The Dilandau Carol

          Dilandau shifted in his chair, and absently carressed the scar that ran accross his cheek. He wanted revenge. He wanted blood. He wanted . . . fire!

          "Migel!" he shouted, surging to his feet.

          "Yes, Lord Dilandau?" a young brown-haired man asked.

          "Prepare my guymelef. I'm going to Palas," Dilandau ordered. The young man saluted and Dilandau grinned with malice, a not quite sane look in his eyes. "Heheheheheheehee! Here I come, Allen Schezar!" he cackled. A slight thumping noise alerted him to the fact that his guymelef was ready. He climbed into its waiting cockpit and took off.

          "Hehehehehehehehehe! Burn, burn! I shall burn them all at their silly party!" he howled, knowing full well that it was the eve of the Asturian Christmas Ball.

          Just as he was getting ready to launch a fire attack on the palace, a white light exploded in the sky, and engulfed him in its brillance. In front of him stood a blond woman he had never seen before. "Who are you?" he asked the woman.

          "I am the ghost of Christmas Past. Take heed, for the course that you have set yourself on will come to nothing more than disaster," the woman replied in an etheral voice.

          "What do I care? BURN!" he shouted, and promptly torched the woman where she hovered, causing her to disappear in a flash of smoke. "Ahhh, nothing like the smell of fire in the morning," Dilandau crowed. Just then, another flash of white light, and he found himself staring at a likeness of Allen Schezar. But instead of having the long blond hair, this figure's hair was short and red.

          "I am the ghost of Christmas Present. That who you killed was my sister. Take heed, your actions only condemn you more," the man said.

          Dilandau snorted, and torched the red haired man, screaming, "I HATE YOU!"

          Right on schedule, a third ghost appeared, and this one was more scary than the last two, for it wore a hooded cowl and its face could not be seen. Dilandau didn't even give it a chance to speak or move, he torched it, yelling, "I DESPISE YOU!"

          Having satisfied his fire lust on the three hapless ghosts, Dilandau decided that he would let the Asturians enjoy their little party. He could always torch the building later. With a happy, delinquent chuckle, he turned his red guymelef towards the floating fortress, and returned to his bed to dream of setting dragons on fire.

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