Every sound in the darkness brought with it fears. Aranaya crouched next to Arron, reassuring herself that he still breathed, that his heart still bet strong in his thin chest. She took her jacket off, bunching it beneath his head, staring at his face in the dark. Blood trickled down the side of his face where the branch had grazed the skin. Beneath his pale fur his head was starting to swell. His eyes were closed - but for the blood he could merely be asleep.
"Arron," she whispered, caressing his pale cheek with one hand. She dared not raise her voice - what if Dario was out there, had waited for Kataryna to leave? Why was he scared of the winged lemur anyway? It wasn't as if she was an angel or something.
Was it?
She shuddered, glancing about the clearing once more, but nothing stirred in the darkness and the gloom, nothing moved. "Arron," she whispered, "you can't die. You can't! Please, wake up." There was urgency there and the urgency brought with it tears. She swiped them away angrily, afraid to give herself into despair. Kataryna would be back, and they would carry Arron to safety. He was only unconscious, surely he would awaken.
Surely he hadn't slipped into a coma?
She could not allow herself to think like that, she could not! He had to live - had to.... Hr shoulders shook as a sob escaped. "Please," she begged, but he made no sign of movement, no twitching of the eyes. "Please wake up," she whispered, "please, I love you." The words, words she had not admitted to him, not even to herself, slipped out as though this were a trite romantic movie. The tears sprung to her eyes the moment she spoke them. She was a fool, a stupid romantic fool, if she thought the uttering of three words, three meaningless (or were they?) words could awaken someone from a coma. And indeed, Arron showed no reaction, there was nothing but the gentle rise and fall of his stomach to even show he still lived.
And was that a footfall? Or the sound of some nocturnal animal going about its wanderings?
She crouched lower, protecting Arron's fallen form with her body, bitterly aware how vulnerable she was out here, with a dangerous psychopath roaming the woods. "Don't worry," she whispered to Arron, "they'll come and help us soon."
But would they be soon enough?
It felt like an eternity, but in truth only a short while had passed, when she heard a sound that was definitely footsteps. Not Dario though, she reassured herself, no, it couldn't be Dario - Dario travelled from tree to tree, silently. This was something else.
Help?
Her body tensed. If it was Dario - or something worse, what could she do about it? Abandon Arron to his fate? No, she could never do that! She loved him.. didn't she? No, Aranaya did not trust love. Admired, respected, treasured, but not love. Never love. Out there in the woods was someone she had once believed she loved.
And now the mere thought of him sent shivers down her spine.
"Aranaya?" A voice called through the darkness. Kataryna? "It's dark - where are you?"
"Here," she called back, kissing Arron gently on the muzzle. It might be the only chance she'd ever get to do it, after all. "You'll be fine," she whispered to him.
"I see her!" Another voice called, a male voice, and a moment later she made out the shape of four figures in the darkness - Kataryna, with her wings, was the most imposing, behind her came Titus, Oliver (everyone knew Oliver) and a hare she didn't recognise. In an instance they were beside her and Oliver was helping her to her feet (nearly having to drag her away from Arron) whilst the others lifted Arron onto what appeared to be a detached door.
"You'll be alright," Oliver muttered, patting her shoulder with too much familiarity. "We'll see you safe."
Aranaya somehow doubted that.
The strange procession made their way thorugh the forest. Aranaya quickly managed to rein in her sobbing, regaining some sort of composure. It would not do to make a scene. After what felt like an eternity, they left the forest behind them, coming back upon Evergreen Terraces.
"Which apartment is his?" Terry asked, "we should put him on his bed and call for the doctor, right?"
Titus shook his head. "No," he said, "we're taking him to my place."
Aranaya stared at him, bewilderment on her face. "Why? You want to risk hurting him further by taking him all that way?" Her resentment was plain.
"We have to," Titus said, in a firm voice that invited no argument. "I'm afraid it has begun."
"What has begun?" Kataryna spoke up for the first time, there was a slight urgency, a slight edge of panic, to her voice.
Titus smiled, but it was a small, sad smile. "The beginning of the end."
"Care to elaborate?" Aranaya rose an eyebrow. She was fed up with this feline and his opinion. She wanted nothing more then to lie Arron on his bed, cover him with blankets and wait until he woke up.
The feline shook his head. "Not here, not now - the time will come for answers later. There is danger all around us here. At my place we will be safe." And with that he turned his attention away from all of them, and began along the sidewalk.
The early rays of dawn streaked the horizon in dull gold, and the early morning avian symphonies surrounded them. Usually a time for rejoicing in the birth of a new day, now Aranaya found it hard to rejoice in anything. Arron was not stirring, that blasted feline was talking in riddles, and memories of Dario haunted her. And here they were, taking Arron into the den belonging to that Lemur hussy. As they passed number 42, Aranaya's hackles rose. She recognised that house for what it was - it was well-known in reputation and preserved in song.
"You do know you live next to a house of ill repute?" She ventured.
Titus shrugged. "They're moderately quiet and they don't have wild parties," he said, "I can't object."
Aranaya shrugged in turn, her attention turning back to Arron. What if he never woke up? What if when he did, he was changed, damaged? No - she must not think like that.
She must not.
"How exactly is your place safer then his?" She asked, as they picked their way through the unruly garden. Terry stumbled, jerking the stretcher, and Arron groaned, making her forget everything for a moment. She placed one hand on his shoulder.
"Arron?"
His eyes did not open, but his lips moved. "Darkness comes crashing down," he mouthed, his voice little more then a whisper. "The tide will carry us all away."
"Arron?" She ran her hand up his cheek, but he was lost back within himself.
"Quickly," Titus urged. "The Nocturne are coming."
"What is the Nocturne and what the Hades is going on?" Aranaya was growing increasingly frustrated.
"This is not the time," Titus replied, the door swinging open at his touch. "My house is warded, no evil can ever penetrate it nor destroy it. We'll be safe there."
Aranaya chanced a glance over her shoulder and into the shadows. Was that a glimpse of black fur she caught? Darting behind the brothel next door? She shuddered and hastened inside, as Terry carried Arron upstairs, cradled in his arms like a baby.
They placed the albino Lemur on Kataryna's bed, but Aranaya deigned not to complain. She sensed things were out of her paws now. She perched beside him, running her hand across his cheek. After speaking outside, he now showed no signs whatsoever of regaining consciousness. She cast her gaze around the bedroom. It was, to put things lightly, luxurious. The carpet was thick, the bed a massive four-poster affair from a long lost era. So different from her living quarters. The thing that caught her attention the most, however, was the enormous carved wooden cabinet against one wall. There was something almost ominous about it and the way the carvings stared out at her. She could not sleep in the same room as that monstrosity - it was like some sort of slumbering predator, just awaiting its chance to strike.
"So Titus," she said, "you promised us some answers."
"Would anyone like a cup of something?" Titus offered, ignoring her rather rudely. "Tea, coffee? Hot chocolate?"
Aranaya growled. "I want answers. My friend is lying here comatose and you want to make hot drinks?"
Titus dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "I find everything is much better with a hot drink in your stomach," he said, " and believe me, you'll thank me for it later." He glanced at Terry and Oliver, both standing there looking confused and bewildered. "You two are not a part of this by design," he said, "if you wish to go home now, he won't hurt you. The time is not right for that."
The Hare and the Ocelot exchanged a long glance. "We want to stay," they decided. "We want to know what the hell is going on."
"That's nice," Titus said, "but some things are not for you to know - go home, and be thankful in your ignorance." He paused, watching their reaction, or lack there of. "Go!" He waved his hands, "go home." An edge of urgency crept into his usually calm demeanour.
"Ok, okay," Oliver muttered, "you don't need to tell me thrice." He cast a very dirty look at the Feline. "Come on Terry, let's leave these sad saps to their business."
Terry's farewell gaze was filled with disappointment and an edge of betrayal. Titus broke the gaze first, staring at his hands.
"Believe me,' he muttered, more to convince himself then anything. "You'll thank me later. You'll thank me later..." He closed the door tightly behind them.
"You have heard of the Nocturne?" He asked, turning to face the bed.
At this Kataryna had to confess her ignorance. "I don't think so," she said.
"I have," Aranaya sounded shaky. She had not moved from beside Arron, one hand tracing his pale face. There was so much emotion, so much compassion there, and so much more. Kataryna wondered why nothing had ever come from it - they both cared so much for one another - why could neither have seen it? After a moment, Aranaya continued, "they are the Servants of Darkness as spoken in the great Volumes of Amvaleis. What do they have to do with anything?"
"They are indeed the Servants of Darkness," Titus explained, his usually cheerful face drawn into a frown. "Evil corrupts their very core."
"But they are myth!" Aranaya exclaimed.
"They are myth no longer, the foul spawn of Valiklaw once more walk the earth."
Both females gasped as he uttered the name - Valiklawe, the dark demon that had struck the blight upon their world. The dark demon who called the Deadlands his home. His name was feared - but he was not really real.
Was he? She shuddered. Anubis had been real, very real. And if Anubis were real, then why not the others? "But if forces of Darkness roam the earth, why do not forces of the Light also?"
Titus caught her gaze in his and fire burned in his eyes even as her mind pieced things together. Her gaze dropped to the floor and her slight shoulders shook as she fought for composure. He needed no words to tell her what she knew in her heart.
"Why us?" The words came out as a quiver. "How can we possibly act out the will of Elysia?"
Titus could only shake his head and turn away. "I do not know how such things are decided," he said, "I only know that they are. I am the Keeper - for years I have kept the Door safe and the secret close. For years I have waited." He sighed. "I hoped the day would never come."
Aranaya had been sitting very quietly, but now she spoke, "and what part do I play in this? What part does Arron?" There was an edge of hysteria to her voice, "how dare they use us as their tools!"
"I cannot answer that," Titus admitted, "I know only whom I was told to seek - the Seven. And you two number amongst them."
"What of Arron? Does this make him nothing? Someone that can be damaged and cast aside?" The fury was rising in her, she looked almost ready to lash out at the Feline.
"He is not one of the Seven," Titus explained, "but his role is of no little import. He is the Scribe."
"Scribe?" Kataryna was more curious then distressed. After all, she had died and been resurrected. After that being told demons roamed the mortal realms and you were amongst those that had to stop them, seemed almost expected.
"The one who records the proceedings for the knowledge of the future - so that generations to come will know how to prevent such tragedy coming again." He grinned wryly, "if, of course, there is a future."
"So he can't die then?" Faint hope was creeping into the Aye-aye's tone. She seemed little interested in this talk of the Nocturne - her interests lay purely in the direction of her injured friend.
Titus's shoulders slumped. "That I do not know," he replied. "Fate does not decree what happens next, we must define destiny. Dario is of the Nocturne, the silent killer. There will be others, and there is worse to come."
"He wasn't always like that," Aranaya whispered, "once he was the most gentle, most kind and strong and caring husband one could ever dream of."
"And then Valiklawe sank his talons into him, corrupting him with the poison within. Dario was chosen, just as you were Aranaya, to fulfil the Prophecy."
"Prophecy?" Aranaya stared at the Feline. Her eyes burned with the despair of learning that everything she did, everything that happened, was pre-ordained. It brought with it great waves of helplessness. Kataryna could sympathise - ever since she had found herself lying in the woodlands on a bed of leaves, she had felt as though her life were nought a fairground ride.
Titus met the Aye-aye's gaze without faltering. "Yes," he said, "that from the greatest darkness the most powerful light would be born."
Aranaya's eyes glistened in the faint lamplight. "Raoul," she whispered, "poor sweet Raoul... Was that why he had to die?" She sobbed onto Arron's chest, her grief freeing her of any inhibitations she may have had at behaving thusly in company.
Titus slid onto the bed beside her, placing his paw on her shoulder. She shrugged it away and turned on him, ears flattening in her rage.
"So what are we then? What was Raoul? Playthings - that's all we are! Pawns in some game that we cannot fathom. It's not fair - it's not fair that he had to die because for some gods-only known reason he was some saviour. Some martyr. Well, I'm not going to play their game - I'm not! They killed my son. And Elysia can fall to the Nocturne for all I care!"
The tree seemed to shudder with her words, and Kataryna fell against the wall in panic. She could sympathise with the Aye-aye, Aranaya had lost everything - all that Kataryna had lost had been her own stupid fault, her love had been something she had been willing to sacrifice for escape. She could not help but smile inside at the irony of that one! This might be a second chance for her - but it was hardly such for the artist.
Titus too drew back, glancing helplessly at Kataryna. He beckoned her, coaxing her from the room.
Together they withdrew, leaving Aranaya to cope with her grief the way she was used to it - alone. Save, of course, for the prone form of Arron, still lying unconscious on the bed.