I can't believe it's already book 5! *cries* I hope you're all enjoying the series thus far. I mean, it seems like most of you are! Feel free to watch the lovely trailer to the right that I made out of love. :) <3

Well, here goes nothing (everything).... ;)

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"It was a hot and sticky day with no wind. The farm smelled of yesterday's rain and fresh manure from the stables. Alexandru Crucellio sat at the back of his house, sitting alone in the shade with a collection of rocks, a snake's skin, and different sized sticks that he had collected around the fields, as well an odd-shaped blade. He had immediately buried the blade into the ground next to him in case someone decided to steal it, or his mother saw it from inside the house and took it away from him. The blade was very special to Alexandru because he knew that it was magical.

            "What is wrong, my love?" Phoebe Crucellio asked, setting down a small bowl of water on the ground and caressing her twelve year old son's muddy face with a damp towel as he continued to play in the dirt. "I have watched you through the kitchen window sulking around in the mud and in the fields. Have you taken care our animals, yet?"

            "I already took care of the chickens and the rabbits."

            Phoebe plucked a twig out of her son's hair, running her hands through his soft gold hair. "And the horses? Have you fed the horses? Drakon might need a wash, love." She then plucked another twig from her son's hair and muttered under her breath, "As do you..."

            "Father told me not to take care of the horses today because I...hurt my ankle... sparring."

            Phoebe looked down at her son for a long time "You never hurt yourself sparring, my love. Why do you lie to your own mother? I always know when you are lying." Before he could move out of her grasp, she reached down and pulled up the bottom of Alexandru's pants, exposing a purplish bruise on his lower left calf.

            Phoebe was horrified. "Did your father do this to you?" she whispered, but her son started to draw in the dirt again. "Answer me, boy! I am speaking to you!"

            "Yes!" Alexandru exclaimed, stabbing his stick into the ground so hard that it snapped in two."It was all my fault! I went out to show my secret spot in the woods to the other boys in the village. I wanted to play with them longer. I disobeyed father's orders and he went looking for me and..." Alexandru put his face in his hands and started to weep. "I am sorry, mother. Father hates me now, please do not hate me as well. I will be a good boy!"

            Pheobe Crucellio blinked back tears, reaching down to her son and bringing him to her chest. "I could never hate you. You are a good boy, Alexandru. You are my heart and you are your father's heart. You know that your father does not tolerate playing in the forest late in the afternoon, but he should not have hit you for it. There are many drunken men that wonder about at night, he was only worried that you would be hurt."

            "I should not have went, it is my fault. I only want to show them my secret spot," Alexandru whispered. "All of the other boys are allowed to play late at night and it is not fair. I am forced to spar with father, do chores all day like a slave boy, help with dinner, and then sleep early. This is my life."

            "Do you not like your life?" Phoebe wondered.

            "Our life is fine," he said dismissively.

            "Do you wish that you were born into another life?"

            Alexandru looked out into the fields."Sometimes," he admitted.

            "Do you wish that I was not your mother?"

            "Never." Absently, Alexandru started to dig in the ground next to him for the blade he had buried. "I only.... I only wish for a friend. A real friend..."

            His mother looked heartbroken for a while, thinking about how a different life with her son would be, running her fingers absently through Alexandru's hair. "What is that?" Phoebe suddenly inquired, pointing to the object Alexandru had subconsciously dug up at his side.

            "Nothing," he said, quickly burying it. "It is just an object I found in the fields. It is nothing."

            "That is not nothing. That is a weapon! You have lied to me again!" Phoebe dug into the dirt and brushed off the blade. "Why do you have this?" she demanded. "Did your father give you this? There is dark magic on this, words that even I do not understand."

            "I found it. It is mine," Alexandru said, quickly snatching the blade from his mother. He tucked the blade into his pants and stood up, his fingers jittery and his eyes uneasily sliding left and right. "May I go for a walk, mother?"

            Phoebe stared at her son as if he had two heads. He had dismissed the subject of the weapon, although she was now planning to thoroughly discuss it with her son later. "Where to?" she asked carefully.

            "The woods. I wish to make a hideout with wood and grass."

            "Your father will not be pleased if he finds out."

            Alexandru smiled a bit mischeviously "Unless he does not find out..."

            Phoebe shook her head at her son. He had clearly cried before to sway her decision to let him go back into the woods. "To think I believed that you were sincerely sorry for disobeying your father." She put her hands on her hips. "You may not go anywhere until you promise me that you will get rid of that demon blade. Objects like those are not meant to be found by children."

            Alexandru looked down at his naked feet, kicking a rock to the side, then looked up at his mother from under his lashes. Phoebe's son, like herself when she was the younger, was the master of manipulating others her with those big green eyes. After many pouty lipped expressions and gentle kisses on his mother's cheek, Alexandru's mother had finally allowed her somewhat devious son go play in the woods, but only if he promised to bury the blade for good and come back before dark.

            Alexandru was much faster than the other boys in his village and ran like a wild animal through the forest, hopping over logs and landing on soft soil with his bare feet. He swung through vines and climbed over huge boulders, laughing to himself as he got closer and closer to his secret place. When Alexandru came to a dirt road, he recalled his father the day before coming to a stop on his stallion on that very pathway, and seeing Alexandru and the other little boys running through the woods. They had only gotten about halfway to Alexandru's secret spot before his father, Malphas Crucellio, screamed at the children to scurry back to their homes, scolded his son with his hand, and then rode with his son back to their home.

            Waiting for the right moment, Alexandru threw himself the middle of the road in front of a handsome man on a tan horse, who brought his beast to an abrupt halt.

            "What are you doing, boy?" the man said, bringing his horse to an abrupt halt. "I could have ran you over!"

            "You must help me!"  Alexandru cried, feigning fear. "My friend--he's--he's dying! He fell from a tree and now he is trapped!" He thrust his finger towards the woods. "You have to help me, sir!"

            The man, Bastien, told Alexandru of his own son as he followed the little blonde boy through the woods. They had been running for a long time when the man finally asked, "Where is your trapped friend?"

            "Right here! Look!" They came to a an abrupt opening of flat grass, where a cracked, old mirror lay against a old tree, isolated from the human world behind thorns and vines that Alexandru had placed over its surface to hide it. "My friend...he is inside of that mirror. He is wise, he has kept me company and told me stories of people, such as I, who can hear his whispered words. He calls me the Dark Prince, because I am able to speak to lost spirits such as his. I know it is difficult to believe, but he has been trapped in this mirror for years. My friend...he was punished for stealing food for his sick wife, Batibat. The evil man who trapped them, the man that my friend stole food from, was a warlock, and now my friend and his wife both live in a terrible, mirrored world from ours where they are encased in nightmares, flames, and chaos. I have seen it myself!" Alexandru realized that Bastien was laughing at him, and started to lower his voice in defeat. "My friend says that I am special, that I can cross worlds because I am...a half-demon. That I can save him..."

            "Your friend is not real." Bastien clasped Alexandru on the shoulder, laughing slightly. "Why did you bring me out to these woods to show me a mirror? Do you have a family, son? Go home to them and stop playing pretend." Bastien started to walk away.

            "Wait!" Alexandru exclaimed, taking out his dagger. "Look! My friend, he gave me an exact location for this blade. He told me that if I wielded it correctly, if I gave it to an adult who was good, who was willing to free them both, that they could both be freed by that good man's soul. You are a good man, yes? You have a good soul?"

            "I am a good man," Bastien said, looking into the mirror then at Alexandru's blade a bit fearfully. But I am not a gullible man. Whatever your game is, son, I want no part of it."

            It was then that a great wind kicked up, knocking leaves off of the trees and spreading the vines and thorns away from the ancient mirror, exposing the surface of the mirror to Alexandru and Bastien. The reflective surface began to move like silvery water and a low whistle pierced the air, making Bastien cover his ears.

            "Ahrimad!" Alexandru exclaimed, smiling. "I told you I could find a good soul. You did not believe me. Bastien will help you and your wife so you can finally be freed, I know he will!"

            Bastien looked up at the sky, which was darkening greatly and took a step back away from the blonde haired boy. "What is wrong with that mirror? Who are you talking?" Bastien demanded, his voice wavering. "What is that noise? What is happening?"

            "My friend is here," Alexandru said, ushering Bastien closer. "Come, he wants to speak to you. He says that you are not like me, that you can only hear him in closer to the mirror. He is a good man, like you. He has promised me that he will not hurt you." Alexandru hurried to Bastien and grabbed his left hand, placing the dagger in right. "Come quickly and place hilt of the dagger against the mirror!"

            Appearing entranced by the mirrors waving surface, Bastien allowed Alexandru to lead him to the mirror and stood before it, his right hand trembling with the dagger and his eyes glazing over.

            "Come closer, Bastien..." a voice hissed. Startled, Bastien looked down at Alexandru, who gave him a reassuring smile, his young cheeks flushed with delight.

            "I told you he was real." Alexandru gently grabbed Bastien's wrist and moved the hilt of the dagger closer to the mirror. "Please, free my friend. He will not hurt you, he has promised me!"

            As the hilt of the dagger reached the mirror, the mirrors surface stilled entirely and the whistle in the air grew so loud that Bastien let out a scream and tried to pull away from the mirror. A burst of energy protruded from the mirror, knocking Alexandru back on the ground and pinning him down. Two silvery, wet hands flew out from the mirror and gripped Bastien's arm, tugging the dagger out of his hand and stabbing him the heart over and over again with the blade. Blood sprayed over the ground and on Bastien's face as he roared in agony. Through it all, Alexandru stared at the scene in horror, tears filling his eyes and his own screams lodged in his throat as he watched the innocent man being stabbed to death.

            Bastien fell forward into the mirror, pulled straight forward by the same wet, silvery hands that murdered him, until there were no remains of his body. Moments later, two black, amorphous figures exited the portal and the mirrored surface cracked into a million pieces with a sonic boom. One of the inhuman, shapeless figures began to change shape, bending and twisted until it formed the silhouette of a man, and the other being shaped itself until it was more feminine and small.

            "We are forever indebted to you for freeing us from the Unknown, Dark Prince," they hissed in unison, bowing slightly, disappearing in a black mist.

            Alexandru lay on the ground for hours, staring at the mirror, until he finally found the courage to run back home. Alexandru never told a soul about Ahrimad and Batibat, nor spoke to them again until many years later, when he would call out their names and pitilessly trap their evil, yet wise spirits within two riding cloaks for an eternity for lying to him as a child..."

            "The end," Death said conclusively.

            "I don't like that story it was gross," Little Faith said, watching Death at the end of her bed with her big blue eyes, clutching Mr. Wiggles hard to her chest. "Tell me another one, Blanky."

            "Gross?" Death snickered. "It was just a little bit of blood, princess."

            "The mirror dude stabbed that guy like twenty times. That's gross. Plus, the blonde boy was really dirty and twigs in his hair, plus he played in the dirt and collected rocks. Weird, and also gross."

            "Maybe he just didn't have anything else to do. This story was based on a life a long time ago, you know. The kid's only real toy was a rock...and who he thought was a friend in the mirror."

            "Was Alex-hand-droop ugly? Is that why he didn't have any friends?"

            "Not exactly." Death's hand fell into a fist. "Alexandru had friends growing up, but most of them died really young. There were a lot of sicknesses and "gross" things going on back then. His father didn't like him hanging out with other kids his age because they distracted Alexandru from what his father wanted. Honestly, princess, this kids father was a huge, throbbing di...." Death turned to Little Faith, realizing what he was about to say. "A huge, throbbing ding--ding! That's right. A huge, throbbing ding--ding." Death slipped up the sleeve of his left arm, revealing a golden watch, then stood up. "Oh, would you look at that. It's nine. I have to go, cupcake."

            "Wait!"

            Death plopped back down on the bed. "What is it? I told you, I have to leave at nine to be on schedule for my...uh, job..."

              "You're not leaving until you tell me a realipstick story about Alexand-doo. Mirrors don't move like water or have people in them, they're just mirrors. Tell me a realipstick story! Stop making things up, Blanky."

            "Realistic? Like, tell you a story that happened to me personally?"

            "Sure!"

            "Well I just did..." Death mumbled.

            "What?"

            "Nothing," Death growled. "I don't want to tell another story, I'm hungry." Death lowered his voice, playfully outstretching his gloved hands like claws towards Little Faith as if to tickle her. "You won't like me when I'm hungry. I start to tickle when I'm hungry..."

            "I don't want to be tickled. I want a story." Little Faith then puckered out her lip, eyes big and tearing up.

            Death brought his head to his chest in immediate defeat and moaned. "F me, that damn puckered lip will be the death of me," he said under his breath, then more loudly to Little Faith, "I'll tell you a story, ok? Just don't do that thing with your eyes..."

            "Crying?"

            "Yeah, that." Death patted Little Faith's leg awkwardly with his gloved hand. "Don't do that. Got it?"

            "Ok!" Little Faith moved her legs excitedly in her bed and held back a squeal. She knew that if she woke up her mother or father, Death would have to leave. "Now tell me a story that isn't boring or gross so I can have good dreams!"

            "Hey! I'm not boring!"

            "Sometimes you are when you're cranky. I liked the story with the handsome warrior becoming an angel. That one was more real-lipstic and entertaining." Little Faith bit Mr. Wiggles ears, smiling to herself. "Can you tell me a story about the handsome warrior? Make him a prince, too! Tell me another story and make the warrior a prince!

            "How is the warrior-angel story is more realist than the moving mirror? How is s story about an angel more realistic than a story about a moving mirror?"

            "Because you're an angel and you're real," Faith argued, then poked Death in the leg under the covers, " You're pretty and brave like that warrior. That means he could be real, too. That's poof."

            "Proof, not poof," Death corrected, clearly holding back a laugh, "And I never said the warrior was pretty..."

            "He's pretty and he's mine!" Faith shouted in a very scary voice. " I want to hear more about the pretty warrior who becomes a white angel!"

            "You mean a light angel."

            "Yeah, like you!"

            "I'm not a light angel."

            "Yes you are, you're an light angel."

            "I'm an angel, but I'm not the kind of angel you want me to be, sweetheart."

            "Why not?"

            "Because...I'm...well, mean. People don't really like me."

            "You're not mean! You're Blanky and I love you."

            "I'm not mean to you specifically. I'm mean to everyone else. And you always say that you love me then you fool around with Mr. Wiggles when I'm not around. I have eyes everywhere, princess. You have fluffy men all over the place, lined up at your playhouse door the moment I leave you."

            "What?"

            At that, Death looked away from her, not saying anything for a while. "You're just mad because it wasn't one of those happy endings that you like, so you're wasting my time and manipulating me into telling you another story. You're a bully."

            Little Faith frowned. "I'm not a bully, I just like happy endings..."

            "But happy endings aren't realistic. I'm not telling you a happy story and giving you false expectations. I was told a bunch of stupid "happy" stories when I was a kid, and my life sucked. I don't do happy endings, I just...end. You get me? I'm the Angel of Death. As in I just...end. No happy endings. Sorry."

            Little Faith puckered out her lip, her eyes tearing up again. "But...but...but....but...but.. happy endings are my favorite, Blanky."

            Death sighed heavily. "Goddamnit you're so effin adorable!" he cursed bitterly under his breath. "Move over, manipulator I'm telling you a story that's going down in history."

            Giggling, Little Faith scooted over with Mr. Wiggles still clutched her chest, allowing Death to squeeze himself next to Faith on the unbelievably small bed. "Once upon a--"

            "Wait!" Little Faith picked up Death's arm and put it behind her head, cuddling close to the massive, ruthless killer on her bed. "Ok, now I'm comfortable. Also, I want to be the pretty princess who falls in love with the warrior-angel and then marries him. I also want to have his babies because we're soul mates."

            Laying extremely still, Death looked down at the little girl's black hair splayed across his chest, and then eyed the pink ribbon on his ring finger that she had tied onto his glove as a pretend ring of marriage.

            "What are you waiting for?" Little Faith asked impatiently, poking Death's cloaked chest with a chubby finger.

            Death stared up at the ceiling, falling into an odd trance. "Once upon a time there lived a beautiful princess..."

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TBH there were a lot of feelz on my part during this chapter. What were your feelz? ;) Pwease vote and leave feedback for me if you enjoyed it! :))))

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