It had been years...

He felt it in his very depths of his demonic soul, if he had one. The calling. The passion. The feeling that threaded his very bones together. It seemed as if that pulse that awoke him called even more fierce, as if the need was even more begging that it was 300 years ago. Or was it... 500. It mattered no more. The calling was here. And he was needed.

Sirius opened his eyes. They glowed red in the darkness, the deepest darkness. But, he could not see. His mind crept back through the quagmire of dreams and of darkness, going back through the swamp that was his home, and back to where he was in the physical world of Arca. He was on the crescent celestial desert, bursting with life that he had destroyed so long ago. Strings of wonderment wiggled its way into the dust-filled room, making his hand reach for the blindfold. With the slightest movements he could muster, he found his hands bounded by a gold chain. It was easy to bend, but he tried cut it with his talon-like claws. Of course, after years of not being used, he found that the claws had disappeared. He resorted to bending the chains.

He lifted the blindfold off his eyes, swerving his vision around the room. It was dusty, untouched, and barren. It was a wonder how Sirius got in this room in the first place. He knew the way out, it had been engraved in his mind like a nightmare. No. It was a nightmare. A horrible, crucifying nightmare. A nightmare when all was damned back into the Black Room, where he was one of the few that escaped with his life. He was also upside-down, bounded in some type of chain to the ceiling. This, he did not know how that happened. He also did not know that those chains were dark-magic, one a demon could only see.

Finally, he managed to leap down from his post and straighten himself out. He was missing his shirt, it in rags at the floor. The door itself was rickety, and it collapsed at his feet with a mere push. The solid, isolated figure took into a slow walk, flames of purple curling up around him. Three turns to the right, two turns to the left, up a flight a stairs, down an 'endless' hallway, turn another right, and there was a door.

The door.

He tilted it open, only to go wielding back into the darkness. So. Bright. So. Warm. So... Enlightened. It burned. It burned. He walked into a lightened shadow, trying to adjust to the world he was about to enter.

Then he threw the door open.

The light burned for the slightest moment, before dying back down to withering ember. He walked out into the desert, searching for any movement, any type of life. The hellish fiend gently spread his wings, and flapped once. The black magic, the dust, the weariness, it flew across the silent desert, creating a windstorm of sand leagues beyond.

He smiled.

Sirius was awake.