The child always woke up with a smile. Even as her eyes fluttered open, her features already glowed as her lips curled upwards into a warm expression. Her mother looked down at her beloved offspring and smiled. “Good morning, Adara.”

“Good morning, mommy.” The girl sat up and pulled her fuzzy slippers over the feet of her pajamas. They were completely unnecessary over the reinforced feet of her sleepwear but mommy had her fuzzy slippers on, and that made them a required item. Donning her robe, she followed her mother down the hall into the kitchen that smelled suspiciously like pancakes.

Azazela padded quietly as she finished making breakfast. Zakai, Adara's older cousin, was sound asleep on the couch. He had spent the night at the apartment, studying and watching over the sleeping girl while her mother worked her night job in Warburg.

Azazela often took jobs there because it was classified as a free fire zone, and as such the pay was fantastic due to the extra level of hazardous duty. Cale Westmarch, her partner in many senses of the word, protested her presence in the treacherous zones known collectively as “the border isles”. These areas were on the outskirts of the Rogue Isles, which where home to the evil overlord Lord Recluse himself. Over the course of time they'd come to a rather tenuous agreement that she'd ignore his obsession with the scantily clad harlots known as the Carnival of Shadows and, in return, he would keep his disapproval of her chosen venue for working assignments to himself.

Most of the time they managed to keep this agreement. Last night, however, Cale had dropped by unexpectedly at a rather late hour. He found Zakai sitting at the kitchen table poring over his books. Adara had long since been tucked in and was sound asleep. He tried to suppress the worry that always left him with a soured feeling in the pit of his stomach when he discovered that Az was once again patrolling the fringes of the border isles. With a polite nod to Zakai, he made his way down the hall to the bedroom he and Az often shared. As he slipped out of his costume, he looked expectantly out the window for any sign of the huge red and white chopper that would be carrying her home.

He slid between the cool sheets and watched the clock. Even with his intimate personal knowledge of quantum physics, it baffled him how the passage of time could be slowed to a crawl merely by anxiously watching a clock.

It was nearing four in the morning when he heard the muffled sound of the helicopter's blades beating the air as it flew directly overhead. The landing pad was only a block away so he knew Az would be home shortly. He slid from the bed and pulled on the black terrycloth robe that was a present from her shortly before their child was born. It was trimmed in satin and embroidered with mystical sigils in shades of dark purple and gold. When he thanked her, she had merely blushed and muttered something about not wanting their baby to see him prancing about au naturale.

He put on a pot of tea and sat down at the table. Before the water could begin to boil, he heard the soft thud of her armor-clad boots on the rooftop, followed by her quiet footfall down the stairwell. As soon as he heard the hushed rasping of her key sliding into the first of many door locks, he quickly undid the remainder and opened the door.

A look of embarrassment, not unlike that which one might see on a child who had been caught with one hand in the cookie jar, burned warm across her soft cheeks.

“Cale,” she said quietly, “I was not expecting you this evening.”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” he whispered, trying to suppress the mildly irritated tone that was threatening to creep into his voice as he followed her to the kitchen. “The team of heroes I was assisting decided to abandon their task force assignment instead of finishing it.” He shook his head. “These young heroes just don't seem to have the fortitude of the older crowd. So, I decided to stop by and see you but... obviously you were busy elsewhere.”

If not for the tone of his voice accentuating the word “elsewhere”, his statement might have been interpreted as an innocent observation. Az lifted her chin and gave him an icy look. “Please, do not start,” she snapped.

“Start what? I was merely stating a fact. You weren't here when I arrived.” He shook his head and once again tried to suppress the urge to vent his growing frustration.

“Cale… I know what you meant.” She raised her voice slightly.

He sighed deeply. She looked exhausted in the glare of the lone small fluorescent light that shone over the sink, casting shadows around the otherwise darkened kitchen. In stony silence, he finished making the tea, and poured her a cup. He moved to stand behind her as she slouched over the kitchen table.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, I don't want to fight with you. I know you are tired, and I am tired, and we are probably both just overreacting…”

“I am NOT overreacting,” she interrupted in a frosty tone.

He started to open his mouth to reply when he caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see his daughter standing in the doorway.

“And what are you doing up at this hour, young lady?” he asked in a mock stern tone that was belied by the huge smile on his face.

“I thought I heard mommy yelling at someone and it woke me up,” Adara said softly.

Azazela's cheeks burned crimson as she lowered her voice to a soft, even tone. “I was not yelling, darling. I was merely discussing something with your father.”

The girl smiled up at her mother with a patronizing look that only the innocence of a child can properly execute. Her father had to stifle a sudden outburst of laughter that earned him a truly frigid glare from Azazela.

“Adara, baby, mommy wasn't yelling. She was just saying something important and wanted to make sure I heard her properly,” he said, shooting a disarming grin back at the perturbed demoness.

“And you, my darling, should be back in bed. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow and you need your sleep,” the weary mother said gently to her child as she gently tousled the girl's soft hair.

Cale nearly crumbled under the pleading gaze Adara shot him, but made no move to circumvent her mother's edict. “Off to bed, sweetie. Daddy will be here when you get up in the morning. I promise.”

The girl heaved a deep sigh as she turned towards the door. She shot one last pathetically pleading gaze in her father's direction to which he replied with a firm shake of his head. The textured bottoms of the feet in her pajamas made a soft sound as she slowly dragged each step to postpone the inevitable as long as she possibly could.

Cale turned to Az once they were alone. She was still slumped over the table, now with her head in her hands. He gently rubbed the back of her neck for a moment before planting a tender kiss on her nape. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. He had no real idea of the reasoning behind his invoking an apology, but he knew from experience that it would work more magic than the most powerful incantation he had ever used. He felt rather than heard her slowly allow all of her breath to exhale in a long, almost silent sigh.

“Let's go to bed,” he said gently.

“Just hold me?” she asked as she gave him a pleading gaze that made Adara's seem amateur by contrast.

“I know you are exhausted,” he murmured quietly. “Let's just get some sleep.”

He took her gently by the hand and led her down the hallway. She nearly fell onto the bed. He reached down and tugged first at one boot, then the other. She unfastened the clasps on her armor as he put the boots in her armoire. Before he could turn around, she had shed the armor and donned a long flannel gown. He kissed her softly before he gently urged her to lie back on the bed. He pulled the covers snug around her before climbing in beside her and switching off the bedside lamp. Her head had barely landed on the pillow before she began to snore softly. He chuckled to himself as he curled himself around her soft warmth to join her in a deep restful slumber.

Now it was morning and Cale was still sleeping soundly as Az slid silently from the bed and shuffled to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Once it was well under way, she had awakened Adara, who dogged her every footstep as she insisted on helping her mother with the morning routine.

As they made the final preparations, Azazela called to Zakai. “Wake up, sleepy head.”

His eyes glowed white for a moment, as he stirred awake. Adara knew better than to take it upon herself to awaken him, but now that someone else had, she was prepared to take full advantage of the situation. She fairly pounced on him as he sat rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Good morning, Aunt Az. Good morning, Miss Adara. I see you are wide awake already.”

Adara bounced excitedly next to him on the old sofa. “Mommy is taking me to enroll in school today!” she beamed. “I am going to be a student, just like you!”

Zakai laughed as he pulled the girl onto his lap and hugged her tight. “And I just know you are going to excel at your studies. You will love school.”

“Just like you!” she echoed, with a huge grin.

“Just like me,” he answered, laughing. “But,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “if we don't be quiet we will wake your father up. I think he is still sleeping.”

“He needs to wake up,” Az answered. “Adara, please go tell your father that breakfast is ready.”

She did not have to be told twice. She leapt from the couch and flew down the hallway, her feet barely touching the floor.

Zakai shook his head with a chuckle as he helped his aunt set the table. “She will be flying before you know it. She's very advanced for her age.”

Azazela nodded quietly. “Sometimes I can barely keep up with her.”

A few minutes later, a disheveled looking Warshade arrived at the table, being towed by the enthusiastic child. Azazela poured him a cup of tea and set the plate of pancakes in the center of the table. Adara dragged a chair nearly on top of her father. Her mother shot her a look of disapproval.

“Adara, your father needs a little room to breathe. You cannot have your breakfast sitting in his lap.”

“Of course she can,” he laughed, pushing his hair back out of his glowing blue eyes. He patted his lap. The girl needed no further encouragement as she leapt from her chair into his arms.

He smiled as Azazela shook her head with a sigh. She finished putting breakfast on the table and poured her daughter a tall glass of icy milk. Lifting it in both her tiny hands, the child took a huge draught, wiped her lips with the sleeve of her pajamas, and looked up into her father's eyes. “Daddy, are you going to the school with us?”

“Of course I am, sweetheart,” he answered between bites of pancake.

She cocked her head to one side and scowled. “What if they don't let me in?”

“Trust me, they will let you in. I know they will,” he answered, confidently.

Azazela looked at him curiously. Adara was a bit younger than they usually required children to be for admission, but she was very advanced for her age. The headmistress had suggested that Azazela bring the child along to be tested, and said they would base the decision to enroll her upon the results.

She returned to quiet contemplation as she fixed Adara's plate. She was not about to question him in front of their daughter. She would save her query until Adara was safely ensconced in the bathtub.

Zakai looked up from his plate to smile at Cale across the table. Cale found the boy slightly unnerving. The part of him that had once been Balregu held no lost love for the self-righteous hunters known as Peacebringers. Azazela herself had once held reservations about the strange being that shared the human shell that had been born as the first son of her sister. However, Zakai had grown up to become a wonderful young man who harbored no ill will towards the Warshade. The child was kind and intelligent, with a insatiable appetite for knowledge. He spent most of his time with his nose buried in either some scientific textbook, or an ancient mystical tome. Az was not sure how much of his personality was part of his human development, and how much was that of the alien being he hosted. Since Zakai had not yet taken his first breath when the fusion took place, that was a question even he might not be able to answer.

“Mr. Westmarch,” Zakai bowed his head slightly in respectful deference to the more experienced hero, “did you ever attend a university?”

Cale looked up at the boy with a hard swallow that almost caused him to choke on the piece of bacon he had been masticating. “No. My father was a world-class Necromancer. I studied the arcane arts at his hand.”

The boy nodded as his voice took on a tone of almost reverential awe. “How fortunate that must have been for you. It must have been wonderful being personally tutored by someone with so much knowledge.” He let out a wistful sigh. “While our professors are skilled, I would not presume to refer to any of them as 'world-class'. I recently came across an apocryphal book that was penned by what some people believe might be a pseudonym of Aleister Crowley. The book departs from the traditional types of magic that he was reputed to have practiced. In fact, so much so, that many authorities dismiss it as a fake. However, this book was rumored to have been written under the direct influence of Lam, an entity that he was known for summoning during his bizarre rituals. The interesting thing about this particular volume is that according to this, the manifestations of the Lam are invoked visitations of the Watchers, or the Fallen Ones.”

Cale nodded politely. The boy continued, “The really unusual thing is that the book details rituals that have never been documented before. They are said to be a gift to humankind to herald the Last Age.”

Azazela raised her head ever so slightly to look Zakai in the eye. “And as such, I do not recommend using them.” With a visible shudder, she stood and quietly left the room.

Zakai and Cale met each other with equally startled glances. “I wonder what got her panties in a bunch?” Cale whispered quietly.

The gentle Peacebringer shook his head. “I feel I must apologize for whatever I said that seems to have upset her.”

Adara, who had been blissfully munching on her pancakes, looked up with an enigmatic smile. “Don't you know? She does not want to see the end of this age. They stopped it once. This time things will not go so well for them.”

Threads of ice were coursing through his veins, as he gripped his child gently by the shoulders. In a voice that was probably more forceful than he meant it to be, he asked, “What did you just say, Adara?”

Suddenly the smile evaporated, leaving the child with a glazed expression. “I didn't say anything, daddy.”

A terrified look passed between the Warshade and Peacebringer. Totally unrelated to any inherent tensions between their opposing origins, they simultaneously felt a surge of bile leap into their throats.

Cale lifted the child from his lap, and gently sat her on her own chair. “Finish your breakfast, sweetheart. I'll be right back.”

Az was kneeling over the ancient claw-footed tub as she prepared Adara's bath water. She heard him come in and stood to face him. He struggled to find the proper way to relate the incident that just occurred at the table. “Cale, what is wrong?” she asked upon seeing his ashen countenance.

“Something… happened… a few minutes ago. In the kitchen…”

“What do you mean?” A tone of worry crept into her voice.

“I don't know how to explain it. It was Adara. One minute she was fine…and then…” He paused as his mind sought for some logical syntax to relate a totally illogical event. “It was almost as if something else took over her for a moment.”

Az nearly knocked him down as she flew through the narrow doorway and down the hall towards the kitchen. She grabbed Adara and lifted her into the air. She turned to Zakai and yelled, “Summon your mother.”

Zakai started to pull his cell phone from his pocket, catching himself at the last moment. Closing his eyes, he focused his energies towards his mother's highly tuned psyche. One message. Come now!

Fifteen long minutes later the family was sitting in a circle in the living room of the small flat. Dawl explained that her mother reassured her that the incident had been what is called a 'projection'. Some entity had used Adara as a channel. As creepy as it might sound, no real harm had been done. It was a simple trick that demons often used to relay messages into the human realms without actually having to manifest themselves personally. Adara was used because as a child she had no real defenses in place to prevent this channeling.

“That,” Dawl said softly, “is about to change. It is time.”

Cale looked at her with an uneasy glance. It was very seldom that Dawl could be taken seriously. When she became gravely somber, it meant that the situation were dire enough to warrant such attention. This could not possibly be a portent of anything but evil.

Adara sat on her mother's lap as Azazela gripped her tightly. Cale sat beside them, idly stroking his daughter's baby fine hair out of her face as she looked up at him with an expression of pure worship and adoration.

A rumbling peal of thunder shook the tenement as Dawl produced a small, very ornate lockbox. The sigils engraved on its surface were obvious to any arcane practitioner. The box was protected from being opened by anyone but the owner.

She pressed the words do ut facias silently into the mind of the child. Though Adara had no understanding of the meaning, she held out her open hands. The parcel levitated and began to spin slowly above her outstretched palm. The top bisected along a scalloped edge in its pattern and lifted open to reveal a magenta glow.

The child's eyes opened wide as she peered into the utter blackness of the box at the glowing gem suspended in its center.

“The amulet,” Az whispered, breathlessly.

Cale turned to her. “What amulet?”

“This stone was a gift to DeLara, err, Dawl from her mother. Her mother is human, but is one who is gifted of the Creator. She remains Ageless and has the Second Sight. The amulet contains mystical powers of protection and also traces of the Second Sight. It was at one time split in two. Dawl had half, and she gave half to me. The power of protection is so strong within this gem that it can be used to free those who are mystically bound. The minions of our father sought to use this in order to free him so that he might once again take the reins of his legions in order to vanquish the humans and the Host of the Creator.”

“So, someone found some really strong Super Glue, I take it?” the Warshade said with a slight edge of sarcasm.

Azazela shook her head. “The stones were fused by the Dark One himself. He was very close to having freed our father, at that time. The results would have been…” she paused as her gaze dropped to the floor, “cataclysmic.”

Dawl fell strangely silent as she remembered that dark day that now seemed like it had been so long ago.

“So now our child has this magic bauble. What is the point?” he asked her.

“It has the power to protect her,” Az said in a sober tone. “And I have a very strong feeling that she is going to need it.”

Cale looked down at the precocious child sitting in her mother's lap. She held the gem as though it were something very delicate as she gazed upon it in unabashed awe.

Azazela left the room quietly and returned moments later with a small buckle that resembled an empty frame. Silently she handed it to her child, who gingerly touched the stone against it. With a crackle of energy and a bright glow, the stone fused itself into the metal housing. “Now, we must find you a suitable belt,” her mother smiled.

Dawl suddenly jerked her head up from where she knelt on the floor to look at Cale. “Mary called me first thing this morning to make sure we hadn't forgotten about today.”

Cale's face went pale as he stole a glance at Az. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she looked from her partner, to her sister, and back again. “Mary?” she asked in a suspicious tone.

Dawl smiled sheepishly. “Well…” she turned to Cale. “You didn't tell her, did you?”

Cale's face burned crimson. “Umm. Not yet. I meant to, I really did.”

Azazela's eyes narrowed as she pinned him with a glare. “What is it that you failed to tell me?”

He felt like an insect must feel when pinned down by its wings under a microscope.

”It was me.” Dawl gave her sister a pleading gaze. “Please don't be upset with him. I wanted to make sure Adara was accepted into the academy, so I pulled a few strings with my friends in the Cabal, who are actually the ones who truly run the place.”

Az rolled her eyes.

“Don't be mad, Az. I just wanted to make sure there were no snags getting her in. I know how important this is to you, and to Cale. I only want the best for my little niece.”

Azazela drew a long, slow breath and shook her head slowly. “It does not matter.”

Adara looked up at her mother. “Who is Mary, mommy?”

“Never you mind, my daughter. You shall meet her soon enough.”

“She's a friend of mine,” Dawl interjected. “You will like her, and I am sure she will love you.”

She stood and reached out to Adara, taking the girl in her arms. “Come with Aunt Dawl, and let's leave Mommy and Daddy to get ready to travel to Salamanca.” She carried the smiling girl down the hallway to the door. “Let's go over to the sand lot and practice taking off and landing,” she grinned.

“Yay! I get FLY!” Adara screamed.

“Hover,” Dawl corrected. “You have to learn to get airborne and stay airborne before we work on actually flying around, okay?” She turned to Zakai. “Come on, baby. You can come along with us and hover behind her to keep an eye on her.”

The gentle Peacebringer smiled and nodded as he followed them out into the bright sunshine.

Az turned to Cale. Before she could say anything, he spoke up, “Dawl told me about this a couple of weeks ago. I didn't want you to get the idea that we thought Adara couldn't make it on her own. I know she will do fine. But you know Dawl…”

Az sighed. “Yes, I do. And I am sure that she, as always, means well.”

“And hey, a little insurance never hurts,” he added slowly. “I was actually a bit worried that the classes might have filled up. At least now we know Adara is guaranteed admission.”

“This is quite true.” She nodded and reached out to put her arms around him. “I am glad you suggested we send Adara to Salamanca, rather than simply enroll her in the local Paragon City public school. I must admit,” she hesitated, “that even though I am convinced the school is far superior, it will still be difficult for me to let her go.”

He smiled as he gently pulled her close. “We can visit her. It isn't that far. And Az, she will be home every weekend. You'll be alright.”

“I know, darling. I am just not accustomed to being by myself, these days.” She looked out the window. Adara was the center of her existence since the moment she'd been born. She filled that huge, empty ache that had haunted Az for years. That ache that was no doubt a consequence of the tragic events surrounding a previous childbirth. She shuddered as she tried to shake off the thoughts of her accursed firstborn.

Cale stroked her hair softly as her troubled emotions passed like ripples across her countenance. “What's on your mind, love?” he asked gently.

“Nothing, really.” She shook her head and replied in her soft voice. Her thoughts turned back to the day Adara was born. A wistful smile played across her lips.

“It is time.”

“Time for what?” Cale asked, looking down at her as he muted the television. He had been watching the evening news at they sat together on the sofa in his apartment. She'd fallen asleep with her head laid in his lap, her long legs hanging well off the end of the couch.

She sat up slowly and rubbed her swollen belly. “It is time,” she repeated, firmly as her eyes met his.

“TIME? Oh, THAT time! Are you in labor?” he stammered as he leapt from the couch.

She smiled and nodded. “There is no need to panic. This is only the beginning.” Her voice was soft and unusually calm.

“I am NOT panicking. But we need to get ready,” he said frantically. “Do you want me to call your sister?”

Azazela shook her head with a smile. “She is on her way. Trust me on this.”

A soft knock on the door just moments after the words had left her lips served to confirm the veracity of her statement. The empathic bond between the two demonesses never ceased to amaze him. He often wondered if her older sister could tell when he was pleasuring her younger sibling. It made his cheeks flush crimson just to think of it.

“Hi, DC, err, Cale,” Dawl giggled as she pushed past him to rush to her sister's side.

“Are we going to do this here?” she asked, looking up at Cale.

He shrugged. “Shouldn't we go to the hospital?” He met Az's gaze with a look of worry.

“A hospital full of strangers is not a comfortable place to give birth,” Az answered him. “I do not believe there is anything they can do for us that Dawl cannot do better.” She smiled at her tiny sister.

“Well, there is more room at my house,” Dawl suggested. “Your big canopy bed is still in your old room.”

Cale met Az's gaze. “It might be more comfortable there,” he suggested gently.

She nodded. “As you wish.”

Dawl smiled. “Anything you want to bring?”

Az shook her head. “All I need is right here,” she said, gently patting her distended belly. As if to accentuate her statement, the little one within her kicked her hand hard enough to cause it to move.

Dawl laughed gently. “She's telling you that she's ready!”

Half an hour later, Cale was sitting beside Azazela under the massive canopy as she fisted the velvet bedcover and arched her back as the first of the hardest pangs overtook her. Dawl stood on the other side of the bed as she tenderly sponged her sister's sweat-drenched forehead with a damp cloth.

There were no words to describe the kaleidoscope of emotions that was coursing through his being. The part of him that had been Cale Westmarch was experiencing the normal anxiety that is so common to human males when they witness the birth of their firstborn child. The part of him that had been Balregu was experiencing trepidation at the entire messy concept of human childbirth. On some level a fear of what might go wrong washed over the entire surface of his multifaceted consciousness.

The current pain passed, and a panting Azazela sat up against the mahogany headboard. She closed her eyes for a moment.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“I will be fine,” she said breathlessly. “It is almost over.” A demonic howl shattered the quiet in the room as the next pain suddenly overtook her.

He wasn't sure why Az had assessed the hardest hour of the entire ordeal as 'almost over' but he was relieved when Dawl finally held up the tiny infant and presented her to him. Tears of joy filled his eyes as he looked upon the tiny face of their daughter for the first time. Azazela laid very still, exhausted from the extraordinary effort it had taken to bring this new life into the world. Dawl smiled at the proud parents as they cuddled the tiny porcelain creature that was their brand new child.

“We shall call her Adara,” Azazela said.

“Adara Westmarch, I like the sound of that,” Dawl said with a smile.

Az positively glowed as she pulled open the front of the soft birthing gown that Dawl had wrapped her in. It was obvious that Dawl had planned all along for the blessed event to take place in this room, she thought with a smile. From the fresh flowers on the dresser to the soft towels on the nightstand, everything had carefully been prepared ahead of time.

The tiny infant fussed quietly as she searched for the comfort of her mother's breast. Az guided her gently and nestled her tenderly as the baby's instincts did the rest.

She smiled up at Cale with a look of happiness and contentment. He returned her smile with a soft kiss to her forehead, and wide grin.

Cale broke her quiet reverie with a soft laugh that brought her back to the present. “I seem to remember the last time I asked you what was on your mind and you said it was 'nothing, really'.”

She blushed as the memories of the first night they'd been intimate together came rushing to mind. The fact that she'd been desperate enough to come right out and ask him to help her conceive a child was still a cause of great embarrassment for her. She shot him a sidelong glance.

He was evidently thinking of that same night as he held her tightly to him and ran his fingers lightly down the hollow of the small of her back. “Not now,” she whispered huskily, glancing furtively towards the door. “What if Dawl comes back with the children?”

He rolled his eyes. “Then they will find the bedroom door closed. Dawl will snicker, Zakai will blush, and Adara will remain blissfully, innocently unaware.”

Part of her was tempted to give in, but she still needed to shower and make herself presentable for their trip to Salamanca. “We do not have time,” she said, flatly.

Just as he was about to present her with a rebuttal, they heard the sound of an opening door and running feet.

“Adara lost her concentration when some Vahzilok zombies ran out from behind a shipping container, and fell to the ground,” Dawl explained. “Zakai took care of the zombies, but she skinned her knees pretty bad. I wanted to heal her, but she insisted that mommy do it.”

Az looked down at her daughter's swollen eyes that were still wet with unshed tears. She kissed her tenderly on the forehead as she bathed her in healing energy. Picking her up, she balanced the girl on one hip. “You know,” she said, slowly, “I will not always be around to heal your wounds. Soon you must learn to depend on others.”

Adara gave her a horrified look. “You will always be around, mommy.”

“Honey,” Cale interjected, “what mommy means is that you are going to start school soon. We won't be able to stay there with you.”

The child's eyes flew wide open. “No! I don't want to go.” She squirmed from her mother's grasp and dropped to the floor in a despondent pose.

Az shot a helpless glance at Cale and then looked back at Adara. In the end, it was Zakai who came to their rescue.

He knelt beside Adara and took her hands in his. Looking her in her teary eyes, he spoke softly. “Adara, you are growing up into an intelligent young lady. You must go to school in order to develop your potential. I go to school almost every day and I can tell you that it is a wonderful experience.”

The flow of tears stopped instantly as they could all nearly see the wheels of thought turning in the child's mind.

“You will love going to school. You will get to have many books and make many friends there.”

She smiled. “I want to be like you and go to school, Zakai. But don't you miss your mommy and daddy?”

“Of course I do,” he said with a gentle laugh. “But I know my mother and father want me to learn as much as I can. And they are always nearby if I need them.”

She pursed her lips as if she were giving the matter intense consideration. Then with a mood swing that could only be executed by a preschooler or a schizophrenic, she threw her arms around his neck. “My knee is all better,” she squealed. “Take me back to the sand lot so we can fly some more, please?”

“Hover,” he said gently.

“Hover!” she yelled with a grin as she went tearing down the hall towards the door. Dawl turned to Az with a shrug of her shoulders and followed them.

Turning to Cale with a lump in her throat, Az mumbled “This is not going to be easy on any of us.”

He took her by the hand and led her towards her bedroom. This time any protest she might have voiced was lost beneath an intense urge to let him comfort her.

A few hours later, Zakai had excused himself as he had an evening class. Az had showered and dressed in a maroon suit. She bathed Adara and adorned her in a deep green ankle length dress of soft velvet trimmed in chiffon and lace. Despite a few mild protests, she braided the child's blonde locks into a small crown and pinned the end with a tiny clip made of blue and green crystal fragments. Cale had shed his normal costume in favor of the traditional garb of an Archmage as it seemed more appropriate.

Dawl returned home to change into a rather modest outfit, by her standards. She met the trio at the Talos train station for the ride to the area most knew simply as Croatoa. The trip had proved rather slow and uneventful, aside from Adara fidgeting impatiently during most of it. Azazela breathed a deep sigh of relief when the train finally pulled into the station in the sleepy little burg of Salamanca. Dusk was just beginning to fall as the family walked along the cobblestone street towards the university plaza. Cale carried Adara, who clung to his neck as she gazed wide-eyed at some of the mystical inhabitants of the small town. She instinctively knew that none dare approach her in the company of three well-experienced heroes. Nonetheless, she held on to her father as though her very life depended on it as she warily eyed the strange creatures.

They followed Dawl to a small building older building near the campus at the very edge of the town. She rapped quietly on the door and it was immediately opened by a dignified older woman wearing the familiar garb of the Cabal.

“Greetings to you, DeLara,” the woman said. “Please, enter.”

She motioned with her hand towards a door at the end of the dimly lit hallway. They entered the small parlor where she bade them sit on the chairs that were arranged in a small half circle.

The woman pulled the ancient carved mahogany pocket doors closed with a grating rasp, and locked them with a skeleton key. She turned to them and gave them a thin smile. “I,” she said in a solemn tone, “am Mary Macomber. I am the leader of the group of sorceresses known as the Cabal. We have an outstanding program in arcane studies here, which we quietly oversee for the local branch of the Paragon City University. We are rather particular when accepting new students. Let it suffice to say that I do not take those who wear the label of 'hero' at face value. The title does not impress me. What does impress me,” she paused as she turned and faced the child directly, “is a willingness to learn.”

Adara looked up at the woman with a mixture of fear and admiration.

“Let us see what you are capable of, my dear,” Mary said as she motioned the girl to stand and approach her. Waving her hands and muttering a few guttural syllables into the dry air, she summoned a ghostly apparition. Adara took a step back.

“It can do you no real harm, my child. Show me how you might deal with it as if it posed a threat.”

Adara cocked her head to one side, assessing the level of danger. Raising her small fist, she used her demonic power to drain strength from the spectre and add it to her own. Taking a step back, she channeled a burst of cold, negative energy. The first flare of dark power missed, but she instantly widened her stance and fired a second shot which struck the apparition dead on. As it tried to dodge her assault she manipulated the kinetic forces surrounding it, slowing its movement while accelerating her own.

The wizened elder woman exchanged a knowing smile with the child's mother. “Demonic, she is. But pure in thought and deed. Why then does she command the energies of darkness?”

Azazela bowed her head politely as she spoke, “Her father is a Warshade. The dark quantum energies he exposed the both of us to while the child was yet unborn caused her to emerge with this inherent control over negative energy.”

Mary turned to Cale and smiled. “Interesting. This may prove a subject worthy of further investigation, sir. It is my understanding that before you were joined to the Nictus, you were, yourself, an Archmage?”

He nodded as he shifted in his chair. The subject of his former title was still somewhat painful for him as he had not willingly given up the ways of the arcane. He still harbored some sense of resentment towards Balregu for so rudely ending his career just as it seemed to reach a pinnacle of success.

“Though you no longer have the unrestricted access to your magics, the knowledge is still within you. I expect you to impart to your child all that you can in order to help her develop her potential. Your choice to have a child with a demonic being who bears an inherent supernatural power was a wise one. This child will benefit not only from the knowledge of the arcane arts, but will be able to magnify her knowledge with raw power that is part of her supernatural heritage.”

Cale swallowed hard, not wanting to go into the small detail that the mating had not necessarily been his idea. He shot a look towards Azazela who was blushing furiously and intently studying the intricate pattern in the well-worn ancient rug.

The woman's voice softened, taking on an almost grandmotherly tone as she dismissed the ghostly image she'd summoned. “Miss Adara Westmarch, you are accepted into the ranks of our small academy. I will expect you to do your very best as you complete your studies here.”

“Yes'm,” Adara answered meekly as she smiled at the elder sorceress.

“Now,” Mary said, smiling at Dawl, “we shall all have a lovely cup of my favorite brew. It is a mixture of exotic teas, rich spices, with just a sprinkle of enchanted powder mixed in. It is guaranteed to cure all that may ail you.”

Dawl grinned and stood to shake Mary's hand. “Thank you, Mary.”

“No need for thanks, DeLara,” Mary answered, her tone turning sober. “You impressed me long ago with your skill and your caring spirit. I do not take such things lightly. How is young Zakai? And little Sheken?”

“Zakai does well. I can't keep him away from the books. Sheken, on the other hand…” Dawl sighed deeply. “Well, let us just say that she is reaching a difficult, rebellious age. She isn't so little any more.”

“Ah, I understand,” Mary said knowingly with a wink. “She's discovered the other gender, I take it.”

Dawl made a dour face. “That is putting it mildly. She doesn't have the love of learning that Zakai has. She only wants to seek fun and pleasure. I blame myself in part for this.”

Mary laughed. “I am sure she will outgrow this phase and develop into a fine young lady.”

Dawl embraced Mary in a warm hug, thanking her again. Azazela and Cale rose from there seats. Adara approached her mother and clung to her leg. “Mommy, do I have to stay here now?”

Az looked questioningly at Mary. “Not yet,” the woman answered. “Classes are not in session at this time. They will being again next week, upon the rise of the full moon. You will report back here an hour before moonrise. At that time you will be given all you need to begin your studies.”

“Thank you,” Azazela said softly as she shook the elder woman's hand.

Mary shuddered involuntarily. “It be as though a ghost passed over my grave,” she whispered urgently to the statuesque blonde. “Azazela, I must need speak with you before you leave. My girls will see to the needs of the others.” Turning, she withdrew the skeleton key and unlocked the massive doors, pushing them open. She clapped her hands and two young Adepts appeared bearing trays filled with steaming mugs of Mary's infamous elixir. “Excuse us, please,” Mary addressed the others as she took Azazela's hand. “I have a few details I must discuss with the child's mother.”

Azazela followed her out the back door and down a small path that led to a quiet glen in the dense woods.

“I dare not say this in front of your family,” Mary intoned in a hushed voice. “As I took your hand, I had a vision of your not too distant future. I cannot tell you all that will happen but I foresee a terribly bad omen approaching. But there is light, a great light, following it closely, at the space of three very dark days.”

Azazela looked into her eyes and saw years of power and experience. Her empathic senses told her that the woman bore her no ill will. She was merely speaking the truth.

“Thank you for being forthright with me in this matter, and thank you for sparing my family from this information.”

“May it be that all will end well for you. Your service to those of humanity will not go unrewarded.”

With that, the woman turned and walked briskly back the path, leaving the demoness to follow her with as she considered these things that had been revealed.

Cale gave her an odd look as she followed the sorceress back into the cozy parlor. Her slight shiver was not a product of the damp cool of the forest. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.

Az nodded with a twinge of guilt. She hated feeling like she was being deceitful.

The brew was indeed warm and delicious. Az felt much more calm after a few sips. Adara crawled up into her father's lap and within a few minutes was sleeping soundly. Mary and Dawl chatted about times past as old friends do. Finally it was time to leave and they bade goodbye to the ladies of the Cabal. Azazela took the sleeping Adara from her father's arms and held her close as they retraced their former steps down the darkened street. In addition to the soft glow of the occasional street lamps, a few oddly placed trees seemed to burn with a mystical fire, indicating that things were not always what they seemed in this place.

As they boarded the train, she leaned close to Cale and instinctively took his hand in her own. He looked up at her with a smile. “Tired?” She merely nodded in answer.

“I am tired, too,” he said quietly. “It's been a long day. What do you say to tucking the little one in and going to bed early ourselves?” He gave her a wry smile. “Err, going to sleep early.”

She smiled down at him and nodded. Suddenly she felt very drained. “Thank you for suggesting that we enroll Adara in this school. I feel we have made the best choice.”

He smiled. “I only want what's best for our child.”

As the train pulled into the station at Talos, Az turned to Dawl. “We are going to use the telepad in the base to return to Kings Row. Thank you for your help in this matter.”

Dawl blushed. “It was nothing. Really.” She kissed the sleeping child gently on her forehead. “See you in the morning?”

“Perhaps,” Az murmured. “I was considering taking tonight and tomorrow off and just spending some time with Adara, before she must go away to school.” Her eyes began to mist up at the thought. Cale squeezed her hand gently.

“I think that's a great idea. Perhaps we can take her to Perez Park for a picnic,” he said.

Entering the base, he followed Az to the telepad that would transport them nearly to the front door of her building in Kings Row. Within minutes, they were inside the small flat. Adara fussed sleepily as her mother pulled off the dress in a rustle of chiffon and lace. Once she was bundled in her warm pajamas, and safely ensconced in her small bed, Azazela took Cale's hand and led him towards her bed and the promise of peaceful sleep.

The family slept soundly, blissfully unware of a malevolent force that was at that very moment making dire plans to destroy the peace that reigned over their existence…