"Darken."

Darken grumbled and tried to turn over.

"DARKEN!" Liandra shouted. Darken awoke with a jolt. He looked around. The meadows, he thought, this doesn't look like the Angel Sphere, so . . .did it work?

"We did it, Darken," Liandra said, helping him to his feet. He looked at her. Neither of them were injured--no torn clothes, no signs that there had ever been a battle, much less the war they had been through.

"What . . .did we do, exactly?" Darken asked. He wasn't being facetious, he truly didn’t remember most of it, like a dream it was vaporizing in the light of day.

And it was bright. The sun in the sky felt warm on his skin, warmer, in fact than any sunlight he had ever felt. He looked around, saw the mountains in the distance, and tried to get his bearings.

"Is this Deianyra?" Darken asked. "Are we back home? It looks familiar and yet . . .not."

"No, Darken, wherever we are, we're certainly not in Deinyra," Liandra said. "Over that rise of mountains is an ocean--a huge one. Above the ocean and mountains are cities, like the ones in the Angel Sphere. It's like we're in some sort of combination of all the worlds."

Combination, Darken thought. It was coming back to him now. I did this . . .made every Sphere unite into one. It wasn't all a dream--the fight with the Dark Gods, the fight with Garuda, seeing Maryna . . .it's all true.

And yet . . .

"I wonder if anyone else is alive," Darken said. "Sachiel, Leiliel. . .I have to know if my friends were affected by this."

"I didn't see them," Liandra said. "Then again, this world is so huge that I could only cover a little of it. Darken, whatever you did . . .everything's different."

"Except for us," Darken said. "Except for the Soul Power."

"Yours?"

Darken nodded. "I remember . . .using it to seal the world like this. If I have any at all anymore, it's very little. I can't really feel it anymore, except when I'm close to this world."

"I can feel mine," Liandra said. "But when I focus on you . . .I don’t see any."

Darken brushed his hair out of his face. "Makes sense, I guess," he said. "So, we need answers. Where should we go?"

"The sky-cities, maybe?" Liandra asked.

"Sounds good to me," Darken said, sweeping his wings to the sky and taking flight. Liandra followed behind him.

They landed on the gold streets of a palatial city. It was a lot like what the old Angel Palace had been before wars and damage had shattered it. Darken walked the streets, his eyes taking all of it in.

Things are different, he thought. Subtle things. This road used to be lined with statues of great angelic warriors. Now there are Angel and Dragon heroes. I can’t imagine that happening before the war.

A pair of guards stopped him before the outer gates. Darken had to blink to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him. It was true--an Angel and a Dragon. What was going on here?

They crossed their lances to block his way. The Angel looked at Darken very strangely. He raised the facemask on his helmet. His young eyes widened in recognition.

"Let him through," the angel said. His eyes proffered a silent apology.

The great doors of the palace gates opened, and Darken could scarcely believe his eyes. There were people--thousands of them--men, women children of nearly every race. And they were celebrating.

He walked past them, which he found wasn't hard, because they parted for him, nodding reverently at him.

What is going on? Darken wondered. These people are treating me like some kind of a messiah. It's really making me uncomfortable.

Before Darken knew it he felt someone grab him around the stomach. Arms were wrapping around him. A surge of panic went through him, then he realized who and what was happening.

Sachiel, he thought.

"DARKEN!" Sachiel said, holding him tightly. "You've done it, don’t you see?"

"Done . . .what?" Darken asked?

"Everything's all right now!"

"Er . . .Sachiel?"

Sachiel let go and looked at him, trying to comprehend his confusion. Darken was looking at the way he was dressed. Almost like his royal clothes, but different. More like an intermediary's clothes.

Sachiel led Darken and Liandra past the crowd, who was cheering even louder now. Darken looked back and saw that Liandra's fairies were holding their ears it was so loud.

"Come on, then," he said. "We've got a lot to talk about, a lot to celebrate, and a lot to be thankful for!"

Darken's brow furrowed in confusion. He may have saved the world, but he momentarily wondered if he shouldn’t have tried to better prepare himself for what he would be dropped into.

Sachiel sat at his chair at the head of the empty banquet hall, watching Darken pace.

"And that's all you remember?" Sachiel asked.

"I'm afraid so," Darken said. "All I can remember of what happened are fragments, random images really. I'm still sort of confused about it all."

"You look tired," Sachiel said.

"I am tired," Darken said, pulling out a chair. "And not even because of the battles I fought. Any evidence of that--the cuts, the bruises, the torn clothes--are gone. I just feel . . .exhausted."

"I don't mean to make things worse on you," Sachiel began, pouring him a cup of water. "But that celebration outside may be the beginning of your fame. Everyone who was with us is regarding you as some kind of savior."

Darken took the water, drank a bit, and stared into the glass. "If I was a savior," he said ruefully. "All those people wouldn’t have died."

"You can't save everyone, Darken."

"Seems to be a common theme in my life."

"Don’t do this Darken," Liandra said, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Don’t start beating yourself up again."

"There's something worse than that bothering me," Darken said. "I never thought it would happen . . .but it has. I've achieved the destiny laid out for me. Saved the world. Brought everyone together. But now that destiny's been replaced by a question I can’t answer.

"What do I do now?"

The party happened despite Darken's wishes, and lasted far too long for his tastes. He learned a lot about what had happened. Apparently Sachiel had begun the process of launching the fleet through gate space to come to his rescue. There had been a white flash, and then they had found themselves on this city. The ships, all evidence of the war was gone, as if it had never been.

Sachiel and the rest of the warriors seemed to be only people besides Liandra and Darken who remembered there had been a war. Evidently it had been quite a searing experience . . .Sachiel had forged a new council to oversee the world, with each race having a voice.

They had been heading toward that, of course, a long time ago. Before Kirone had launched her attack on the Angel Sphere, but now, it seemed to have a chance, because now everyone depended on the other.

The only trouble was, Darken was now revered. Darken was a legendary hero at least. At the most, he was a god. The one who led them to a new era.

He sat on a parapet in an isolated part of the castle and sighed. He almost wished for the days when he was outcast again.

And more than that, he thought. No word from Phoenix. Liandra says she saw her, that she told her to go. Did she make it in time?

Garuda had definitely not survived. The combination of the Godslayer, his soul power, and the shattering of the Godslayer had annihilated his essence. He, like the other Dark Gods, were gone for good.

He touched his Eagle clasp. It had been silent ever since he had awoke. No sound, no power he could tap into. That frightened him. If Phoenix exited, even a little bit--the Clasp would let him home in on it.

He clasped his hands and unclasped them. He felt them sweating through his gloves. Something wasn't right.

He stood up and leapt off of the parapet, his wings spreading and catching a breeze. He flew to the mountains, to a place he prayed had been unchanged by the unity effect.

"He doesn't seem very happy about it all," Sachiel said to Liandra.

"He is, I think," Liandra replied. "Except for the part about being worshipped. You and I both know how much he hates the idea of renown."

"I remember, my father and I both wanted him to be recognized as Knight Protector," Sachiel said. "It wasn't much more than an official commendation, but of course, Darken didn’t want it."

"He's never been one for titles," Liandra said. "You should have seen it when I began to call him my big brother. Doesn’t seem like a difficult title to take on. There's no prestige and less power. But Darken was uncomfortable even then."

Sachiel and Liandra laughed a bit. Sachiel noted with some surprise that Liandra had the most musical laugh he had ever heard. And very few people had heard Laindra laugh.

"His mother was royal-born," Sachiel mused. "Had it not been for who his father was, he would have been a lord. But then I guess he wouldn't be Darken Blackangel, eh?"

Sachiel stood up from his chair and looked toward the window. "There were very many times I wanted to be him," he said. "I wanted to fly through the Spheres, free and careless. I always imagined him having a life with freedoms a prince of the realm couldn’t dream of."

"Is this before or after Maryna?" Liandra asked, her fingertip circling the rim of her goblet.

"Before," Sachiel said. "I think that jealousy of how easy his life was tied into how we both felt about Maryna. Then, when I began to understand him, to learn more about his life, I knew how hard it was for him."

"He's always been deeply lonely," Liandra said. "I'm there for him . . .but even I can only do so much."

"What about his woman . . .Romanova? Was that her name?"

Liandra nodded.

"What happened to her? Why was she not with you?"

"I don’t know," Liandra said. Her fairies were playing with her hair again, which made her look happy, despite being quite the opposite. "I saw her during the final battle, but then . . ."

" . . .There was a white flash, and you woke up here?"

Liandra nodded.

"I'm almost surprised Darken hasn't gone to look for her," Sachiel said.

He drew in lower, toward a place at the forest's edge that seemed familiar. His feet landed softly on the soft earth and his wings folded behind him. He pried a dead branch off of a nearby tree and, after looking around furtively, breathed fire on it. He took a look around, where his house was supposed to be.

Nothing, he thought. No sign of the foundations I dug. No sign of the water springs Cyan created. Nothing.

He snuffed the flame and sat down on a nearby rock, sighing deeply, and feeling very defeated.

The price I paid, he thought, his heart feeling like a lump of iron in his chest. I saved the world, avenged Maryna, and now that I'm ready, now that all my debts are settled . . .she's gone. Worse yet, my saving the world may have destroyed her.

Darken felt his throat tighten. His eyes were welling up. Fine, he thought. Why even bother to hold back the tears?

Romanova, he thought, the word seeming echo in his mind and heart. What was the point of all this is the price was losing you? Why couldn't I have perished as well?

His mind drifted back to the times he had spent here. Working by himself, cutting trees and digging trenches. Persuading Cyan, a goddess herself to bring water to this place. Making love to Phoenix in the grasses.

Only, for all intents and purposes, that wasn't the case now. That place had never been, or might as well have never been. No one remembered it.

Darken bowed his head, holding it in his hands, tears soaking through his gloves. It's just like before I met her, he thought. I'm suffering alone with this great loss . . .it's just like when I lost Maryna.

He heard a branch crack behind him.

"Darken," a voice whispered.

Darken spun around and almost hated himself for being disappointed to the point of anger when it was Liandra, not Phoenix, who stood there.

"Liandra," he said indifferently. "How'd you know I'd come here?"

"I knew you’d be looking for Phoenix," she said. "And like you, I know she's not here. There's no evidence of her being here. Not even the Angels and Dragons have temples to her anymore. It's like . . ."

"She was never here," Darken finished, his voice thick with tears.

"I can't imagine what you’re going through," she said, walking over to him. She wrapped her arms around him.

"I think it hurts too much to grasp all of it," Darken said. "Liandra, was all of this worth it? Saving the worlds, creating a new future, a second chance for everyone, and for what? For the saviors to live the rest of their lives without the one thing they did it all for?"

"I can’t answer that, Darken," Liandra said. "There were people I wanted to save too."

"Sarene," Darken said.

"Yes," Liandra said. "She was so much like me. There was so much she could have done, had she only believed there was another way to redeem herself other than death. Who did I learn that from?"

"I don’t know," Darken said.

"You," Liandra said, holding him tighter. "You were there for me. You stopped me from choosing her way, choosing death. And you taught me to love all people, all things."

"That was always there inside you, Liandra," Darken said.

"Maybe so," she said. "But would I have acted on it, if you weren't there? Would I have been there to help you when the war came?"

"I don't know."

"Darken," Liandra said. "I wouldn't blame you if you left all this behind."

"I'm not planning to--"

"I don’t know what you’re planning," Liandra said, putting a finger to his lips. "But I know how you feel about going back to the sky-city, being revered as a some kind of god for what you did. You don’t want it."

"That's the one thing I'm sure about."

"But someone should," Liandra said. "And you've more than done your part. But who else is there? It takes a special kind of person to do it. Someone who remembers the sacrifices we made, and the world we had to re-create. Someone who will protect the weak, because they are stong."

"Who do you suggest?" Darken asked. "It's not exactly a job I’d wish on anyone, much less someone close to me."

"I'd imagine not," Liandra agreed.

Darken looked at her. "Are you volunteering?"

"I'm thinking about it," Liandra said. "You can’t do it. We fought a war against gods, to free ourselves from gods pulling the strings of our destiny. Now, they're in a hurry to make you the newest god."

"The irony isn’t lost on me," Darken said. "It wasn't two years ago they used to spit at me and called me a half-breed."

Liandra's fairies looked at Darken with a look of tenderness and understanding for the depths of his loss. Darken sighed. He understood they only wanted to make him feel better, but it really wasn't helping his mood. It only made him feel Romanova's absence that much more. His heart was aching for her, and every beat seemed to be a strain.

"But they learned," Liandra said. "Now they need someone to teach them to rely more on themselves than their divinity."

"You could do it," Darken said. "You’re the most self-reliant person I know. Right now I wish I could borrow some of your strength."

"Even I need someone occasionally, Darken," Liandra said, squeezing his arm gently. "Someone like you, big brother."

"And I need Romanova," Darken said, sobbing all over again. The tears came out like a torrent, like a driving rain pushed by the wind. "I need her more than ever, and . . .she's not here."

They held each other for most of the night. Darken didn't sleep, but Liandra did, resting against him. His eyes, bleary with crying and lack of sleep greeted the new day with an expression of grim resignation.

What did it matter, he thought. Phoenix isn't here anymore.

Darken stood up, waking Liandra in the process. He watched her twin fairies stretch their arms and fly to her shoulders. She watched Darken. He was holding something in his hands.

It was his Eagle clasp. He was turning it over in his hands, then looking towards the horizon, where the sun was rising. Liandra wondered what he was thinking about, did he feel any better.

What can I say, she wondered. What do you tell someone like him, who has suffered the depths of loss not once but twice? Painful as the things that happened to me are, they only happened once. Darken gave his heart and soul to two women. And both of them loved him in return. And he has lived to see them both taken from his life in the cruelest way possible.

What do you say to that?

Darken turned the Clasp over in his hands some more. Then he closed his hand around it. His hands fell to his side and he hung his head like a condemned man. Then his hands rose up again, and his right hand cocked back, as though he were going to throw the clasp.

He threw it towards the woods. Liandra's fairies caught a glimmer of gold and a gleam from the red jewel in its mouth before it disappeared into the darkness of the forest. Wherever it went it, landed with a thud.

"Darken," Liandra said. Darken didn't respond.

"Hey," a voice called from the forest. A woman, dressed in red and black walked from the forest. In her hand she held the Eagle Clasp like a child's ball. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a long braid. At her hip hung a sword and a disc-like weapon.

Liandra knew that weapon to be called the Talon.

Darken rushed to her, embracing her tightly and spinning her around.

"ROMAONVA!" Darken cried.

"Hello you silly bird," she said, pushing on his nose with a white-gloved finger. "You didn’t honestly think I would leave you alone, did you?"