Have you ever felt darkness scratch on your door? Without each other, we wither.

Rhiamon strode down the familiar white corridor of the ship with no particular purpose. The lighting was dim, small lights embedded in the walls either side of him. The corridor was circular, the walls curving to meet above his head. Soldiers pass as he travels, but they don�t question him. Their eyes looked initially to his glasses as he pushed them further up his nose. Then to his tousled dark brown hair, and finally � and importantly � to the status pinned onto his broad chest. Their glances are quick and discreet. He caught stray eyes in a frown, but not allowing confrontation. His stride was confident, and he has learnt to be sure of himself, even whilst he may not be.

He was aware of his status, and the certain benefits it allowed him. But not assurance of any sort of security at all.

He glared once more with authority that was not his to administer at a suspicious eye from a soldier. His 20 years in this life had taught him many lessons.

�Middle habitat 505GJ.�

As the elevator slowed to a stop, Rhiamon stepped out on to the pseudo turf ground. He had arrived deep in the centre of the vast ship. No light was visible here that wasn�t artificial. There were various levels to the ship. It was built a long time ago by a falling civilisation, using resources that cost an entire planet nearly all of its ecosystem. It was more suitable to think of this as a colony than a mere vessel. It contained its own ecosystem with both mammal and plant life which has been sustained for centuries. And that�s precisely what this ship had become. A whole world contained. Sustained and nourished, like an ant farm behind glass. Living on, blissfully unaware of its existence in relation to higher powers.

The ship was controlled by an Empire. As the ship was created, it was taken from the hands of its makers. They were a weak people that had taken their chances in the darkness of space with the last of their resources, rather than face the approaching threat.

But the army wasn�t so easy to outrun. The ship was taken - forcibly � and had sustained more than civilians ever since. Rather a growing army. A high population of the ship were soldiers, or played a role in the Empire�s desires. Some were still only civilians yet, under the Empires� control. There were many different forms of intelligent life, collected from the many different worlds the ship has contacted with... and destroyed. But even when a world died, it seemed to be reborn in some way within the ship. Did that make them destroyers, or creators? Were they Gods, of kinds?

The Empire�s soldiers were called the Black Flowers Army. Rhiamon and his five companions and siblings, were soldiers amongst thousands of others.

So they go from world to world, wiping whatever is in their path. And as they do, these worlds within a world seemed to even grow, like the forests of the lower habitats. The colony was made of levels. Different habitats. The lower habitats were dense with vegetation. Completely alien species exist within metres of each other, and the ecosystem adapts to this. Of course, many species quickly die out, and some may take years to finally lose their struggle for life amongst the jungle.

Below this level - directly below - was what could be called the bowels of the ship. Dark, and rarely illuminated, it�s not a place to be seen in. But it�s an easy place to not be seen, if that�s what you desired. This was the place where activities that were held, weren�t discussed out of the shadows. Tonight though, the shadows were providing little cover.

The higher levels of the ship were populated by a small melting pot of civilisations. These were the living habitats, and sadly, what people call home. They lived like herded animals, under the Empire�s controlling eye. Above this still, lay the army�s habitat. The nucleus of the ship, this was the part that controlled directions, decisions. It controlled fate within the vast structure of the ship, and even beyond. Up there were laboratories, control rooms, training facilities and prisons. Whoever was deemed a considerable threat was held there. The more treasured prisoners. All others were held within the ship bowels� although many of them walked freely down there.

The windows in the higher levels were vast and spacious. Real light, in any form was allowed nearly permanent access through to this part of the ship. Prisoners there were fortunate in this respect, if in no others. They were valued highly enough to be allowed the privilege of watching stars.

The middle levels were further into the core. And tonight, Rhiamon entertained the idea of going a little lower; digging a little deeper.

@->--

The soldier ducked under the metal beam, entering the garage complex. He was an officer by the name of Godbeck. He fumbled in his jacket for his keys, passing vehicles as he went. Strips of light shone down in parallel; the moonlight passing through the grid of metal ceiling beams. The metal of the cars and bikes seemed like gorged light trapped beneath glass.

He came to his motorbike, parked half in the shadows. He drew to a sudden halt and gasped.

A young man was draped over the length of the bike, his face nestled against the leather that glowed softly. Trystan�s long dark hair fell in thick strands over the metal, and his gloved arms hung loose. His bleached white shirt rode up beneath his stomach.

Godbeck couldn�t draw his transfixed gaze. He frowned angrily. �Get off my bike!� He yelled. �Now!�

Trystan drew a heavy gaze to the soldier, eyelids darkened with kohl. He smiled, nuzzling his face against the leather seat with a snip of a purr. �I love your bike�� He drawled. His exposed torso softly blazed ashen, disappearing into tight black trousers. ��Like the cold lips of fallen men.�

Godbeck advanced a step. A mixed reaction in his expression; part intrigue and disgust. �What the hell makes you think I�m like you�?�

Trystan�s face shone where there were no shadows; a flush of faint colour on milk cheeks. The soldier advanced again, stepping further into the light towards his bike. There were scars to mar his appearance now, yet they were blushed softly. The soldier reached a trembling hand towards Trystan; angry and stern in his expression and tone.

�Get off my bike�� Godbeck�s hand reached Trystan, and dragged carefully through tangled black hair. Trystan lifted his torso upwards, and the soldier closed in. His hand suddenly grasped Trystan�s hair at the scruff of his neck, holding him rigidly. Trystan half gasped, but smirked. Godbeck drew in; his breath ghosting over Trystan�s lips.

�Don�t get any ideas, fag �� The soldier snarled quietly. �I�m not like you��

@->--

The moonlight rarely shone so brightly through the halls of the lower ship, the areas where its inhabitants preferred the darkness in their businesses. But since they had been docked at this particular planet for several hours, eerie light from two large moons had flooded the corridors.

Rhiamon walked briskly; compelled somehow by this eerie light, but not caring to linger where it wasn�t necessary.

There were murmurs in the dark.

�I assure you, I can be very persuasive. I think I�m owed.�

Rhiamon�s head moved, trying to locate the voice. He almost didn�t see Cadell�s brother hidden in what little shadows were left on the platform. He could see flashes of fine porcelain skin, and the soft glow of a leather jacket draped from his slender shoulders.

He was conversing with someone that Rhiamon couldn�t make out. He paused, and Trystan�s head bolted up, his senses alert. Rhiamon knew he had been seen.

In seconds, Trystan had muttered something soft, but assertively to his companion, and strode towards Rhiamon. His face softly came into view.

�Trystan? It won�t do your reputation any good to be hanging around here .� Rhiamon noted.

Cadell�s brother smirked softly. �I had loose ends.� He explained shortly. �So loose, it seems my acquaintance has made himself scarce.� He mused, glancing behind him.

Rhiamon glanced back after the other soldier ducking into the shadows. �Did you know him?�

Trystan shrugged dismissively. �Not really. No point in delighting ourselves with the scenery around here any longer, then.�

Rhiamon set his pace to match the shorter man. He always seemed more delicate than his brother. Cadell was broadly built, with noble sculptured features. Trystan on the other hand, was almost doll-like. Still with good height to him, he was slender but finely toned.

He often wondered what Trystan�s parents had looked like. Had Trystan�s and Cadell�s different father�s been the result of such a difference in their sons? He would ask Trystan how much he remembered of them, but dismissed the thought.

�You�re looking every bit of your usual Lolita.� Rhiamon mentioned delicately.

Trystan let out a playful snort.

The younger man looked deep in thought tonight, as he sometimes did when he didn�t realise anyone was studying him. Not that Rhiamon was studying him, as such� Just, at these moments, he felt privileged for Trystan to let his guards down around him. It was unusual to say the least in their situation. Trusting another soldier here was not advisable. But the deep trust that locked the youths within it ran deep in their blood.

He watched the way Trystan walked with one finger loosely in a belt hoop of his trousers, his black eyed gaze gazing intently on everything, as though it were the most important thing he�d seen yet.

�Well, now we know where half of the pack is.� Trystan remarked suddenly. �Cadell�s sulking in self pity in his chamber, and you and I are together.� He drew to a halt, soft creases appearing in his brow.

�I see. We seem to be missing three, to be exact.� Rhiamon agreed.

�Cadell�s asking after them.� Trystan said. �He looks�stressed. And not just in that worrying way of his. Besides, I guess I owe him a favour.�

Rhiamon smiled. �They are our sisters.�

�Cousins.�

�Nieces.�

�And we love them very much.�

A grin broke Trystan�s sudden brooding mood. �Let�s go round up the women, like the good strong men we are, right?�

�I�m sure they�ll be thrilled.� Rhiamon smirked. He paused. �Why a favour?� He asked suddenly. Trystan rarely needed an excuse to look after his siblings. He watched as Trystan collected his answer.

It finally appeared as a grin. �We had a little run-in with, ah� a lapdog.�

Rhiamon frowned immediately. �Who?�

�Lili �as.� He flicked the exaggeration with his tongue.

�Damn it, Trystan. Was Cadell with you?�

Trystan raised an eyebrow, and snorted softly. �Yes, Cadell came dashingly to the rescue, like the white knight as he is.� He clasped his hands together in a mock swoon. �All broad shoulders and cavalry charge.�

Rhiamon�s lips were thin. �Good.� Cadell was rising rapidly in rank within the army. He was gaining privilege and status.

�He can�t be touched, right?� Trystan�s eyes had a gleam of something in them. He seemed aware of this in himself, and looked away. �At least his authority means we�re more secure in this damn place. Especially for the girls.�

�They�d kill you if they heard you.�

Trystan laughed softly; staring at Rhiamon curiously. He stepped towards the taller youth, reaching out a hand to finger Rhiamon�s chin length hair. He paused, smiling. �I can�t get used to seeing you with short hair.� He said. �It looks good, though� It suits you.�

�I�m glad my hair was the only thing to be cut. I was lucky that they missed.�

Trystan smiled. �Now, you look taken�Do you have someone already?�

Rhiamon looked away. �We need to start looking for the girls.� He reminded his companion.

�Ok, fine.� Trystan flexed his abdomen sensually as he elaborately stretched.

�Let�s split up. We�ll double our chances.� Rhiamon said, and then watched as Trystan slunk back into the shadows.

@~>~

It took Trystan a long time to locate his younger sister. He chose to search for her more favourite places. Hidey-holes, cracks and deep places. She liked to disappear from sight, and to crawl within herself. Searching for her reminded Trystan of when they were far younger, reducing him to his hands and knees frequently.

She liked to be sheltered� But this doesn�t mean only in small places. Whether it be beneath sky or by metal.

It had been hard to predict where she would choose as her sanctuary this time. He had almost missed it. He heard the echoing sounds of a brawl in the distance, edging closer. He slipped into the shadows as the procession passed by, a soldier being dragged along. He swept back out only when it was all clear, and down the small corridor. That�s when he found her.

She was sat on the cold floor, her legs tucked beneath her. Her head was down, and he couldn�t see her face beneath her untamed mane. The mass of turquoise tendrils shifted as her face examined the floor. He walked right up to her as her finger moved through the puddle of blood on the floor. He watched with quiet fascination as his childish sister spread the deep red like finger paint.

�He can stop the bleeding, but they can�t stop the fading.� She whispered, without looking up at him. He just heard her words as they float up to him, but he wasn�t surprised. Strange outbursts are usual from her. She gazed at her handiwork once more. �It�s beautiful.� She exclaimed.

�Yeah.�

Her eyes were blue and expressive. She looked untainted; even when he noticed a little blood on her cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb, and she scrunched her nose tightly. She had an unusual disposition for a soldier. The eighteen year old was sensitive; even quick to cry.

Trystan knew better than to be deceived. One must be wary of a soldier that takes relish in the poetry of a last breath. She was easily distracted, and fascinated with small things, as well as small places.

�I dreamt about cocoons last night.� She said. Her eyes trace the shadows on his face. �And the silk that weaves through them.�

�Eira� come on, baby.� Trystan purred softly to her. �We have to go now. Cadell is worrying again.�

She nodded. Her eyes didn�t leave the shadows that were shifting like fingers over his face. She tilts her head to the side.

�Babes, your artwork is pretty... But I need to take you back now.� Trystan said, and offered a hand to her. She hesitated a moment, then clasped her biscuit tanned hand in his.

@->--

A shock of midnight hair whipped through neon and strobe. And amidst the pandemonium Rhiamon fell ungracefully to the floor.

He was lost within shoes and tiles, but the sea of colours and flurry parted before him. Something told him that this was meant to be the other way around. That he should be have been rescuing her. In the crowded chaos of the underground club where he had dared to venture, he had located one of the girls he was seeking. Or, he had initially found her. Her long black hair whipped around her as she grinded to the heavy music, her lean boyish hips fighting for space to move. Of course, soldiers here can get rowdy. Even in the presence of a young lady.

In Rhiamon�s haste to get her attention, he was unprepared as the fight broke out under his feet and all around him. He would like to tell his bruised male self that this was no ordinary girl, and that he shouldn�t feel any less of a man as his rescuer parted the sea of people and offered him a hand up.

Her mouth scowled as she spoke. �I hate men.�

He smiled. �I know. Help me up?� He got to his feet, and dusted himself down. �What was that about?�

Arienne snorted in response. �They don�t know how to behave in front of a lady, do they?�

�No. Any casualties?�

�One or two.� Arienne mused. �Should we get out of here?�

�Let�s.�

@->--

Arienne pulled a red shirt over her tanned body as she walked, glistening softly from a nights hard dancing. A passing soldier made an obscene gesture with his tongue.

�Cunt!� She yelled after him. She jogged a little to catch up to Rhiamon.

�Rhiamon? Rhiamon�!�

He lifted his head at her words. �What�? Sorry, I was miles away.� He wondered how many times she had been calling to him by her small frown.

�How long have you been dancing?� He enquired. �Hours?�

�I�m not even sure myself.�

�Cadell sent Trystan to find the rest of us.� Rhiamon explained.

Arienne nodded. �He�s been brooding ever since we got back. He�s been trying to decide where we go from here.�

Rhiamon frowned. �But where can we, realistically?�

Arienne stopped walking for a moment, looking away a little guiltily. �Eira said that things are already changing. That we can change things.�

Rhiamon stopped beside her. �Change? How?�

�What happened back then. To our parents, you know?�

Rhiamon�s jaw steeled. �Is this about the �time machine�, again? A machine is cogs and circuits. Time is physics; nature. It�s something far more complex.� He said with exasperation.

�But what if it did work�? Look at the technology on this ship!� She countered. She paused. �Eira said we can change things. Cadell� he believes her too.�

Rhiamon�s eyebrows lifted in surprise for a moment. Cadell did? �Do you believe her?� He asked Arienne curiously, studying her expression.

��I want out.�

Her eyes were determined. Rhiamon gave a sigh, walking away from her. �This is ridiculous.� He bit out.

Arienne pursued him. �Don�t you want out of this? I�ve spilt enough blood this lifetime. So have you.�

�That�s what we were bred for. It�s our design.� Rhiamon reminded her.

She overtook him, her expression dark. �Fuck design.�

�Your brain is waterlogged. So is Cadell�s.� Rhiamon noted sarkily.

�You don�t feel� any different?�

�We were rained on. I felt briefly wet.�

Rhiamon had barely said the words before Arienne slammed him backwards into the corridor wall. She was angry.

�Fine. But if this is what Cadell decides on, then either way; it�ll be the last order he gives.� Rhiamon predicted knowingly.

@->--

The battlefield was vast and contrived. It was man-made, fashioned in their young hands. Cadell stood to his feet once again, to gaze over the sea of bodies that littered the ground. He caught sight of the other youths, each alive and minimally injured from the fighting. As they should be. This was no strong enemy, no epic struggle for righteousness. Their enemy was unprepared for their arrival. As he looked around more slowly this time, he realised that this was a slaughter.

�There was no honour in this.

There was a loud rumbling from over their heads. As they stood, the six of them, they wondered momentarily if this strange planet they had been sent to was somehow unstable. But this was different. There was an electricity in the air that seemed to burn the very edges of them. Eira looked upwards before any of them, and lifted her arms to the heavens.

Cadell grew irritated by Eira�s stance. Didn�t she realise more than most, that there were no heavens above this unstable sky, just endless black? The rumbling was getting louder, and the sound pounded constantly at his ears.

A flash of light exploded across the purple sky. In his surprise, Cadell fell to his knees. Just as the blue purple velvet covering them, opened. The water poured down onto Cadell�s waiting body. He shivered from deep in his core, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

�In their short manic lives, they had never felt rain before. Raised within metal walls, and never habituating a planet long enough to feel this.

It washed over Cadell, and over his soul. It sunk into his tangled hair, and into his blood covered skin. It washed the stains from his skin, falling like tears down his face. Droplets paused at his lips, and he couldn�t utter them away.

(He wondered if this was a dream, and contemplated whether he was awake or still asleep. But what of those dreams, where you feel more awake than you ever have before? Was this just an apparition of his mind that he could simply wipe away? Could he wake from this dream, or would he drown in this reality?)

He felt a lost part of himself begin to beat within his chrysalis. He gasped for air. (He waited for his wings to dry; breathless.)

He didn�t hear himself against the storm as he screamed.

There is no honour in this�

@->--

Phoenyx was careful of her feet as she climbed the forest path, feeling her way. The high school girl�s eyes� eyes were focussed instead on her mobile phone screen. The ocean breeze nearby fluttered leaves in spirals around her legs�. She opened the text message that arrived with a low beep.

�NYX, SORRY I CAN�T MEET U LTR. OH, TELL WOLF TO STOP BITCHING ABOUT MY BROTHER.�

Wolfgang tried to read over Phoenyx�s shoulder. �Was that from Winter ? Is she coming or not?� He asked.

Phoenyx didn�t look up. �Nah, she can�t.�

�Her Dad again?� Wolfgang mused immediately.

�She didn�t say.�

Wolfgang nodded knowingly. ��He scares me.� He admitted.

�I think he�s cute.� Sebastian piped up suddenly.

Phoenyx grimaced. �Ugh�Please don�t. He�s been my parent�s friend for years. I�ve known him forever!� She complained.

Sebastian grinned, busying his fingers tying his school tie in an attractive lopsided bow. �He�s permanently moody. It�s irrationally attractive.�

Wolfgang laughed. �Winter would kill you.� He reminded his friend.

�Besides, he doesn�t bat for your ball team.� Phoenyx added.

Sebastian gave a confident snort. �Then why has he been single for all these years?�

�He lost his wife! He took it badly, you know?� Phoenyx snapped angrily. She paused a moment to compose. �Ok, that�s enough. New subject.�

Wolfgang still chuckled softly, but noticed the firm look in her black eyes. �Yeah, Sebastian. Drop it, you�re obsessed.� He said. He paused for effect. �Let�s bitch about Christmas instead.�

�Leave him be!� Phoenyx snapped quickly.

�Was that a blush?� Sebastian demanded jokingly. �If you dare have a crush on him, I swear I�ll disown you.�

A nod from Wolfgang. �I agree. He�s a creep.�

Phoenyx walked more briskly. �You�re just jealous of him.�

Wolfgang slowed his pace to match Sebastian�s. �I hear he buys his girlfriends expensive baubles.� Smiles were exchanged between them both.

�Classy guy.�

�Beautiful name.�

This caused Phoenyx to whirl around. �Winter said to stop bitching about him. Grow up! You do know his dead mother named him, right?!�

The boys fell silent. Wolfgang looked sheepish, running a hand through his bleached hair. �Ok� sorry.� He murmured.

Sebastian showed less remorse. Instead, studying Phoenyx. �You�re getting all maternal and hormonal all of a sudden.� He noted. �Are you on your period?�

�I am not maternal.�

�Ah. And your body is bleeding all over the place to prove you�re fertile? No wonder you�re getting pissed off.� Wolfgang diagnosed with an ironically wolfish grin.

�Well, it�s fighting a losing battle.� Phoenyx scoffed.

An old lady walked up behind them, unseen. She was dressed in a shawl and a long cloak holding a small velvet pouch. �Hello.� The three youths whirled around with surprise.

�Hi.� Phoenyx said uncertainly. Although this was their normal route home from school, it was usually desolate.

�Hullo Lady.� Wolfgang greeted.

The old lady crept closer. Her grey hair seemed to be fighting to be loose from under her hood and pins. �Do you ever think about the universe?�

The wind was picking up around the small procession. Phoenyx�s pigtails began to move too. �What?�

The old lady fingered her velvet pouch with knarred fingers. �Do you ever think about what you mean to the universe?�

Sebastian rolled his eyes. �When I get really bored.� He added sarkily. �We�re fine thanks.�

�Nyx, Let�s go.� Wolfgang said quietly, beginning to move off.

Waves were heard in the distance. A gull cried once.

The lady raised her voice to be carried as she continued. �Are you ever afraid ?�

Phoenyx didn�t follow her friends, staring at the lady curiously. ��What?�

The stones in the old lady�s pouch chimed and clinked softly. �Are you scared that life might be too big for your dreams?� She asked.

Wolfgang came back to stand with Phoenyx. �She�d love to pass Physics this year.� He snapped.

The old lady seemed to ignore him, her attention on Phoenyx. �What�s your religion?�

�I don�t have one�� Phoenyx admitted.

Wolfgang grew irritated. �She�s 16! What 16 year old isn�t worried about life?� he shouted at the old lady.

�She�s not interested in joining your cult, thanks.� Sebastian said sternly.

Thunder was heard above their heads. �Go home lady. It�s going to storm.� Sebastian added.

The old lady didn�t turn his way, but she nodded. �The wind is turning many wheels.� She agreed wisely.

Phoenyx stepped closer, her black hair whipping around her face. �What wheels? What about my dreams?� She asked quickly.

�Her bones aren�t made of crystals, Nyx.� Wolfgang urged Phoenyx quietly. �Let her go somewhere warm.�

Phoenyx seemed to not hear him. �I�ve been dreaming about cocoons.� She told the old lady suddenly but softly. It might have been lost in the roar of the wind.

The old lady paused knowingly. �So have they.� She said. �They�ve been waiting many years. To emerge.�

Where there was a great silence between the two females, sounds of the storm drew closer.

�That�s enough! Sorry old lady, but we�re leaving.� Sebastian snapped loudly. He gripped Phoenyx�s arm and steered her away up the forest path. The first drops of rain were falling.

Wolfgang looked back over his shoulder. �Go home lady.�

@~>~