered back down the halls. Dameon gently opened the door and let himself in. When he entered he saw a man of average height sitting behind a large wooden desk, straightening papers and placing them into an open briefcase, which obstructed the man's view of Dameon, as his head was lowered and focused on what he was doing.

"I'm just getting ready to go home," he began. "Is there something wrong with one of the children?"

Dameon closed the door behind him, turning the locking mechanism on the door as he did so. When the man behind the desk heard the clicking, he promptly shut his briefcase and looked up to see not an Orphanage maid, but a large and somewhat imposing figure of a knight standing inside his office.

"Fortunately there is nothing wrong with any of the children 'ere, mate," Dameon offered calmly. "'Owever, there are two adoptees of your facility who would like to 'ave a few questions cleared up."

And with that, a cloud of blue smoke erupted on either side of Dameon. When the smoke cleared, the man saw two new people standing inside his office.

"Am I correct in assuming that you're the Personnel Administrator here?" To Dameon's left stood and spoke Jonas, clad in his blue steepled magician's hat and long hooded blue cloak, which his arms were neatly folded underneath over his chest.

"Woah... I've never teleported Jonas' way before..." To Dameon's right stood and spoke Ness, backpack full of goodies worn for the occassion, his hands placed gently on his hips. "That blue poofing stuff is a little trippy."

"My name is Lucas." The man nodded nonchalantly. "I am in charge of employee records here. What is the nature of this... highly unorthadox visit to my office?"

"We're looking for someone who used to work here, sir." Jonas stepped forward, standing between Dameon and Lucas' desk. "He was a caretaker here. Goes by the name of Donald Dawson. We... have a few things we need to ask him."

"Dawson..." The man shook his head for a second, losing and regaining his composure in seemingly record time. "I'd have to ask who you are and what your business with him is."

"Our names are Dameon Leopold Rubyscale and Michael James Jonas," Dameon said sharply. "We are former residents of your facility, and he was our caretaker."

"Isn't your last name Phoenix?" Ness looked up at Dameon, arching a brow, confused.

"...not now, Ness." Jonas glanced back at his friend quickly before returning his gaze to Lucas.

Meanwhile, Lucas was simply standing behind his desk, silently mouthing the two names to himself, almost frantically. A look of near terror was painted over his countenance, as he shook his head.

"I appologize, sirs, but I am unable to disclose that kind of information." Lucas stammered his words out, tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Well..." Jonas spoke softly, a regrettable tone in his voice. "You see... my friends here are men of action. They tend to get a little... physical... when people decide against cooperating."

"I told you," Lucas sputtered, "it is against protocol to give you the whereabouts of a former caretaker!"

"Oh it is, is it?" Dameon growled, snapping his fingers out to the side in front of Ness. "Well then 'ow about we give you some incentive?"

Upon Dameon's finger snapping, Ness ran out in front, leaping up into Lucas' desk and sending a foot out to kick him in the chest. Lucas, being completely frozen in fear, fell back into his plush chair almost limply, staring in shock as Ness then reached back to a holster on his backpack, producing a yo-yo which he flung around and sent in several circles around Lucas' chair, tying him securely to it. Ness then hopped off of the desk to stand to it's side.

Dameon, seeing Ness' successful detainment of the clerk, stepped forward and drew his sword from his left hip sheath with his right hand, swinging it about and holding it just before Lucas' throat.

"Please don't hurt me! At least not where the children can be exposed to it!" Lucas wailed, closing his eyes tightly and preparing for the worst.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Jonas, threw his arms out in a halting motion, jumping up onto the desk to face Dameon. "Wait just a second there! Let's not get too hasty!" Jonas then turned and looked down toward Lucas, shrugging with a sigh. "I don't know. I told you they get physical. I mean..." He tilted his head, biting a lip to feign nervousness. "I can stop them this time... but when the big one gets angry, I can't really do much about him..."

"And that's unlucky for you, mate," Dameon hissed out, his ice blue eyes flickering a quick fiery red as he spoke, "I'm just about angry..."

"So," Ness interjected, "about this Dawson dude?"

"I was told specifically..." Lucas spoke shakily, "...that if anyone with the name Rubyscale, or Jonas..." he paused, remembering the rest of his list before continuing, "...or Darklor, De'Mero or Talgraen ever came asking about Mr. Dawson..." He stopped, visably hesitant to continue further.

"If they asked...?" Jonas stared at Lucas with intent. "Go on. What were your instructions? Big dragon man here likes getting his sword stained by people who trail off." Jonas gestured quickly to Dameon as he spoke, refolding his arms underneath his cloak afterwards. "The other one also likes breaking people's kneecaps with that baseball bat on his backpack."

"I was told not to say where he was living now, okay?!" Lucas looked up at them all, scowling angrily. "He told me that if I ever led any of those people to him that he would have me killed!"

"I've got news for ya, dude," Ness replied with a snicker. "If you don't give him to us, he ain't gonna have the chance to put you down for the dirt nap."

"...I see your point..." Lucas sighed, looking downward. "He lives in a villa... out in the forest. South of here." He looked up at Jonas. "He said that what he was doing during his time here would land him in a lot of hot water if especially you two ever caught wind of it. I don't even know what it was, but from what I can figure now it must have burnt you guys good."

"Let's see..." Dameon offered, withdrawing his sword and sliding it back into it's sheath. "I just found out that the man who claimed to be my birth father really wasn't, and that he was some'ow involved in making my brother 'ere part demonic. And apparently this Dawson bloke might 'ave made it all possible."

"As I said, sir..." Lucas shook his head. "I had nothing to do with Dawson's dealings, nor do I know what they were. I was simply charged with protecting his location. And now I will probably be killed for it."

"Oh, don't worry," Jonas chimed in. "Once we find out what exactly took place all those years ago, you won't need to worry about Donald Dawson coming after you. We'll see to it that he's handed over to the proper authorities."

And with that, Dameon turned toward the door to the hallway, unlocking it and flinging it open, stepping out of the office. Jonas shortly thereafter jumped down from the desk and followed him out into the hall.

"Keep the yo-yo, dude. I've got more." Ness waved his goodbyes to Lucas as he too made his way out behind Dameon and Jonas.

The trio quietly made their way out of the office wing, and discreetly exited through the front door, making sure not to alert anyone into going to check on Lucas... yet.

When they made it down the stairs and began making their way toward the outskirts where Dameon's house stood, Ness stopped abruptly, leaning down and picking something strange off of the ground in front of him.

"Yo! Jonas! Check it out!" He waved it in the air, running after the two who had continued a few yards ahead. "It looks official." He extended it to Jonas, who took it curiously.

It was another file folder. When Jonas opened it up, he gazed down upon it, a look of silent realization and utter confusion mixing over him in one instant.

"What is it, Psy?" Dameon put his hands on his hips, looking down at Jonas.

"Dameon..." Jonas began softly. "It's a wedding license for your birth parents. The Rubyscales?"

"Alright. What's so bloody strange about it?" Dameon peered down at him cocking his head.

"Well... it says here that your mother's maiden name was Fiona De'Mero..." Jonas looked up at Dameon, shaking his head. "But that's the last name of the man who adopted you. Thomas De'Mero. Our mystery guy knows that, too. Because he asked me if I knew Dameon De'Mero."

"A lot of people know that, Psy," Dameon responded casually. "When we first showed up in these parts that was the name I was still going by. This one could be complete coincidence."

"Still seems fishy, dude," Ness offered. "If your tip-off guy gave you file folders of documents to begin with, this certificate showing up in one can't be a coincidence. I think he's tailing you two."

"That makes sense... we should keep our guards up." Dameon nodded, straightening his cloak again as he resumed the walk home.

His two clansmen followed in tow, all the while oblivious to the eyes that were affixed to them in the night.

((End of Chapter 4))

A cloud of blue smoke erupted next to Dameon on the roof. When it cleared, Jonas stood next to him, his arms folded underneath his cloak, and a quiet contemplative look in his eyes.

"You've been up here for a while. I think just being away for today should be enough. What do you say tomorrow we spend some time with the girls at the Red Dragon?"

Jonas looked down at him almost eagerly. It wasn't like him to crave outings in social places, but the friends he'd made recently seemed to make it easier.

Jonas blinked, visably taken aback by the sudden change of topic. He looked downward, nodding.

"I assumed I'd told you... but I guess I was sketchy on the details that day..."

Jonas looked up at him, his usually brown eyes turning a soft greenish color, as they almost cried out for forgiveness.

"It was... the first day I actually shifted into my demon form..." Jonas sighed, trying to gather the words. "I was so angry at how I'd been treated, that I snapped, and that part of me awoke in an instant."

He then shook his head, his eyes widening. "But I didn't kill anyone! Especially not any of the other children. I just remember throwing attendants and maids this way and that to clear a path out. Once I was out, I ducked into the woods, and crept around the parimeter of the town."

He nodded, smiling a bit. "And then I found you. So you know the rest of the story. Although I've never figured out why they didn't pursue me further."

A shrug. "Oh well. I guess it was for the best. Now come on, let's go inside because I need sleep and Kira's probably gonna worry all night about you catching a cold."

With that, Jonas disappeared again in another blue cloud of smoke, leaving Dameon alone on the roof.

Chapter 6 - The Road to Truth

It was just after dusk in RhyDin Forest. A heavy blanket of fog had rolled in, almost as though timed for the evening. The forest was quiet, save for the chirping and jittering of assorted furry woodland critters.

In the midst of a small clearing stood a large mansion, surrounded by a high brick wall. Down a small road coming from the mansion's front steps was a break in the wall, occupied by a large, mechanical iron gate. In front of the gate was a uniformed employee of the mansion, standing vigil on the road.

Much planning and discussion had gone into the next mission. And this time the boys even managed to leave notes behind for the girls in the clan, to hopefully lessen the severity of their stern talking-to's as they had gotten after the Orphanage fiasco.

Ness had the first phase. Gingerly, he rolled up the road on his wheeled sneakers, holding a pizza box up in his right hand. Approaching the gate, he skidded to a halt, looking up at the supposed rent-a-cop.

"Yo dude!" He beamed, holding the pizza box out. "I've got a delivery for one Donny Dawson. You gotta open the gate so I can deliver this pizza. If I take too much longer, my tip's gonna be down the chutes, if ya catch my drift."

The guard looked down curiously, eyeing the box, and then eyeing Ness. "I was informed of no such delivery. I must clear this with Mr. Dawson."

"We can't waste time, dude! Think of my freakin' tip! Just let me in!" Ness bellowed, waving the pizza box around. "It's only getting colder, and Mr. D isn't gonna be happy if he has to eat cold pizza, now is he?!" Ness then began stomping around, waving the pizza box around like a madman.

The guard, completely perplexed as to how he should react, waved his arms around in an attempt to grab the boy's attention. "Alright! Alright! I will open the gate! Please calm down!" And with that, the guard grabbed a key from his belt-loop, sliding it into a locking mechanism which caused the gate to slowly begin opening.

Once the gate was open halfway, Ness spun around with a cheerful grin. "Yo dude, what's your favorite kinda pizza?"

"Uh," the guard said, tilting his head, "I suppose it would be Sausage. Why do you ask?"

"Because," Ness laughed, "this one is Pepperoni, so I hope you're not disappointed!" As Ness rang out his final words, the pizza box was opened and sent squarely into the guard's face, causing him to stumble back a few feet as Ness sprinted through the gate. "I'll give my regards to your boss!"

Once the guard regained his composure, he brought his hands up to clear the pizza from his eyes. Making a motion to chase after Ness, he was stopped by a large hand grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. Once the guard was turned, a large fist bearing a black steel gauntlet was thrown into his face, knocking him out cold.

Dameon withdrew his hand with a shrug. "Not a fan of pizza, I wager."

As the guard went down, Jonas was next to come sprinting along, leaping over the guard's unconcious carcass and through the gate. Dameon followed shortly behind, ruffling his black cloak behind him.

As the three reached the midpoint of the pathway between the gate and the front door, they stopped, looking around and then to one another.

"Well," Dameon began, "that was simple enough. Nice job with the delivery boy bit, Ness."

"Pfft," Ness retorted with a sly grin, "easy as pie."

Just then, several guards ran out of the front door, making a bee-line for the trio, batons in hand and poised over their shoulders.

"Here they come, guys!" Jonas exclaimed. "Remember, the name of the game is subdue. Don't kill!"

And with that, they were off, running towards the stairs to meet the guards as they came to the bottom. First was Ness, whipping his baseball bat around over his shoulder from it's holster on his backpack, swinging this way and that to bring a few guards crashing to the floor after a couple bops on the head.

As Jonas entered the melee, he extended his right hand, his black wizard's staff appearing before it in a blue cloud of smoke. He grabbed it and took a low swing at a guard coming his way, sweeping him literally off his feet and to the ground. As another guard circled around and began coming to him from behind, he swing the staff again, this time sending a blast of frost toward the guard's feet, forming a chunk of ice that extended from midway up the guard's calves and down onto the pathway, holding him in place.

Dameon, moving rather nonchalantly, and obviously disappointed that his sword would get no excersize, simply grabbed guards by the arms as they approached him and threw them limply off to either side. As he was distracted by this bit of fun, a guard came up from behind and managed to swing his baton down atop Dameon's head, breaking it into two pieces, a few splinters flying off this way and that.

Dameon turned, unamused, his eyes flickering a quick flash of fiery red as he shoved the guard back, causing him to stumble a few feet. He then simply threw a hand in front of himself, palm facing outward, as a ball of flame erupted from it and exploded into the guard's torso, sending him flying several yards backwards until finally landing with a dull thud.

Jonas ducked and weaved his way up the steps, twirling his staff about to keep guards distanced from him. As he reached the top of the porch, on the opposite side of the fracas, he turned around and began firing bolts of shadow-based energy into guards who were busy with his other two companions.

Ness, seeing Jonas' course of action, nodded in agreement, and leapt up into the air, landing atop one of the guard's heads and flipping himself to land next to Jonas, raising his right hand to his right temple, and holding his left hand outwards towards the guards, who were now turning their attention to the two, deciding it best to leave Dameon for the moment.

Dameon, not one to argue, simply reached into his cloak to produce a cigarette, which he placed between his lips. Offering a quick inhale and a short blink, the tip of the cigarette lit in a quick flicker of flame, allowing him to take the first initial drag as a guard saw an opportunity to take a swing. Sighing, Dameon drew his sword quickly, slashing the guard's torso in one clean motion, sending him spiraling to the ground.

After the matter of seconds it took Dameon to perform this series of actions, Ness' plan was already coming to fruition as several guards had now began running back up the steps towards he and Jonas. Unfortunately they were too late, as now a myriad assortment of telekinetic beams were firing at them from seemingly thin air. This mixed with Jonas' shadow bolts was enough to nearly empty the herd, as the final telekinetic blast of Ness' attack seemed to engulf all who were left standing, sending them dropping to the ground.

Jonas looked down at Dameon once the guards were fallen, sighing as he eyed the one who was slashed. "Didn't we agree that no one would be killed?!"

Dameon took another drag, looking at Jonas and exhaling smoke as he replied, "It's only a shallow wound. He'll live. Remember, I'm rather big, and don't 'ave the flashy little magic bits that you two 'ave." And with that, he began ascending the steps, maneuvering around unconcious guards until he reached the front door, throwing it open sharply, stepping inside.

"I 'ope Dawson doesn't mind me smoking in 'is place." Dameon peered around the lobby of the mansion. From his place on the front landing he could see a large staircase directly in front of him that lead into the upstairs foyer. Off to the left was a large kitchen, and to the right was the den. At the base of the stairs, toward the back wall, Dameon saw a door that presumably led into a basement.

"Should we check upstairs first?" Jonas wondered as he stepped through the door, looking about at the layout of this house. "He's probably hiding up there. Maybe in his study."

"You guys are sure that was all the guards?" Ness was the last to step in, looking up at Dameon. "I mean, that was a little easy, wasn't it? We practically just waltzed right on in. We tore through those dudes like tissue paper."

"Hired muscle." Dameon's words were direct, without any true tone. "Probably plain humans off the street Dawson 'ired in a vain attempt to protect 'is mansion from common thieves. I'm altogether certain that the bloke never expected Jonas or myself to come 'ere."

"Well, I'm going to check upstairs," Jonas offered, straightening his cloak. "You two stay here in case more guards show up, or Dawson comes out of somewhere else." And so, he snapped his fingers, disappearing in a cloud of blue smoke, and reappearing in the same fashion at the top of the stairs.

"'Eh wot?!" Dameon arched a brow, in disbelief as Jonas poofed himself up the stairs. "I'm the bloody leader 'ere! I give the orders!"

"Oh?" Jonas looked down the stairs, calling to Dameon. "And you have a better plan, I take it?"

"Erm..." Dameon blinked, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "No, it's alright. You do what you said... I'll spare you my other possible plans." Dameon then waved dismissively, as Jonas began looking around the foyer.

"You didn't have any other plans, did you?" Ness offered to Dameon, placing his hands on his hips.

"Not a bloody one," Dameon replied, taking a drag from his cigarette, "but still."

Meanwhile, upstairs, Jonas threw open a random door he came to, stepping inside cautiously. There was a large wooden desk, behind which was a plush chair. A home office, perhaps? Walking about the room, behind the desk and looking underneath it, Jonas realized that no one was present, and made his way back onto the foyer.

Coming now to door number two, Jonas threw it open, peering inside. The master bedroom, it would seem. A single large bed sat in the middle of it, draped by a fanciful veil, and adorned with satin pillows. To the side of the bed was a nightstand with a single lamp and clock. And then to the far wall was an opening to a large and lavish balcony, adorned with golden safety railings, and a marble table with plush balcony chairs.

Jonas barely had time to soak in all of the room before a candelabra was sent down onto his head, causing him to fall to his hands and knees with a loud yelp.

"What are you doing in my house?! Who are you, thief?!" The figure behind Jonas held the candelabra still, taking a few steps toward the door leading back to the foyer. He stood roughly six feet tall, and had a slightly bulky build. His head was bald, and he had a scruffy gray moustache over his lips, and a pair of small circular glasses. He was wearing a dark green silk robe and black slippers.

"My name is Michael Jonas..." Jonas replied, lifting himself to his feet and turning around, narrowing his eyes. "And I presume you're Donald Dawson?"

In the night and morning following the destruction of Dawson's mansion, reports of the collapse spread, with information sketchy. No one was aware that the three were presumably trapped underneath the rubble of the basement. All that emergency workers and volunteers sifting through the debris knew was that there were several guards crushed under the wreckage, and that they could not find any signs of the mansion's owner anywhere, living or otherwise.

With the dead guards having been merely incapacitated during the invasion, each and every one of their causes of death was ruled as being crushed by the debris as they attempted to escape the collapsing mansion. As for the front gate guard, his account of a shady pizza delivery boy and a man in black subduing him were dismissed as a faulty excuse for having fallen asleep on the job after getting a little too carried away with his ordered-in dinner.

Search efforts subsided rather quickly, as nothing was turned up indicating that Donald Dawson was even present at the time of his home being destroyed. And so the emergency workers left, as well as the volunteers.

It was coming up on sunrise, approximately 36 hours after the mansion fell. Debris began shifting around, seemingly on it's own, until it burst forth from the ground, being upheaved by a massive eight-foot-tall red-scaled dragon wearing a black armor breastplate and cloak. He circled around a few times before landing atop the wreckage, and beginning to shrink in size.

Once the dragon was about seven feet from head to toe, his snout began receeding into a more human-like countenance. At the same time, his tail and wings also receeded, his scales sinking into what eventually became tanned human skin. As he finished transforming at six-feet in height, the figure of Dameon stood triumphantly on the rubble, arching his back to crack it a few times and peering down into the crater he'd made from below.

"We were right," he confirmed, "they've all left. Come on out."

Slowly, Jonas and Ness climbed up from what was once the basement, as Dameon had cleared a path for them to emerge from. There the trio stood, on what was left of Dawson's former home, with barely a scratch on any of them, with the exception of Dameon's slightly torn up clothing underneath his armor.

"That was a rockin' idea, Dameon," Ness laughed. "I didn't even realize that, even without magic as a resource, you could turn into your badass dragon form."

"Nice last minute thinking," Jonas concurred. "At your full size and strength, even I wasn't sure if you could rip that iron-barred gate out."

"I 'ad a feeling I could," Dameon said, nonchalantly. "And I can't believe it took me to tell you two that ducking underneath the staircase was a decent idea. I mean, even without that gate as a barrier, it would 'ave been our best shot."

"So, where does this leave us?" Jonas asked, folding his arms underneath his cloak and looking up at Dameon.

"Well," Dameon replied, "we know now that it was all that bloody Jupiter's doing that got you all 'alf Demon, and got us both used by Magus. But what I don't understand is 'ow he plans to extract that power from you."

"I'd gladly give it back," Jonas mused, "if I could be certain he wouldn't just use it to make himself strong enough to cause a lot of damage. And all things considered, I'm pretty sure he would, and destroy us right off the bat."

"Is this guy really that bad a news?" Ness asked. "I mean, c'mon, you two are like mondo powerful, what with your magic, Jonas; and your combat skills, Dames. How much of a threat could this dude possibly pose to all three of us put together?"

"Don't underestimate 'im," Dameon interjected, "because he's almost wiped the two of us out on a number of occassions over the years when he was pretending to be my brother. If that was 'im with a large portion of 'is energy fused into Jonas, I'd 'ate to think 'ow dangerous he would be at full-capacity."

"But I don't get it," Ness argued in a puzzled tone. "If he was trying to manipulate that Magus dude into using you two to help him get control of the city's underground, why would he try to destroy you?"

"He wasn't," Jonas answered plainly. "My best guess is that he was keeping track of our progress and making sure we were improving our abilities to his liking."

"Let's not worry about this," Dameon said. "Let's just get some bloody sleep and figure this out later. At least now we know the whole story. Our main concern now is waiting to see if Jupiter shows back up to make good on 'is threat to Jonas." And with that, he began walking back toward the main road, bound for home.

Jonas and Ness simply nodded in agreement to his words, both needing some rest and a comfortable bed as well. So they followed behind him in the usual fashion, and looked forward to being able to sleep somewhere other than the confines of the ruined basement they'd been stuck in, and took comfort in the knowledge that this journey for the truth was finally at and end.

((The End))