Grabbing a tissue, Keshiema wiped the dried tears away from her puffy eyes. At times like this, she resented those who could forget their dreams. Although there were some dreams with foggy details, like the demise of her adoptive family, most of her dreams remained vividly clear. "I wish you were still here, Hiro," she mumbled.

  "Hiro? The Hunter?" Stolas asked from the other side of the room. He set down an old leatherbound book and crossed the room. "What brings him up? He hasn't been around for years."

  "Your High, um," she shook her head, "Alex... nothing... I just had a dream." She shifted to onyx. "Well, more of a memory," She spoke slowly as if trying not to let the words sting her on the way out. He looked at her curiously, but she gave him nothing else. She hardly shared her past with the few people she knew well. She was not about to tell a stranger anything, even if he was her brother. And the crown prince. who had possibly saved her life. 'stars, what kind of life am I living?!' She fell back onto her pillow.

  "The doctor said you should be good after a good night's rest. I'm going to get your discharge instructions. You get ready to go. I had..." he paused, trying to decide what word to use. "My sister...buy you some new clothes." He gestured to a set of neatly folded clothes sitting on a chair.

  "I'll get right on that," She rolled her eyes as he left the room. She figured he must have meant Princess Lilith, and wondered why he had said it so carefully. Everyone knew about Princess Lilith. 'Whatever.' She looked at her I.V. and scoffed. No way was she going to pull that out herself just to get dressed and have to wait for another couple of hours. Knowing full well how long the discharge process took, even for nobility, she laid back down.

  ***

  The full moon's light shone down into a familiar forest clearing, beautifully scattered by the twisting branches of a giant oak tree. The winds stilled, creating an eerie ambiance. Golden fireflies danced above the soft green grass. For the first time in years, a vague sense of companionship lifted her spirits. 'Too bad this is only a dream.'

  A dark, silky voice came from behind her, "You know, it doesn't have to be just a dream."

  "Who's there?" She already knew the answer. The dark voice laughed. As she spun around to face Damien's haunting gaze, the clearing faded away.

  ***

  She woke up flinching as the nurse pulled out the I.V., but the wound healed as soon as the line left her skin, proving her aura had had enough time to regenerate. "She's free to go once she's ready, my Prince." After bowing deeply, the nurse left the room.

  Stolas placed a cool hand on her forehead, still not fully trusting the nurses. It was comforting, but did little to hinder the dizziness and disorientation of waking from a dream. "You're feeling ok, right? If you need to stay another day, I can arrange it."

  "I'm alright. My aura is back, so there really isn't anything they can do for me that I can't do myself."

  His eyes softened when he smiled at her. "Alright," he looked defeated, and she wondered how much sleep he had gotten. You get dressed, "I'll have the carriage pulled around."

  Picking up the black bundle on top, she gasped. "Ah! How is this so soft?" She held the shirt to her cheek. The lightweight fabric felt like a pile of down feathers. Setting it down, she took the pants. The fabric resembled a lighter, softer version of Kevara. She sighed with relief when she found a brand new set of undergarments folded within the pants. The disposable cotton ones the hospital provided were barely a step up from gauze. Slipping into the clothes, she was surprised at how well they fit her, hugging her small curves in just the right places. The outfit was alluring without sacrificing modesty.

  A horse-drawn carriage waited for them at the front doors. Keshiema gazed at the large full moon in awe. "She's so beautiful, isn't she?" she asked.

  "Who?" Stolas followed her gaze as his driver opened the door.

  "The moon. She's so elegant. Bright and beautiful, without the harsh burning of the sun."

  "I guess so." He gently guided Keshiema into the carriage, cautioning her to watch her step. An awkward silence filled the carriage on the short ride to the dorms. She fidgeted nervously, trying to think of anything except being in a carriage. The wheels rumbled loudly, invading her thoughts. The leaf springs creaked with every slight dip in the old asphalt. She leaned her head against the glass and chewed on her cheek, breaking the skin. Closing her eyes, she focused on the pain as the injury healed itself. Then, she would bite it again.

  When the coach slowed to a stop, Stolas helped her out. Firmly grasping his hand, she stepped down from the tall carriage. She ambled towards the dormitory doors, giving Stolas enough time to thank the driver. Her body relaxed as the horses pulled away. "What happens now?"

  "What do you mean?" They walked side-by-side through the abandoned lobby.

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  "About…” She motioned from him to herself and back to him again. “Who all knows?" They stepped into the elevator - a privilege only afforded to the highest nobles

  "The Elders and Uvall. We never saw a reason to tell anyone else. You were safe, and that was all that mattered to me."

  "So?" she looked at him expectantly. "What changed? There were two attempts on my life in one day."

  "Well. One attempt was yesterday." He fidgeted nervously as the elevator slowly climbed to the top floor. "The other was about three days before." Her hair was its normal electric blue, hiding all emotions underneath a calm fa?ade. "I think it's time you met the Elders, Keshiema." She stared at her newfound brother in confusion. "They haven't told me yet, but they seem to know something. Besides, you're the only Hell-Child to attend their Academy."

  "Hell-Child?" She thought she heard it before, whispered among the halls.

  "It's an ancient term for a half-human, half-demon. Your father sought after something he could not keep. Though I do believe our mother loved him, they were from two different worlds. Even if she could have stayed with him, he would have died long ago."

  "When I asked the police why my real parents didn't want me, I was told they were dead."

  He knew the ache she felt too well. "Not exactly. You'll meet our mother soon enough. She wants to see you." The elevator dinged. "For now, I think you need to sleep. I will have guards waiting outside your room tonight. Nothing will get to you again, I promise."

  They walked in silence through the hallways. When they arrived at her dorm, she shuffled through her pockets looking for the key before remembering she was wearing brand new clothes. "no, no, no...my key..."

  "Oh! sorry, here." Stolas pulled the key from his jacket and handed it to her. Her hair flashed gold for a brief moment, changing back to blue before she unlocked the door. Stolas stifled a laugh at the thought of such simplistic joy.

  "Goodnight, um," she hesitated, worried about offending him. "Goodnight, Alex."

  Stolas set his hand on her shoulder. "Dematkia, Keshiema. Miskia almesa."

  "Rest Peacefully." The demon language sounded beautiful, but she always felt awkward using it when not healing.

  As Stolas turned around and started to walk away, Keshiema grabbed his arm. He turned around to see tears forming in her sparkling, smoky eyes. Gray highlights riddled her black hair. "Things will be fine. I already told you, you're going to be safe."

  "It's not me I'm worried about!" her strained voice grieved him. "Every time I start to care about someone," She choked, unable to finish the thought.

  "Keshiema, I am the heir to the throne, and I'm a few thousand years old. I've got a bit of practice surviving dangerous situations." His words comforted her well enough. Her hair and eyes shifted back. He patted her head. "Now, off to bed with you." Stepping back into the hallway, he closed the door softly.

  ***

  Again, Keshiema found herself in the large forest clearing. The full moon shone down, straight overhead now, lighting up the world around her. A gentle easterly breeze cooled the hot summer air. Poorwills and mockingbirds sang in the trees, and the fireflies joined in with their melodic chirping. A creek babbled softly near the western edge of the glade. Luscious green grass formed a plush carpet, cushioning her sensitive feet. A large oak tree towered over her from the Northern edge. A small fire smoldered near the Southern edge, with a warm, welcoming glow.

  A familiar presence filled the clearing. Keshiema spun around, knowing in her heart who stood behind her. Damien smiled briefly when their gazes met, softening and warming his usually cold, intimidating eyes. The smile swiftly vanished. He fell to his knees as shackles appeared on his wrists and ankles. Broken chains hung from the shackles, and his wings were disheveled. Bruises, burns, and deep cuts covered him, and dried blood clung to his matted hair.

  Keshiema kneeled in front of him and took his face in her hands. "What happened?"

  "It's nothing to worry about, I'll be fine." He rose to his feet, and the shackles disappeared, his injuries vanishing with them. He shook his wings, and the feathers smoothed and settled back into place. Pulling Keshiema to him, he spun her around in his arms, his majestic wings spread wide. His smile returned, and the hostility emanating from him vanished instantly. Setting her back on her feet, he took one of her hands and placed one of his on the small of her back. He held her close, elegantly swirling around the clearing.

  Something snapped, a lock under pressure, releasing memories long since forgotten. The faint memories rose to the surface, and the silhouette that always gave her headaches finally came into focus. "It was you," she whispered, remembering the night the mist took her family. "Stop." He stopped moving, but hesitated to let her go. She pulled away, leaving an icy space between them. She looked into his eyes, trying to figure out how to word her question. All she could manage was a tear-filled "Why?" she barely managed to choke out.

  "I had to protect you. I know you wanted your sisters protected too, but it wasn't possible. Not without more Guardians there to protect them."

  "But you didn't even try!" she shouted, falling to her knees. The nightmarish scene flooded her mind, more vividly than ever before. The hair coming out in clumps as the monster cried out, clutching its head in agony, its teeth falling to the floor as it screamed. The black mist swirling around it. The blood running from its eyes.

  "Keshiema! It would have been futile; I would have lost you!"

  "There's so much I don't understand, Damien!" Her tears flowed, heavy and unrelenting. The air was too thick, and she struggled to catch a full breath. The ever-present pang in her chest intensified, threatening to explode her heart.

  "Keshiema, please." Damien lifted her face gently as he spoke. "I will explain more later, I promise, but for now, you must forget about this conversation completely." He placed his palm on her forehead, covering her star.

  The action felt familiar, summoning a deep foreboding. "No!" she screamed as a searing pain riddled its way through her entire body.

  Translations

  Dematkia. Miskia almesa. = Goodnight. Rest peacefully.