Somewhere in the space between dimensions, within the veil that conceals and transcends worlds and time, someone was laughing hysterically.  This laughter lasted for aeons, or for a whisper of thought, for it is much the same to those within and out of the bounds of what is considered -- in many places -- existence.  Then laughter subsided ...

 

A breath was drawn, and a light voice was heard by those who could listen.  Between gasps, it asked this:

 

"El Ravenlordo?!?"

 

And the laughter burst again, even more uncontrolled and riotous than before.

 

After what seemed another age -- or, a hiccup -- the laughter slowed.  The voice that projected the erstwhile laughter panted, still chuckling.

 

"Oh ... Oh my ... I think I hurt something."  It continued to snicker awhile, but eventually regained control of itself -- save for a few sincere snickers, now and then.

 

"I'm glad to see that Rennyb fellow back again, " the musical voce intoned.  "He's a card.  He'll keep you on your toes, that one.  Don't you agree?"

 

Silence ...

 

"I said, don't you agree?"

 

The silence became much more quiet, with a hint of brooding ...

 

The possessor of the musical voice let out a sigh, "Why do I get the feeling I am being ignored?"

 

The silence acquired a deep, Autumnal, hissing resonance, and replied ... *You should trust your feelings ... *

 

The musical voice said, in a tone that implied a shaking head, "You've got it bad."

 

*I see no bad in this ... *

 

"Leave the sight to me.  You're the one who said the big ell-word.  You set this in motion.  You know the consequences."  The musical voiced paused for a beat, then ranted, "Does she realize what has begun, what her 'Let's rip the fabric of the cosmos' dance has done?  'Begun' isn't even the correct word for this ... this ... "  The musical voice let out an atonal grunt.  After a space, it whispered. "Is it worth it?  Is she worth it?  All that will change in her?  In you?  She has many gifts, yes.  She has a power, indeed.  But, are you certain that she will be the one?"

 

*That is left to be ...* the voice of hollow wind returned.

 

It let itself drift in the space between time and being, watching Rhio enjoy the warmth of her Irish Coffee ... the warmth of good company.

 

At that moment-that-was-and-is-not, the brooding presence brushed her hair with a hand that is and might not have been.  It whispered, with the sound of secrets ...

 

*"To be ... or not to be?" ... *

 

All Rhio felt was a cold breeze behind her ...

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Meanwhile ... In a time past ...

 

The rider approached the makeshift wall of the village.  Jennifer and the blacksmith watched as he reined his grey horse to a halt in front of gate and guardsman.

 

The rider tipped his hat and said to the young man in a quiet, rough voice, "Mornin'.  I need to see yer chief.  He'll be at the center a' town today."

 

The guard replied, with forced bravado, "What is your business with him?"

 

The rider pushed back his black hat and withered the guard with his cold gaze.  "I don't want him to die when Hell breaks loose, boy.  And it's goin' to, today.  If I can't destroy the Raving Lord, then you, yer chief and the whole damn world are goin' to wish Death'l hear you over the screams."

 

 

Poe