The girl who sat beside Cadell’s sleeping form, already knew what he was dreaming of. Although his eyes were closed, she could see it. He stirred and moaned in his slumber, yet she remained silent in her vigil. She crossed her long strawberry pale legs, and a stray lock of short turquoise hair fell across her face.   It had been only two days since they had all lived through the same dream that was now causing this great warrior to sweat in his sleep. She also realised how different everything was now.

Cadell suddenly bolted upwards in the chair. His breathing was ragged and his hair dishevelled. He looked feverishly at the girl-woman beside him.

“So, you’re awake finally.” She spoke softly.

A name escaped his lips. “…Rayne?”

Cadell leant his weight on his arms and pulled himself up from the chair. Rayne smiled. “No need for formalities. You were sleeping soundly there.”

Cadell pressed a hand to his forehead. “I was sleeping?” He asked.   

“Yes and no.” She said. She stood up, stretching her arms behind her back. “You weren’t asleep long. I only got here 20 minutes ago.”

“I was dreaming…? You should have woken me.” Cadell said groggily. “Did Trystan bring you back?”

Rayne frowned. “No, actually. Did he say he would?”

Cadell ran a hand through his long hair absently as he nodded.

“You look troubled.” Rayne said.

“Phoenyx… That was her name, wasn’t it?” Cadell murmured softly.

“…Mom?”

Cadell turned his head as his younger brother slunk into the room. Trystan looked confused, then he spoke. “Phoenyx… that was Mom’s name.” He confirmed.

Rayne sat back as the two brothers looked at each other. “Were you thinking of her too?” She asked Trystan. Yet both Cadell and Trystan snapped their gazes to her.

“I wasn’t thinking as much as, dreaming.” Cadell answered.

Rayne eyed him curiously. “I thought you were dreaming about, the rain… well, you looked feverish.”

“…That too.” Cadell admitted finally. “Just of… rain.”

Trystan sat down, gazing intently at his brother. “When you dreamt of her, what did she look like?”  

“I was dreaming.” Cadell snapped quickly. “Just flashes. Nothing more.”

Trystan narrowed his eyes at him coldly. “Stop making out that you’re some damn villain that doesn’t care!”

Eira padded into the room oblivious to the conflict, and sat down cross legged next to Cadell. “I found one.” Trystan snapped softly. “By the way.”  

“Well, then you ‘found’ all three of us then.” A voice snapped. Arienne swept past, Rhiamon following. “I don’t like being checked up on.” She went to sit behind Eira. Rhiamon stood, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

“Not ‘checking on’ as such.” Cadell countered. “Gathering is a nicer word.”

“I suppose the males were gathered too?” Rayne asked.

“Actually, Cadell gathered me earlier on.” Trystan said, with a stretch of his arms. “If I count, that is.”

Arienne laughed softly. “Nearly.”

Cadell ran a hand through his long hair absently. “You look troubled.” Rhiamon noted.

Arienne turned attention back to Cadell. “So, I hope all your brooding has paid off.”

Cadell humoured her with a snort. He sat forward in his seat, threading the fingers of his clasped palm together. The other youths waited in anticipation, yet Cadell remained silent.

Arienne ran her fingers through Eira’s hair and began to braid it. It was hard for Cadell to say what he needed to, in case he was heard by other ears. When Cadell did talk; he talked of the past, and of their roots. He also spoke briefly of their parents.

But more importantly, he talked of leaving.

@->--

This would be my last night with you. Although I can’t call you my lover, because fate created a wall between us. A barrier to deceive my eyes and soul that I can reach you, yet as much as I try to be near; we are divided.

I don’t even know your name.

I first met you when I was 14 years old. I had stumbled across this place out of my youthful curiosity and wandering. Hidden deceptively, I was immediately curious to the care that had been taken to make the room unappealing to passers-by. The place was decrepit and dark, and the light shone dimly from fluorescent ceiling lights. I had chased a shadow in here by chance that day.

For a moment, I fancied the room was smaller than it appeared, but as I drew closer, my curiosity was heightened. In a dark corner, a curious shape. Intrigued by my discovery, I had edged closer. The shape was still, and drenched in shadow. Each inch I dared to approach, the shape became more visible. I realised it was a man.

There you were. At first, I wasn’t sure if you were alive, but, I noticed a quick flash of breath at your throat. A casual entwining of your fingers in your long matted hair covering your face. It was as I tried to step closer still I realised your prison. Made of glass, but on closer inspection, diamond. I press against the walls I can’t see. I realise there is a hum of electricity in the air, and recognise the traces of a defence system. But why would they keep a prisoner in such a derelict, hidden place?

Your head moved, and I flinched as your gaze met mine. Hidden by hair, I could only see your one deep brown eye assess me. You were naked, but I felt far less covered than you at that moment. I crawled to the floor, fascinated. I saw the wild in you, and it awoke something in me.

I spent so many hours watching you. The days turned into weeks, months and eventually, years. You became my inspiration. I thought of you when… well, none of that matters anymore… From you I learned not to break. I had realised the reason you were here. Your prison was derelict, yet high security. Hard to come by, and deceptively easy to enter if you knew where to look. You were here to be forgotten. You were visited once a day, to be fed; to be kept alive. You never broke.

I visited you when I could. I came, and sat, and watched. You didn’t respond to me, yet acknowledged me when I arrived, by a glance of the head, a swish of long hair. I talked to you, but you never talked back, or gave any indication that you heard me. You were hanging on to your humanity, day by day. Some days you were more like an animal. Primitive, yet calm in your demise.

I tried to find out your name, but I didn’t find anyone that was willing to tell me, and of the people that knew of you, didn’t know anything more. I would ask Cadell, my brother, but for some reason, I didn’t want him to know. You were my guilty secret.

Strange new feelings were brimming in me over the months. I was no stranger to sex, yet this was different. My eyes trailed over your lean muscles and your harsh features. I was afraid of you, yet this was mixed with enthralment and excitement. Your eyes were like an untamed animal, and flickered back and forth, or just stared soullessly. How did you stay alive so long? I guess they must force feed you, in case you turn from your food. Why is it so important that you remain alive? ...Who are you?

The months became years. I gave you a name. I called you Delsin, that meant ‘he is so’.

And you were.

So here I stand today. As I arrive, you give your usual flicker of a greeting. Today you’re sat with your hair falling on your shoulders, you head back and resting against the wall. Your eyes glance in my direction, and then back again.

I try to press my soul against you, through glass. Through, between, and back again, I press this rage and despair, these 18 years. I press this living death, and pray you understand.

These would be my last moments with you. Do you have any conception of time? Of years and days? Do these moments seem a lifetime for you, while they are so fleeting for me?

I loved you, did you even know that? I wanted you to look at me as more than just a child. I wanted you to see me. I wanted you to see that although age hadn’t weathered me; time had. I step back from the glass, and raise a hand to my shirt, and deftly undo the first button. Then the second. I look downward as my fingers work. Each button is a military operation… an addiction. Like chocolate morsels, each only to be consumed in neat rows. I guiltily allow myself; button by button. I lift my shirt from pale milk shoulders. For the first time in my life, I am nervous of my lithe body. I let the shirt fall. Next; my boots. I lean forward, tugging them off my feet. I try not to look ahead of me, my own long black hair masking my face. My skin is shivering.

Hours, moments, years I have watched you. I wanted you to see me, as I have seen you. I want to meet you on your level. I don’t want to hide anything. As I cast my boots aside, I glance upwards. I am startled for a moment. You are uncurled, kneeling, and staring up at me curiously. Your eyes trail up my body. Your features are unreadable. I shiver, and this time I know it’s me. I wonder stupidly, and briefly, if you even like men at all. But even I know that it doesn’t matter anymore.

I raise my chin and stare back into your eyes. I’m not afraid. I’m not a child. I never have been. There is acceptance in your face now, and curiosity. My trembling fingers move to my trousers. You sit silently, watching. Tremors are running through me, but this is nothing sexual. It’s beyond that. I push the material from my near white hips, and let the last shreds fall to the ground. I’m naked. I brush long strands of midnight hair back over my bare shoulder, and drop to my knees. My spine curves as I nervously raise my eyes to look at you again. I watch with wonder as you crawl towards me across the floor. You close the space between us with moments, whereas I have taken years. Then you are before me.

If you still know how to speak, you don’t attempt to. Maybe words no longer mean anything to you. I gaze over you, marvelled at seeing you so close, so within my grasp, yet not. With your eyes, you trace my scars, and I trace yours. My arms hang at my sides, my hands on the floor. I let your assessment continue. Your eyes are still wild, yet betray your emotions when you are close. Yet I still can’t decipher the feelings there. I’ve never seen any of them before.

I meet your heavy gaze once more, before I let my forehead press against the cold surface. I press the memory of you to the centre of my being, and vow to hold you there.

@->--

Trystan straightened the collar of his shirt and fumbled the last button closed. He walked in silence through the colony for the last time.

Cadell was waiting for him to arrive. There were grey shadows beneath his eyes and at the creases of his steeled jaw.

“Trystan? It’s time.”

@~>~