It was a quiet afternoon in a particular Demon's Dorm. He had a nice fire going in the fireplace, Norris rested lazily on the mantle, tail flicking in sleep as the demoncat purred, wings fluttering and legs kicking as it chased after some other creature in its dreams. Two rust-red eyes watched the cat as it chased it's dream quarry, a soft chuckle issuing from the owner's throat as he reached up and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

He'd been studying for hours, and Aezeloth was starting to feel it. Tossing another book to the bottom of his elegant four-poster bed that would probably fit two or more people easily, he sat up, and sighed, shaking his head. Looking around the room, bookshelves lining the wall from top to bottom, his spiked chain hanging from it's hook over the mantle of his fireplace, his desk in perfect order – he could almost convince himself he was home.

But he knew he wasn't, and he was pretty sure that's what bothered him so much. He missed the smell of brimstone wafting in from the fire planes around their estate. He missed the baying of his father's hell-hounds and the screams of the Nightmares as they ran about the estate. Even bringing Norris and most of the comforts of home with him, it just wasn't the same.

Slumping back down on the bed, he picked up the next book in the pile and started to read its contents. After about two pages he sighed again, rubbing once more at his eyes as they began to tear up. Maybe Norris had the right idea – a nap seemed to be in order. Flinging the book once again at the foot of the bed, he flopped down onto his pillows and closed his eyes. What would one little nap hurt...

…

Aezeloth didn't dream often, and when he did it was usually of home. However, when he started dreaming this time around, he couldn't have been further away. He “awoke” to what appeared to be some sort of arena, but everything shifted and changed when he blinked. Not that, that was unusual in dreams, it just seemed like the very shadows around him were twisting and changing even when he watched them.

Another interesting thing to note, was the arena was full of staircases. Some of them led into the stands and some just wandered off into nothingness. It was very odd, but then, dreams usually were. With a shrug he looked around, seeing if he could find a way out. After what seemed like hours of searching though, he gave up and leaned against one of the stairwells.

“This is Candlejacking annoying...”

The next thing he knew, he was hanging about a foot off the ground, and was looking down into an almost mirror image of himself – if he were made of shadows and looked about ready to kill somebody. The inky hand held him by the collar and had his back pressed roughly into the stone of the stairwell – it should have hurt, but this was a dream, and dreams didn't hurt.

Right?

“By all that is glorious and dark, you are pathetic,” the voice was an exact duplicate of his own, if filled with loathing and contempt, dripping with venom. It actually hurt him – inside, to hear those words from someone who looked just like him. He must be having some sort of breakdown from not being able to figure out some of the potential classes he was looking to take. That must be it. He was angry at himself.

“Look, I get it, I've been dancing around the classes and haven't gone to one yet – I just need time to adjust,” he told his self-contempt. “Just give me a little time!”

The Shadow of him growled and tossed him roughly to the ground. He bounced once or twice before landing in a crumpled heap. Scrambling to his feet, he dusted himself off and watched as the shadow paced nearby, hissing under its breath.

“TIME!” It finnally spun toward him again, arms waving angrily in the air. “THERE IS NO TIME, NOT FOR ME, NOT FOR MY WORLD...” The shadow slumped against the stairs and sighed deeply. “Not for her...” It looked up at Aezeloth, defeated. “I am you, and you are me... As much as I could wish otherwise. I am a fragment of you, created to serve my king and his kingdom. Come... I have much to show you, and no time to do it.”

Zel was hesitant at first, but finally, curiosity got the better of him and he finally moved closer to the shadow that looked just like him. “What do you mean?” he asked the shadow of himself.

“Here,” The shadow said as it grabbed his forearm. “Let me show you,” Leading Zel up the flight of stairs beside them, the young demon followed the shadow, and said nothing until they reached the top of the stairs.

“Interesting,” murmured as he looked out over the Shadow Kingdom that Aezeloth – Justice remembered. “So, who are you?” he asked the fragment, who stared at him.

“It's a long story,” Justice said. “And I will share as much as I can before I must go.”

“Well then,” Zel said, sitting down at the edge of the stairs. “Start talking...”

…

How long the two talked, neither was sure, but near the end the Shadow began to grow impatient and finally it ceased answering his questions. Looking at the young demon he frowned. “Time grows short,” he said watching as the shadow world began to crumble off in the distance. “You will wake soon and I will be just as I was, a memory, a fragment... But real – a part of you.” He looked at the young demon with a smile.

“If you remember nothing else of our encounter, just remember this...” he said softly – almost fatherly. “Live life, do not just stay plastered to your books, seek out those who were your friends here, especially your partner...” he sighed deeply and touched his lips. “For she was quite... special to us...” Watching the demon he began to speak again. “And most of all, hone your combat skills, you have the potential in you to be a great warrior, do not let your pursuit of knowledge blind you to the pursuit of strength. For knowledge is only one kind of power, and you should be master of all.”

With a small sigh he walked over to the boil and placed his hand on his chest. “Find her, Find Amarus-called-Judgment... Do this and you will be happy beyond all measure.”

The boil looked down as the shadow put pressure on his chest. “I don't understa...”

“Now wake up,” the shadow said, pushing the boil off the stairs.

Then he fell...

…

Waking up with a loud gasp, Zel clawed at the blankets for a moment before forcing himself to sit up and rub at his eyes again. He was shaking and he felt sick to his gut. That had been an insane dream. Looking at the books around him, he sighed and pushed them to the floor.

He was going to go see if he could find a quiet place to practice with his chain... Obviously this late night studying was getting to him, and he needed to unwind all this cabin fever...

Yeah... that was it. It had all been just some study stress induced dream.

Just a silly dream...