Father did not know how to deal with any child,

Yet each year that passed, he seemed to understand more.

And each year that passed, my thoughts grew far less tame, wild.

Magic hadn't woke, still wouldn't open that door,

Some days I thought I could, but it felt like a loss...

Father encouraged me to reach my potential,

But would I still be the same once I went across?

I felt as if I would lose something essential...

“Would you like to go on an adventure, Asterion?” my father asked me, a spark of something playful in his own red gaze.

Even some of his Spawn were hesitant sometimes in the face of my father, but I knew by now that I had no need to fear him ever hurting me. I do not know if Oneiros loved me, but he certainly cared, in his own way. I thought that was enough.

Still, I knew better than to agree to a complete unknown. “What kind of adventure?” I asked in return, a faint smile playing at my features.

“The cavern of challenges,” Oneiros stated, gaze bright and intent. 

I hesitated. The last time I was there, I’d been much younger. Father had been with me. But not just him. My first two friends.

Tiresias and I had grown apart. Since the incident that had caused such distance, I had locked my magic deep within myself. Father said it was bad for my growth to do so, but also that he would let it be my choice if he could.

Mel’ and I had never grown apart. I still cherished Mel’ and I’s bond. Blood ties or no blood ties, they would have been my sibling through our souls. We had met at our most vulnerable, and so we trusted each other with our most vulnerable selves, even as we had started to become more.

“Why there?” I asked, my own red gaze thoughtful but not dismissing the possibility.

“Why not? Ah, no need for that look, Asterion. I am up to no mischief beyond my usual today, if that sets you more at ease. I’ll even act the mortal, if it will make you feel better,” Oneiros replied. 

He paused for a moment. “I used to go to the challenges along with the parent of the other half of your blood, you know. You share some of their looks. …Mantis is their name. They are mortalborne, but the dungeon claimed them for itself, so they are no mere mortal.”

His own gaze grew distant, thoughtful. “Mortals often spout words about compassion, but I have never met a mortal or a mortalborne as compassionate as Mantis before or since.”

I was quiet. I had never heard of Mantis. Auseklenis I had never met, only ever glanced at briefly before, for Oneiros kept us apart. That was not to say I heard nothing of the warlock, though, because I knew enough to know they were no parent of anyone, let alone myself or Mel’. 

“Okay, we can go,” I agreed. It had seemed to me that Oneiros wanted to reminisce more than anything else, anyway. Reminiscing seemed unlikely to hurt anyone.

Again, my father’s eyes were brighter than mine, lit with the hellish glow of delight only he had, then they dulled to a somewhat more mortal coloration.

Two friends since childhood met an odd pair, yes indeed,

Father and child, yet they looked almost of an age.

But the two friends did not question, for they had need

Of adventurers for this challenge they would wage...

Redwood and Hawthorne merely shared a confused look.

If they had known the truth of those two's nature, well...

Perhaps they would have had a different outlook,

Had they known their origin rightly would be Hell.

The group encountered an odd statue, odd to three...

Asterion glanced towards their father, question

On the edge of tip of their tongue, so clear to see.

When suddenly a plume of flame with aggression

Came surging from the mouth that was agape with scream

They tried their best to dodge, some with far greater ease,

So all four, they made to avoid this fiery stream

...But Asterion had a now building unease...