A formless shadow rose from the ground between the young man and his doppelganger. The form turned a deep crimson before bursting into light before the young mage. Rehtul shielded his eyes for a moment before dropping his arm and looking at what the so-called "drastic measure" that was to be taken by his captor was to be.

Before him, in all his blood red splendor, was the version of Orlouge who had committed the atrocities shown in the visions the spirit had shared with the young man. The creature looked confused for a moment, then beheld his younger self.

"What's this? Some kind of illusion set up by father, perhaps? Does he seek to show me the person I used to be in order to get me to give up my goal?" the being mused aloud without so much as considering that he was in a reality other than his own at the present moment.

"Here he is, fresh from a hand full of murders, still stained with their blood. The man you will soon become," Glacies said with a note of amusement in his voice.

"This makes more sense, actually," the older Rehtul said before turning around. "Trying to stop me earlier than you did last time, spirit? You'll fail just as surely this time as you did in my timeline. There is no reality I will allow to exist where Ciato does not earn his just reward, a death at my hands."

He turned toward his younger self, still sitting on the floor and said, "Perhaps you feel differently, but that will change with time."

"I don't think so," Rehtul said as he stood up and faced himself. The older man looked him in the eye, but did not seem to truly see him.

"What, you think you can beat me? I've been practicing for years in the Citadel. I've fought opponents far tougher than anyone you've faced in your entire life. Don't think you can-"

"Stop you? I've no such illusions. However..." Rehtul said as a small blade of ice was dragged across the neck of his counterpart.

The older man gasped for air as the younger man stepped forward. A point of ice appeared over Rehtul's hand and he shoved it into his older self's chest, straight through the heart.

"Have you forgotten subtlety altogether? You don't have to go on a rampage to get what you want. Revenge is best served cold, after all." He noticed the pun a few seconds after it left his lips and he sighed. Too late now, the being before him was dead. He dropped the body of the beast he was meant to become and smiled somewhat sadistically at the thud sound it made as its head bounced off the ground.

"Well... that was disappointing," the spirit said with a frown.

"You were expecting some kind of knock down drag out brawl or something?" Rehtul asked, finally the one in control for once.

"I was expecting more than that, at least," the spirit said, a noticeable whine in its tone.

"I was an assassin at one point in my career, you know. I simply took advantage of my own penchant for being longwinded and drew the knife before he had even fully materialized."

"Well that's... interesting," the spirit said, defeated. Another low rumbling shake filled the dreamworld once more, before a loud crack sounded through the entire world.

Rehtul jerked and shot straight up in bed.

"What the hell was that?!" he asked the darkness of his room.


-----

Somewhere, thousands of miles away, further north than even the furthest reaches of civilization in Salvar, a pair of emerald green eyes illuminated a darkened tomb. The spirit had been too late.