Horror was glad to leave that mess behind, rolling his shoulders as he gazed up into the azure sky, sighing contentedly.
The spirits, his spirits, were wandering the tents- no longer like lost Souls, but with purpose. They knew where they were going, and knew what they were doing.

He smiled to himself, knowing he had his part in helping the Varden, no matter how small it was.
Subtle uses of magic here and there, to lessen the pain of one human's injury, to make plants grow larger, to calm the often stressed animals in the fields, to ease the high tension in some folks, small things.
Yet the difference made itself clear.

He strode through the camp, a sense of calm filling him despite the anxiety of those surrounding him. He was safe here. There was food, after all- and more to help. He was interested in helping those less fortunate. He would not seek them out, though. They will have to come to him.

He could sense the other monster approaching from behind via several spirits warning him, but decided to let the other be. Why should he care if someone was following if said stalker did nothing more?
The observer would have to say something to be worth a conversation.

Reaching his dark tent, Horror paused. Maybe he was more curious than he'd admit. Why not ask?
"What do you want?"

"..How did you know..?" The other asked, surprised as he stepped out of the shadows he'd been in.
Horror shrugged, not interested in explaining himself.
"Why does it matter? You're the one staring from the shadows."
"I thought you had one working light." The other explained bluntly, gesturing to the right side of his face.

Horror shrugged, not offended. "One of many things that were changed in Ellesméra."
"Right. Elf homeland."
"No, elves originally came from across the sea, just like humans and Urgals."
"Okay."

The strange skeleton studied him, a strange teal gleam flashing across the black marks on his face.
"What were you doing in that leader's tent anyway? You're not exactly the leader of anything."

"What were you doing staring at Nasuada's pavilion while a meeting was taking place?" Horror fired back, slightly suspicious.

"I'm sorry, I just don't trust the Destroyer of AU's or the terror of the Multiverse. Dream's naive, even I know that. And that Abyss can be really easy to trick, seen it myself. I don't trust any of you."

"Then don't." Horror sighed. "I don't care who you trust, just don't let it get in the way of everyone's goal. Got it? Kill Galbatorix first, worry about the Multiverse later." He made to enter his tent again, but Ghost stopped him.

The other spoke again.
"Why would you even care? What I make of it, the conditions this Galbatorix has created are perfect for your kind."

Horror hesitated, turning back around.
"My kind? Now what's that supposed to mean?" He asked, a hint of warning in his tone. Voices, inaudible to the other, started clamoring for his attention.

The stranger's black hood fluffed up, notes of pink flashing among the dark fur. "Murderers. I'm not an idiot, I know you kill. I don't want to have anything to do with it, but I know you and I don't view killing the same way. I don't enjoy it at all."

Horror straightened, taking a step forward.
"You're right; we don't share the same views in killing. But you seem to think I, unlike you, enjoy it. Sure, maybe I get a little satisfaction in some of those shitty things I've killed that don't deserve the title of monster or human. Sure, I kill some when I can't stand the sight of their incredibly unbearable existence. But you make it sound like I consider murder to be some kind of fucked up hobby. News flash: I don't."

He sighed, rubbing the bone between his sockets. "Just because my morals aren't so high and mighty as your pacifism doesn't mean I'm a war dog of some kind. I have my reasons for what I did and still do, and unless you're willing to accept that along with who I am, I suggest you fuck off before one of my more morally disabled friends decide to kill you." He explained coldly, staring at the figures surrounding the stranger menacingly as the other stood far too relaxed given his predicament.

The other merely raised a non-existent eyebrow. "Oh please, I would like to know who would be morally disabled compared to a cannibal."
Horror flinched, knowing what would happen next.

Several spirits riled in fury, gaining substance to be visible as they ringed around the other, Ghost appearing directly in front of him.
"He. Saved. Us."
"Sacrificed himself for us all!" Another cried.
"Gave himself for our lives!"
"Rescued us from our pain to live eternally in him!"

"Please stop." He asked quietly, a good number mellowing out upon his words, though still more cried out fervently, starting to attract attention.

"We have our lives to live in eternal bliss!"
"We suffered to be reborn in his paradise!"
"He is our saviour!"
"We are purified in Him!"
"He's not a god?"  A sane voice asked.
"He is our eternal life in joy!"
"He is the bearer of our lost Souls!"
"We are cleansed of all impurity in Him!"
"Everyone calm down, we've made our point!" Ghost pleaded, looking almost panicked. He shot a look back at the flustered Horror, who hesitantly went over his options.

Then he just tugged the wayward spirits towards himself with a huff. The red mist weaved between the many forms, and they all abruptly fell to silence, most staring at him almost expectantly.
"Stop." He ordered simply, aware that they could feel his displeasure.

"Let us kill this impure filth before he slights you further." A voice spoke. Horror pointed in the direction it came from as the poor skeleton tensed up.
"No. We are not killing anyone. We are not harming others because of their differing opinions, am I understood?"

A withering whine answered him, coupled with a few senses or sounds in reply. He relaxed, waving the spirits to disperse and let him be.
They all drifted apart, fading from others' view or vanishing amidst the tents. Horror sighed, ignoring Ghost as the other decided to remain and watch.

"I'm sorry that happened.. a lot of them are unstable." He explained awkwardly, watching as the other examined his surroundings cautiously, a strange pink hue in his eyelights.
"You can't see them unless they show themselves." Horror added.

Those strange pink tinted eyelights glanced over him and locked on Ghost- who should have been invisible to the common mortal.
"Not unless I look for them on their level." Came the reply.
"We see you."

Then he directly approached Horror, pausing a few feet away and regarding him with an intrigued expression.
Then suddenly, a pink, ghostly figure seemed to detach itself from him. It appeared to be an almost magenta hued version of him, but a spirit.

"So." The new ghost started flatly.
"You gonna start explaining? Or do we have to question a hostile crowd?"

Horror sighed, glancing at Ghost. The insubstantial skeleton regarded him with a mirrored expression.
Then he pulled back the flap to his tent.
"Come in. Let's talk inside, why don't we."

. • ° . • °

Color was sparring with Dance, both grinning at each other at their unique fighting styles, only to pause when he spotted two winged figures nearby.

He barely managed to dodge a kick from the other because of his distraction, parrying with a swift bone attack from the earth. Dance yelped as his leg met unyielding bone, spinning back and preparing for an attack that never came.
He glanced over where the rainbow flame skeleton was staring, blinking in surprise.

Abyss was in the air, wings glimmering as he sparred casually with the god of death himself.
"He knows that one touch can kill him, right?" He asked Color, who shrugged.
"He can escape even physical attacks, I wouldn't put it past him to somehow find a way to survive him too."
"Or maybe it's godliness or something."
"Abyss? You're calling Abyss a god?"

Dance snorted, glancing back at Color. "You haven't seen what I've seen from that little guy."
Color waved at him. "Please, tell me. Pretty sure I've seen weirder."
"You both don't need to argue, because I can tell you for a fact that he's a god." Killer announced his presence behind them.
"Boss confirmed it, Error confirmed it, Reaper up there did too…. The dude's freaking all of them out with it, too. He's a weird little dude."

Dance was about to respond when a flash of light drew his gaze upward once more. Crystals were gleaming in the sky, their ethereal glow directly counteracted by the cold darkness that weaved between them. Then he heard Color speak in a surprisingly gentle tone.
"It's been awhile."

He blinked, noticing a sudden tension between the two.
"Wait.. you know each other?"
Killer shrugged, his face unreadable.
"We did. A long time ago. Things were different- I was different."
He paused then, reaching up to touch his face, as if expecting something to be there.

"Abyss did a few things for me, too. Back when I was all out crazy and hurting and Boss was still… well, not unlike how Galbatorix is now." He peered thoughtfully up at the gods above them.
"Guy also kicked my ass with barely a scratch." He chuckled.

Killer put away his knife with a sigh. "Honestly, I don't think I ever would have been able to get over.. just what I did to.. everyone I knew. I never would have come back from that if Abyss didn't give me a wake up call and emotions again."

"You really were emotionless?" Dance dared ask. Killer shrugged. "Yeah. Wasn't much different from you before my Chara either." His ringed eyelights studied Dance. "You have no idea what that demon put me through, did to me. Even if at first he took everything from me, just by taking me from that place Nightmare showed me a huge mercy."

"Okay, but what led him to turn into.. what he's like now? What the hell happened? I remember he was terrifyingly intelligent and lived for everyone's misery." Color explained.

Killer shrugged again. "That, I'm sure Abyss probably had something to do with too. When he took me back, he was just.. different. It wasn't obvious at first, but it just showed more and more over the years. I think it was.. three years later. Three years later he let me be me again."

He stared off into the distance thoughtfully. "I really don't know. He just started acting less.. excited about everything? He wasn't so much a supervillain attitude as he started just being a grumpy asshole. It was terrifying at first, we never knew when he would threaten us or kill someone right next to us, but then he just started being more and more lenient until he just sort of.. sighed if something broke. Unless he was in a bad mood, then he still kicked out asses, but he didn't leave us practically dying."

He scuffed at the dry earth. "Honestly, part of me is damn happy for him. We're all fucked up, I mean, over the last few years he's been.. kind of like a dad we never had. I mean, you know how it is. You either have a dead dad, one not in your life, or just.. something. And then he was just like the full asshole done with the shit trope." He wiped at his sockets, chuckling.

"I mean, there's a reason me and Cross started called the fucker Dadmare behind his back. The dude would always show up every time we di-heh-hi-id-" He burst into laughter as he pointed across the sparring field behind them.

Lo and behold, Nightmare had arrived, gazing up at the sky at the winged gods flying up above in mild curiosity, branches drifting back and forth peacefully. Killer was holding his sides, already rolling on the floor as a few greyish tears leaked out of his sockets.
Dance couldn't help but snort at the contagious laughter.

The Guardian of Negativity glanced over in their direction, and they both hesitated, Killer paying no heed as he continued to wheeze on the ground, getting dust all over his clothes.
Nightmare just regarded him boredly, then shook his skull, walking away.
Dance broke down and giggled, leaning his hands on his kneecaps. Color just snorted into his hand.

. • ° . • °

"He was talking about me. I know it."
"You did nothing?" Dream asked, baffled.
"Of course I did nothing, I'll find out soon enough what he's doing. Right now, we need to find that Ganz." 
"..Yeah."
"Oh shush, you."
"I said nothing!"
"You were thinking it."
"Maybe."
"Ughhh.."

Then they noticed a particularly displeased spirit watching them, one of Horror's flock. They stared at the Twins in suspicion before slowly approaching.
"The skeleton of the black marks?" They asked the pair.
Nightmare and Dream shared a look with one another.
It seemed like their search might come to an early end.

. • ° . • °

GB was drifting from thermal to thermal, staring at the edge of the world far away in the distance. He was largely bored, having found that nothing interesting happens much to a dragon.

He tilted to the side, banking right as his wingtip pointed to the distant ground below, albeit at a steep angle.
A pang of loneliness filled him, a deep longing to turn north and fly without pause until he could see him again.
And to see his children.
Dragon children.

He was so proud to have kids of his own, so proud that he could have his own thunder of dragons in a world where the kind was awed and respected, not hunted and feared.

He ignored the longing in his bones and angled westward, flapping a few times before he slipped into the next column of rising air. He could see Saphira lazily winging out to the river and diving towards the water, a sparkling comet bluer than the sky on it's clearest day.

He considered joining her, but at the last second he refrained. He preferred to be alone at the moment. Floating in the clouds, free from most worldly cares for a while. Nothing but the chill blue and billowing towers of frozen micro crystals to set the stage of the sky.

He craned his skull upwards to peer at the vast expanse above him. The sky was so endlessly blue, layers upon layers of blue yawning out beyond him, so beautifully cold in it's windy, echoing silence. As he gazed, GB could slowly make out the distant darkness beyond, and the faintest glimmer of stars within it.
He blinked, because he wasn't expecting to be able to see the stars in the daytime.

With newfound intrigue, GB beat his wings in ascension, wanting to be closer to the stars he had been deprived of nearly all his life.
From the depths of the earth to the peaks of the heavens. He briefly thought, daring to smile.

As he spiralled higher and higher, GB also fell deeper in thought. He glanced at his shiny, glittering wings, imagining each facet of sparkling magic as a star.
His bones shone almost porcelain white in his glaring closeness to the sun, still containing their faint grey, earthen hue.
I am the earth and sky. He told himself philosophically, smiling in spite of the biting cold.

The air up here was thin, so unbelievably thin. It was hard for even him to breathe, and so cold a slight frost was creeping up on his extremities. It stung, but was no deterrent.
By now, he was Determined to see just how high he could go.

He lit the light energy in his jaws, choosing not to pinpoint it but rather let it flow without any specific orientation. The result was a surprise, it turned into a bluish white light that practically burst in all directions, leaving painfully hot swathes of bluish white flame blazing from his maw.

So I can breathe fire. He concluded, a little giddy as the intense flames superheated the air around him and created a personal thermal and bubble of air, sending him shooting upwards.

GB finally reached a point where there wasn't enough air to breathe at all, choosing instead to hold it, looking up in excitement as the sky around him started turning dark, below showing little else other than miles and miles of distant land and pale blue skies full of gleaming clouds.

An odd euphoria filled him as he gazed up at the now easily visible and multicolored stars amid the deep, almost black midnight blue. A part of him was alarmed, screeching in the danger, but the rest of him was enthralled by the thrill of the majestic heavens. His Soul pounded in excitement, yearning to go higher.

In his euphoric ascension, GB glanced back down at the small world below.

It was so, so tiny. So miniscule. Insignificant. It paled in comparison to the glorious frozen stars above.
It was so bright and pale, yet as he watched, the world below him seemed to grow dimmer. GB blinked slowly, feeling a distant confusion.

Then something wrenched into his mind with a scream, abruptly flooding his consciousness with a flood of voices and noise, excruciating amid the deafening silence.
Descend! Descend to land! Now!

He shook his skull wildly, the intensity of the noise forcing him to curl up in himself, wings shuddering as their tips cracked with ice, the sheet sloughing off as it fell apart.

No longer in flight, GB shivered as he became aware of how cold he was, gasping for air that wasn't there and dropping from his height.

He was falling, that he knew, but he couldn't tell how fast. There was so little air around him, there was only a faint breeze flowing around him, and the world felt so far away it felt like he was frozen there- both literally and figuratively.

GB coughed weakly on what little air was there, feeling something akin to water touch his spine and begin to spread over his bones. He couldn't tell how warm or cold it was, because the cold was so extreme it felt like stinging pins and needles all over.

Maybe the sensation was a hallucination. He was too cold to try looking.
Instead, GB tried focusing on the horizon.
What he saw surprised him.

He had flown so high up he could see the curvature of the planet.
It was slight, but he could see the round edge. He blinked a few times, staring at the rim of the world. This was a lucky sight that no one had been granted the fortune of experience in Alagaësia. He wanted to cement the view in memory.

GB smiled to himself. He was proud of his achievement. He'd flown to the edge of sky and space and glimpsed the planet from outside- and was the first in Alagaësia to do so.
Hopefully.

Could Riders achieve the same feat with magic?
He assumed not, for the sake of the moment.
He'd done this with only his wings and heat, after all. He was still the first to do it without magic, if anything.

The wind was howling at this point, screeching as it whipped through his bones and tugged at him. By now, the world was definitely closer now, and the sensation of something sticky was definitely there on his spine and shoulder blades.

GB tried to glance back, but the wind wrenched at his skull, forcing him to face the ground again if he didn't want it to turn around 180 degrees. The air rushing past was getting hot, it seemed.
Or was that himself heating up?
Was he going to become a meteor if he didn't slow down?
A terrifying thought.

GB cautiously spread his wings a little, flinching as the wind immediately accosted them, cooling off rapidly. He angled himself so that they didn't quite catch air but rather let him slide downward in a lazy spiral. Frost started to continually layer over his wings at this height, weighing him down and turning the thin membrane stiff.

Huffing in frustration at the growing weight, GB fired off a short blast ahead of himself, hoping it would soften the ice enough to break it off.
The blinding light flashed, white-hot as it washed over him and vaporized the ice sheet into a superheated mist that blew past him instantly.

He gasped at the pure heat of it on his bones, sockets wide as the burning energy blazed from his jaws like a banner, stretching out several yards past his tail as it curled in the recesses between his bones and burned without fuel. It was so hot, stabbing into him with it's feverish brilliance.

The ground almost seemed to be slowly expanding with how quickly he was dropping closer. He noticed the encampment of the Varden below, able to make out the tents. A flash of concern flickered through him, thinking about the superheated energy and flames around him and considering the possibility of setting the army ablaze.

He glanced northward at the Jiet thoughtfully, then fluttered as he angled himself toward the river, away from the camp. GB could see a flash of reflected blue as Saphira winged over, seeing the speeding comet of blue-white shooting by.

As the ground rushed closer, GB spread his wings out further, angling them more and more horizontally to slowly pull out of his violent dive without literally tearing the limbs from their sockets.

He inevitably succeeded, now zooming just above the river at lethal speed. He was just feet away from the water, suddenly having an idea.
He carefully dipped even lower, tentatively reaching out to brush a phalange in the water, flinching at how hard it tugged at it.

GB took a deep breath and tried again, enduring as it yanked on his talon, noting as it turned into mist- oh he was still burning.

He sighed, dipping his talon into the river and letting it act as a brake, wobbling as it threatened to flip him over with his speed and it's friction.
When he was reasonably slow, GB dared to submerge, sending up enormous waves and swirling mists as he flipped and rolled in the water.

He resurfaced with a spluttering gasp, shaking his skull wildly to get the water out of his sockets and nasal cavity. He was still dizzy when Saphira landed on the nearest shore, staring curiously.
What happened?

GB blinked a few times before paddling over. I might have flown a bit too high.
The dragon snorted, getting comfortable on the riverside.
Is it really so difficult to pull out of a dive?
Yes! My wings were almost torn off! It still hurts; I flew so high I iced up.
You let ice form on you?
I zoned out, I didn't notice until I was practically immobile. The stars were just too mesmerizing.
You saw the stars in daylight?
I did! I was surprised too when I realized I could see them. They look so.. otherworldly up close.

He glanced back up for a moment, looking to spot the faint specks of light beyond the blue haze. He couldn't see them.
GB sighed in disappointment, shaking his skull. I can't anymore. They're probably only visible up high.

Perhaps. Saphira agreed, watching impassively as he clambered onto the ground out of the water, still steaming.
If you were so cold, how did you thaw yourself? She asked while sniffing the edge of his right wing.
I found out I can kinda technically breathe fire like you. GB smirked slightly before shaking himself. It's too hot for me, though.

Saphira arched her neck, huffing smoke as a flash of irritation appeared in her eyes.
Too hot? How is it so?
GB hid his amusement at her jealousy as he replied honestly.
I think I just put more energy into it than I should, though I don't know how to put any less in it, if that makes any sense.

The dragon turned a little, grooming her face as she requested he demonstrate it with an impression rather than words.
Here he finally snorted, facing away from her as he ignited the beam without focusing it in any particular direction.

Saphira blinked as the white-hot blue-tinted flames exploded out of his maw from the initial burst of explosive energy. It shone so bright it bleached the area around them and cast stark shadows were both the light of the sun and the flames were blocked. Her own bluish, yellow and pale orange flames were rather disappointing by comparison in terms of brightness.

GB smiled at her blank expression, paused mid-lick on her talon as she took in his flame. Then the smell of the burning trees caught his attention and he sighed, using blue magic to dump a portion of the river over the small wildfire, filling the air with the sound of sizzling as it evaporated.

He studied the scorched area in case something flared up, enjoying a sense of pride at his ability to spew flame like a true dragon- albeit in a more roundabout fashion.
Then suddenly, Saphira pounced on him, slamming him into the ground.

Hey! He yelped in surprise, thrashing as her weight pressed his ribs into the dirt.
It moved. Did you not notice this on you? She stated almost flatly.
What? GB questioned, bewildered and hurt as her claws dug into his ribs and spine. Saphira, you're hurting me.

She snapped at him with a slight growl as he tried to look at what she saw.
Hold still! I need to peel it off, you cannot reach it. She bent over, her jaws clamping shut over something that squelched.
"What the fuck-" GB spluttered at the sound, horrified that there was something on him that he had failed to notice. He struggled to crane his skull around to see what the heck the thing was, but a thick blue tail slammed him back down.

He huffed, hurt, but going limp. He wasn't about to fight his friend, a full blooded dragon.
Until he heard it cry out in Wingdings.
Saphira, wait, I think it said-

A scream interrupted them then, dragon lurching as whatever it was darted off, making an unsettling squishy sound as it scuttled away in the burnt grass. Saphira let him up then, still crouching as she stared almost hungrily into the trees.

What was it? He asked, following her gaze with a shudder.
A creature. Saphira answered simply. GB shot her an unimpressed look, huffing.
Obviously. I mean what did it look like?

Her nostrils dilated before she replied. It would be easier to show you, if you insist.
Show me. He insisted without hesitation. She snorted, and an image came to his mind.

Something black, so utterly black it was almost like it absorbed light, except for the faint, nearly unnoticeable sheen on the side. It was like a thick goop, spread over his spine and backside of his ribs, two.. vague appendages seemingly clinging to his shoulder blades weakly as a faint solid, white head looked over with two very apparent cracks- that was a skull.

GB froze.
You're joking.
Saphira finally glared at him. I do not jest; that is what it looked like.
He blinked at her, frowning. Then he got up and took a few steps out into the blackened grass, looking for- there it was. A spot of white peering around a tree trunk that darted back behind it.
He hesitated, then sat down.
"Dr Gaster?"

The cracked face peered around the edge of the tree trunk again, sockets wide with disbelief.
"Who..?"