Darken passed through the gate, heading for his home sphere. As the gate opened and he turned wide, he let his lungs take in the sweet air of Deianyra, the sphere of Earth. He set his course for the temples on the next rise, his mind returning to the jewel that even now rested in a pocket in his tunic, close to his heart. In this verdant landscape, with love in his heart, he felt renewed.

His mind drifted as he slowed, letting the winds glide him along. How he missed Romanova, how much she had come to mean to him in so short a time. Given the eventful nature of their time together, it was even more amazing that he had any time to be with her alone.

He saw the temple, ancient and weathered coming up fast, he landed softly outside the temple. The smile on his face faded the instant he saw his teacher, Kael, waiting for him on the steps of the temple.

"You have been gone a long time," Kael said. His green and black fur was lightly playing in breeze, his red eyes old and flinty. "Many have come to see you."

"That's why I was gone, Kael," he said. "I had. . .things I wanted to attend to."

"I see," Kael said. "Romanova, is it?"

"Yes," Darken said. "I'm working on the ring."

Darken watched a peculiar shadow pass over his mentor's face. A million emotions--happiness, sorrow, regret, a dream or two long gone--passed over him. Kael sighed wearily.

"I. . .knew this day would come," Kael said. "When your father and I were fighting in the Light and Darkness war, I introduced him to your mother. . .in a way, I found myself jealous."

They walked on, silently walking through the halls of the temple, footsteps echoing through the halls. "When they married," Darken asked. "Were you there?"

Kael nodded. Darken noticed that the golden staff Kael carried was becoming worn on the end. He watched as his mentor leaned on it--ever so slightly. It was the first time he had ever seen his mentor look so tired, so old.

"Your mother. . ." he said wistfully. "She was so lovely. Her and your father both seemed so young and full of life. It was strange, that the worlds were so encircled with war, with rage, but this beautiful day went on forever."

Kael looked away. Darken wanted to know more, but seeing how draining the admission was. Kael let out a long, slow, sigh, like a dying man's last breath. Darken put a hand on his shoulder, held it there for a time.

Kirone was concentrating. She held her arms aloft, her hands tracing the runes, her voice reciting the incantations she had learned so long ago. Behind her, Monstructor was monitoring the machinery around the Skyshadow's engines, tapping into them, to magnify the power of her spell.

They had pierced the spacial wall, and she could feel the presence, touch it with mystical hands. She slowly, calmly, wrapped the energies of her spell around it.

There, she thought. Now, to pull it through. Slowly, she concentrated, pulling the bubble of magic back, mental hand over mental hand. It felt like pulling a mountain through the eyes of a needle. Sweat poured from her dead white brow, past the silver birthmarks on her eyes. She was determined to pull it through, focused only on her task.

She felt the spatial wall begin to buckle, and with one mighty effort, she yanked the bubble through, screaming as she did. The bubble dissipated, its contents falling hard to the floor. Kirone dropped to her knees, panting with the strain.

"Monstructor," she yelled wearily. "Quickly, before the wall re-seals itself! Get the nether energy."

Kirone looked at the form from the bubble. It was a girl, a young woman. She was clad in white and purple armor, with a long, wild, mane of silver hair. Her silver eyes held a white-hot glint of madness.

Monstructor helped her to her feet, still warily regarding the girl before her.

The girl groaned, rising to her feet as well.

"Who are you?" Kirone demanded.

The girl blearily focused on Kirone, then her eyes snapped into focus, just as she drew a small knife and leapt toward her. Kirone smiled, waved her hand, and ensnared her in a web of mystical energy.

"I'll not ask again," Kirone said. "Identify yourself. It's the least your could do, after all, I did save you from exile."

"Vertigo," the girl snarled. "That's my name. But you might as well call me your executioner. Because, once you drop this web, I'm going to kill you, and that toady behind you."

"I think not," Kirone said, looking into Vertigo's eyes. "You could, if you wanted to, but it wouldn't give you what you need."

"What are you talking about?"

"I can give you what you desire. If all you crave is death, I can give you a target, a purpose, power beyond reason."

Vertigo laughed. "Well, why don't I kill you and take yours?"

Kirone smiled serenely. "You wouldn't dare. You see, to pull you out of nether space, there had to be a anchor in positive space. I was that anchor."

"Aaaaaaand?" Vertigo's patience was running out.

"If you kill me, Vertigo, you will go right back o your exile," Kirone said. "Right back to infinite darkness. Unable to move, to see, to feel, to exist."

"I don't believe you."

"Are you willing to take that chance?" Kirone said, smiling even wider.

"Give me a reason not to kill you."

Kirone gestured, casting a image spell. The image of Darken appeared above her palm, like a child's doll. "Here's is a reason for you. Kill him."

Vertigo gasped in shock. Her eyes narrowed in barely-contained rage.

". . .Darken. . ."

Darken held the chunk of metal over the fire, watching the heat causing it to glow. His chalk-white skin was soaked with sweat as he worked over the improvised foundry. The air felt heavy and hot in the small room in the temple, but he pushed it out of his mind as he warmed the metal.

He reached at it with his tongs, the metal glowing a brilliant white-hot. He reached over and walked to a nearby table, where two bowls awaited the metal. He very gently lay it in the first bowl, a bowl half full of tears. His tears.

This was how his father had made his wedding ring for his mother. The metal, a silvery chunk of Valisium, was forged in a white-hot fire. Then it was cooled in two bowls. One, a bowl of tears, to symbolize the sorrows he had come through to find her.

The other was a bowl of his blood, to symbolize the courage and dedication of his commitment to her. He raised the ring from the bowl, the crimson of his blood making the silver gleam in the spare light of the room. If anything ever happened to him, if the ancient rituals were correct, the angel and the dragon on either side of the jewel would cry tears of blood and water. He gently mounted the jewel between the angel's and dragon's wings. Then he fixed it between two bricks, letting it cool.

He sighed and looked at it. He hoped Romanova would like it.

Kirone released her from the energy web. "How do you know his name?" She asked.

"Darken's?" Vertigo asked. "He's the boy toy of my worst enemy. I saw in him, something familiar. He had a potential to be a solider of chaos. Like me. But he was committed to chasing Romanova's skirt." She spat out the name.

Vertigo's silver eyes looked at Kirone, regarding her curiously. "And you?"

"Matters of prophecy," Kirone said. "It is said that a child born of two races will be born, unite the worlds, and rule over them. As Darken is a scion of the Angels and the Dragons, so am I a child of the Fallen and the Vampires.

"So far, Darken has the races of the Seven Spheres convinced that HE is the one destined to rule them. But I will change that. With the ancient knowledge and the powers of science and magic at my command, there is very little I can't do."

Vertigo stared at her for a time. She's really in love with the sound of her own voice, she thought.

"I'm willing to make you an offer," Kirone said. "Help me, and I'll let you have Darken. . .and this Romanova woman."

"Tempting." Vertigo said. "But an empty offer. If you've already made a double-cross impossible, I really don't have a choice, do I?"

"No, you don't." Kirone said. "But I ask very little. Two things."

Kirone walked away, and Vertigo walked nervously after her. Monstructor, his robotic servants crawling over him like insects followed behind Vertigo.

They went to the chamber where Kirone and Monstructor had been preparing the clone of Darken. Kirone gestured a gloved hand toward it.

"We need you," she said. "We need you to infuse a part of your energy into this, to give it life. Only a combination of our this skills can give it life."

Vertigo smiled and cracked his knuckles. "Oh. . .is that all?"

Darken held the ring in his hand. Yes, now, everything was ready. He dressed in his blue and black tunic, having washed off the layers of sweat garnered at the forge. The heat of his labors had vanished, now there was only the chill of fear.

It had finally hit him, how on earth do you propose to a goddess? It was so easy to not think of Romanova like that, she was so. . .childlike sometimes, or maybe he was too serious--he didn't know which.

He sighed. Sometimes he wished Kael had spent more time teaching him the ways of the heart than the way of the warrior. Maybe then he wouldn't be so confused.

He felt a chill in the air. The darkness of the room as disturbed a bit, by two lights. Darken turned slowly around. There stood behind him another angel, with black wings. Her purple hair covered her eyes and her black wings were wrapped around her. The two pools of light came from the two fairies now perched on her shoulder.

Darken smiled. "Liandra," he said. "You're still the only one who can sneak up on me."

"Darken," she said. How odd, Darken thought. Even after all she'd been through, her voice still had that childlike lilt. She smiled a bit, showing her fangs. "You're going to do it, aren't you?"

Darken smiled sheepishly, like a child caught stealing. "I have to," Darken said softly. " I feel like I can't go on without her. If what Kael has said to me is true, if I do have some sort of destiny. . .then I need her with me."

Liandra smiled. "I wish I knew that kind of love," she said. Darken could feel her sadness, even though he could not see her eyes. "But I wish you well. When are you going to let me meet her?"

Darken blushed, twin patches of red rosying his dead-white cheeks. "Well," he said, smiling a bit. "I hope to do it soon. Maybe after I've asked her."

Darken walked a few steps away, to one of the many balconies on the upper levels of the temple. Liandra watched him prepare to take flight.

"Darken," Liandra asked. "Are you ever. . .ashamed of us?"

"Of you and Kael?" Darken asked. This was an odd question, certainly. "No. Not at all. You're the closest thing I have to family. And I hope you can accept Romanova into that family."

"I was just. . .afraid," she said, her voice trailing off. The fairies that sat on her shoulders gathered their knees to them, almost huddling against the cold.

"Afraid of what?"

"I don't know," Liandra said defensively. "Sometimes . . .I see things. Dreams, premonition, I can't say. I have this awful vision, this feeling something will go wrong."

Darken looked at her. She was blind, yes, but something about her bonding with the fairies had given her a strange insight. However, it was vague, uncertain. He couldn't trust it. He hated to do it--Liandra was like the little sister he'd always wished for--but his heart was pulling at him.

"I hope you're wrong Liandra," he said, hugging her close to him.

"So do I," she whispered. Darken turned and flew away. Liandra watched him leave, a single tear running from her blind eyes.

"We are ready, Mistress," Monstructor said. His machine beasts finished connecting hoses and wires to the clone body. The wires and hoses were in turn connected to three terminals. One, Monstructor's would balance the flow of energy into the clone body. On either side of him were the other two consoles.

"Perfect," Kirone said, sliding the last crystal into place on her console. This console would magnify her spell of weaving, creating a soul for the clone body, ordering his mind and spirit as she wished. "Vertigo, are you ready?"

Vertigo nodded, her eyes closed in silent concentration. A sphere of purple fire was gathering in her hand, a tightly focused ball of the chaos flame that gave her power.

"Good," Kirone said. "Monstructor, insert the Netheric Engine."

Monstructor pressed a button on his console. A robotic arm lowered a cylindrical tube into the clone body. The cylinder was filled with a chunk of nether space. This would provide the heart of the clone, and hopefully, magnify his power. When properly charged, nether space would provide a eternal, and limitless source of power.

"It's ready," Monstructor said. Energy was already flowing into the clone. Blue light arced off of the body, reflected in the red lenses of Monstructor's glasses.

Kirone began scrying her spell, concentrating. She weaved a magical lattice of fire and shadow, of mind heart and soul, weaving a tapestry of a life. The crystals gathered her magics, resonated with her spell and began running it to the clone body's brain.

Now it was Vertigo's turn. She had focused the power of the chaos fire in her hands to such a degree it was beginning to burn her palms. Then, finally she released it into her part of the console, a capacitance machine which caught her energy. The spark of the chaos fire flowed into the clone body, changing its features, altering function and form in a way most unpredictable.

Then, in a flash, it was over. The machines fell silent. The clone glowed with residual energy, smoking with the searing heat of the crucible that spawned it.

"It didn't work," Kirone sneered, sweeping the crystals from her console. "Damn it all!"

Then, a strange thing happened. This thing--it couldn't be called a clone, not anymore--sat up. It regarded the world through red eyes full of hate. Its mouth was a fanged grimace of rage, its body a strange kludge of skeletons, machines, and sharp edges. It breathed with a hard metallic rasp. It seemed to exude anger, barely controlled rage.

Kirone slowly let a smile move over her lips. "My child of fire, shadow, and chaos," she whispered. "is born at last."

Vertigo looked at him, her eyes wide and childlike. Kirone regarded her strangely. She seemed to be. . .in adoration of the creature.

"He's. . .beautiful," she breathed.

"You're DISGUSTING," Kirone sneered.

Darken activated his Eagle Clasp high above Deianyra. This was a new one, re-built after his previous one was destroyed in the last war with Kirone. Romanova had given it to him, and one of the many abilities it had (and there were many, he had discovered that early on) as that it would open a gateway into Romanova's realm for him.

There was a ripple in space, as Darken crossed over. The first thing he noticed was the change in her realm. After the first few visits, the shock of this had worn off. Romanova had a habit of changing her realm to suit her mood. Thankfully, however, the other gift of the claps was that it allowed him to home in on her, no matter what her realm looked like.

He made his way to a house on a verdant hill. It was small, modest, but that was merely the outside. The inside was much bigger, he knew. One of the advantages of being a goddess, Darken thought. You aren't constrained by limitation of reality.

He made his way up a flight of stairs. He could hear her breathing. A sudden rush of red suffused his cheeks when he recognized the other noise.

Water, he thought ruefully. I've caught her bathing. . .again. Embarrassment seeped into him, but he sighed and went on anyway. He knocked on the door to her bathroom.

He heard a muffled sigh. "Darken," Romanova said. "I have to tell you, you have horrible timing."

Darken smiled and sighed. "I've heard that," he said. He opened the door. Romanova yanked a towel over her chest to cover herself. Darken cocked an eyebrow.

"It's nothing I haven't already seen. . .and appreciated," he said.

Romanova threw the towel at him. It fell over his face, and Darken couldn't help but smile.

"Romanova," he said, puling the towel off his face. "There's something I need to say to you."

Romanova looked at him, her violet eyes big and wide. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, hold her. The trouble was, if he did that, he might not ever get to say when he needed to say. His hands were sweating. His heart felt like a snare drum.

"Romanova," he began, his voice barely quavering. "When I met you, I was lost. Maryna was gone, and I didn't think I'd ever be able to love again. I didn't think anyone would love me. But then you. . .touched. . .my soul. And after that, I couldn't think about anything but being with you.

"You just understand me, you know? Better than anyone else does. You're not trying to mold me for some destiny I don't want to be a part of. You just want me to be me, something that I felt a little worried about losing.

"So. . .what I want to know is. . .I know that well, I don't have a lot, and I don't know how I rate as far as you being a goddess and all but--"

"Darken?" Romanova asked. "You're babbling."

"I am?" Darken asked, looking worried. "I, ah. . .what I want to know is. . ."

He decided to cut to the point. He reached into the pocket in his robe and produced the ring.

"Romanova," he said. "Will you marry me?"