"You know that you are too small for that sword right?"

Daphne jerked around to see David leaning against a tree nearby. Her breath came in short bursts and strands of white clung to her forehead. She swiped her face with her wrist carelessly.

"I know," she said and gripped the hilt again.

The shadow pushed his shoulders off the tree and came toward her. "It was Mist's right?"

Daphne felt as if someone had lashed her with a whip at the sound of his name. No one had dared to speak it around her for the past days. She didn't want to hear it, didn't want to say it. It was strange, it felt as though his name would get lost, or shatter and break on the tongue of another. Which was absolutely ridiculous, but it didn't help with the way she felt about it.

Truth be told, David reminded her a tiny bit of Mist. He was nearly as tall, also quiet and was surrounded by the same grave aura of seriousness. But that was where the similarities stopped. He had curly, brown hair and beautiful green eyes. He rarely smiled and only spoke when he had something to say. Daphne found that it was a nice characteristic, between all the noisiness from the others. 

Shadows were as shifting when it came to feelings as their bodies were in the dark. Nearly invisible. That was why she'd had to go for gold when she had interrogated Anette. The other shadow and cellmate of Celine. Who also happened to be Davids ex-fiance. The shadow who had worked for Alric. The shadow that had captured and held Daphne and Mist for a while. Until Daphne had discovered the powers that came with her golden 'personality'. The power to give energy and feelings to another. 

These days she was so on edge that the personality was brimming her mind constantly, whispering unwanted advice. The flickering flame at the back of her mind was now a blowtorch and she could kindle it into an inferno without effort. She refrained from doing so, mostly because her energy always flagged afterwards and she had to be fed more often. Kate's and Aileen's feeling were fine, they gave her strength, but it wasn't the real thing. Not what she truly wanted and craved.

Daphne watched as David came closer and reached out a hand. She got nothing from him, but the lines in his face seemed to have deepened and his jaw was always clenched. Mist was his friend, although Daphne had a bit of trouble picturing what they talked about. If they talked at all. She imagined them sitting in a bar, knocking back drinks grimly until one left, clapping the shoulder of the other, uttering a 'good talk, man' and left. A scene that would have made her laugh, if she hadn't been burning with pain and worry on the inside all the time.

"May I?" David still held out his hand and Daphne scowled while handing him her sword. The shadow took it and whirled it around. It fit him better than her, that much was obvious.

"A weapon this size you can not wield it with only one hand. You'll need to use both. Always. It wasn't made for fancy dancing and sparring. It was made to end fights. If you can, with one single blow. Someone with a lighter weapon will be a lot quicker and at an advantage. You strike, you strike true. No elaborate dodging and footwork. If you strike, you have to put in everything you've got."

Strange, Daphne remembered when she had cut off Celines wings and when she'd beheaded Raquiel. The memories were a bit hazy because she had acted on pure instinct back then. Ancient instinct if she believed the voice in her head. But she had used both hands and the force with which she had struck had been baffling. She had used her entire body. Her head flew up to David.

"Show me," she whispered hoarsely. 

The shadow shrugged and the corner of his mouth twitched. "Don't you have enough teachers already?"

Daphne cocked her head to the side. "Would you have told me all of that just now if you thought I was learning this right?"

His mouth twitched again. "Oh you have learned a great deal. But neither Kate, nor Jess, or... Nick have ever trained with swords this size." At the mention of Nick's name his frown deepened. Daphne knew that at some point something had happened between them. She knew they had a profound attraction to one another, but she had been too busy to follow up on that. And it really wasn't her business anyway. 

"I'll show you. Since both of us are obviously unable to sleep."

------------

A few hours later Daphne and David both leaned against the tree-trunk nearby and sipped water from a bottle David had brought along. It made Daphne wonder if he'd come by with the intention to teach her in the first place. But she let it rest. The things he'd taught her weren't hard to grasp, but they were exhausting. She had to repeat movements over and over again. He showed her with which blow and strike she had the most leverage and momentum. 

Her shoulders and arms burned as did her hands, pieces of skin had come off and she peeled at them. Maybe she needed gloves.

"So, what do you think of Rowans plan?" She asked into the silence.

David grunted. "Not much."

Daphne's gaze swiveled to him. "Why is that?"

"Well considering that Celine will be disowned and cast-out the moment they see her, I don't think it's a safe way to go about it. Exchanging her for Mist. Apart from that, we've been waiting for an answer now for four days. Something feels off."

Rowan had written a letter to the seraphim, explaining that they had the princess captive and would exchange her for Mist. It was a safe plan, as Jay had said; no one gets hurt, clean and without risks. It had made her listen, because she knew that almost everyone would come with her and she would put all of her friends at risk if she went to Ashenwall. It had been the only thing able to hold her back. There was no way she wanted to put anyone else in harms way that she cared about.

Daphne frowned. "She'll be cast-out? Why?"

David let his head sink back and closed his eyes. "You cut off her wings doll. She isn't seraphim anymore. In the eyes of her peers she's now lower than low. She could as well have turned mortal."

"That's cruel. Wait a minute, did you just call me doll?"

The shadow actually grinned at that. "Yup, you look like one. Small and pale, with those big eyes. And fragile, which is why everyone underestimates you."

"And you don't?"

He rolled his head from side to side, still with closed eyes. "Nah. I know that you're made of something stronger. If you weren't, Mist would have never fallen for you."

Daphne swallowed at that sentence. Had he really? This was so stupid. He was being held somewhere against his will, they had stolen him from her. And all she could think about was; did he feel the same about her as she did about him? She was pathetic! 

"They all know what you've done and all of them are surprised at what you did. But then they look at you and start worrying, they tell themselves that you got lucky and that they need to protect you." David opened his eyes and his mouth twitched again. "All because you look fragile. So yes, why not doll?"

Daphne had to smile in spite of her situation. "You shouldn't say that when Nick is around."

David frowned and she could see that he wanted to deny their involvement for a second, the he leaned his head back again. "See? I almost forgot there who I'm talking to. But I don't think she would care what I called you. Not anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about? When you saw each other for the first time in the foyer, I was nearly blasted off my feet by the attraction you two have."

He scoffed. "Yeah, but then Anette showed up and Nick hasn't spoken a word to me since then."

"Explain it to her then. Explain how the community of shadows works. That you had no choice and that the only choice you made was to run away and start a new life. And that that choice led you to her."

David did a double take at her. "That simple huh?"

"Yup, that simple."

He chuckled softly. "I like you, doll." He rummaged through the pockets of his leather jacket and fished out a pack of Luckies. After offering her one and taking one himself he lit up both cigarettes.

Daphne sank back inhaling and listening to the soft crackling glow, eat at the tobacco and paper. "I like you too," she mused. Her lids grew heavy and she smiled. Maybe this time the exhaustion would work. Maybe she could finally sleep.

--------------

Deep darkness surrounded her. But she knew she was dreaming. She groaned. Oh no. No, no, no! It felt exactly like one of the dreams Toph had pulled her into. This was bad. He was dead and if any other nightmare had her in his clutches she was going to be so pissed. She had finally fallen asleep and some idiot dared to take her along on some fucked up dream-journey? Oh she would tell him!

Spreading out her arms she tried to find something to hold onto. She squinted to pierce the darkness, but came up with nothing. Taking a step forward she felt that the ground was solid, it smelled like cold stone and a bit moist. The soft plop, plop of  dripping water reached her ears and then she heard footsteps. They got closer and she steeled herself for whoever was coming her way. 

A metallic clang sounded nearby and a heavy door was opened to her right. Blinding light filled out the frame and she had to squint at the light. A flickering torch entered the room, accompanied by a man and a woman. They didn't seem to notice her and stepped forward. Daphne took a look at the room and gasped when she saw a figure on the floor. His arms were tied around a large wooden post and he sat on the cold ground. His head lolled on his chest but she would know the shine of that black hair anywhere.

"Mist," she whispered. He didn't react. The two, she guessed they were seraphim, didn't seem to notice her either. The man kicked Mist's legs and Daphne growled. She stalked over and sank down next to the sephyr. But when she tried to touch him, her hands went right through him. Dang it! What was this?

Her heart bled at seeing him like this. It was heavy in her chest and nearly overwhelming. Just seeing him, being near to him made her tremble with fear and pain. Pain and fear for him, pain and fear for herself. She swallowed against the onslaught of what she was feeling. There was relief at seeing him alive, but she was so unbelievably scared at what they would do to him. 

He was bruised and battered. His shoulder was still gaping from where Celine had struck him. Daphne noticed something white in the wound. Salt. Oh these bastards. It was no wonder that it hadn't healed naturally, the salt kept it open. She looked up to the two fire-angels and hissed a warning, but alas, they couldn't hear her.

The man bent over and jerked Mist up by his shoulders. No sound escaped those beautiful lips of his. He didn't jerk when the man pressed down on his wounded shoulder. His blue eyes just glowered. dark, dangerous and unsettling. As he was heaved to his feet Mist glared past the man at the woman accompanying him. 

"The queen has a question for you," the man said.

That woman was the seraphim queen? Too bad that Daphne got no feelings from anyone here in this strange place. She wanted to know what went on inside Mist. If he was holding up okay, mentally at least. She could see that he was in bad shape, or his body was.

"Does she now?" His voice was like sandpaper and rang with a chilly rage that Daphne understood completely.

The woman stepped closer and leaned to Mist. She was a beauty with dark-red hair and innocent features. Her hair was curled elaborately atop her head and fastened with a slender, silver crown. 

"Do they really have my daughter?" She asked. "Will they give her up in exchange for you?"

"I would hope not. Your daughter is a deranged piece of work, did you know that?"

The queen's eyes lit up in a fiery ember and she nodded at the man. Who balled his fist and punched Mist across the face. His head was flung to the side and Daphne lunged for the man. But she soared right through him and shook with unchecked fury as she got up again. That asshole, oh he had it coming!

A chuckle froze her and she looked at Mist. His shoulders shook with the sound.

"So you do know."

The man punched him again. And again, and again. Daphne could only stand there and do nothing. What remained of her heart splintered into a million pieces and nearly made her cave in. The pain was too much. She had to do something. But there was nothing. Not a thing she could do. So she pressed her claws into her palms until her knuckles turned white and blood seeped from between her fingers. She never looked away, she stood and stared at Mist being beaten by that prick. She owed him this, every piercing, searing scrap of pain she felt on his behalf. If it tore her apart, she wouldn't look away.

This feeling of helplessness tightened her throat to the point where it became hard to breathe. She screamed and hollered, but it did nothing. No one heard her.

When the man finally stopped, heaving and sweating, his knuckles bloody and torn, Mist chuckled again. He spat out blood and looked at the queen.

"That all you got? No wonder most of you were so easy to kill. No spine, no fire. Isn't that ironic in itself?"

What the hell was he doing? Why was he goading them into hurting him?

"We should just kill this idiot and be done with it, your highness," the man said.

The queen shook her head. "No." She smiled sweetly. "I wonder what would make Mistrael the seraphim slayer, a man that has spent his life surviving and avoiding our attacks, talk to distract me." She crossed her arms, making the silver bracelets on her arms tingle. She smiled and tipped a finger to her pursed lips.

"Because that is what you're doing, isn't it? You try to keep the spotlight on yourself, goading me and provoking. So I wonder, what is it that you don't want me to know?"

Mist grinned, with his bloody teeth and looking up through his hair, he looked dangerous doing so. "Like I would need to hide anything from you. Doesn't the legend say it all?"

"Ah yes, the legend. Mistrael the loner, the one man army. Mistrael the death on shadowy wings. But you know what? Maybe that has changed. The last time we both met your eyes were empty. They burned with anger, as they do now, but they were empty. Now I can see something in them. Longing I think, no it's more than that. Yearning? Tell me Mistrael, what do you yearn for? Or is it a someone?"

"I don't need anyone, you should know that."

"Hm," the queen smiled. "I don't believe you." She leaned in closer. "You took my husband, Celines father. You made us both suffer. I promise you, you will suffer the same. If there is anyone you care about I will find her, or him. One never knows with you freedom types. And I will make you watch as I personally torture and kill them." Her wings ignited and threw yellow light against the walls.

Mist glowered and jerked forward, hitting her nose with his forehead. An ugly crack sounded through the cell and the queen stumbled back, holding her nose which was spurting blood. The man leaped at Mist and punched every part of his body he could reach.

Daphne cried out as tears filled her eyes and she was, once more, forced to watch.

"Stop it," the queen breathed. The man let go of Mist and stepped back.

"Pain doesn't affect him, you tried that remember? Send soldiers out, use any spy necessary to learn about who he has been with in the past weeks. I'll send word to the captors of Celine. I bet the one I'm looking for is part of them. We'll set up a meeting and then spring a trap."

Rouven nodded and kicked at Mist one last time, then he took the torch and followed his queen from the room.

In the darkness Daphne knelt next to Mist, her tears came uncontrollably now. She was with him, but couldn't touch him, couldn't feel him, she couldn't even smell him. And he had no idea that she was here, with him.

"Fuck," he uttered, breathing heavily. He pulled on his binds, that weren't budging and groaned in frustration. Trying harder he roared in frustration as nothing changed. 

Daphne tried to stroke his face, but she didn't even see what she was doing and she knew she couldn't touch him, but she didn't stop. Crying she sat next to him, every breath and sound from him tore at her. 

"It's okay. I'm here, it's okay." Her words were blurred with tears and sobs but she talked to him until her voice was nearly gone.

"I'll get you out of here, I promise, I swear. I love you." Those words jerked her upright and she swallowed. But she knew they were true. She did love him, with everything she had and everything she was. And he needed her. He needed Daphne, not this blubbering mess she was now. Pulling herself up she rubbed her face with both hands. Putting distance between him and her was physically painful but she forced one foot in front of the other.

How did she get out of here? Toph had once told her to use the door. But would it open? She shook her head, couldn't hurt to try. Daphne fumbled her way along the stone wall to the metal door and pushed. It opened, or felt like it, but somehow she knew that in reality nothing happened. She glanced back into the darkness.

"I'll be back for you. Hold on." Then she went through the door.

A/N Okay. So what's happening here? Who's got a clue? How is Daphne able to travel in dreams?  We got to see Mist again! But the queen has a plan to sniff out Daphne. How is our little reaver going to act? What will she do? Was her pain brought across good enough? Did Mist act the way you thought he would?

How did you like her little lesson with David? On that note; how did you like David? 

So many questions! Thanks for reading kittens. Have a good one!