For the third night in a row, I stayed up late into the night. I huddled under my blanket with a small object, the shadows etching in dark, moving pools across the pale whiteness of my walls. My phone was on, set to never go to sleep so the light would continue without me constantly touching the screen. I sat with my back to my pillow, my hands hovering over the object, which was half of a graphite pencil that my father had broken. With enough focus and will and desire, I learned, I could easily levitate the object, and only if I did so on purpose.

The ability was new to me, but I could already tell that this was something that had to do with wind, because there was a sort of breeze drifting from my hand whenever I lifted something. It wasn't that I could control the wind, rather that I was the wind. It was me moving the pencil, not the air. It was as if the breeze was a natural limb of mine, instead of a power of any sort.

With a pursed sucking noise, the pencil half wobbled upwards, nearing my hand. I experimented, lifting it up and down without any other movement of my hand, the control I had over it depending on instinctive will alone. I turned it over it the light, glancing over the shards at one end and the smooth lead at the other. I dropped the pencil, still using the air, and lifted it again. Curiously, it was extremely easy to do it, and I accidentally did it when I was daydreaming sometimes, or just sleeping. I wasn't sure it it was a mental thing, or just something else altogether. I didn't know if it was a gift or a curse (and if it was a gift, I don't remember unwrapping it!).

If Oliver had something to do with it was another of my many concerns. In my dreams, he did tell me that I "have wind." The conversation I had with his dream self about the brilliant tornadoes that came when he "found me" was still vivid in my mind, unblurred by the fog a sleep-induced hallucination as it normally was.

Interrupting my thoughts, there was a knock on my door. I knew it as my mother's. I turned off my phone and threw it to the side of my bed where it wouldn't be found and, ultimately, confiscated. Then, I threw the pencil in the floor, but softened its landing with my air so that it wouldn't make a sound. "I'm up, Mom."

My mother opened my bedroom door, gradually revealing her smiling face. Her eyes were lit with a gentle seriousness, mixed with the spark of kindness and intelligence. "I'd like to have a word with you, Emma. You up for a chat tonight?"

I nodded, suddenly worried. My mother and I talked sometimes, but it it was so important that I had to be talked to at night, something was probably wrong. Inside of my mind, I was looking over all the bad things I could have done to trigger a serious conversation, and my worrying increased when I came up with nothing. My mother came over and sat on the edge of my bed, dipping the bottom slightly. "Is anything wrong?"

She dodged my question. "I sometimes forget to check up on you... I leave you to yourself too much... I want to know how school's going. Any crushes? Anything new happening?"

I shook my head immediately at the first question, disgusted at the thought of a so-called crush. Things like that, in my opinion, were completely irrational feelings of either respect and trust or sexual attraction to a person you normally hardly know, which never ended well for anyone. Then, wanting no elaboration for that, I said, "Oliver is kind of getting attached to our group. I mean, Mary and I. Mr. Bluethorne is as harsh as ever. Umm, we have a essay coming up over Little Women. Why?" I pressed my back up against the pillow a bit more, a little desperate to get back to practicing my new power. "Has something gone wrong at school or something?"

"Anything weird happened lately?"

Weird would have been the perfect word to describe my air, but I didn't feel like sharing the little trick I could do with her. That would cause us both to go down a long pathway of discovery and wisdom and control that I absolutely did not want to go down. Sure, I was curious about the breeze, but I would find that out on my own. "No, ma'am." And at this point, I'd given up asking what was wrong anymore.

"A little while ago, I discovered that you have a little brother or sister on the way."

My black eyes, normally dull coals parallel to each other on my "resting bitch face", sparked with life. A smile wove its way onto my lips wide enough to show the bottoms of my pearly teeth. In my fifteen years of living, I'd always aspired to be an older sister to someone by blood, rather than soul, like with Mary Clarkson. "Awesome! Really awesome! Really, really awesome! That's... I don't even know what to say! How far along are you?"

"A few weeks, actually. If it's a boy, we're thinking Tommy James Whitestone, like your father's grandpa. And if it's a girl, I'm thinking Rachael Lee Whitestone. What do you think, Emma?"

"I think that whatever name you chose, I don't really care. I just know I will love him or her with all my heart!" I grinned, eyes skipping over her stomach. "This is... exciting... I get to show them Metallica! And I'll beat up anyone who even looks at them! A-and..."

Mother laughed, ruffling my blonde curls. "You two are going to be dangerous, aren't you? I apologize for telling you so late... I was so wrapped up in everything, and I knew you were too. I should have told you sooner."

I shrugged, unable to wipe the stupid smile off my face. "I don't really feel bothered by that... I think right now, you could cut off my arm and I'd still forgive you!"
"Wow. You're that happy, huh?" She pulled away and removed herself from the edge of my bed, letting my mattress level itself out again. "Alright, I'll leave you to sleep. You have school tomorrow. Rest well, Emma." She leaned over to kiss my forehead, and then left my room soon after.

I glanced over at the pencil in my floor, uninspired to play around with my ability any further. After a dream of mine being fulfilled, I'd be too distracted and giddy to really do it without risk of hurting myself, I used my air only to retrieve my phone and lock my door. Then, I bid Mary goodnight via texting, and put my phone away once more.

Tomorrow, I had things to tell my best friend. One, my little sibling-to-come. Two, my ability.

***

In the following dream that hits me all at once, waving over me in sudden sleep opposed to my excited wakefulness that only occurred minutes ago, I am not me. I am not 'Lil', as I was before. I am, at this time, a warrior with long black hair. I am at the edge of the forest, narrowing my black eyes over into an abyss I know is forbidden. Holding a necklace with a symbol over it against my breast, I am filled with sudden courage. The symbol is a backwards three with a sharp top and a semi-circle bottom, like one I saw on Oliver's shirt in an earlier dream of mine. By the abyss, a few of the citizens are building a physical barrier to keep other from falling in. Until then, my character has created a sloped barrier of semi-transparent violet mental power to keep them from falling in, a wall at the end so they don't keep rolling.

"Ebony Kalos!" greets one of the loyal workers. His shaggy, dirty blonde hair is partly covered with a metal cap, in he has a strange but useful-looking tool clasped in his hands. His gray eyes are sparked with excitement, as if building has caused great joy in him. As always, he is slouching. "How is Croma's illness?"

My character, uncontrolled by me, as if I see through her eyes rather than be her, dips her head back in greeting. "Hello, Carter Vurandoes. Croma is still ill. However, Jupus is still attempting to heal him along with the help of Gan Murondoes and Caleb Minios. I will not lie, we have not seen an illness like this before."

Carter glances down, pulling out a material of undefined color. "Hopefully, the barrier will help with that. I've heard he is sick because the Dark's demons keep breaking in. Disrupts his energy, or somethin. That right?" He presses the material into a gap in the wall, molding it to fill the inside. His stormy gaze lowers in sadness.

"Yes." I move my black hair out of my face, and look over at the abyss. "The only bad part about closing the barrier is that, until Croma creates the cure to his people's infertility on this temporary dimension and another dimension in which we can live without collapse, there will no new Kalos members."

"How unfortunate... The angels can't be produced until Croma is better, either. And faeries can't, either. We're all out of luck, but I see ya'll are cursed with it not until Croma is healthy, but until another dimension is made..." Carter scratches his head. "Is it true the daughters of Croma can actually procreate, as the first inventions of destruction and creation?" When I, Ebony, tense, he says, "I'm sorry, the question is rather personal..."

I shook my head. "No. Jupus and I can both have children, and can be impregnated by any male. I understand that you are curious. After all, the birth of another creature is a curious thing... I have heard that in the new dimension, we will also have to eat to live."

The man gapes in shock. "I suppose we'll have to drink and sleep too, won't we? I've heard about this, but I never imagined that those rumors would be true..." He wipes the grime from his cheek with the sleeve of his outfit. "I apologize, Ebony. I have taken up time you could be using to supervise."

I dip my head. "Likewise. You have time you should have spent building. I'll leave you to that, Carter." Without another word to him, my character walks off, gazing into the abyss. Although it was never directly stated, I knew that my being had once come from there. I was, as all demons were, not born in the dimension of eternal creation. Instead, I had come from that gaping hole that stood at the end of the land. Briefly, the images of before I crossed into my current dimension flashed against my mind. I used to be locked away with all the other female demons, but had my own quarters because I was daughter of the god - the Dark - there. My quarters were made from nothingness, as was everything else there. My state was dreamlike because of the unstable reality. Male and female demons could not speak with each other, both were treated nastily by the Dark, and I dreamed of a better place. A place that was forbidden to even think about: Croma. The journey through the dimensions was dangerous; it could rip you apart like a black hole and kill you, through the hole you went from being made out of nothing into being something material, and with one wrong movement, you could be shredded to bits. However, I took that risk. I fell in without a name or identity, only known as the Dark's daughter. Nevertheless, they took me in. Croma held me close as his adoptive daughter, and his daughter, Jupus, took me as a sister. For my black hair and coal-ish eyes that all demons have, I was given the name 'Ebony'. Then, other demons followed after into the path of goodness into the dimension where people were accepted. I was the first of the empire called "Kalos", which became the second most proud name in the land. The first was my sisters empire of angels, "Murondoes", and I did not mind that.

I gaze into the hole, glad to be rid of that nightmarish hell's sight. I'd no longer have to even look at it. The only downside, as Carter said, is no more Kalos citizens.

Something catches my eye below, struggling in the dip of land between a low wall that will become a barrier and the pit of chaos. It looks like it's bleeding. It clutches its reddened arm, and staggers up the elevation. Close behind it is a demon with inky black skin, which I recognize is a guard, whose job is to keep aspiring demons from crossing over.

I begin gliding down the slope, seeming to fly rather than run down the grass that gradually becomes dead the closer it grown to the hole. I break down the barrier for a minute, shouting for the workers to stand back to where they won't risk falling. I unsheathe my sword, dig my feet in the soil to keep from sliding in, and point my sword in the face of the coming evil. "I suggest you go back, damnation!"

The guard gives an animalistic snarl, hunching over and snapping its webbed wings together in anger. Its teeth, yellow with stains of pink on the dull ends, snap frantically at me, and slobber flies in gray wads all over my armor. Unlike many of the demons, these guards are brainless and ugly, disgusting and feral. It slashes its marred tail, stands on two sagging legs, and turns its attention from the newcomer to me. "Ebony Kalos, that's you?" It twists its head to the side, cracking its neck. "You are no demon now, traitor! I must kill!"

As the guard dives forward, I press my sword in front of my chest, expecting it to sink itself onto my blade. Instead, it twists over and presses back with its wing so it won't be hurt. I nick its wing, and it begins snapping at my side. Stepping over, I slash my metal across its jaw. The gleam of my sword takes on a brilliant light against the darkness of its flesh, and this time, I hit it somewhere it its mangled and wrinkled arm. Red spurts out in a stream against the brightness of the sky, and vanishes as quickly as it comes. In a flash of moment, it knocks the sword from my hands with its tail. Then, the guard demon leaps onto me, knocking me to the ground and snapping for my throat.

If that wasn't enough peril, I lose my footing in the earth. The enemy and I begin sliding towards the black hole, and I can't focus enough to recreate the barrier. None of the citizens standing helplessly above have enough energy to, and they didn't know how to join their mental energy. Clawing for life and struggling to keep the demon from ripping open my neck, I cry out. I'm not sure what for; for Croma, for help, for goodbye? I'm slipping back into my old home and, inevitably, I will be killed their if not in the process of getting there.

Suddenly, a blast of flame shoots in front of my face, nearly burning my nose. A wall of lilac flinches into view, and what looks like a sheet of diamonds glimmers across it. I press my metal, armored shoes against the wall, stopping the sliding, and shove at the demon. The guard's humanoid face flickers with white hot flames. Although it is in great pain, it is still determined to kill me. The brute has more loyalty than brains, and this seems to be the only time that is a bad thing. Attempting to push it off, shoving at its saggy neck, another streak of fire hits it. Suddenly, dark, almost brown, redness splatters against my armor, followed by a coppery smell. The demon goes limp on top of me, and I have to wipe its blood from my eyes before looking over at my rescuer.

My rescuer is the very demon that climbed from the hole in the first place. His matted, white hair is as long as mine, down to his rear. Grime and dirt is smeared across his face, and his wide, black eyes are lit in deep fear. He holds a sword in the gut of the guard, and the sword has the name of a citizen engraved into its side. I assume he has borrowed it from that citizen, Caleb. In a single movement depending on strength, the white-haired Kalos-to-be flicks the body off of me, lowers the force field he had created, and slings the body back into the abyss. "Are you alright? Miss?"

I hold my cheek, just now realizing that the beastly demon had rippled a couple of claw marks into the flesh there. "I'm fine. You?"

"I'm okay, thanks to you," he says. The white-haired male holds down a blood-and-dirt streaked hand to pull me up with. When I'm up, be both begin limping up the hill, aided by the barrier, which he morphs to stand directly behind us so we don't fall again. "The demonic guardian called you Ebony. The Dark told the males that is what his ex-daughter went by... Is that true, Miss?"

I nod, take his sword, and look to give it back to Caleb. "Yes. I'm Ebony Kalos. Your name, Mister?" I hand the sword back to Caleb, who is standing beside Carter and another man named Mun, promise to have it washed soon, and turn to the newcomer with interest.

"My name is Salt. I came up with it on my own." He smiles, sitting cross-legged on the dark grass, gray-tinted hands in his lap. "You're a hero of mine, Miss Ebony."

"Just Ebony is fine," I say. "We'll get you back to Croma's castle, wash you up, and I'll show you around. Sound good?"

He dips his head, wiping his sticky hands onto the fabric of his thin, dirt-covered gown. "That sounds more than good... Ebony Kalos..."

***

In reality, not remembering anything about the morning except for walking through the doors with Mary, I began walking down the hallway to my classroom in Millton High School. Propping my bookbag over my angled shoulder, dipping my head to watch my tennis shoes jut in and out of my view, opposed to looking Mary Clarkson in the eyes. Overnight, I had become increasingly nervous about the wind and the strange dreams I'd been having. Besides, my zoning out was getting more and more frequent, lasting longer than the one before. I feared that, one day, I wouldn't be able to snap out of it. Besides, what if my wind wasn't an actual thing? Maybe I was going crazy. Maybe soon, I would wake up in an asylum, attempting to levitate the people in the cells around me.

"Something seems wrong, Sis..." Mary observed. "Are you okay?"

I blinked, not looking up at her. "I'm fine. My mother's pregnant."

My best friend was taken aback. "I thought you wanted a little sibling. The idea always got you so psyched! What's bugging you?" Her worried frown was open and unhidden. That was something I loved about Mary; she worried about her loved ones. Of course, anyone did, but she showed genuine worry. It didn't matter what she was doing, she'd drop every thing for someone she cared about, and that was not something everyone could say and be telling the truth.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell her or not; what if she thought I was crazy? What if she saw me do something with my air, and something bad happened? What if I hurt her with it? "There's something that... I'll tell you all about later..." I shrugged and continued walking to Gary Bluethorne's classroom. Mary said nothing else, and so the only sound that echoed throughout the hallway was the steady beat of our shoes hitting the floor, the loud laughter of a clique, and the shuffling sound of people digging through their lockers.

Mary asked me nothing else about it throughout the day, and I wasn't about to enlighten her.

***

I am the same character as before, by the name of Ebony Kalos. I sit on the edge of a garden full of exotic, unimaginable plants in varieties of colors I have never seen before. A few bushes are openly wilting, and I know it is because Croma is sick and can't keep them healthy. I know that he will be better soon, with the barrier finally being built and all.

My legs are dangling from the side of the rail of the third story of the castle. The vines curl around my limbs to keep me from falling over, which I don't plan on doing. The garden is my quiet place, when everyone else downstairs is being stressed, fighting, or, in this current case, having a dance.

Behind me, the door opens. The ivy parts ways to let whoever it is through, and then reconstruct themselves as the door closes. I turn to see the newcomer, Salt. His hair is soft, waving in the gentle breeze that snuggles up against the castle. His black eyes are bright with life, and a smile is snaked onto the pale skin of his face. He wears violet robes, as most Kalos members wear on occasions such as this. My robe bears jewels of a deep lilac color, unlike his plain ones. Here in Croma, equality was an all-around thing, but there had to be a way for them all to recognize me as royalty, even if I didn't like it.

"Jupus said you'd be up here, Ebony Kalos," says Salt. "Why aren't you downstairs, enjoying all the festivities?"

"We have dances here quite often," I say sullenly. "It keeps the Cromans from worrying too much. Of course, we have warriors outside in case something were to happen... That wall isn't going to keep out the demons, just keep us from falling in."

Salt climbs over onto the railing with me, suffering the ivy restraints. "You speak your mind, Queen Ebony. I respect that... And you keep your kingdom safe."

"I try and keep all the kingdoms safe. All of us royalty do. Me, Jupus, Croma..."

The white-haired demon dips his head. "I've noticed... I've only been here for a while, but I can still tell. Croma has so many natural barriers around houses and settlements, too, to keep us all safe. You couldn't ask for a better god."

I say nothing, but I agree.

"I've heard Mun and Gan talk about kidnappings... I'm not sure if they are true. According to Carter and Caleb, Dark demons are stealing citizens."

"But that won't be a problem anymore, will it?" I say icily, glaring over at him through a burning gaze. I grit my teeth, and he glances down, regretting what he said. The rumor was true, or atleast, used to be. However, people had taken a toll from it. Mun had lost his sister to them, and several other people I hadn't had the pleasure of meeting before their taking. As usual, I am sensitive about the kingdom's well-being.

Salt flinches. "I apologize... Ebony..."

I trace my fingernail along the ivy, and in return, it curls around my finger with a thin strand of green. "I'm not sure what kind of evil takes people from their home like that. Can you imagine? You have a life set up somewhere, with friends and family and promises. Then, one day, all those promises, all that could be, all the what-if's... They're gone. Someone snatches all that opportunity right up unfairly, and they give you something much darker..." As if in reassurance, the ivy tendril squeezes my finger lightly. "What could they even do with you after taking everything? It leaves you to imagine all the evils that could be happening... The worst part is, if everything's really good at home, and everything is suddenly taken away, then what if you have no fight left? What if whatever they do doesn't matter anymore, because you're dead inside? And think of all the people you'd be leaving behind, not knowing if you're dead or alive, worrying every single moment wondering about your pain, sleep only occupied by nightmares about you... I... I don't know what kind of horrible evil does this..."

The white-haired Kalos leans over, lacing his arms around me. "I'm sorry... I don't know what else to say..." One of his pale hands begins tracing itself through the inky falls of my hair, peeking through the curtain of black. "The Dark sometimes goes to the boys' part of his world, and he tells us things... He was born when the universe and Croma were created. I'm not sure how, or why... I normally see things in shades of gray, but he is the darkest shade of black."

I lift my hand onto his and sigh. "Thank you, Salt. You aren't the best when it comes to consolation, apparently, but I appreciate the effort."

"I wouldn't want to see that beautiful face look so down." With nerve, Salt leans in to kiss me. His lips taste like fruit, suggesting he hadn't had any drinks downstairs. The skin of his mouth is soft and still, pressing as soft as flower petals against my lips, which are probably dry and rough. One of his hands finds my chin, and the kiss holds for a few seconds that feels like a dizzy eternity. For however long the kiss lasts, I see nothing, but feel a sensation of confusion and hope everywhere in my body; I could feel his kiss even in my knees. When he pulls back, he is biting his lip with and awkward smile, black eyes flickering over my face. Recovering myself and finding the world around me feeling giddy and unreal, I knit my eyebrows in confusion. "Forgive me, Ebony. I couldn't help myself. I bid you goodnight... That is, unless you'll come downstairs to dance with me?"

I give a croaking, "Yes," before he takes my hand and leads me through the door. The safety of the ivy slips away from my finger and limbs. The two of us step through the door, slip inside, and begin traveling downstairs. Everyone below is laughing, drinking, talking, kissing, or dancing. The sight of the worryless people fills me with determination. None of them are leaning against the wall, gazing off, wondering if a kill will take place in an alternate dimension somewhere else. Instead, they enjoy themselves, and it is the most splendid sight to see.

Enjoying myself is exactly what I plan to do tonight.

***

I was sitting down at the most desolate table in the lunchroom when reality came back to me. A half-eaten gravy-smothered steak was cut into bite-sized bits on my plastic plate, the mashed potatoes, also gravy-covered, had a decently sized hole in its side, and my fruit cup was untouched. My mouth swam with the flavors that I was just now tasting; falling out of my daydreams was like waking up from an actual dream. Across the table, Mary was staring at me with a pitiful look on her face.

I glared over at her, disliking how sad the look she was giving me was. "What is it? What's wrong with you?" With my fork, I picked up another bit of steak and pushed it into my mouth.

"You've just been zoning out a lot for the past few weeks," Oliver said from a few seats over, hunched over his food without eating. He was twirling his fork in the potatoes, looking down sadly at them. "You're like a zombie, Emma. Except you aren't eating people, you're just... dead."

I glanced back down at my plate, eating another mouthful so i didn't have to answer to them. I was not a cause they needed to be worried about. Whatever my wind and strange dreams were, I could get through them. And if I couldn't, I'd turn to my family for help. It wasn't that I distrusted my friends (yes, at this point in time, Oliver was my "friend"), it was just that they couldn't do anything to help, except for maybe console a little, which wouldn't do anything.

"Is your mom's baby fine?" Mary asked, most likely wondering if I was upset over the sibling-to-be. "You seemed kind of upset when you gave me the news this morning, and then you went nonchalant..."

"The baby is fine," I mumbled. As if it weren't bad enough that the two of them were bugging me over something that couldn't currently be helped, a group came over to sit by me, namely Dillan Raking's group of friends.

The black-haired boy had a huge grin on his face as he sat beside me. Delta Waters took the seat between him and Oliver, and Fango Mills sat beside Mary. Their trays hit the table with a loud, obnoxious clank. I turned to glare at Dillan, eyes skipping over his face like a stone on water. A purple headband was strapped across his forehead, under his hair, except for a sliver that peeked out from under it and followed his nose. His eyes were also a matching shade of violet, as irregularly colored as mine. The kid straightened his back to sit up as tall as me, and smiled. "How you doing, Emma?"

"Fine." I narrowed my eyes, then glanced at his tray. "How's your wife down there doing?"

Dillan Raking, for whatever reason, had a fascination with tacos. Instead of a steak, he had his favorite food on his tray (and I wasn't sure at all where he got it; it looked school-made, and we hadn't had tacos for a while. Then again, he ate one every day). His shirt, as usual, depicted a taco along with the pun "Let's taco 'bout how awesome I am". Dillan laughed at the question. "I don't think it's legal for me to marry that taco. Between you and me, she's bad in bed, too."

Mary chuckled a bit.

I put down my fork as if his presence had made me lose my appetite. "What the hell do you want from me?" The guy hardly ever spoke to me. And if he dared to try to make the rest of this school year a "popular boy and outcast girl in love" story, he was going to end up missing a testicle.

"I'm throwing a party soon and you have to be there. If I don't find you there, I will kidnap you and bring you. Is that understood?" Dillan picked up his taco - his wife - and took a huge, gaping bite out of it. "And if you try to leave, I will chain you to the couch."

"How subtle. This doesn't sound threatening at all. Why should I go to your damn party?" Warning him off before he could say anything stupid, I picked up my fork and slammed it into the meat on my plate.

"Because it's polite, and I expect no less from you. Besides, I don't see what it would hurt, do you?" Dillan asked.

"I do." I popped the food into my mouth. "Young boys thinking only about drugs and sex littering the place, drugs being passed out in the form of safe-looking drinks and foods... Those are the places where you get your life ruined. Besides, even if it was safe, it's not like there'd be anything for me there. I'd rather be in the forest with my friends on a free night. There, I actually have something to enjoy."

"You can bring your friends," Delta said.

I pulled up a forkful of potatoes and flung it his way, missing as he dodged. It hit the floor behind Oliver. "Uh-huh, yeah, I'm gonna bring my friends to ruin their lives, too."

"It's a 'Welcome Home' party," Fango offered. "A soldier is coming home."

Dillan cast the boy in glasses a thankful glance, taking another bite of his food. "Emma, you have to come... I'm serious."

"I'll come," Oliver promised, peeking his head over Delta to look at me with his big blue eyes. "You know I will protect both you and Mary if anything happens. I'll protect you two with my life."

I narrowed my eyes at Dillan. "When do you want me to ruin my life?"

"Wednesday night. Don't complain that it's a school night, either, because it's no secret that you like to spend your nights in the forest sometimes."

Mary complained, "Romeo and Juliet happens that day, though, and Emma has the role of Juliet. You should know. You tried out for Romeo."

"Oh yeah..." Delta said. "Who got the role?"

"Me," Fango piped.

Dillan sighed, adjusting his jacket. "So, what? You come after the play with whatever you wear under your costume. And if you're too tired, we'll reschedule. Please?"

I'm not sure what it was in me that whispered that it was a good idea. Whatever the stupid voice was, it got to me. I said, "We'll see," right before the bell rang.

Dillan Raking clasped my shoulder before we could get up to put our trays back, neared my ear with his mouth, and hissed to me, "You'd better come, Emma. The soldier that's coming home is you." The boy drew back, beckoned his friends, and rushed down the hall. They left as quickly as they came.

***

Some people call it the heat of battle, but in all honesty, I think it is the blood that's rushing through your body, warming your skin along with the armor covering you. The metal vibrates against the soldiers' bodies below the balcony, swords and other weapons with no name clashing against them and their enemies. I close my eyes as citizens die, lives ending against the powers of the Dark warriors. I couldn't bear to watch my subjects die.

My sister clasps her hand on my heavily armored shoulder. I turn to face her, tears welling my eyes. Her gaze is an icy diamond blue, and the bright red falls of her hair fall down past her waist, but are currently well hidden in the armor. Her thin eyebrows are dip in sadness, and I find myself hugging her. "Jupus... We all have enough land... Why do these beasts feel the need to fight over everything? Don't they understand that loved ones are dying, that families will miss them?"

Jupus shuffles through my hair with her hand. "You have a beautiful, innocent, unique way of seeing the world. I'm so sorry that has to be ruined by a horrid battle like this... Pain makes people see, I guess..."

I pull back from her, struggling not to cry. "I don't understand how the wall broke. Do you? It was so strong..."

She shakes her head. "I don't understand, either. What's worse, we have to fight in our conditions."

She's talking about our pregnancies. We're both far enough along to have well-rounded bellies and tell how many we are going to have. Jupus and a man (I don't know who it is yet, she tells me it's a surprise until they decide to bond themselves through soul, also called marriage. I highly suspect the father of her children to be Gan) have twins on the way. Salt and I (Jupus is unaware my future soulmate is Salt; I want to be as mysterious as her) have one child on the way. If our numbers weren't so low in Croma, we wouldn't have to fight. Croma gave us the choice on whether or not to go into war. However, although it was dangerous, we wouldn't stand by as our home is destroyed and our people are murdered.

"I know... I understand that the Dark minions are capable of love and understanding. After all, the Kalos are, and Croma did not create us. What kind of lies this they have to be told to kill this way?" I strap a helmet over my head, hiding everything but my mouth and my dark eyes from view. Then, I pick up my sword.

"Sometimes, they don't need to be told lies to do bad things," is all Jupus says. The Murondoes queen flexes her shoulders, and she sprouts a couple of gigantic white wings from small openings in her armor. They curve over easily in the room, half folded so that their size can make it through the hole and onto the canopy, and then into battle. A pearly feather drifts onto the floor. I copy her, letting out my own wings, which are dark, wrinkled, and clawed; imperfect, like a bat's wings. "I wish your child, and you, well, sister." Jupus squeezes herself onto the balcony.

I dip my head and look at the floor. I won't let her see the hot tears sliding down my face. "You too." I feel a gust of air as she pushes off the ground and enters battle. The sound of her clicking armor fades. I look up, hoping that my sister will come back from the fight as safe as before. Then, I leave the room, stand on the edge of the fifth story of the castle, and leap off.

The air swerves around the wrinkled membrane of my wings. Fighting tears, I sweep against the sky, monitoring the battle below, scouting for a spot I can break into and get the advantage in.

However, someone catches my attention. He stands on top of a broken piece of the wall that once separated the dimensions, white hair flowing from his shoulders like a pale cape. He has a hooked scythe in his hands, readying it for enemies. The thing he doesn't see, however, are the three shadowy figures creeping up behind him.

The memories of us flash before me. Our meeting, the first kiss, the kisses that followed, how he comforted me, and the day we realized we were pregnant... Although he may have been able to take care of himself, my body reacted on instinct. In a swift moment without decision, I streaked down towards him, sword braced over my breast. If anyone dared hurt my love, they were going to have a bad time.

In a burst of feathers, Jupus lands by my side in between Salt and the shades. Barely acknowledging the other's existence, the two of us dove to strike blows at the demons' throats. My blade sliced through one's black, leather-skinned throat. For a moment, it gurgles on its own blood before I pull my sword out, killing it. Jupus slices another dark thing in half. Then, I once, we turn to the last one standing, driving our swords on either side of its neck. I see the blood-streaked blade of my sister's sword prod through its flesh, then come out at the same time mine does.

"Things have been taken care of here, sister," Jupus says. "I believe Salt can take care of himself."

Salt smiles his thanks, rather than saying it. "I can. Thank you both." Jupus sweeps off, but I stay put, causing my soulmate to glare at me. "Why aren't you going?"

I'm taken aback by his sudden attitude. "Love, you need to be more careful. You could have died just then!"

The next moment is one I will never forget. My soulmate turns on me, lifting his scythe enough to where, if it landed, it would easily hack into the opening between my shoulder and neck. His black eyes are hot, burning with a sort of manic hate that I had never seen before. A flood of hurt and betrayal flood through me like poison in my bloodstream. "I did not almost die. I'm leading these demons. I broke the wall. I'm doing my duty as the Dark's son, sister. And my mission is complete! I was told to break in, cause break in the bloodlines of Croma - which I did by impregnating you and Jupus, and cause destruction from the inside! You must be truly stupid, loving so blindly like that, led by faith..."

I don't know what to do. My weapon drops from my hand as quickly as my knees. Had anyone else been in my position, I am sure they'd have snapped and killed him. They'd have gone mad from betrayal and driven the sword through him. But not me. I loved him too much for that. In that moment of utter chaos rippling through the battlefield and numbness ripping through me, I became so weak that I couldn't even cry. Imagine it, being betrayed by your soulmate. By your closest friend. By family.

That was the moment that I also decided to hate our child. If I lived long enough to squeeze the damnation out, that was. After all, Salt is already swinging his weapon through the air, so close to me, in a perfect position to behead me...

***

I woke in the middle of the night, where the light was made of ink. I was sweating, as if I'd actually had to fight through what I had just dreamed. Tears were hot on my face, covering my skin so that I no longer knew where I was crying from anymore. Flinging off the covers, my sweat-drenched body felt cool in the warm air. I clutched my pillow close, wondering what it would be like to actually be Ebony Kalos in that moment. What would it be like to be turned on by your best friend or the love of your life, family or someone you trusted? I only knew my mother and father, and they were such accepting, loyal people. Then, there was Oliver and Mary. In that moment, I pushed the white-haired boy out of my mind, clutching my pillow desperately. "I promise I'll tell you, Mary. I'll tell you at the party, where we have time to talk... Because I love you, sis... You must feel so betrayed by me when I shove you away like this..." Then, suddenly feeling lightheaded with desire for sleep, I murmured, "You'll never have to worry like Ebony did... I'll protect you until the end... no matter what happens..."

Mary Clarkson could not hear my vow, but I had the feeling she would have appreciated

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