Rosiel felt troubled now; indeed, more troubled that he had felt before. Along with the feeling of discomfort, he also felt an incredible sadness and lonliness, not unlike what Faye had felt before, but the Angel had no way of knowing that; he could only see her pained facial expression. She was in his arms, now, Faye. He could feel her body, although it felt cold instead of warm like it should be.
At first, he wondered why, but then it registered to him that her body should be cold, and not warm. They were both freezing to death, after all. And he was starting to feel cold, too. The Angel supposed that they were simply returning to the real world, now. And he didn't want to go. As he thought of Keovari, he wanted to stay in this dream world even more.

From what he knew about Keo, it was likely that he would find out what happened here. Keo would find out that Rosiel had taken and threatened Faye. Threatened her for no good reason, except that he was a afraid and didn't understand what was going on - and that wasn't a good reason. He hadn't even explained to her what was going on. All he had managed to do was mumble some stupid half-assed apology.

And they were really going back, now. He started to feel the cold snow beneath his head, the heat around his face from his fever, and the wind stinging his cheeks. He supposed that his hair was probably getting wet too, and he dimly remembered packing some sort of blanket for Faye with him.

Rosiel wanted to explain himself more, but when he opened his mouth, he found that no words came out. The world that Faye had taken him to was slowly fading. To him, it appeared as if the world they were in was a painting, with the paint still wet, and someone had tossed water all over the entire thing. His vision became runny and it was making him nauseous, so he closed his eyes.

He didn't have to think that he was feeling the cold anymore; he was certain that he was feeling it now. The Angel Lord wasn't in his uniform anymore; he could feel his wet shirt and black trousers just as much as he could no longer feel the hat from his uniform, or his gun belt.

That fucking gun belt.

He regretted his reaction to Faye , but he could do nothing to take it back. Rosiel supposed he would remember the stricken look on her face until the end of his days. He opened his eyes to see Faye leaning over him, with her holding one of his hands, and his other hand clasping a bracelet that she had around her wrist. It felt very warm to him.

The snow was still falling quite heavily; he could barely make out Faye in front of him, which he didn't like. He wanted to see the expression of her face, although he supposed that if it weren't snowing, it was still as dark as Hell.

He tried to open his mouth again, at another attempt at an apology, but his cough got the best of him again. He coughed twice, and tried to desperately to clear his throat; he'd forgotten about the stupid cough. Releasing Faye's bracelet, he raised his arm and put it to his mouth, to stiffle any futher coughing, and he gently moved his other hand out of Faye's grasp, laying it ontop of the black pack he had taken with him.

The Angel tugged at the straps of the pack, trying to get them to come loose. When he couldn't get it loose, he managed to shove his hand inside of it, and pull out a piece of the blanket. He hoped that Faye could see and would understand that this was for her.

Samael could see a small town in the distance, which he assumed was Ravenholm. Leonard was gently leading the confused Angel by a rope that he had tied around the Angel's shakles. It wasn't that the Angel was a prisoner so much as he was simply afraid that he would wander off and get lost. As it was getting dark, finding the Angel would be more than difficult, and he did try to wander off a few times.

Edeline was walking slowly behind the Leonard and the Angel, occasionally placing her hand on the Angel's shoulder, and guiding him if he looked like he was going to go off in some random direction. She was almost certain that they were lost, since she'd never taken this route to go to the mountians. Before she was able to voice her concern, she too saw the small town.

As the party neared the town, Samael was able to see a worn sign with most of the letters had already faded away. He stopped to look more closely at the sign, but he still couldn't make it out.

"It's Ravenholm," said Leonard, behind him. "Let's go and find the inn already; the Angel's getting really impatient and he's probably sick of this lead."

Samael grunted and marched on. There were a few small houses, a medium-sized farm, a general store, and another large building which he assumed was the inn. Inside the general store, he could see an old man grubbing around a wooden table for something. When the old man noticed them, he peered at them through the frosted window suspiciously.

The Demon raised his arms to show that he was unarmed and had no intention of attacking anyone. The man raised his hand in return, holding up a single finger, meaning to wait. Samael raised his hand, and the rest of the party stopped behind him. After grubbing around some more, the old man blew out the few candles that were lighting his store, and stepped outside. He locked the door behind him, and pocketed the key in his faded trousers.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" he asked, turning toward the Demon.

"We're looking for the town of Ravenholm, sir," Samael answered, bowing to the man.

"You're in Ravenholm. Lookin' for somethin'?" the old man said, peering at the bound Angel with suspicion.

"Yes, sir. We found this Angel -" Samael pointed at him, "- and we heard that there was another Angel living here that could help us. This poor fellow seems to have hit his head, and he's lost his memory."

"Ain't know about any Angels livin' here, but plenty of folks here keep to themselves, so that ain't sayin' much. Y'know where these Angels might be stayin'?"

"We were told that this particular Angel was the owner of an inn, but I don't have the name of the inn, sir." Samael was lying diliberately - he wanted to make sure the old man wasn't leading him on.

"Ah," said the old man, smiling slightly. "That'd be the Seven Roses Bar, o'er there. D'know if the folks runnin' it are Angels, but Hell Almighty, the older one looks odd enough to be an Angel. And the youngin - runnin' around with that purple hair 'o his like no one's business! They're brothers, see?"

"Do you happen to know their names, sir?"

"Stop callin' me sir, boy. I've a name, and I'd be Javen, if ye please. An' no, I ain't never known the name of the older one. The youngin's name be Stefan, I think. Usually he's the one that orders food from me; the older don't talk much. Think he's shy."

"Thank you kindly, Javen," Samael said, bowing again.

"Nothin' ter thank me for, boy. You'll be stayin' at the Seven Roses?"

"Probably. The snow's getting worse, and my friends and I are hungry."

"Good then. Just one word o' advice, boy. See that tree over yonder?" Javen asked, pointing at a tall blue pine tree by the inn.

"Yes."

"Don't touch it. The older of them brothers, he likes that tree. Takes care of it real good. He won't like you touchin' it."

"I understand. Thank you again, Javen."

"Goodnight, boy."

"Goodnight," Samael said softly, watching Javen walk off to one of the small houses. He opened the door, stepped in, and lit a candle before shutting it. After a few minutes, the light in the window went out, as it had done in the store, and the Demon assumed that Javen had gone to sleep.

---

Katan wondered how long he'd have to follow the beings who found him. He had fallen from somewhere, that he knew. Somewhere very high. He remembered waking up in a grassy plain with a splitting headache and a terrible backache. He'd hit his head very hard, and it felt as if one of the wings on his back was broken to pieces. When the Angel had tried to spread his wings, the pain was so sharp that he had knelt down to the ground with a yelp and folded his wings tightly against his back, making the injured one hurt even more.

He wasn't even sure if he could remember how to fly. He didn't know where he had come from, or where he was. All he could remember was that his name was Katan. He'd wandered around the plain, dazed, for hours, until he was discovered by the group of odd beings. They bound him, cleaned up his wounds (at least, those they could find) and fed him. After he was fed and watered, they started to ask him questions.

The Angel couldn't understand why he was being bound, but he supposed he had done something wrong. When they asked him who he was and where he was from, he told them he didn't know. If he'd done something wrong, telling them his name wouldn't help, so he lied and said he didn't remember what he was called. He didn't want to tell them that his wing was injured, either; he didn't know what these beings were, and Katan didn't like the idea of them knowing he was handicapped.

After much debating over what to do with him, one of the males, Samael, told Katan that they would take him with them. Samael said that he wasn't sure if Katan would be all right on his own, and that they'd make sure that someone could take care of him so he'd be ok. The female, Edeline, didn't look too happy about taking the Angel along. After a hurried conversation which Katan couldn't hear with the other male, Leonard, Edeline agreed to take him along.

They'd been on a single road for hours, and the Angel was begining to wonder where they were going. The only place of interest that he had to note was a small inn where the party had stopped for some food and drink. Samael exchanged words with the male behind a wooden desk - who had given Katan a free drink (the Angel was surprised that it was something that had to be paid for) - and after a bit of rest, the party was on its way once more.

About an hour after the group had entered a dense forest, it had started to snow. The closer it got to twilight, the harder the snow would fall, and Katan was begining to get worried; Samael didn't look like he knew where he was going, and neither did any of the others. Edeline just looked more and more grumpy as time went on, and Leonard would tug at the rope attached to Katan's shakles if he started to wander off of the path. It annoyed him.

Finally, they appeared to have reached their destination; a small town in the forest. After a brief conversation with an old man that came from one of the houses, Samael started toward the biggest building in the town, which was another inn. Katan was disappointed; he had hoped that the old man would wonder why he was bound as he was, and try to help him, but at least it was obvious that they would get some rest now.

As they approached the inn, Katan felt a strange force, and he looked toward where it was coming from. A short distance from inn was a tall blue pine tree. The tree didn't look well; in fact, it looked ill. Katan had the sudden urge to protect it somehow. This tree was very important. He broke into a run toward it, but the Leonard gave his lead a sudden tug, and Katan was thrown off of his feet, spun in the air, and he landed hard on his face.

Edeline stood, looking surprised, while Leonard and Samael ran up to the Angel.

"You ok, there?" asked Samael, kneeling and offering his hand to help Katan get up.

"Tree," the Angel mumbled.

"Yeah, that's a pretty tree. Look, sorry about that. You ran off so suddenly that I thought something came out of the woods and was dragging you off. Besides, you can't touch that tree, if you mean the blue pine," said Leonard. "The old guy running the general store, Javen, said the owner of the inn'd kill us, and we kind of need a few rooms for the night."

"Sorry," Katan mumbled again, taking Samael's hand and getting back onto his feet. "I thought it... nothing."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry."

"S'alright. Let's just get inside the inn. I'm freezing." said Leonard, walking slowly toward the Seven Roses Bar.

No empathic powers were needed for the Lady to know how he felt. Her eyes went soft and her slender hand seemed to cease it’s trembling. For once, all felt right in the world. The blistering cold and the throbbing ache of her ankle all faded away into a moment of pure intoxicating bliss.

Butterflies danced around in her stomach as she searched for the right words to answer him with. Idly her slender hand stroked with a tender touch at his cheek wile her words began to flow timidly from her lips, laden with her naturally thick accent. “Beloved one, in my heart I do indeed...” Suddenly her words were cut short by a sharp gasp of what could only be described as pain. With eyes now closed tight, her small frame stiffened in the Spirit’s arms. Ruined, the moment slipped through her long fingers like grains of sand.

She would have been furious if she could have concentrated enough on her own emotions at that point, but the flood of Faye’s feelings demanded top priority. With limbs drawing in close, her shaking hands gripped tightly on her own crimson locks, wile her usually kind face contorted into one filled with pain and frustration. Quickly she began to wade through the mess and push aside the unwanted emotional burden.

After a few moments she won the battle over the intruding emotions and regained her previous composure. With a heavy sigh her hands dropped from their clinched position and her head followed the gaze of the Guardian. There was a slight twinge of concern for her friend, but more-so a sadness for the moment lost. Then, in a last-ditch effort, Mystical slipped off her gloves and reached up to Keovari’s face once more. This time she gently turned his head to meet her penetrating gaze. The other hand soon mimicking the other, his face now cradled by her soft touch. Again her familiar voice came out, dripping with emotion and sincerity. “I... never... ever wish to leave your side.”

Keovari's eyes glazed over slightly as her hand slipped against his face. He suddenly felt the difference between the cold and her warm touch, a split second of drunkenness. When that momentary sweetness passed, his mind flew to her words, digesting them.
His eyes widened and shot into hers, pressing into them with some invisible force, strength of passion. His lips parted slowly, a rush of freezing air filling his mouth in another split second of intoxication, "In... your own heart, sweet lady?"

---

Faye's mind began to hurt deeply. Rosiel's want to leave was now supported by her own and her need to have her mind to herself before Keovari would realize fully what had transpired with Rosiel. She did not want Keovari to find out without knowing that she was alright and would be alright.
She hoped that would be enough.

"You are right, it is time to leave." She reached up and took his hand from her shoulder, placing it upon the wrist with her bracelet, instructing him to keep a hold of it.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the cold that flashed against her physical skin. She focused to the well known feeling of the gentle pinch from her fangs against her mouth. The slightly sweet fresh air around her. Silky tickle of her hair against the bare skin. The cool comfort of the ring on her finger and the matching dangle on her other wrist. The slightly burning emptiness and dull ache of her heart.
The crashing depression finally tossed her back into total reality.

---

Keovari felt as if the moment was suspended, hanging in the air around them. He would have been happy to exist solely in that moment forever, the bubbling possibilities of what Mystical had said thrilling him. But time would not stop for anyone, no matter how the Guardian wished for it.

Suddenly, he felt Faye's presence blaringly in his mind, her emotions a confused and turbulent bundle. He cursed internally, displeased with the moment ruined, knowing the strength of her feelings and their sudden appearance would have startled Mystical even more then it had him.

His eyes searched hers momentarily, then flew away, glancing both out of worry and obligation, in the direction he sensed Faye.

---

Faye's hand shot to her mouth as she coughed harshly, the cold swirling into her, racking her body with one of the things that made her regret her partial humanity. The common cold must be the purest evil. Her mind swirling slightly as she suddenly pictured the ballroom of the Castle she had once danced in alone. The fluttering feelings of that moment returned to her as she glanced down at Rosiel. Who?...

"Rosiel." Barely spoken aloud, the letters slipping lightly off her lips, reminding the darker corners of her mind. She smiled gently at him, her gaze flickering in waves, the world slightly out of focus. "We should get going. We should get back to the Seven Roses,” She paused suddenly in worry, “Oh, and Keovari and Mystical!”