For a long time, Darken couldn’t say anything. All he knew was that he has gone from the hell of solitude to the fulfillment of his dream. He had gotten his wish, Romanova was back in his arms, and they, like the world, like all of them, had another chance to get it right.

"How did you survive?" Darken asked between kisses.

"You can thank your sister for that," Phoenix said, winking at Liandra. "I escaped into my realm before the unity effect hit. Otherwise it would have taken me centuries, rather than days to pull myself back together."

"You look . . .different," Darken said, looking her up and down and smiling.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Darken," Phoenix began. "Everyone changes their clothes once in awhile. Besides, I wanted a new look for our new beginning?"

"Our new beginning?" Darken repeated.

Phoenix smiled a guilty smile. "Forgive me, both of you, I was listening in," she smiled at both of them and went on. "I heard what you said. About how you felt like you had done everything you could here. About how you’d achieved your destiny."

"And?"

"And . . .I have to be honest here Darken," Phoenix said, curling up in his arms. "There's really nothing more keeping me here except for you. We've both of us done what we needed--defeated the Dark Gods, achieved what you were destined to do. The way I see it is, you have two choices."

"Two choices?" Darken asked. "You mean, besides re-building our house?"

"Darken," Phoenix said. "I love you very much, but you’re being a bit dense. You've done your part here. You can stay and be revered as a savior, which I know to someone like you, someone who dreams of a quiet life, would be hell. Or you can come with me."

"Where?" Darken asked.

"To a place far away from here," Phoenix said. "A place that needs people to help protect it. A place that needs people like us. It's called Euiya."

Darken looked at her.

"Leave here?" Darken asked.

He looked at Phoenix and Liandra.

Liandra felt a shock at what Phoenix was saying. It was a scary idea. Liandra had done a very good job of not dwelling on Phoenix's otherworldly nature. The thought that there were other worlds out there was a bit much to grasp.

And yet, Liandra thought. Maybe that's what Darken needs. She's right . . .there isn’t much else he can do here.

"What would Liandra do?" Darken said, gesturing to her.

"Liandra's old enough to take care of herself now," Phoenix said.

"She has a point there, Darken," Liandra said. "I and the world both will be fine. It's you that needs to go."

"Are you forcing me out?" Darken asked incredulously. "I can’t believe what I'm hearing."

"No," Liandra said. "But your life isn’t over . . .just this part of it. Phoenix is right --you can do a lot of good no matter where you go. And you can do even more good here by leaving."

"Oh really?" Darken asked, not following this at all. "How?"

Liandra sighed. "If you stay," she said. "People will treat you like an earthbound god. There won’t be any peace for you . . .not even here. And I think we agreed that the last thing this new world needs is another god."

Darken nodded. "Then what do they need."

"A hero," Liandra said. "They need a legend."

She walked over to where Darken's house had been. "The legend of what we did--what we went through--is the foundation of it all. From there the people will build on it. And I'll be there to help them along."

"You don’t know what you’re taking on, Liandra."

"Oh but I do," Liandra said. "Because I've been closer to you than anyone but Phoenix. I know what to do and what not to do."

"It's not that simple," Darken said.

"Maybe not," Liandra said. "But I want to try. Besides, whether this chance came to you or not, you knew one day I would go out on my own."

Darken closed his eyes. "Yes," he said. "But now that that day seems to have gotten here--it's all too soon. I . . ."

". . .you don’t want to leave," Phoenix said. "I can understand that. But Liandra's got a point. Maybe you can do more good as a legend. Maybe, much like Liandra has outgrown the need for her big brother to hold her hand all the time . . .maybe you've outgrown the Spheres."

"Sphere," Liandra corrected.

"Sorry . . .habit," Phoenix smiled sheepishly.

"Didn't you tell Sachiel and I you were wondering what you would do now?" Liandra asked. "Maybe this is a way of figuring that out."

"Well, maybe so, Liandra, but I was hoping for a bit more time to figure it out," Darken said, biting his lower lip. Why did it feel like he was grasping at thin threads all in the name of wanting to stay here?

Darken looked at Liandra, then at Phoenix. Appropriate, he thought. That it comes down to this. Liandra, representing the only thing I really ever had as far as family and roots go. And Romanova, who I love so much, on whom all these dreams I have of the future involve so deeply.

And I have to choose. Maybe not forever, but it certainly feels that way. Liandra--you’re more right than you know. I've done what I needed to do here. There's nothing that I want to do more than protect you.

But you're right. You struck the final blow against Garuda. You told me what I had to do, showed me the way through the confusion. You have grown up.

And so have I.

"How is it," Darken said. "That the two women who have always been there for me, no matter how dire the battle, or how hopeless things seemed, and most especially no matter how confused I was . . .how is it you both know the right thing to do?"

Liandra shrugged, which caused her fairies to jump off her shoulders.

"You know the right thing too, Darken," Phoenix said. "It just takes both of us to get you to see it."

Darken looked up. The sun was high in the sky. It felt like a new day.

"It's not forever is it?" Darken said. "I can always come back and visit?"

Phoenix made a face. "Well of course, Darken," she said. "Did you think I was asking you to leave your home forever?"

Darken smiled. "Sorry," he said, smirking. "I was being dense."

"No surprise there," Liandra said. Darken turned to look at her.

"Hey," he said. Liandra was smiling.

Darken pulled her close, holding her. Tears flowed down his eyes. "I'm doing to miss you, little nightbird."

"I'll miss you too," she said. "You know . . .it’s been ages since you called me that."

"I know," he said. "I'll come back to see you. Make sure you take care of yourself. And don’t get lost . . .it's so easy to do."

"I know," she whispered. She felt her eyes dampen. They were both crying.

"I love you, dear Liandra," Darken said, his voice getting thick. "There's so much more you need to know . . .but I think you've got the best start I can give you."

"I love you too, big brother," she said. "Take care of yourself."

Her fairies were on her shoulders again, their faces seeming to shine more than usual. Darken's eyes narrowed. They were crying too, he thought.

They cried tears of golden light. Liandra herself was crying too, the hair that covered her missing eyes was beginning to mat and stick to her face.

Even Phoenix, who had been trying to put the best face on it, was crying too.

"Take care of my big brother, Phoenix," Liandra said. "You've meant the world to him. You saved him from killing himself, from giving into his despair after Maryna died."

"And he's helped me too," Phoenix said. "He reminds me of my responsibility, and he personifies what I'm trying to protect."

She looked back at him, and smiled a very mischievous smile. "Even if he kisses by the book."

Darken rolled his eyes. It's like she never left, he thought, blushing.

Phoenix's firebird aura appeared, and a doorway opened. It looked almost like a gate, but the way seemed longer, less certain.

Almost like our destiny now, Darken thought. It's all brand new. For me, for Phoenix, for Liandra. It's a second chance, and a new start.

He walked over and embraced Liandra one more time. "I can't say it, little sister," he said, fresh tears welling in his eyes. "I can’t say goodbye."

"Then don't," Liandra said. "It would mean you never intended to see me again, and we both know that's not going to happen. Take care out there. My heart is with you."

"And mine with you," Darken said. "Remember what you taught me. Destiny is ours to shape."

"I will."

Darken and Phoenix walked to the gate. Phoenix paused and looked at Liandra. "I'll take good care of him," she said. "I promise."

"I'll hold you to it," Liandra said. "Goodbye, Phoenix Romanova."

Phoenix walked through the gate. Darken looked back to Liandra.

"Go with my love, Liandra," he said.

"And you with mine," Liandra said. She watched him walk through the gate. It swirled and closed, vanishing as if it had never been there at all. Liandra sighed, realizing she had been holding her breath the whole time.

Darken and Phoenix were gone. One chapter of her life had ended, and she could feel a new one beginning as the bright sun, full of warmth and hope rose on a new day.

Liandra stood a little straighter. No more destinies, nothing is written for us to follow, she thought. Anything is possible, and a new story begins.

She felt sad, yes, but she also felt a new sense of hope. Things would never be the same again. Darken had seen to that. New beginnings, she thought. New starts. That was what Darken got, what he gave others--me, Vertigo, so many other people, and all he had to give the world in the end.

It falls to me, and people like me to make the most of it. We may succeed, and then again we might fail, but it's always good to know that we have another chance.

There is always another chance.

"Hell of a story," the bartender said, brushing a wet and dirty rag over the water ring left by a glass. His hair, looking like it hadn’t been cut in ages, hung from his shoulders.

"The weird thing is," the hooded girl at the bar said, sipping from her mug. "Is it's all true. That's actually kind of how I got here."

"Everyone is here at one time or another," the bartender said. He waved a hand out to the people seated at the tables. "They drift in and out, but they always come back here with something new. Lot like life, really--you come, you go, but you always have new trophies of comings and goings."

"Like new stories?" The hooded girl asked.

"Especially those."

"I have to say," she began, pointing at her glass. The bartender refilled it. "I've never heard of a bar that paid for everything in stories. Especially when I have so much gold here . . ."

"Ehhhh," the bartender said, waving his hands at her dismissively. "Save it for the jukebox."

"Jukebox?"

"That thing over there in the corner, by the table with the two Japanese guys," the bartender said, wiping his hands on his faded jeans and gesturing over to it at the same time.

The girl turned on her stool. At a table in the corner sat two men, their skin golden and their hair long. The swords they had come in with lay on a chair next to them. They were busy trying to drain the contents of a strange bottle.

What had the bartender called it? The girl wondered? Oh yeah . . .a . . .sake bottle. Whatever that is . . .they seem to be enjoying it.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out a single gold piece. She rolled it between her fingers, took another sip from her cup and walked over to the jukebox.

She had been in several bars before, but none like this. Or more to the point, none that had a clientele as varied as these. Besides the two next to the jukebox, she spied another man in the opposite far corner, his hair long and braided, idly smoking a cigarette and playing cards with two very pale women. His green eyes regarded her coldly, and he went back to his cards.

Looks as though you got a bad hand, she thought, still fumbling the coin in her palm. Kind of like I had. She walked past another man, younger, this one clad in blue armor. From the back he looked like a dragon, but now that she was closer, she could see he wasn't. She stopped herself from gasping and squeezed past him.

She looked down at the jukebox and realized, with a slight chill, that she had no idea how to operate it. She laid the gold coin on the glass case, and peered down into the case. There was a list of titles, some of them very strange.

She felt someone bump against her. Water spilled onto her cloak. She turned and looked at the person responsible.

The blue-clad brunette blushed, her eyes apologetic and embarrassed.

"Forgive me, cherie," she said. "Didn't mean to do that . . .here, let me fix it."

She waved a hand over the wet spot and it was gone. She blinked and looked at the woman. The woman smiled and shrugged as if it were something she did all the time.

"Sorry," she said. "Must be the liquor, but I felt a bit like showing off."

"It's all right," the girl said, fixing her cloak. "Er . . .maybe you can help me?"

"Sure, cherie? What do ya need?"

"Uhm . . .the guy at the bar . . .he suggested the jukebox? I don't really know why but . . ."

The woman looked over her shoulder and nodded. "Oh," she said. "Him. Figures. Well, you take this coin here. . .and put it here. . .Ooo! Gold, you get two plays . . ."

"Plays?"

"I forgot that?" The woman said. "Oy. Uhm . . .yeah . . .it plays music . . .watch, I'll show you. Do you mind if I use one of your plays?"

The girl shrugged. "I haven't really understood a word you've said, so yeah, go ahead."

"Okay," the woman said, tapping the buttons below the case. "Yeah . . .this song's one of my favorites."

"What's it called?"

" 'In The Shadow of a Wave,' " the woman said. She smiled very guiltily. "Can't help it . . .it has sentimental value."

"Thanks," the girl said, wiping one of her argent strands of hair out of her face. She listened to the strains of the song. That voice, she thought. I've heard it before.

She smiled, slowly putting a face to voice and walking back to the bar. The bartender was there waiting for her with a fresh cup.

"Thanks," she said. "Who was that lady?"

"Her?" The bartender asked, smiling. "Oh you know. A goddess. Good friend of mine. Loves that song. Every few days or so, she's in here. Glass of ice water, and change for the jukebox. Always wants to hear that song. "

The girl listened to it. "I feel like I know the singer."

"Of course you do," the bartender said. "You might even see him again."

"He'll come here?"

The bartender shook his head. "I think he's earned his rest, don’t you? He's gone through a lot of crap in his time. He's owed downtime."

"Given who he's with, you have to wonder he'll get much of one."

"Oooooh," the bartender said, smiling his half-smile. "Do I detect a note of jealousy?"

"Of course not," she said. "But they haven't had much quiet time, and they just went through hell . . .you have to wonder . . ."

"I don’t have to wonder," the bartender said, polishing a glass. "I'll hear the story, one day. Just like I hear everyone's story."

"Just like mine, huh?"

"Well," the bartender said, refilling her cup. "There's more of your story to be told. You’re a bit too young to be a lifer in this joint, young lady. Long way to go before your story is told."

"A lifer?"

The bartender closed his eyes for a minute. He leaned in close to her and pointed to the two Japanese men at the table.

"See those two?" He began. "One of them is here for good. His story's told. His son will leave here soon. He's going to find his own way, if you can imagine that. His story will be different from his father's. And when his story is done, he'll join his father here, forever. This is the end of the line, and the beginning."

"I guess so," the girl said. "Nothing lasts forever, after all."

"Nothing ever ends, either." he said.

"The beginning and end of the line," she said.

"It's the end for you, anyway," the bartender said, turning her cup down. "It's last call for ya."

She smiled. "I'm not even drunk."

"You didn’t come in here to get drunk," he said.

"Then this is the first time I've used a bar for something other than its intended purpose. So tell me, wise one, if I didn't come here to get drunk, what did I come in here for?"

"Same as everyone else," he said, his blue green eyes looking into hers. "To tell me your story and start a new one. You got a second chance. Just like Darken, Phoenix, Liandra, and their whole world. Just like you. Make the most of it, hon. When the time comes around again . . .we'll be waiting."

She nodded and slid off the stool. A lock of silver hair fell from her hood. She tried to brush it back behind her ear, but to no avail. She sighed and blew it out of her face as she opened the door of the bar.

The sun was out, and the day was hot, but not uncomfortable. The cloak felt too hot. She shrugged it off and cast it aside.

There was a cool breeze, which made the air seem light and balmy. She shook her hair, long and silver out. It felt good to be alive, she thought.

Again.

She looked at the road before her. It went straight ahead into the horizon, toward who knew where.

Seems like I spend most of my life walking down unknown roads. But now, so is Darken. Who knows . . . maybe we'll meet again somewhere down the line?

Vertigo laughed like a child and started down the road.

Nothing lasts forever, but nothing ever ends, she thought.

It was the end of one chapter the beginning of another.

Past what had been written, to the uncertain story they write themselves.

To a second chance.