Time passed and when she did emerge from the shadows, she was on the edge of the sea. The waves were much more calming than the crowd at the moment.

Still there was an intensity that wasn't quite as severe as pain, but as close as it could be without being painful. She moved to a small pool of water and knelt beside it. That was when she noticed the first evidence of the change she was undergoing.

At first she thought it was a trick of the reflection of the pool, but the longer she stared, the more sure she was. Her wings were actually loosing the bloodred coloring. They were actually a deep pink now and seemed to be straying to a pale pink as the minutes passed. Where there had been wings which could be described best as leathery, now she could almost swear she saw feathers reflecting back to her from the pool.

She reached back as she spread her wings now, almost not believing her eyes, and gave a tug. With a slight wince, she pulled one of the feathers off and held it in front of her to examine.

"Oh, this is not going to be good."

Then it hit her. Fallen. She was going to be in so much trouble.

Unlike many of her breathren, who had originally been created to follow orders without question, she had been created to think and reason for herself, to choose her own path. She had chosen and never regretted one moment. She had "helped" others choose their own path, and never apologised. Each had chosen and followed there own choices. Each had let her feed on the energy their choices created and for centuries she had feasted well on their greed and avarice.

Now, though, something was changing within her and the change was manafesting itself in the strangest of ways, for no longer was she a lady in red. Instead the image before her was dressed in white. How was she ever to explain this?