The Dawn of Serenity by Jessica Pendragon

Chapter Twelve

The Dawn of Serenity

Hubris Arc

1,000 years later…


She had been waiting.

The horizon crackled continuously behind her as dark clouds gathered and clashed overhead. The sky always seemed to threaten to rain, but it never did anymore, leaving the ground at her feet broken and sharp. It was dark; a perpetual twilight caught beneath a building storm. All around her, a ruined landscape reminded her of a necropolis for the dead, a land where only darkness would be appeased and welcomed. Most of the land lay flat and barren, hugging the landscape like a stony shroud, but for one dark spot on the horizon. Rising above it all, the distant crystal palace shot into the bleak sky like a twisted oppressive hand, towering over the last city on this desolate rock.

For a moment, she watched as the green lightning illumined its parapets, and tried to envision this land alive. It was nothing but a scorched shell now; burned and consumed by her creator’s power and passion. She had heard the slaves speak of how this place had once been a paradise. Forests teeming with life, the green trees, lush grasses and brilliant sunsets under an open blue sky could only be myths, she knew -- whispers of hope amongst a ravaged people. This world had never been beautiful.

She remained quiet and still, allowing herself to become one with the dark earth at her feet. Her claws dug into the ground, and she could feel the dull pulse of it struggling to still survive. Her breath shallow, but her yellow eyes were constantly shifting, her pointed ears fully extended to see and hear everything around her. All her training and programming had brought her to this moment. This day, fate would change her life forever. She waited patiently, knowing she could not fail this time.

She heard the distinct sound of shuffling feet on flaking rock, and almost had to stop herself from laughing with glee. It was a faint crackling at first, but as her prey drew near, the dead land gave away their secret. Spending months lurking in shadow, she listened to the whispers upon the wind and the motion of the earth. She had let them think they were safe, and consequently they had fallen into her trap. She smiled wickedly as the thrill of the hunt filled her senses, but she didn't move. She had to wait for the perfect moment to strike.

They emerged from a deep crack in the parched earth -- three in number -- all pensive and alert. Beneath the twisted land, massive labyrinths of tunnels ran under her feet, gateways to the outsiders’ stronghold, but soon to be secret no more. They were a thorn in her creator’s side; a weed that could not be allowed to grow any stronger. Exposed for but a fragment of time, she knew their paths had to lead them into the open, giving her the chance she needed to fulfill her master’s wishes.

She slowly turned, poising herself to face the opening in the rocks where the sounds emanated from. One at a time, a figure moved cautiously forward. They appeared to be children three in number, but the knowledge they possessed made them kings and queens in her eyes. She let the first one go, her muscles tensing with excitement and anticipation. They were getting smarter; making it far more difficult to catch a group, but it would not save them, not this time. She only needed one. As the second of their intrepid little group crept slowly into view, she smiled to herself -- the wait was over.

She reached behind her, unhooking the weapon slung across her back and with lightning speed, bounded towards her prey, launching herself into the dark sky. From above, she took aim and pulled the trigger. A bright blue net sprang forth from the gun and fell over her victim -- embracing its target like an octopus envelopes its prey. A startled gasp was all her captive could manage before falling to the ground in a heap.

"No!" she heard the others scream. With a large thud, she landed on all fours before them. They gasped in terror as she stared at them, baring her razor-sharp teeth as she offered them a sinister sneer.

"Go!" the struggling figure at her feet urged her companions.

The huntress watched as the two survivors bore looks of deliciously agonizing anguish upon their faces as they reluctantly retraced their steps and disappeared from view. She looked down at the shuddering and weeping victim with a victorious smile.

+++

Something was going to be different today.

As the morning thunder rolled across the sky, Shing rose from his cot, greeting the day the same way he met every troubled day. Sometimes he found it difficult to make a distinction between the waking world and that of sleep. The Earth was as dark when he opened his eyes as when he closed them at night. Some nights, however, Shing dreamed of places he had never been. His eyes beheld such brilliant sights, like a far off beach with a warm setting sun and azure-blue waters as far as the eye could see, or tall red trees that seemed to stretch on forever. He had never known such things existed, but the Elders filled his mind with visions from the many wondrous stories they told.

Last night, the eldest of the Elders spoke of a land of majestic cobalt-blue mountains, vast fields of rice and the greenest grasslands one could imagine. She spun a tale concerning a tremendous wall and countless other accomplishments of man. The story meant to lift their spirits, to help them face the hard work that lay ahead, but all Shing could think about was his dream. He had dreamt of flying above the wall as the sun showered its warm rays upon him.

On those nights when Shing had such dreams, he knew something out of the ordinary was about to happen. One such morning, he had received an extra helping of bread by mistake; this after dreaming of strange triangles fashioned from sand, and got off work early after dreaming about running along side a strange animal with a long nose through a thick, magical jungle.

But Shing’s world was anything but magical. The rickety old shack he and seven other people lived in creaked and moaned against the dry air outside. There were holes in the walls where sand blew in, and as he rose from the bed a shallow layer shifted on his rough bed sheet. There were floorboards rotten by decay, but it did not stop some of those homeless from sleeping in the corners or under other’s beds. Quickly, Shing readied himself for the new day, shrugging into his uniform and shoes before bolting outside and making his way to the line.

He passed several of the same weathered dwellings on his way up to the glittering palace. The Slave’s Quarters was just waking up; women with screaming babies on their hips stood outside, looking as if they had worked all day already, their faces dirty and grim. Men stumbled out into the open, dragging equipment behind them, walking as if they were the living dead as they went to work. Shing ran passed them all, ignoring the poverty and stench of this place, and finally reached the guarded entrance.

Two sentries stood there as always, spears crossed over their massive chests. They seemed to be like living statues of granite; their skin was hard, grey, and cratered like rocks, and their heads were square upon their solid bodies. They towered over Shing as he neared; their small red eyes looking out at his world with disdain. The small boy always feared they would turn on him as he passed, crushing his bones with their enormous fists, but each day they seemed to ignore him, and Shing moved into the palace without incident.

Walking into the palace was like walking into another world. These halls were used only by the slaves, but were much more lavish than his home. The queen mocked their station by hanging gaudy and expensive decorations on the walls and soft throws beneath their feet. The lights brightened every corner, chasing the perpetual darkness away. Yet they could not live here. Every evening they were forced from the comfort and safety of the palace, and thrown back into the abyss of Earth once more.

He tried to ignore the luxuries and made for his work station on the east side of the palace. As Shing approached, he could see that a few of his friends were already waiting for him, lined up like prisoners about to face fire. But Shing practically skipped his way there, and as if reading his mind, his comrades snickered at his lopsided grin.

"Have another dream?" One whispered quietly, looking around to make sure they weren’t overheard. His hair was dark-brown with hints of blonde and he stood two heads taller than Shing, but his sense of self seemed larger than the building sometimes.

"Yes, about the wall!" Shing proclaimed.

"Why don’t you stop making these stories up already, Shing? Everyone knows dreams don’t exist. You’re wasting our time,” he scoffed.

"Take it easy, Ben," another other boy interjected. He was much older than either of them, and his violet eyes were kind. His hands and arms were scarred from the countless days of labor and abuse, but the older boy always had a smile for Shing. "What were you doing in your dream, Shing?"

"Flying," answered Shing.

"I'm glad. Now be quiet, both of you. Master Emshaud is coming," he ordered and they all jumped to attention.

"Stop protecting him, Aleksei," Ben whispered in the older boy’s ear. "You know he needs to face reality."

"Let him dream, Ben, while he can. Now hush."

At the hissing sound outside, all the remaining boys in the line fell quiet as well. They straightened as the grand taskmaster slithered into the room. Scales scratched against the hard stone as he came to stand before them. His tail giving off a ghostly blue glow in the faded light of the room, and they knew his scales were as hard as stone, for his hand had found their faces many times. A cobra hood loomed behind him, dark circle designs slithering their way down the back. Two dark ovals for eyes stared with deadly intent at those who looked upon them, and even now he looked at them with malice.

He stood before the silent group of young men and loudly cracked his neck to one side. The younger boys hated it, and he chuckled every time they squirmed. He snaked closer, observing their manner and attire. His tongue rolled out and tasted the air around each of them, causing their nerves to shiver. He seemed appeased as he reached the end of the line, for he didn't snarl or strike.

"All right scum, get to work."

+++

The broken plaster clinked together like heavy footsteps as Shing teetered his way down the hall. Two medium buckets swung like weights from a piece of wood draped over his neck and shoulders as small beads of sweat dripped into his dark eyes. With a grunt, he let his burden slip from his shoulders and took a moment to dry his forehead. He knew he shouldn’t rest, but the tiredness in his legs was overriding his common sense. To his right, a window framed the dark canvas beyond, and he glanced at the green lightning streaking across the bleak sky.

Below, a procession of red lights flowed through the city, making the streets look like rivers of blood careening from an open wound. And indeed, this place was nothing more than a fester, especially the Slave Quarters below. The buildings huddled together at weird angles as if trying to keep each other warm against the cold winds and hostile environment. Broken and brown, it wasn’t much to look at, but it was the only home he knew. Shing had never been beyond the city limits. The world was a waste land of black rocks and ash. Nothing lived passed the reach of the queen’s power.

"What are you doing maggot?" A sharp rap against his ribs brought his gaze abruptly away from the window. Master Emshaud towered high above him, his gaze extremely unpleasant. "Enjoying your break?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir. I was just-" Shing's small voice was interrupted as a hand struck his face.

"How dare you!" Emshaud roared. "You would have me punished because you wish to go sightseeing?"

"No, I just-"

"And insubordinate to boot -- I'll show you." Emshaud was unrelenting as he continued his barrage. The impacts brought tears to Shing’s eyes and filled his head with a twisted sickness that made him want to vomit. Shing curled up into a ball on the floor as small cries escaped his lips, trying to protect himself from his master’s rage.

"Stop it!"

Shing peaked his eyes through his arms as Aleksei appeared from nowhere and pushed Emshaud away. The man-monster was surprised at first, but in no time, Aleksei was pinned against the wall by his sharp tail. "And what do you think you're doing?" Emshaud exclaimed.

"He's just a boy!" Aleksei shouted as he clawed at the tail pinned firmly against his chest.

"Little willful boys grow into willful men. He must learn his place now."

"Not like this. Don't touch him again or else-"

"Or else what?" Emshaud laughed. "So passionate, Aleksei -- I hope your sister is as passionate in bed. She must be, for I hear the Lord has made her his special pet."

"You filthy snake...!"

Emshaud easily lifted him off the ground and with one powerful movement, slammed the older boy to the stone floor with a harsh thud. Aleksei let out a low rush of air as the wind was knocked out of him, and he held his stomach carefully.

"Watch your mouth, boy. And you," Emshaud turned, pointing his tail at Shing. "Do what you're told. Your life is nothing. You have it easy here; do not test my patience again, or I shall send you to the real hells of this world. Get back to work."

+++

Shing crept down the hallway, averting his eyes from those passing by. They were the queen’s subjects; monsters masquerading as regular people, but there was nothing natural about them. They were made of darkness and foul intent, and both shone on their twisted and fierce faces. Yet he was not of their illustrious station, and didn't even have the right to look at them. They simply laughed and chatted as they sauntered down the hall without a care in their designer clothes. He wished he could be like them sometimes; protected and free, careless and content.

The day had been a long and hard one for Shing. Oppression of both the body and mind plagued his afternoon until he thought he could work no longer. Gently, he touched the bruises on his face, and imagined what colors they would be in the morning. All day he had felt guilty for getting Aleksei involved, and hadn't seen the older boy since then. If only he had thought less about himself, and realized he didn't have the luxury of daydreaming. It wasn't fair. He was supposed to have a good day; that's what his dreams usually meant…something different to the normal drudge of the day.

A disturbance somewhere up ahead caught Shing's attention, drawing him from his melancholy. It was a scraping noise, like a rake against the cold ground. Shing froze as the answer to his unspoken question turned the corner. The being was small and maneuverable, perfectly built for her crafty job. Long claws for digging into the earth and holding onto her catch were wrapped around a rope, which she dragged carelessly behind her. Pointed ears popped out from rows of black hair, and her gray skin brought out the eerie yellow of her cat-like eyes. Shing shivered at her presence, for she was not one of the more tolerable nobles of the palace. They jeered and sneered, but they hid what they truly were beneath. But the worst flaunted what they were, and the monster before him was one of those. She was a Hunter.

She was a trained assassin, a killer and a professional tracker. Even the other monsters around her in the hall moved away from her with caution. Behind her trailed her prey. A sac covered the head, but from the features, Shing could tell it was a woman. Where the rope was tied roughly around her hands he could already see the red irritation, and her knees were scraped and bleeding. She walked forlornly, like a guilty man headed towards the gallows. Shing knew her fate was not far from such a thing. Abruptly, the Hunter pulled on the rope, and like a house of thin cards, her catch plummeted to the ground.

Blonde hair, brighter than any Shing had ever seen, poured forth as the sac fell from her head. Too shocked to move, Shing gazed at the liquid gold and could only take his eyes away from when he saw hers. They were so beautiful; azure-blue eyes like the clear skies in his dreams, and like none he had ever seen before. She smiled at him feebly, like a frail beat of a butterfly’s wing, and his heart seemed to stop. She filled the dark hall with color, and every person and monster stopped to stare at such a thing. Her light died out however, as once more the Hunter placed the foul sac over her head. Shing could feel the yellow eyes on him, but dared not look up.

"Do not look upon the walking dead," the Hunter uttered; her voice low and deadly.

He didn't dare move until the Hunter and her prey were long gone and the warmth returned to his veins. The dam was broken, and the hall began to move once more, but this time there was a buzz of excited chatter, but he hardly heard any of it. Shing bolted down the hall and out of the palace, his thoughts racing about the woman of gold and blue.

+++

Shing reached the Slave Quarters as fast as he could. He knew where most would be at this hour and didn’t stop until he reached the common hut. It was a run down building like all the rest, but it held a magic that could make it a finer place than the queen’s own chambers. Most of the children and some adults were gathered there when he arrived, and out of the crowd he found his closest friends.

“Aleksei!” he yelled the name, and the whole room seemed to turn at his high voice.

"Shing…what's wrong?" Ben asked as he approached.

"She...the Hunter...I saw-"

"Settle down there," an old voice added to the mix. From the outside came three hunched over figures, clothed in heavy cloaks and even greater mystery. Two men with hair as white as snow flanked a woman with black hair turned grey. They were the oldest in the Quarters and perhaps the oldest human beings left on this wretched Earth. No one knew from whence they sprang, but one day long ago, it was them who began to tell the tales of humanity’s lost history, and filled this hall with magic and wonder. The old crone, known as the Eldest of the Elders, chuckled as she was gently helped to her seat with the two other Elders. "What is it, young one?"

Shing took a few deep breaths. "I saw a Hunter before I came here. She had a woman tied up, one like I've never seen before. There was a sac over her head, and I only got to see the woman for a few moments. But the Hunter, she -- she told me to not look at the walking dead."

"A Hunter, you say? Hm, perhaps her prey was an Underling." Those around gasped at the name and a few shared excited words.

"We haven't heard of a captured Underling for a long time," Aleksei observed. "I wonder what has urged them forth from the safety of Serenitas now. They have been so careful as to stay away from the queen’s grasp."

"Can you tell us about Serenitas, Grandma?" one of the younger children asked, using their fond name for the Elder.

"Of course, gather 'round my dears." Instantly they sat upon the floor before her, the children staring at her with wide, loving eyes. They did not understand what this occurrence meant like the older children and adults around the room, but the Elders didn’t seem too keen on discussing the topic at the moment. Shing thought his news would send up a greater outburst, but he personally couldn’t get the woman out of his mind; her blue eyes and her small smile took precedent in his thoughts.

"Aleksei, I'm-I'm sorry about today," Shing apologized as he sat down.

"Don't be," Aleksei whispered. "Only promise me you will be careful next time, okay?"

Shing nodded silently, and with a grateful sigh, focused his attention back on the old woman. "Serenitas is unlike anywhere on this shattered Earth. The fields of broken and frozen land that surround this city are bright with fresh grass and large trees in Serenitas. Waterfalls of clear, crystal water rush over purple mountains. Children laugh and play with animals large and small and run freely through soft grass and budding trees. You can smell fresh herbs and honey on the warm wind. It is said Serenitas exists beneath our feet and in the caves somewhere deep and hidden. Others say it is a place that exists nowhere and everywhere; it is a magical place only of make believe. But we believe it truly exists, and all of us will someday find ourselves in that paradise. Serenitas is under the guidance of three mystical beings that plan each day to bring their wonderland to our doorstep. It is said they are gathering a powerful army to rid this land of its evil."

"Grandma, what's stopping them?"

"The leaders of Serenitas lost something very precious to them. Something that alone has the power to save us all. Until it is found, they can only keep searching and pray to find their Hope. And truly, it is the hope of us all. If Serenitas can never find this power…perhaps it is why they have come from the safety of their land; to search again before it is too late."

"Are they truly real?" a boy asked.

"Of course…! Shing just saw an Underling today!" an indignant girl answered.

"Why do you think this Underling came out of hiding?" Aleksei asked, and they all became quiet under the timbre of his deep and serious voice.

"Perhaps this woman made a careless mistake while she came to search for their Hope," an older boy suggested.

"Great good that'll do her in the dungeons," Ben drawled.

"Perhaps..." the Eldest seemed to ponder for a moment, her dark faded eyes shimmering with her private thoughts. “Enough of this talk. A discussion of this nature will better suit the adults in their weekly council, yes? And there is nothing we can do for now. I have tales to tell you; one of a wide, orange canyon as long as the eye can see and one about a giant emerald woman that welcomed the world..."

+++

“So you got a good look at this Underling, huh Shing?” Ben asked as they left the common house behind. The dirt road crunched and shifted beneath their tattered shoes as they made for their humble home not far away.

Shing felt a chill from the cooling night air run up his pant legs and shivered slightly, wrapping his skinny arms around himself. “Yes, I did.”

“And?” probed Ben.

“She…she had bright blonde hair, brighter than anyone’s I’ve ever seen. It was even brighter than Annaliese’s,” Shing said, mentioning a girl not much older than Aleksei. “And her eyes…they were bluer than the Eldest’s eyes, like the skies I’ve seen only in my dreams and sometimes in the fabric of the nobles. There was something magical about her…are the Underlings magical?”

“I don’t think so, Shing,” Aleksei answered. “I think they are people just like us. If they had some magic like the queen and the lords, I doubt they would get caught at all.”

“I wonder what will happen to her,” Ben spoke up. “No one has ever heard of an Underling ever leaving the palace. Some people say they are fed to the Hunters when they are of no more use to anyone.”

“Ben…” Aleksei rolled his eyes at his younger friend.

“From the sounds of Shing’s description, she seems awfully pretty. Maybe they’ll keep her around, give her to one of the four lords as another mistress or something. Like Irin-” Ben paused, seeing the smoldering disapproval in Aleksei’s eyes.

Shing walked with his head down, his feet shuffling through the dirt absentmindedly, and didn’t notice his friends’ awkwardness. “Just like Ben; always looking on the bright side,” he muttered.

They arrived at their catty cornered house; it’s worn down wooden finish cracked and scarred. Emerald lightning shimmered in the darkness, casting the black clouds in even uglier shades. Beside Shing, Ben sighed. “It’s hard to see any bright side here, Shing.”

The young boy with dark hair and dark eyes was inclined to agree as they stepped into their crowded house. A family of six lived with the three orphaned boys; a single mother with four screaming children and an old grandmother that rarely left her bed. The mother seemed always in disarray; her long black hair was usually tied back by a handkerchief, and there were perpetual stains on her apron. Yet she was beautiful and young still, although worry lines were slowly inching their way onto her tinted face.

“Hello, Mei,” Aleksei greeted her, and she gave him a weary smile as a young toddler tried to climb his way up her leg. Aleksei reached down to hug one of Mei’s oldest daughters who was seven, as she came near to give him a hug. “And hello Su Yi. How are you today?”

“Good, look what I drew!” She held up a tattered piece of paper with an image of a strange animal with a long nose and pointed ears. It was only drawn in one color; a piece of coal she had found outside was the improper utensil, but Aleksei admired it nonetheless.

“It’s very lovely…what is that animal?”

“It’s a horse! The Eldest Elder told us about them, and I dreamed of one!”

“Your bath water is ready,” Mei interrupted. “I put the last kettle in only a few moments ago. You should hurry before it gets cold.”

“Thank you, Mei,” the boys chorused together.

“Ah, second bath of the month. I forgot,” Ben said.

“You’ll wait your turn,” Aleksei winked and disappeared behind a closed off corner of the house. A modest curtain was the only thing that separated the bathroom from the rest of the house and was the only privacy the residence had from one another.

By the time both Aleksei and Ben had taken their turns, the water was frigid and dirty for Shing. But regardless, he climbed in, shivering as his legs sank beneath the murky liquid. He let his thoughts turn to the golden haired woman in an attempt to ignore the cold bath. He wondered what her life had been like before this when she lived in Serenitas. If the Elders were to be believed, it was a heaven compared to this dark world. She must have shone in that other world; it was evident she didn’t belong here. Shing scrubbed his skin from the grim of the last two weeks and as quick as he could, he got up and out of the chilly tub.

Ben and Aleksei were already in their beds when he crept across the room and slipped beneath his sheets. The cot was not very comfortable, but the warmth of the blankets was a welcomed release, and Shing knew he would have no trouble finding things to dream about tonight. His eyes closed to the sound of Mei’s quiet singing as she soothed her many children to sleep, and dreamed of a land with golden valleys and blue skies, none like he had ever seen.

+++

Inside the palace, far away from poverty and pain, another man’s world was on fire. In his mind, a forest of bright red flames pushed into the sky like excited worshipers praising the dark night. He could feel the heat in his veins, pulsing like liquid fire into his heavy heart. Voices echoed in his ears, soft whispers to loud exclamations, as the flames cracked and pitched. In such a foreboding place nothing could survive, but he knew with shocking clarity that he was not alone.

A dark silhouette appeared before him within the flames, a sultry apparition with womanly curves as dangerous as the inferno itself. She stalked towards him, her haunted frame outlined in wispy threads of fire that flowed behind her like a train. She was nothingness itself, pure darkness touched by a ghostly holocaust, but she made his heart pound as she approached. She pressed against his mind, his soul, his body, wanting entrance to everything that he was in this world and the next. It was a frightening demand she possessed, one only a truth lover or enemy could command so powerfully. He knew he was not favored enough for it to be the first.

'What do you want?' he called out, his voice broken. She halted, standing feet away as the flames grew longer and heavier. Louder than the crackling of the firestorm, he could hear her voice shouting his name over and over again within his mind. It was at times desperate and pleading, righteous and indignant, but above all familiar. He strained to remember that voice, but it remained stubbornly on the edge of his conscience. He looked into her face where eyes should have been, but nonetheless he could feel those invisible orbs burning into his being just the same. She reached out and the flames leapt to his skin, igniting his skin so it began to boil and crack before his gaze.

'Wake up,' she whispered.

He shot out of bed, his heavy breath quickly lifting his chest, and startled the sleeping form beside him. His mistress gave a shout of surprise and long brown hair fell away from her pale shoulders as she sat up in the plush bed. She looked at him to find his eyes were haunted, so much so it brought concern to her own amethyst eyes. She extended a hand, but he stiffened at the intrusion, pulling away from her touch.

“Neph-”

"Get out, Irinushka," he ordered roughly, his voice filled with deep aggravation.

Silently, she obeyed, dressing herself before making a quiet exit. He didn't even hear her leave, but knew by the pressing cold that he was alone. With his eyes closed, he sat still upon the bed for a few moments. He retreated to the safety of the stars, letting the dark energy of space stabilize his distorted thoughts. Everything was still in the emptiness of space, quiet and composed. And in its vast immensity his problems always seemed so negligible. When he felt at peace, he opened his eyes and greeted the new day.

It was three hours before midnight, or so his timepiece told him. The view from his windows was always deceiving. The dark churning mass of clouds was indistinguishable from those he had looked upon the day before, and for that matter, every other day, making it easy to get lost in time. He had caught himself more than once over the years being pulled into its oblivion, the darkness playing tricks on even his mind.

He pulled himself free from the tangled sheets and padded across his soft and luxurious carpet to the next room. The cold, clean water felt like a slap to the face, but it helped soothe the burning of his dreams. As water dripped from his prominent face, he stared into his reflection in the gold laced mirror. It had just been a dream, but it seemed as if he could still feel the heat on his skin. Dreams always meant a little more to him. Her figure was haunting, but always familiar, as if he had felt her touch once before. The fire concerned him more than anything else. Fire meant passion, anger, revenge, and for the first time in a long time, the powerful warrior had felt his heart jump in fear.

He was not accustomed to feeling fear. He was an overlord of this Earth, answering only to his dark queen of many centuries. The dream had plagued him twice before, however, and he had ignored its heat once, but it now raged with a fiery vengeance too strong to ignore. Things were changing within their empire and within their hearts as well. He knew he was the first and most effected, for he was always more sensitive to such spiritual attacks than the rest. He could hear the whispers caressing his ears again, and the distant screams moving ever closer, freezing the air within his lungs. Flames were flickering within, the sensation moving beneath his skin in waves. He looked back at the mirror, finding her featureless face staring back at him, surrounded by an angry corona of fire.

He cursed, pulling his eyes away from the disturbing visage in the mirror. Once more, fear overwhelmed him as he fought for breath and fled the bathroom. A series of heavy and quick footsteps moved across the bedroom floor towards the balcony doors. Roughly, he forced them open. A bleak day and dark horizon greeted his eyes. He exhaled. The fire under his skin disappeared as the cold wind whisked it away, but he could not forget the cause.

"What is this...?" He whispered coarsely. Hands tightened around the banister until his knuckles turned white. He was losing his grip slowly, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Something was getting through, something hidden deep within, stirring with growing power. Something was calling to him that not even the stars, his guidance and protectors for many lifetimes, could predict.

'Wake up.'

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