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The shopkeeper watched the little girl near the apple stand. She was very small and blonde, with huge blue eyes that brimmed with tears. It was fairly obvious that she was a street urchin, as her clothes, an oversized blue sweater and baggy cargo shorts, were dirty and unkempt. Her hair was in a similar state of disarray, and there were makeshift bandages covering her knees and arms. She was probably nearing her sixth birthday, but her composure, though timid, told of someone who had lived in misfortune for many years.

She eyed the apples before looking around suspiciously, reaching up, and plucking one from the pile. She stuffed the fruit into one of the side pockets on her shorts and made to leave. The shopkeeper stepped out from around the register counter and halted her, grabbing her wrist and frowning.

“Hey girl, you can’t take that without paying for it.”

The child squeaked into terror, her large eyes overflowing with tears. She struggled to free herself, but she was no match for the shopkeeper’s firm grip. She lost her battle with her fear and burst into sobs, shaking her head, which sent her golden hair into a chaotic halo around her head.

Suddenly, she was out of his grasp and the shopkeeper found himself face to face with a young boy.

This boy had hate in his dark green eyes. His red hair fell in a messy mop on his head, falling into his heated gaze. He was dirty, his clothes in a similar state, riddled with holes and tears – it actually seemed a wonder that they were even holding together at all. Unlike the girl, however, there were no marks on his body, no bloody bandages, no scars or wounds of any kind. This was strange for a street kid. He was barely older than the small girl who had stolen the apple, so he had vaulted into the counter, and now had the shopkeeper’s shirt locked in a steel fist.

“If you touch her again,” the boy growled, his voice full of venom, “I’ll rip your throat out.”

"Oh." The noise escaped from the shopkeeper's mouth as if more by a fearful release of air more than anything else. He gritted his teeth and seemed to regain his composure, arranging his face into as angry of an expression as he could muster. "Everything's fine ma'am, these little brats were just leaving." To the boy he said, "Let go of me you piece of s**t vermin. You have no right to -- "

He stopped when the red headed boy pulled his lips back in a malevolent snarl, bearing sharp fangs. "I have no right to what," he spat, the harshness of his words completely contradicting his young appearance. "You think just because you're bigger, you can toss around an innocent little girl? Try tossing me around then. We'll see how long you last."

The small blond girl sniffled and blinked back her tears. She was genuinely elated to see the boy, even though she knew he would come. He never let her down. She often found herself in bad situations, and though one might call her careless or naive, she simple knew that he would always appear and rescue her. She had been frightened of the shopkeeper, but now she was a little afraid that her friend would do something rash. With so many people around, it could prove to be less than desirable. She looked at the apple that had somehow tumbled into her hand, and then at the red haired girl in the woman's arms.

The winged girl smiled at her, and she couldn't help but smile back. Discreetly, she stuffed the fruit in her pocket with the other one. She looked up at the woman, then at her friend, and finally on the shopkeeper. For the first time, she spoke up, her voice very small and soft.

"Simon, please don't kill him. He didn't hurt me, look." She held out her wrists, which lacked any bruises. "See? If you do anything now, we'll get in trouble. There're people everywhere."

"Taryn, just stay out of this. This guy --"

"No! Please! Let's just go."

The boy grunted and grudgingly let go of the shopkeeper's shirt. His white wings ruffled up a bit to show his irritation before he hopped down from the counter. Standing there next to each other, it became apparent that these kids were in bad shape. Obviously malnourished, clothes in a sad state, and the girl covered in scrapes and cuts from falling or being manhandled, they didn't look like they had led very forgiving lives. Simon reached out to grab Taryn's hand, and as he did so, a very familiar tattoo of two crossed swords surrounded by holly branches flashed briefly before it disappeared from view, interlocking with Taryn's tiny hand.

Simon all but pulled his companion toward the exit of the market, pausing when he realized that a woman holding a child was blocking his way. "What are you looking at," he sneered. "Get out of my way."

His eyes traveled upwards and locked on the little girl's. A shiver ran down his spine, and for the first time in his short life, he faltered. Something about this kid actually scared him. He backed up a step.

Taryn looked at Simon with concern. "What's the matter?"

Simon shook his head. "Nothing. Lady, get out of my way."

Corbin gave a faux expression of being taken aback. He put a hand to his chest and raised his eyebrows, which disappeared beneath his messy bangs, "Oh, am I intruding? My sincere apologies." There was a distinct lack of sincerity. "Just thought I'd drop in and let you know that you probably shouldn't steal... Usually that little voice inside your head tells you not to... But then again, Dark Haven's got it's fair share of oddities. The lack of a moral compass was bound to show up sooner or later." A white smile flashed on his face, his bright eyes securely in contact with Nolah's. He wasn't going to back down under that glare. No siree.

The young man then turned his attention onto the young Simon, who, true to his character, was acting much older than he looked. Corbin folded his arms lightly across his chest and pursed his lips, seeming to contemplate what the young angel had to say. "Fight of the Freaks? I think you're probably right. I'm just... me. Probably one of the most 'normal' looking folks this little city has to offer. Can't say I've got wings or fangs or a tail... Or that extra arm the chick who runs the coffee shop has."

He seemed slightly less than interested that the man down the street wouldn't give her apples. The girl wasn't who he was primarily interested in. "He probably did. Half of the people here aren't who they say they are. Funny little world we live in, innit?"

It was about this time that Simon and Taryn had pushed past him to leave, and for a few moments, Corbin simply watched them go. He chewed thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek, while internally, he ran digital profiles on the two. The girl would definitely be of interest, but the boy... That little demonic angel... He was very similar to someone the Swords had once known very, very well.

Giving Nolah a salute and Fynn a light ruffle of her hair, Corbin grinned widely and sauntered away from the stand. "Keep up the good work you two. I'm sure we'll see each other again." Whether or not she followed was up to her. Corbin already knew all about Nolah... And that miraculous little daughter of hers. He wondered if the feline woman remembered anything at all. Fynn seemed to be quite unaware of her amazing past.

However, at the moment, his interest had been piqued when Simon whispered something to his darling little friend. It was barely audible over the din of those in the street, but Corbin focused in on it, and a different sort of smile graced his features. One might have described it as 'cunning,' if it hadn't been so gracefully masked as a look of someone having a pleasant shopping day.

So, to find out about the boy... He simply had to get to the girl.

Simon's green eyes slid back to the two adults that were now following along after him. He was interested in this new man, but he wasn't sure how to go about it. This was a situation he had not found himself in before, and it had him a little ruffled. He didn't like it when he didn't know things. He released Taryn and pivoted so he was facing them, his sharp gaze hard and difficult to read. He raised a hand, the one with the tattoo, and showed his fangs.

"Who the hell cares what his name is? Listen you," he said, addressing first Nolah, and then Corbin. "I don't know what your deal is, but you can stop pretending to be innocent." Nolah moved closer to them, and Simon felt that same sort of fear that he'd felt earlier. It ran through him like a shiver, and again, he faltered. He didn't like the winged girl the cat-woman had locked securely in his arms. No, that wasn't it. He was terrified of her. What scared him even more, was that he didn't know why.

Simon fell silent.

Taryn looked at her friend, then at the two adults, then at Fynn. She was very confused. The way Simon was behaving was very uncharacteristic for him, and she didn't like it. He had always been the stronger minded of the pair, and now that something was getting to him, something that she didn't feel or understand, she felt a little lost.

Simon allowed his hand to drop back to his side. "To hell you with you people. You're all freaks anyway." He turned to walk away, but was suddenly hit with an overwhelming memory that wasn't his own, one that took up his entire brain, and he nearly fell over. Taryn caught him to steady him, eyes wide.

"Hey! What's wrong?"

"Welcome to Crossed Swords, Theonidas. This is your new home."

A flash.

"Why does he look so much like me?"
"Well, he is you. We made him from your genes. His name is Amadeus."

A flash.

"Athos! What are you trying to do? Kill me?! Control your power!"
"Learn to defend."

Another flash.

"I'm sorry my barstool attacked you, Nolah, sometimes it lets its heart get in the way of its head."
"That's okay, Tank. It's like this everywhere I go. I've left a trail of brokenhearted barstools in my wake."

Another flash.

"Once she is born...she will be the only one who can kill me...Athos, you're the only man I can trust to give the order to destroy me when the time comes."

"...I never meant for it to end this way. I'm sorry."

Simon pulled his arm roughly from Taryn's grasp.

"These don't belong to me!"

Take a few unsteady steps backwards, he spread his wings, and took off.

Alright, this was going to have to go one of two ways. It was obvious that Nolah wasn't going to leave. Corbin knew her history with the Swords, and he was sure she knew what the symbol on Simon's hand meant. He'd have to be careful not to flash the very same thing that was on his palm. She was already too suspicious, and pushing herself very much into the business Corbin had created between the two children and himself. He'd been told to be wary of her senses about things. He had no idea she'd be that accurate.

And now, she was trying to take Taryn away from him. This led to two choices. Either try and move Taryn away... Win her trust away from Nolah, or pretend that he and the cat-woman were working together. The latter seemed a better option. That way, Nolah wouldn't be running off too far to do something that Corbin wouldn't like. Alright. Have the girl.

Corbin would go get Simon.

Putting a kind hand on the little girl's shoulder, Corbin listened to her confused explanation. In a kind, soothing, quiet voice, he responded, "Why don't you go with Nolah here, to her store. I'm sure that she'll give you good books and all the cake you want. She's a kind woman. You can wait there, and I'll go to find Simon, and tell him where you are. Would that be alright?" He raised his eyebrows and used the end of his sleeve to wipe away the tears that had run down her face.

That done, he popped back onto his feet and ruffled Taryn's hair. "Go on now, and don't worry, I'll be careful when I go over there." He tapped the side of his head with a finger, "I'm pretty good at figuring things out, so I won't let anything surprise me." He gave the girl a smile and then turned his attention towards Nolah. He could almost feel the intense sense of dislike she had for him, but he smiled right on through it. "I'll be back in a bit then... You said the bookstore, right? I'll be sure to bring Simon right over. Promise." He crossed his heart with a finger and turned on a heel, once more shoving his hands in his pockets.

He'd walk. After all, flying off with a roar of rockets probably wouldn't be the best thing for anyone. Even if it was a hell of a lot more fun.




Of course, it didn't take him long to reach the Aeris Building. Quietly, he ventured in, hardly bothered by the lack of decent light or the layer of dust that covered the floor. He flipped the vision in one of his eyes to infared - and almost immediately spotted a bundle of warmth in the elevator.

Hardly bothering to heed Taryn's warning to be careful, he strode right up to the elevator doors and pushed them apart, poking his head inside. "Simon?" He pursed his lips, having caught the tail end of what he'd said. "You're not losing your mind. That, I can assure you."