She hit the floor with a hard thud. Her gaze ripped up to Feb's face, a meshed mask of fury and malice. She imagined all the horror movies she'd ever seen on advertisements on television and winced. Her mind took all of the male killers and stuck in Feb's face. At the moment, the looks seemed to match.

“What the hell were you doing in there? The Pyxis isn't a place for someone like you.”

Hadn't she already heard this somewhere before? Ara felt anger tear through her. “You mean someone who's human?” she demanded. “Someone with human blood in her veins. Lord forbid there be any creatures on Earth with that.” She stood with a snarl. “And just what blood runs through your veins?”

“Shut the hell up, bitch!” Feb lashed out at her, shoving her to the ground. Ara's patience, whatever there was of it, just plain snapped. She kicked up while still on the ground, remembering Baham's lessons. She quickly got up and moved back while Feb grabbed her right leg and howled.

Ara waited for Feb, unwilling to attack while the woman wasn't prepared. She had a feeling that would get her hip deep in trouble, but for now she was going to act honorably. Because Feb certainly wasn't.

Feb looked at her and growled. Ara was fairly certain that Feb had only gotten more angry. She double-checked her stance.

“You little bitch!” she screamed. “I'm gonna fucking kill-”

“You threaten her one more time and I'm returning you to the Council.”

Ara turned her gaze from Feb to the tired man behind her. She immediately recognized Saiph – and the aching look within his eyes. He was tired. Exhausted. And she knew in her heart that he'd been injured again in the last battle. She moved toward him.

Feb snapped around to look at him. “Don't you tell me what I can and can't say. She didn't belong in there. She could have killed us all. And just who taught her about the Reticulum? No one. She taught herself. The bitch has dug into our files!”

Saiph's gaze flicked to Ara before settling back to Feb's face. Ara felt oddly as if she'd been dismissed. She blamed it on her depression and waited to hear Saiph's reaction.

He was slow to speak, another sign of how tired he was. “Feb, you know the Laws. We cannot threaten a human.” He grimaced at the word, and Ara knew it was because he didn't want to say these things in front of her. He may give away information to her that she wasn't supposed to know. She almost walked away, more to spare herself than him, but she decided to stay. Let him say it in front of her. Let her hear. Let her learn. Let her understand, at least for a little while.

“She's hardly human. She's an insect.”

Ara flinched; she saw Saiph move in a blur. His hand snaked out to clutch Feb's throat in a tight grip. Feb gasped and grabbed Saiph's wrist, trying to shove him off. His arm was like iron. It wouldn't move. His eyes, usually calm, raged. “Never speak of her that way again.” He threw her to the ground.

Ara was shocked almost speechless by his actions. She had never seen Saiph be so violent before. It was as if something were possessing him. But still there was that clear, cool look, that I'm-in-control posture. It was nice to see him willing to stand up for her, but she couldn't imagine why. She refused to believe it was because he liked her. Cared for her, certainly. He apparently cared for all humans. That was all it was. She ignored the hurt that conclusion gave her. But to think differently and be proven incorrect... would hurt even more.

Saiph turned from Feb to her. “I heard about your help in the Pyxis. Thank you.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed and amazed. Shouldn't he be yelling at her? She was certain more yelling should be involved.

No time for that now, she told herself, and firmed her chin. “Are you all right? You're tired.” Maybe that was why he'd snapped at Feb. He was so exhausted he couldn't reign in his temper. Damn the thought for hurting her.

Saiph merely smiled. “I took only one hit.”

Last time she had checked, the quantity of hits wasn't as important as the quality. “Where? How deep?”

Feb snarled. Ara was shocked to realize that she hadn't even noticed that Feb was still in the hall. She had been too aware of Saiph and not enough aware of her surroundings. She was becoming careless.

Saiph slanted Feb a look that could strip oil out of water, then turned to her and smiled. “It wasn't bad,” was all he said.

“Compared to what,” she demanded, “a papercut or...” or what happened earlier, she concluded in her head, but couldn't say it out loud.

Saiph sighed then. “I took a dagger to my right shoulder.”

In her opinion: bad.

She struggled not to worry before she even knew how things had turned out. “May I ask... what happened?” She closed her mouth before something even more plaintive and pathetic came out of her mouth. She'd been on the battlefield, she thought. She had a right to know what had occurred. But... the thought of finding out and then losing her memory...

She completely ignored the pain that welled in her chest. Didn't even feel it.

She almost laughed at herself, right there in front of Saiph and Feb.

Saiph had caught the words, the tone. She knew he had because his eyes got sad; his small smile disappeared. “Yes,” he told her, his voice strong and yet... gentle. “Alya, Nihal, Hoedus II, and Altair all managed to get inside. The ensuing battle may have led to the entire collapse of the Argo if Nash hadn't-”

“Nash?” she interrupted, then stopped for a moment before continuing. “I don't remember seeing him in the Pyxis. Where was he? Is he all right?”

Saiph smiled at her concern, though the smile seemed... somewhat darker. “Nash is fine. He went to meet Alya when she entered the Argo.”

She sighed with relief, though thoughts whirled in her head – they didn't trust Feb, just as she didn't – Nash had apparently gotten rid of the enemy – she stopped right there. “Is Nash really that strong?”

Saiph sent a warning look to Feb before Ara realized that the woman had finally stood back up. Ara had forgotten that the woman was on the floor due to Saiph's attack... had almost forgotten her existence in the hall again. “Yes, Nash is strong,” Saiph hedged, “but he also had a handheld Sagitta.”

“Like the weapon Baham...?”

Saiph nodded. “Yes.”

They had those handheld? It was incredible enough to see those lasers shot out of the Argo – did they really have those things like the enemy did, with such immense destructive power? What... what were the two forces trying to do?

For one second, one small second, Ara wondered if she was with the right team. But then she thought about Saiph... and decided to not think about it at all.

“I... I saw Hoedus and Altair – Hoedus II and Altair -” she corrected, “leave, but I didn't see... Alya and Nihal.” She thought for a second. “And are the others all okay?”

Saiph suddenly laughed, a sound that shocked and awed Ara all at once. He shook his head. “Come with me to the cafeteria. I'll explain everything while we eat.”

She knew it was stupid to react so strongly to what he said – but she couldn't help but be both excited and terrified at the thought of eating alone with Saiph, even if it was merely to exchange battle information.

She forgot about Feb again the instant the woman huffed away.

<*>


She had never thought herself so awkward at eating before in her life.

“Ara?”

She looked up from her food, which she had been studying for a while, trying to find out exactly how to eat spaghetti without looking like an idiot, to see Saiph looking at her with concern. The look made her heart flutter. “Are you all right?” Saiph asked. “You aren't eating much.”

She gave him a quick grin. She thought it just might break her face. “No, I'm fine.” She proved it by saying the hell with it and twirling up a mass of the messy food. She quickly grabbed a napkin to clean up her face after she ate the bite.

Saiph sighed. “I would like to thank you again for your help in the Pyxis-”

“No,” she murmured, “I don't... need any thanks.” She set her fork down and didn't look into Saiph's eyes. This was... was... difficult. Was Saiph thanking her to try to smooth over what Regulus and Feb had said to her? Even if that wasn't the case... she didn't want his thanks. His gratitude. She didn't want to be thought of as the helpful guest. She wanted... “I only did what I could. I... wanted to be able to help.”

Saiph was silent for a long moment. Ara awkwardly twirled up another forkful of spaghetti and ate it, chewing more carefully than could ever be necessary.

The cafeteria wasn't silent, really – she knew Deneb was behind the small wall, cleaning up everyone else's plates. And, on the other side of the room, Baham sat, regally eating his spaghetti. A part of her envied his ability to each such food without getting any sauce on his face.

“Ara,” Saiph finally whispered, and his voice was low... awed. “We have given you nothing,” he began, but she hunched in on herself.

“No,” she argued. “You saved my life.” She would never forget the sacrifice Saiph had made... what she had had a hand in doing to him. Would never forget all that blood. “You gave me shelter. Clothes.” She shook her head. “Maybe... maybe I've been selfish to ask for more.”

Saiph gave a sharp intake of breath.

She hunched into herself a bit more. She didn't want to say it, didn't want to even think it. But... “you're all in the middle of some sort of war. I know at least that much. And I've been harping you all about wanting to know why... who you were, and who you're fighting. But... right now... it's not important. If it's ever important. What matters is that I've been getting in your way, bothering you when you need to be concentrating on other things entirely. I just... wanted... to apologize for that.” She kept her eyes lowered, unable to look at Saiph's face. Then she bowed her head. “I'm sorry.”

She heard no sound from Saiph and feared his reaction. It was certainly a switch from how she'd been acting, but... it was true. The battle that took place earlier that day had only made it incredibly clear to her. What she did, what she spoke of... everything she did placed those around her in danger. She distracted them. She couldn't afford to continue doing such a thing. If she truly cared for these people, for Nash and Deneb and Baham and... Saiph... then she had to stop. She had to...

A warm finger suddenly touched her chin. Her head was lifted to look into Saiph's eyes, close and cobalt. Somehow Saiph had managed to walk across the table to her side without her being aware of it. She wondered idly if she were that out of sorts.

“You humble me,” Saiph whispered. His breath whispered over her face, leaving her oddly breathless.

“What?” Oh, great response, Ara, she berated herself.

Saiph chuckled. “To be in your position and be able to say that. I don't know if I would be able.”

She blushed. “Of... of course you could. It's just... what's right. In the middle of a war...”

His eyes sobered. “A war you know nothing of,” he reminded her. Like she needed to be told that.

She sighed. She wasn't that virtuous; if he kept bringing that up, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from asking all the questions she had, anyway. “I trust you,” she said simply, and hoped that dissolved the matter. When it looked like he was just going to continue talking about it, she quickly added, “besides, you said you'd tell me what happened? Is everyone all right?”

Saiph seemed to know exactly what she was doing, but he just sighed himself and allowed her to change the subject. “Yes, everyone is all right. Deneb healed us all.”

She bit her lip. “Who all needed to be healed?” She looked at his right shoulder for the fifteenth time that hour, as if expecting to see blood mar his new shirt. Imagining a wound there made her flinch slightly. Why did his armor only cover part of him? Why was half of his body left vulnerable to attack?

More questions, she berated herself, and waited for Saiph's answer.

When it came, it made her tense. “Nash took three injuries – one to his left arm, one to his left calf, and one to his stomach.” She gasped in alarm, but was soothed when Saiph told her, “they weren't punctures. Deneb healed him, as well. Deneb took an injury to his left shoulder. Baham, of course, sustained zero damage and managed to berate me for not watching Alya 'just because I thought Nash had her.'” The quote sounded so like Baham that Ara had to smile despite her concern.

“So you took the worst injury again,” she said sadly.

Saiph shrugged. “I'm the leader. I should be in the thick of the fight.”

“Being the leader doesn't mean sticking your neck out trying to take all the damage yourself,” she argued, and saw in his eyes that she'd hit something on the head. “And it's an insult to the others. By doing it, you're saying that you don't think they can take care of themselves.”

Saiph opened his mouth to argue, then shut it and shook his head. “I know that,” he said finally. “But it won't stop me.”

She understood. His kind heart demanded that he do whatever he could to ensure no one got hurt. It was one of the many reasons why she loved him. Still, it was another reason for her to worry. She wondered how many that made it.

She worried about the repercussions of her asking a question that was nagging her – other than the obvious ones. Then she thought 'what the hell' and dove right in. “Would it be all right if I saw Nash?”

Saiph looked shocked. “What for?”

She hesitated, then bulldozed in, figuring if she was in for a penny... “I know you said he was healed, but... it's easier to believe it when you see it.” Like after he'd been... well, best not to bring that up. The images still haunted her nights enough as it was.

Saiph seemed to understand what she meant. “He's watching the prisoners right now.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Prisoners?”

Saiph realized that he'd failed to mention even that. “We captured Alya and Nihal. They're in magical barriers, but we don't want to take any chances.”

She bit her lip. “But they're enclosed, right? Why can't I see... oh. You're afraid they might tell me something.” She quickly hid the hurt the knowledge provoked.

Saiph didn't deny it, but he seemed to hesitate, anyway. “You realize you can't trust them, right?”

She frowned. “What?”

Saiph shared a look with her that was obviously an emphatic warning. “They are the enemy. They'll know that you are... a bystander.” She caught the hesitation in the sentence and wondered if he, too, was about to say she wasn't one of them. The thought made her bitter. “They'll try to take advantage of you.”

She wanted to say that the advantage wouldn't be as great if they couldn't bribe her with information she desperately wanted... but decided the words were best left unsaid. It sounded like he was going to let her see Nash if she agreed.

Still, she thought over his words, knowing the merit of them. Since she didn't know anything about these guys, and since she was suspicious as to why they would want to keep their identities a secret, it would be a simple matter for the enemy to persuade her into believing Saiph and the others were evil and not them.

How do I know that wouldn't be true? She shook the thought off, afraid of it.

“Yes,” she said finally. “I understand.”

He seemed to hear exactly how much she understood, because he hesitated again.

“I trust you,” she said simply, and saw him still. She had thought saying that would ease his mind. It was true. She could never truly love someone without trusting them, and she trusted Saiph completely. Saying she trusted him was bordering saying she loved him. Did he hear that? She hoped not. It would make things a thousand times more complicated.

He gave her a quick nod and glanced down at her plate. He quirked her a small grin. “I'll allow you to see him for a few minutes, but first you must promise to eat the rest of your meal.”

She stared again at her food, almost untouched. “All right,” she sighed, then picked at the noodles again. After a few minutes of eating within a disturbing silence, she spoke again. “Was Feb injured in the last battle?”

Saiph frowned. “No.”

Interesting, since she'd supposedly been the first on the scene, just like Nash. She doubted Nash would be so much of a gentleman as to not let Feb get hit. He seemed to like Feb about as much as Ara did. It made Ara wonder which side Feb was on. Was it safe to trust her? Not hardly. But was it fair to assume she was with the enemies, whoever they were? Not precisely. Best to just keep an eye on her.

When she finished her meal, she was led to the back area, where Baham had taken her to train. Saiph looked at the door to the training room and smiled. “I heard you'd started training with Baham.”

Dare she ask who told him that? “Yeah. I didn't want to be the useless, pathetic female like in the movies.”

He laughed again. “I never saw you that way,” he assured her. His words made goosebumps rise up her flesh.

She wished she knew exactly how he saw her.

She shrugged. “Well, you know the usual heroine in a movie? She always has to be saved by the hero. Apparently all the women are supposed to be weak, pathetic, frivolous things. And why are they always in dresses? Even if it's a modern movie, the woman's always in a dress. Why? Or, if it's anime, they're always in they're school uniforms – you know, short skirts and whatever. And then when they're out of uniform, they're still wearing short skirts. It 's like jeans don't exist.”

“And they always have to trip,” he pointed out, surprising a laugh from her.

She thought of her own tendency to trip and frowned. “Kind of like me.”

At first he must have thought she was joking, because he laughed. But then he didn't hear her join in and turned to her sharply. “You aren't useless or pathetic,” he told her firmly. She looked into those eyes and wished, with everything she was. If only she knew. If only she didn't care.

“Here we are.” Saiph stopped in front of a blank wall.

Thankful to not have to continue with the line of conversation, she quirked a brow. “Yup. So I see.”

His laughter was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard. “Watch.” He held out his hand. “Saiph and ally.”

And the wall opened up.

After the initial shock, Ara took a quick look around, memorizing the area. Then she turned back to the door. Saiph was watching her carefully. “Where'd that come from?” she asked. “Where's the mechanism? You had to have pressed a mechanism.”

He shook his head. “Nope. Maybe it was a miracle.”

She frowned at that. Miracle? “No, I don't think so,” she said breezily. “It was the same magic mechanism that lights the place.”

Now it was his turn to frown. “Magic mechanism?”

She shrugged. “I have yet to see a light bulb,” she pointed out. It was a reasonable observation, wasn't it?

His eyes lit in sudden understanding. “Ah.” But he didn't expand on it, only let her take the lead into the mysterious opening. “There are stairs,” he warned. She only nodded.

This place was a bit different. The lights weren't immediately on, and only lit when she was in the immediate area. Behind them the light turned itself back off. Like it was watching them. It was creepy.

Then, from below, she started to hear noises. Voices. A deep alto, a light tenor, and what she knew was Nash's voice. She started going faster.

“Hold on, Ara,” Saiph called softly. “You need to know - Nihal can create force fields. They aren't indestructible, but they are strong. Don't get stuck in one. Stay close to either one of us. Alya has no known powers, but be careful nonetheless.”

“Yes, Dad,” she teased. “I'll be sure to take care.”

Saiph merely sighed.

When they got down to the basement level, the voices were decipherable. She could recognize whose voice was whose easily enough. Alya was shouting at Nash that he wouldn't be able to hold them forever, that Alphard and the others would come. “We have a secret weapon,” she sneered. “And he'll destroy all of you-”

“Enough, Alya,” Nihal said quietly.

“What weapon?” Nash demanded.

“Weapon?” the woman replied. “Weapon? Who said anything about a weapon?”

Right when things were starting to get interesting, Saiph cleared his throat. “Nash.”

“Saiph? What's up? Alya-”

“I've brought Ara with me.”

In other words, shut up before you give anything away.

“Oh. Why?”

She couldn't take it any longer. She came out from the stairs and entered the room. It was hugely long, with one smooth wall and the other, the right, fenced in with jail cell after jail cell after jail cell. In the first was a woman with short red hair and large gray eyes, with pink armor and what looked to be a rose quartz on her crown. In the cell next to her was a young man around her age with shoulder length, shaggy tannish hair and light brown eyes, a slight build beneath a fairly useless lime green armor that formed an open diamond and only covered his arms, shoulders, legs, and back, leaving his entire chest and stomach open. She refrained from looking at his body, trying to hide her blush.

Nihal's gem was unknown, but it was nothing to Nash's. Nash, in a startlingly yellow armor, was covered on his chest, hands and wrists, legs to the bottom of his calves, and the bottom of his stomach; but the armor was non-existant on his stomach, arms, and thighs. She felt her blush deepen despite herself, and hoped Nash and Saiph wouldn't notice. Nash's crown had a yellow gem in it, but she couldn't say what it was.

“Ara, what are you doing here?”

Nash's confused question jerked her from her embarrassment. “I was worried about you. I didn't see you leave the Pyxis. You were with Feb, weren't you? I didn't see, and when it was all over I had no idea where you were. And Saiph said you'd been injured, so...”

Nash laughed, right in her face. “Oh, Ara, you are such a pleasure. You know that?”

She just blushed harder.

Nash turned to Saiph. “You told her I was injured? Don't you know by now that she's a worrier? I told you how down she was while you were gone, and what? You decided to make her worry some more?”

“It wasn't-” she began, but Alya's voice cut her off.

“A human?” She spoke with wonder. “A human... what is a human doing here?”

Saiph moved closer to her, blatantly protective. She wondered what he thought they could do. She saw beside Nash two daggers and a skinny sword. She recognized it as a rapier. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Don't give me a flat tire, please.”

Saiph's face turned to her, his expression bemused. “A flat tire?”

“She means, 'please don't step on my feet.' If you step on the back of a person's foot and trip up their walking, then you give them a 'flat tire.' Don't you know anything, O Brilliant Leader?”

Saiph gave Nash a half-glare, but Ara could only laugh. He was great, just like a brother-

That thought immediately sobered her. Her real brother had died. Thinking of him as a brother would be a mistake, and bad luck for him. He was a friend. Nothing else.

She looked him over, but he didn't seem to be in pain. Logically, she knew that Deneb had healed all of Nash's wounds. She knew, in her head, that he was fine. But, just as she'd known the outcome of that night, she had to see for herself. To know. To be sure. To give up any ridiculous hopes that may try to fester inside her.

But this time, everything truly seemed okay. No one had died. Everyone was safe, and there had been a technical victory, though reconstruction must begin immediately. But buildings could be rebuilt. It was the people who could never return.

“You look all right,” she said finally.

“Of course I'm all right. We have Deneb, remember?”

Vaguely she wondered if Saiph had a special ability, and if so, what. Then she pushed it out of her thoughts. “Yeah, I know we have Deneb, but-”

“But you just had to come make sure, because you're a worrywart. Like how you studied Saiph when he returned.”

The blush was back.

Nash laughed. “Come on, get back upstairs. I get off watch in a few hours. I'll come and see you. Okay?”

She nodded, but was again interrupted by Alya. “Human! Human, look at me!”

She had the idea to turn away, but for some reason, her head turned anyway. Her eyes locked with those gray ones, and suddenly she was walking toward her.

“Ara!” Saiph shouted, but she only vaguely noticed. Somehow, for once, his voice wasn't so important.

“I understand, Alya,” she heard Nihal whisper, and then something shimmered around her. Saiph's voice disappeared completely.

She stood before Alya's cell, her gaze still held captive. Yes, that was it, she realized dumbly. She was somehow being held captive. “Human, you understand, don't you?” Alya said earnestly. She reached through the bars to grab Ara's wrist in an icy grip. A part of Ara noted the pain it caused. “You understand, more than those fools ever could. You understand the feeling of being betrayed, of being despised when you've done nothing. Nothing! But because my parents' parents followed Lucifer, I have been punished to spend eternity in Hell. Why? I have done nothing! You, too, have suffered, have you not? You've suffered through Adam and Eve, but you are not they! You did not eat the Forbidden Fruit. You did not break any of His rules! Yet, you, too, must suffer degradations, though none so horrific as what I have endured. You understand what I say, do you not?”

Ara didn't know she could speak, but for some reason her thoughts passed her lips without her thinking to speak. “I'm not a Christian. I've never believed in Him.”

Alya was shocked for a moment, but she quickly spoke again. “And yet you continue to breathe on the planet that God Himself made, not having to worry yet about pain and fire and heat, where every movement of your muscle is torment. Earth is Heaven compared to that place, and yet... but no, that is not the point. Certainly you have suffered, have you not?”

“Of course. Everyone suffers, no matter their religion.”

“Yes, precisely. Everyone on Earth suffers, though the Garden on Eden was Paradise. Because of the sins of one, you have been punished eternally. How many humans grace the Gates of Heaven? I'll tell you: one out of every million, at most. I have seen the believers fall. I have seen their disillusionment, their pain. I have seen it all. They had been faithful through life, and they were left with nothing. Priests have fallen. Nuns. Because they were not what God wanted, were not perfect enough.”

“Jesus came down though, to repent for us.”

“No,” Alya said quickly. “No, he did not. Or at least, that was not God's intention. Jesus was kind, yes, a good man. A great man. But God was not so kind. Did you not read the Old testament? The punishments that God doled out on his people. Even those who followed him, if they did not follow in accordance to His wishes-” She stopped speaking and seemed to listen to something. Ara could just barely make out voices behind her now. “It's weakening,” she muttered. Then her attention returned to Ara. “Please, try to understand. I have done no wrong, yet every day of my eternal life, I must lay in Hell, ever suffering worse torments than your mortal mind could ever imagine. The screams...” She shuddered. “You could not understand; you have not lived it.”

“I understand the screams of agony,” Ara said dully, again speaking her thoughts without her mental barriers. If she could feel emotions, she would be disconcerted and scared. No. Terrified.

Alya looked deeply into her eyes. “Yes. Yes, you do. They are everywhere, and only remotely do you realize that your voice is mixed in with the rest. But I have not sinned. I was never given a chance. I asked for one. I begged God to allow me a chance, but He said no. He said my parents' sins were my own, and neither I nor my children will ever escape His fate. My children. Can you understand my fear, that if ever I have a child, they will be as burdened as me? I do not want that for them. Not when they have done no wrong. Can you understand?”

“Not exactly, but... I would feel the same for any children I would have. I would want them to be free and happy.”

“Yes. Happy. I want them to experience such a thing as happiness. I want them to see the blue sky of Earth. I want them to smile. And so I must do this. I must take down your God. Their God.” She nodded her head to indicate something behind Ara. “Even if it means committing the worst sin, I must take him down. I must. I must. Even if it means killing God's Angels.”

Angels?

The thought shocked Ara slightly. She seemed to be coming up from water. Or a coma. “You mean Saiph...?”

“Yes, even Saiph,” Alya said quickly. The noises around them were getting louder. “Even that great Angel. I hold nothing against him. I do not wish to hurt him. Make them understand. They seem to care for you. Make them understand, please! All I want is the freedom to be happy. I do not wish to reside in Hell any longer. I never wished it. Tell them that. Tell them that!” she cried desperately. “They will not listen to us, but perhaps you... perhaps they will be willing to listen to a human. Please!”

Dumbly, Ara nodded, her thoughts swirling madly. “Yes, I understand. I'll try.”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

“My name is Ara, by the way,” Ara belatedly introduced herself. “I'll try to come see you again, but they won't be happy.”

“Of course not,” she said, a bit bitterly. The noises were now distinguishable, and Ara could make out Saiph's voice.

“Ara! Hold on!”

Ara looked down at Alya's hand, still wrapped tightly around her wrist. If the woman wanted to, she could pull Ara in and choke her to death. Ara noticed that at the same time as the strange feeling of something around her snapped as if a string had been pulled.

“Ara!”

She turned to Saiph, blinking at him. He rushed to her and grabbed her into his arms, quickly twisting off Alya's hand. Nash shoved her away, back into her cell. She fell with a hard thud. “Wait,” Ara murmured, but her voice was quiet, her tone confused.

“Get her upstairs. I'll take care of things here,” Nash ordered. Saiph nodded and picked her up.

No. She didn't want to be the pathetic, useless female. But she couldn't say anything, her mind still spinning. She felt overwhelmed.

Saiph said nothing as he carried her up the stairs. She managed to look up at him, to see the grim line of his jaw, before she had to close her eyes. Angels? They were Angels? But Feb had called them the Fallen. Fallen Angels? But wasn't that supposed to be Lucifer and his little gang?

Ara's head started to pound.

She wondered if they'd heard. Heard their little discussion. Wondered if they knew she knew. But why? Why would they keep this from her?

“Why didn't you tell me?” she murmured. Saiph made a grunting noise, sounding both surprised and relieved.

“Told you?” he asked gently.

“That you were Angels.”

He stiffened. Guess he hadn't heard, she thought wryly.

“She told you,” he murmured. “We were forbidden to tell. He ordered us to keep our existence a secret, or else we couldn't Ascend again.”

“What?!” She yelped. She turned in his grip. “Make me forget,” she ordered. “He can't hold you responsible for what the enemy did, right?”

“We could be seen as responsible. If I hadn't taken you down...”

“Make me forget,” she said again. “Please, please make me forget.” If she'd known that what she'd wanted would be at this price...

“It's too late,” he murmured. “You already know.”

“He can't punish you for this. He just can't!” But she could still hear Alya's words in her mind, and she was afraid. “God isn't that cruel. He...”

“God is no crueler than He must be,” Saiph soothed. “But Angels must remain unknown to humans. We understood this when we accepted our mission.”

Ara's mind spun. Mission? God and Angels and Fallen... was this all a lie? God wasn't real. He couldn't be real. How could he be when...?

“Nigel. Night.” For the first time in months, she spoke their names aloud. “She said... she said most don't enter Heaven.”

Saiph hesitated.

She laughed bitterly. “You know, at funerals, everyone says that the departed are in a better place now. That God is with them, and they are sitting on his...” But she couldn't continue. Remembering those days was still far too painful. “And now I learn that my brother... I mean, I never believed, but...”

“Yes, I figured you were a non-Believer,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Your brother... Nigel?”

She closed her eyes and gave in to the confused swirl of thoughts. She had to wait for things to settle down inside her head. Then she'd be able to figure out how to avoid this conversation. She just needed a few minutes... “He's in Hell, isn't he? He's suffering still... even though... because I... because I couldn't... because I wasn't strong enough to...”

She latched onto Saiph and cried.

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Every story unless otherwise claimed is Kayura's, and is copyrighted 2006 under her name.