Darken fell to Earth with a great crash. He felt as though he were burning alive, as if he was dying, unable to even breathe. He could feel his bones, broken and grinding as he breathed, his ribs now dangerous pins, threatening to puncture his lungs. It was only the routine of breathing that had kept him going. He could feel it. . .death was near.

It felt wonderful. He didn't want anything else out of life anyway. Maryna was dead, and by now the Madness Plague was swarming over the Seven Spheres. He had finally failed, and now, all he wanted was for it to end. So he closed his eyes and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He opened his eyes again, looking around. Suddenly, it didn't seen so painful to move. . .breathing took less of an effort. He sat up, looking at the charred landscape, scarred with the force and fire of his fall.

But it wasn't, not anymore. It was the same meadow green it had always been, and the only damage was the grass pressed down by his body. He started to weep, pounding a fist to the ground.

"It isn't fair," he said, the tears spilling from his eyes. "I tried so hard. . .I tried so hard to die."

He drew himself up until he was on his knees, and began to scream. The scream changed to fire, a brilliant column. Darken had despised this talent, but now he didn't care. The scream and his flame created a column of fire and rage that could be seen for miles away.

He screamed and screamed, only stopping to draw in breath. And that was the way she found him. She watched him for a few minutes, watching his deep rage and hatred and the brilliant display it was shaping. Tiring of it, she decided to act.

"That's enough," she said, sternly. She motioned her right hand and the flame seemed to follow her motion, coalescing at her extended fingertip until it took some shape familiar to Darken.

He looked at her now, regarding her face with some confusion. The fire she had appropriated took the form of a butterfly and flew off. He blinked. It had been a mighty column of fire not so very long ago.

"Who are you?" Darken asked her.

"A friend, at least I hope to be," she said. Her voice was gentle as a springtime breeze. "This is my realm. As far as I knew, I was the only person here. So that leads me to the question of. . .who are you?"

"My name is Darken Blackangel," he said wearily. His voice came out raspy and raw, an aftereffect from the scream. "I was trying to die. Which sphere is this?"

"Sphere?" She replied quizzically. "This isn't a sphere. This is my home. My name is Phoenix Romanova, fire goddess of this realm."

Darken's jaw dropped. His mind raced. He closed his left eye, then his right. Then he looked at her with both wide open. Could it be. . .?

To his eyes, she was beautiful. Her long dark hair fell in a cascade down her back. Her violet eyes shown with a kind of vibrancy that was so profound as to be indescribable. In a lot of ways, she almost reminded him of Maryna, but the pain of that connection smoldered the flame of hope in his heart.

"This is going to sound strange," Darken said. "But I know you. But I thought you were two different people."

"What are you talking about?" Romanova asked.

"In. . .the place I come from you're the goddess of the two people I come from," Darken explained. "My eyes. . .one is a dragon's and one is an angel's. When I look at you with one or the other, I can see you as that goddess. When I look at you with both of them, you look, well, normal."

"Interesting," Romanova said. She smiled a bit. "But I'm not really in the business of being worshipped."

"I never believed in you," Darken said. "And yet, here I am. It figures. All I wanted to do was die."

"Why did you want to die?" Romanova asked.

Darken stood up, shaking the dirt from his wings. He looked sullen and angry. He felt tears building in his eyes. "Because I've failed. Failed everyone who ever loved me."

"Well," Romanova said, trying to lighten the mood. "You aren't going to do it here. This is my realm. Here things grow. It's a place of life. You may have noticed that the ground you burned has grown back. Life permeates every element of this world. It's even healing you. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"Yes, I know. I don't suppose I could convince you to kill me?"

"No," Romanova said. "You can't. At least not until we've gotten to know one another a little better. Shared a few secrets."

Darken felt his angel eye begin to glow and felt himself lock eyes with her.

Suddenly, she was with him, in his mind. . .in his soul.

"What are you doing in here?" Darken asks silently. "GET OUT!"

"No," Romanova said. "Not until I find out why you want to die."

"Why do you care?"

"Because I've never known anything like you," Romanova said. "In all the universe, you are unique. So why are you trying to die?"

"Because the woman I love is dead, and the worlds I fought for are in flames."

There was a flash, and Darken looked around. Oh no, he thought. Not here. Why did you bring me here?

"Where is this place?" Romanova asked. "It's deep in your memory. You drew us here."

"This is where Maryna died," Darken said. "The is the Mother Machine. We were trying to stop a group of vampires from releasing the madness plague. We failed. They bound me and killed her before my eyes. Then they released the plague. Just like that.

"Before I knew it, the plague spread to every world. Every little hatred that my people had built up was unleashed. Even now, they're probably still at war with one another."

He looked back at Romanova. "My teacher told me that I was created to bring unity to the Seven Spheres, so that all their peoples would live in peace. Now look at them."

"Wait a second," Romanova said. "If the plague was released where you were, then why didn't it affect you?"

"Because of my heritage. I'm half-angel, half dragon," Darken said. Romanova almost swore she heard an element of derision in his voice. "I wasn't affected."

"Maybe it's for the best," Romanova said. "If you weren't affected, maybe it's because you have the key to destroying the plague and saving your world."

"And what if I do?" Darken asked. "What is the point of saving my world when the one thing I wanted to save it for is gone?"

He knelt down at the body of Maryna, and took her hand. "I had so many plans for us," he said, his voice thickening with grief. "I wanted so much just to be with her. I remember when we first kissed--even now, it is so beautiful.

"We were flying through the mountains of Deinara, and I flew so close. The wind was like a cold shock to me, but I poured on the speed--trying to catch up. Then we embraced, and in the light of the sunset, I kissed her.

"I don't know if you can understand this, but in that moment--everything crystallized. Everything I wanted, hoped and dreamed was finally real, solid, achievable. And to think it was only two weeks later, that THIS happened."

Romanova watched him. He leaned down to Maryna's body and wept. In that instant, she felt his sadness and his grief. She walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her.

"Darken," she began. "I can help you stop the plague."

"I don't care about the plague," Darken said. "I just want Maryna back in my life."

"Maryna will always be part of you. But she would not want you to act like this. The best way to honor her memory is to save her world."

"If you want to help me," Darken said. "Bring her back to life."

"I can't do that," Romanova said.

"You're a goddess," Darken said. "You're two of them. You can do anything."

"And if I did bring her back?" Romanova asked. "What then? Would you run? Would you save your world?"

"I don't know."

"Darken. . ." Romanova tried to find the right words to say. "As hard as this is for you to hear, you can't live in this point in your life forever. You have to move on. You can't let her dying keep you from living."

"Without her, I have no future."

"There's a future for you, Darken," Romanova said. "But you have to be strong to find it. You can't use what's happened to stop you from living."

"How do I do that?" Darken asked, clutching Maryna's hand, tears streaming down his face.

"Whether it's a broken heart or a broken sword," Romanova said gently. "Things only have the power that you give them."

Darken looked up, tears streaming from his eyes. He looked at Romanova, who even now had her hand on his shoulder. He looked her in the eye for a second, and then turned back to Maryna.

"I don't know if you can understand this," Darken said. "Every night since she died, she has been in the dark places of my heart. Whenever I close my eyes, whenever I would try to sleep. I would see her like this."

He laid Maryna's hand on her chest, tears still streaming from his face. "But I don't want to see her like this again. I want to remember the days on the mountain, where we first fell in love. I know she's gone, and I miss her, but I can't leave her world like this. I owe that to her."

There was a flash, and they were back in the meadow.

Darken was still crying. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

Romanova embraced him. "It's all right.," she said. "But now that you know what you have to do, will you do what's right?"

"Yes," Darken said. "I have to go back and destroy the plague. But how do I do that?"

Romanova took his Eagle Clasp, and ejected the small red orb in the Eagle's mouth. She concentrated on it, and Darken felt a rush of power round him. Then she gave it to him and re-affixed it.

"That'll do it," Romanova said. "But it's going to be hard for you. I'll send you to the Mother Machine, but once you're there, only you have the way to destroy the plague. Can you?"

"I think so," he said.

Romanova embraced him again. "Be strong," she said.

* * *

Darken paused at the Mother Machine. His hand went to the Eagle Clasp. He quickly undid it, and looked at it. How long had it been since he had looked at it?

It was his mother's. It had been the only gift she had to give him before she was killed. How strange that he would think of it now. How strange that his thoughts were suddenly full of the people he loved over the years. Then slowly it dawned on him what he had to do.

"Love," he said. It was so natural, he thought. Love would cure the madness. But it would have to be his, because he was the only one who was still sane. His hands began to shake. He knew what he would have to do. He carefully but unsteadily undid the clasp, holding the deep red sphere in his hands.

This was the heart of the Clasp's power, where the memory of the user and the innate power of the clasp. And all Darken had to do was shatter it, and released its power through the machine. It seemed so simple. . .so why did it seem so difficult?

He looked away from the machine to the place where Maryna had died. He remembered Romanova's words.

Things only have the power that you give them.

He took a deep breath. In his mind's eye he drifted back to him and Maryna's first kiss. He focused on that wonderful moment with her.

Then, he squeezed the sphere in his hands until it shattered. The heat of a thousands suns coupled with the light of one million stars shone in the machine's chamber, suffusing the machine with more than enough power to purify the machine, and through the machine, all the people of the Seven Spheres.