The lord of Nightmare emerged from the silent Cloister, his passing
shadow barely a whisper through the heavy curtain that hid the
entrance. The Ravenlord cast his fiery gaze across the breadth of the
main hall of the Goth House, taking in the measure of its emptiness.
The floor was thick with dust, and the cobwebs -- lately numerous and
large -- had grown ponderous with time and inattention.

The Ravenlord heard snoring from behind the grand bar. Moving closer,
he noted that the bar was the only structure in the hall that had
managed to elude the pervading neglect evident all around it. He
found the source of the snoring proved to be the burly bartender,
Winter, asleep on a cot behind the shelves, bar rag clenched in his
large hand. Shaking his head slowly, the Ravenlord turned and swept
towards the door leading to the garden. It opened for him, and in his
passing, closed silently behind him.

Outside, a light rain fell in the dark. With deliberate pace, the
Ravenlord wound his way along the path past ivy and topiary, statues
and shrubs, to the circle of thirteen sycamore trees in the center of
the garden. In the burning glow of the Ravenlord's eye, the obsidian
skin of the trees glistened as though sprayed with blood. Bound to
one of the trees by its toes, dangling from a branch, arms lashed
behind its back, was the Scarlet One. Its robe was soaked and
tattered from exposure, butits face held its signature grin -- a grin
that bent like a crescent moon ready to devour the unwary. Its cold,
jade eyes fell on the Ravenlord. The Ravenlord spoke, and his voice
was like an autumn wind.

*We are leaving ...*

The measured, irrefutable delivery of these words wiped the grin from
the Scarlet One's face, replacing it with an expression of both shock
and relief.

"It's over, then?" it whispered.

*It remains as it is ... Unfinished ...* the Ravenlord replied, then
reached into a nook of the tree and pulled forth a staff. It was
tall, and capped with a raven's head made of a substance similar to
the trees. This staff he touched to the tethers that bound the
Scarlet One, and it was released. The Scarlet One hung in the air for
a moment longer, then righting itself, drifted slowly to the ground.
Now, its face held a questioning look of disapproval.

"So, you're quitting?" it asked, incredulous. "You're just letting it
go? Letting him go?"

*No ...* stated the Ravenlord. *I have left Nightmare unattended for
too long ... And the air of this place is stale ...*

The Ravenlord moved to the center of the ring and stood by the small
pond. The Scarlet One followed him. A harbinger's call from the roof
of the House drew their attention.

There perched Berenice -- the Ravenlord's most devout familiar -- atop
the massive, granite head of one of the House's gargoyles. As
Berenice took wing and glided down to the Ravenlord's waiting
shoulder, three more gargoyles joined the first at the ledge. Each of
them in its turn lowered its head, slowly, bowing to the Nightmare
monarch. The Ravenlord nodded to each of them in turn, and said,
*Flow swift, strong and deep ...*

The gargoyles let out a gurgling growl in response, then stalked back
to the duty for which they were charged. The Ravenlord watched them,
and did not move.

The Scarlet One, tapping its foot, broke into the reverie with another
question, "What about Rhiobhan?"

Very slowly, the Ravenlord turned and bent his burning eye upon the
scarlet clad imp. His pale face held no expression. He stared at the
Scarlet One, and was silent. The silence grew palpable until it was
almost a presence. The Scarlet One shifted from one foot to another,
and looked away.

"Right," it said, quietly. "The choice. Forget I asked."

With that, the Ravenlord lifted his gaze to the House once more.
Softly, he intoned,

*"To everything there is a season ..."*

Then, he raised his staff and swung it over his head, thricely,
widdershins. He brought the third swing down into the pond, and a
stroke of lightning exploded into the garden of the Goth House. The
ring of obsidian sycamore trees shattered, splintered, disintegrated
and were no more.

The Ravenlord, and his companions, were gone.


Poe