.:: Navigation ::.


Stories marked with a * contain MATURE CONTENT and if you are under the age of 18 you are forbidden to view these stories.

~:: Out of the Ashes ::~

Content Warning! The following story contains adult oriented content, and is written for viewing by adults only. If you are not of legal age to view such material in your jurisdiction, you do not have permission to read this story. Please select another link or use the BACK button on your browser. This story contains dark and violent content, and sensitive or emotional readers may find it objectionable. If you do not like this type of content, do not read this story. Please select another link or use the BACK button on your browser.

The soles of her boots clanked softly on the textured metal as she stepped gingerly down the ramp of the chopper and onto the familiar landing deck as she'd done so many times before. She'd already invoked her ability to disappear from sight as she tried to muffle her footsteps on the cold steel. Launching herself from the bow of the ship, she flew high into the fading indigo hues of the waning sunset.

She adjusted her heading to turn north and head for the dock where the dilapidated ferry deposited the new arrivals who were shipping in from other points in the Rogue Isles. Dusk gave way to a pall of velvet black trimmed in gray gauzy clouds. Scant handfuls of the brighter stars pierced the veil to sparkle over the murky waters. Hovering high above the ferry, the lofty demoness surveyed the port below her. The piers looked deserted as the aging transport sat idly at its dock, apparently devoid of any signs of life. A few of Warburg's indigenous population, rogue factions that had splintered from Lord Recluse's Arachnos organization, roamed the gritty side streets near the wharf. To her chagrin, no signs of any of the so-called "Destined Ones" could be found.

The biting wind aloft chafed her soft face as she turned out over the bay, dropping her altitude enough to avoid the stiff breeze yet remained undetected. Her crystal eyes scanned the terrain below her as she drew a protracted sigh.

She'd been so sure that the information for which she'd paid so dearly would bring her near her wayward child. A warm tear stung as it slowly trickled over her wind-burnt cheek. Turning her back towards the island, she faced out over the open water and raised her eyes towards the circling sky.

At first glance, the small blot against the gauzy sky looked like no more than a small, starless hole in the filmy clouds. It was the sheer blackness that first caught her attention. It was almost as if the fabric of the sky itself was torn and showing through it was a black abyss of nothingness. She hovered motionless, as it began to appear to grow and shift. Transfixed, her mind struggled through a sequence of pattern recognition, trying unsuccessfully to identify what her eyes were dutifully observing.

By the time it was close enough that she could hear the wind roiling beneath the legions of wings, it was too late. She spun and took flight in the direction of the hero base. The blackness was almost over head now, a great dark pulsing cloud. She threw a panicked glance over her shoulder to see massive throng of demons, beating their outstretched wings and descending towards her at an alarming rate. She flew as fast as she could, but she was no match for them as they dove down upon her from their superior position high above.

She flew out over the open water. The lights of the carrier were within her sight but she knew in her heart that she was never going to make it. A shudder coursed through her body as a powerful burst of demonic energy encircled her, shifting her kinetic momentum and slowing her forward motion to a crawl. Suddenly a powerful blast of dark energy hit her from behind and caused her to tumble from the sky to land in the icy water. Shaking her head as she broke the surface of the icy waves, she once again attempted to take flight towards the ship, to find herself wrapped firmly in writhing tentacles of dark power.

Looking up, she saw a pale white creature hovering above her. The resemblance was uncanny. This demoness was taller than Azazela by only a small margin, and sported a similar pair of curved horns, although this creature's eyes were blacker then the night itself. Massive wings beat the air beneath her as she hovered over the helpless heroine.

Azazela realized in that one dark moment that she'd found that which she came to this place seeking. She was face to face with her prodigal child.

"Did you really think you would leave this place alive?" Naimah mocked. "We have prepared quite the welcome for you."

The painful realization sank in to Az's consciousness before the last word dripped venomously from the young demoness's lips. The little thief had betrayed her. Not that it mattered, at this point.

She looked up saw Xandaros hovering behind Naimah with a menacing sneer plastered across his evil visage. He made no move to intervene. Az tugged at the restraining bands of dark energy in an effort to break free. Summoning her resolve, a blue glow burst forth as she focused her demonic energies inward to boost her own stamina. She reached into her armor and popped a small, pale purple pill, releasing its mystical power in an attempt to free herself. As the bands of darkness withered around her, she once again tried to flee, only to find herself again knocked out of the sky.

Xandaros laughed cruelly as he approached her, lifting her from the cold brackish sea by a horn until her eyes met his. "We meet again, princess."

A low, vicious growl rumbled from deep within her throat as she spat in his face. A split second later the back of his massive hand struck the side of her face hard enough to send her flying backwards into the dark, frigid brine. She broke the surface of the water spitting blood. Naimah once again flew above her and bound her in the writhing bonds of the netherworld. Xandaros wiped her spittle from his cheek and moved to hover at his daughter's side.

"Finish her, Lady Naimah," he commanded in an ominous voice.

Naimah glared daggers at her mother as she blasted her with soul-chilling negative energy. The maternal bond had caused her to hesitate far too long and gave the younger demoness the advantage. Now a will to survive seemed to burst forth from within Azazela as she stared into her daughter's soulless eyes. A blinding flash of white-hot psionic energy exploded across the malicious demoness' synapses, dropping her from the sky to writhe in agony at in the frigid sea. Projecting the illusion of vicious wounds into her offspring's evil mind, she split her energy between trying to fight the brutal attack of her malevolent offspring and trying to heal her own body.

She thrust forth a swirling cloud of pure mental energy that scattered the closest band of hovering demons and threw her daughter violently into the air. Xandaros moved closer, unaffected by the maelstrom, to backhand her once more. "Enough. The time has come for you to join us, Azazela. I offered you my hand, my affections, and the chance to rule with me. You spurned your father and mother, you spurned me, and you abandoned your child in order to join forces with the pathetic humans. For that you shall now pay with your precious mortal soul. ATTACK!" As he screamed out his command, the legions descended upon her. All the power of an angry Hell was unleashed upon her and in that dark instant she knew the time had come for her to give up her tenuous hold upon her earthly shell.

A wall of dark energy struck her, knocking her backwards into the briny water. As she broke the surface, she met the hate-filled glittering black of her daughter's merciless eyes. Raising a taloned fist, Naimah took hold of the last vestige of life that clung precariously to her mother's battered form and siphoned her soul from the stately body as it crumpled beneath the tempestuous waves.

So this is death. I have died as a warrior. In that, there was no shame... The pain she'd just endured instantly ceased but a cold more intense than anything she'd ever known bore into her being. A pall of sadness fell upon her as she thought of her young daughter, Adara, and her beloved mate, Cale. She wished for one last moment to tell him that he'd been right all along and how sorry she was that she hadn't heeded his concerns.

She felt the sensation of being violently pulled inside out as her spirit and soul were violently ripped from the now lifeless human shell. A moment of utter confusion ensued as she struggled to orient herself to her new incorporeal form. She sensed rather than saw the approaching entities as they surrounded her and prepared to drag her tormented essence back to Hell.


The cause of it was unknown. Perhaps it was a side effect of being within the ancient library of Salamanca at that precise moment, surrounded by countless tomes containing the seeds of magical lore that worked in conjunction to act as both a lens and a prism. Perhaps I still retained an infinitesimal vestige of divination magic within my mind in spite of the severing of my connection to the Entities long ago on that fateful night I became a Warshade. Or perhaps it was *because* I was a Warshade that I felt it, attuned to her as I was from siphoning off the tiniest of filaments of her life-force whenever we were in proximity. Perhaps being her lover had intertwined us on a quantum level, or that I was simply feeling the echo through the extremely delicate thread of Nictus energy that persisted in our daughter.

Regardless of why, I knew in an instant that some force had just touched my soul to leave me with a chill that filled me with dread. I had felt the touch of death upon me before, having my life cleft from my physical body only to be drawn back by an act of ultimate desperation by the Nictus entity fused with me. It was this chill that invaded me now, leaving me feeling all the colder inside because I knew that I was not the one who had just fallen into the abyss of the soul.

"Adara...?" I called out without thinking about it, lifting my head up from the ancient tome.

"Daddy?" she replied, turning away from her teacher to give me a look of confusion that almost made me physically ill. As a parent, I knew she was wondering what I was interrupting her studies for, as she had come to favor learning about new things. As a former Archmage, however, I could tell from the look in her eyes that her own magical senses, undeveloped as they were, had started to 'tingle' in the same instant.

"Did your mother say where she was going today?" I asked carefully, actively fighting the urge to either quantum-teleport through the library walls or shift into the Dark Nova form right then and there.

Her gaze went blank for a moment as she turned her mind inward. "No," she finally said as she blinked and refocused, giving me an openly worried look. "But.... she said she was running late earlier.... Daddy, are you...?"

"Guard her and do NOT let her out of your sight," I said in a flat tone to the nearest Cabal sorceress. I got a startled blink and a worried nod in reply before I reached out with my quantum powers, folding the fabric of space-time around me in the prelude to a teleport. There were only two things in Paragon City that Azazela used on a regular basis that ran on fixed schedules: The trams that connected one zone to the next..... and the Freedom Corp helicopters that flew determined heroes between Paragon City and the Border Isles.

And with as frequently as the trams ran, I knew that she wouldn't be worried about missing one of those.

I tried to keep my mind clear as I started chaining the teleports together, starting a new one at maximum range as I emerged from the previous one. I knew that Adara would be safe in the hands of Mary Macomber and the Cabal, as only an army could successfully lay siege to their warded city of Salamanca, but my fears were for her mother now. Perhaps all was well and I was just imagining things, in which case I would gratefully accept a stern rebuke for upsetting Adara with my hasty exit.

The lingering grip of ice on my soul, however, suggested otherwise.


The tiny succubus closed the door softly behind her as she morphed into her human form. She turned to the assassin with a mask of sorrow painted across her delicate features.

"You have the girl." Her voice was low and coarse as if she'd been crying.

Marcus paled and turned away. He could feel her pushing her way into his mind. Slowly he nodded.

"You have not destroyed her yet." The declaration was a quietly stated fact, rather than a query for confirmation.

He took a deep breath and waited for her to attack him.

Instead, she pushed past him into the bedroom. "Where is she, Marcus?"

His first instinct was to lie to her in order to draw her away from the frightened girl cowering in the back of the dark closet.

Syn turned and faced the stalker with her hands on her hips. "Don't play games, Marcus. We have to get her out of here."

It took a moment for her words to completely register as the look of guilt on his face gave way to shock.

"What did you say?"

"Azazela is dead," she replied flatly. "Naimah is on her way here, even as we speak. She will want to see that the girl is dead. If you have not killed her, she intends to do so herself. Maritus sent me to urge you to complete your task and thus avoid displeasing Lady Naimah." She paused and looked him in the eye before glancing towards his closet. "If you wish to save her, you are going to have to get her out of here and do it quickly."

"Why…?" His question died unasked upon his startled lips. There were still many things about these demons that he did not understand, the least of these being how they seemed to be able to look right through him at times.

Syn merely shook her head. "Azazela was my friend."

Those four small words registered in his consciousness with a massive jolt. Dark as Syn, the right hand of Doctor Maritus, and the one who had seduced him into this dark servitude, was a traitor.

"So why are you here?" he asked her incredulously.

"I know you have the girl. I know you, for whatever reason, have chosen not to destroy her as you have been ordered to do. The only reason Naimah wanted her left alive was so that, in searching for the child, her mother would be so distracted that she could not sense her sister Azazela's impending death, and come to save her. Azazela is now dead, and the girl remains heir to the prophecy as long as she draws breath. Maritus does not want to see you fail, as it will make him look bad in the eyes of Lady Naimah. And Naimah's only interest is in seeing the girl's broken body as the final proof that the prophecy has indeed been broken."

She looked past him and pointed to the closet door. "She is in there."

A shudder coursed through the assassin as he reluctantly nodded.

Syn opened the door and flung the clothing out of the way to reveal the cowering girl. "Do not be afraid," she said softly.

Sheken had only been able to hear the muffled tones of their voices through the closet door. She had not been able to make out what they were saying.

"I am here to help you."

Sheken's eyes widened as she cringed and summoned a cloud of dark threads. Syn laughed gently. "Attempting to hide in the darkness from a creature of darkness is futility."

Marcus stepped forward. "Sheken, we have to get you out of here."

She looked from the succubus to the stalker with a mix of apprehension and fear. After all she'd been through she was hesitant to trust anyone right now. Syn understood her fears. "Sheken, you have no other choice other than to trust us right now. I know that seems wrong, but sometimes doing what seems wrong is the only viable option."

"What are we going to do, Syn?" Marcus asked, nervously.

"We must find a way to get her back to Talos Island, and to the safety of her family. Right now, that will be difficult as her mother is distraught over the death of her…"

Syn's voice faltered as she realized that Sheken was not yet aware that her beloved aunt had been killed. She turned to the girl and held out her arms with tears welling in her own lovely dark eyes. "I am sorry, Sheken. I must tell you that your aunt Azazela has fallen in battle."

"What? When?" the girl shrieked. "Can't mom just resurrect her?"

Syn shook her head as the tears overflowed her long lashes and streamed down her cheeks. "I am so sorry. She was lured away from her family and attacked by a massive legion of demons. Your mother was so caught up in looking for you that she did not realize her sister was in danger until it was far too late."

Sheken felt as though her heart had stopped beating in her chest as the reality of the succubus's words hit her full on. She lifted her head and began a keening wail. A torrent of emotion threatened to suffocate her as grief, anguish and guilt overwhelmed her very being.

Syn grabbed her and pulled the girl tight against her chest, muffling the howl against her soft, full breasts. "I know this is a terrible thing, but right now it is imperative that we be on our way, lest Naimah find you here."

Sheken sobbed and nodded as the tiny demoness held her gently. "I loved her too," she whispered as her own tears trickled down into the little redhead's hair.

"T-t-this is why you are helping me?" Sheken asked.

Syn nodded. "I am not the force of evil that some might believe me to be. Very few things are ever purely good or purely evil. But then, you know that, I am sure," she said, pausing to wipe her cheeks with the back of a delicate hand. "There has been enough death and destruction for one day. Let us get you out of here." She backed out of the closet, taking the trembling girl by the hand.

Marcus donned his black robe and hood and vanished into the shadows with a quiet whisper. Sheken could feel him near her. Her psionic strength was returning now, that the vile chemicals he'd been using to subdue her had worked their way out of her system. She followed him to the living room and he opened the door. His heart sank as he saw the pale colors of false dawn rising on the horizon. He knew that it would be light far too soon for them to reach either a port where he could engage a hired sub, or the doorway to the interdimensional night club.

As if she read his mind, Syn answered, "It is a risk we are going to have to take." They all exchanged glances and nodded silently to each other as they slipped out into the cool morning air.

Sidling down the darkened alleyway, they carefully crept in the deepest of shadows. Sheken and Syn both summoned murky threads of darkness to enshroud the trio. There were an unusual amount of Arachnos patrols roaming the desolate streets tonight, forcing them to move carefully as they detoured around the mobs of soldiers. "The Fortunatas must have alerted Lord Recluse to the massive wave of demonic energy that surrounded the Rogue Isles tonight. I am sure they are searching for information regarding what has transpired, and why. If they capture us, it will mean a very painful, torturous end for all of us as they strive to get us to reveal the answers they are seeking." They exchanged fearful glances as a simultaneous shuddered passed through them.

They'd gone several blocks out of their way when the sky began to lighten. Syn and Marcus exchanged a worried look. "I have an idea," Syn said as they huddled in the shadows beneath a large overpass.

Marcus nodded.

"We can head to our lair. The entrance portal is only a block or so from where we are now. I will go there, make sure no one else is there, and summon you to me when the coast is clear. Wait here with the girl."

"Sounds good to me," Marcus agreed. He found a dark corner behind one of the supporting pillars and tucked Sheken protectively behind him as he covered her with his dark cloak. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to shrink back into the receding shadows.

Syn assumed her demonic form as her wings churned the misty air. She flew towards the portal that would allow her to enter the base that the Betrothed had built far below the forlorn hills north of the city.

She inhaled deeply as she entered the cool damp of the lair. Quickly, she ran from room to room until she was satisfied that the catacombs were indeed devoid of any other occupants. Slipping back out into the breaking day, she closed her eyes and wrapped Sheken in threads of time and darkness, pulling her instantly to stand at her side. Summoning Marcus a moment later, she silently gestured them to enter the portal.

Once inside, she whispered frantically, "I do not believe Maritus will come here seeking any of us, however, just to be sure, I am going to put you in a secret room…"

Marcus raised his eyebrows. "A what?"

She gave him a sly wink. "In the back tunnel there is a small room that is hidden from view. Maritus himself does not know it is there. Take her there and remain until I return for you when it is once again dark enough for us to travel safely." With a nod, she ushered them through a series of twisting hallways and chambers. With a wave of her hand, a massive part of one wall faded from view, exposing a doorway into a small chamber with nothing more than a little table, and a grimy bed with thick leather restraining straps. A small torch on the far wall flared to life as the succubus waved a taloned hand. It provided a dim, flickering light that cast eerie shadows across the cold stone walls. "I am sorry we cannot provide better amenities. This chamber was designed to provide a temporary accommodation for certain guests that might be reluctant to remain in our company."

"Beggars can't be choosers," Marcus said as he extended his hand. "Thank you, Syn," he said earnestly.

Sheken's voice cracked as she added, "Yes, thank you."

"I am going to have to seal the wall, lest Maritus, or someone else, wander in here and discover you. You will not be able to leave until I return. Do you wish to use the base facilities before I do this?"

Sheken hadn't thought about it until now, but quickly nodded. Syn ushered her to a small set of doors. She felt a great sense of relief, and then helped herself to the cool water to wash her hands and face. She wished she could bathe her entire body to remove the bitter traces of chemical residue that had seeped through her pores to cling to her skin. She knew that would be the least of her concerns if they were discovered. Marcus had similar thoughts, and took the opportunity to refresh himself as well. Syn had procured some jars of dried fruit and and a stone jug full of cool water along with a couple of chalices.

"Be as quiet as you can," she warned in a hushed tone. "I will return at nightfall."

They both nodded their agreement. With that she once again employed her powers and caused the wall to rematerialize, sealing them behind it.

Marcus sat down on the bed and motioned to Sheken. "The time will seem to pass more quickly if we simply go to sleep."

She shivered slightly and took a step back. "I…don't know." Her voice faltered.

"I won't…" he paused for a second before he simply added, "…again."

Sheken looked him in the eyes. He met her frightened gaze with a pleading look and a soft sigh. "Look, I know you don't trust me. After all I've done to you, I don't blame you. But right now, both of our lives are hanging in the balance here. We have to work together or neither of us is going to make it out of this mess alive."

She nodded slowly without saying a word. He stood up and motioned her to the bed. "I will sleep on the floor if it makes you more comfortable." He hesitated for a moment. "Or, I can let you restrain me if that would make you feel safer," he said, pointing to the straps on the bed.

Glancing from him, to the bed, she shook her head. "It is okay," she said in a very quiet voice. "Go ahead and lie down."

He nodded. "Are you sure you don't want to lie down as well? I swear I won't lay a hand on you. Intentionally, of course," he added with a sheepish look, as he remembered waking up draped over her warm body.

She sighed. Her body ached all over. She was emotionally drained from her ordeal and the shock of knowing Azazela had been defeated. She could feel the last of the neurotoxins that had kept her so confused seeping from her body. She looked at the bed, then back at her impromptu roommate. Finally she heaved a small sigh and laid carefully down on the far edge of the bed. He slid onto the other side and within minutes both of them were fast asleep.


As Azazela's ethereal from hovered over the murky deep, the gray gauze of clouds above her suddenly rent violently in two, and a radiance brighter than the brightest sunlight shone across the face of the water. She was just above the crests of the dark water, watching with a detached confusion as her body floated just beneath the cold surface. A peal of rumbling thunder shook the entire area. Glancing upwards, she saw two creatures descending in a pillar of light, surrounded by an innumerable host of glowing beings. The Guardians! But what were they doing here? She knew she was already dead. As the two bright creatures came near she recognized Avidan and his sister Ziva, but instead of the human forms she had was familiar with, they were in shining garments and bore massive wings that churned the air around her, violently tossing the already frantic waves.

The legions of demons shrank back in terror and scattered across the face of the waters as the legion of Guardians formed a circle around her fallen form. She turned and looked at her body, the human shell she'd lived in since she was born so long ago. The urge to cry passed through her being but she realized that she was incapable of such a feat. She moved closer to her lifeless body and instinctively reached out to it, but Avidan grabbed her gently by the arm.

"Azazela, you don't need that any more." His voice was filled with love and kindness. "You must come with us. The Creator has appointed that this day you should stand in his presence."

This struck her soul with fear, as she felt shame and remorse over the actions that had lead to her untimely death.

Ziva came near and held her other hand. "There is no need to be afraid. Stand fast and be strengthened, and know that the sum of your deeds will be weighed and you shall not be found wanting. Come."

Instantly she felt herself being lifted at an amazing rate of speed. It seemed as though no time had passed, and indeed it had not, insomuch as she was no longer a creature bound by the rules of linear space and time.


The mourners huddled closely, wrapping themselves tightly in coats, cloaks and capes as a driving chill bore down on them as they stood beside the open sepulchre where the mortal body they had all known as Azazela was about to be interred. The ivory white casket was draped with flowers of all hues and colors, including a massive bouquet of blood red roses with a dark purple ribbon that Adara and her father had laid there as they wept.

The thick fog seemed even thicker today, as a misty chilling drizzle hung in the air and coated those in attendance with its damp coldness. The dismal surroundings seemed to magnify the weeping and grief that numbed every single heart among those that formed a half circle as an elaborately robed mage began to offer up prayers.

It was a strange, motley group that was gathered there. Azazela's grief-stricken sister bore a truly blank expression that was a mixture of anguish and heavy sedation. Keres stood at her side, supporting her against his strong chest as he gently stroked her damp red locks. Adara knelt beside the casket with tears streaming down her face. Cale stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders as he comforted his daughter and mourned the loss of his partner and lover in his own quiet way. A group of mages from the Circle of Thorns stood at a discreet distance, warily eyeing the group of heroes as they chanted softly, bidding a farewell to the gentle demoness who had become their unlikely friend.

As several of the throng lowered the gleaming box containing her sister's broken and lifeless form into the cold tomb, the tiny redhead let out a demonic howl of grief that echoed far across the forsaken milieu.


Azazela raised her gaze as her ethereal form stood before a great throne. She could feel her very soul tremble as she cowered before the presence of the Creator.

He smiled and the light was more brilliant than anything she could have ever imagined. "Azazela, my child! This day was ordained from long ago. I am pleased that you have fulfilled your righteous destiny. Your service to my children, the humans, has come up before me as sweet as any savor that any being could offer."

She could feel herself trembling inside. He reached out to her and pulled her to him, embracing her in a warmth that felt unlike anything she'd ever known.

"Why are you fearful, child? Do not let the guilt over your actions trouble you. Your decisions were made according to a plan that was set forth long before you were of age to even comprehend such marvelous things. All that is done is done. You stood fast against the adversaries, even in the face of overwhelming defeat. And you have left behind a daughter who will grow to do great things among my children. In you, I am well pleased."

He paused and released her to stand once again before him. "In light of all that you have done during your years as human, you stand before me, to be judged by those works. I find that you have turned yourself from the ways of evil, and served only the good. Your fatal mistake was one made out of a love that you had, even for one who proved to be unable to be loved. Your Nephilim form has now died and I judge your mortal soul to be free, in light of the good that you have done, and for your service to me, for all of your human life."

She felt a surge of relief course throughout her wraithlike being. With a booming voice, he went on, "Now then, is the matter of your spirit, the part of you that should be remanded over to be judged by my saints, as one of the Fallen, from whom you were created." If she were still within her human body she'd have sworn her heart had stopped at the sound of these words. "However," he intoned, "you have never considered yourself as one of them. Your entire life was a struggle against them and against all that they stand for. There is no evil found in you, nor any malice towards my beloved children. Because of this, you stand before me today, to be weighed in the scales, and you are not found lacking."

He smiled upon her, radiating love and warmth. "No longer shall you be known as Sa'iyr. From this time forth, you shall be known as 'elohiym, one of the the Obedient ones."

She was taken completely aback and was so awestruck she was unable to even respond. She simply stood before the Creator in silent contemplation at the marvelous wonder that had been revealed to her.

"Your work upon the earth is not yet complete. You shall be given the power to return there, yet for the space of three days you shall remain in my presence while you learn to exist as we do. After that time, you shall be sent forth, clothed in righteousness and power, to continue to do that which is right and good."

As she looked up, the throne was surrounded by beautiful winged creatures that began to sing in voices more beautiful than anything she had ever heard during her time on earth. It moved her so that she was compelled to weep, but found that this was simply not possible. She simply smiled within herself and basked in the radiance in which she stood.


"This was my fault," she stated flatly.

Her partner's head jerked up from the book he'd been quietly reading. It was the first coherent thing she'd said in days. The combination of shock and grief, along with regular doses of sedatives, had kept the little demoness almost catatonic.

"Why would you say something like that, Dawl?" he asked her gently.

"Remember the last time?" She looked up with tears in her eyes. He nodded as she continued. "The Creator told me there would be consequences to pay for changing the outcome. I believe this is the consequence."

"How can you even think something like that? This is not your fault," Keres shook his head. Standing, he walked over to the small redhead and grabbed her shoulders, bringing her around to face him. "Don't even think like that."

"I must," she said, sadly. "I have brought much grief upon all of us with some of my decisions. The twins…" her voice faltered as tears began to flow copiously down her cheeks.

"We went over this before. What happened in the past…"

Before he could finish she interrupted, "No, Keres, you don't understand. By bearing the twins, I brought a curse upon them, and on those surrounding them. Appolion was taken at birth, and raised for evil, and now Sheken is gone. This really is entirely my fault."

"Look," he said softly, as he moved close and held her sobbing body against him, "you couldn't have known what was going to happen. Every single one of us makes decisions we regret. Don't blame yourself for this."

"I must," she insisted through her tears. "I am not fit to be known as a hero. I have decided to end my career…"

His eyes flew open. "What? You cannot possibly be serious."

"I can't do this anymore. I have failed my children, failed my family, and now Azazela is dead because I failed her too."

Warm saline began to flood his eyes as he realized what his beloved empath must be going through. They had been together for years and by this time, he could almost read her mind. He thought back to the first time they'd met, when she was young and new to Paragon City, and he'd found her lost and crying in Perez Park. That fateful day had changed both of their lives for the better as a bond was formed that evil the forces of evil themselves could not tear asunder.

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" he asked her gently.

She nodded and choked on a sob. She stood on shaky legs and silently left the room.

When she returned, she was cradling a phone in one hand, and a tissue in the other. She dabbed at her tearstained cheeks as she softly said, "Tonight, I have scheduled a press conference downstairs in one of the meeting rooms. I am going to officially retire."

"You know I love you and will stand by whatever decision you make," he said as he hugged her. "Just please think about this for a day or so."

"I have already thought about it for days. My mind is made up."

He let out a long, patient breath. She could be the most stubborn creature he'd ever met, he thought to himself.

She pulled from his embrace and walked to the window. Cold gray clouds were gathering on the western horizon, a portent of an approaching storm. The huge glowering thunderhead was as cold and violent as the emotions she tried to control within her anguished thoughts.

The past three days had been a blur of tears and grief. She swallowed hard and turned towards the stairway and slowly started towards the bedroom. Walking through her room, she was drawn to the doors that led out onto her balcony.

She stepped out into the cool morning air. A strong breeze whipped her red locks around her face and made her eyes water. She looked up at the filmy clouds as they raced overhead. As her eyes watered, she struggled to decide if they were watering because of the sharp wind or if they were trying to form tears. She honestly did not think she could possibly have even one more tear left within her, as much as she'd cried in the past few days.

She heard Keres' soft footfall behind her just before she felt him put his arms around her waist. "I can't believe she's gone," she said, flatly.

Her partner held her close and rested his chin atop her head. "She will always remain in our hearts," he said, quietly.


DawL stood on a wooden box behind a small podium at the front of a borrowed conference room on the ground floor of the building she'd called home for many years. Her gaze swept the nearly full room as she nervously shifted her weight from one foot to another. Her eyes were swollen from crying as friends she'd made over her years of service in Paragon City filed into the room. Bloodwynd and La Luna slipped through the doors and met her eyes with worried glances. Her sons sat somberly in a small group, the younger boys reaching out to hug their older brother in reassurance. Zakai hadn't slept or eaten in days and his countenance was pale and drawn. He blamed himself for the failure to protect his little sister, just as much as his mother ascribed the blame to herself.

A somber Cale Westmarch ushered his daughter Adara into the room as Keres led them up to the front row to be seated with the rest of the family. Shandra, known to most as Silky Kitty, with her mate Demise, stood quietly in a shadowed corner at the back of the room as she tried to maintain a stoic demeanor that was belied by the puffiness of her eyes. The towering brunette that Silky had befriended, Danitra arrived shortly after. She was joined by the tiny Illusionist Ghoulie, who'd worked closely with Az and had become a close friend. Dawl looked up to see Krinalle slip into the room, still in her bright white lab coat as if she'd come directly from her clinical labs. The student nurse formerly known as Samantha Grigsby before she agreed to host the Nictus whose name and cause she took upon herself, flashed a small, sad wave to Dawl as she quietly found a seat near the back. The statuesque tank of a girl who'd befriended Dawl so long ago upon her arrival in Paragon city, met the demonesses' tortured gaze with a sad smile as she tucked her mace behind her and sat down near Dawl's sons. She was followed closely by the lovely Persian girl Karishka, who was a stalwart tanker in her own right. Dawl had rescued her many years ago during a trip home to see her mother and in gratitude, she'd returned to Paragon City to join her in fighting the seedier elements of their fair city.

A few members of the press cluttered around like vultures in front of the podium, jockeying for position to capture the devastated demoness in a moment of tragic pain that they could parlay into ratings.

As the room filled, Dawl met her lover's eyes with an anguished, pleading gaze. He slipped from his seat nearby and took his place at her side. It was a place he'd spent the best part of thirty security levels occupying and one he would not abandon now in this dark moment.

A hush fell over the room as he reached out and put a strong arm around the diminutive redhead's shoulder. She leaned forward against the podium and sighed quietly as she looked out across the crowd.

The microphone crackled softly as she moved close enough for it to pick up her nervous breath. Her voice was broken with sorrow as she struggled to speak. "My friends…today is indeed a sad day. My sister is gone, and many of you know, I have also lost my daughter. What most of you don't know is that she is believed to have been taken to the Rogue Isles by an assassin, and is feared dead, though there is no confirmation of this." A sob caught in her throat as she paused. "I…I don't know quite how to say this…"

One could have heard the beating of butterfly wings in the tense silence that enveloped the room as everyone waited to hear what was about to be said.

"I have failed. I have failed my sister, I have failed my daughter. I cannot continue to pretend that I am something I am not. I am no hero. My time of serving this wonderful community…" she stammered as she broke into tears. A somber murmur rippled throughout the assembled crowd. Keres drew her close and wrapped her in his strong arms as she struggled to regain her composure. "My time here has come to an end. I am going to retire my mantle as a hero… here in Paragon City."

A collective gasp rose into the stuffy air of the crowded room.


With a flourish of her delicate taloned fingers, Syn dissolved the mystical barrier that hid the secret room, to find Marcus gently holding a sleeping Sheken as she sobbed quietly in her sleep. Syn shook her head as Marcus started to move. With a barely perceptible nod, he relaxed. The succubus closed her eyes and focused herself towards the girls sleeping mind. She slid into the plane of Sheken's dreams as though she belonged there, remaining unseen as she watched a tortured scene unfold. The girl was terrified, cowering beneath a torrent of water, as blood ran from her lacerated wrists. The assassin advanced towards her as her mind replayed the horrific assault. But this time there was no retreat into unconsciousness as he lifted her body onto his own. The entire scene was being dredged from where she'd buried it deep in her subconscious. This time she would be painfully aware of the entire sordid ordeal. Syn shuddered. What had Marcus done to this child? The girl sobbed hysterically as she relieved the nightmare in vivid detail, as a prisoner of her tormented dreams.

Unmasking her presence within the girl's mind, Syn reached out to cast a warm burst of demonic energy around her as Sheken struggled futilely to free herself from the stalker's brutal grasp. "Sheken," she called softly, "let me take this pain away from you. Do not remain within this torturous vision any longer." Suddenly, Marcus was gone, and they no longer stood in a downpour beneath the warm shower. Syn was clothed in a heavily embroidered hooded robe, and Sheken herself was naked and on her knees before the little succubus. A feeling of vulnerability and trepidation weighed heavily upon her. Around them was only darkness. With the tip of her fingers, Syn dragged her talons lightly over the girl's forehead and uttered some unintelligible but somehow familiar words that burned into Sheken's mind. As the tormented girl's brain struggled to find meaning in the utterance, a sudden flash of clarity burst forth, and suddenly she was floating in midair, wrapped in a soft white swirling light. It spun around her like a whirlwind as it solidified from mere warmth into a blanket of softness that covered her entire being, wrapping her in a glowing cocoon.

Syn's soft voice echoed deep in the girl's mind. "May I change you?"

After a moment of frightened hesitation, Sheken felt her mind reach out to touch the succubus tenderly. "Sure."

In a burst of energy, the cocoon rent in two and Sheken stepped forth clad in a pure white gown of a radiant silken fabric. She hovered above the shredded shell for a moment as the succubus reached out her hand. "Come, return with me, and remember this ugliness no more, my child. It is time, Sheken, it is time…."

Syn's voice echoed within and without as the threads of deep sleep unwound themselves from the sleeping girl. Marcus felt her stir and realized he'd been holding his breath.

"…It is time, Sheken… awaken…." Syn chanted softly as the girl slowly stirred to awareness. Sheken's first thought was of the warmth of the glowing cocoon when she realized that she was actually wrapped in Marcus's arms. A tiny shred of instinct niggled at the back of her mind urging her to break free, but the sensation of warmth and being securely encompassed by his strong arms won out. With a soft yawn she met his worried gaze.

Syn smiled knowingly. She didn't have to enter the stalker's mind to realize that the hardened killer had somehow fallen for this little redhead. An underlying sadness flowed through the realization that this would very likely hasten his own doom, but she also knew in her demonic heart that this meant his end would not be a lonely, tragic one as it had once been fated to be.

"Okay, you two, we have to get ready. Night will fall soon, and we must be ready to depart. The doctor spent the entire day barking orders to his underlings to find you. Naimah is beside herself. She suspects I may be somehow involved with the girl's disappearance but dare not risk making herself appear less than all-knowing by making a potentially false accusation." She paused with a smile. "I managed to slip a few random ideas into the doctor's subconscious while he was preoccupied with his anger." She grinned wickedly as her voice took on an ominously dramatic air. "He summoned Naimah and they left for Nerva Archipelago to begin seeking there. It would seem he had a vision of Sheken tied down to an altar deep in the woods of Primeva and believes that Marcus may be attempting to sacrifice her in order to empower himself with her energies." She laughed out loud. "Okay, so that plot is thin and corny, but it was the best I could come up with on the fly."

Marcus gave her a sad smile and shook his head. He absentmindedly stroked Sheken's silky red locks as he met her gaze. "I am so sorry," he began as he started to pull away. Sheken met his eyes and shook her head. "No, it's okay. Thanks for keeping me warm."

He felt a pang of guilt stab through the center of his heart as he faced that fact that her sobbing was probably due to her reliving the attacks of the past couple of days. His eyes turned upwards to meet Syn's. Don't worry, Marcus. I know what you did to her. I have stolen those memories from within her dreams.

A look of shock passed quickly over his features at finding her within his thoughts, but he managed to quickly cover it with a mask of detachment. You refer to my deflowering her? I don't even know why I did it. In a way I did not want to, even as much as I physically wanted her.

Syn gave an almost imperceptible nod. Blame the vile drink for breaking your resolve. It matters not. What is done, is done. While she is still aware of the fact that you have been intimate, she does not remember the events surrounding the actual assault. This will save her reliving the act again and again within the prison of her dreams. Her budding psionic capabilities were not advanced enough to capture the entire conversation of thoughts flowing between the demoness and the assassin. Even so, Sheken could sense that they were communicating silently and she knew it concerned her. She remembered the strange cocoon and the presence of the beautiful demoness in her dream. In the back of her mind, she felt a vague feeling of loss as if something had been stolen from the vaulted halls of her subconscious. These feelings left her confused and apprehensive.

Be not afraid, young one. The succubus tenderly reassured her by pressing her soft words into the girl's troubled thoughts. I will do my level best to see that no harm befalls you. My love for you stems from a deep love for your fallen aunt. I will defend you to the point of my own destruction in honor of the memory of brave Azazela.

A sudden sorrow overwhelmed the tiny redhead. Tears began to flow copiously as she buried her face in Marcus's chest.

"Sheken," he began, softly, "I need to tell you something. I…have…I mean, I feel very guilty for…" He paused as he couldn't even bring himself to say out loud what he'd done. "…for what I did to you. I know I have no right to ask you to forgive me."

She looked at him with a mixture of surprise and reservation as she pulled herself from his grasp and slid from the bed.. "Don't…" she started. She made a shushing gesture and shook her head.

"We cannot change that which is done," Syn interjected. "We must now depend on each other to find our way through this mess. Are both of you ready? The sooner we get her home, the sooner…"

The little succubus turned her head as the faintest sound of energy being transferred filtered into her hypersensitive ear. "Someone's coming," she hissed. Backing up, she instantly recreated the wall, once again sealing Sheken and the stalker in the hidden alcove.

She walked back down the corridor, watching for any signs of whoever had entered through the mystical portal. She couldn't imagine Maritus returning so soon. She knew it would take him days to comb the woods in Primeva before he realized that his "vision" had steered him wrong.

As she rounded the corner that opened into a small lobby opposite his office, she noticed a lone figure sitting in one of the soft leather chairs. With a quiet sigh she morphed into her human form. Approaching the young girl she smiled. "Well, hello, Xandra. What brings you here, this evening?"

The young girl looked up at Syn and smiled a sad little smile. "I had an appointment with the doctor but he wasn't at the clinic."

Syn fought to hide a knowing smile as she turned away from the young child. "Of course he was not. Something came up and he is running an errand of some importance with Lady Naimah."

At the mention of the cruel demoness, the small girl winced. Naimah had "rescued" the young child from an orphanage and turned her over to Doctor Maritus. When the girl rebelled against her demonic demands, Naimah cursed her with the powers of hell. The child grew up with unusual powers to command demonic extremes of hellfire and deadly cold. She both loathed and feared the cruel demoness, and with good reason.

Xandra looked at the succubus uneasily. "I thought perhaps I might find him here. I guess I should wait for him."

Syn sighed under her breath. "I don't know when he is to be expected. You may want to try the clinic again in the morning." She turned her back to the seated girl and paced the lobby in frustration.


Behind the mystical barrier, Marcus and Sheken waited nervously. Her heart pounded in her chest as her fears of discovery invoked a surge of adrenaline. She stood near the wall and listened carefully in hopes that she might hear something that would let them know what was transpiring on the other side of the thick barrier. Marcus approached her and wrapped his arms around her shivering body.

"Cold?" he asked, quietly.

"No." The tremble in her voice told him all he needed to know.

Pulling her close he surprised himself by planting a soft kiss on the top of her bowed head. He inhaled the soft scent of her hair and sighed quietly as he hugged her gently. Her mind told her she should resist but her body craved the comfort of his embrace. A chill coursed through her as her imagination played through all kinds of horrific scenarios of what might be transpiring on the other side of the wall they were for the moment hidden behind.

"Do you think she's here?"

Marcus lowered his lips once more to kiss her forehead. "Naimah? I don't know. Syn said she and Maritus were searching for us in Primeva. It is a long journey there, and the forest is huge. I can't imagine them giving up and returning here so soon."

"I wonder who is out there." Sheken murmured quietly.

"Could be anyone," he whispered. "There are several of the Betrothed who might find a reason to visit the base. It could be anyone from the doctor's favorite, Jahalia, to that brute of a woman, Mahvash, which he just recruited. He," the assassin paused for a moment as he pondered how best to phrase his next words, "has a way, with women. Well, with people, really," he added, realizing that the doctor held considerable sway over him at times. "He's the kind of person who can suggest something to you and have you believing it was your own idea."

"How'd you meet him?" Sheken asked.

"Me? I met Syndi, err, Syn. She…" his voice trailed as his face burned hot with the memories of his first meeting with the beautiful succubus. "She convinced me to join the organization. Doctor Maritus felt it would be advantageous for the Betrothed to have the services of an assassin at their disposal. It helps when he needs to eliminate witnesses, or rivals."

"How did you…" Sheken turned and faced him, looking him directly in the eye. "What made you become an assassin?"

He swallowed hard and turned away. A few moments of uncomfortable silence passed in which she feared she'd overstepped her bounds by asking such a pointed, personal question.

Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to the bed. Using his body language he coaxed her to sit beside him as he took both of her small hands in his own. In hushed tones, he spoke as he met her eyes.

"I cannot say it was any one thing." A pained expression etched his face as emotions he thought he'd long since buried resurrected themselves within his tortured soul. "I grew up in a very bad neighborhood and a city so big that no one even noticed I was alive. I was just another unfortunate bastard trying to survive the streets. I learned how to work the system from a very young age."

She could hear the anguish in his voice as he took a deep breath and continued. "The only person who ever loved me was my mother. Okay, so she wasn't a perfect mother. She did what she had to do to keep both of us alive. I understood…"

"I grew up watching most of kids I might have called friends, if I had any, die around me. A drug overdose here, a gang war there, a suicide… they all faded into nothingness and no one cared. One less hoodlum on the streets. I guess it proved to me that life isn't worth much. Only to those who have the power to do something with it."

He sat in quiet reverie for a moment. She held his hands tightly as she watch the lines deepen across his face. He suddenly looked much older and more tired than she'd noticed before.

"My mother…" a sob caught in his throat, cracking his voice as he tried to speak, "she only wanted to make me happy. To give me some small thing in the nothingness that was my life. She held back some money. A little bit at a time. She was saving to buy me a ten-speed bike. She told me if I had a bike maybe I could get a job as a courier and save enough to work my way out of the slums we lived in."

Tears began to stream down his face. Sheken felt her own resolve crumble as drops of saline formed on her lashes.

"I came home early that day. I'd gotten in a fight at school because someone had called me a son-of-a-bitch. I told him my mother wasn't a bitch, and he said 'Oh, that's right, I forgot, she's a whore.' I don't remember much of what happened after that. I remember an ambulance driving up on the playground, and signing the paper that suspended me from school for two weeks. I was so afraid she'd be mad at me…" he choked on tears that were flowing in a full blown torrent down his pale cheeks. "I got home and found her...on the floor in the hallway…in a pool of her own blood. She was black and blue all over. She must have put up one hell of a fight. I knew there was nothing they could do, but I called an ambulance anyway. They didn't even try to revive her."

His voice took on a bitter, icy edge. "He was my very first mark. I waited. Everything I did from that day on focused on the moment I would find him and deliver the justice my mother deserved. I studied the ancient martial arts and learned not only how to fight, but how to remain as unseen as the wind. It took me years, but finally I was ready. I hunted him. It wasn't hard. He lived like a king on the money he squeezed from his harem of hookers. He thought he was invincible. I proved to him that he was nothing more than a weak coward. I watched him beg me to spare his life, as I killed him slowly…"

The last few words were snarled with such vitriol that she cringed back from him. He looked at the mask of fear on her delicate features and softened his tone. "I'm sorry." He reached towards her and once again pulled her into his arms.

"I am the one who is sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. I had no right…"

"No," he answered her firmly. "Sheken, that is something that has been bottled up inside me since it happened. It has eaten my soul every single day of my life, eaten it until there was nothing left."

She hugged him tightly and cried.

"I needed to let that out. I should thank you." He stroked her hair gently and lifted her face to meet his own. Without so much as a thought, she closed her eyes and met his gaze by planting her satin lips on his own.

He moaned quietly as the tender kiss smoldered and flared into a deeper one. He felt himself falling backwards as she pulled him off balance to join her in lying prone on the bed. Well, if we are going to be found here, at least they will find us in a state of bliss. He chuckled morbidly at thought of Naimah and the doctor discovering them in flagrante delicto.


Meanwhile Syn was trying to find a gentle way to dissuade the child from maintaining a vigil in the lobby until the doctor returned. "Perhaps I can help you," she suggested gently.

Xandra shot her an uneasy glance then focused intently on her hands as she wrung them nervously in her lap. "I am...not sure."

Syn cocked her head to one side. "What was it you were supposed to see the doctor about?"

"I...don't know, exactly. When I called to check in with him today, he told me to be at the clinic tonight after closing. He seemed upset and he said he had some work for me. Something about helping him find someone, but he wouldn't say who. He told me he'd give me the details when I met with him."

Syn realized he probably meant to send Xandra to assist with the manhunt for the missing pair she now had concealed in the hidden room. Although she felt an intense pity for the mistreated young orphan, she had no intentions of trusting her. At her tender young age, Maritus was able to bury his mental hooks deep in the girls mind. The succubus knew any information passed on to the girl would eventually find its way to the doctor whether Xandra consciously wanted it to or not.

The child shifted nervously in the chair. "I hope he isn't mad at me. I was a few minutes late arriving at the clinic. Perhaps that is why I missed catching him there."

"I am sure he will understand," Syn purred. "I will be sure to let him know that you came straight here when you didn't find him at the clinic. I am fairly certain he left long before you arrived, however. He left with Naimah quite early in the afternoon."

This seemed to calm the child somewhat. Her shoulders drooped as she slumped backwards against the soft leather. Gently the little succubus pressed her way into the girl's thoughts. Suddenly, Xandra felt an overwhelming tiredness flooding her body. It was as if her limbs had suddenly turned to lead.

"You look tired, Xandra." The words dripped from Syn's lips like honey as she moved behind the girl to gently rub her shoulders. The child bristled at first, but under the skilled touch of the succubus, she soon felt her flesh turn to putty in the Syn's soft fingers. "Perhaps you'd like to lie down on the sofa until the doctor returns."

The suggestion echoed strongly in the girl's subconscious. She nodded weakly and closed her eyes. "Mmm..." she murmured softly, as the succubus ran her fingers over her milky skin. She felt Syn take her by the hand and lead her down the corridor to a small room furnished with a divan, a low table and a couple of chairs. She opened her eyes just enough to settle onto the couch before closing them again with a deep sigh.

She felt Syn gently urging her onto her side as she took a seat beside her. Xandra sleepily rolled to face the wall as the succubus gently raked her talons lightly over her back. You are very tired, you should sleep. Xandra nodded her head weakly in response to the unspoken command echoing in her mind. Syn stroked her hair softly as her breathing began to slow and deepen.

She could feel the girl relax under her expert ministrations. Tenderly, she kneaded the exposed skin on the girl's shoulders. She gently massaged her soft neck then slowly worked her way down to rub gentle circles in the smooth hollow of the small of her back. Xandra let out a muffled moan and instinctively parted her legs. Not now, young one. Perhaps another day I will reveal to you the pleasures you might find at my hand. However now is not the time. Sleep, little one. A few moments later, Syn was rewarded with a soft snore. Smiling to herself, she slowly raised herself from the soft divan and backed silently out of the room. If she were only a bit older… With a small sigh she chided herself. There was no time for pleasures of the flesh. She knew they needed to concentrate on getting Sheken to safety before they were discovered.

As the wall dissolved once more, her mind briefly struggled to make sense with what she was seeing. Where two figures had been, there was now only one form beneath the blankets on the bed. It only took a few seconds of observation to enlighten her to the nature of this apparently singular entity.

She blinked so hard with shock she was certain that they might have heard her had their attentions not been so completely focused. She watched the blankets writhe rhythmically. She felt a familiar urge course through her as she stood transfixed by the actions of the pair that lay grappling before her.

Closing her eyes, she slipped gently into the small redhead's mind and let herself enjoy the surge of endorphins as the girl writhed beneath the stalker in exquisite bliss. She was panting hard as the moment she was anticipating drew near. Syn used her own lust to fuel the girl's urgings and push her over the edge. A quiet cry struggled to escape Sheken's satin lips, muffled by the fact that Marcus had his probing tongue entwined with her own.

Moments later, all three of them were panting hard as Sheken opened her eyes to see Syn standing over them. She blushed lightly as she pulled the covers up to hide the bare curves of her exposed breasts and raised herself to sit up in the bed.

Syn looked deeply into her eyes and smiled. There is no need for shame. I am the one who should be ashamed for intruding upon...

"It's okay," Sheken interrupted, aloud. "I don't know what happened. We just...got carried away, I guess you'd call it." She looked over at Marcus with her cheeks aflame. Marcus smiled sheepishly and shook his head.

Syn laughed softly, "Okay, play time is over. If we don't make a break for it now, we risk being found here."

"Was that Naimah?" Sheken asked with a look of worry.

The succubus shook her head. "No, it was the little girl Maritus is preening as his next victim. She's an orphan Naimah somehow 'acquired'. Don't ask me how, but she managed to steal her away from the orphanage. The girl was very young, and terrified. When she tried to escape, Naimah cursed her with the powers of Hell, giving her unusual control over fire and bitter cold. Naimah has given her to Maritus to look after until she reaches her age of awareness."

"I didn't think humans had an age of awareness," Sheken murmured.

"Normally, they do not," Syn explained. "However, the curse upon this child and the resulting powers she carries will culminate at her age of awareness. Just as yours will."

Sheken nodded. "That's why Naimah wants to kill me now."

Syn nodded glumly. "Yes. For you know it is said that on the day of your awareness you will strike out at your brother and defeat him, and wound the one who would come to save him with a mortal blow." She gave Sheken a knowing glance. "Naimah."

Sheken blinked and bowed her head. "This prophecy has haunted me since the day I was born. Deathwynd was able to give rise to the prophecy by stealing my brother, and turning him to the ways of evil."

Syn looked at her with a mask of deep sorrow. "You know of course, the prophecy has now shifted, and in the favor of those who would do you harm. With Azazela gone..." her voice cracked as her eyes begin to mist.

Sheken's eyes watered hard as she fought to keep from crying. Marcus blushed hard out of an immense wave of guilt over his part in her aunt's demise.

"My mother...she's okay?" Sheken asked, looking into Syn's dark eyes.

"From what I could determine, she has not come under attack yet. However, knowing Xandaros, I am certain that he and his minions have something planned."

Sheken shuddered. A distant memory of waking in her childhood bed came crashing back to her consciousness....


She slipped from the warmth of the down coverlet, and silently made her way down the kitchen. Her little stomach rumbled softly. Her mother had made a spinach and ham soufflé for dinner and Sheken held both prime ingredients in great disdain. She'd abstained from all but a few mouthfuls of egg picked from around the offending contaminants. As she crept in to the kitchen, she heard soft hushed voices coming from the direction of the den. After assuring herself that no one was in visual range, she quietly opened the refrigerator and drank a huge draught from the carton of icy milk. Replacing the carton with a muffled giggle, she climbed up on the counter and stood on tiptoes, reaching the top of the refrigerator where the holy grail of midnight snacks could be found. Silently lifting the lid, she clutched as many cookies as her tiny fist could hold, and eased the ceramic lid back onto the jar without a sound. She lithely climbed from the counter without shedding so much as a crumb of her precious commodity. She wolfed down the first cookie, then nibbled at the next for a moment, savoring the meaty walnuts and the dark chocolate. Her mother had many talents and one of them was baking divine chocolate chip cookies.

Her grumbling tummy now sated, she found herself drawn to the hushed sounds of conversation coming from the dimly lit den.

She stood just outside the door and tuned her ears to the sounds within. Her mother's voice was a bit louder and fairly easy to hear. Azazela's voice was soft and required intense focus to catch what she was saying..

"...but I still feel as though I failed her somehow." Azazela's voice was tainted with sorrow.

"You did what you had to do, Az," Dawl answered her sister gently.

"Perhaps if I'd have..." Azazela's voice trailed.

"Nothing you could have done would have changed that child. Az, you don't need to feel guilty over this. Stop blaming yourself. The child was conceived of evil, born of evil, and destined to be evil."

"But she is my child."

"Azazela, listen to me. You had nothing to do with her creation. Xandaros forced himself on you. You were the victim here. That is HIS child, and she is destined to serve him. She is more demon than human, and that cannot be changed. There is no chance for her redemption. That is why you had to send her away. She would have changed you, not the other way around."

Sheken knew her aunt had a child some time ago. She'd heard hushed whispers within the family on a few occasions. She only knew that the child had been sent away at a very young age. This puzzled her greatly as she could never understand how her dear loving aunt could have done such a thing. All of a sudden she realized the truth. Even at her young age, she knew where babies came from and she understood the implications behind her mother's scathing indictment against Xandaros.

Az sighed deeply. "I know that Xandaros has sworn vengeance upon both of us for his defeat on that awful night. I am sorry that I got you involved."

Sheken heard the pitch of her mother's voice raising exponentially. "How can you say that? If I had not GOTTEN INVOLVED, who knows what else he may have done to you? If he wants vengeance, then let him try. I don't fear him nor his bumbling masses. They can all go straight to hell, and this time, they can stay there."

Az choked on a small sob. "But if it were not for me..."

"If it were not for you, countless people would have died over the years that you've been doing your work here in Paragon City. My coming to help you that night made that a reality. I am more than willing to take the risks along with the reward of still having my sister around."

Sheken heard the sound of light footsteps and the soft creak that the sofa in the den made when someone perched themselves upon the arm. Though she could not see around the corner, in her mind she pictured her mother sitting next to her statuesque aunt and wrapping her small arms around her.

"Az, I love you. I did what I had to do. Don't let Xandaros use the past to make you doubt yourself. Together, we can beat him. We have many friends here who are willing to fight at our side. We've beaten him twice now. He may just be a slow learner but eventually he will figure out that he cannot win. Trust me."

Az stood up from the sofa and looked around the room for a tissue. Hearing the footsteps, Sheken shrank back into the shadows and quickly retreated to her room with the remainder of her loot from the midnight raid on the cookie jar. But the cookies now turned to dust on her tongue as she choked on feelings of the deep sorrow that she felt for her beautiful aunt weighing heavily on her young heart.


A quiet rage built up within the girl. "I swear, someday I will make Naimah and Xandaros pay for what they have done."

Syn met her eyes with a worried look. Inwardly she hoped the girl would not try something foolish and risk her own life out of anger and grief. She patted the girl's shoulder tenderly. "I, too, have a score to settle with Xandaros and Naimah. Now is not the time, but may it be that on that day when vengeance comes to pass, I pray that I may stand at your side."

Sheken met Syn's eyes with a silent nod. Marcus reached around her to encircle her in his arms. Syn smiled and stood up, turning her back to them. "You both need to retrieve your clothing," she said with a soft chuckle.

Sheken blushed once again, and fished around on the floor for the crumpled pile of flannel. She slipped into the shirt, inhaling the scent of Marcus that was embedded deeply in its soft fibers. He tenderly reached over to deftly button the buttons, this time starting with the one between her breasts as he tenderly planted a light kiss in the silken vale of her cleavage. As he worked his way to the bottom button, he ran the tip of one finger playfully along the inside of her warm thigh. She giggled softly at the tickle of his feathery touch.

Now it was his turn to blush as he slid to the edge of the bed and looked around for his pants. Sheken stood and retrieved them from several feet beyond the foot of the bed, where he'd flung them in the heat of passion. With a murmured "Thank you," he slid them on as she averted her gaze to try to avoid staring.

She found the sweatpants, and padded slowly off in the direction of the base facilities. Syn slipped down the opposite hall to insure that Xandra was indeed still fast asleep. Marcus donned his clothing and sat back on the bed to contemplate his fate while he waited for his turn to clean up.

Maritus was going to be furious. Naimah would likely be beyond furious. He knew his chances for survival at this point were slim. If one of them did not kill him, the other surely would. He hoped they did not discover that the succubus had a part in helping them escape. He was beginning to see her in a whole new light, and he found himself liking what he saw. She was right.

She wasn't at all what he'd first assumed her to be.

As he quietly ruminated upon their possible future, Sheken stole silently back into the room. She'd instinctively woven the threads of darkness around her. He smiled at her as she approached.

"Your turn," she said, in a hushed voice, as she pointed towards the hallway leading to the bathroom. He nodded and planted a small kiss on her cheek as he passed her on his way to refresh himself.

Suddenly a crackle of energy signaled a new breach of the portal. Syn spun around, half afraid to see who might have invaded their lair this time. Her heart pounded hard in her chest as she realized Sheken was alone in the open chamber, and Marcus was down the corridor in the bathroom.

She swallowed hard as she moved closer to the entryway. As she looked around the corner, she was blinded by an astounding golden glow. She shrank back from the searing warmth of the aura and tried to determine what manner of creature had found them.

"Be not afraid," a soft voice echoed throughout the chamber.

The little succubus gasped in shock as her eyes flew open wide. "Azazela? Is it really you?"

Az stepped down from the platform and approached Syn. "Yes. It really is." She smiled warmly.

"I am so sorry I was not there to help you."

"There would have been nothing you could have done. Even the both of us could not have prevailed in the face of such an onslaught. It would have only meant your demise as well. I was the one who was foolish. I was the one who deserved to pay for that foolishness."

Syn shook her head. "Oh Az. What happened?"

"Xandaros, Naimah, and a few thousand of their minions showed up to welcome me. It appears our friend, the thief, betrayed me."

Syn shook her head. "I am so sorry."

"It was my fault," Az said soothingly. "I was so blinded by emotion that I did not think rationally. I ignored my own instincts, and Cale's dire warnings. He was right. I was a fool. But enough of that. It is finished. I have been sent here by the Creator."

Syn trembled. "I knew this day would come." Her eyes misted as she related to Azazela the details of the whole sordid plot that had unfolded around the unsuspecting Sheken in order to divert attention from Azazela's untimely fate. Her voice faltered as she explained Marcus's role in the saga.

"I understand," Azazela said with a solemn nod. "But by his brave actions he will redeem himself." She looked down at the floor as she remembered her own assault at the hands of the cruel Xandaros. She felt a wave of empathic pain for what Sheken must have endured.

"I have stolen those memories," Syn added as she read Az's thoughts, "with Sheken's permission, of course. She will remember the ordeal no longer."

"You must leave this place." Az's voice took on a somber tone. "Naimah will come here soon, seeking you. You must take Sheken, and the assassin, and flee to the only place where they cannot touch you. The nightclub known as Pocket D."

Syn shook her head. "I cannot stay with them. I must return to my service with the doctor, as much as I do not want to."

Az nodded. "It is the girl they want. Sheken is destined to do great things, someday, if she is allowed to live to see that day."

Syn nodded. "The prophecy. I know. Azazela, I give you my word not as a lesser demon, but as a friend. I will protect the girl with even my own existence."

"May it be that it will not come to that point." Az reached her arms out and embraced the small, dark haired beauty. "Tell Sheken that I love her and I will come to her soon. For now, I must go. Peace be with you, Syndi, and be well."

Syn nodded with tears flooding her eyes as she hugged Azazela tightly.

As Marcus returned from cleaning himself up, he peered down the hall to see Syn in the sitting room, hovering over a soundly sleeping Xandra. She pressed herself deep into the young girl's dreams. She used her sway to calm the child and induce a deep, lasting slumber. Once she was sure that Xandra would remain asleep for some time, she returned to the small chamber to find Marcus and Sheken fully clothed and sharing a rather torrid embrace. She coughed softly as she approached and watched Marcus jerk his head up with a look of guilty surprise.

She gave him a knowing wink. "Follow me," she commanded.

The petite redhead and the silent stalker both cloaked themselves in the shadows and fell into step behind the little succubus. She, too, invoked the powers of darkness to hide herself as they approached the portal back to Port Oakes.

Sheken arched her back as she felt the familiar surge of energy as the portal's arcane powers absorbed her essence and transferred it to the exact spot where she'd entered the hidden lair. Syn and Marcus materialized at her side. With a finger to her lips, Syn motioned them into the dark shadows along the side of a tall building. The alley way was littered with refuse and an occasional unconscious vagrant that the trio had to carefully step around. Picking their way through the darkness and debris, they finally made their way to the shore, where the building stood that housed the entrance to the interdimensional night club.

Marcus grasped the door handle and motioned the ladies ahead of him. Syn shook her head. "This is where we part company, my dear." Sheken turned and gave her a disappointed frown. "You can't come with us?"

The succubus shook her head. "No. As it stands right now, no one knows that I am involved. Naimah may have her suspicions, but she dare not accuse me outright. Besides, with me here, I can continue to exert my influence over the bumbling doctor. He only thinks he runs the Betrothed, and I'd like to keep it that way, at least for a while. I will bide my time. The day will come, I am certain, when I will fight at your side, and all of us, including Lady Azazela, will be avenged."

Tears stung her eyes as she reached for Sheken and embraced her in a bone-crushing hug. "Be careful, little one. And I might suggest you take the time to invest in some method of preventing any unwanted little surprises, if you know what I mean. It is near your time to be fertile."

"How...?" Sheken began as the succubus gave her a sly wink.

"You'd be surprised what I can see." She turned to Marcus, "You must take care also. You are in grave danger now. I shall do what I can to mitigate the situation, but I have no control over Naimah. She will pose an incredible danger to both of you."

Marcus nodded. He reached out to Syn and gave her a gentle hug. "Thanks for your help. Fertile?" he whispered into her ear. Syn grasped his hand firmly, and when she pulled her delicate fingers from his grasp a tiny foil packet remained. He laughed softly. "Okay, okay, I get the picture."

Sheken blushed as he took her hand. "Thank you, Syn."

They stepped inside the doorway. Sheken remained enveloped in threads of darkness as they slipped down the corridor to the elevator, still gripping his hand as they entered the noisy club.


"She will be fine in a few months, I am sure. She's been through a lot all at once. She just needs some time, and lots of love, to heal."

Keres nodded thoughtfully as he watched her sleeping. Even in the depths of the drug-induced slumber, her visage was tense and drawn. This was one battle he could not fight for her, and it was driving him crazy.

"Thanks, doc," he said quietly. "I just wish there was something I could do." He gently pulled a few sweaty strands of tangled red mane from her forehead.

"You are doing it. She knows you are here." The doctor gave him a soft smile. "I have known her for a long time, and she's a tough little fighter. I am sure with your support she will pull through this dark time. It won't be soon. But in time, she will heal."

Keres nodded as he met the young doctor's pale blue eyes. "Thanks for coming. I hated to call you at this late hour. I tried to get her to go in yesterday for an appointment but she refused. She can be pretty stubborn."

The doctor laughed. "Yes, that she is. That may work to our advantage. It means she's less likely to just give up and become despondent. She's pretty heavily sedated right now. I'd like to keep her that way. At least for a couple of weeks, until the initial shock of losing her sister begins to lose its edge."

He nodded. "I agree."

"Az..." they both turned as the diminutive redhead began to toss beneath the covers.

The doctor met his worried gaze and shook her head. "A nightmare. The sedatives will hopefully keep her from remembering them. But there is nothing I can do to stop them from happening."

Suddenly, the little empath shot bolt upright in the bed. The sheets fell away as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and promptly fell flat on her face.

Keres reached down to help her up and urged her back into the bed.

"No!" she insisted as she fought off his embrace. "Az!"

Tears stung his eyes. The doctor exchanged a sympathetic glance with him and stepped over to assist him in guiding Dawl back onto the bed.

With a force stronger than he'd ever seen, she broke free of their hold. "NO!" she yelled, struggling to focus her eyes. The room was spinning and she could not bring anything into focus but she knew one thing. She needed to get out of that bed and to the balcony. She flung herself forward and promptly face-planted onto the soft carpet. This is like being drunk, she thought in frustration. Wait, I have had lots of practice at this. I can do this!

Before they could get a firm grip on her as she lay on the floor, she wriggled free and began to crawl towards the doors. She reached up for the knob, pulling herself upright and yanking the door open simultaneously, resulting in her falling backwards as the door swung in towards her. She landed squarely on her rear, bouncing slightly as she hit the floor. "Ow!" she uttered, as she rolled just out of her lovers grasping reach to once again scramble on hands and knees towards the balcony.

The night air was decidedly cold. A clear sky was strewn with countless glittering stars. The tiniest sliver of a moon hung low on the horizon as she gazed out over the city.

A sharp breeze gusted across the balcony as the tiny empath felt the cobbled stone grind into the palms of her hands and her knees. Her eyes tried to focus on the firmament stretched out above her. As she felt tears of frustration stinging her eyes, a warm glow washed over her upturned face.

"Az..." she cried, weakly.

Keres and the doctor stood in the doorway watching the little redhead as she raised up to lift her hands to the heavens. Suddenly the glow brightened and a ball of bright energy began to coalesce directly above the kneeling demoness.

At first the light was brilliant and blinding. As their eyes adjusted, they could see the outline of a huge wingspan overshadowing the balcony. The air churned as a warm golden light shone round the figure hovering above.

"Hello, my sister," Azazela said, as calmly as if she'd just come from a routine mission. Her voice sounded like a chorus as it rang out on the cool night breezes.

"I must...be dreaming...it's the drugs..." Dawl mumbled as she collapsed in a graceless heap on the cold rough stone.

Keres leaped to her side and cradled her gently while the doctor stood frozen in shock. Not only was she Dawl's physician, but she was her friend. She, too, had been to Azazela's funeral. She'd seen the casket closed and ultimately lowered into the dark stone tomb. This could not be real.

Keres broke the tension. "Az, you're looking pretty good for a dead girl."

"Much has happened since I left this earth," Az said quietly. "I have been...changed."

Keres cocked his head to one side. "How so?"

"I am no longer counted as one of the Fallen ones, but have been restored to the ranks of the Obedient."

Keres grinned widely. "I can understand that. You were always a good girl, at heart, Az."

He looked down at the unconscious empath in his arms. "Can you still....?"

With a slight nod, Azazela stretched forth her hand and cast a burst of sparkling purple light over the little redhead. A sudden lucidity surged through the tiny redhead as her eyes fluttered open. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked into her sister's eyes.

"Az? What are you doing here?" she croaked.

"I have returned to this place. I have been sent her to help you."

Dawl looked at her sister's radiant form. "Are you... a demon now?"

Az shook her head. "I suppose you could say I was pardoned."

Dawl gasped. "You are 'Elohiym," she whispered as she prostrated herself before her sister.

Azazela nodded. "You need not bow before me. I am no different than you."

Dawl's eyes welled with tears. "Az, that isn't true. You've always been different. You have always been the good one."

Azazela landed softly on the rough surface and reached out to take her sister in her arms. "We all have much good within us. It is that good that we must nurture and share, in order to bring peace and light to this dying world."

The little empath wrapped her arms around the angel who was holding her tightly. "I can't believe you are here. And alive. I've been so..."

Az met her eyes. "I know. I must tell you, Sheken is okay. She is in the company of an assassin, the same one who was sent to kill her. He found he could not bring himself to do this vile deed and instead fled with her, with the help of a young demoness who has betrayed her master. They are all in grave danger, both from the forces of Arachnos, and from those who seek retribution. My firstborn leads the charge against them. It was she who..." Azazela's voice cracked.

"Killed you?" Keres asked quietly.

Az nodded. "She used my own weakness against me. It was my own fault. I should have listened to Cale."

Dawl shook her head vigorously. "You were just being a mother, Az. We cannot help the way we feel about our children. No matter what they do we love them. We can't help it. It is just part of who we are."

Az looked pensive for a moment before her expression turned grim. "At any rate, I must go to Adara, and of course, in doing so I will inevitably end up seeing Cale." She drew a protracted sigh.

"Do you want us to come along?" her sister suggested, helpfully.

Azazela gave her a pallid smile and shook her head. "Thank you, but no. This is something I must do alone."

"Are you..." the tiny empath's voice cracked as she struggled to find the right words.

Reading her sister's thoughts with an ease and a clarity that took her by complete surprise, Az gave her a nod and a knowing look. "Yes, I will be staying here. I will not need the same...accommodations...as I did before. But to answer your unspoken question, I will be around."

Dawl smiled broadly at the stunning blonde towering over her. "I am glad. I don't know what you went through. I know it must have been awful. But..." she paused, running forward and throwing herself at the statuesque angel. "I just want to say, that I missed you and I love you, very much."

Az smiled and returned the hug. "I love you, too, DeLara. I could not ask for a better sister."

"Oh Az, yes you could. If I hadn't been out of my head worrying over Sheken, I could have come and..."

"And what? Died beside me? What happened was what was meant to be. Do not blame yourself in this matter." Az held her sister tight and stroked the wispy red mane in between the empath's thick horns.

With a tearful gaze the small empath pulled herself from her sister's grasp. "Maybe we both need to stop trying blame ourselves for things beyond our control."

Az nodded thoughtfully. With a long blink she said "I must go now. I still have to go to Adara. And face Cale..." she added ruefully.

"Good luck with that," Dawl quipped with a wry smile.

"I am glad you are back." Keres broke his thoughtful silence as he hugged the towering blonde angel.

"Thank you," she whispered breathlessly as she recovered from the powerful scrappers embrace. It made her briefly wonder how her seemingly fragile sister was able to survive his attentions.

Keres turned and put his arms around his tiny mate as they and the still stunned doctor stood on the balcony and watched the glowing angel ascend gracefully into the clear night sky.


"Daddy?" Adara's keen hearing tuned instantly to the sound of the quiet footsteps in the hallway just outside her modest dorm. Expecting to hear the familiar voice of her father heralding his nightly visit, she was instead greeted with only uneasy silence. For the briefest of moments, a feeling of apprehension settled in the pit of her stomach. Quickly her mind reasoned it away, pointing out that the likelihood of any force of evil making it this far past the watchful eyes of the Cabal were fairly slim. Their powerful magic had long protected the sleepy burg of Salamanca. The school and its inhabitants were probably safer than anywhere in Paragon City.

Upon hearing no response, she stood up from her desk and slowly made her way to the door. A barely perceptible tingle of energy coursed through her fingertips as she grasped the cool brass of the worn doorknob. She hesitated for a moment before turning the knob and gently pulling on the door. As the thick oak swung with a muted creak on its ancient hinges, her breath caught in her throat.

She tried to scream, but no sound came out. A blinding glow bathed her in warmth as her mind struggled to find some reasonable explanation for the apparition that now stood before her.

As the glowing form reached out for her, she instinctively retreated backwards. The angel paused and cocked her head.

"Adara, it is me. Your mother."

"My mother is dead," Adara croaked weakly as she found her voice.

"No, darling. Only my human form died. The rest of me was taken from this plane. I stood in the presence of the Creator. He has sent me back here to continue my work upon this earth and to watch over you."

"I...I don't know... how do I know you are real?" Her voice trembled with utter shock.

"Touch me."

The girl looked fearfully around her. She wasn't sure what to think. She remembered the cold damp of the cemetery in gloomy Dark Astoria. She remembered the searing grief as they lowered the ivory casket into the dark tomb. This could not be her mother, she reasoned.

Azazela met her daughter's eyes as she read her thoughts. "Do not be afraid. Is there some way I can prove to you that what I say to you is the truth?" She paused for a moment. "Remember going trick or treating with daddy and me in Peregrine Island when you were still very young? Do you remember Zakai falling asleep with his head on the kitchen table as he was studying for his finals while watching you when I worked in Warburg? Remember both of us pelting your father with snowballs when we all went to the ski chalet for a holiday?" She smiled and stretched forth a massive set of wings that beat the air and raised her to hover just above the worn and ancient rug.

Adara hesitated for a moment. She looked into the glowing creatures sparkling blue eyes. Suddenly she could feel her mother's presence within her own mind and through the maternal empathic bond she just knew that this was really her mother. Rushing forward, she nearly knocked the towering angel out of the air as she gripped her in a fierce hug.

"It IS you! What happened? How did you get back here? And why do you look so...different?" The girl rapidly fired questions at her mother as she clung to her.

"I went to Warburg to...to try to see if I could...find...Naimah. I now know it was wrong, but at the time..." Azazela's voice grew quiet. "I made a deal with a certain thief for the information that would help me locate her. Unfortunately, he chose instead to betray me into her hand. She met me there with her father, Xandaros, and his entire legion of demons."

She paused and lifted her daughter up into her arms and held her close. "After my death, they intended to return my soul to Hell. However Avidan and Ziva arrived with an army of Guardians and spirited me away. I was taken to appear before the Creator that day. He...He deemed me one of the 'elohiym, or the Obedient servants. No longer shall I be called a demon."

"So you are an angel now?" Adara asked, incredulously. "And you got wings?"

Her mother nodded wordlessly.

"Wow, mom, that's cool!"

Azazela laughed and tousled Adara's silky tresses. "More than anything else on this earth, I missed you, my child."

"I missed you, too, mom. I..." Adara's voice cracked as her eyes flooded with tears. "I...thought I'd...never see you...again."

"At the moment I died, I thought the same thing," Az answered in a quiet voice. "It is only by the mercy of the Creator that I have been allowed to return to this place."

Adara hugged her tightly as she prayed a silent thank you.

"If you so much as twitch, I will send you back to the here-after, spirit..... now release my daughter." The words were laced with angry venom born of his panic at seeing this glowing apparition clutching his only child. Both Adara and Azazela were so caught up in their emotional reunion that they failed to hear the Warshade quietly enter the room.

Az spun around to face her lover. In a fraction of a second she went from guilty surprise to utter shock as he shifted his form into the familiar tentacled Nova with a reverberating explosion. She let out a scream as he poised himself for an attack.

"CALE! What are you doing? It is me. Azazela! Please don't!"

"NO DADDY!" Adara shrieked. "Don't hurt Mom!"

He paused for a moment and realized that any blast of quantum energy directed at the spectre that was holding Adara would only risk hitting his daughter as well. With the quiet thud of his boots hitting the floor he shifted back into his human form. "That isn't your mother, Adara. Azazela is dead. I don't know what this thing is, but whoever or whatever it is better let you go. Now." He snarled.

Adara began to sob. She looked from her mother's pale blue eyes back to the glowering purple glow of her father's Nictus infused orbs.

Azazela spoke softly, "Cale, what must I do to prove to you that it is really me?"

He gave her a suspicious glare. "I can't believe that. I watched them place Azazela's body into a consecrated sarcophagus. Tell me why I should believe that she just suddenly woke up, popped the lid on her casket, and decided to stroll all the way from Moth Cemetery to Salamanca for a family reunion?"

"It isn't like that..." Az began.

"You're damned right, it isn't. The dead don't just come back to life of their own volition, unless some force compels them to do so. So what are you? A zombie sent here to kidnap Adara by those twisted Shamans of the Banished Pantheon? A reanimated version of Azazela courtesy of Dr. Vahzilok? You have exactly ten seconds to explain who you are and how you got here before I go all out Nictus on your ass." He could feel the hair rising on the back of his neck as he carefully weighed his options and tried to plan an attack strategy that would not risk the safety of his beloved child.

Azazela thought quickly. "The mask. The first night we...were...together," her voice trailed to a husky whisper, "you explained to me your fascination with the Carnival of shadows. You showed me the mask."

His eyes narrowed to slits, almost fully occluding the bluish glow.

"It was the same night I asked you to give me a child."

Adara blinked painfully hard and dropped her jaw open.

If there was one thing he had learned in all the years he'd spent fighting all manners of evil, both as the Archmage Cale Westmarch and as the Nictus-bound Dark Cenotaph, it was to never trust what his eyes were seeing. His suspicious nature kept him on guard as he warily eyed the glowing blonde that was still clutching his child.

"Let her go," he commanded in a tone that let her know he was not about to take any refusal lightly.

Slowly, Az loosened her grip on Adara. The child, however, clung all that much more tightly to her mother.

"Adara, let go and come to me."

For the first time in her life, she looked her father in the eyes, and with a determined voice, said: "No."

His jaw hit the floor as he growled in frustration.

"Adara, come here NOW. You don't know what this thing is. Until we find out, you are safer with me."

"NO! Daddy, you can be mad at me all you want, but you have to listen to me, this once." She set her jaw and gave her father a stubborn glare.

"Adara Westmarch, this is no time to start rebelling against my authority. I am your father, and I am telling you to let go and come over here to me."

Adara shook her head vehemently. Azazela, who up until this moment had been subconsciously holding her breath, let it out in one long sigh. "Adara, my child, listen to your father. It is not right that you should disobey him."

Adara looked up into her mother's eyes. With a crestfallen look she reluctantly released the death grip she'd been maintaining and slowly eased her way over to her father.

"Don't hurt her, daddy" she begged as she took her place at her father's side.

For one very long, tense moment, he stood staring at the creature before him. The resemblance was uncanny, however it would take far more than a talented visual illusion to sway his skepticism. It took every shred of willpower that he had to fight the urge to shapeshift into the powerful Nova and repolarize the strange being's life-energy with a dark quantum burst. His body tingled with a faint blackish purple glow as he reached out to siphon a minute thread of her life force. A shockwave of realization nearly floored him as his keen Nictus senses told him the "taste" of this particular energy signature was, indeed, the one he'd become so intimately accustomed to sampling on a more than regular basis. His human mind sought to deny the facts that his quantum senses were presenting to him. Everything he'd learned about death contradicted any possibility of this actually being his lover in an earthly physical form. After all, you couldn't be resurrected without a body to resurrect into. To his knowledge, that body was still sealed in a cold tomb in Dark Astoria. He took another deep draught of her energy and for a brief moment relished the familiar taste that he'd come to love over the years they'd been together. He closed his eyes and exhaled forcefully.

"I am not going to ask how you managed this," Cale said, dryly as he stepped forward to look up into her downcast eyes. He gestured up and down her form. "I don't know, and I don't want to know, that much about the laws of demonic physics to understand how you can physically die and yet be standing here in front of me. But, dammit, Az, what the hell were you thinking?"

Adara's eyes flew open in shock. "Perhaps we should discuss this outside," Az started.

"I don't think so," Cale retorted. "Adara isn't a baby, anymore, Az. And what you did - what you put us through - affected her as much as it did me." The volume of his voice raised a notch giving it a decidedly angry edge.

Tears stung Adara's eyes, "Daddy, please, it's alright," Adara plead.

"No, it is not alright, Adara," he said sternly, shooting his daughter a 'you really don't want to argue with me on this subject' glare. He turned his attention back to Az. "Do you have any idea what you put us through? How it made us feel to find out you'd... you'd..."

"Died?" she offered, meekly.

"Yes, that. And to see your body lay there in that casket, knowing that you were gone. Really gone...Do you have ANY idea how much you hurt us? All of us? Me, Adara...your entire family...had to watch them bury you. Your sister has been just about insane with grief." A lump formed in his throat. "And now, you somehow waltz back in here and expect me to, what? Just pretend all that never happened?"

"Cale, you have every right to be angry with me," she began, softly.

"You're damn right I do!" He turned his back and blinked hard trying to stem the imminent flood of tears that surged forth, as much from his rage as from confusion mingled with pain.

"All that I can say is that I am sorry. I didn't think-"

"That much is obvious," he interrupted in a tone of bitter sarcasm.

She drew a deep sigh and put her hand on his shoulder. "All I can do is apologize. I cannot turn back time. I know it hurt you. I know it hurt Adara. I never intended for things to turn out the way they did. I only wanted to see...her. I was not expecting...to...be..."

She swallowed slowly. He roughly shook her hand off his shoulder and stormed back out the door in stony silence. They felt the ground shake with a massive wave of quantum energy. They knew he'd shifted into the form of the hulking Dwarf. Someone or something was going to bear the brunt of his anger and frustration tonight. Az sighed with relief knowing she was now not the immediate focus of his ire. She slowly shook her head as she imagined him yelling "Squish!" and pounding the daylights out of some Carnival strongman. She turned and looked at Adara with an expression of hopeless frustration. Her daughter hovered close to her and held out her arms.

As she pulled her mother close, she whispered, "It is okay, Mom. I know you loved Naimah. You just have too much love in your heart, sometimes."

There are moments when the most simplistic statements of a child can transcend all the insanity of a complex world. Azazela hugged her young daughter and kissed her gently on the forehead. "I love you," was all she said.

Adara smiled up at her mother. "Let me talk to daddy. Once he cools down, of course."

She hesitated for a moment and gave her mother an uncomfortable glance. "Mom, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, my child."

"When you were trying to convince daddy...umm...that you were really you...you said...well..." she blushed furiously. "You really ASKED him to get your pregnant?"

Azazela's face went ashen as her cheeks rose to a truly crimson hue. "Adara..." she fumbled for some tactful way to phrase the explanation, but in her own mind the whole incident still evoked powerful feelings of embarrassment and discomfort.

"Adara, you shouldn't ask such things of your mother," a firm voice said behind her. "All will be revealed in due time. For now, we shall have some tea." With a firm clap of her hands, Mary Macomber summoned a trio of Adepts to bring service to the small room as she pulled up a tiny chair. "Azazela, I have awaited this day. Welcome back to the world of the living." The wizened woman gave the angel a knowing smile. "Your mettle was tested and you were found to be stronger than you'd ever believed, no doubt. I had a feeling that once the space of three days had passed, this would be where I would find you."

Azazela smiled. She now understood why her sister held this elder in such high regard. The ancient sorceress was as gracious as she was wise.

"I was disappointed to hear that you had to endure such a heinous attack. Those responsible will ultimately pay for their deeds. No matter. What is done is done." She waved her hand to dismiss the dark subject as she motioned to a tray of fragrant tea and a platter of freshly baked breads.

"For now, we shall enjoy each others' company, and await the return of the Warshade," she said, with a wink to Adara.


Dawl stood in the hallway as she heard Keres answer the phone. She noticed the changes in tone and pitch in his voice, and a sliver of apprehension crept into her mind as she strained to hear what he was saying. She growled softly as she heard him end the call before she could hear enough to know what it was about.

As he approached her she saw that his brow was knit in a thoughtful grimace. He met her eyes, speaking slowly as if he was thinking of how to properly phrase what he was about to say.

"Come with me, I have something to show you," he said slowly.

She cocked her head to the side and shot him an inquisitive glance. "Come where with you?"

He drew a short breath and pursed his lips. "Do you trust me?" he asked, knowing full well what her response would be before the words rolled off his tongue.

"Of course I do."

"Then, please, don't ask questions, just come with me."

She nodded slowly and followed him to the door. They took the elevator down to the ground floor. She fell in step as he turned west and headed down the block. For a few minutes, she pondered their destination. She didn't have long to wonder as he stopped a few blocks later at the door to the interdimensional night club.

She shot him a completely bewildered look. "Why are we here?"

"Remember what I said about not asking questions?" he looked at her with a gentle smile. "Just trust me."

She nodded and followed him through the door. They made their way into the main club and she followed him as he walked past every bar and headed straight for the main center stage where the club owner was chatting with a small group of patrons.

Looking up as he saw the scrapper approach him, DJ Zero motioned to them to come closer. He leaned in and whispered something into Keres' ear as Dawl stood beside him looking dazed.

The smiling DJ turned to his fans. "Take heart, good people. The show will go on, but I must take a few moments to attend to something important. Enjoy this newest remix and keep the dance floor hopping until my return!" He signaled one of his sound men to take over and keep the music going during his brief absence, then motioned to Keres to follow him.

The duo followed him up the stairs and to a door with a faded, barely legible sign that simply said "Private". He placed his hand on a sensor next to the door which unlocked the door. Opening the room, he motioned them in ahead of him.

He gestured towards a group of chairs across from a slightly cluttered desk. Shelves along one wall held various collections from reel tapes to CDs to old vinyl records. DJ Zero extended his hand to the little empath. "I am sure you are wondering why you are here."

She nodded. He exchanged a glance with the scrapper seated next to her. "Well, as you may know, I love seeing folks happy. I created this place as a haven for peace and harmony. It is a place where those who would be enemies can actually get to know and understand each other."

Her expression remained blank as she wondered what this had to do with her.

"I have heard about the tragedy your family has been through, and I am sorry." He met her eyes with a sincere look of sympathy. "But sometimes something good can come out of something that seems very bad."

Saying that, he pushed a small button on a small console on the desk. A speaker crackled to life as a faceless voice answered. "Yes, sir?"

"Hey, dude! Can you escort our two VIP guests up here to my office? Thanks!"

"Will do. On my way!"

He turned his attentions back to the pair seated before him. "I just want to remind you that there is no fighting allowed here."

Dawl's expression faded from curious to completely confused. None of this was making any sense.

A few minutes later a loud knock echoed over the thumping bass beat of the music. As the DJ leaned forward and pushed another button on the console, a buzzer sounded and the door clicked loudly.

As the door swung open, Keres turned to catch Dawl as she collapsed for the second time that day.


Sheken stood over her mother's limp form and shook her head slowly. "Boy is she going to be pissed when she wakes up," she mused, almost to herself.

"Sheken, you know she doesn't allow you to talk like that," Keres reminded her, firmly.

"Sorry," she blushed. "I guess I was just thinking out loud."

Marcus remembered his last meeting with the fiery empath. He stood behind Sheken with a hand on her shoulder. She could feel a mild tremor course through him.

Keres looked him up and down. "You're the stalker," he said in a flat tone.

Marcus met his eyes and nodded, unable to bring himself to speak.

Sheken opened her mouth to speak but before she could, their host returned with a medic and a glass of cool water. The medic stooped over the prone demoness and pulled out a small handheld device. He adjusted a dial then pressed a button, releasing a soft green glow. Within seconds the groggy empath stirred and opened her eyes.

As her vision focused on the girl bending anxiously over her, she caught a glimpse of the stalker standing just behind her. She bolted into a sitting position and with a flash of incredible speed, she lunged forward and reached out to grab him by the throat.

"What are you doing here? You have some nerve."

DJ Zero put his hand on Dawl's shoulder. "Remember, no fighting."

"There won't be any fight to it," she snarled as she tightened the grip around the stalker's esophagus.

Marcus could feel her talons pressing into this skin, but made no move to defend himself.

Sheken grabbed her mother's wrists. "Mom, you don't understand," she pleaded. "He brought me back."

"He also took you away, or did you forget that part," her mother growled. "Why are you defending him?"

"He's had a change of heart, mom. Just give him a chance to explain."

"I haven't heard him explain anything," Dawl retorted, between clenched teeth.

"That's because you are cutting off his air," Keres offered gently.

For a tense moment, time stood still as all eyes focused on the little redhead with the stalker in her death grip.

"Please, mom, just hear him out," Sheken begged with tears in her eyes.

Dawl's eyes narrowed as a low growl rumbled deep in her throat. She grudgingly released the hold on the assassin's throat.

He stumbled backwards sucking in a huge draught of air. His hands went to his throat, rubbing the indentations made from her talons. He considered it a small miracle when he found no blood or broken skin. As he caught his breath, he looked the empath straight in the eye, and quietly began, "I am going to be honest with you. I kidnapped your daughter. I was hired by Naimah. They wanted me to hold her long enough to distract you, and then I was to kill her."

Dawl glared daggers at him. "They?"

"I was working directly for Doctor Maritus, the leader of the Betrothed and a pawn of Naimah's. I didn't want this job to begin with. It made me sick just to think of it. Literally and physically sick. But I had no other choice. The doctor has an incredible amount of control over the minds of others. I had just saved Sheken from that group of hoodlums in Pocket D, and brought her safely home when I found out that she was the target of my next assignment."

He dropped his head and stared at the floor. "I have been under Doctor Maritus' control for a long time. I am not using that as an excuse, of course. With the help of a..." he found his tongue stumbling over the word, "...friend...I was able to break away, and bring Sheken back. I know what I did was wrong. I know I caused you and your whole family a lot of grief. I am fully prepared to surrender myself to the authorities for what I have done to Sheken, and to all of you."

"NO!" Sheken wailed. "You can't do that. You will end up in the Zig!"

Every jaw in the room dropped in a synchronized gesture of shock as every eye focused upon the young redhead.

Her mother found her voice first. "Don't tell me you are scr...mmmph." Keres reached over and gently clamped a large palm over the empath's mouth.

"What your mother is trying to ask you is - are you involved with him, Sheken?" Keres asked, tactfully.

Sheken's face flamed a shade darker than her fiery hair. She shot a pleading gaze at Marcus, then dropped her eyes to the floor and silently nodded.

Dawl instantly went livid. "I cannot believe you. What were you thinking? This isn't some pretend adventure from one of those goofy romance novels you read. This is real life and this man is a dangerous killer. What the hell is wrong with you? He was going to KILL you? Don't you understand that?" She grabbed Sheken by the shoulders and shook her firmly. "And you gave him your virginity?"

Marcus choked and blushed furiously, but brought his gaze up to meet her mother's. "Don't judge her too harshly. She didn't give anything."

In the space of the four or five seconds it took that statement to register in the empath's brain, the entire population of that room collectively held their breath for what seemed like hours. Dawl blinked hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, as a demonic roar rumbled from her chest. Before anyone could react she spun and once again had a death grip on the stalker, but this time her talons were not embedded in his throat.

He immediately stood up straight as his breath caught in his throat and stayed there.

"Give me ONE GOOD REASON why I should not remove these from your body," Dawl snarled, menacingly.

"MOM! Please don't!" Sheken screamed as she watched Marcus stand on his tiptoes as her mother tightened her grip.

Marcus looked the empath in the eyes. "I would not blame you if that is what you wish to do," he whispered hoarsely.

"NO!" Sheken screeched as she launched herself towards her mother. Dawl sidestepped at the last second, sending Sheken sprawling to the floor. She shook off the impact and stood to face her mother. "Let him go, Mom. Please?"

Keres stepped forward. "Dawl, maybe it would be best to let the authorities deal with him."

She felt the rage within her being to subside as the scrapper wrapped his arm around her and took her outstretched wrist in one hand. Applying slight pressure to the inside of her wrist, he forced her to open her curled fingers. As she released her grip on the assassin's most tender parts, he sank to the floor. Panting with relief, he looked up and gave Keres a nod of gratitude.

Keres turned to DJ Zero. "Do you think you could quietly arrange for the police to come escort him to jail."

Sheken looked crestfallen. Marcus turned to her and shook his head. "Don't be upset. This is what needs to be done."

"I don't want you to go," she said, tearfully.

"What I did was wrong. I have done a lot of things that are wrong." He drew a deep breath. "It is time to pay the piper."

She began to sob. Dawl turned to her daughter and took her in her arms. "Sheken, I don't really understand what is going on here. Maybe I don't really want to know. But the important thing is, you are safe now." She paused and swallowed hard as tears stung her eyes. "I have something to tell you."

"I know," her daughter answered. "They killed Aunt Az."

Her mother nodded. "But...that isn't all of it..." she began. Suddenly a bright blinding light filled the room.

"What the..." DJ Zero began. "I am supposed to be the only one opening dimensional portals here."

The light coalesced into the form of a tall, glowing angel. "Aunt Az!" Sheken squealed.

The tall blonde nodded with a smile.

"Are you...a ghost?" the girl asked.

"No, Sheken. I am now one of the Host of the Creator."

Sheken blinked in amazement. "Wow. How cool. My aunt's an angel."

DJ Zero reached out a hand, "I think some congratulations are in order, Az. Sounds like you got promoted! How about a party, to celebrate? Drinks are on me!"

He turned to Dawl, "Would you mind if the stalker joins us? I promise I will have the PPD come get him as soon as the festivities are over."

Dawl gave the assassin a sidelong glare. Sheken shot her a pleading glance as she dropped to her knees. "Please, Mom! I swear I won't argue with you about anything for a year if you say yes."

Keres had to choke back a guffaw. "Sweets, I think you should say yes just because I want to see her try to keep that promise."

Dawl looked around her. Everyone in the room was watching her to see what she would say. Slowly she nodded.

Marcus turned to Azazela. "I owe you a deep apology. Though we have never met, I feel responsible for your death."

Azazela smiled and shook her head. "It was meant to be that way. Your bravery and your honesty in facing the consequences of your actions have redeemed you. You put your own life on the line to bring Sheken back here."

He dropped his gaze. "Yes, but she would not have been in danger in the first place, had it not been for me."

"That is not true, Marcus," the angel said. "Another would have simply taken your place."

He blinked tears away and met her eyes. "Thank you. You are very kind."

Sheken moved towards the glowing angel. "Can I...touch you?"

Az nodded and the girl ran forward to hug her tightly. "I am so glad you are back."

DJ Zero pulled glasses and a bottle of champagne from a small credenza behind his desk. His assistant has returned with a bucket of ice and after a few minutes the drink was properly chilled. With a loud pop, he opened the bubbly and passed around the glasses. Raising a toast, he said "To our newly minted angel, Azazela."


"Sheken, I really think you should reconsider." Her mother pleaded.

"Mom, I know I promised not to argue. And I don't want to argue. But my mind is made up."

Dawl heaved a deep sigh. The prosecutor grimaced and shook his head.

"Sheken," he said, slowly, "you do realize we cannot convict him of the...assault without your testimony."

She nodded emphatically. "I am not going to testify against him."

"But by not testifying, all we can pin on him is your abduction, and even that is a very weak case. By the time we plea bargain, he will be out in six months. Do you really want to see that happen?" The prosecutor gave her a pleading look.

"Look," she said, vehemently, "he turned himself in. He could have run. He has obviously had a serious change of heart. Shouldn't that count for something? What good is putting him back in the Zig going to do?"

"Sheken, he kidnapped you, sexually assaulted you, and came very close to killing you. Don't you think he should bear some consequences for those acts?"

"He didn't kill me," she retorted flatly. "He could have. But he didn't. That's the point. What stopped him? It sure the hell wasn't me."

Dawl's mouth dropped open. "Sheken. Don't talk like that."

"Mom, I am just getting really frustrated. Why can't you people see that he's changed. Why keep punishing him? It won't teach him anything he doesn't already know. He knows he screwed up. He wanted to make amends so badly that he risked his own life in even coming here to make sure that I got back home safely."

Her mother sighed and turned her back towards her daughter. She gave the prosecutor a longsuffering gaze and a shrug. He shook his head and walked out of the room.

Dawl sat down at the table and took her daughter's small hands in her own. "Sheken, I don't understand. Be honest with me, and with yourself, for a moment. Doesn't it bother you that he forced himself on you?"

Sheken's averted her eyes and began to twirl a stray lock of hair around her finger. She smoothed it back behind one horn and cocked her head. "I suppose, a little. There are worse things that could have happened. Yes, I was scared. I knew when I woke up in that place...I knew then he was going to kill me. I kept trying to break loose, and I couldn't..." Her voice cracked as her mind began replaying the memories of her imprisonment in his small domicile. "I don't remember much about him...actually...doing it..."

Her mother gave her a puzzled look. "I think it was that girl. Syn, they call her. She, she did something to my mind. Not in a bad way. She was trying to help me."

"Do you think that is why you don't want to testify against him now? Did she put something in your mind to prevent that from happening?"

"No, Mom. It isn't like that at all. She didn't...do anything to my mind, really. She just... made the bad memories...go away. That's all."

"Why would she help you? She is a villain. Are you sure she wasn't just protecting him?"

Sheken shook her head violently. "Mom, you don't know anything about her. She isn't like that. She was helping me. She was Az's friend."

Her mother closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Sheken, I think you've fallen in with some bad company. I don't like you making friends with the so-called 'Destined Ones' from the Rogue Isles. Look what happened to Az."

"You make it sound like I planned an excursion there to make friends and meet people. You are being very unfair to me."

Dawl growled in frustration, "That isn't what I said at all."

Sheken stood up and turned her back to her mother. "I don't understand why everyone is picking on me. I am the supposed 'victim' here. But no one cares about that, you all just want to use me to get to Marcus."

"Sheken," Dawl said with the pitch of her voice raising a notch, "now you are the one who is not being fair. We just want what is best for you."

"Then let it go. I am not going to testify against him. You can put me on the stand, call me as a witness, whatever. But I assure you that my memory will prove very unreliable and it will be a big waste of your time." She directed the last comment towards the prosecutor who had returned and was standing in the doorway holding two cups of some steaming beverage. He offered one to Dawl as he slowly walked into the room and lowered himself into a chair.

"Okay, Sheken," he said, wearily. "I won't ask you again. But you realize this means he may get off altogether, or get a very light sentence."

She nodded. "I understand."

"How are you going to feel if you don't cooperate, and he goes free, and does this again, to someone else's young daughter," he asked her pointedly.

"I guess that is a chance I am willing to take, because I believe in him," Sheken answered softly.


Marcus sat quietly at the table. Beside him sat a rather unkempt man in a wrinkled suit. He smelled of cough syrup and mothballs. Across the table, the prosecutor was nodding glumly.

"Thank you, Mr. Phister." He reached his hand towards the attorney with a barely perceptible grimace.

The man nodded with a Cheshire cat grin on his lean, angular face. "Pleasure doin' business with ya."

His attorney shook his hand, and silently walked out of the room. Marcus remained in the chair as the deputy returned to lead him away by his shackled wrists. "You got off very lightly considering what you did," the prosecutor said, his voice barely a whisper.

Marcus closed his eyes and let those words weigh heavily upon his mind. In flashes of memory the events of the past few weeks came rushing back to him and the guilt they invoked rose up to suffocate him.

He blinked hard to stem the tears that were threatening to burst forth like an overflowing dam. His voice was quiet and even as he dropped his eyes and replied, "I didn't ask for an attorney. You insisted that I accept the services of that court-appointed buffoon." He paused as he met the prosecutors gaze and tried to ascertain whether the man's comment was intended as a mere declaration of fact or a thinly veiled indictment of his character. "And I never once asked for any leniency."

The prosecutor moved in close and lowered his voice even further so that Marcus had to strain to hear his words. "We didn't have much choice. Had we let you represent yourself, we risked the judge questioning your competency to make such a decision. We had nothing to go on. Your victim was most uncooperative."

Marcus sighed. Part of him was glad that he would only be a very temporary guest of the fine folks at Paragon City's resident detention facility. Six months wasn't such along time. Another part of him was hoping for something more. He needed some measure of expiation of the massive burden of guilt that weighed on him like a giant boulder. It was a foreign and painful sensation that was obviously a product of the newfound emotions that Sheken had awakened within him.

"You know..." the prosecutor began, hesitantly, as the deputy led Marcus to the door, "I sincerely hope she's right. I hope you really have had a change of heart."

Marcus turned and face him. He was met with a pallid smile and an expression of earnestness. He nodded silently as the deputy tugged at his arm and gently pushed him down the hall to the car that was waiting to take him to his temporary home.


The angel hovered silently unseen above the tall edifice she'd called home for so long. She looked down at her niece quietly reading as she sunbathed on the balcony. Her sister sat a few yards from the girl but kept one eye on her child as if she expected her to suddenly disappear.

Azazela shook her head gently to toss her silky blonde tresses in the gentle breeze. Out of the ashes of defeat rose a new strength. She pondered on the changes that were wrought by the events of the past weeks. Even though she'd been changed, she felt the same inside. What was so different? Had she really been the same being all along, just one who'd been recently pardoned for the sins of her forbearers?

But then again, she was different, she realized as she stretched her gently beating wings to hover above the streets of Talos Island. Nothing stayed the same. All of them were changed. In some ways they'd changed for the better and in other ways it was for the worse. In the end, they would all continue to fight the good fight, regardless of the adversities they weathered. That, she mused, was what truly made them the citizens of a City of Heroes....