Stefan watched Gabriel when he set down the flasks of his brother's blood before the Vampire. Gabriel seemed to like its' scent enough to try it, but before Stefan could open his mouth and explain what it was, Gabriel drank some of it. The Angel watched, with some alarm, how Gabriel sank to the floor and began to cough.

He thought of offering help, but then Stefan figured that Gabriel would be ok. If there were the possibility of something dangerous occuring, Rosiel would have warned him, or would have simply waited until he was able to present Gabriel the blood himself, and not asked Stefan to do it. Gabriel had risen off of his knees slightly, as if he were trying to see something over the counter. Stefan glanced behind himself and saw nothing.

The Vampire seemed to sway on the spot, and Stefan walked around the counter to stand beside Gabriel, unsure of what he should do. He leaned down to look at Gabriel's face. Gabriel had the look of a man who had just gotten a dose of a powerful narcotic. He had a relaxed smile on his face, almost a grin, and his arms swayed gently with his body.

Then, almost at once, the far-away look left the Vampire's face, and was then replaced by a bewildered one, which faded into Gabriel's normal expression of polite curiousity. This manner was one of the things which made Stefan vaguely wonder if Gabriel was or had once been a nobleman. From what he had knew about Vampires from Rosiel's stories of them, many of the ones who were willing to speak to an Angel were often not happy to be Vampires, and inquiring of their past frequently led them to much discomfort. Wondering or not, Stefan did not wish to be rude.

"I hope you like that," he said softly, "It's Rosiel's blood. He hinted quite a bit that he did not want you hunting in this area, as he is afraid you would be recognized. The man who owns the General Store is a former Vampire-Hunter, and Rosiel would prefer that there be no trouble. He knows you've got to eat, or drink, actually, so he's volunteered his own blood to you. I've got plenty of those little flasks filled with his blood, but he asks that if you want some more, that you ask him, and not try to take it. I don't think he'd respond kindly to that.

"Anyway, you're welcome to what I've brought inside. I don't know if you know what properties Angel's blood has when it's taken by a Vampire, but if you don't, I think you'll like them very much. Rosiel said it would make you... er... act a little drunk, I guess. He said "high" to be precise, but as I've never taken narcotics and he has... well."

Stefan took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, trying to remember everything his older brother had told him about the blood. He abesentmindedly played with one of the flasks as he thought. After about a minute, he remembered (or hoped he did, anyway) what Rosiel had told him.

"It's supposed to give you protection against "holy" objects. Like, if a priest tries to get you to back off with a silver cross, you could probably take it from him and shove it up his ass. It'll protect you more if you decide to attack an Angel, but I'm not sure how well you'll be defended against the more powerful ones like Rose - he might still be able to burn you to a crisp if he really wants to. Umm... I mean, I can touch you and stuff, even if you haven't had any Angel's blood-" Stefan reached over the counter and poked Gabriel on the forehead, gently, as it was all he could reach, because the Vampire was still on the floor, thought Stefan was under the impression that it was because Gabriel was listening to him, and not because he wasn't able to get up.
"- but Angels can... umm... like... Flash-fry you if you attack them. It's like we turn up the holiness. Or something like that. I can't really explain it. You can ask Rosiel, maybe he can explain it better. Um.. let's see, what else? Oh, that's right. You'll get stronger, physically, too. And the last one, even he isn't sure about. Supposedly, it will protect you from sunlight for a duration of several hours.

"I'll bet you miss the sun," Stefan said, looking at Gabriel with a dreamy expression. "You know what you can do? When the morning comes, you can drink some more of his blood, and then see if you can stick your finger in a sun beam. If it doesn't hurt you, you can try sticking in your hand, then your arm, and then your body. That way it's safe, and if it doesn't work for some reason, you won't burst into flames. Err... if there's anything else, I can't really remember. I'm sure Rose'll give you a summery or an essay or whatever, if you want it."

Stefan moved away from the counter, and placed the flasks with the Damson Wine on the floor, beside it. He bent down, and reached for the plates that were on a shelf under the counter, trying to remember how many guests there were. He counted Faye, Gabriel, himself, and Rosiel. He wasn't sure if the woman Mystical would return or not, and Faye also had Keo with her. So, he thought, that makes six plates, but then he put one back; Gabriel would get very suspicious if Keo was served at a table if he were in the form of a cat, so he would have to be fed in Faye's room.

"Rosiel went out for a bit. Didn't say where he was going, but that's nothing new. He did tell me to get dinner on, however, and mentioned that several people would be joining us. What would you like to eat, Mr. Gabriel?" Stefan asked.

Rosiel stared at the woman before him. He had watched her turn to face him, and when she had fully turned, he stopped dead. It was Faye, most certainly, but she seemed unnatural. Everything about this place, in fact, seemed unnatural. When Faye had stepped into the sand, the sand did not cling to her wet feet. Her skirt, even the part of it that had touched the water, was not wet.

Faye had said, ""I am afraid this was my last resort. I am sorry for bringing you here, but my healing was turning out to be far from strong enough for you. With Keovari's help, I may have been able to get you on your feet... Hopefully he will catch up to us," before Rosiel looked away from her skirt and looked at her face.

"But for now, welcome to a portion of my subconscious," she finished, still looking at him. The expression on her face was indeed apologetic, but at first, Rosiel didn't understand why. What she had said earlier was confusing him.

With Keovari's help, I may have been able to get you on your feet.

The Angel looked down at himself. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with him, aside that he had a small amount of sand on his shoes. That was another thing that was unnatural about this place. Why was only Faye "protected" from the physical elements in this place? He looked back up at her yet again, staring blankly. Faye was smiling softly at him in return, and said nothing.

Rosiel was actually begining to get frightened. He didn't fully undstand what was going on, nor why he had this odd feeling of urgancy when there was no obvious danger to him here. He looked up at the sky. The beach was rather light, warm, almost sunny light, but he could not see a sun. To him, the sky looked cloudy and cool, like winter. He realized that he wanted to see it this way, for some reason, as a warning. But then, something seemed to say, "No, it's not like that."

The clouds cleared and a bright, happy sun appeared in the skys, the warm rays touching Rosiel, Faye, and the beach.

The Angel's eyes widened and he backed away from Faye, or the woman who claimed to be Faye. He glanced back at the sky, and its sun, then back to Faye.

Sky.

Faye.

Sky.

Faye.

The sand. The ground.

He looked down to see a hermit crab crawling over his boot. He bent down to look at it. The shell was a cream-like color, with light brown and black stripes running across it. It was struggling with the glossy surface of his boot. Rosiel watched a pale red claw emerge from the shell, and pinch his boot. He didn't feel anything, but he kicked his foot.

The hermit crab flew up into the air, claws and legs flailing. It landed upside-down in the sand, and desperately tried to right itself. The Angel was going to move to help it, when it righted itself, and continued to crawl along, as if nothing happened. Was this normal for such a creature. Not being an expert on Hermit Crabs, Rosiel didn't know.

He looked back up at Faye again. Her smile seemed to fade a little, and he wasn't too sure of the emotion underneath the remaining smile. Was it concern? Fear? Anger?

Or maybe he was imagining it.

He knew she had noticed him take a few steps back, and he took a few more steps back.

He remembered that Faye was a water elemental, but he didn't remember how he knew this, or when he had learned it. And to his knowledge, no water elemental was able to create such an illusion.

He was quite sure it must be some kind of illusion. He didn't know what was going on, but he couldn't ignore the overwhelming feeling of urgancy which obviously had nothing to do with the present situation. And he now noticed that he felt cold, and damp. Rosiel shook his head and decided that this was not the time to concern himself with the cold.

He took another step back, and gropped around for something in a pouch on his belt.

After a few seconds, the Angel drew a rather powerful handgun.

Faye closed her eyes as she let the waves slide over her feet. She was letting herself bask momentarily in her senses and the soft wet sand that her bare toes dug into happily. She stretched, and yawned softly. Her fingers slid into her hair and she freed the long dark locks, letting them shift down around her shoulders. She smiled as the salty breeze floated through them and flicked the strands into the air. The warm sun tingled on her skin as she adjusted from the dark cold night that her body knew. Faye felt her muscles relaxing into the comfort, letting tension slip away, leaving her in peace.
It wasn't long before she heard footsteps on the sand interrupting the otherwise flawless sound of the ocean. She turned her face slightly, to see him out of the corner of her eye. Calmly, she lifted her skirts, ignoring the damp, sand speckled hem and stepped forward. Faye curtsied and gave him small apologetic smile.
"I am afraid this was my last resort. I am sorry for bringing you here, but my healing was turning out to be far from strong enough for you. With Keovari's help, I may have been able to get you on your feet... Hopefully he will catch up to us," She offered softly, "But for now, welcome to a portion of my subconscious."

---

Keovari could not stop himself from glancing back at the woman in his arms. It took all of his strength of thought to keep enough attention on where he was walking and the forest demanded that precious attention. He trudged on through the snow, cradling the warm body in his arms.
Her soft voice surprised him, and he paused to look down, "Yes?" but she called out again, and this time it was louder and directed him to keep moving. He immediately sped up, wanting to find Faye and hopefully get Mystical quickly to safety.
"Once we find her, it will be easier to take care of you. I am sorry, my Lady."
He pushed on, feeling himself moving faster as the snow thinned. He glanced curiously at it. The sparkling white sea seemed to be at low-tide here. He suddenly made the connection. Something was very wrong if Faye was filtering that much natural energy through her and he was starting to sense someone else with her, and though he could not place the aura, it seemed familiar.
"Faye?"

The small form of the woman was tucked snugly against Keovari. Her usually strong arms were draped almost limply about his neck as she clung to him with what little strength she could muster. In an almost child-like gesture she tucked her head in close against him, while her fiery locks obscured her now frosty face. She boggled at her own actions, half expecting a voice to chime in from the depths of her mind, but she only found silence and her own confused thoughts. Even though an explanation would have been welcomed at this point, it was nice to finally have her mind to herself for a change.

Trotting along in the snow behind the pair, was the small golden form of a dragon. Mystical’s companion kept close, the shoulder bag that had once housed her was now gripped firmly in the dragon’s snout and was being drug along behind the creature, picking up snow all along the way. Unexpectedly, the dragon hit a rather deep patch of snow, and with an audible ‘crunch’ of the snow beneath the small creature went sinking into the mush up over her head.. With a flutter and a huff the rather exasperated Scheherazade sprung from the chilly white and fluttered into the air, bag still in tow. Fearing another cave-in the dragon opted to fly the rest of the way, still keeping close to Keovari and the Lady.

His body, so warm against the frigid cold. Emotions... feeling... so hard to tell what was said and what was not, or if all of it was simply the delirium mixed with her intuition. She found herself adrift in an ocean of watery energy, the soft waves washing over her mind and spirit. In vain she tried to reach out with her mind, to find -her-, to find Faye. The vast watery energy surrounding her made it nearly impossible to pick out her friend’s aura. Again the world began to spin, and she groaned softly as her grip tightened about the spirit’s neck. “...Keovari...” A small voice came out softly, almost like the coo of a dove, and was then cut short as the darkness crept around her mind.

A throbbing ache to her heart jolted her back to her senses, and drug her back from clutches of the inviting darkness once more. Eyes sprung open as she began to look about wildly; a sharp raspy gasp emitted from her pale lips. “.. I feel her!” she cried out, in an almost horse voice. “Keep go..going this way.. not fare now.” By now her entire body was shuddering, trembling like a leaf as the winter’s cold cut through her like a knife. The only thing holding her, sustaining her was the warmth the Guardian and his borrowed coat.

Gabriel was pleased to see Stefan; as his small, purple-haired frame seemed to float across the room and out the door, he felt more at home in this inn than he had in the last six years. He hadn't felt this warm, this welcomed and belonging since the Castle...

This train of thought stopped. Thinking about the past gets you nowhere, Gabriel repeated to himself. Concentrate on the future, and what you're going to do to find out where your room-mates have got to.

A few seconds passed in silence as Gabriel deliberately forced his attention again to the absence of the guests; but still, that nagging memory of his days in the Castle gnawed at his mind, like someone was tightening a vice at the back of his head. With perfect timing, the door crashed open; a blast of snow and wind whistled through the frame, and Stefan came trudging back in, covered in frost, clutching a few bottles.

Intruiged, Gabriel unstoppered one of the bottles and let the aroma of its contents fill the air. It was so sweet, so overwhelming; powerful and filled with something insubstantial, something undefinable; almost life itself. It was like no wine or blood Gabriel had ever come across before, and he felt himself almost intoxicated by it's very smell. Gingerly, he brought the bottle to his lips and took a short draught of it.

Gasping deeply, Gabriel fell to his knees and began to cough. The liquid was like drinking molten gold; heavy and almost scaldingly hot. He could feel it begin to work its way through his body, as if moving with his blood. He felt a tingling stretch out from his chest and send little twinges and pricks racing over his skin, as if his blood vessels were being expanded, his skin pushed away. He felt it reach his brain, and almost at once his vision was thrown into a blinding, golden blur; everything he looked at seemed to have been carved out of light, and ghostly golden figures drifted through walls, into solid ground, seemingly with no regard for the material world. Looking down at his own hands, Gabriel could only see two great black images, each one criss-crossed with veins of the purest gold.

Though relatively quickly, amazing serenity came over him. This new way of seeing the world seemed comfortable, natural. The new feelings washed over him like a spring tide, and Gabriel had never felt better in his life. Whatever he had just drunk was more than just a pick-me-up.

And as quickly as these sensations had set in, they were gone. This golden world disappeared to be replaced by the cool tones of the Seven Roses bar, very much back in the real world. Out of the silent planet, he thought, and into the heavens.

Stefan slowly decended the stairs, one hand sliding along the wall as he went down. He peeked cautiously at the bar, and saw Gabriel sitting at it, writing in his journal. There was a small pile of things on the counter that the Angel assumed were Gabriel's. He peered at them curiously from his position. He couldn't see them too well, but amoungst the assortment of coins and Gabriel's typical writing books, he saw a small bottle he didn't remember the Vampire ever having.

"Gabriel?" he said, softlym waving. "It's me, Stefan. Listen, Rosiel went out for a bit, but I think he'll be back really soon, because he asked me to put on some food. Oh! He's got something for you, too, in the matter of food. I think you'll really like it. Just let me go get, all right? I'll be right back!"

The purple-haired Angel dashed for the door before Gabriel even had time to reply. He opened the door and stood at its' threshold, looking out into the dark pine forest. A small square of light extended from the bar, illuminating the snow on the ground, and the snow now falling quickly from the sky. Stefan out-stretched his hand and held it palm-up, watching the flakes fall on it and melt. He then remembered that he was supposed to be getting some of the blood flasks for Gabriel.

He closed the door behind himself, and slowly walked to the stump where he had been chopping wood for the now lit fires in the upper rooms and kitches. His cutting axe was leaning against a tree. To the left of the axe was a pile of snow. He dug through it and produced several flasks. Three of them had the black top and two had the silver top. He put both of the silver-tops back, but then thought better of it and took one of them with him; Rosiel liked his Damson wine, and he might want to warm up once he got back.

Holding the cold flasks in a pile in his arms, Stefan retraced his foot prints back to the bar. Once he got to the door again, he put the flasks on the floor, but he stopped to look at the Blue Tree. Though he couldn't see it very well in the snow that was falling down, something seemed unnatural about it. The other pines and trees were moving about in the now-present wind, but the Blue Tree seemed to stay still. The Angel noticed that some of its needles had fallen off of it; they lay in a darkened clump at the base of the trunk.

It was just a tree, Stefan thought to himself. It doesn't mean anything.

He opened the door, gathered the flasks, stepped inside, and closed the door by kicking it. The Angel quickly brought the flasks to the counter, and dumped them there, not too far from Gabriel's pile of items.

---

Rosiel was very confused.

The angry Demoness from his memories was still before him, snarling, being held back by two very-stressed looking soldiers, but they weren't moving. They seemed to br frozen. The fires had stopped in mid-burn, specks of ash and burning wood floating in the air. Rosiel sat up, and immediately poked the snarling Demoness, then leapt back. She didn't move.

"What the Hell?" he said aloud. "I don't remember this shit ever happening."

Rosiel didn't like the unusual stillness all around him. Some of the confusion had left now; he remembered that he was really lying in the snow somewhere and someone

Faye, it's Faye. She's right there

was helping him. but why wasn't he looking at them, why was he stuck in this memory? The Angel started to walk around, glancing at the flames and the still-cloud of ash surrounding them. He slowly made his way up to one of them. The fiery embers glowed a bright orange-red. Seeing them made him feel nostalgic for her again. Before he could think too much about it, he set off again, in an angry huff.

The sudden whistle of the wind caught his attention. He stopped walking, and looked around to see where it was coming from, but couldn't find anything. He could hear other things now, too. The annoyed squaks from hungly gulls; the sound of small waves crashing on a shore; a faint ringing of some kind of bell.

The ocean.

But there was no ocean here.

But it was there.

Rosiel saw, where should have been a small, crumbling home, meters of brown-grey sand. There were two gulls standing together, screeching at each other, and tearing apart what looked like a small fish. Empy hermit crab and oyster shells littered the sand. He could see a lone figure standing on the shoreline, with its back to him.

"What?" he whispered, then rapidly turned around. He wasn't expecting to see even more sand, with a lighthouse in the distance. Bemused, he looked down at his feet. His black leather Captain's boots had sand all over them, as if he'd been walking on the beach. He bent down and brushed the sand off of them. He looked down at himself; he was, apparently, still his Captain's uniform, minus the hat, which had fallen off when he had gotten kicked by the Demoness.

The Angel's uniform was completely black, save for a bit of red and gold, which were on the metal pieces that indicated his rank, on his shoulders. Rosiel hadn't worn this uniform for a few million years. But that wasn't important, now. He looked up at the shoreline again, at the lone figure.

He slowly began to walk to toward it. As he got closer, he noticed that it was a woman. He noted her round shoulders, and slim waist. She was wearing somne kind of dress that almost touched the water. She was standing in the water, so he assumed she wasn't wearing any kind of shoes.

Rosiel broke into a run when he saw that it was Faye.

She grew steadily more frustrated. It was taking all her energy to keep feeding the power to heal him, but that was not enough. Faye knew it was unlikely her powers would do much for a being so different from her as Rosiel, but it had startled her to find him so sick, and she knew there would not be much else for her to do.
Breaking out of her trance for the slightest moment, she focused her eyes on his. She frowned worriedly and give his hands a gentle squeeze in her own. Things were not improving even as little as she would have liked. Fearing the loss of her own consciousness that was slowly tugging at her brain, she pushed a store of energy through to help him, and then broke from the spell. She broke away and took a deep breath. The world seemed so empty to her glance and she couldn't help but flicker to the comfort of the castle and Gabriel’s embrace. Those fleeting days had been the most simplistic of her life and had quickly spoiled her, but times like this forced her to act responsibly once more. She had to find a way to help him, whatever that was. But she did not know how. Angels were not as simple as the humans she usually healed and unsure of the sickness, she did not know where to aim her healing.

---

Keovari felt as though something were cutting through his chest. He wrapped his arms slowly around the Lady as she collapsed against him, holding her gently. For a moment, he didn't move. He pulled her closer, a stolen embrace. But as a warm flush crept up his cheeks, Keovari jumped. What am I doing?
He quickly moved her up in his arms, curling her closer to help shield her from the elements. He made sure his hold was strong before moving again in the direction Faye had gone. He closed his eyes, trying to find the aura of his Ward. Instead, his scenes were filled with a sweet smoke. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear the smoky floating, he glanced at her face. Selfishly, he lifted her closer. His mind raced in confusion at his actions. Keovari felt himself frown, his brown furrowing.
He moved faster using the extra attention his speed required to tear his mind from the smoke created by the fiery woman in his arms.

---

A bubble of panic slowly started to flower in her mind, it felt like vines crawling over her brain. Faye fought to focus her thoughts and consider what to do. She slid one hand to his cheek and pet it lightly.
The panic of being helpless made her feel breathless.

---

A flash seemed to smack Keovari in the head. He paused in his movement and turned to face the direction the invisible slap seemed to come from. Faye. Keovari turned in the direction he felt her, but realized she was distant. He had not guessed for her to have gone that much further. If the drenching worry he felt was that strong from far enough away that he could not feel her aura, then something was violently wrong.
He risked another glance at Lady Mystical and pressed on.

---

"What shall I do for you, Rosiel?" She murmured blandly. Another stolen glance around them showed no signs of the others coming. Faye was alone and had to do something. Rosiel was not well and the intense cold of night would not help.
She looked dazedly at her hand on his face and then to the silver bracelet hanging around her wrist.
It was a delicate piece of jewelry, the silver links intermittently decorated with pure blue jems. One of these dangling stones was larger then the others and rested against the vain running her arm as if an extension of her life. She seemed momentarily lost in it. Remembering...
Faye was sitting in the chair, her shoes off, stockinged feet swinging childishly. She was alone for the time being, and her proper manners were lax. She smiled, the words of the book slurring together as her mind wandered. She started to think of the beautiful ocean, wishing only that she were by one. Then things could not be more perfect. She smiled and stretched like a cat, pulling out only to curl up tighter and close her eyes.
A moment later a familiar ocean surrounded her. Long expanses uninterrupted but for a few miniature islands where she stood. She retained enough consciousness only to know that this was unusual, considering she had been in a castle far into the mainland only moments ago. She bent down and let the water swirl around her fingers. So soothing. She smiled, but felt sudden confusion bite her again. What was so familiar here?
Suddenly, Keovari Seriph was beside her, calmly watching out over the water.
'You've not come here often. You aren't in great danger. Why have you come now?' She smiled from the sound of his voice.
'I do not seem to know, dear. Where is this?'
He turned to look at her, 'This is a piece of your soul. A safe sanctuary where you retreat when your body is in danger or you cannot face the world.' He slid his hand around hers, 'If you ever need to bypass time for a short while, you are able to come here. When a soul enters a place like this, either their own or another’s, as I have with you, their body remains unmoving, in a state of relative immortality. Only, stay but a short while, or you will loose your mind to the peace.'
And he pulled her back. She was sitting languidly in the chair again, but Keovari stood over her. He picked up her arm and clasped a bracelet around her wrist.
'Remember your oceans and remember to come back to this world of matter.' He said.

Faye turned her eyes back to Rosiel's.

---

Keovari knew he was getting closer, but his movement was being impeded, and the barrier was growing steadily as the snow continued to fall. It was starting to raise the unusual feeling of anger in him. The danger, rather then retreating, had only grown. He stopped to catch his breath and looked again at the woman in his arms. His heart beat faster and he closed his eyes. He must get her to safety.
"Faye, where are you? What is going on? Why cannot I reach you?"

---

It would be risky, especially as she was not officially welcomed to his mind. But there would be too much at risk if she didn't try to offer some help. She was not strong enough to help him back and her other options required Keovari's assistance. For now, this would buy them time.
She held Rosiel at his shoulders, making sure one of his arms was bent up to keep his hand in contact with her bracelet. Slight movements allowed her a closer hold on him, attempting to give safety and strength to both their bodies, and the freedom of movement to lightly kiss his forehead. Let me do this freely, though it pains me to fracture your trust thus, opening a path for you to my mind is the only way I can help you. I do not mean to breach your trust, but... Perhaps you have fractioned off your private thoughts and memories enough, as Mystical has done. I shall offer any apology if my choice here causes you harm in any way... It was a plea she knew would go unanswered and perhaps unheard, but she prayed that he would not hate her for this infraction. It is only for your safety... I beg your forgiveness...
She let her soul flow out and touch him lightly, calling to him and offering a portal into her own. Faye begged him to follow her and find sanctuary in her protective ocean. It would buy them time, though little else, and would allow her to consider her options or for Keovari and Mystical to catch up to her.
Oh, please, something help me. If I give up, it is Rosiel whom I fail... Not only myself.

Gabriel's suspicion and feeling of discomfort rose with every step he took through the bar. Creaking floorboards seemed to echo around the room in it's emptiness, and he gingerly took a seat at the bar, emptying his pockets onto its wooden surface.

His bottle of pills, assorted silver coins from all over the world, a handsome fountain-pen and yet another of his many writing-books were all the possessions he had left after his "payment" in exchange for his pills. Opening the book and taking up the pen, he wrote interminably once more:

November. More pills. The Cleric seems displeased. I think he's screwing me over over my payments. If this carries on, I don't know how much longer I can keep getting the meds. If that happens, I'll have to leave again. I don't want to hurt these people.

He stopped writing and once again could not stop himself thinking of the sheer discomfort of the stillness of the place. Someone was making signs of movement nearby, though he could not ascertain which of the brothers it was. Wincing slightly, he continued:

Upon return, the Seven Roses is missing its' guests. I have no clue where they have gone, but I don't like it at all. If they have indeed left, I sincerely hope they have stuck together and are playing it safe; this is a bad times to be out. I guess even vampires can have a fear of the dark.

Slowly Mystical’s small form slid around till her back was leaned up against the tree. Her gaze straight forward, she gradually lowered her right foot to the ground, adding a slight pressure as she did so. Pain! Her eyes closed tight and a slight wince flashed over her face. Though numb from the cold, there it was; a dull throbbing sensation which spread through her ankle and up into her leg. Broken... she thought she had heard a snap when she fell.

‘I hope nothing else was hurt when I fell...fell? Zade!!!’, her mind called out. Looking about frantically in a wild panic her eyes finally came to rest upon the tiny form of her dragon friend who had already wiggled her way out of the should-bag and was now seated at the woman’s feet. Before she could enquire of the dragon’s well being. Keovari’s uncharacteristically blunt words snapped her head up in astonishment.

Lips moved in some feeble attempt to speak, but all that came out was some raspy whisper of sounds that vaguely resembled words. Weather from the cold or her surprise, she could not tell. Perhaps she truly was losing her voice. The world around her began to grow dim as she fought to maintain some form of conscious thought. Then warmth, sweet warmth; his coat was around her now. This, coupled with his next unexpected action aided in drawing the Lady away from the brink of darkness.

Through the pain, she felt his touch. Soft and gentile, his hand closed about her ankle. A light chill shivered it’s way up the woman’s spine accompanied by the realization of just where his hand was. In a rush of pink, her once frosty-white cheeks quickly took on a bright and vibrant hue which continued to linger there for some time. He was trying to help her, heal her, but what was this? A wall? A barrier, but not of her own creation. Her mind and spirit were much to exhausted for such things. Then it must be... ‘What are you...?’, but before her mind could finish the thought Keovari’s form went toppling to the snowy ground. “M’lord!” She managed to squeak out the words.

Then, there it was again, that familiar mischievous laughter echoing in her head. ‘That is not amusing..’, her inner voice almost growled with anger. ‘Child of Flame, delve deep within. Use what Fate has blessed you with.’, the voice whispered in depths of her mind. ‘Nay! It is too unstable... too wild. Not whist I am so weak with exhaustion. I-‘ All the while, her soulful green eyes had been locked with his icy-blue ones, but as his hands took her’s these inner thoughts were cut short.

With palms now hovering above his heart, she felt something stirring within herself. She could feel her heart reaching out to his as her inmate empathic abilities kicked in. Soon a flood of emotions mixed with her own, and to her surprise they seemed to be similar. Their feelings almost mirror images of each other. The whole experience left her feeling light-headed as the truth of his words sank into her very soul.

For what could have been moments, or even hours, she stood on her one good leg, her hands intertwined tightly with his as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Unspoken words, feelings, and emotions of years gone past seemed to flow freely now from the usually reserved woman through the touch and deep look which she shared with the Guardian. Finally finding the strength required, the Lady began to speak. Her voice was still barely above a whisper, but dripping with emotion. “None of this.. no not any of this...is your fault. I have made my own decisions along the way. Everything that has transpired has been at the will of those more powerful than ourselves. You shall not, and will not blame yourself for my Destiny.” Pausing for a moment, she took in a sharp breath as the dizzying sensation washed over her again. Almost visibly fighting the feeling she began to speak again, her voice more determined and clear this time. “Fate chose me for a reason. It was not your kind hand that lay this burden on my shoulders. Though it may be heavy, I gladly bear it.”

A flicker of flame seemed to burn within her gaze as she continued to peer up at the man before her. Slowly that fire flickered and cooled to smoldering ash as the woman’s small form began to waver slightly before his eyes. The vertigo was finally taking it’s tole on her already spent reserves. Soon her eyes fluttered shut as the rest of her body toppled forward to lean against the Spirit. Her head rested lightly against his chest, yet her delicate hands still clung fiercely to his own with her remaining strength. Swallowing her pride, she called out to him though her delirium. “Keovari...please....carry me...”

Rosiel opened his eyes to find a woman looking down at him. She spoke, though her voice sounded distant and slurred to him, though he was sure that she wasn't drunk. After staring at her blankly, he realized that it was Faye. She had heard his calls and found him. He noticed that he wasn't lying in the wet snow anymore, either. His head was in her warm lap and she was holding both of his hands with hers; he could feel that warmth, too.

He was wondering why she was holding his hands when he felt the energy of a water elemental around him. At first, he panicked; a water elemental? Here? But then, he realized that it was Faye; she must be trying to heal him. The spell was reasonably powerful, however it wasn't very effective on an Angel. He was sure that it had helped his body a little, but he didn't feel any better.

The Angel found himself looking directly into Faye's eyes. Everything else about her was a blur, but her eyes weren't. They were a brilliant blue color, with a variety of swirls in them. Dark blues, light blues, sky blues, navy blues, royal blues, all blended and twisted together, radiating around her black pupil, where he could see himself reflected. Rosiel had a stupid look on his face; his eyes were only half-open, and his mouth was slightly adjar. To himself, he looked drunk or as if he'd been thwacked soundly upside his head.

He had felt this way before one memorable time.

It was when he had first met her.

---

The Angel had found himself on the ground from the savage kick of the captive Demoness. She was found hiding in a burned-down building by one of the soldiers under his command. Rosiel was a Captain; he had been promoted very recently. On his first assignment, he was sent out to investigate a report of some Demons possibly hiding in a small, abandoned town area.

The town was cleared of Demons several hundred years ago, and never really repopulated because of how close it was to the Angelic boarder. The buildings were built in a tight-knit network of blocks, and it was very easy to ambush Rosiel's group. Rosiel decided that it would be safer to coax anyone hiding out into the open.

He ordered two of his Angels to set fire to the first two buildings, being pretty certain that no one was inside of them, and banking on the fact that anyone inside the other buildings would assume that they would burn the rest of them, and run out to surrender rather than die.

Rosiel's plan worked, for the most part. One of the Demons was pleading for them to stop before someone got burned. A woman couldn't get out or wouldn't get out. The Demon was so upset that they couldn't understand which building she was in, so they all split up to find her quickly. One of Rosiel's soldiers found her, but she wouldn't come out with him. It took several of them to get her under control, and when Rosiel had come up to her with the intent of soothing her and telling to calm down, that she wouldn't be hurt, she kicked him in the stomach and sent him flying backwards, because he wasn't expecting to be attacked.

She dragged the two soldiers holding her back and actually made it all of the way to Rosiel before they could restrain her properly.

And so, there he was, lying on the ground.

---

And then again, there was Faye. Not the Demoness, just Faye. Faye and her water magic.

Warmth.

And Confusion.

This time, the fear consumed Keovari. He felt his heart skip a breath when she was suddenly not beside him. In a flurry of snow, he spun and turned to her, rushing over. About to blurt out a string of questions, worry, and apologies, at his wits end of harrowed worry, he forced himself to stop short and catch her soft voice.

---

Faye tried to see past the quickening drifts of snowing wind that fled past her, but it was getting more difficult and her cries seemed to be consumed before they even reached her own ears. she would have to chance it. Drawing Satsurai from it's sheath, she advanced in the direction of the moving figure. Her progress was slow, but the closer she got the more positive she was that it was her new friend.

---

"Like hell." He said bluntly.
He removed his overcoat and made sure his shirt sleeves covered the old scars, then held it out for her. He knelt down before looking back to her face, "Please excuse this, my Lady." He slipped one hand lightly around her ankle and closed his eyes, letting his energy seep out to her skin. An unexpected wall seemed to smack him back. He frowned deeply and tried again. This time the force knocked him to the snowy earth. Keovari's frown deepened as he stood. Why can I not help her? He frowned as he searched her face as if expecting an answer to appear there. Because of...her?
But the necessity to help and protect Mystical overwhelmed his hesitance, and he stepped closer, "Please allow me to carry you back to our previous lodgings. You have been made weak enough as it is, though my own mistakes, and now you most certainly cannot move. Neither I will not leave you here. I apologize, Mystical."
He held out his hands as he again stepped closer, his icy blue eyes glued to her beautiful green, apologizing and pleading with her.
"I truly regret what my mistakes have done to you already. I... cannot allow worse..." He took another step closer, expiring the space between them, and slipping his hands around both of hers, holding them to his heart.
He spoke softly now, his voice heavy with the deep worry that made him act unlike his reserved self, "Mystical, I have no choice, my heart will not allow any more harm to come to you... All this time away, I have wished only to be with you again, to take on the burden that Fate unfairly surrendered to your shoulders. It is because of my actions in a failed attempt to assist you, that you have to wring from yourself more strength then you should be required to find. Now, again, I have bought you what you do not deserve..." He paused and squeezed her hands gently, "...I... care... far too much for you to allow you to be alone in your battles any longer. I am sorry for my inadequate assistance before now and assure you, I will guide and support you as you deserve."
He stopped, but continued to hold her gaze, finding himself selfishly unable to let go of the comforting enchantment they exuded.

---

Feet away from the figure she had been pursuing, Faye realized it was indeed her friend. Rather then joy at finding him, her stomach dropped. She tucked Satsurai back into its home, then dashed the last few yards to him.
"Rosiel?" She knelt into the cushion of snow, and took his hand in both her own, "Rosiel?" She asked, growing deeply worried. The small woman took one hand, removed the glove which she tossed aside. She lay it on his forehead before snapping it back in surprise, eyes wide. She slowly lay it back down, feeling the heat.
"You... are quite ill," Faye whispered sadly and she reached up to removed the cloak Lady Mystical had given her, sending another guilty pang of worry through Faye's heart. She moved closer and gently pulled Rosiel up to her lap, then tucked the cloak around him. She removed her other glove, then lay one hand on his forehead, the other taking his hand up again, "I may not be able to offer much to someone like you... But healing is one of my crafts..."
She closed her eyes and let the silky light of her water energy slide from her heart into his body, and from her hand into his fevered head. Instantly she felt that her talents would do little to help him, but she pressed on, offering what she could.
It's my fault.
She did not notice the tears growing in her eyes, "I am so sorry, Rosiel. You have been so helpful and welcoming to me. This is my own fault, but I will not let my carelessness cause you such illness and pain as this. I regret what my mistakes have done to you... I will not allow worse." The tears slid down her cheeks and merged with her water energy which slowly fed off the snow around them as her own store of energy neared failing. She felt them move slowly down as the snow released itself into her magnetic call, letting them touch the frozen earth.
Faye wished in the back of her mind that she had some of Mystical's warmth to offer, before slipping into the gentle wash of blankness that accompanied her more powerful spells. The cold was unimportant now, the desperation of her depression distant. What mattered now was Rosiel’s safety.
Her lips moved in soft patterns, repeating the spell, strengthening it as Nature gave her it's wild power so freely. She let her watery healing slip into his body, hoping it would sooth Rosiel.

Rosiel was still kneeling when he heard something answer his harsh shout, but he could barely hear anything because of he was still coughing. His face was begining to turn red, and tears were streaming from his eyes. By the time the cough was tapering down to a weak wheeze, the Angel felt something cold stinging his face. He heard someone shouting his name in the distance, but it felt like his ears weren't listening correctly, and a sensation of vertigo suddenly swept over him, and the voice did not register properly with him.

He bit his lip, laid down in the snow, face-first, and extended his wings to cover his body, hoping that whoever was around wouldn't notice him. The voice sounded again, and he realized that someone was calling his name. It was a woman. It was Faye. Rosiel folded his wings, and rolled over, then wiped the tears and snow from his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a hackling cough.

The Angel was able to stifle this one rather quicky, and hoarsly managed to call out Faye's name again, hoping she could hear him. He assumed the cough and the sore throat were from shouting, but he didn't understand why he felt so dizzy all of a suddenl. He tried to get up, but only got as far as a sitting position. The colors of the world seemed to dim, at first, then suddenly grow bright, as if lit by the very light of Heaven. His vision switched between these two before adding another twist; everything seemed to blend together, and then become runny, like wet paint.

He decided it would be better to stay on the ground for now.

Rosiel's head hit the snow with a muffled pak, and he stared up at the moonlit sky. The moon was still out, but there were plenty of clouds, it seemed; once in a while, one of them would cover the white-blue orb, and he would be cast in darkness. But the darkness looked too bright. Was it his vision playing tricks on him again?

And then the Angel realized that it was snowing again. He'd been feeling the sting of the snowflakes against his hot cheeks, but didn't realize what it was. Brilliant white-cold dust, carried by the wind. He closed his eyes, listening to the soft crackle of the snow, low moan of the now-present wind, and listening for Faye's calls.

She didn't shout for a while, and he began to wonder what happened. It was then that he noticed that his body felt numb. Normally, he would have been fine with the cold. Rosiel could lie naked, out in the cold. It wouldn't have bothered him. I must be sick, he thought. I was so worked up this morning over feeling them in the pine forest that I didn't even notice that I was sick. I wonder if I have a temperature?

He slowly raised his hand and felt his forehead with his wrist. It felt burning hot, but he wasn't sure if that meant he actually had a fever, or if that was just because everything else felt cold to him. He tried to get up again, but the dizziness prevented him from even sitting up. Instead, he resorted to occasionally shouting Faye's name, hoping it wouldn't send him into another coughing fit.

He dimly wondered what Stefan was doing, and decided that if he didn't have some fires going, and a nice, warm dinner ready by the time they got back, he'd probably kill him.

It was true, the bitter winter’s cold was taking a dramatic tole on the Lady, one which she had not anticipated. Her aching limbs pressed on, stiff joints almost frozen in place, were forced to work against their will. The focus and drive that filled the woman had all but blocked out the cries from afar.

The sudden stop of her companions pulled her body to a halt with a light jerk. Slowly a stunned and questioning gaze turned to peer around the Guardian at Faye. With the new spark of life that had suddenly ignited in her friend, Mystical found herself tilting her head to the side, seeming lost. The bite of the cold had not only frozen over her body, but her mind as well. Only now did she finally register the call in the distance.

Faye dashed off, and all began to sink in very slowly into her numb mind. Keovari’s words now caught her attention, and she mustered a quick nod before whispering in a ghostly voice, “I shall run with thee... Let us go then..” Her frozen grip, tightened even more around the man’s arm before she summoned all her remaining strength, drawing from deep within. Long crimson skirts rustled to life as she bolted forward, running alongside the Spirited man.

She could still feel her friend’s presence close by, and then.. something or.. Someone else as well. Pressing on in her blind chase, she was so focused on finding dear Faye, that she completely missed the large tree root caked in snow. Her bright eyes may have missed it, but her narrow foot certainly did not. In a instant she went from running along at Keovari’s side, to laying face down in the frigid snow. The crumpled form of the woman remained motionless for a moment before a soft whimpering moan emitted from the slowly rising heap. Clinging onto the same tree that tripped her, she leaned heavily against the trunk and gasped in a breathy whisper, “Please Keovari... go to her. Go on.. without me...”

As they moved, Keovari's face grew more and more grim. He felt Faye's cold distance whenever he tried to touch her mind. It was disconcerting. He was always welcomed warmly in the confines of her mind. On his other side, the Lady was losing the battle with the cold. She was not made for cold like he expected them to be feeling. Where Faye's blocking him added fear, it was the Lady's guard being down that caused deep worry. He pulled him both closer gently, worried. Fearful.
"I am sorry for putting you two in this position," He said in a low tone, "I have made a terrible mistake. However, I will be sure you too are safe and warm as soon as possible."
The Guardian was moving faster, half carrying both women, as he tried to return them to safety. Half blind and deaf by his worry, he did not hear the calls immediately. The noise was in the background, unimportant. Do not bother your attention to something apart from protecting them. Just go.

---

Faye Stopped. She faintly felt Keovari pulling gently, begging her to move. But something was floating past the blankness. A voice. Her name.
She opened her mouth slowly. "Hello?" she said softly, staring straight ahead. Her mind fought against the sludge it was resting in. What was it. Why was it familiar. Her name. No. The voice was familiar.
She glanced to the right. That was where she heard it. A yell. Her name.
Suddenly, Faye's mind had flung itself back on, the gears burst into life.
Her jaw dropped, her skirts rustled softly as she raised them, and she ran.
"Hello!?"
"Rosiel!?"

---

Keovari stood stunned for a moment, blankly confused.
"Faye!"
He turned to Mystical and shook his head.
"My apologies. I cannot leave you unattended in this weather, I must ask you to run with me, or let me carry you. Again, I apologize, but I must follow Faye." His eyes pleased forgiveness for what his mistakes were putting her through that night. He remembered her tightening grip as they had walked along, and it made his heart sink.

---

Faye moved on, pulling herself with what little normalcy of herself that had been brought back when she heard the man's call. He is looking for me out in this weather? She felt bad. How many would her problems cause pain to this night?
She moved faster in the direction she had heard his voice come from. The cold was ripping at her, but her blood was warm from the sudden movement. Her joints cracked from the sudden exercise, but she stayed strong.
Determined to find him she called his name again. She stopped, threw out sensors with what little magic she could reach, and without losing a breath turned in the direction that seemed most likely.
Some feet ahead of her she saw a form that seemed incredibly separate from the forest.
"Rosiel?" She called, the ice chilling down into her lungs. It stung and she coughed.
She moved on tentatively.
"Is it you?"

As the others rose to their feet, Mystical quickly scooped up her scaley companion and tucked her away nice and secure in the warm depths of her shoulder-bag once more. The small creature gently nuzzled the woman’s hand before ducking her head back into the bag and quickly curling up, tucking her leathery wings about her huddled form. Rising slowly on weary legs, the Lady soon turned to her friends once more and offered a faint, but reassuring grin to the dark-haired woman. Gently, and with the utmost care she secured her own cloak firmly around Faye’s shoulders before giving a light nod of approval. “That should help keep you warm until we reach shelter once more.”

Tilting her piercing gaze towards the Guardian, her washed-out face took on a very serous visage. Slowly she shook her head in disagreement, a small hand waved lightly as if to dismiss the notion all together. “Nonsense m’lord, it was my fault idling so long in the woods with those ruffians. I should have dispatched them immediately instead of engaging in our prolonged game of ‘cat n’ mouse.’ It is I, who owe you and dear Faye the apology for making you wait so terribly long on my arrival.”

Mystical stood close, helping to steady her friend’s weak form. At the offer of the arm she seemed a bit flustered as if torn between what to do. Part of her thought it best to stay by Faye’s side, to make certain all was well. Then deeper down she felt a longing, an unexplainable need to be by his side. With a light step she slip around to the other side of Keovari and gingerly accepted the arm offered to her. Almost instantly a calm washed over her, a feeling she had not felt for such a very long time. What was this?

‘Silly girl...’, the voice was back, ‘You truly do not understand do you?’ Mystical mused over these words for a moment before offering a quizzical response, ‘What is there to understand?’ A soft mischievous giggle echoed through her mind before the voice came again in an almost taunting tone, ‘You shall see... In time, you both shall see.’ As quickly as it came, the voice vanished into the depths of her soul once more. A look of worry and confusion washed over the woman’s face, but only for the briefest of moments. She had more important things to worry about than -Her- tauntings.

Faye’s hollow voice soon snapped her attention back to the hear and now. With an eager nod she gave a slightly timid tug on the man’s arm and began to step forward, leading the trio off into the forests in the direction of the familiar bar. With the protection of her cloak, Mystical’s small frame had weathered the cold rather well, but without it the elements soon began to eat away at her thinner garments. Walking on in silence, the Lady found it increasingly hard to even concentrate let alone maintain a hold on her usual mental blocks and bindings. Heaving a defeated sigh she finally let go of the last one and allowed her mind to fully rest.

Her body, however: was another story all together. Try as she might not even she could hide the fact that the wind was cutting her to the bone. Slender hands began to tremble uncontrollably, soon followed by the rest of her frame. The wind began to pick up, sending her hair flying off wildly in all directions like a blazing bonfire, leaving her ghostly pale face fully exposed. Long fingers now held fast to the Spirit of a man, both hands gripping him tight for both stability and any shread of warmth she might find. Still burning in her emerald eyes was a look of stead-fast determination as the trudged on through the snowy night.

Rosiel walked on steady, the snow softly crackling under his feet. He stopped to rest against a small little pine tree, panting slightly. The more deeply he traveled into the forest, the deeper the snow was becoming, and the harder it was for him to move around. In the moonlight, he noticed tracks in the snow, before him. There were six pairs of prints. One pair belonged to a medium sized bipedal creature, and the other two belong to a small animal of some sort.

What confused him was that the animal's prints seemed to grow larger at one point. He left his resting place at the small pine to follow them. They eventually got large enough for him to tell that they belonged to some kind of reptile. To further add to his confusion, both creatures' tracks suddenly stopped at a large pile of displaced snow. It looked as if the large creature had flown away, or otherwise disappeared.

Puzzled, Rosiel leaned against the trunk of another tree. The tip of his left wing brushed against a snow-laden branch, which promptly undloaded on the Angel. He sputtered and shook the snow off of his back. The half-panic state was back now; he was reminded that the night was getting colder and colder, and he needed to find Faye as quickly as possible.

His shirt was now soaked, and he was shivering slightly. He didn't mind the cold by itself, but it was ten times worse now that he was wet. The feathers on his wings expanded and fluffed themselves, making it look like he had a giant ball of fuzz on his back. He calmly waited until his body got over the surprise, and went on once his wings were back to normal.

Maybe she doesn't remember that I was calling her Josephine, he thought. Rosiel massaged his throat; he had been calling out "Josephine" for as long as he was walking, and it hurt slightly. The chilly air wasn't helping.

But maybe she's lost, he thought. God knows what happened, and I can't concentrate enough to find her. He decided that she may not recognize Josephine, so he called our her actual name as he slowly walked past the odd tracks.

"FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYEEEEEEE!" he managed before he kneeled down with his fist over his mouth, in a coughing fit.

As the moonlight curved over her soft skin, Faye was responding to the cold in a blanket of worst depression. All she could think of was Gabriel. Her thoughts soared to the past, collecting now heartbreaking images of their pure happiness...
She was laying in a plush bed, warm and welcoming. A small area of Faye in the large castle around them. Gabriel knocked and walked in. She smiled. He returned it. The were in each others arms...
Faye could not help the bitterness and tears. The blackness encroaching at her mind echoed of the sweet release she may find in her deepest mind and soul. Hidden away, where she had retreated when losing him one other time. She searched for relief. But the tortured soul was not to be relieved. Not to be helped. Her pain would be extended. Her heart broken into smaller and smaller pieces and the compassionate Faye could not detach.
The sobs wracked her body as she tried to contain them.

---

Keovari's heart ached as he felt the darkness filtering away all the goodness he was accustomed to. He stroked her hair gently and kissed her forehead lightly.
"Dear one, you must calm yourself. For I cannot help you in this state and I hurt for your pain."
But she didn't answer, her internal pain was pressing at the confines of her body, reaching for an exit into the world. He saw her fight to contain it as if letting it free would release demons into this heavenly white world around them.
He closed his eyes, finding salvation in the silky touch of the moonlight. Asking for help. He was torn and this feeling of helplessness was beyond him. Keovari Seriph was used to being able to help. His loved ones were torn apart, thrown into further chaos then they had already been experiencing, and he could do nothing.
He silently cursed the upper levels who had sent him here. If they knew his charge would end up this way, broken in heart and slowly cracking in mind... If Gabriel would be so wretchedly torn from her arms... If they knew his... If they knew the Lady would be ripped away... Her life changed in an instant... Why did they not prepare him for this. He cursed them from the deepest places in his heart. The pain of his dearest ones rising in him an energy that the upper levels would regret letting grow. Did they not remember who he was?
"Faye, please. We must get you to warmth."

---

Unlike herself, she ignored his words. Faye ached to follow them and please Keovari, but the pain that encompassed her plead for relief and she could focus on nothing else.
In a whirlwind, she felt a warmth spreading from her soul, healing and beautiful. Her face turned up. Keovari was alert as well. Faye gasped and choked on her tears.
She heard her name spoken, but fell into the comfort of her true friend's embrace and clung to her warmth. Faye felt guilty for her collapse to Mystical, but the Lady made her feel so warm against the stinging cold she'd been slowly numbing to moments ago.
Words floated through Faye's head, bursting to be said, to thank, to cry, to beg, wanting to lavish Mystical with their love.
Thank you...
Faye's body, weak, clung to Mystical and Keovari, wanting a third arm to send her thanking love to sweet Scheherazade.

---

Keovari felt relief fill every part of him. The appearance of Lady Mystical was a good omen, a hint of power and strength, of goodness.
Best of all, the dear Mystical was safe.
He could not take his eyes off of her, a strange warmth of happiness flowing through him. He met her gaze with his own powerful eyes, their ice blue sharp and full. He let her call bring out his soul, following the sweet feeling of her true warmth as they held a steady and powerful look.
Her voice seemed to startle him. In a crash he remembered what was happening, why Faye was weakly in the Lady's arms, why they were in what must be a furious cold, and worst of all, he remembered what would happen to the women if he allowed them to stay here. His protective instinct flowed freely again and he stood, lifting Faye to her feet. She turned her face up to him, the usually passionate eyes blank.
"Keovari, where are we going?" He thought her voice sounded too soft and distant.
"Back. That man at the Seven Roses was kind to you," He turned again to the figure with the burning aura, "My deep apologies, my Lady. I am afraid our worry for you clouded our judgment. My own especially."
He tucked Faye's arm in his, holding her gloved hand tightly to help support her, then offered his other arm to Mystical. He hoped she would take it and return to his side. He did not understand why he hoped.

---

Faye looked around at the snowy world. she felt as if everything was moving slowly and she opened her eyes wider as if doing so would return the normal speed of life. She heard Keovari speaking to Mystical, but the words seemed slurred and unimportant to her. She felt his grip, strong and protective. She missed the her friend's warmth, but did not feel the cold as she had before as if Mystical's fire remained inside, warming her. The moonlight seemed like sugar, making the snow sweeter. Faye's mind whirled.
A breeze rushed past, blowing her hair behind her and off her skin. She moved her face, feeling the last strands sail off. The moonlight felt like silk against her face. She tried, confused, to understand how the moonlight was both sugar and silk. She laughs aloud softly, no smile upon her face.
One word pounded in her mind with her heartbeat. Gabriel.
Gabriel.
Gabriel.
She felt Keovari's gentle tug.
Gabriel.
She looked at him, he was out of focus. She blinked and he became sharp again.
Faye shook her head, "I am fine. I am not falling father into depression." It was not a lie. She felt as if Depression were trying to create another level to accommodate her pain. She knew Keovari and Mystical understood. She wished they did not.
Gabriel.
"Let us go?" She offered in her dead voice.

An apparition in black darted through the thick brush of the frozen wood. Hours seemed to pass as she wove her way through the trees, leading them on as they chased in hot pursuit of the petite cloaked figure. “That’s it, follow the Lady..” She whispered softly to herself, her voice a hauntingly beautiful alto tone with a light accent. Echos of several male voices wafted to hear ears on the blistering wind, assuring the woman of their presence some distance behind her.

As she ran on in the bitter cold her mind drowned in a flood of thought and worry. Were they alright? Did all the thieves follow her? Would she even be able to find them again? These were only a hand-full of the questions that plagued her mind. The parting was much too abrupt, too soon. Once again her stability.. No, her sanity, was ripped from her very core! So close, he was so very close, now gone once more like snow in the spring.

‘You fool!’, a voice cried out from the depths of her mind, ‘You should have gone with them!’ But deep inside she knew this was not so. Angrily she pushed at the voice, locking it away once more. ‘Silence! This is my life not thy own.’, her own inner voice hissed in response. Intentionally she had dashed off in the opposite direction from her companions, in hope of drawing the thieves away. Thankfully, her plot had worked like a charm. With every step she took, the woman had left a distinct trail; prints that sank all the way down to the ground itself, the snow oddly melted away as if by some great heat.

The Lady found herself wondering if they would ever give up the chase. It was growing dark now, and the already unbearable temperature continued to drop with the coming of night. Shivers and chills crept up the woman’s spine as her slender glove-clad hands moved to wrap her midnight black woolen cloak firmly about her upper frame. “Time to end this.”, she whispered once more, as if speaking aloud to someone unseen. In a sudden fluid motion she swooped around a large evergreen and slunk her way into it’s bristly bows for concealment.

Dropping to her knees in the shadows of the tree, the small enigmatic woman produced a bag of substantial size from beneath her cloak and set it to rest upon the ground before her. A delicate golden snout protruded from the opening of the bag soon followed by a blur of wings and scale. The cat-sized dragon peered around herself intently before tilting her small head up to gaze knowingly at the kneeling woman. The dark hood bobbed a few times in a nod, and a gloved hand made a shooing gesture at the tiny dragon. Without hesitation, Scheherazade darted from the safety of the tree, out into the open of the forest. Leaning back against the tree trunk, the Lady brought her hands together, intertwining the fingers. Whispering an incantation in a now forgotten tongue, her blueing lips emitted a fine vapor into the cold with each breath.

Abruptly, the once tiny dragon grew in size, taking on a form large enough for even a human to ride upon. With a flick of the head and a low growl the golden dragon darted out from behind the cluster of pines, running headlong into the band of thieves who had finally caught up. Nashing her large sharp teeth in a menacing manor, the dragon then tossed back her head and let out a thunderous roar as she spread her wings wide to emphasize her size and power. A loud cry of terror rang out though the forest as the band of men were confronted by the monstrous form in the dimming light. In a shamble of screams and cries for help, the thieves quickly dispersed in all directions, soon vanishing out of sight.

When the coast was clear, Mystical emerged from the thick of the tree limbs. A soft chuckle lilted from her lips. Bringing her hands together, she clapped at the dragons magnificent performance and beamed a pleased grin at her golden companion. “Well done, well done!”, she chuckled as she lovingly wrapped her arms about the creature’s neck in a quick hug. Emitting a contented purr-like sound, the dragon lowered herself flat against the ground. In one fluid motion the Lady sprung atop the dragons’ back, before seating herself sidesaddle. “Now, we must find out friends. I do hope they are safe.” As the woman spoke, the dragon rose once more and spread her wings as wide before taking off into a low swooping soar through the trees.

Skillfully the dragon and rider traced the faint, yet unmistakable auras of their friends. They glided silently through the cover of the trees for some time, before finally stumbling upon the hiding place of the ones they sought. Scheherazade had not fully landed before Mystical leapt from the dragon’s back and landed with grace onto the snowy ground below. Her heart sank as Faye’s overwhelmingly frigid dispar hit her head-on. “Faye...”, her words trailed off as she quickly moved closer with an unsure step. Gloved digits swiftly moved to unclasp the heavy woolen cloak from around her neck. Then, with a swish of fabric she used the cloak to cover the other woman’s trembling form. Her caring arms draped about Faye, pulling her close in an unnaturally warm embrace.

In the midst of all the emotional strain, Mystical had lost concentration on her spell, and the dragon had shrunk back down to her original size. Vividly deep-green eyes, bursting with flicks of gold stared out at the Spirit beside her. Their intense gaze called out to his soul and spoke the words her lips could not. A worried Scheherazade crept over and began to nuzzle gently at the woman in Mystical’s arms. The once shrouded woman, was now fully visible. She was a petite thing, with an almost athletic build, accented just so by a womanly shape. Vibrant silky-smooth locks trailed over her shoulders in a hue that would rival the purest of flames. Her velvety skin was pallid, though the numbing cold made her appear more blanched than ever. A delicate nose rested between high cheekbones, and a sprinkling of freckles dotted her kind face.

Holding the gaze for a moment longer, she seemed lost in Keovari’s eyes. Finally her voice returned to her and she spoke out softly, but with a feel of urgency in her tone. “We must get her to shelter, or else she is lost to us.”

The sun had now completely set and Stefan was watching Rosiel make the beds of the guest rooms while he was sitting on a chair, which he had been doing for hours. Rosiel was very meticulous. After his brother was done straightening out the thin cotton cover with the supplied wool blanket on top, Stefan stood, went to the pile of folded sheets by Rosiel's feet, and picked one of them up.

"What are you doing?" he asked, raising a brow.

"It's for Keo," Stefan replied, arranging the sheet in a small circular-like nest on the floor beside the bed that was originally Faye's

"And what the Hell is Keo going to need something like that for?"

"Well, he's a kitty..."

"Stefan, are you really that thick?"

"What are you talking about-"

"We can discuss this later. We have a guest."

"Huh, what-"

"Shush! Just make the bed, and be quick about it. And remember - Josephine," Rosiel whispered, handing Stefan one of the smaller pillows, gesturing toward the "cat bed". Stefan took it, with a blank look, but he knew better than to question his brother. He set the pillow to one side, under the sheet, giving half of it a raised look, like a lopsided doughnut.

"All right," Rosiel said taking an extra blanket with him. "You're going to go greet Gabriel downstairs... give him some food, some drink -I've even taken the liberty of obtaining some blood for him. It's mine though, mind you, and if he wants more of it, he'd better ask permission before trying to get some. And just in case he's never had Angel's blood before, warn him; it may make him "high" because of the whole divine being thing. I know that it will give him a temperary increase in physical strength and give him protection from "holy" objects.

"I've also heard that it may protect him from the sun for a short time, perhaps an hour or two, but I'm not sure of that one. I've heard the tale from other Angels, but never a vampire; I don't regularly keep contact with them for long without killing them," Rosiel finished, tucking the blanket into a medium sized pack, made of a soft black leather, then he slung it around his shoulder.

"Why aren't you attacking Gabriel, then?"

"He's not a mindless beast, obviously."

"All right - what's that blanket for, then?"

"I'm going out. I'll need it. I should be back in a few hours. Have dinner for several people ready by that time."

"Would it kill you to tell me where you're going for once?" Stefan said, folding his arms across his chest, giving his older brother an annoyed look.

"Yes," replied Rosiel with a smile, hugging Stefan.

"What should I tell if it's ask?"

"The truth. You don't know. That way it can't be coaxed out of you."

With that, Rosiel dismissed the simple spell that hid his three large, feathery wings from site, and opened the window, then poked his head out, examing the ground bellow, to make sure that no one was watching who would notice his wings and not like noticing them.

Stefan looked blankly at Rosiel, then understanding seemed to dawn on him.

"All right. I'll make sure to have a portion of food prepared for Miss Josephine's cat, too. Where can I find the blood for Gabriel?"

"That's a good boy," Rosiel said softly. "The blood is right outside, next to where you keep your axe. I figured that Gabriel would like the taste of it better when it's cold. I have several wine flasks filled with it. They've got a black cap unlike the usual silver-colored ones, so that you don't accidently give Gabriel my expensive Damson wine."

Before Stefan could say anything else, Rosiel had jumped out of the window, landing with a muffled crunch below. Stefan peeked out of the window, to see Rosiel lay down in the snow, and spread his wings over his body. He looked like a lump of snow in the moonight, and anyone looking could tell no better.

After being satisfied that Rosiel was all right, Stefan closed the window to keep the room warm, and left the room, locking the door behind him. He went downstairs, expecting to greet Gabriel.

Once Rosiel was certain that it was safe to move without detection, he moved one of his wings gently to the side so that he could peek at his surroundings. The Hartmann's were asleep; not a single light shone in their barn or their small house. Javen's General Store was still open; he could see the old man reading a book behind his counter through the frosty glass. Otherwise, everyone else seemed to already be asleep.

The moon was out, but at the moment a cloud was covering it. Taking advantage of the moment, Rosiel quickly stood, secured his pack, folded his wings against his back, and dashed off toward the western edge of the settlement. The night had grown colder, as was shown by the crunches under his feet has he made his way, as opposed to the soft paf paf he would have heard had it been morning. This only made him more worried for Faye.

He wasn't sure if Keovari would have minded the cold or not, but he was certain that it was much too cold for someone else to stay outside for too long. He was even hoping that Barkjon had decided to call it a night and give up.

As he reached The Blue Tree, the cloud had finally moved away from the moon, and he was basked in its' silvery light. He ducked under the prickly branches of The Blue Tree, and gently touched its' trunk, letting his fingers slide on the rough surface. Rosiel let out a soft whine, and rubbed his cheek against the rough surface, making a sound similar to a cat's purr. He then pressed his lips against the bark, as if kissing it, and made his way from under the old pine.

The forest was dense enough to allow little moonlight to pass through the many branches of the trees, both pine and other varieties. Rosiel looked about him for any sign of movement. After he was certain that the only movement he'd see was his own breath and the occasional stirring of branches from the wind, he pressed on.

He occasionally called, "Josephine!" as he looked, hoping that Faye would recognize his voice, and that if Barkjon was around, he'd go for Rosiel, or run from him, leaving Faye alone.

Fighting his way out of the coat surrounding him, Gabriel's eyes shimmered in bright silver moonlight. His tense muscles relaxed, and the hysteria taking him over seemed to breathe itself out of every pore, like a balloon deflating. Within his mind a serene peace came across him, and he felt re-affirmed in every fibre.

Picking himself up, he leapt from wall to wall on each side of the alley until he arrived at the rooftops. Sighting the Seven Roses some distance away, he began to jump from roof to roof, bounding at great speed back to his temporary home.

Crashing back through the door to the bar, Gabriel was immediately struck by the stillness of the place. Stefan and Rosiel were upstairs, but they were the only auras he could sense. Mystie was not there; neither was Miss Josephine, not even her cat. He knew it was strange for them all to have simply left at the same time, but there was not even the slightest indication of where they had gone; it was as if they had all decided to run to the hills.

Faye started shivering harder, the cold making her wish for the numbness of Alyria. The treacherous thought was beat and stung, tossed from her mind, punished. Never.
She clenched her fingers tighter together, feeling her fingers' straining muscles protesting the treatment. The struggle was tugging at her energy store. The cold was making her weak. She needed heat.
But she was not going to let on if she could help it. She would hold out, stay strong, and wait for her dear friend.
Letting long strands of black fall down like a frame, light bangs softening her sweet face, she soaked up the slight addition of warmth her long hair offered. As she swept her fingers through her locks lightly, she tried to throw her mind onto a heartening topic. Pulling thoughts and memories from her mind with each brush. Only one topic filled her mind enough to shield the cold and this topic only made her heart colder.

Gabriel... His image filled her mind.
No. She closed her eyes and released the thoughts with a shake of her head.

"Keovari..."

--

Keovari Seriph had his eyes open wide. His senses were unfocused, spread wide around them waiting for a perception of the Lady's unmistakable self or the more unfamiliar shadows of the strangers. He felt Faye shivering harder and knew he'd have to get her out of the air.
No matter how much he wanted to wait for Lady Mystical here, he had to get his charge to a safe place. He wanted to take care of Faye, too. Torn between the two problems, he was jolted by her soft voice.
"Yes, Faye." He said neutrally, curious to what she might say.
"Keovari... I miss him. I know that it may be silly to say it now, it is obvious. But i miss him. I can't do this." Defeat. He cringed at the defeat he heard in her tones, a sound so rarely sung by this strong woman. His steady eyes turned, boring inside of her to find emptiness and foggy loss. Faye finally turned her eyes upon, their vivacity beating into him, and draining painfully. He watched, horrified, as her breath seemed to send out her feelings with each try.
Don't you give up, now!

--

Faye could think of nothing more pleasant and simple then giving up and giving in. How easy it would be to never have think about things, to never feel, nor worry about unleashing Alyria's wrath.
How easy and beautiful.
"You idiot, don't give up now!" His words were harsh but they snapped her back Clicked into place.
Angrily, she remembered.
"I want to. He cannot know me. I cannot know him. Life is empty!"

Outside, Stefan kept chopping the logs into smaller bits, fit enough for the fire places. His hands began to ache, and then finally went numb, but he kept chopping anyway. A bit of pain was preferable to his brother when he was already in a pissy mood. Not to mention that you put him in that mood, his mind whispered.

When had a rather large pile of the smaller bits of wood ready, he dropped the axe on the ground, as if glad to be rid of it, and collected the wood in sturdy wooden boxes that Rosiel had prepared. Stefan called out toward the bar area, hoping that Rosiel would have kept one of the windows open to avoid getting over-heated in a kitchen area. After waiting for several minutes with no answer, he called out again.

Annoyed, he went to the bar, but paused at the entrance and looked back at The Blue Tree. Most of the snow had now fallen off of it, and Stefan assumed that it was because of the animals. But he wondered why the other trees hadn't been touched by them; they were still snow-laden. He was startled by the door opening behind him, and his brother emerging, fully dressed, with a simple white shirt and the same black trousers from earlier, however dust-free and with an elegant dress-belt.

"Are you finished?" he asked, with his hands on his hips in an annoyed way.

"Yeah, just need to bring the boxes inside. I was going to ask for your help."

"You're tired; I'll take care of it. Go and get dressed, all right?"

Stefan nodded and went inside, grateful of the warm interior. Rosiel didn't mind the cold at all, unless it was his feet or hands, but Stefan hated it. It was one of the reasons he was so reluctant to stay in Ravenholm. Stefan was originally also dressed in black trousers, but he had on a matching black button-up shirt. Both the trousers and the shirt were dirty with snow, wood shavings and chips, and his shirt was drenched in sweat.

He went to his quarters, which were next to Rosiel's, to change. He selected sturdy canvas trousers of a dark blue color, and another black shirt. He couldn't find any of his belts, so he decided to peek into Rosiel's room, to borrow one.

As his brother was particular about his things, Stefan thought it better to simply borrow a belt without asking, and returning it later. After making sure that Rosiel was still outside, packing the wood away in the boxes before carrying them in with a quick glance out one of the windows, he snuck into his older brother's room.

Rosiel's room was as neat as Stefan's, but he didn't know where Rosiel kept his belts. He started to look around while trying not to disturb his belongings too much. He ended up finding a belt tucked under the Angel's bed, along with other curious items. There was a silver cross, which made sense, as Rosiel was an Angel, but why under the bed? There were two bottles of Vodka, one half drained and the other unopened.

Stefan frowned, but decided that now was not the best time to persue it. He also found a necklace, but before he could properly examine it, he heard the entrance door slam shut, meaning that Rosiel was inside. He hurriedly stuffed everything except the belt back under the bed, and silently walked to the door. By the clacks that his boots were making on the wooden floor, Stefan could hear that Rosiel was going upstairs to distribute the wood there first.

When he was sure that Rosiel was upstairs, Stefan got out of Rosiel's room, and dashed inside his own room, then layed on the bed, waiting to be told what to do.

Ice-blue eyes peeked from behind a fall of dark hair. In a cold, desolate alleyway there sat a hunched, black-clad figure; his long coat wrapped around him like shroud, the only sign of colour the brilliant, almost-white reflection from his pale face. He sat entrenched in shadows, letting their cool shade sustain him and keep him safe. His mortal enemy, the Sun, mocked him as it nourished the world around him.

He lay in a state of semisomnia, his eyes heavy, unable to fix upon the moving figures in the distance at the end of the alley. Sound and light blurred into one and melted through his mind like drops of liquid metal in a furnace. He had lain there for a long time, waiting for the moon to re-appear; then, the world was his domain again. But for now, he was but a stranger in a strange land.

It felt as if it had been years since he had sat at the bar at the Seven Roses. Years since he had felt the joy of seeing Mystie again, since he had sworn blind Faye was in the room. Pinned into a corner by daylight as he was, all he had were his own thoughts. In his pocket, his fingers toyed with the bottle of pills he had acquired in exchange for assorted valuables, shamefully stolen out of desperation from other creatures of the night. There was only enough in the bottle for a month, but he could feel his natural bloodthirst begin to take over him. If it grew too great, then by the time the night came about, he would go in search of a kill. Gabriel had to make a choice; delve into his precious supply, or risk his very soul?

His shaking hands snapped the bottle open, and he extracted a single pill with great difficulty. Crunching it in his mouth, shiny white fangs glinting out of the darkness, he clenched his fists as he felt the thirst being purged from him. It was never pleasant, but when the thirst had as strong as hold as it did then, it was agonising.

Screwing his eyes shut and bashing his head against the brick wall behind him, Gabriel let out a small cry of pain and grief. The sun still blazed; salvation was not yet here.

The Angel stood silently behind his younger brother. He was going to push him off of the log, sprawling face-first into the cold snow, but before he got a chance to even raise his arms, a suddenly feeling of foreboding came over him. His body stiffened, but it wasn't from the cold.

Slowly, he turned to face the western side of the snow-covered forest, where the trees had begun to thicken in their numbers. He stood, gazing at a certain tree, as if mesmerized by it. The tree was a tall old pine, with blueish green needles, which stood in bright contrast to the dark green pines around it. The branches sighed and creaked with the weight of the newly fallen snow, occasionally sending small curtains of what he liked to call "snow dust" into the air.

For a while, the Angel stood there, staring at the blue pine, the occasional vapor of his breath the only thing to hinder his view. A squirrel climbed up the old pine in quick, seemingly spastic movements. He could see its' bushy tail bobbing as it moved. The squirrel moved too close to one of the snow-laden branches, and sent a small avalanche of snow cascading upon it. The squirrel stood shivering in the middle of the small heap, then shook off the snow, and the Angel could see the bushy tail bobbing away.

Next to him, his brother stirred on the rock, and the axe slipped out of his hands. Stefan opened his eyes, straightened up, and yawned. He wondered where he was, and then suffered a brief moment of panic, remembering that he was supposed to be chopping wood for the fire places, not being sure how much time he had left before Rosiel decided to check up on him, to make sure he hadn't "chopped off your own fucking head by accident", as his older brother frequently told him. He had gripped the handle of the axe, and stood up, looking around, when he saw that Rosiel was already standing next to him.

But, his brother's attention wasn't on him. He was staring far out into the woods. Rosiel seemed to be fixated on a single pine tree, the tree that Stefan had named The Blue Tree. It was what made Rosiel buy the plot of land in the first place. Stefan had argued and argued, saying that they probably wouldn't get any business out here, in the middle of nowhere. Rosiel had stated that he didn't mind. He had also been staring fixedly at the same tree at the time.

Stefan guessed that there was something his brother liked about The Blue Tree, although aside from the fact that someone obviously planted it there, there wasn't much that was special about it. Rosiel didn't seem to care for any of the other pines or plants around the small town, and Stefan had hung around the tree for close to an entire day, thinking that perhaps it had some kind of special energy or spirit that the Angel was feeling. He had felt nothing.

Stefan softly called his brother's name. The Angel stood, not moving. He let the axe drop from his hand, and gently tapped Rosiel's shoulder. Rosiel jerked and turned to face his brother, the look on his face bewildered.

"What are you doing here, Stefan?"

"Uh..." he started, not quite expecting this answer. "I was... chopping the wood, like you asked me to."

Rosiel's face remained slightly bewildered, but then his brows nitted.

"Bullshit. You were snoozing on that rock."

"Er... sorry. It's really early."

"Angels are supposed to..."

"... get up with the beckoning of the sun. Yeah, yeah, I know," Stefan said dully, flapping his hand.

"If you know, then stop bitching," the Angel replied curtly, glaring at his younger brother once again. Stefan had shifted his gaze down, looking at his feet, and Rosiel's expression cleared. He regarded his brother for a moment longer, and then went back to looking at the western side of the forest, where The Blue Tree was.

"Do you see something, Rose?" Stefan asked, when he was sure his older brother wasn't angry.

"There is the forest, the snow, and the animals, Stefan."

"There's always the forest, the snow and the animals. It snows here almost year-round. We're really close to the mountains."

"There are also our guests, and some other humans, out there. And... something else."

"Some other humans? What the hell are you on about?"

"The energy of our guests, if it is theirs, seems hurried and enraged," Rosiel replied, still staring at his beloved Blue Tree, getting slightly annoyed at his brother. "Which indicates that they're using it and summong it. Either for fight or flight. And the humans... well, you know who it is."

"Yeah. Barkjon. He never learns, does he?"

"Apparently not," the Angel mused.

"Should we go help them?"

"They'll return here soon enough. I'm sure Barkjon remembers us well enough to turn tail once they get close to Ravenholm. He can't be that stupid. And if he is still persuing them, we can easily dispatch him and his band of idiots."

Stefan nodded and picked up his axe again, then started to head toward the pile of logs, and large stump. He selected a log, then placed it on the stump, and raised his axe to split it in two. With a loud whump and dull thunk, the axe burried itself in the stump, and the log split cleanly into several pieces. They landed in the wet snow with a soft paf, and Stefan reached for another log. He stopped in mid-reach and looked at his brother again.

Rosiel was still standing in the same spot.

"Rose?"

"What?"

"Who's the other?"

"What...?"

"You said there was some "other" besides our guests, and Barkjon's thieves. Who's that?"

"I don't know. It's not Faye or Keo, and there's no way it can be Gabriel."

"Maybe it's Mystical?"

"Who?"

"When you were dealing with your hang-over, another guest came in. A woman. Lady Mystical was her name. Faye and Keo seemed to know her. Keo was especially pleased."

"I see. And what was she, this Mystical?"

"Don't know. Gave me a splitting headache to be around her. I kept away. I hope I didn't seem rude. Maybe it's her?"

"Maybe."

"Can I ask you something else?"

Rosiel sighed. "Will you get to work after this? If Faye and her friends are coming back here, they'll want it warm. For it to be warm, I need fires. For fires, I need logs."

"Aw, come on. We're Angels. We can conjour fire..."

"Not in front of humans!"

"They weren't human, Rosiel. Gabe's a vampire, I think Faye is too, and Keovari is definately something else."

"No matter. What's your question?"

"Why did you call Faye Josephine?"

"I already told you, it's because of Gabriel-"

"No, no, I mean, why that name? Is it the name of that Demoness that you-"

"Shut up, Stefan," Rosiel growled.

Stefan didn't answer. He shook his head and went back to chopping the logs in a bad temper. Rosiel, meanwhile, stepped back inside, removed his boots, and went to his quarters, intending to get cleaned up before his guests arrived, wanted or unwanted.

The two figures hurried on in as much silence as they could muster.
Faye's breath was becoming labored. Their trek through the forest had been long and fast. The conversation with the Lady had been unfairly interrupted by some minor thieves. Faye felt silly to be running from them like this, scattered from her friend by people she could hold back with her own strength let alone the powerful Guardian beside her. But it was not fear of their power that made the three flee from their meeting spot. It was fear of recognition. If those thieves had overheard any part of their conversation, it could cause trouble which would not be loved by any.
Faye stopped suddenly and tucked her skirts below her legs, sliding down onto a nearby tree root. The hems of her blue and black skirts were dusted with the sparkling white. It was caked loosely onto her ankle boots, soaking into her skin. The warm cloak around her shoulders saved her from the worst of the chill, but the biting cold numbed her cheeks and deepened their ruddy hew. The cold seemed to make her blue eyes more brilliant against the dull colors of the world.
Those eyes turned in slight anger to Keovari Seriph.

--

Keovari's mind was absent from his movements. Mechanically following his duty. He loved Faye, and even lacking that he would follow his duty. But he had other duties to care for and other feelings to feed. He missed the Lady. To have that time taken away so fast was shocking. He owed her, too.
He hoped she would meet them here. He hoped he had not made a mistake.
Keovari sighed. Beneath his silky white hair, icy eyes, distant and cold as the world around him, melted at the thought of the fiery Lady. The blue slowly seemed to dominate the white of his coloring, making his appearance less harsh.
When he felt calmer, he crouched beside Faye and smiled lightly.
"Do not presume anger with me, Ward. You would know I could not focus properly today. I apologized for missing their approach already," He turned to look directly into her eyes and gave the subtle smile of reassurance she needed.

--

Faye nodded and leaned against Keovari's arm, relaxing her body momentarily and letting her eyes close.
"I was so happy to see her. I was not careful enough myself." Her pause was ticker, pulsing with meaning.
She felt Keovari shift, his arm around her shoulders, but she left her eyes closed. Trying to calm her heart from the joy of her dear friend's appearance. His touch communicated everything; his own joy at the Lady's coming.
Faye smiled and crossed her gloved hands her lap elegantly.
Inside, she was in turmoil.

--

They rested, but Keovari's mind was running faster then ever. He wondered what he could do for Faye. Alyria was too present. He wondered what he could do for Lady Mystical, fearing Mirim's words as he knew he should not. Mystical is strong.
But he worried for the dear Lady.
He imagined her as he had seen her all that time ago. Pure, true. His mind raced.

--

The pair waited silently, not sharing their secrets allowed. They communicated their feelings as best they could be their connection and touch.