The silver colored tombstone is situated off to one of the less populated sides of the cemetery. Immediately nearby there are only two others"Celfina Cher and Gene Colista. Despite how sparse the area is, it is still well maintained; the grass surrounding the stones is always cut and a bench has been set up for visitors.

The tombstone itself is an expensive yet simple affair. Engraved across the top is the young man's name: Skyler Jackson Chamberland. Besides dates, the only other text is, "Our Love With You?. Those that had loved him were unable to find any more words that would aptly express their emotions.

It was her second visit. Much like the first, she knelt before the tombstone with her head bowed as if in prayer. "It's your J-bug, baby." It killed her, physically hurt, every time she thought about the fact that she would never hear him call her that again, ever. "I should have told you this, I think you would have wanted to know it," her voice was already getting thick with tears. "I know"I know that you were jealous of Alex. You shouldn't be." There was a long pause where she squeezed her eyes shut, realizing what she had said. "You shouldn't have been." She had to stop using the wrong verb tense, it was a shock to her system every time she had to correct herself, remind herself that he was dead.

Skyler is dead. It kept sounding in her head over and over again, echoing as if in a lofty cavern. There were no other thoughts besides that, nothing else to think about anymore. Day and night, it was: Skyler is dead, Skyler is dead, Skyler is dead.

Even now, the cruel mantra was slowly pushing out what she had wanted to say to him. She clung to her other thoughts, wanting so desperately to tell him this. It was a useless gesture; he couldn't hear her today anymore than he could the day before. But, if she didn't tell him these things, her thoughts and feelings, she was afraid they would no longer exist.

"I wanted to tell you that you complete," she flinched, "completed me. You made me feel whole. I was wrong; no person has just one soul mate"that can't be right. We make our matches and there are people out there that can fill that gaping whole inside of us. And you did that." Her crying became heavier, an occasional sob breaking up her wording, "I didn't tell you and you did that for me. And now you're not here and"and I need you."

Her arms snaked about herself, her body folding down until her back was arched painfully and her forehead rested on her knees as she cried.

Later, she was a little more composed. She reached out, tracing the letters of his name with her fingertips; her skin was wrinkled because of the extreme cold. "I need to repay you, my love." Her tone was soft, that lover's whisper once more. It was like she was just sharing secrets with him again. "It's my fault your life was ended this way, so early"too soon. It's my fault," her breath hitched, "of course it's my fault. How could I have done this to you?" Her own voice sounded dream-like in her mind, "I need to repay you."

Her movements felt slow as she lifted up her other hand, eyeing the small razor blade she clutched. She turned her other arm over, fingers trailing over his name one more time before she took the razor and used it to form a line of red horizontally on the underside of her lower left arm. She knew it was risky, she could even see the blue vein pulsing beneath her skin, but she was past caring about such things. Jewell didn't even flinch.

"One cut for every year of your life I took away from you."

It almost sounded as though Jewell truly believed she was the only one responsible Skyler's death. Perhaps she did, her view of the world was certainly skewed at the time being. This ritual that she was instigating was not necessarily a way to punish herself for her deeds or alleviate the emotional pain she was experience; it was her way of repaying him for what she felt she had taken away.

"My blood for yours, love." So saying, she leaned forward to press her lips against the cold stone where the word "love" was engraved; she also turned her arm over again, squeezing her fist and allowing her blood to drip down from the cut and land on the dirt before his headstone.

Only a few drops landed to stain the ground before her naturally quick healing kicked in, clotting the shallow cut fully. It would scab by day's end and heal completely over the next few days, leaving only a thin white scar as a testament. Tomorrow another would join it, and another the day after that. Eighty-two, she counted out in her mind. Eighty-two plus eighteen, she wanted her Adone to live to one hundred. They would have spent those eight-two years together.

Another sleepless night, the only rest she got was when she passed out after exhausting herself with crying, a day to be spent at the cemetery. Where else was she to go' She didn't find joy in anything. This activity, sitting and speaking to Skyler, was the closest thing to comfort she could find.

She was particularly emotional today, shaking uncontrollably as she knelt. Even her voice trembled as she spoke, "I bet you'd laugh and make fun of me if you could see me now." Her whole look was awry. Not only were her eyes still red-rimmed and swollen but they were blood shot as well. Her cheeks were starting to look gaunt, her skin drawn. While clean, her clothes and hair barely looked neat and presentable, as she used to like them to.

"I'm such a mess, such a mess without you. It's been a week"who would have thought I'd be such a wreck without you, huh?" She tried to laugh but tears sprang to her eyes and the laugh became a sob instead. "I knew. I let you in"all the way"and now I'm lost."

"They keep saying it won't hurt so bad, but it will. I can't believe this, I can't accept it. This isn't how it's supposed to be." She wasn't quiet, speaking softly as she had on previous days. Rather, her tone was vehement, heated. "I can't believe you're never going to be here with me again." And now the crescendo, "I don't want to believe it!" She tacked on one more, soft, "I can't believe it," before her body wilted, crumbling down. "Please"I'm not strong enough to live with this. I'm not."

Her body shook violently as she cried. "You were right; you told me I was really sensitive inside"I am. I don't have it all together. I did with you; I thought I did. Now"I'm so lost, baby. I'm just lost."

She took in deep, shuddering, breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. "One week, Skyler"a whole week. A week without you and I don't want to live through one more like it." She scrubbed roughly at her face with her hands. "All this sadness and sorrow"that's all I see stretched before me now." She swallowed hard, "I used to be so scared of the immortality that lays before me and now"it's just more terrifying than ever. Every day just like this one?"

She sat still for a long while, her body quaking. "I went to the Inn last night"first time since it?" a rough shake of her head given. "I didn't want to go, but I had to go to work. They told me I need to leave the house; I'm not allowed to just let myself fade away inside my room...our room. It was our room." She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Everyone is trying to be so nice to me but it just doesn't matter. I don't want their sympathies and their consoling words. I want you and they can't give me that, the only thing I'd ever ask from anyone. One single thing I want."

She looked around for some form of solace in the landscape, dead and barren in the midst of winter, around her. "What am I going to do without you, m"love" I'm just not ready to let you go, yet. I never want to let you go."

"I miss the way you drive'drove me crazy"made me angry by being such a jerk." She laughed a little again even as tears streamed down her face, managing not to mix it with a sob this time, "Because you were a jerk, you know" An absolute ass, at times. But I loved it on some level. Did I tell you that' I love that you don't," a frown, 'didn't, play their games. You didn't let me push you around, either, or always get my way. I wasn't just on some pedestal for you, we were real together."

"You were my challenge, and I loved every second of it."

She had to take a few more of those deep breaths before continuing. "You were different, My Sky, so, so special. I can't even think of being with someone whose not you?I don't want to think of that! I just want you."

There was a brief period of silence before, "But I screwed that up. I should have stayed the hell away from you?I screw everyone up. But I just couldn't." Her tone was so self-condemning, that old familiar pattern picked back up.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be as good to you as you were to me, baby. And you were good to me. You didn't like to think you were, I don't know why, but you were."

She quickly performed that ritualistic cut, "One more year I took from you, love.?

"Someone wrote us a letter." She stared at the piece of paper, left upon his headstone, oddly as she sat in her usual spot. "I'll read it to you," she murmured. She said it as if she really believed he would listen when she read.

There are a million weathered phrases people say that are meant to help those grieving some loss. In the end, though, they offer little comfort, so I won't do you the disservice of repeating them.

You have only two choices: Live, or die.

If you choose to die, then do so quickly at least. Paying penance by dying slowly is ultimately pointless. Just remember, if you make that choice, that you condemn many other people to grieve for you — chances are, many others already are. You will, with your death, curse them to mourn you....just as you currently mourn someone else.

She paused in the middle of the paragraph, shivering a moment. The fact that she could make someone else feel this awful was unpleasant, to say the least.

That isn't meant to dissuade you, if that's your decision — it's simply a matter of fact. It's your choice to make, and no one else can make it for you; ultimately, they can't judge you for it either.

If you choose to live, then do so. It never seems, when we're suffering, that there will be an end to it — it seems, as you well know, that the grief will never lessen or fade. The memories of love become nothing more than pain, which haunts us in the day and chases us into our dreams. How many times do you wake up reaching for a ghost' And every time, upon waking and finding yourself alone, the misery renews itself.

She had checked her tears until this point. However, the last three lines were too overwhelming for her; even as she read them, tears began to spill over. "I reach for you every night," was her tortured whisper to Skyler. She held the paper away from her, only bringing it close again to resume reading when her tears no longer fell so thickly; she didn't want to smudge the ink.

She continued reading the rest silently to herself.

It seems like there will never be a lessening of it....but there will.

Whoever you loved so much to cause you such pain now does not deserve to be the blade by which you cut yourself. Unless they were ultimately unkind, then in no world or time would they want you to suffer this much. Grief is one thing; self-destruction on the pyre of love is another. If you choose to live, then honor that person by not using your love and theirs as a means to destroy yourself — you'll be destroying the very thing that person loved to begin with.

That gave her cause to pause in her reading. She looked to the tombstone set before her, really looked at it, before looking back down at the paper in her hand. The ritual she had created was never meant as a way to destroy herself. She knew self-destruction in many forms and did not see the small cuts on her arms as falling under that category. Yet, she had to wonder if she was merely blinding herself to the truth of what she was doing.

She shook her head forcefully, trying to clear her mind of those thoughts.

I don't know you. That, likewise, is a statement of fact. But I do know grief, and what it can do to a person, so allow me the presumption of offering some advice. It's your decision on whether you take it.

You are not weak for grieving, or feeling overcome by that grief. You are not weak for wishing for the suffering to end, or trying to find ways to distract yourself from it — you're hurting, and it is all right to hurt.

It's also all right to ask for help. There are people who love you in the world; sometimes, it's easy to forget that. You likely already know and love them, or perhaps there are people you didn't know who love you but would gladly tell you if given the opportunity. You are not weak for grieving, and you are not weak if you need help to get through that grief.

The person you lost cannot save you, nor can the people who love you now. You have to make the choice to save yourself, and then do so by any means necessary — put down your blade, write letters, try to talk to friends. Let someone hold you, let yourself mourn, and try to hang onto the knowledge that this too shall pass. No one can save you, but they can help you.

You just have to let them.

Remember: You were and are loved. And love never dies.

She had cried through the rest of her reading, that never-ending well of tears flowing forth silently. When she was done, she gave a brief glance around, only now thinking to look for who wrote this. Someone she didn't know had been able to express some of her sentiments so clearly on paper; had not offered her the sympathy and pity she disdained from others.

When she didn't immediately see someone she continued her silent vigil, not speaking once since she finished reading; the letter, along with her conversation with Kairee the night before, gave her a lot of food for thought. She did not read it again just yet; it was tucked away safely in the brown suede jacket she wore once more.

Despite what was written, she still cut her arm before leaving.

It had been two weeks now and Jewell was still visiting the cemetery every day. Oddly enough, she had stopped her ritualistic cutting after Saturday's visit; the explanation as to why was known only to herself and perhaps the dead. "You have to stop. You have to stop because I say you have to;" although usually defiant and independent, Jewell could not refuse a request, a demand, of Skyler's even if it came from beyond the grave. She was extremely loyal in that way.

Being allowed to speak with Skyler one more time had not provided her with the closure she felt she needed. It had been a final kick in the stomach while she was down; it was like someone waving a much-envied prize before her face and then yanking it out of reach forever. A cold bucket of water had been poured over her head, shocking her into harsh reality: Skyler was dead and that was that.

She had been trying very hard all week to be the "happy-go-lucky Jewell" that he had told her to be. It was a sad farce, but in time she could perfect it. Even when in the graveyard, she tried to temper her grief.

"Everyone"almost, has been really nice to me." She rested her chin on her knees, appearing to stare at the tombstone; her eyes, dry for now, were really looking through or past it. "Even Vanion said something nice to me. It was very unexpected, maybe that'll teach me about judging people, hmm?"

"You know, it's been two weeks now. This is crazy"I don't want to be without you." Her brow furrowed, eyes focusing in on his name. "I still cry at night. I wake up from my nightmares and I reach for you, and you're not there. And when the light shines through the drapes and I don't feel like getting up yet, I try to snuggle up against your body and the sheets are just cold and untouched where you should be." Her words started coming out shaking towards the end, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. She brushed them away and none returned to replace them. She wouldn't allow it.

"I'm getting better, I'm trying"just for you, because you told me to. I've just been going out and forcing myself to be social. It's hard because sometime someone will say something, or do something and it reminds me of you, or that I don't have you with me. All this pain inside just comes rushing back, then, and I buckle"I come near to breaking apart all over again." She had to close her eyes so tight it hurt to stop the tears. He had told her to be happy'she would not break down.

"You know I miss your laugh' You would have been laughing during my shift last night." She couldn't contain a little sigh, "I miss you being there and being able to sneak in kisses in between making drinks." She forcibly returned her line of conversation where it was meant to be, "These two guys were talking about seducing Renna"yeah, that Renna. I'd like to see them try."

For a while she just sat, silent, eyes turning dreamy and unfocused once more. "I've been avoiding it, but I'm going to read your Ledger. I want to, need to, hold on to you somehow. I'm almost scared to find out what you really thought of me, though," narrowing her eyes on the tombstone once more, as if it would reveal the truth of his opinion of her. "I know I shouldn't be?just old fears that are always waiting around for the opportune moment to take hold of me again."

She pressed her lips together, pursing them as she thought something over. "I went to one of those spell shops, got a endurance spell to put on your sweatshirt. I know it sounds silly," her own tone indicated how ridiculous she thought she was being, "but now it won't wear out or stop smelling like you?I can wear it as much as I want. And I do." She was currently wearing it although it was not enough to really keep her warm in the sub-zero temperatures that were currently cooling RhyDin down.

She rocked back and forth a little, trying to keep her blood flowing; she didn't want to accidentally freeze. "I came really close to winning my fight for the League the other night. No one mentioned you the whole night"that was good, it just plain hurts to hear someone mention you, you know?" A little frown at her own question, accidentally asked. "Never mind. You don't know and if I keep doing this, sitting here talking to you and asking you questions when I know you can't hear me, people are going to think I'm crazy." The slightest hint of a wild grin rose, her voice oh-so-soft, "Maybe I am."

In place of the former ritual she had summarily given up, she had introduced a new one. Groaning a little as she rose, her body was stiff from sitting in the cold for so long, she leaned forward and kissed his engraved name; "I love you."

Her body was aching as she dropped into her usual spot before the headstone, "Hello, hello m"love."

She let the greeting, uttered unenthusiastically, suffice for a time as she watched her breath come out in white puffs of air. She liked just sitting silently, comforted by the fact that no one"as far as she knew"was watching her. "I went down to the arena and dueled last night."

There was another space of silence as she started to shift anxiously. "I used your sword," she whispered, afraid he'd be angry. Naturally, there was no response but she still seemed apprehensive in confessing this to the nothingness around her, "I wanted to honor you somehow. Go down there and kick ass"just for you." She gave a little sigh and shifted once more, "Not that I did that"I'm just not very good yet. I'm better at no-rules, knock-down, drag-out style, you know" Like, just putting all my heart and soul and energy into the fight and using every move I know even if it's a cheap shot." Her fist clenched at her side, nervous energy and all. "When I learned how to fight, it was with one goal in mind"take your opponent out no matter what, use any force you needed to get the job done. Playing by the rules," she shook her head, 'doesn't fit with that."

"I wasn't very good at all. I beat Tass"but he always goes easy on me, I think, and then G"Nort totally shut me out. I won't blame it on this, but it was distracting just being in that arena. All I kept thinking about was being there with you and cheering you on." Her eyes started to gleam with tears, "I did an okay job keeping composed but it's not getting any easier, Sky. It's not!"

She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them, "I want this pain to go away"I want you back.? She craned her neck, lowering her forehead to rest on her knees instead; her body shook as she started to cry again.

If she had been slow and stiff the other day, she was practically crawling as she approached Skyler's headstone today. She even whimpered a little as she knelt on the ground, her bruised knees protesting greatly. Oddly enough, she only applied more pressure on them; she really was becoming masochistic in a way. "I went and got myself beat up good in the Outback last night, just like I wanted too."

"Actually, I would have preferred to take a few more blows," she flexed her right hand, her knuckles bruised and a little cut up. "I participated in four fights, Sky, four! And only Koy beat me. That wasn't a big surprise, I fought her knowing I was going to lose but I did put up a pretty good fight'she's the one that beat me up the best. The others were kind of a surprise though. I beat Elly, she's that little red-haired witch; she didn't really hit me hard enough, unfortunately," wrinkling her nose. "Then Bran, or did I fight Tass next?" She gave an empty little laugh, "I can't even blame faulty memory on getting hit in the head too many times, because I didn't. I guess I'll blame the tequila."

She'd been drinking an awful lot whenever she went out lately. Maybe everyone thought she was just drowning her sorrow, but that wasn't quite it. She was numbing herself. If she didn't and had to stand in the Inn, or the Arena, and listening to all those people talk and carry on happily she would probably scream. In fact, she knew she would scream. She poured whiskey, tequila, or that lovely faerie wine down her throat to hold it all back. The Empress did not go around shouting at people for no reason, it just wasn't done.

"Whoever went first, I beat them both. It felt kind of good, but I think it would have felt better if they'd totally slaughtered me. Just punch after punch"I would have taken them, every single one! Again and again and again until I couldn't think straight because my body was reeling," both hands clenched tightly, nails embedding themselves in her palms.

She was breathing heavily, her head lowered. "I hate this," her voice trembled out. "I don't want this pain to become familiar"I don't want it to exist at all. I just want," she stopped herself; useless pleading and begging hadn't been doing her any good. "I guess it doesn't matter what I want."

Distraught and hung-over, there was only one place she wanted to be. However, since in bed, or bath, with her beau was not an option any longer, she opted for the next best thing.

The cemetery was deathly silent in the early hours of the morning, big surprise. She was appropriately dressed for the weather this time, so she wasn't shaking from the cold when she approached his headstone. However, shaking and trembling she was. She just stood before the stone, not taking her usual seat. "I was flirting with this guy last night."

She took in a few, deep, shuddering breaths, "I was kind of flirting with this guy, and I was drunk. And it suddenly struck me that I didn't want to be flirting with him, having him admire my hair, or touch my cheek. I wanted it to be you sitting across from me. And I just freaked! And I wanted to get away but he didn't want me to go?"

She stopped, dropping suddenly to her knees and wrapping her arms about the headstone to keep herself up, "I couldn't sleep because I didn't want to have nightmares and I just needed you so bad. And you're not here and I needed you." She had started crying somewhere in-between the start and finish of the outpouring of events; she didn't stop for a very long time.

Gasher, the shy fire mage, emerged from the darkness behind Skyler's tombstone. He was dressed like a typical late night cemetary-goer, a long black cloak, the hood fully drawn. In the shadows of the hood, his eyes shone orange, glowing with his element. He had been here visiting his friend, and had slipped away into the shadows when he sensed Jewell approaching. Jewell wasn't the only one who missed Skyler. Though the tension between Jewell and Gasher had always been high because of their contradicting magical elements, the sorcerer ignored the aversion he usually felt toward the woman. This morning they were simply two people with something in common, an empty place in their hearts for a departed friend.

He did not apologize for eavesdropping on her one-sided conversation with Skyler. He simply offered advice that he knew was sound. Gasher had known Skyler well and he knew exactly what to tell Jewell in this situation.

"No one wants to be alone," he told her, softly. "I know one thing for sure " Skyler wouldn't be upset that you kissed anyone. Hell, he'd probably be upset at you for waiting so long to find the comfort of someone else."

Gasher kept his distance from Jewell, speaking to her from the fringe of the shadows. Most folks" personal bubble was three feet. The shy sorcerer's was usually about ten feet. "No, of course you're not horrible. You're a wonderful person, and it's time to go back to acting like it again. I confess I don't know you personally, but Skyler always talked to me about you. He never had anything but fond things to say."

Beneath the deep cowl, the orange glow of Gasher's eyes intensified. The shy sorcerer's eyes had always been mirrors of his emotions. Jewell's question had annoyed him. "Tommy kills whoever he feels like killing. When he kills someone, it's not anyone's fault but his. Don't blame yourself."

Gasher lowered his head. A feathery mist marked his breath, issuing from the shadows of his hood. "If anyone besides Tommy is to blame, it's me. I was in the house when it happened. I saw the lights flicker when the power surge came. I smelled the flesh burning."

The fire mage seemed to be gazing down at the grave beneath Jewell, where the charred body of Skyler lay six feet under the soil. He continued to speak, though more softly, seemingly to himself. "I don't know why I keep coming back here. I've mourned long enough now. For some reason . . . I keep thinking he'll come back. I keep thinking he's not really gone. Something deep down inside me thinks I'll come to this grave one day and find nothing but a big hole." He picked his head up, and orange orbs of light fixed on Jewell once again. "I keep on thinking about ressurection. Reincarnation. That sort of thing. Such things are all too common on this planet, you know? Somehow, I just keep hoping he'll come back."

The shy sorcerer didn't wait for another response from Jewell. He simply wandered away into the darkness, muttering to himself.

It was midmorning by the time Jewell managed to rouse herself from the drunken stupor she had forced herself into in the company of Cieara DeAuster the previous evening. The night before had been a bad one, very bad, and she had needed half the bottle of faerie wine to keep herself from breaking down into a weepy mess or, the more likely option, attacking any person who came near her"friend or foe.

She stopped a few feet away from her usual spot, looking at Skyler's headstone and the space around it. Through her pounding headache, she remembered Tommy's words about pissing on Skyler's grave. She snarled"he was more than likely bull shitting her but she would not take that chance. This was one more thing to get Tommy back for, and she would. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she would. She lifted her hand up, the snow surrounding Skyler's grave following the motion of her hand. She then made a flippant gesture and again the snow followed, flying over the cemetery fence. She next pulled moisture from the air and had it surround the headstone. She sped up the water molecules, faster and faster until the water turned into steam, superheated and cleansing; she made it spin about the stone until it was sparkling clean then let the vapor dissipate back into the air.

She nodded in satisfaction; there was only one more thing to do. She stepped forward, placing her hand on top of the headstone and closing her eyes. She should have done this from the beginning, but she hadn't thought anyone had the audacity to profane this place which she now held as sacred. Reaching out, she used her magic to weave wards around this small spot. They were simple but strong: mana energy manipulated and built up to prevent anyone with malicious intent from doing harm to this spot and a type of warning system to inform her if anyone tried to disrupt the wards themselves.

With that done, and the world spinning around her as she had over-exerted her badly abused body, she stumbled forward a moment before letting herself fall in a tumble of limbs before the stone. "Bad night'so bad," her one hand came up to shield her face from the harsh, glaring, winter sun. "Bad from start to finish."

"I stopped in the Inn after watching the city all day and all these love songs assaulted me." She gave out a little laugh that sounded like insanity, "Irony likes to strike me down. A punch in the gut! Songs about holding hands and "you'll be in my heart' and there's poor Jewell without someone to dance with." Her tone was bitter, her name coming out like a curse. "But no, that's not true. They were willing to dance with me"they're all just lining up for me or something and you're the only one that I want. We danced together at the last party and last night you weren't there?"

She was breathing heavily, trying not to fly apart at the seams, "I should have left but I stayed to be Sissy's eyes because she was busy behind the bar and"Tommy came in."

Fingers found the roots of her hair and pulled, "I wanted to snap, baby. I could have leveled that whole Inn with everyone inside just to get to him! He'll get his, though, I promise you he will. It may be twenty years from now"but I'll get him. I just have to be patient; it's so hard to be." She pulled harder at her hair, "I told Wyh, Des and Icer not to touch him." Her hands lowered, fingers parting a little so she can stare in fury at the headstone, "He's mine."

"He was trying to taunt me. Said I should be glad he killed you before you could find out what I really am." She paused, rocking herself a little, "What am I, Sky' I'm loyal to you. I am! I haven't turned into some stupid whore. I told him that I'm going to be the end of him'should have just kept my mouth shut. Seeing him just threw me off so bad, though. I didn't know what to do."

"Then these two chicks were badmouthing you and"you know, if Tommy hadn't been there I would have lost it on them. I came so close." She was getting all riled up again just thinking about it, blue energy haloing her skin, "They all underestimate me"think they can say whatever the hell they want, but they can't." She slammed her first into the ground at her side, raw mana energy strengthening the blow and indenting the ground; "They can't."

"All I wanted to do afterwards was get drunk"forget myself and this whole messed up world. Julie tried to stand in my way. Idiot. Thinks she's bigger than I am, can tell me what to do." She brought her hands up into her hair again, nails digging into the skin of her scalp, "I told her not to touch me'she called me a spoiled child. A child!"

She tossed her head back, her laughter bordering on insane once more and full of cynicism; "Oh yes"I'm so very spoiled. I'm out there every single day, running myself into the ground for this city, putting my life on the line for their safety, for the preservation of my friends. I take care of my kids"I'm there for everyone when they need me even when I'm dying inside, when this emptiness is absolutely eating me apart and breaking me down." Her voice was loud, frenzied, before suddenly falling to a harsh whisper, "And I'm spoiled."

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, the pounding in her head increasing, "I am spoiled, aren't I" Everyone keeps helping me and I just keep falling apart." She clawed at her face with her nails, "Tass probably needed me last night and I was so wasted"just wasting away.?

She had taken the entire day off"all her responsibilities set aside"to do this one task. For the irreligious, Jewell certainly had prepared a religious way of honoring the dead. Digging into her past, she had retrieved a special memory: visiting the Lands for the memorial of her parents" death. The humans of Aquarius had thrown a lavish memorial for the death of their king and queen'days spent in worldwide mourning, priceless gifts and sacrifices offered up to their goddesses. It was supposed to honor them. Even then, it had disgusted her. It had been meaningless and it certainly didn't bring her parents back. It did not honor who they had been.

The Fae, though"their ceremony had been beautiful. It had given her peace of mind, a center, while she reeled from the death of half her family. She was trying to recreate that day now. She bathed in the morning, not her usual half-hour of indulgent relaxation but a ritualistic cleansing in her element. Mediation was the key, while she was submerged in water, to finding a center of balance. Every inch of her skin was scrubbed; she could not have the stain of the desire for death and vengeance staining her on this day.

Afterwards, she decorated her naked body with natural paints of blue and grey, representing water calm and water tumultuous. The paint swirled and spiraled over her skin in patterns that may have seemed meaningless to some but were meant to be comforting, consoling. They were to bring balance and peace to a soul tormented with grief. She even used a very thin brush to apply the paint to her face, like flames licking at the corners of her cheeks and swirling around her eyes.

A white piece of cloth was draped over her body when the paint was dry, its texture reminiscent of flower petals. It was not warm enough for the clime but the weather would not bother her today. She left the house barefoot, too, walking over the freshly fallen snow. Virgin, she thought with a little laugh, so very rare in RhyDin.

She traversed the busy streets, looking like a beautiful wraith, holding her harp before her. Entering the cemetery, she moved single-mindedly to Skyler's grave and knelt before it, a sad smile resting easily upon her lips. "It's been a month, m"love. I promise I'm not here to wail and cry, though. I'm going to try and do the mourning ceremony of my people. It's supposed to be done soon after a person dies, but," giving a little laugh, "I forgot about it until the other day. I was never a very good student of fey-traditions." Fingers brushed over the strings of her harp as she shook her head; she had been a rather poor student, actually. "I'll try to get it right, but I was very young when I saw it done."

She adjusted the harp in her lap and cleared her throat a little before her fingers started to move over the strings. The sound that rose from the instrument was sad and sweet, hypnotic, perhaps, when mixed with her voice. The words she chanted from memory were in Elvish. She couldn't recollect the full meaning of all the songs she sang; they spoke of heartache and pain, of lingering memories and never forgetting. They whisked the listener away, reassuring them that death had touched the long-lived before, that pain can fade with time for the elder races, that balance can be found and life will go on. They were memories of the past, a medium through which all could share the pain of the loss. Tears formed and fell as she sang on, not the smallest tremble touching her voice and interrupting the hymn.

Many songs were stories: elven princes bereft of their dearest loves and a faerie queen whose king and daughter had been killed by a goblin lord. The latter had always been one of her favorites, even as a little girl. The queen, so bereaved at the loss, left her kingdom and wandered the lands aimlessly for one hundred years. She became legend; a wandering ghost calling out in a haunting voice for her loved ones. In the meantime, the goblin lord overran her kingdom and set himself on her throne. He ruled the land with an iron fist and no one could depose him. The people were miserable and many sought their mourning queen but she remained elusive, lost to her grief and the world. As the years waned, she heard whisperings of what was happening in her kingdom, and slowly came to an awareness of the world outside her sorrow to find herself far from home.

She traveled back, over mountains and through many foreign woods to return to her homeland, finding it in ruin from the goblin lord's many wars. Sorrow threatened to consume her anew, but she stood strong. None who saw the day would ever forget her return, when the doors to the throne room flew open to reveal their queen standing there. Although stained and worn from her long travels, she stood radiant in the doorway, haloed by the sun that many claimed had not shone in their lands since the death of the queen's consort.

The goblin lord was old by this time but the faerie queen still retained the eternal youth of her people. With a mere gesture of her hand, the goblin lord's scepter broke in two and fell to the floor causing an audible clank in a room that had fallen deathly silent upon the entry of the queen, not even the ever present ruffle of skirts of shuffle of feet could be heard. There was a delayed gasp or two but the queen took no note, she was fixated on the goblin lord, fixated on the fear rising in his eyes. It made her smile. It was not the pleasant, welcoming smile of a monarch finally returned to her people, her place in life; it was vicious, that of a hunter who has limitless patience and has waited a very long time to get her prey cornered. Yes, she had her prey cornered now.

The goblin lord knew his back was against the wall. He squirmed on the throne, desperate to look around for a way to escape but his eyes were locked onto those of the faerie queen. She started walking towards him with measured steps and head held high. Two goblin guards that flanked the throne stepped forward to intercept her against their better judgment. In a blink of the faerie queen's eyes, they found themselves changing, altered. They looked to each other, astonished to see that they had morphed into kittens, of all things! Oh, for that is the power of the Fae. The little ones, present in the court and unaware of the significance of this day, laughed delighted at their queen's trick and chased the kittens out the door.

Her majesty stopped before the throne, her throne. It was soiled but she had returned to fix that, to fix everything and to live for the memory of those who had been forced to leave her behind in this life. The goblin lord had lived in security and it was now so rudely disrupted. She did not offer an explanation or condemnation to him. With a wave of her hand, the goblin lord twisting in fear at the gesture, she turned him into a statue of ice. His screams and cries could be heard coming from the statue as if from far away. "Set him out in the courtyard,? she commanded, several of the old faerie guard rushing forward to do their monarch's bidding. The queen retook her throne and the goblin lord melted away in the courtyard under the midday sun, his faint screams ignored by the laughing children.

At some point during the night, Gasher, the shy fire mage, made his way to the cemetery to visit Skyler. He trudged forlornly through the tombstones until he reached his friend's grave, then fell to his knees on the soil.

"What's it like, Sky ....on the other side?"

Gasher cuddled up next to the headstone, leaning sideways against it, gazing at the name etched upon the rock. With his head leaning against the cold surface, he talked to it as he would have spoken to Skyler, were the boy still around.

"Man, I miss staying up all night, drinking and playing pool and listening to your stories....It's so lonely at the mansion without you."

The shy sorcerer paused for a while, listening to the night sounds, his breath misting in front of his face.

"Tommy's been especially mean lately. He made me go up to your girlfriend " or, old girlfriend, or whatever " and say this really nasty thing to her. I didn't want to do it . . . but he made me." His tone of voice was ashamed and embarrassed.

"I wish there was some way to bring you back. We could kill him, you and I working together. We could kill Tommy. We could get the jump on him when he least expected it. But, you're gone. Gone forever. And there's nothing I can do about it."

Gasher traced his finger along the indentation of Skyler's name in the rock, looking at the letters lovingly.

"It's not fair that you're gone, you know" It's just not fair. You shouldn't have died. I have some good news for you, though. Your girlfriend Jewell" She seems to be a lot happier these days. She really grieved for a while, but now the process seems to be over with. I know how much you don't like people fretting or being sad over you, so I'm happy to report she's just fine again . . . I'm sorry I can't help that I'm still torn up though."

He looked up into the starry sky, sighing deeply.

"Why does death have to be so ....permanent, Sky' I wish I had the magic to summon you back, but I know no such magic exists. Right' I had this dream the other night. It was so strange. In it, I was having a conversation with this ancient wizard. He was lecturing me on some of the most powerful, long-forgotten arcane tactics. One was called "bending time." I didn't understand what he was saying about it, but that term stuck in my mind. I think I'll go to the library later and research the topic."

Gasher got to his knees and wrapped his arms around the tombstone, clutching himself against it in a bear hug. He hugged the wide, cold, lifeless slab of rock as if it was Skyler himself.

"Uhhhh....Ohhhh....oh, Crap!" Gasher froze as he saw the wolf. "Where did you come from?" he asked the animal, as if it could speak back to him.

The fire mage's reaction time was just quick enough. As the wolf lunged at him, he threw up a wall of fire to obscure himself from the beast's vision. Then he nimbly rolled out of the way, just in time to see it crash into the tombstone. Gasher sprang to his feet and sprinted away into the darkness, casting fireballs back over his shoulder to obstruct the wolf's path should it decide to chase after him.

After that freak lightning storm, which had Jewell hiding out in her house for the duration of the night, she could not resist stopping by the cemetery. She had every intention of keeping up her visits to Skyler's grave as often as possible anyways, even if she had tried to put an end to her mourning with the faerie ritual. The ritual really wasn't enough for her, only time could readjust her to the way things now were and one month was simply not long enough.

With two daisies in her hand, tied together with a thin white ribbon, she made her way into the cemetery. The weather was almost pleasant despite still being winter and she even hummed a little. That quickly stopped, however, when she came within sight of the familiar gray tombstone. She paused, keeping a fair distance, but eyes made for discerning all things could easily see what it was that occupied her spot.

Fear was not present. Rather, Jewell was righteously indignant! How dare anyone or thing be in her way. She came a few steps closer, her visage hardening over. The water fae obviously had been spending way too much time around Tara and Kitty for she was neither vampire nor feline-inclined but she let out a small hiss towards the direwolf all the same.

The direwolf didn't like trespassers. They were what he had been put here to drive away.

Once Jewell crossed an invisible line that the direwolf considered "the border line," it emitted a low, deep growl. Its lips pulled back from its teeth as its head swiveled in the fae's direction. Luminous green eyes locked onto the woman.

It rose to all fours, legs poised as if to pounce. The wolf's growl grew steadily louder, and suddenly there was a gnashing of teeth and a series of furious barks. It didn't know what Jewell's intentions were. Should she only be interested in sentimental procedures, the direwolf might let her piddle about the gravesite. Otherwise, it would certainly strike out at her.

All at once the gnashing and barking ceased, and in a hellish half-human voice, the direwolf addressed Jewell. "My name is Legion. Gorg fascinated him and my lord took him. Do you seek to contest my lord's sovereignty over this soul below?" The gleam in the direwolf's eyes, the poise of its legs suggested that if the fae answered affirmatively, it would lunge and rip out her throat.

***

During this time that the direwolf was distracted by Jewell must have been when Kitty had approached the tombstone. Because, had the wolf been aware of the other woman, it most assuredly would have gone for her jugular. It was that sort of thing that the wolf had been dispatched here to defend against " magic people " fire mages with thoughts of resurrection, cat ladies with the ability to pluck souls from hell. The prince of darkness coveted all his precious souls, but the soul of Skyler Jackson Chamberland was a special favorite. So special, in fact, that he had dispatched his personal servant, the fabled direwolf Legion, to guard against any attempt to wrest the soul from his dominion.

"Then I will rip you to shreds," replied Legion. This was not a threat, but a simple statement of fact. There was no arrogance or haughtiness in the direwolf's tone. It had seen much more formidable adversaries than this small woman.

Legion sized her up for a moment longer, then sniffed and looked away in boredom, dismissing the visitor. He was able to tell that she was talking bigger than she actually was. The direwolf was here to deal with threats greater than the likes of Jewell could pose. He would allow her to go about her sentimental ceremonial procedures, as long as she didn't annoy him.

She hesitated at the entrance to the cemetery. She had made brief visits since her encounter with the direwolf: leaving flowers, briefly updating the undead and unhearing on what was going on in her life, finding some semi-solitude to have a good cry. There was one thing she hadn't really broached to Skyler, something she wanted to tell him today, the day that marked three months without him.

She passed through the gate and entered the land of the dead. Approaching Skyler's grave, she completely ignored the direwolf: the small glance she gave it spoke of her disdain for his presence yet was dismissive all the same. He wasn't worth her notice now. "Hi Sky." No matter what her feelings may be now, she couldn't help that her voice betrayed the tears starting to form in her eyes. "It's been a little while"but I wanted to tell you, talk to you, about Stephen."

Stepping forward, she set the three flowers she had brought with her on the gravestone. "He's really wonderful, Skyler. He's"he's going to take care of me. No. He and I are going to take care of each other. He says that I'm his second chance and I think he's mine too. Well, maybe not second"or third or fourth."

She laughed humorlessly, "I wanted to tell you that?" She took a deep breath, "To tell you that I'm going to pour all of myself into him"I'm not going to hold anything back." She rocked back and forth on her heels, arms wrapping about herself. "I wanted to tell you that I'm not holding anything back. I made that mistake with you, didn't I" Not with Stephen"I'm going to do things right. We're going to do things right."

"Marriage even came up already kind of too. Not that we're planning it out or anything"just like, that's in our future. Can you believe that' That someone would want to marry me." It wasn't false modesty coloring her tone, there was actually a note of real disbelief. "Here's a man that's only known me at the lowest of the low, really, because that's where I've been since you've been gone. Lowest. Maybe even lower than last spring. Everything just keeps bringing me down every time I manage to pick myself up again. But then Stephen just steps in, and he loves me even if I'm a wreck every day of my life."

"He makes me laugh, and smile, and blush every other second. I think you'd like him." She shook her head, "Well, maybe not all things considered and all. But he's good for me, Sky. Better than good. And I'm going to be happy. That won't mean I forgot about you, but I'm determined to be happy.?

All this was said under the witnessing eyes and ears of the direwolf before Jewell simply turned away and walked back the way she had come.

Early in the morning, as the first rays of light crept across the graveyard, a man in white robes strode out of the mist. Head bowed, he approached the grave of Skyler Jackson Chamberland.

The great direwolf Legion growled at him.

Without even glancing up at the beast that stood far taller than he, the man spoke in a soft voice. "You cannot interfere."

Blinding white light began to emanate from the man. Legion howled and fled the graveyard.

"Skyler . . ."

"Skyler . . ."

"Wake up, Skyler."

The boy's eyes fluttered open. He was naked, curled up in the fetal position in a mound of soft, warm dirt. Feelings of elation and wonder swirled within him, stemming from the fact that he knew was no longer wallowing in misery in the lake. Though he didn't remember the details of his time in the Lake of Fire, he could remember that it was a horrible, wretched place that he never, ever wanted to see again.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he asked, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He stretched out his arms and looked in amazement and his soft, smooth, creamy skin. He took a strand of his long pretty shiny black hair between his fingers and rubbed it. It all seemed so magical. In the place he was before, he had had neither hair nor skin. Nor had there been bright, beautiful light coming down from the sky.

The man knelt beside Skyler and draped an old brown robe over the boy's shoulders. Skyler pulled it down over his body, covering his nakedness.

"Do you remember your name?"

"My name is . . . S. . . S....Sky . .."

"Skyler."

"Right." He nodded slowly, the name ringing true to him. "My name is Skyler." He looked up at the man worriedly. "But what happened" Why am I here" Who are you? What happened before this" What was that horrible place" What am I supposed to do now?" Another glance around told him he was in a cemetery. He sat next to an empty grave, but saw no headstone nor coffin.

"You may discover the answers to those questions in time," the man told him. "You were a lot of things, but what you once were is not important. What you are now is what matters, and what you are now is alone. Some of your memories will come back to you, most will not." The man got up and began to walk away.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Skyler pleaded after him, desperately.

The man's soft words echoed all around him as he disappeared into the distance. "Decide what to do with the time that has been given to you.?

Our clown had visited the cemetary with the intent of planning decorations and where they would be put for her luncheon with the fallen Poe. Her path around the cemetary weaved in and out of trees and over new and hundred year old gravestone, whistling a happy, weasle-ly tune as she ducked beneath the low-hanging branches and walked in-and-out of memoriam stones, engraved with humourous and grim commemorations of a hero or villian.

It was during her flight of fancy here that she really did fly. Legs madly scissoring back and forth, arms flapping, cane thrown to a strong looking branch and SMACCCKKKDOWWWWWN!

WREWF!

The clown was flat on her back in a grave, staring up at the obscured sky, by cloud and leaf and loose dirt in her eyes. Several blinkity-blinks later as the shock and sore set in, and she sat up straight and let out a sigh.

She hoped no one saw.

It was then that she was slapped in the head by her cane, which had been swinging precariously from said strong looking branch. Laying flat on her back, once again, our heroine dozed unconsciously, while her cane lay innocently by her side.

Unconsciousness, such a trivial state. Nothing happens. It had bored her right out of itself and into a deep, long doze. She'd awoken a good hour before he'd come a-poking and prodding her soundly sleeping body, and decided she was comfortable where she was, no need just yet to climb out and dust off. But now, with a shovel's point in her leg, comfort wasn't promising. Displeased, an eye opened, the other tightly shut, and she grimaced up at the boy.

"If you didn't want it you should have been courteous enough to leave a note"

A quick, false smile and her eye closed. She slept like the dead.

Thoroughly confused by this strange man who had buried her, she dusted herself off some and stood on the loose-soil of the plot, hands akimbo and eyes narrowed. She studied him from where she was, watching as he stormed off, shovel in hand, and then looked down to this ferocious looking Bunny.

"Hello there, care to share?"

A gesture with a hot-pink glove to the plot at her feet.

"Doubt you'll find too many carrots down there. Perhaps poisonous mushrooms and the like. If, of course, that's your thing. And judging by those teeth you have...." The Bunny flicked an ear to the side and chittered its teeth, its nose twitching madly. Our clown tapped her jaw with a finger and furrowed a brow, marvelling at its spectacular overbite.

"I feel quite like I am addressing the Big Bad Bunny, versus Wolf, you know?"

The Bunny sat staring at her with a disapproving glare. Why of course it did. It was nothing to be feared. Just hugged. And fed carrots. And not put in the same sentence as its arch enemy by nature, the Wolf.

Soleil gave a sigh and trudged away, wiping her jacket of dirt and scum. Up ahead she could make out the long-haired silhouette of the grave digger or maybe robber or maybe zombie. She hid behind a tree with only an eye peering from behind it, watching him curiously.