It had ultimately been his foolish greed that had lost him the child. He wanted the girl, but she had wanted something else, something familiar. Through the years, she had changed, lost her imagination, refused to believe what had happened to her. He fell out of love with her hard, and it had hurt him deeply.

He had wrecked so much, destroyed anything that made him think of her, changing his city and even the Labyrinth itself. He wanted the world to feel pain like he had. It gave him purpose.

Then, he had found something calling. Someone who's mind was open to his influence. The child, Toby, who he had not cared to keep a hold on. He was lost, confused, hurting. He was teetering on the edge of fantasy and logic, dreams and reality. He was vulnerable.

It was then he set his sights on him, and had planted the memories into his dreams, sent his voice and his touch to the boy in the wind. That small, red book gave him everything he needed. This time, there would be no getting away. He filled Toby with notions of him being more, and he took great joy when the boy sat and stared for almost hours, trying to get to what was inside him.

Slowly, he started to make himself familiar, to evoke the dreams of what had happened so long ago, leaving out the affection he had shared for Sarah.

Then, that night, he left a small round, seeming glass orb in the boys hand. Inside, were two small, purple things that looked a little like pills and a little like eyes. To blur the boundaries between the future, and his own true dreams.