Lightning arced across the sky in long sheets as it illuminated the dark clouds that blanketed the atmosphere in their deep, sullen gray. The low roll of thunder echoed and reverberated through the Gotham streets, seemingly amplified as it passed through the many narrow alleyways of the city, but just as swiftly silenced by the passing of time. Rain fell,creating vast streams in the gutters of the several buildings of the township, be they worn apartments or businesses, and made large ever flowing puddles to contrast against whatever portion of pavement floor it was ultimately allowed to rest upon. Yet, even the rain couldn’t drown out the smells of gas and refuse that spread throughout the city, almost naturally so. This, especially, could be said of the scent of the west side docks, which somehow held its own individuality among this scent. A greater intensity, or perhaps a higher tension behind.

The dark grey sedan's headlights were shut off, almost instinctively, as it rounded the corner of the warehouse. As the car rolled to a stop, the one at the wheel of the vehicle, Faust, turned off the engine, removing what little noise the radio and engine had provided him in an attempt to tune out the constant rain and thunder that roared around him. With a breath, he grabbed the handle of the door before pushing it open. The sound of the rain hitting the ground filled the inside of the car, just as well as it had the outside, and drowned out the dark words he spoke. His intent and the effects, however, were unmistakable.

The bubble formed as Faust stepped out of the car, blocking the rain, seeming as it had simply been moving it aside from the point of view of any other. For what a normal person would use an umbrella for, Faust simply uttered a phrase. A simplistic phrase, at that. Besides, an umbrella would have been impossible to hold, considering his current situation. Making his way around to the back of the car, not even bothering to close the door of the car as he did so, Faust moved about the keys he held for the vehicle, looking at the locked trunk that, truthfully, he had been staring back at through his rear view mirror since this all begun. Using the keys, he inserted them into the lock on the trunk, giving it one swift twist before, with a satisfying click — though it was heavily muffled by the sound of the elements around him — he unlocked it. As he then proceeded to open the trunk of the car, now exposing it to the elements, he looked down at his prize. The little girl that laid there, unmoving as a result of her binds, and now currently being soaked to the bone by the rain, was perfect. The age was correct for the spell; she was young enough to be pure, but old enough to have energy about her.

Reaching down with both of his hands he scooped up the little eight year-old, allowing her to escape the rain as she was slowly enveloped by the bubble that surrounded him. Of course, this proved to be very little solace for her sake. Her hands and feet were, of course, tightly bound, so walking was very much impossible; her mouth was covered with a piece of thick tape to prevent her from screaming, though she certainly did try to. Nonetheless, this was Gotham, so tape or otherwise, screams would often go unnoticed, unanswered. His prize in his grip, he turned, walking into the nearby warehouse. It seemed like a stereotypical place to meet, dark, brooding, remote, but those words could also be used to describe most of Gotham. Really though, there was nothing about this meeting that would be typical.

The warehouse was chosen because of its location. Not necessarily its location in the city, for there were better locations, more secluded or better places to escape from if needed. Not because of its size; it was average for the docks, and rather mundane. It, however, had something no other building had in the area. Under the building was a convergence of ley lines forming a node, or to put it simply, a weak spot in the fabric of reality. It was this that the building was chosen for. It was for that reason that Faust was there.

Walking inside, the building had already been prepared. A stone altar sat slightly off the center of the central storage area. Constructed from granite and carved in ancient times, the altar had been brought here from Greece. Faust could only vaguely recall the trouble it was to bring it here in the first place, but such memories were not truly of importance. The stone sat in the middle of several circles on the floor, each drawn and enchanted with care, mystic runes tracing the lines to form a massive circle of power. It had to be massive for the amount of power that would be used.

Around the circle candles made from a rather special wax marked the focal points of the coming spell. It had taken months to acquire the materials for them. The reagents came from around the world with many of their names not heard since dark times — only people like Faust old enough to remember — old enough to know the power they held.

This however was not Faust’s spell. He had no intention of staying through its completion, its outcome mattered not to him. He was merely the middle man here. He had a chance to trade for what he wanted and he took it. What he sought wasn’t attainable by some simple spell. That is, if anything Morgaine la Fey did was ever to be considered simple.

“She will do just fine,” Morgaine said as she stepped out of the shadows, himself barely having walked a few feet inside of the building when her voice rang through. The sound of raspy breathing filled the air from behind her. It emanated from the decrepit form of an ancient body sitting in a wheelchair, one who had seen centuries pass by. She looked to him, a smile on her face, before speaking once more. “It will soon be over my son. You shall have your youth back.”

“And you have the stone?” Faust spoke with calm determination interrupting whatever moment Morgaine may or may not have been having with her son. Before him laid the girl on the ancient altar; he was growing rather irritated from having to carry her, after all. Her body squirmed a bit against the bonds but there was no escape for her. A flash of lightning shone through the dusty and murky windows of the warehouse, illuminating her tear streaked face.

Morgaine, now looking back to Faust, simply held out her hand, an ancient stone appearing floating slightly above it. Encased in a magical aura it slowly rotated, allowing Faust a clear view of his prize. “A fragment of the Key of Hades. In trade for the girl… and the gem, of course.”

Faust smiled and pulled out the amulet he held with him. It was old magic. Older than him — older than even Morgaine even — and a remnant from the time gods walked amongst men. It had been set inside a gold amulet, nothing but what was comparatively cheap metal encasing something far more valuable. It had taken him a while to find the Eye of Ra. For the key to the underworld however, it was a fair trade.

Turning, Faust smiled at the tied up girl. He hadn’t even bothered to learn her name when he took her. What was the point, she was nothing but a sacrifice. Her death would serve Morgaine’s needs, just like her kidnapping served his. Laying the Eye on the altar, he smiled and carefully took the keystone out of the air.

“Well bargained and done.” He then spoke simply, nodding his head slightly as he stared fixedly at his new prize.

“Just a little more time Mordred," Morgaine then uttered, returning her gaze to the decrepit one behind her, "there is only one way to restore your youth, after all. It will take the life force of a unicorn.” Bending herself slightly, Morgaine wiped the drool from the ancient man’s face, not so much as flinching in the process. She had cared for him for much too long to be bothered by this such a thing at this point, after all.

It was then that Faust gave out a chuckle.

“Yes, good luck with that. There are none left in this dimension. That however is your problem now,” Faust spoke with a smirk before, satisfied, he began to walk to his car once more. He hardly paid attention to the dark shadow that crossed above him. He knew it was there but it mattered not. Such things were beneath him. It would be Morgaine’s problem, not his.

Looking down at the girl, Morgaine drew an engraved kris style dagger from its sheath which had been laid carefully against the side of the stone the girl was laid upon.

“There may not be any unicorns in this dimension now," she noted as she looked over the sharpened tool in her hand, "but in truth all I need is the essence of one.” Tracing the tip of the kris along the girl’s cheek she looked down. “You shall be the conduit for its essence, and once sacrificed, my son shall be restored.”

The girl closed her eyes tight in fear, her heart racing, but her breathing restricted by the tape. She wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but no one knew where she was. She had been taken from her bedroom by Faust so her parents wouldn’t even realize she was gone till morning. All she had was her Celestia ‘Pretty Pretty Pegasus’ figurine that she was still clutching in her hands. She wasn't sure why she had grabbed it. The mentality of a child, perhaps?

Was it natural then? To grab hold of and take with you whatever you found most comforting in a dire situation, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant? It mattered not, truly.

‘Celestia, please save me, protect me. I don’t wanna die,' she said to herself through her own mind, once more attempting to take solace in this small toy figurine she held, as any child would in such a time. As she did this, the sorceress began her spell. The girl could hear the words but to her they made no sense. They were in some strange language long since changed or forgotten by mere mortals.

Holding the Eye of Ra high above the girl's head, Morgaine la Fey called on the ancient energies. The circle of power at her feet glowed bright green as golden light shone from the gem. As she chanted, the energies flowed inwards towards the girl, wrapping around her in an ethereal dance, as though they were living tendrils encircling their prey. The time was at hand for the sacrifice and Morgaine knew this, raising the kris high above her head as she yelled, “By the ancient ways return the youth that Morgaine has lost!”

With finality to her spell, she drove the kris down, though without giving any sort of notice to the shadowed figure that stood behind her.

Holding his hands wide, the Demon Etrigan unleashed balefire into the sorceress’ side. Caught off guard, the blast then sent Morgaine skidding
across the room, her dagger falling and embedding itself, as if deemed by fate itself, into the Eye of Ra.

Angered by the demon's presence, and what had transpired, Morgaine rose to her feet, holding a hand up as she created a shield in front of her, just as another torrent of flames threatened to capture her within their harsh embrace.

“You have no place here Etrigan. This does not concern you.” Slowly walking forward, the sorceress drove the flames back with what seemed like relative ease. “This is about restoring my son.”

The demon before her gave out a laugh, no so much as giving out a moment of time for the sorceress to react as he continued to send his flames upon her.

“But at the cost of another’s life?” Etrigan chortled, “Only you would see that as a fair trade.”

Pressing forward, he intensified the balefire against her shield, enveloping the flames completely around the sorceress as he then gave out a loud snarl.

Throughout this, the energy from the Eye of Ra, contained in the circle of power, continued to be guided, though with less focused strength behind it. It followed the path of the unicorn essence flowing into the girl, shortly after seamlessly joining with it. The energies wrapped around the child and filled her being. Trembling, the child clutched the Celestia doll for all it was worth, it being all she had now, all she could focus on.

Not to be bested, Morgaine’s shield exploded outwards, the force of this such action sending Etrigan sliding backwards. Reaching out with her magic she then grabbed the demon and threw him backwards into the wall opposite of her with a loud slam.

“You shall not interfere in this matter, demon,” she claimed as she began to walk towards the trapped being, holding him tightly in her magical grasp. “You were foolish to challenge me here.”

Despite his state, however, Etrigan smiled at the sorceress, before beginning to laugh yet again; a deep demonic laugh, filling the warehouse in its entirety, its darkness spreading as the sorceress could not understand the source of the demons mirth.

Looking square at Morgaine, Etrigan shook his head.

"You thought I would challenge you alone?” Before the sorceress could so much as raise a brow at this, however, a pair of bat shaped boomerangs imbedded themselves into the ground on either side of Morgaine with a notable cling. A single red light flashed from both of them and blinked repeatedly in the dim light of the warehouse. Looking down Morgaine realized her mistake, having been focused too much on Etrigan and not checking for others.

The child, in the meanwhile, had begun to shift in her form upon the altar, the power flowing into her was far more than any human should be able to handle. Her hands and feet slowly became hooves. Her mouth and nose lengthened into a muzzle as the power coursed through the little girl’s body. All over her, the energy responded by growing into white hair, giving her a snowy appearance. The restraints around her were enchanted in preparation for this, though, keeping her limbs together as they changed and reformed into that of an equine's.

The ultrasonic pulse that came from the projectiles that had landed near Morgaine was deafening, radiating and reverberating between the pair of emitters on either side of the sorceress. Clasping her hands over her ears, she shrieked, causing a lapse in her concentration that allowed the Demon Etrigan freedom once more.

Lashing out again with balefire, he drove the sorceress to her knees, pushing out an even more intense cry of agony from her, as she was made to experience an onslaught of two different fronts. Not one to be beaten so easily, however, the sorceress gave out one short phrase before she suddenly disappeared from the direction of the attacks, reappearing beside the child once more.

Spreading her arms wide, she let out a pulse of pure white light that filled every part of the room. There were no shadows to hide in. No place was safe from this blast of light.

Closing their eyes, the Dark Knight, who had been hidden in said darkness, and Etrigan were forced to look away from the sorceress. Etrigan then proceeded to brace himself for whatever oncoming attack may be pointed his way. Even without seeing it, he knew Morgaine’s style far too well, so when the force wave actually did make contact with him, driving him back into the wall again, he was not taken by surprise or caught off guard.

The girl, by now, had formed a mane and tail which were charged with pure magic, a veritable rainbow of colors cascading around her. As the Eye of Ra pulsed, she could feel her hips burn. It wasn’t just her hips though. No, she realized soon after that her mind burned as well. She could feel the sun even though it was night out, the raw power of it, the energy from it. She could feel the connection that the Eye of Ra had made with it. To make this connection all the more apparent, the image of the sun appeared on newly formed flanks as well.

The Dark Knight fell backwards off the crossbeam in the roof, shaking his head as he recovered from his dazed state before throwing several gas canisters towards Morgaine. With a rather simple maneuver, at least to him, he shifted his weight so as to right himself as he fell, landing in a crouched position on the ground, only to be driven back against the wall by Morgaine’s magic. However, the canisters that he had thrown exploded, filling the air with small puffs of light. This caused the sorceress to look away again, if only for a moment.

Looking back, she found herself gazing at the altar, and more specifically, the unicorn lying upon. The spell had gone further than expected, but it was still no loss. A smile slowly grew upon her face as she realized that all she had to do was kill the unicorn and she would return the youth to her son. The child’s form did not matter now. Reaching out her hand, the kris, which she had previously dropped as a result of Etrigan's attack, flew to her grasp as she made her way swiftly to the former child. Barely even an inch away from using the kris to finish what she had begun, Morgaine suddenly was given a swift realization of precisely why Unicorn blood was considered such a powerful ingredient in terms of magic.

The child, having had the tape from before fall off with the shifting of her facial features, seemed to suddenly gain her voice, and much more loudly than any had expected.

“Enough!” She cried out, suddenly seeming to sprout wings through the magic that still enveloped her and, with what seemed like the slightest of effort, she spread them outwards. Her voice held the volume and force of a jet engine, powerful and abrupt enough to drive Morgaine back yet again. The horn upon the child's head glowed with the power of the Earth’s star itself as she then looked at the sorceress, tears still matting her face, though clearly much more difficult to see as a result of the fur coat over her form.

Morgaine la Fey simply looked between Etrigan, the child — whom had suddenly begun to somehow use the magic of the Eye of Ra against her, in her unstable state — and the Dark Knight. Her odds of success were greatly diminished at this time, yet she still knew, she could complete her goal at any time. There was now a unicorn on Earth. No. Actually, an alicorn. A being much more powerful. Much more rare. Much more perfect. One she could sacrifice for her son.

“Fine," she said simply, with a slight chuckle accompanying her words, "I shall give you a stay at this time. This, however is not over.”

Stepping back to her son, Morgaine simply vanished in a magical haze. Her son, as well as his chair vanished at the same time, leaving the room throbbing with energy. The light from the former child's horn was painfully bright, however, and the amount of energy the girl drew created a static that every mage and magical sensitive creature for miles could sense.

Shielding his eyes with a hand, as he was at last released from the magical energy that held him, what with the sorceress disappearing, Etrigan looked to the Dark Knight.

“Well, this is different. So, what’s the plan? Drop the brat back off with her parents?”

“Dim the lights,” Batman growled holding his cloak to shield his face from the light. Etrigan barely withheld a roll of his eyes at this simple yet gruff response, before looking towards the being upon the altar.

“Oh yes, if you would be so kind, SHUT that light off!” Etrigan snarled at the mare.

Speaking again with all the subtlety of an airliner’s turbofan engine, the girl said. “I don’t know how!”

The girl’s voice was deafening and the force it brought up once more was nearly enough to lift Etrigan off the ground. A prospect which he found to be truly irritating, what with the amount of times the sorceress had done so to him not moments ago. Yet even with the volume, Batman could hear the fear in her voice. Her eyes were wide and darting around the room trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Etrigan, it’s still a child,” Batman sad as he knelt down, taking cover behind his cloak. He had no way of knowing for sure, but he imagined that the solar radiation she was putting out was actually nearing deadly levels to those without protection. This could be seen clearly by the fact that the floor seemed to quickly grow in temperature, the paint in the walls swiftly began to peel, and whatever remnants of wax from the candles, placed around the altar, melted shortly before beginning to boil.

“Oh I’m so sorry. Should I ask if she needs her diaper changed? She has magical powers, she needs to control it herself!” looking back at the mare he huffed, “Concentrate on your magic, your power, don’t let it control you. Force it down.”

Closing her eyes, the girl concentrated as much as she could. Within a few moments, she had lowered the brightness down to a dim glow, though even then it was a struggle to keep that way.

Panting a bit, she then proceeded to look back at the two before speaking once again.

“Is that better?” while the radiation levels did, in fact, drop, her voice volume was still a problem. She was obviously in terror as she looked from side to side trying to comprehend what her eyes were telling her. Her brain, though, did not want to accept, nor adapt, to the wider field of vision she suddenly held, let alone the magic at her control.

“What’s going on? What’s happening? Why is this…” the child turned mare was starting to panic as the fear rose in her again. She spoke, looking around scared and unsure why she was even here. Her voice shattered the glass causing fragments to rain down. As she got more and more scared, the glow on her horn built up again.

Batman stood up and quickly drew an injector from his belt. In what seemed like seconds, he hastily made his way to the side of the mare, placing the tool against her neck before injecting her with a large dose of tranquilizers in one swift movement. The mare's glow grew, only momentarily, in response to this sudden action, causing the Dark Knight once again to withdraw behind his cloak, but within moments died down as the mare then went quiet, laying down asleep.

“Well why didn’t you do that to begin with?” Etrigan interjected as he made his way to Batman's side, brushing off whatever dust may have made its way onto his arms and shoulders during the conflict as he did so.

“I needed her calm enough that I could get close to her,” the Dark Knight said simply, shifting into detective mode as he caught a glint of metal nearby the altar. Bending over and quickly recognizing the object, and the other object that rested closely nearby it, he grabbed the dagger and the gem and looked them over. He recognized the style on both but knew research would be needed before he could reach any valid conclusions. Slipping them under his cape, he placed them in empty slots on his belt.

It was then that the demon, looking down at the being on the altar, gave out a comment.

“So, does that Batmobile of yours have a trailer hitch? Will you be pulling a bat-horse-trailer out of your belt?” Etrigan remarked as he poked at the mare’s hind leg a few times.

Putting a hand to his ear piece Batman spoke clearly and calmly, “Zatanna, I need your expertise, meet me at Jason Blood’s house.”

“My place? Why my place?” Etrigan said grumping, “I kind of like having my windows intact.”

“Because your place has the largest occult library in the city,” Batman said with a finality about it.

Etrigan looked down at the sleeping mare, “And just HOW do you expect us to get her there?”

“Pick her up. Carefully,” Batman responded directly, yet again simply, as he turned and headed for the door, not so much as giving a second glance at the demon.

Snarling Etrigan looked at Batman as he left.

“Do I look like some bat butler?!" he yelled. "We should be out tracking Morgaine la Fey.” His words fell on deaf ears, however, as he watched the caped crusader slowly exit the warehouse, leaving only him and the mare. Turning towards the mare, he gave out a sigh.

“Carefully, he says. She’s a horse! How do you pick a horse up carefully?” scratching at his head for only a moment, the demon gave out a sigh before bending himself down towards the mare. Initially, he rolled the mare onto her back, folding up one wing against her side in the process. Once done, he lifted her by the back, letting her other wing and head hang just over his right shoulder. She was just too big for him to lift any other way. “She must weigh half a ton,” Etrigan grumbled as he started walking backwards, momentarily stumbling before righting himself with a grunt and moving forward. Doing this he was able to let her other wing, mane, and tail drag on the ground without stepping on it.

It was a tedious process, but eventually he managed to make his way outside, where Batman was waiting.

"... I hope you don’t expect me to carry her all the way there,” Etrigan said as he quickly glanced around the area, looking for someway, any way he could rid himself of the weight that threatened to make him sore for the coming week.

Turning Etrigan, saw a standard 10-foot box delivery van. Of course. It was the docks, after all, and there were plenty of warehouses here, so why wouldn’t there be shipping trucks? Looking at the logo on the side as he made his way towards the vehicle, Etrigan shrugged, “Do you think this 'Wayne' guy will mind us borrowing one of his vans?” he asked the Dark Knight, receiving no response, but not caring either, as he then heaved the mare into the back of the van, before then closing it with another grunt.

Batman, seemingly satisfied, turned away from the truck and began to make his way back to his own vehicle.

"You drive the truck. I’ll meet you there,” he said. Etrigan, glancing towards his, rose a concerned brow as a possibility rose in his mind.

“And if the not-so-little lady wakes up?” he questioned.

“Deal with her gently. And, remember it’s still a little girl,” Batman emphasized, before then boarding his vehicle and driving off, the rubber of the wheels grinding against the pavement, momentarily fighting for traction, a result of the lost friction that came from the rain, before gaining purchase, the car shooting off into the distance.

“Just a little girl.. 'Just a little girl'? She’s got more magical energy then she can handle, and he wants me to remember she’s just a little girl?! Next time he runs into Catwoman I’ll have to remind him, she’s just a lady, and that he shouldn't hurt her!” Etrigan complained before hopping inside of the truck. He began to work on hot wiring it so as to make sure it would move in the first place.