Part One: Water

Kela bolted awake. He was trembling uncontrollably. The prophecy was back…Back to haunt him after twenty-one years. The telling of his destiny had returned from the depths of his subconscious to lay waste to him once again.

Kela sighed and rubbed the back of his head. This project was obviously putting some strain on him. That was it…No prophecy had ever been right. Why would he of all people be the 'chosen'? The idea was insane. That woman hadn't known what she was talking about. His own mother doubted her abilities. Why believe in a twenty-one year old prophecy?

The prophecy had not even been its full length. The full prophecy contained deeper horrors and more details. …His destiny was one that had no sure ending. Would he fulfill it or would he fail?

A greenish light shone within the control room. A tone alerted him that his master was calling him. He sprinted up to the view screen and pressed a green button. He panted as the figure of his Lord and Master appeared on the view screen. His Master crossed his arms, which were covered by robes of crushed velvet.

"I do not enjoy waiting, Kela," The figure of his Master said, a scowl across his unseen face. "This must take place before the New Year or all is lost," The hooded figure said, impatiently.

"I-I apologize My Lord! I-it shall never happen again. Forgive me!" Kela sank to the floor, sobbing pitifully.

His Master rolled his eyes, annoyed, and waited for his servant to gain control of himself. "I shall forgive you, but only if you promise not to do that again," He looked at Kela who nodded. He wrinkled his nose with disdain at the pathetic form of his servant before asking: "Is the demon ready?"

Kela, finally gaining control over his emotions, said, "Yes, My Lord. The demon is ready to test Water. If she fails, her Ki will return to us for training. If she succeeds she will be transported here."

"And what of the others?"

"They are friends with her, My Lord."

"We shall have an easier time then," The hooded figure mused. "We can take them all within days!"

"Yes, My Lord," Kela said, bowing deeply. He couldn't let this interfere with his duties. The prophecy meant nothing…nothing at all.

"And this is my impression of Professor Thatch…" A figure said, grinning. "Who reminds me very much of Heather sometimes. With the whole serious look and the reading glasses!"

Heather looked up at the mention of her name. She stared into the eyes of Micah. The brown eyes on his face seemed to grin at her; they glistened with a mischievous twinkle. His short, black hair blew in the breeze. His bare arms were adorned with small cuts and scars that stood out against his dark skin. He smiled at Heather's puzzled look and pointed to the group behind Heather.

The black haired boy grinned and exclaimed, "I've done it! We've made contact with the World of Heather!"

"Ha, ha, ha…Very funny, Micah," Heather said in her best sarcastic tone. (She had been working on it for years and she had finally mastered it.) "Do you guys really think I'm like Professor Thatch? The man hates me! I loathe him, but that's different. He insists that my stories are unlikely and too gory. Gore is history; history is gore! Do I remind you of him that much?" She asked the group.

Erin, her black hair blowing around her face, shook her head. She was grinning which added to Heather's skepticism. Her eyes glowing with pure veracity, Erin closed the manga she had been engrossed in and looked up at Heather. "If I thought you looked or acted like him, I'd would tell you!" She said, grinning happily.

Lauren's brown hair whipped around her in the breeze as she said, "Don't listen to Micah at all. He doesn't know what he's talking about." She crossed her arms and glared daggers at the remainder of the group. Her eyes burned with the fury they were more than accustomed to.

"You only remind me of him due to your sarcastic remarks," Wesley said. His face was now breaking into a grin. He pointed at Reid and Kent and spoke loudly. "They're a different matter, however." His dark eyes glinted with a sadistic humor as he looked at Reid and Kent squirm.

Kent rolled his eyes and ran his hands through his sandy hair nervously. "Okay, fine. You only remind me of him because Reid put the picture into my mind." His face broke into a sheepish grin as Heather raised her eyebrows.

'I'll just kill Reid then…' Heather thought to herself as she turned to the last member of the group.

Beads of sweat were running down Reid's forehead as Heather glared at him. His shaggy black hair covered his eyes as he whimpered, "I'm sorry! You just remind me of him! I put the image in Micah's mind!"

Heather rolled her eyes and turned back to her writing. "It's okay, Reid. You remind me of Professor Musihara anyway. You know, the one who enjoys…Well, you'll figure it out. You may be her next victim," She said, chuckling to herself. "Now if you'll excuse me, this story is going to torture me until I finish it."

The rest of the group sighed but went back to their original business. Erin reopened her manga, Kent and Reid flipped through a magazine, Wesley muttered something about the evils of World Geography to Micah and Lauren reopened a book as someone called out.

"Watch it Micah!" Came a familiar voice from behind him.

Turning around too late, the last thing he saw was a softball. His friends behind him were laughing. Reid and Wesley were practically in tears, clutching their sides. Kent, Lauren and Erin were trying their hardest not to laugh. Heather looked up from her writing. The sight she saw was one that would make anyone laugh hysterically. Micah, who was trying to stand up at the time, was hit by yet another softball and was now lying face down in the grass. The group, minus Heather, was now in tears; Reid and Wesley were rolling on the ground.

Heather stood up and rushed over to Micah, who was twitching a bit. "Are you okay, Micah?" She asked him.

"I'll…live, I think…." He said, rubbing his head, and gingerly getting to his feet.

"Micah!" Came the familiar voice again. "Are you okay?"

Michelle ran towards the group, her long, black hair flowing about her. She stopped in front of Micah and looked at him with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I…live…Michelle," He said smiling in a dazed manner.

Heather chuckled and turned to Michelle. "You might've hit that ball a little too hard," She said, smiling. "He should live, though," she said as she pushed the mumbling Micah back towards the group. She waved to Michelle and snickered, "Priceless…Idiocy and Micah meet once again!"

The group had found tissues and were dabbing their eyes. Heather helped Micah sit down on the bench and turned toward the group, grinning.

"Pay up guys!"

"Huh?"

"I won our bet!" She said. "Michelle hit him with a softball," She dug into her pocket and pulled out a piece of stationery, adorned with little wizard hats. "She didn't hit him with a rock, golf ball, Frisbee, basketball or a whip." Heather looked up at the group, a shocked look on her face. "Who the hell said that?"

Wesley raised his hand, chuckling lewdly. Micah, massaging the back of his head, looked shocked. His voice raised he asked,

"You make bets about me?"

"They do," Erin said smiling and pointing at the group. "I don't. This was the first one. It was an interesting topic."

"It was Kent's idea, Micah!" Heather said, pointing at him. "This is the first one I participated in. Speaking of…Where's my money?" She demanded.

Grumbling, the group handed several bills to Heather. She counted them and stuffed them in her back pocket, a broad grin across her face.

"I didn't start this bet. It was Reid's idea," Kent said, pointing at Reid. "He's the one with the dirty mind."

Collectively the group rolled their eyes and muttered, "Yeah right." (It was a well-known fact that only Micah rivaled Kent's dirty mind. That was probably what made them friends.)

"It was Reid's idea," Wesley added. "But we all know how dirty Kent's mind is. He started the first one…the one about…Um, well…" Wesley went red and whispered to Micah.

He too went rather red as Kent and Reid chuckled. Erin and Lauren were beyond clueless, exchanging puzzled looks. Heather buried her face in her hands as if embarrassed to even know them.

"So, how did you find out what…size they were?" Micah asked curiously.

"They broke into her dorm…They bribed me for crying out loud! I helped them for twenty dollars!" Heather said, her cheeks tinged with red.

"And?" Micah prodded.

"Well…" Wesley whispered again to Micah. His eyes widened and he looked like his wildest dreams were answered. He grinned madly as Michelle walked off towards the locker rooms.

"Boys…" Heather muttered, shaking her head.

Kela's pale blue eyes scanned the screen, looking for a specific file. His young face showed signs of age. Lines of stress were splattered across his pale face. His brown hair was flecked with gray. It hung down to the base of his neck where the excess was tied back with a black piece of fabric. He was built shorter than most, his height only five-foot seven, but within the confinements of his height he held something greater. A wisdom unsurpassed by very few. He held the key to the revival of Arck's saviors.

Finally finding the file he was searching for, he clicked on it and pulled up two photos and various bits of information that was complied into a vague biography. He looked over it, curious as to what details it would reveal.

Name: Heather

Date of Birth: July 18, 1989

Age: 21

Height: 5'10"

Eye Color: Hazel

Blood Type: Currently unknown

Status: Alive, residing on planet Earth; 9.6 million light years

Designation: Guardian of the Shrine of Water, Guard of the Eternal Spring, and Keeper of Memories

Position: Leader; First in Command

Elemental Weaknesses: Ice, Sun, Moon, Electricity, Snow, and Poison

Elemental Strengths: Fire, Minerals, Earth, Life, Wind and Time

As much sense as this made to Kela-though he was sure it would confuse anyone else-he sighed at the lack of information and turned to the photographs. One file contained photos of a girl, her body clothed by robes of dark blue with intricate embroidery around the hems. Her hair was brown and curly. It hung to her shoulders and framed her pale, slightly freckled face perfectly. Her hazel eyes shimmered with a mysterious glint as though she were hiding something. She was very tall and had a curvy body; a body that was quite contrary to what one may have expected. Black gloves made of tough, rough material that looked like leather covered her hands and brown, heeled boots were barely visible underneath the layers of her robes.

She held a scythe in her left hand. It's handle of steel rose to her chin and the blade of diamond extended near two feet out before curving to a deadly point. On the handle were the Runes, the writings sacred to the ancestors of the civilization of Arck. They told of betrayal by the gods and how eight brave warriors sealed them at the eight corners of their world. The seals had never yet been broken but the gods still existed, cursing the descendants of the warriors.

'How ironic…' Kela mused silently to himself. 'The very same thing happened to us…And now our race is slowly dying out. They will turn Arck into Jisu if we don't hurry. They will kill us all once their work is complete. We must work fast.'

Kela pulled up another file. Several more photographs filled this one. The appeared to be of the same girl, but she wore different pieces of clothing and her still hazel eyes showed melancholy. They were deeper in color and had more feeling to them. If eyes truly were the window to the soul, her soul was a troubled place, where feelings raged war against each other, fighting to not be felt. The very stare of them from within the photo, the piercing stare which gave Kela the chills, unnerved him and filled him with a feeling of wishing the Guardian of Water would turn out to be someone else. The one who currently held her powers, although her exact double seemed to have ventured further into the Darkness than she had been when Kela first met her.

A great feeling of dread consumed Kela, as he looked deeper into the file. Not only did the photos show the true darkness behind this girl, but also her writing and journal entries probed deeper into her mind than even Kela could withstand. Although the writings were mild at the beginning, as the girl progressed in age the darker they became. Kela imagined it was due to the life she had originally lived. The memories had slowly started to resurface a month before her fourteenth birthday, but had these memories imprinted this deeply on her? Had the weight of the ten years of the horror she had witnessed as the Guardian of Water damaged her psyche that much?

Kela silently closed the files and left the control room. He walked through the passages of the station, wishing this day had never come. Wishing, in all honesty, that the saviors of his planet did not have to save them. The weight of what they had already been through had clearly made its mark. Their souls were damned from the minute they took their positions. Rulers of such a war-torn planet would be expected to live a dark life but as the twenty-first year of their lives slowly approached, they were thrust into something that Kela could hardly stomach himself. One by one they were slowly killed. If their deaths were witnessed or not it didn't matter; killed one by one so the planet could be taken without more resistance than needed.

Kela pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he turned the corner. Within the room, the glass door in front of him blocked, lay the first step to free the planet from its torment. To free this step from its shackles was to seal the fate of the eight guardians. To ensure that either they would free the planet from the chains of imprisonment or die trying. Was it really Kela's place to decide the fate of these eight people? Was it really his place to condemn them to death if they failed to complete the task at hand?

Kela hesitated for a moment. The words of his Master echoed within his mind.'This must take place before the New Year or all is lost.' So what if it did get lost…? Kela's mind slowly entwined itself around a new, unseen possibility. What would happen if he failed to commence with the plan? What could possibly be worse than condemning eight souls to death once again? Why hadn't he thought of this before?!

'It won't work. They were reborn for one purpose and one purpose alone, to save Arck. Not letting their destiny commence will just be giving up on your people…And killing them once again…Can you truly bear this responsibility?' His mind spoke from within him. It was speaking the truth. Yet…Kela could not bear the truth. The truth had always been too much to stomach, too much to withstand. 'You understand then why you must do this? You must do this for the good of us all…'

Kela, although he didn't want to, although he would've defied the great powers of Shirahime or Hamako to be free of this burden, walked through the glass door into a small room.

The walls were adorned in shelves of books, manuscripts and intricate objects. Although the room was decorated like a study, with plush armchairs, writing desks and a dormant hearth at the far edge of the room, it held an object of destruction; the one that would set this entire plan into motion. The Demon of Water would turn the gears of this mission. He was the one who would be sent to recover the Guardian of Water from her current location.

He stood in the center of the room within a cylinder of glass. A liquid of green enclosed him in a hibernation-like sleep. It slopped around the demon like water as Kela stepped cautiously forward. He walked around the cylinder until he came to a small pedestal. A panel displaying the demon's current state and housing hundreds of little buttons, dials and blinking little lights stood before him. Kela's breaths came out in nervous wheezes as he pressed several blue and black buttons and watched as the life-signs of the demon slowly returned to normal.

Kela watched, numb with fascination and horror, as the fingers of the demon's right hand twitched and flexed into a fist. The limp fingers of the demon's left hand slowly enclosed tightly around a staff carved solely out of diamond. Kela's breath caught in his throat as the green liquid slowly drained and the eyes of the demon opened. The capsule sank down into the carpeted floor and the demon emerged slowly from his prison.

The blood-red irises of the demon's eyes shone with the light reflected upon them from a nearby torch. Protruding from the short, black hair covering the demon's head were two short, white-as-death horns. They grew out at an angle before curving up. The skin of the demon was pallid and looked even paler against the robes of black material that clothed his body. His robes brushed the floor with their hems and covered his hands up to the fingers. Most noticeable about the demon were the two wings that grew from his back. They were bat-like and towered a half-foot above his horns. The insides were a tone of red, much like his irises and the outsides were a deep black that paled his robes. Kela winced as he noticed that the diamond staff the demon wielded was stained with what was unmistakably blood.

Kela swallowed hard and his voice shaking asked, "Y-you understand your mission t-then?"

"I do," The demon said in a whispery voice, much like that of freezing water. "But, I'd like to know the purpose and reason for it, however."

Kela, uncertainly, nodded and led the demon to the control room.

'Gods…What have I gotten myself into?'

Reid passed a note, in the middle of Professor Cronus' lecture about the recent events surrounding an East Asian country, to Heather. She carefully opened it and read Reid's untidy scrawl.

Heather,

Wesley suggested getting together to study for the test in World Geography tomorrow. He was wondering if we could borrow your dorm. I get the feeling he doesn't want the sacred nature of his dorm destroyed by us. Do you mind?

Reid

Heather dug for a pen, keeping her eyes on the professor. She managed to get stabbed by unknown sharp objects in her bag before finally finding her favorite black-inked pen. She wrote a quick note to Reid and reread it as Cronus turned to write something on the black board.

Reid,

His dorm is sacred, since when? Wesley only wants to come over to my dorm to study because I'm acing that class. He just doesn't want to admit it. But tell him it's okay. Let him know 7:00 is the best time. I'll have started studying by then. I choose to take Professor Valoka's warnings seriously. I'll tell Erin, Micah and Kent in my next class. You, my dear Reidy, get to tell Lauren. Aren't you lucky? Have fun. Best wishes and I hope she doesn't kill you…

Heather

As she passed the note to Reid, her eyes were still fixed on the professor. She began taking notes as Reid poked her in the right arm, a livid look on his face. Heather merely grinned and turned back to her notes, a smile plastered on her face. They day was looking up so far.

Erin, Micah and Kent liked the idea very much, although Kent thought it a bit weird that Wesley would admit his…'failure' at World Geography. Erin thought it best that he finally admitted his failure at something. Heather was inclined to agree. It's not that Wesley was too arrogant (though there was no doubting he was) he seemed to gloat too much at his accomplishments and blame his failures on others. Not only was it annoying, it resulted in long explanations that always ended up blaming Micah. Micah had gotten used to it in their Junior year in high school, but everyone else, all his classmates included, felt like wringing his neck when he launched into these explanations. Heather had nearly succeeded once, but realized that Wesley still owed her money and satisfied herself in giving him a very nasty bruise instead.

"Who else is coming?" Micah asked curiously.

"Reid and Lauren. I think that's it," Heather grinned as she looked at the Chemistry building. "I could pull some strings. Get someone else to come. I have connections," She said, ignoring Kent's snort of laughter.

"Who might this 'someone else' be?" Micah asked, staring off in the same direction.

"Let's think about this for a minute," Kent muttered, rolling his eyes in a very annoyed manner.

"Yes. It's one of the hardest things in the world. Black hair, plays softball, is Micah's purpose for existence, at least he seems to think so anyway."

"If you want me to, Micah, I can. We have the next class together," Heather said, looking at her watch. "I'm giving you ten seconds. Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…" She looked up at Micah. "Five…four…three—willing to pass this up are we, love? —two—"

"Okay! Just don't make it too obvious," Micah said, going slightly red.

"Moi? Make it obvious? Think of who you're talking to!" Heather grinned.

"I am. Do you remember the last time?"

The last time had been, Micah claimed, greatly above a disaster. Wesley still looked back on it for a laugh, but Heather had to admit it was bad. Micah had made a complete fool of himself asking Michelle to a dance of some nature. She had, to everyone surprise, including Micah's, said yes. He had asked two people's advice, these two people being Heather and Wesley. It would have been less disastrous had the advice not contradicted itself. Had some things been the same, everyone figured it wouldn't have turned out so bad. Little did he know, however, Wesley wasn't much of an advice giver. His so-called "advice" made Micah look like an idiot. Heather's advice on the other hand, coupled with Wesley's, made him look like a proper idiot rather than the full idiot he could have been. Due to this lovely little incident, Micah had been quite hesitant on taking advice from either of them but seemed to always fail at this.

"It could have been worse," Erin pointed out. "At least yours actually had rhythm… My date was a terrible dancer and spilled punch on me!"

"Your date wasn't Lauren," Kent moaned. "That was the worst evening of my life." He smacked his forehead in embarrassment. "I wanted to die right there."

"You could've told us," Heather smirked. "We would've helped you for sure." She thought for a minute and frowned. "But your dates weren't Wesley, now were they? I don't know why I said yes. He asked me out of desperation. I could've gone with the guy who enjoys the Horatio Hornblower series, but no! I was stupid and went with Wesley!"

Heather stood in silence for a moment. She blinked in confusion. Erin's face was pale; Kent seemed to be biting his tongue in an attempt not to laugh, Micah was snickering and pointing behind Heather. She came to the sudden realization and went very red. "Wesley's right behind me…Isn't he?"

"Right you are…" Wesley's voice came from behind her.

"May I plead insanity?"

"If you must…" He said sternly before sighing. "All in favor of laughing at Heather's faux pas?"

Heather muttered something about making things worse than they were and how wonderful something called karma was as the people around her said "Aye!"

The day was suddenly plummeting down to the bowels of the Earth. The day couldn't pick itself up again. Little did Heather know she was very right.

The demon's icy voice sent chills up and down Kela's spine. If those red irises weren't so pitiless he wouldn't be that terribly frightening. If his eyes had showed some form of emotion, other than hate, perhaps Kela's voice wouldn't have shook do much. If his right hand hadn't flexed into a fist so often perhaps Kela wouldn't have been tempted to flee from the room. And most of all, had the demon's staff not been stained in blood perhaps Kela wouldn't have been terrified out of his wits as they entered the control room.

"What are the girl's weaknesses?" The demon asked in his chilling voice.

"H-her f-friends. A-as it once w-was it is yet again, she cares too much f-for their well-being," Kela said, his voice shaking violently. "S-she is also n-not impulsive. She r-refuses to jump right into t-things. S-she thinks things t-through. M-much unlike her former s-self." 'Damn…Is showing even the slightest bit of courage so hard?' His mind shouted at him.

"There is no need to fear me, Mortal. It is not my position to kill you…yet. If it is what is wished of me I will. Your cries of pain and suffering will be so wonderful," The demon said his eyes alight with a malevolent fury. "The only one I wish to kill at the moment is—"

"You won't kill her! She's vital to our—"

"Not her, Mortal! The one who killed her in the first place; if not for him we would not be in this situation." The demon glared at Kela. "I shall be leaving now."

"Don't damage her too greatly! You know how vital she is!"

"I do. And I shall only damage her as much as is necessary." The demon bowed to Kela and slid into the shadows. His black wings closed around him like a cape. He became droplets of water, which fell to the ground and vanished; he was gone.

'Gods…Please keep her safe. I do not yet trust him…Is this really what is right? I do not remember her telling me he was so…bloodthirsty. She said he was kind and benevolent. That he only harmed those who threatened the peace of Arck. She said nothing of this thirst for bloodshed. She never mentioned that death and killing was his solace. Can they really be the same? Is he now what he once was?'

Kela sat in front of the main computer. He lay his head upon the keyboard and closed his eyes. Fatigue swept over him in an unstoppable wave. The sleep crept over him like a silent, undetectable poison. He didn't notice the nine figures that slowly crept into the control room. The sleep blocked it all out.

"What should we do with him? We should kill him now. No one will hear his scream—" A dagger slowly emerged from a shadow. It crept its way slowly towards Kela's neck…

"No! Leave him be." The dagger brushed the skin. "Sai! Lay a single finger on him and I'll kill you myself." It was slowly pulled back into the shadows.

"But Shirahime…He's so utterly weak…and defenseless. Can't I just—?" Sai's black eyes shone with a hunger, a hunger for blood.

"No! You heard her, Sai. Let him be. He may be weak and defenseless but he is part of the plan. Besides, it's wrong to attack a sleeping foe." A new voice emerged from the shadows. The owner of the voice brushed his pale blue hair out of his eyes as he spoke.

"When did you get in touch with your morality, Hamako? I thought it had been wiped away…like your brains." The new speaker cackled and grinned as Hamako glared at her, unable to do anything. If he even tried, even dove at the speaker, Shirahime's wrath would be unleashed upon him.

"Arisu…Hamako, there is no need for this idiocy. Stop it now or I shall let Shirahime kill you both," The new voice contained annoyance and seemed bored.

Arisu frowned but nodded. She glared at Hamako, none the less, with hatred that filled the room.

"Are you done yet Mao? We have no time for this tinkering."

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying. This is a delicate process. One wrong imput code and we're all dead, Makoda. There's no use in rushing this."

"Well, you could at the very least type faster. It never killed anyone to—"

"If I type too fast and make a mistake we die! Are you unable to grasp this?! I mistype and we all die, Tamoko. I don't want to die, I hope you don't either."

"Just leave him be, Mao. He'll grasp it at some point," The last figure said softly to his brother.

Mao typed in the final password and the mainframe opened up. He moved away from the keyboard and smirked triumphantly.

"I leave you to your hacking, Shirahime."

"Hacking? It's a much more detailed process. Besides, regarding who they've found first, I may not be the one doing all of the searching."

"Just hurry," The annoyed voice said shortly. "The demon will return soon. I know who they have found. It should be quite obvious to the rest of you as well."

"I'm hurrying, Father." Shirahime clicked on several different files before finding the right one. She clicked on the file labeled 'Project Omega Beta' and several files were pulled up. "The Guardian of Water…They chose the one who fell last first. Curious."

"There's nothing curious about it at all. It's the simple matter of choosing the one who is most pathetic. She betrayed her friends for her own well being. How is that not shameful?" Sai asked the eight others in the room.

"There's nothing shameful in betraying ones friends for their own good," Hamako grinned. "I'm surprised she did so, however. She seemed like the type who would do anything, anything at all for her friends."

"She was. Up until the last moments of her life," The annoyed voice said traces of slight remorse lacing his voice. "I did not want to kill her, but I found she would never break. Never fall to me entirely."

"Look at her weaknesses! She could fall victim to so many of us!" Makoda grinned.

"She's mine. My power rivals her own to all extremities. It's my right to kill her!"

"Then do so, Hamako. If it is your right, follow your right," The annoyed voice said once more, disgust drowning the words.

"I plan to."

A tapping on the door awoke Heather from the dream. It had been the one that had haunted her since she turned fourteen. A hooded figure, a consuming darkness, not able to get away…Death and rebirth. It was a dream that seemed like a memory, a memory of a past life, a memory of past events. But how was that possible? Reincarnation was one of her beliefs but how was it possible that ones memories carried on to the next life?

The dream had been clearer than ever. She could feel the breath of the figure. Feel his skin caress her own. Feel his lips upon hers. Feel his hand upon her own…And feel it caress her skin lovingly. She could almost see his face…What did he look like? She could feel the fear and the longing for death. Feel his longing for her…Who was he? What did he want? She could hear voices from outside the darkness. Voices that raised memories, voices of those she fought to remember. Who were they? They seemed so familiar.

"Heather! I know it's early but it's Wesley. Can I come in?" The tapping grew louder.

Heather closed her eyes and fought to remember. What did he look like? Faces like none she had never seen flashed before her eyes. Their voices echoed through her memories. They surrounded her and fought to be heard, fought to be remembered. Chills crept up her spine as images of death flashed before her like lightning. They seemed so close yet so far away…She wanted to grab onto them, to embrace them. To remember them…

"Heather!"

Reality consumed her. The images were gone. All she could see was her dorm, the same familiar dorm. No death, no hooded figure, no unknown voices or faces. Heather set the book down on the couch and walked silently to the door. 'It was just a dream. None of it was real…' She opened the door and let Wesley in.

Wesley was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a new pair of shoes of white leather-like material. His shirt had the same design as his favorite had years ago. The words 'Rocket Scientist' were spelled out in sparkly silver letters. Heather had always been inclined to grin at this shirt. He carried a large stack of books and a bag of cashews.

"Sorry about being early. I wanted to make sure I was on time."

"Yes," Heather grinned and shook her head. "I imagine it's hard with your limited intellect."

This was her home. None of that existed. It was nothing but a dream, a dream that meant nothing, nothing more than a subconscious picture. Nothing more than a dream…

"You okay…? I wasn't hurt by your last…so-called insult. They're usually more potent."

"I'm flattered," Heather said dryly. She pondered for a moment before asking, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Much better than you can."

"I didn't tell anyone about that. I swore on my life. I'm not dead, am I?"

"If you didn't then who did?" Wesley asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Let's think about this for a minute. That month Micah and you…well, had some differences if you remember. I think he told this certain someone as a way to get back at you. I'm not really sure."

"You're lying. What 'differences'?"

Heather rolled her eyes and sighed. "I know you two better than you know each other, I see. You had a fight about some stupid, trivial thing so therefore you don't remember. Typical male thing I believe."

Wesley grimaced, "Typical male thing? I'm insulted! Since when is forgetting an argument a male thing? I'm sure you've done it before."

"Only if the topic of the argument was stupid and pointless. Otherwise it stuck, paining me each time I thought of it. Not a fun way to live." She sat down on the couch. "So, can you keep a secret?"

"Only if I can beat you at a game of chess."

Heather glared at him; "I refuse to lose purposely at a game of chess. It's my favorite game, I wouldn't be able to play it again if I lost to you on purpose."

"Fine, fine. If you win I'll keep the secret."

Heather grinned and merely nodded. She walked over to a cherry wood cupboard at the far end of the room. She took a chain from around her neck and put the attached key into the lock of silver. She opened the cupboard and pulled out her chess set.

It had been a gift from her parents for her eighteenth birthday. It had been one of the best presents she had received in a long time. They had bought it at an antique shop for an amount Heather, despite all poking and prodding, had not yet learned. The white pieces were handcrafted from snowcrystal, the black from obsidian. The board was inlayed with mother-of-pearl and hematite respectively. It was her most prized possession. She imagined its worth soared above even her collection of The Beatles memorabilia.

Heather set up the chessboard, after Wesley chose to be white. He played a pawn and the game was on. Heather quickly captured four of his pawns with her favored pieces, the rooks, bishops and the queen. Before long all his pawns were gone and he'd lost all his pieces but his queen, rooks and king.

"Ready to surrender, Wesley? Before long, your king will be bowing down to the greatness of my strategy, which is being played right now…" Heather smirked, her hazel eyes ablaze with some sort of maddened passion.

Wesley grimaced slightly and stared at the line-up of Heather's pieces compared to his. He put his hand to his chin and sat in thought for a couple of minutes. Finally, after much deliberation, he moved his queen four spaces to the left and let it rest on a black square. Heather smiled silently and in seconds captured the queen with the bishop resting three black squares away. She put the queen in the pile of Wesley's captured pieces.

"Ready to surrender now?"

Wesley made several more moves before Heather placed his king in check. Wesley was now left with only his rook and his king. Heather's rook easily put the king into check again after Wesley took her knight. The next move by Wesley was expected. He had attempted to put Heather in check with his rook but instead fell into her plotted trap. Her black bishop quickly took the rook and placed his king in check. The next move of Wesley put him into check again. The game was finally won.

Heather cracked her knuckles and put the pieces away. Wesley was looking depressed by all rights as a knock on the door echoed through the living room of the dorm. Heather slipped the chess set into the cupboard and locked it as the dormitory door swung open.

Erin entered carrying a large supply of chips and anime movies. Her pink skirt hung to her ankles where it was met by baby blue socks with ducklings on them. She wore a pair of black Mary-Jane shoes decorated with little rhinestones. Her shirt was a turtleneck in a light lavender color. Hair clips shaped like hamsters pinned her wavy black hair up.

Behind her stood Reid. He had several more magazines than books in his arms, Heather noted with a smirk. Black baggy pants hung down to his ankles where they were met by gray sneakers. A black shirt with the anarchy sign in red covered his upper body. Heather giggled at this before asking,

"Do you know the true meaning of anarchy?"

"Yes, why?"

"Nothing…I was just wondering." She put a hand to her chin and curiosity got the best of her. "Well then, what does it mean?" Reid blinked up at her and went quite red. "I see. Well it is the lack of government in a society of people. Not that wise if you think about it. But perhaps a less corrupt government would do…"

She ushered Reid into the living room as Kent walked in. His sandy hair was still damp and was haphazardly spiked with gel. He looked as though he had emerged from the shower only minutes earlier. Heather bit her tongue as she noted that Kent's shirt was backwards and his socks and shoes didn't match each other. Other than that he looked fine. He held several books under one arm and some, rather naughty magazines under the other. Heather grinned as he entered the living room.

"I do hope you're wearing underwear, Kent." She said, stifling her laughter. "You might wanna take a trip to the bathroom. Your shirt's backwards."

Lauren followed him wearing a scowl. Her eyes were once again alight with fury. She was sporting a black tank top, which had a phrase Heather had to forcefully bite her tongue at to keep from bursting out into fits of laughter. 'This is my bitchy mood, I think you'll like my nice mood,' was spelt out in loopy pink letters. She was also wearing a pair of blue jeans and a new pair of brown sneakers. She glared up at Heather, and without Lauren even speaking Heather knew what was wrong.

"Listen, if you don't want to be here that's fine with me. I suggested that you come but you can leave if you want," Heather said, slight chills running up and down her spine.

Without a word, Lauren turned and left the room, almost running into the person behind her. Micah was carrying a stack of CDs. J-Pop, J-Rock, Alternative and Metal titles written on the sides of them. Also, under his pile of CDs was a notebook with the initials M.M. written on them. He was wearing a black shirt with the words 'I don't like you, I don't care if you like me, get a life,' written in white, jagged letters. He was wearing his normal pair of black sneakers and a black pair of shorts.

Heather grinned as she closed the door behind Micah. "I can think of several ways to improve that shirt. 'I don't like you, I don't give a shit if you like me, get a bloody life and bugger off!' I'd wear that!"

Micah snickered and set his things on the table. "I thought you'd say that. Should I put some music in?"

"Do whatever you like. I'm gonna grab my books and get a clean shirt on." Heather muttered motioning to the stereo system. "Can we play something I want for the first hour though? Please?"

Micah nodded and Heather gleefully went through her stacks of CDs and records. She went through several before finding one labeled 'The Mix to Top all Mixes.' She opened the deck and slipped it in. She grinned at the other's faces as the first chords of a song they had never heard before sounded.

Kent and Reid collapsed into helpless bouts of laughter as the first words (Why don't we do it in the road?) emerged from the speakers. Heather grinned and walked off into her bedroom. She piled the books on her bed and slipped off her ash-colored shirt. She dug through her pile of clean clothes until she found her favorite shirt. An off-color, green material was covered by a picture of the Beatles from around the time of the album Hey Jude. She slipped it on and walked back into the living room. The last chords of 'Why don't we do it in the road?' echoed from the speakers as Erin opened her bag of chips. A new song, one Heather was fond of, started up. She turned the volume down and motioned for everyone to pull up a chair around the large, oak table.

"We're here because Wesley didn't want the 'sacred nature' of his dorm to be ruined." Several snickers followed this. "My thoughts exactly. Anyway, under my study method we'll take a break every hour in which we'll eat, talk, so on and so forth…Any questions?" Heather broke down into laughter at the expression on the faces of everyone. "I was kidding!"

The demon silently slipped into the dormitory building. He went unnoticed as he stealthily climbed the stairs to the floor in which the Guardian of Water's aura was the strongest. As he grew nearer he sensed the energies of more the just the point of this expedition. He swore under his breath and walked up to where the auras were most potent.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the aura of the girl. She made her way to the door and the demon seized his chance. He knocked on the door twice and felt her aura come steadily closer. As the door unlocked and the doorknob twisted he reacted.

Heather's face was full of horror as the demon pointed his staff at her heart. His pitiless eyes chilled her as he spoke.

"This is the Guardian of Water? Pathetic…" The demon sneered.

Heather backed away in terror as he drew closer to her. "W-what? W-what are y-you talking about?"

Quickly, the demon pulled her close to him and pressed the bladed side of his staff against her neck. Drops of blood leaked down and stained her shirt as he pressed harder. Her intake of air was slowly going down. Breath came in and out in wheezes. The pressure on her neck grew and she felt like dying, like giving up.

"You are weak…I don't want to hurt you more than I must. Give in to me and it will all be over soon," The demon's icy voice was hardly audible.

Heather's head was pounding. She could hear her pulse. It was slowly weakening along with her breaths. She had to call out…But what if they didn't hear her…? "Micah…Guys…Help…!"

Her voice died in her throat as the demon's bladed staff cut deep into the flesh of her neck. Blood poured down in an unstoppable stream. The scent was becoming overpowering. The salty aroma of the life flowing out from within her was slowly taking over. The demon's blade began cutting even deeper…

"I'll see you back in Hell, Water."

Heather gathered up all the strength she could. Her left arm was free of the demon's grasp. As hard as she could she elbowed the demon in the stomach. He recoiled and the pressure on her neck was finally released. She fell to the floor, her lungs screaming for air, as her friends rushed to her side.

"The demon," Heather wheezed. "I'll be fine."

"Demon?"

"Yes 'demon.'" He said, smirking. "Your friend is the key to free myself from eternal damnation."

"We're not letting you take her," Kent said as they closed around Heather.

The demon laughed a mirthless laugh. "I do admire courage but I have orders." He waved an impatient hand and the five went flying. They were knocked to either side of the room where they came in contact with various objects of various densities and hardness. Blood flowed freely and visibly from long cuts and deep wounds. Unconsciousness consumed them as the demon closed in on Heather.

"N-no…Please…" Her hazel eyes slowly began to cloud over. Tears formed in her eyes but didn't escape. The blood poured down in ruby rivers. It stained the carpet and washed over Heather.

"Your friends are as weak as you. You shall now pay for your weakness."

The demon swung his staff. A bloody edge flashed before Heather's eyes as a sharp pain shot through her body. Flinching and feeling more blood pour from the new wound she opened her eyes slightly and saw that her stomach had been sliced open. There was now so much blood. It pooled around her. It hurt so much…Too much pain.

"And here, Guardian of Water, is where you meet your end…"

The demon bent down close to her. Heather felt his wings close in around her as he pressed the bladed edge to her lower neck. It dug in deeply before she heard a dull crack. Pain flowed through her as more blood ran over her. Breathing became near impossible…Her windpipe was surely broken. 'It doesn't hurt to die,' Heather couldn't help but muse. Her breaths took in less and less air, as the world slowly grew dark around her. The breaths stopped completely as she fell into the darkness of death…

The limp, pale, lifeless body of Heather was placed upon a cold metal bed before Kela's Master. The flow of blood had finally stopped and the wounds had been coated over by the dry blood. No breaths took in air; no heartbeats moved the blood through her body. As far as Kela could tell she was dead. Her skin was paler than the skin of the demon. Her veins were visible beneath her skin. The blood within them looked black. She had, as far as Kela could tell, lost more blood than one could lose before dying.

"I-is she…dead?" He asked, looking into the depths of his master's hood. 'Oh Gods…Please don't be dead.' His mind prayed.

"No," Emerged a voice from the darkness.

"B-but…she's not breathing, no pulse. S-she must be—"

"She is not. Can you not feel the life force radiating from within her?" His Master's annoyed voice rang through the room. "You will tend to her wounds and I will be back in a half-hour, understand?" Kela nodded and his master left the room.

Kela conjured a washbasin full of water and a rag. He dipped the rag into the water, rung it out and began to clean the wounds on her neck. The blood stained the rag and Kela soaked it in the water. He squeezed the blood out of the rag and began to clean the rest of her cuts. The water was full of diluted blood. He cleaned the wound on her neck again. The skin mended itself and the blood vanished. Ragged breathing started up again. Kela carefully slipped off the torn Beatles shirt and cleaned the wound on her stomach. Eyes flickered open to reveal cloudy irises of dark green.

Heather took in deep breaths as the flow of blood restarted. The wounds on her stomach mended. Color slowly returned to her skin as blood streamed within her circulatory system. Her ragged breathing became normal as her irises returned to their normal hazel color. She began to sit up but was consumed in a coughing fit.

"A-are…are you okay?" Kela asked, his eyes filled with concern.

"I…? I-is this Heaven? It may as well be Hell…" Her eyes looked over Kela and the rest of the room. "It could always be Purgatory…"

"None of them actually."

"W-what? Some other place for the dead?" Heather sat up on the bed and hung her legs over the edge.

"You think you're still dead?" Kela asked, amusement beginning to set in.

"What do you mean 'still dead?'" Heather's eyes grew wide. "I was dead? I…I died? I actually saw the after life and I don't remember it? There goes the theory…"

Kela bit his tongue and tried not to laugh. She was being, Kela thought, quite irrational. She'd been dead for fifteen minutes and she was muttering about the after life. Had her psyche been altered that much over twenty-one years? Surely some remnants must remain of her old, somewhat more rational self.

"You do realize that you were dead for a quarter-hour and I've just brought you back…? Don't you?" He asked, trying to hide his snickers.

"Yes…And I thank you for doing so…" Heather looked around at the computer lined room. She took in every detail of the room before asking, "Where am I?"

"We are orbiting a planet called Arck. Over nine million light years away from Earth."

"…Nine million?! …Wait! Other life in our galaxy…This-this is amazing!"

"Yes. You are currently in the Lupmainius star system."

"Lup…main…ius? What does it mean?"

"Eye of the wolf. I believe 'lup' is also wolf in Romanian. Anyway, you were brought here by—"

"A demon! I'm sure of it. He had red and black wings, white horns and—"

"And is right behind you," The demon's icy voice made her jump. She whipped around and stared up into the demon's red eyes.

"You…" Heather snarled.

The demon's expression melted slightly and he swept into a very low bow. "I'm sorry for any harm I may've done to you and your friends. I got carried away."

"Carried away is an understatement," Kela snickered. "Do you have any idea how much blood is currently staining the carpet in her dorm?"

"It's just blood," The demon muttered scowling at Kela.

"You're missing the point! You killed her and you're acting like nothing happened."

Heather watched this, a bemused expression plastered on her face. After several minutes of this childish arguing she cleared her throat. "I hate to interrupt this adorable argument but if I may, what are your names?"

Kela flushed a very deep red. "My name is Kela," He said, choosing to omit his last name. "It's very nice to meet you…" He held out his hand.

Heather shook it and was overcome with memories. They flooded through her like water. Voices, pictures, actions…They all flashed before her eyes like lightning. She was snapped out of the trance as Kela pulled his hand away. Heather trembled and felt suddenly very numb.

"Are you okay?" Kela asked softly.

"Y…Yes. I-I don't know what happened. It was weird…I remembered something…" Heather shook her head and turned to the demon. "And you are?"

"I don't have a name," He said flatly.

"Don't have a name? Surely you're not just a soulless vessel. You must have one."

"Trust me, if I ever once had a name it has been wiped from my memory. Choose what you like, I'll gladly take it."

Heather thought for a moment. The memory, if it even was a memory, had mentioned someone named Murasame. The name appealed to Heather greatly. She'd heard it before. Its meaning, if she remembered correctly, was blood rain.

"How about Murasame?"

"Mura…same? …It sounds alright." The demon grinned slightly. "Do you know what it means?"

"I…I believe it means blood rain. I could be wrong. It's been a long time since I last heard it used."

"I like it," Murasame grinned. "It suits me I suppose. Thank you."

Heather smiled lightly. "It's nothing. I'm glad you like it." She crossed her arms and turned to Kela. "So…" She paused for a minute and glanced down. "Why aren't I wearing my shirt?"

Kela flushed a deeper red and Murasame began to chuckle. Kela mouthed silently several times. Finally giving up on the prospect of talking he tossed Heather a set of blue robes. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the folds of silk.

"Do you two mind?"

Kela, if possible, went a deeper red and Marusame's chuckling erupted into bouts of pure laughter. He covered his eyes as Kela turned around. "I wasn't planning to peek anyway. I can't vouch for Kela though."

"Oh really?" Heather asked as she slipped her head through the giant amount of silk. "I'll have to remember that…" She tied the back of the robes together and slipped off her jeans. She lay them on the metal bed and twirled around. "Do I look okay? I feel really stupid. It's like I'm wearing a dress…"

"You don't look stupid." Kela muttered.

"But she feels stupid…She's female, if she hears that she'll insist that she looks stupid and you'll just waste your energy."

Heather glared at them. "If you want a broken nose I suggest you two keep talking that way. I may've been dead a few minutes ago but I can still throw a punch."

Murasame blanched. "Perhaps I was wrong about the female thing."

"I get the vague feeling you're right, Murasame." Kela muttered to the much taller demon.

"Would you mind telling me if I look stupid or not?" Heather asked, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"You look fine."

"I think you'd look better with the rest of the outfit." Kela said, digging through a chest near the foot of the bed.

"Rest of the outfit? Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

"Because, knowing him, it's gonna make you wanna kill him."

"That's comforting, Murasame. If it's pink I'll be tempted to."

"A girl, not liking the color pink?! What is this world coming to?" Murasame asked mockingly.

"Sanity," Heather smirked.

"Here you are," Kela handed her a pair of black gloves, brown leather boots and a medallion. "The medallion has been passed down in my family since before my great-great-great…well you get the idea. It brings good luck to the keeper. My father gave it to me before he was…before he died. I want you to have it."

Heather was speechless. The medallion was carved out of gold. Runes decorated the outside. The inside was covered in diamonds and a single giant ruby. It was strung on a black material covered in scales. 'Dragon skin?' She thought to herself. She flipped it over and read the engraving. "Cirlo partes ulayg re'antae qwiat mendora. What does it mean?"

"Destiny is putting faith in chance. It's what my grandfather used to say. I now know why."

"What do the runes say?"

"Areq, the circular one, Noivus, the pointy one, Luyus, the square-ish one, Kelutic, the angular one, Iuyist, the half circle one, Uopla, the rectangular one, Lea'era the triangle one and Gerlami, the cross shaped one. They represent the elements of the Shrines, one for each shrine and direction. Areq is for Earth, the west. Noivus is Day, the northwest. Luyus represents Fire, the north. Kelutic means Night, which resides in the northeast. Iuyist is Wind, in the east. Uopla is for Life, in the southeast. Lea'era is Water, in the south. And lastly, Gerlami is Time, to the southwest.

"The middle rune, Vilabant, signifies the unity of the eight elements for the good of our planet. When this harmony becomes dissonance the world is thrown into chaos. A new guardian must be chosen to fill the place of the empty one. If one is left empty and isn't protected the planet will slowly begin to die…die until nothing is left but a desolate wasteland of nothingness…If this happens the culture will die with the planet."

"Why do I have the feeling I'm somehow involved in all this?" Heather asked, tying the medallion around her neck.

"You are," A chilling voice echoed through the room. Shivers shot up and down Heather's spine as she turned to face the new figure.

The robes covering his body were a deep shade of violet. They were made of crushed velvet and hung loosely around his body. The hood obscured his face; all that was visible was a gaping tunnel of darkness. He moved so smoothly, he appeared to be gliding rather than walking. His steps were short and held an air of royalty.

"It is good to see you again, my dear." He said, silkily. Heather noticed with slight curiosity that his voice had an English accent to it. "It has been too long." He bowed slightly to Heather and removed his hood.

'I know who he is…why can't I remember? He's the one from the dream! He…He looks so familiar. He can't be the one from the dream…That isn't possible. How did he get here?'

Heather smiled lightly at him. His eyes were a royal purple with specks of green that danced in the light. His skin was fair and had small lines of age, slanting at angles on his face. Brown hair was cut short in the front but was tied back below the base of his neck. It had small lines of gray but not so many that it was easily noticed. He was thin and looked as though he'd never worked once in his life. The royalty that radiated from him was put off slightly as he slipped on a pair of glasses.

Heather grinned and noted, with a slight sadness that her pair was over nine million light years away. She tried her hardest to read him from the way he held himself but she couldn't tell. She looked from Kela, who trembled slightly to Murasame who looked as though he recognized the man from somewhere; where, Heather had no idea. This worried her…Why was Kela so afraid of him? Was he not a good man?

"Heather, is it, Dear?" He asked her, his rich accent giving her goosebumps for some reason.

"Yes it is," She nodded. She looked into his eyes, the light reflecting from the nearest torch into them. Eyes were the windows to the soul, as she had always heard. She had used this phrase countless times in her writing. No emotions could be read from his. No happiness, no sadness could be detected. Neither could anger nor neutrality.

She noticed that he was raising his eyebrows, puzzled at her inquiring stare. She bowed slightly and rushed to defend herself. "I apologize," Heather said earnestly. "I don't remember your name…may I inquire…?" She felt a light blush creep to her cheeks. He knew who she was and it was the slightest bit awkward that she didn't.

"It's alright. Your eyes are quite mysterious themselves. Hazel is a rare color where I hail from." He nodded and smiled slightly. "I am Doctor Kadikawa. I knew you in your past life."

Kadikawa…Kadikawa, Kadikawa? Why did the name sound so familiar? She had clearly never met this man before but he seemed to know who she was. Why couldn't she remember him?

" I do not want to have to do this to you…If you give me the information now you shall live."

"I'd never give anything to you! Not even if my life depended on it!"

"I am truly sorry you feel that way."

Screaming…It filled the dark night like air. The screams echoed throughout the Central City, not ceasing. Cries of pain echoed and slowly died as the throat of the screamer became raw…

"Take her away. Do not tend to her wounds. If she dies the bitch will deserve it."

"My Lord, I understand your feelings towards her but, it's not wise to let her die. She's one of the Guardians. This won't fare well with the—"

"Silence! You dare question my orders?"

"N-no! My Lord…Please, forgive me…"

Heather paled and looked into the face of the Doctor. She noticed Murasame raising an eyebrow. What had happened? A flashback? An omen? What had it been? She shook her head slightly and apologized.

"Why am I here?"

"You are the Guardian of Water, sovereign of the South, Keeper of Memories, Guard of the Eternal Spring. You have the ability to control water in all its natures. Rain, ocean water, stream water…the water within ones' body. You can control it all."

Her eyes widened. "Then why…? Why was I on Earth? Why wasn't I here, if I was to rule over the south of Arck?"

Kadikawa crossed his arms and spoke softly. "Eight warriors from the planet Jisu came to Arck twenty-one years ago. They brought with them bloodlust and a passion for death. This had been their cause of banishment. Banished by their people, the Royal Family of Jisu required a place to live. You and the other guardians gave them one within the Central City, capital and home of the original eight. It was a holy city where anyone needing it would find refuge. But they didn't want refuge—they wanted the planet.

"They first killed the Guardian of Life, your decoy. They thought she was the leader and tried to extract the key to the planet, the information that would make this conquest easy. She didn't know the information and they killed her. One by one the other guardians were killed, their citizens went along with them. The search for the information tore the planet to shreds, bloodshed seen not since the great wars before the Guardians. The ruthless eldest, a princess called Valida, killed them all. You knew the information—you were the leader after all. With the idea that the information would save the people of your planet you willingly gave her the information." Kadikawa uncrossed his arms and shifted his weight slightly.

Kela glanced up. He tried to make contact with Heather. The information was wrong. He was lying to her! Why was he fabricating the information she had to know? It all didn't make sense.

Heather felt the need to sit down but held herself. "She killed me too?"

"You were of no use." He said, the traces of bitterness present. "You were weak in her mind. You were the last hurdle in the way to the planet. After they killed the Guardian of Time you willingly allowed her to kill you. The planet was in the grasp of the Royal Family, as it has been for the past twenty-one years. We brought you back in the hope you will help us. Free us from the oppression of their unjust rule."

Heather looked into Kadikawa's violet eyes and turned to Murasame. This decision was hers and hers alone. She stared into the demon's crimson eyes and put a hand to her chin. 'Dammit…' Her mind cursed, refusing to register any words of help or guidance. She sighed and once again looked to Kadikawa.

"You expect me to help you?! I was brought here, against my will, and you ask me to free a planet that I know nothing about, from those who killed for it? Perhaps you fail to realize that I am no more than an author and a student! I was not raised to kill, Kadikawa!" She snapped. She inhaled deeply, trembling with what seemed not to be rage, but fear. Her voice dead in her throat, she let free tears of stress and bottled emotion. They streamed down her face, leaving long welts of salty water.

Kadikawa started slightly, all signs of composure gone. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let Heather bury her face in his shoulder. "I hate to put this pressure on you, love. You must know this." He waited for a reply but heard none. "Whatever your choice, you shall be supported. I promise," He whispered this so neither Murasame nor Kela could hear it. "Please…I am sorry this burden must be placed upon you but it must be done."

Heather sniffed and raised her head from the folds of his velvet robes. She wiped free the tears from her chin and cleared the welts with her left sleeve. She pulled herself free of Kadikawa's grasp and nodded. "I will help you. I can't let what I caused all those years ago to shackle the people of this planet any longer." She smiled slightly. "Whatever must be done, I will be willing to do so."

"Thank you," Kadikawa said, compassion and what seemed to be light disdain coating his words. "We owe you everything."

He could taste something like metal in his mouth. What was it? It felt like water…But then it was too warm to be water. It tasted like salt. Was it…? Micah's eyes flickered open. He was laying face down on the blue carpet of Heather's dorm. He moved his tongue around in his mouth and realized what it was. The blood flowed out, mixed with saliva, staining the carpet. He rolled over and lay on his back. The lights were out…The blinds were closed. This was wonderful…He would be content to sleep. To close his eyes and give into the blissful sleep that kept floating through his mind.

Erin's body ached. She felt around, no broken bones were felt but this was pain! A white-hot, searing pain that kept cutting through her. She felt around, searching for some sort of support. Slowly, she willed her legs to move. She stood up, wobbly at first, and attempted to walk. A sharp pain shot through her right leg and it collapsed under her weight. She fell to the ground and lay back on the carpet. This wasn't going to be easy.

Kent's arm was swimming with pain. It wasn't broken but it hurt with almost unbearable pain. It hurt to move at all. He could but every time he did it was accompanied with an unimaginable pain. Kent lay silently on his back, the fan going above his head. Why was the room so dark? Wasn't anyone else awake? Where was he again? He couldn't quite remember. Who was he? His mind seemed to be clicking off. Why was he still awake? Sleep overcame him in a huge gulp. He closed his eyes…and slept.

Reid felt his way around in the dark. A long cut was bleeding on his forehead. He kept blinking blood out of his eyes as it dripped down like rain. That was the table, he reasoned as he felt two clawed feet. Then that meant…He felt around more and found a chair. He used it to pull himself up. Groping his way along in the dark he noticed he was bleeding from more places than his forehead. A long cut crept its way down his left cheek. Blood was still freely flowing from it. Finding what he was looking for, he ripped a paper towel from the roll and began cleaning his wounds.

Wesley couldn't begin to reason why he was just laying there. His legs refused to move. He couldn't push himself up, no matter how hard he tried. His left arm had a deep cut running from his shoulder to his wrist. No matter how he tried to dab it, in attempt to stop the bleeding, the blood kept flowing. It hurt to do anything with it. He couldn't push himself up. It hurt far too much. Why didn't he just get up…? Why couldn't he will himself to stand…? The world slowly was consumed in darkness.

Michelle pulled her long black hair behind her and knocked on the door of Heather's dorm. She was late, she noted, glancing at her watch. Seven-thirty…no eight-thirty. My…was she late. Where had the time gone? The studying would have to be quick and informative. Why wasn't anyone answering the door? Had this been some sick, practical joke? Michelle turned the doorknob. The room was dark and smelt like…blood? Why blood? What had happened here? She flicked on the light and gasped.

The long, seemingly never-ending trek through the station was annoying Heather. The robes felt beyond uncomfortable and the slightly heeled brown leather boots were very awkward for walking. The black gloves were the only things that felt comfortable. They felt like extensions of her hands. The insides of the gloves felt like satin, despite the thick, hard outside. The medallion swung from side to side as she walked.

Murasame had been quite insistent on leading her to her bedchamber. He and Kela walked in silence ahead of her. They were hiding something. Everyone was hiding something. This didn't seem right. Why were they being so quiet? She needed to talk. She needed to ask them what was happening.

"Murasame? I need to ask you something."

Murasame froze. He tensed slightly, pulling his wings close to him. "Yes?"

"He was lying…wasn't he? I didn't really give them the key to the planet, did I?" 'Of course he wasn't lying. Stop denying weakness. If you did fail before just accept it.'

Murasame and Kela turned around as one. Murasame's eyes shone with a light of compassion and understanding. "He was lying, but not about that. Y-you did give them the information, but you did it for the other guardian's well-being, not for yourself."

Kela looked at her earnestly. "He was lying though; you weren't killed by a princess. You were killed by a prince; a prince called Kadikawa."