Dark mists swirled fathomlessly through Azrael’s mind. He knew vaguely that he was dreaming, but there was something different about this dream.

Whatever it was would flicker across his senses, touching them for only the briefest second, so that he was never quiet sure of what it was he was feeling.

It was watching him.

Azrael shivered. He didn’t like this feeling of uncertainty.

Suddenly, something stepped out of the mists. Azrael gasped, realizing it was a child- a young girl. She didn’t look to be any older than nine or ten, but there was something about her presence that told Azrael that this being was incredibly old, perhaps even older than himself. As he watched her in silence, he realized what she reminded him of.

Charon.

The last time he met Charon, Charon had revealed his power to them. Azrael had never felt anything as overwhelming as Charon’s power before, until now. This girl held that same power, that same presence, just as Charon had. Azrael opened his mouth to speak. Her eyes widened, in horror and sick revolt and she stepped back hastily, staring at him. Azrael blinked and frowned uncertainly. She shuddered looking at him with horrified eyes and whispered,

“Stay away from me. I will not be touched by a fallen.”

 

 

And then the dream was gone. Azrael found himself sitting up, looking out over the moonlight bathed terrain. He had fallen asleep in the depths of Hailia, somewhere on top of a hill, over looking plains and forest. He looked down, breathing quickly, trying to bring his mind together enough to try and sort out his dream.

Then something from the depths of his mind opened. He wasn’t quiet sure at first that it had come from his mind, and after a few seconds realized that it hadn’t. It had come somehow from a memory of the wanderer’s mind, imprinted upon his consciousness.

He suddenly knew what the little girl had accused him of. He gasped, standing up. He had to find Michael and Minerva. Quickly.

 

 

“No way.” Fairien was saying. “No way. I mean, that’s… well… I could maybe believe I would do it, if I got angry enough, but you two are much too levelheaded for that!” he said defiantly. Azrael and Minerva gazed at him, not wholly convinced. They had met quickly at Azrael’s summon and were sitting together in the ruins of Malibius. The pillars and stone looked eerie and white in the pale moonlight. Fairien crossed his arms in frustration. Azrael closed his eyes.

“The point is, we don’t know. We don’t remember anything from before this world; we could have been different back then. You never know.”

“We wouldn’t have been that much different! There’s no way!” Fairien said, but his confidents were draining.

“Are you certain of this… ledged that you seem to have pulled from the wanderer’s mind?” Minerva said. Azrael nodded.

“It clearly states that there are beings like us in her world, and that long ago some of them rebelled from their creator and were cast out into a place of torture, away from all the rest.”

“… Well, were certainly are alone here… caste out.” Minerva spoke quietly. Azrael nodded.

“No way!” Fairien said, “Does this place seem like a place of torture to you? I don’t know about you two, but I love this world!”

“We love it too of course Michael. Please calm down. We’re only trying to make sense of all this.” Azrael said peaceably.

“What could have made us rebel? Hmphm…” Fairien frowned, “There’s no way… Besides, our world, filled with wondrous things, and people, with love and warmth… I don’t see how it could ever be an undesirable place.” Fairien muttered.

“Maybe it is.” Minerva said softly. “Look at it this way, what would be the worst thing that could happen, the worst torture imaginable?” Fairien looked blank and shrugged.

“There are a lot of things… I guess.” He said. “You can’t just pin down one thing as being the worst…”

“What about losing everything dear to you?” she asked. The watched her, curiously. She continued, “To have such a strong love built up over thousands of years, and then to suddenly have it taken away and destroyed.” Azrael and Fairien dropped their eyes and pondered her words silently.

“Yeah, that would be pretty bad.” Fairien finally said.

“The only thing I could think of that would be worse would be to lose your only friends also, to have them turn against you, and try to destroy you and everything you care about.” Minerva finished. Fairien and Azrael stayed silent, realizing what she was getting at.

“We… did that…” Azrael said quietly.

“But we over came it!” Fairien said. “We didn’t lose everything dear to us! We didn’t destroy each other!”

 “Then perhaps we defied fate by doing so. Maybe that was only the first attempt.” Minerva said.

“… If we conquered that torture, then maybe… We can conquer anything they throw at us.”

“Don’t be so hopeful Michael.” Minerva said. “Look at everything happening in your country right now.” Fairien winced. He knew what she was talking about. In the months following the war, small groups had risen up in Betamy, aimed at gaining power, both among the people and in the government. Many of their motives seemed pure… But many of the groups were strongly racists, and were trying to purify Betamy of Hailians and other races. There wasn’t really much Fairien could do about it, and they had been operating in secret, away from official eyes. Their power was still very small, but Fairien was afraid daily that it was going to grow.

“So…?” he said, trying to save face, “there’s always some kind of trouble going on. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“But why only him?” Azrael asked. “Why aren’t bad things happening in all of our countries, if that was the case?” Minerva shrugged.

“Perhaps because Michael is the most rash among us… And he has the most to lose.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fairien asked. Minerva watched him for a moment and shrugged. Getting no response Fairien sat back in annoyance and quoted, “The mind only knows what the heart tells it.” Minerva’s eyes flashed angrily.

“Shut up.” She said. “That quote was devised by a silly mortal who knew not of what he spoke.”

“I think it has a ring of truth to it. You’d be surprised at the insight of mortals sometimes Minerva.” Fairien said. Minerva opened her mouth to reply, but Azrael cut in.

“Enough, both of you. Stop this. We aren’t getting anywhere. I say we adjourn this and keep a close eye on our world and our selves. Perhaps we will learn something that way.” Grudgingly Fairien and Minerva agree, and stood up, ready to depart.

 

 

Fairien walked alone in the woods.

“Stupid…” he muttered, lost in his thoughts. There was no way any of it was possible… Azrael just had some kind of weird dream… That was all. Besides, he didn’t have time to worry about stuff like that. He had a country to take care of.

Still, in the back of his mind Fairien felt something akin to fear begin to wedge itself into him. He sighed angrily. So what if it was true? That was in the past. It wasn’t affecting the present so there wasn’t any need to worry about it now.

Suddenly he felt something around him… A powerful presence. Fairien stopped, dead still. The night was quiet, he realized. Where there should have been sounds of crickets chirping there was nothing. He shivered, feeling suddenly numb.

“Hello?” he asked, his voice ringing out into the night air. Somehow that made it worse.

And then, Fairien saw her. A small girl stood staring at him from behind a tree. Slowly she moved from behind the tree, never taking her eyes off of him. Fairien stared back, fascinated by her power.

He gasped suddenly, as his vision began to fade, blackness pouring through his mind. Fairien tried to move, but he felt himself falling, loosing consciousness. A tremendous fear filled him, and then… nothing.