Rain dripped down the large glass window that encircled half of the small study room. A table with a set of tea was set against it while the two men sat at either end. The fox shifted his glasses gently, studying a parchment carefully while the other man was sitting quietly, head turned to stare out the window at the drops of water moving down. Glancing down, he would see soldiers moving about in the courtyard, assembling out or orders taken and given. Word had arrived that the battle for Ceres had failed, and a quarter of the men had stayed behind for a mysterious reason. Rumor had it that the two treacherous generals were fighting there and that had won the battle. It didn't hide the fact that a surprise advance from the Faholgal army aided the city.

Two thousand men were stranded with no orders to take from a leader, since both Boursault brothers were acclaimed dead. It was an inconvenience, and some Colonel or another was being sent to get the army back on track. More information of what happened were on it's way back.

A slender hand reached out, taking hold of the teacup and brought it to his lips, grateful he was warm rather than having to be outside in the dreadful weather. But the lost battle or the politics of it didn't bother him. It was another matter entirely, one he had been quietly thinking to himself for a while.

"There has been much conflict on who shall be ranked General with the loss of the Boursault's. The soldiers are getting restless on who they may follow next." Dr. Mowinckel addressed, sighing as he straightened his back against his seat.

"The Ministry has lost a few hundred to Ceres while the others stayed. They say it was because General Antonis was there. We live amongst superstitious imbeciles." Fyren noted, taking another sip from his cup as his purple hues remained focused outside.

A chuckle came from Denzel as he reached for his own cup, "We live in such times. If the men cannot believe in the powers of magic, then what else can they have? Fate? Destiny?"

"I believe they would call it hope."

"Hope. What a practical lie. Everything has a plan."

"Poor planning could cause the effects of hope in a cosmic sense." Fyren smirked, eyes lowering as the cup was brought to his lips. Denzel quirked a brow before removing his glasses, taking out a handkerchief and began to rub the glass.

"I suppose it's more reason to plan carefully."

Fyren set his cup down onto the table silently, another glance out the window taken. After a moment, Denzel went back to his work, scribbling down on a paper with a quill.

"...I must ask you something, doctor." Fyren said after a while, purple eyes drifting towards the fox who rose his eyes in curiosity.

"Yes?"

"Would you say you've had the sensation of meeting the one who would kill you?"

Denzel blinked to the obscure question, setting his pen down as he straightened himself, reflecting on this for a time. A thoughtful frown curved his lips, "I'm afraid I don't understand. Perhaps you mean when you see your killer's face at the moment?"

"No, not like that. Before you're killed." Fyren explained, placing an elbow against the chair arm, leaning his jaw into his palm. "Perhaps you'll just chance on seeing them in the crowd, a moment in time where it suddenly dawns on you that perhaps you've just seen the one who would murder you when the time comes."

"As some epiphany?"

"Something like that." Fyren smirked gently.

Denzel paused, lowering his eyes as he thought, "...Have..." he lifted his gaze, unsure of the question, "...you?"

"Well I hardly see the reason of discussing this if I hadn't. But you seemed a credible source to speak this matter over as a doctor.."

"You are the one with the ability to see memories..." Denzel muttered. "Perhaps this is beyond mere medical understandings."

Fyren smiled, "So you are saying this is outside the scope of 'practical plans of reality'?"

Denzel frowned, his argument before caught twisted as baseless. Nothing prodded him more than losing an intellectual debate of ideals. "If I believed that there was no basis of reality or general plan, then I would have become a magician and not a man of science." he replied a bit disgruntled, turning to look out the window. Fyren chuckled, closing his eyes calmly.

"It's strange how a magician and a doctor are allies."

"That is true. But now I'm curious. The killer you've mentioned before..."

"Ah, yes. All in all a good man. Doesn't like to see others hurt. He'd make a good baker or something like that." Fyren explained leisurely, motioning his hand a bit. Denzel stared back nearly dumbfounded.

"I--Didn't expect such a...description."

"He's one of those...put in the wrong place at the wrong time sorts."

"Ah..."

"But..." Fyren added, opening his eyes to glance out the window. "When you look in his eyes there's a hidden killer under all that good."

Denzel smirked gently, tilting his head. "So what do you say? Are you disappointed?"

"Hah. Actually, I'm glad. It only means that I can leave a mark before the deed is done."

"Knowing you, it'll be a deep mark."

"I've already done damage to him. He only needs to return to finish it."

"He would come to you?" Denzel asked, quirking a brow.

Fyren smiled quietly as though some inner thought were amusing. "...Isn't that what a killer does?"


-----


Aeth had laid Aidan down on the spare bed of the inn. Outside there was a rush of bodies filling in of the wounded, and space was rare. However, Aeth insured the quiet room from the landlady with a few yellow metals. He didn't suppose she had ever gotten that much all at once in her life. She had even granted him the largest room.

Making sure Aidan lay flat, he began removing the blood soaked shirt, expecting to do some basic medical work. What he found surprised him. There was only a deep scar running along the side of Aidan's stomach where the blood indicated. Aeth carefully thumbed it, trailing it down curiously before he looked to Aidan's face. It was clear that the cat had undergone sever blood loss. His face had lost color and he was very cool to the touch. He wasn't breathing well either. That dolt. The tiger should have taken the boy to shelter rather than clutch at him in the street.

Aeth let out an irritated sigh before he went on to fetch cleaning materials.

----


It was dark all around him, but he could see another man seated in a chair across from him with a patient look. Suddenly he felt so angry he began shouting.

"---I hate you! You did this to me! (fzzzz)----Why? --Couldn't just (fzzz)---" the rest was a buzz in the ear and soon Aidan stopped, finding it harder to breathe. Soon he felt his stomach curl in shock as he realized the man had tears on his cheek, but was still smiling.

The man's lips parted in a curved smile, "---(fzzz)." A grin.

A feeling of fear settled in him as Aidan stared at the man, understanding what was meant. Then he wanted to get away.

The man continued moving his lips for a prolonged time but only a mixture of a buzz and bubbling noise was heard. This time Aidan couldn't understand it. He couldn't leave either. It felt as if his legs were fastened to the darkness of the ground. After some struggle to move, Aidan looked up and noticed he couldn't see the man's face clearly because his eyes were closed.

----

-----

Silence surrounded Debalora as she stood within a wide open field aside from the gentle wind. The wind blew the tall grass around her, her hair softly dancing behind her as the warm breeze ran through it. The sun was high in the cloudless, blue sky and brightly filled the endless field with light and warmth.

For a long time, Debalora stood in the middle of the field without care or worry. She closed her eyes and lifted her face up to bask in the warmth the sun. A whisper lightly echoing through the wind was finally heard. It was very faint the first few times, but gradually became louder calling her name.

The voice was strangely familiar and continued to say her name until it grew loud enough to sound as if the person stood just behind her. Debalora quickly turned with brightened features, her hair still waving with the wind and lightly into her face.

Standing casually, several yards away, Vincent stood with a kindly smile; never turning his gaze away from her. Everything about him was welcoming her to come to him, the feeling he gave when she turned to him, the way the warm wind blew into his direction and caused the grassed to lightly angle toward him. His smile was gentle and Debalora could feel it was what she was supposed to do.... as if all of her worries would fade away completely if she went to him.

As a hand raised to pull her hair back, another voice quickly echoed louder and quickly made her turn around again. The wind cooled and pressed against her face as she looked back.

About the same distance as Vincent was to Debalora but in the opposite direction, Antonis stood alone with the wind blowing against his back and past him. A concerned look was on his face as he watched Debalora until it calmed to a smile as she continued to watch him.

The wind grew colder as she faced him and blowing more rapidly; regret quickly growing as she became chilled. But she couldn't turn away from Antonis, even when everything was against her and the wind blowing harder. That same welcoming feeling was coming from Antonis, but everything told her to turn away.

But with everything against her, something inside her forced her to keep facing the restless wind and toward Antonis. Antonis' features were surprisingly calm as the wind grew around him and tossed his hair rapidly into his face as he reached a hand towards her. He was fine, he gave a sense of happiness just to have Debalora be turned towards him. And Debalora felt that happiness too.

An agonizing pain suddenly coursed through Debalora's entire body and caused her to fall to her knees in pain. The longer she looked toward Antonis, the more the pain grew.. Until she looked back toward Vincent, who still stood calmly and watched her with a reassuring smile. Warm quickly grew within her and welcomed her to him but... It didn't feel right.

She wanted to be with Vincent and everything told Debalora to go towards him, but she couldn't abandon Antonis... even though everything worked against her. She felt as if he abandoned him to the cold, relentless wind... she would lose him forever.

Before Debalora could move to Vincent or Antonis, the wind grew stronger and more violently; whirling around her with the loud howls of rushing air. Painful images also flashed before her. Brandon being taken and dying, Voltrick's beast attacking... Everything seemed to spin around her as the air pushed her toward the ground and kept her from standing. Narrowed, stinging eyes desperately tried to look back to up Vincent, then to Antonis. Both Vincent and Antonis stood where they were; uneffected by the wind that rushed and whirled around Debalora.

Something else caught Debalora's attention as she tried to overcome the wind. Wary, narrowed eyes looked away from Vincent and Antonis to barely see a figure a ways before her. A female dressed in white calmly approached her, unaffected by the wind or grass.

After approaching Debalora, a black furred hand was offered forward. Debalora was hesitant at first, but she weakly raised her hand and took hold of the stranger's. The wind suddenly calmed as the feline helped Debalora to stand, as if everything relied solely upon the touch of this person in white.

Debalora's vision was blurred at first from the violent winds from before, but after a moment her vision cleared and she was able to see who stood before her. Green eyes widened as she saw the stranger wasn't a stranger at all... but the person she saw in front of her was herself... dressed in white and a calm expression on her face. "Who..." Debalora attempted to speak. "You are..."

"Only you can make the choice of where your life will go." The one dressed in white quickly said, her voice echoing as if riding upon the calm wind. "What is right, what is better, and what you are meant to be... You can choose to live more than one path or stay with one. But if you do not choose, the world will choose it for you.... but know your destiny and what you were meant to be."

Before Debalora could respond, the one in white released Debalora's hand and stepped back. But as she let go, the violent winds suddenly erupted around Debalora and the painful memories flashed before her; pressing her to the ground again. The winds and pains were stronger this time and without the help of the one in white, she couldn't stand up again.

Desperately, she turned back to Vincent and Antonis. Both stood uneffected, but extended a hand forward welcoming Debalora to them. The painful memory of a burning city forced her eyes to tighten closed and her head to lower. She tried to open her eyes, but was met with Aidan dying in Voltrick's arms. Debalora weakly looked foward with winced features toward where she saw herself in white..

The one in white had now stood several yards away, but now there was a mass of people behind her. Some were injured, some were happy, some sad. Pain coursed through her as another memory flashed through her. She saw herself giving all of her power into the fire to save the people of the town.

The pain increased quickly, causing Debalora to lay upon the ground and wrapping her arms around her legs desperately. The pain coursed throughout her entire body, weakening her until she had no strength left to give... then everything grew dark until darkness surrounded her completely.

-------

"Debalora?"

Vincent touched her cheek, motioning her face towards him from where she laid on the bed with him sitting on the edge over her. Just now she had made a pained expression. He knew she must be dreaming or...he wondered if she was hurting. A subtle sigh emitted as Vincent straightened himself, slowly removing his hand from her as he sat looking down at his wife's face.

He waited.

-----


fzzz...

fzzzz....

fzzzzz....clink.

Aidan opened his eyes, his side lying on the ground with nothing before him and a wall pressed against his back. His lips parted slightly as he looked down, finding his body as it had been after the dungeon. His arms were bruised like his chest, the four stab wounds open again. A hand moved slowly to touch over it before his eyes trailed to find a knife lying just before him. It was strange how it gleamed in the darkness. Aidan's fingers stretched to grasp it, holding it tightly in a fist as he struggled to press himself up.

He got as far as resting on his knees until he heard that buzzing noise. Aidan looked up and was met with green eyes staring down at him hard, the large form seeming to loom over him as Voltrick looked from Aidan to the knife. A disgruntled frown appeared on Voltrick's face, and before Aidan could say anything, he caught a glimpse of that man, sitting behind Voltrick.

A small gasp was let out as Aidan set his sight on the man, moving to stand until he felt his wrist taken hold of tightly. After a wince, Aidan looked down and saw Voltrick holding on with a warning look. Gritting his teeth, Aidan fought against the grip, struggling to loosen it as it felt like the hand would break Aidan's wrist before it was suddenly gone. Without hesitation, he quickly stepped up to the man and grabbed the cloth over his head, pulling it away as he rose the knife. What he saw stunned him with a surprised look. The man was Jonas, but he was oddly still, like a doll.

"Got you."

Aidan began to turn to the voice before he choked, finding two hands holding his throat as he and the other stumbled back. The knife was dropped as the two of them fell to the ground, Aidan fighting underneath. Who he saw above him was the beige furred cat with long silken hair and maddening purple eyes as he grinned. Aidan grit his teeth as he fought for breath, glaring up at Fyren in confusion.

"This isn't a dream anymore," Fyren smiled, leaning closer, "But it would be a shame if you died in your sleep though."

Soon Fyren's eyes began to glow and Aidan's claws were scratching the darkness. Suddenly they caught on something and ripped the black away, causing the both of them to fall into the parting crack into a bright white. Aidan felt the hands release from his throat, gasping as his eyes were shut to the sudden light and soon felt his back hit something cold and somewhat soft. Blinking his eyes open, he found he was lying in snow, flakes slowly landing on his face. Lifting himself up, Aidan looked around, the quietness unsettling before green eyes saw a trail of red in the snow, a limp body at the source and a familiar tiger clutching it. Aidan stood slowly as he watched a younger Voltrick hold desperately to Vincent, hearing the cries causing Aidan's stomach to sink in pain.

Suddenly his eyes widened as a strange feeling arose in him, turning quickly just in time to avoid a blunt piece of wood from hitting him. Fyren stood at the end of it, laughing quietly as he looked at Aidan interestingly. Aidan took a few steps back before he noticed the blood on Fyren's hands.

"You--" he muttered as a realization dawned on him, "You killed him..."

"Someone had to." Fyren replied, lifting the wood over his shoulder. Aidan snarled as his hands clutched before he charged at Fyren, ramming himself to hoop his arms around Fyren's stomach, bringing the two of them to the ground. Just before they landed, the scenery shattered around them and it grew dark.

Aidan landed hard face down on a stone ground, groaning gently as he pressed himself up before inspecting his surroundings.

He was hugged against the stone wall, knees brought up against his chest with clothes that barely hung on. He was shaking violently with a scared expression especially to those who stood beside him while he held a bowl of stew in his hands. He was so hungry but his fear kept him from moving, unsure glances darting back and forth.

"Eat it!" A soldier ordered, causing Aidan to tense, moving a hand to grip the spoon. A shaken hand rose it, spilling some of the soup as he brought it to his mouth. Just before he could bite down, a boot suddenly kicked the bowl out of his hands, crying in surprise as he watched the soup spill all over the floor. As a twisted feeling in his stomach tightened, Aidan slowly rose his gaze up to the two soldiers.

"...Why did you spill your food?" the soldier asked patiently after a pause, causing Aidan to press himself against the wall as though to get away.

"I--I'm sorry..." he whispered shakenly, eyes dampening as he felt the tension climax, looking up for mercy.

He cried as a hand snatched the back of his hair, pulling up and causing Aidan to straighten his back and neck, eyes shut in pain with hands motioning over the wrist of the soldier's hand. "Then finish it!!" he shouted before slamming Aidan's face down onto the ground, causing the cat to cry in pain as his eyes shut, feeling the lukewarm liquid under his face. "Don't waste any of it!"

Aidan squinted an eye open as he barely managed to lift his chin with the hand still gripping the roots of his hair. He was already crying by the fear and humiliation as his mouth parted, moving his tongue reluctantly to lick at the small pool of soup against the ground. He bit a potato lump and tried to swallow it. His stomach felt like it was eating itself and the food was a large lump in his throat. After several failed attempts to swallow, Aidan coughed against the ground.

He felt his hair jerked up, yelping as he was brought up again by the soldier.

"You can't even finish!"

Aidan whimpered, shivering as so much emotional stress bore down on him. "I'm sorry--" he said before feeling a hard slap strike his face.

"I'll have to teach you proper manners."

Green eyes widened to stare at the soldier before the larger cat turned, pulling Aidan by the hair across the floor, causing the other to clutch at the arm, legs sprawling to keep up if he didn't want his hair pulled out.

"I'm sorry!" Aidan cried, struggling as he was pulled closer and closer to the parted door that led to a dark room. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please! I'm sorry!"

Every protest was ignored as the door shut, and by that time, Aidan was covering his mouth, a sickening feeling in his stomach as he was nearly toppled over having to relive that memory. He began to hear himself crying out and started to stagger to a stand, his back turned to the scene with shut eyes.

"This is called a suppressed memory." A voice said behind him. Aidan whipped around with widened eyes to find Fyren standing where the soup was, hands behind his back in a patient manner. "You inadvertently caused us to go deep within your mind when you rammed into me."

Aidan said nothing, only looking at Fyren from where he was against the wall. He wasn't even glaring.

Fyren glanced down, lifting his boot slightly to examine the soup underneath. Saying nothing in return, he only looked back at Aidan. It suddenly dawned on him that Fyren had just seen his memory, the one that hurt so much and what Aidan never wanted anyone to know of. His teeth grit as Aidan's fur stood on end, hearing the cries continue in the other room.

"Get out of my head." his voice seeped darkly in a low growl, claws tightening their grip in the wall.

Fyren didn't hesitate to step forward, a slow walk taken towards Aidan. "You invaded my own memories and found out a dark secret. I would call it fair."

"It's not the same."

"An eye for an eye."

Suddenly a man was lying to the side on the floor with a blood stained chest. It caused Fyren to stop with a stiffened back as he stared at the figure with a look of recollection and pain. "...Damian..." he whispered. Aidan glanced down to the murdered man for a moment before he felt Fyren's gaze on him. Returning it, he found the cat with a hard glare on his features.

"What they did to me...what you had them do to me was beyond any measure of cruelty." Aidan furrowed his brow, "...and I'm..." he clutched his fist, "I'm going to make you pay."

For a moment Fyren was silent before a small smile appeared, stepping up to Aidan, "I look forward to it..." he said near Aidan's face, "...that is, if you can reach me."

Aidan felt himself moving his clawed hand to strike Fyren at the throat and then everything went black as a deep burn set in his eyes.

------

Fyren's form jerked suddenly, gasping before coughing up a small amount of blood. A hand clutched his throat, leaning forward in strain as an alerted Denzel came to his side.

"F-Fyren?!"

After a few more coughs, Fyren beckoned Denzel away with a small wave of his hand. "It's--fine. Everything is fine." a few more breathes later and Fyren settled back in his chair, closing his eyes quietly. "...Actually, it went better than expected."

-------

Aidan wreathed in the bed, crying as his hands pressed both eyes as it felt like they were being burned out. Aeth had already set to try and control Aidan with a confused expression. One moment the boy was gritting his teeth gently and now wailing as though in agony.

"Hart! What's wrong with you?!" Aeth tried, moving to clutch Aidan's wrists.

"My--my eyes!" he cried, legs moving weakly under him. He awoke to find his body completely weakened, barely able to lift his legs off the bed. But this burning--!

-------

Voltrick had been silently waiting in the hall outside of Aidan's room. He sat in a wooden chair, leaning forward to allow his elbows to prop onto his knees.

The tiger thoughtfully sat outside, staring forward at nothing in particular. A few people passed by as he silently waited, but they all ignored him as they did their duties to help the other injured within the inn.

An ear twitched lightly as shouts were heard within the room. First Aeth, then Aidans. Voltrick stood and turned when he heard Aidan. After reaching the door and opening it, he worriedly looked inside. His eyes widened seeing Aidan move around and cover his eyes in pain.

"What's wrong with him?!"

----

A deep breath quietly broke the silence of the room as Debalora took a deep breath through her nose. Her features were still pained and winced as she tried to wake up and open her eyes. Being extremely weakened, she could only wince her eyes open to narrow slits and barely moved her head.

She wanted to move and look around, she knew she was in a bed but couldn't tell where she was... The last place she remembered being was before the burning cathedral. But she couldn't move, it hurt to open her eyes wider and she didn't have the strength to even to move her arms and legs.

Seeing Debalora stir, Vincent gently placed his hand on her shoulder, keeping her against the bed.

"Deba?" he said faintly, leaning over her to see whether she was awake.

----

Aeth turned to see Voltrick enter the room. "I'm not sure." he answered, looking back down as he held onto Aidan's wrists. Seeing the side of Aidan's face that wasn't covered by his hands, pained tears were on his cheeks as he groaned.

"What's gotten into you?" Aeth said, pulling at Aidan's wrists to remove his hands. Aidan would have thought it were an ironic question later. His hands finally lifted, Aeth looked at Aidan's face first with a hardened look before his eyes widened. What was once emerald eyes were glowing. Aidan winced to the pain, but found his surroundings to be a gray blur with two red bodies in the room. Frightened by this, Aidan pressed away from Aeth with widened eyes.

"G-Get away!" he yelled, lifting himself weakly against the wall. He must still be dreaming!

"What--What's happened to--" Aeth was caught off suddenly just as he took a step closer, first his eyes widening before the rest of his body stiffened. A sound emitted from his throat before a hand tried rising to his neck. He couldn't breath! A choked sound was let out as his features contorted in confusion, realizing he couldn't move the rest of his body. What was going on? He managed to look up, finding Aidan's bright gaze still on him in a glare.

Debalora took another deep breath and closed her eyes briefly as she felt someone touching her shoulder, but weakly opened them as her name was said. She wasn't able to see past the open slits of her eyes, even then it wasn't completely clear.

"Wh.." she barely muttered as she tried to summon enough strength to speak. "Wh.. where..." Her mouth closed briefly as she swallowed dryly. "Where am I?" She paused as she closed her eyes tightly, the light of the room hurting her eyes. "H-how...long have I been asleep?"

----


Voltrick's eyes widened and his entire body tensed in the doorway as he watched everything unfold before him. What was happening to Aidan... no... What was he doing to Aeth...?

Frightened ears folded back as the tiger cautiously entered the room, looking from Aeth to Aidan... Aidan's glowing eyes. Why were they glowing?

"Aidan..." Voltrick called out as he approached. Maybe if he distracted Aidan... maybe he'll stop...whatever he's doing. "Aidan, what are you doing?" he raised his voice a bit.

Aidan kept still, his lips slowly lifting into a sneer as he focused his gaze on the still red form closest to him. He wanted it to go away...wanted-- His ears twitched as he heard his name in a familiar voice, his furrowed brows smoothing slightly. Voltrick? He turned his gaze, looking around before he heard himself being called again, the other red figure stepping closer. After his distraction, the grip on Aeth was loosened suddenly, causing the dog to cough, gripping his neck as he gasped for air.

Aeth took a few steps back, an uncertain gaze lifting up to Aidan before it exchanged to Voltrick. By the look on the tiger's face, this was a new discovery to everyone. This group had all sorts of surprises, didn't it?

With uneven breathes, Aidan tried to calm himself down, looking down at first in confusion. Voltrick was here...his voice was so close. Aidan lifted his eyes, seeing the red figure come ever closer slowly, causing his brow to wrinkle uneasily. "...Voltrick?" he asked, looking at the silhouette's head.

He remembered what he saw in Fyren's memories with the snow covered field with Voltrick clutching to Vincent. The red figure's head pulsed and suddenly Aidan was there again in mind, seeing it happen again clearly.

Aidan was standing away from Voltrick and Vincent, and he saw Fyren standing far away with a bloodied knife, looking at the two of them silently. What he didn't know was that after the pulse, Voltrick was connected in mind, seeing Fyren's memory as well in his mind's eye. It was a short flash compared to what Aidan had gone through before, coming back to the room with the two red figures, his eyes still glowing. He shut them tightly, burning again.

"What--Why am I--?" Aidan groaned, pressing his hands against his eyelids. He must be seeing things...but...was what happened with Fyren real?

Aeth took a few steps back as he saw Aidan's almost delirious state continue before he headed towards the door. "I'm getting assistance." he mentioned, not bothering to look at Voltrick before going out the door. This was beyond them. He had to find someone with magic abilities.

Voltrick's entire body stiffened as some foreign sensation entered his mind. His eyes widened as the room around him suddenly flashed to a snow filled area. It felt like some kind of dream or delusion. He felt like he was there, standing in the snow outside, but he couldn't be. Voltrick was inside the inn, staring at Aidan as he...

Voltrick's gaze moved involuntarily to follow a trail of blood before it suddenly flashed again and he saw himself holding Vincent, dying in his arms. Burdened breaths exhaled and his features winced emotionally before his gaze shifted again.

The tiger's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw what was revealed to him. This wasn't his own memories being forced before him, this was something else. This was someone else's point of view, someone else's memory forcing itself into Voltrick's mind and striking him with the truth. Fyren...

The snow around Voltrick suddenly flashed back to the room and jerked Voltrick's entire body. A heavy breath quickly released itself as Voltrick's widened eyes lowered aimlessly toward the ground.

After all this time... Voltrick thought as he remembered the day Vincent died in his arms. Vincent never said who stabbed him He was so distracted with the moment, he couldn't even look around himself. And then he smelt Judas' scent in the air... Voltrick knew it had to be him. Everything led to it being only him. I killed Judas because I thought he killed Vincent

But it was Fyren... And he watched with the bloodied dagger in his hand as Voltrick cried out in sorrow. Fyren killed Vincent, not Judas. "Fyren..." Voltrick said lowly, his voice rumbling. The tiger's brow lowered and his eyes closed tightly as anger quickly grew within him. "....killed Vincent."

Aidan's shoulders slumped as exhaustion took hold of him. After a moment, his hands lowered from his face, eyes half lidded and the glow gone, revealing only his green eyes again. What he saw...he knew Voltrick was there, as though he took him inside his mind. Glancing up, he clearly saw the room at last and Voltrick standing still in the center.

"...Voltrick." he called silently, his head tilting against the wall tiredly. His body felt limp from the blood loss, having only the strength to move before from panic. But...it wasn't a dream was it? He didn't want to think about how...he was mentally tired anyway. That 'struggle' he had with Fyren in his dreams and now Voltrick. Aidan didn't want to go back to sleep in case that man was there waiting. He focused for now on what he remembered...but it kept going back to that dungeon. There was a blank on the memory...but he saw Fyren and a dead man on the floor. Instantaneously, at that moment in the mind, Aidan knew who he was. He felt what Fyren felt when he looked at him. Voltrick was in the mix of emotion.

"Voltrick..." he said again, this time a bit louder, his eyes lowered at the blankets, "...Do you...know Fyren's brother?"

Voltrick's features remained tight as he slowly opened his eyes when Aidan spoke. He kept his gaze narrowed toward the floor, refusing to look up even if Aidan appeared to be fine.

Fyren's brother? ...Voltrick remembered him as if he just saw him the day before... he also remembered how he looked flat on his back with his chest ripped to shreds and his face a bloody mess. That image has haunted him since he was a child. Even after everything that Voltrick has been through... that moment will always stand out above the rest. Because that moment has defined everything that has happened in Voltrick's life. ...Because Fyren made it that way.

"Damien..." Voltrick quietly stated, narrowing his gaze further. "I told you about him back in that dungeon" he ended in a growl.

Aidan frowned as he tilted his chin, hardened eyes set on the blankets before him. He remembered too...what Voltrick said there and at the inn after they escaped. That man...Damian...had become a watermark for Voltrick and everything that had happened to him. It all began after that. A brother's revenge had brought such complete destruction, it was spreading out to everyone. And now he had gotten between these two enemies. Aidan grit his teeth to a thought in frustration.

"Do you..." he tried speaking, a hand clutching the blanket as he lowered his head, refusing to look up at Voltrick, "...What...am I to you?" he finished slowly, seeing a white field.

Voltrick's ears folded back as he kept his gaze down toward the ground and features hardened in angered thought. He honestly didn't want to talk to anyone right now, not after that 'memory' was forced into his mind. He knew it had to be from Aidan... The way his eyes glowed as he choked Aeth and putting other memories into someone else's mind. But Voltrick wasn't sure who the memory belonged to, Aidan wasn't there when it happened... Did Fyren have something to do with it?

Voltrick may not have wanted to talk to anyone, but it didn't matter what mood he was in... Voltrick would always respond to Aidan. He was his friend and Voltrick knew Aidan's psychie was out of control at the moment, Voltrick had to help him whatever way he could.

"Right now, I'm seeing similar traits in you to that of Fyren. I wont ever think of you any lower than I did before, but I do know that you put the memory of Fyren in my mind." Voltrick said in his raspy tone.

Ears lowered as Aidan turned his head away, gaze becoming distant. "That's not what I asked." he said, brows wrinkling slightly before he brought himself to look up to Voltrick with a frown. "I don't know what he did!" he snapped suddenly, gritting his teeth, "What he did to make me do that! But now I know what he wants. What he'll do to get you! So what am I to you?! He killed--He killed Vincent!"

Aidan clutched his head, shutting his eyes as the disturbing realizations swirled.

"He...He was in my head!! He made me see things---" he stopped there, breathing heavier than before. Fyren could have seen everything in his memories. It was a complete invasion of-- "While I was sleeping, Voltrick!"

Suddenly he paused, widening his eyes before they lifted in horror. "Is...Is all this, the battle and...was this all a way just to get back at you?"

Voltrick's ears raised lightly as he turned his head toward Aidan, watching him silently as Aidan continued. But when Aidan shouted 'He killed Vincent', Voltrick's neck and shoulders tensed and turned his head away again.

Fyren was responsible for everything and now attacking Aidan's mind, He's ALWAYS been responsible for everything. The battle for the city, his torture, AIDAN'S torture, and now Voltrick finds out he killed Vincent... was it really all to get back at Voltrick for Damien? An undeserved judgement for a justified crime. Damien and Fyren tortured him endlessly when he was a child and were responsible for the torture of Vincent, his father and sister, who was murdered as well.

Fyren has ruined Voltrick's life and everyone he's ever loved. He deserves a fate worse than death and to have those cursed eyes ripped from their sockets, but he lives in luxury... enjoying the spoils of position and authority. And Voltrick gets nothing but the pains of loss and torture.

An angered scowl was on Voltrick's face as he kept his face forward and away from Aidan, his side facing the cat. A short moment passed before Voltrick finally responded to Aidan's quesiton. "It is... All because of a murderous, scheming, bastard brother was killed. Fyren's sick form of vengeance has ruined MY life and everyone around me." He paused to quickly look toward Aidan. "And now he's using you to get to me as well. Its all because of me... Because I killed Fyren's brother."

A long silence occurred inside the room as the two of them remained still, both in troubling thoughts. But soon Aidan lowered his hands from his head and Voltrick could suddenly feel a weight upon his shoulders, as though the air had become heavier. Aidan lifted his head, his features contorted in anger as his eyes were glowing once again brilliantly, hands gripping the blankets tightly with his claws.

"...He's been fooling everyone..." he muttered lowly to himself, his hair beginning to levitate gently as the air around Aidan began to thicken. Voltrick would notice that he could not move as Aidan hunched his shoulders with a fierce glower.

"All those people he hurt just for one stupid man! He killed Vincent! He'll kill me too!" Aidan shouted, "But I won't let him touch you!"

Through Aidan's eyes, everything had blurred, Voltrick and the room muddling together. But that was fine. He was beyond sight now. He'll stop Fyren...no matter what the cost. He'll get into Fyren's mind, just like he did to Aidan! Aidan's eyes squinted sharply as his mind separated away, his body left stoic as his mind passed through portals, traveling far with only one destination in mind.

With the great burst of intensity of Aidan's energy, the room was left with a heavy air, felt by the doctor who stopped suddenly on the stairs outside the hall of Aidan's room.

"Is this what you meant?" he asked Aeth, who was following behind.

Aeth glanced just up the staircase with a little squint. "I suppose it's gotten worse..."