A waking Life.

[Keaira O'Connell]

It was dark, and so very cold. For those that stayed in the cold they might find that after a long time it begins to feel warm, almost fuzzy. But what they don’t realize is that the cold had begun to claim them. Their bodies are giving in to the empty promises that the cold holds, allowing them to think that they are not freezing to death, but instead getting used to the way it was. Keaira was not one of those people. She felt the cold for what it was. Deaths clutches would have to try to grasp her another way.

She walked about watching the sun disappear behind the horizon faster than it should. Its last rays quietly snuffed out like a candle. It seemed that with the sun gone the cold only seemed to bite fiercer, as if it had broken through the final fortitude that had kept it at bay. There was no wind, only cold. The night was still, with little life to offer Keaira as she walked across the grounds. She wrapped her cloak tightly around her body, pulling her hood up to cover the back of her neck. The action sent prickles down her spine and she turned around, looking to see if anyone was there.

What she saw were the gates, but not those of Hogwarts. She stared upon the gates of Dark Phoenix’s castle. The cold that had plagued her now made sense. She turned around and was about to run away, but the sight before her made her stop dead in her tracks. Keaira looked in to the face of her Elemental Master, Dien Serlaen, his nose was broken, his lip split. Wounds that were inflicted by the Mage’s weapons adorned most of his upper body, and sections of his lower. She reached out to touch him with, but pulled back in sharp surprise. Both sides of her body began to bleed, as if someone had called forth her wounds from the present and the past, and simply ordered them to open once more, and pour out the life that she held so dear.

As she pulled away and flinched at the new pain she looked away from the face of Dien, and at her own body. Her heavy robes were gone; instead she wore a sundress, adorned with blue, white, and purple stripes. Laces ran up her spine, and she wore small black shoes that buckled. The dress was quickly turning shades deeper as the blood swept from her shoulders, and down towards the ground. She touched her left shoulder; a fresh bullet wound was all she felt before she jerked her hand away. Blood as deep as garnets ornamented her finger tips. After few seconds, or was it minuets she looked away from her hand and back towards the man she knew was in pain.

She fell forward to see if she could undo his chains, and set him free. If she could just get him out of this place she could save him. Her hands fumbled with the locks that held him in place, quickly working to release their prisoner. A voice cackled from behind her. It was a vile laughter, one that was not in joy or happiness, but in triumph, and victory. Keaira’s blood ran cold as she turned to face the woman she knew wanted her dead so fiercely. Her dark curls were draped so decoratively around her face, accented by such pale skin, and bright emerald eyes. She had the appearance of someone beautiful. But Keaira was not deceived; this woman was not beautiful in any way. She caused such pain and suffering for no reason, it was just a game to her, one that she played for her master so that one day he might live in this realm again. Keaira looked away from the beauty that was the Mage and back to the man in chains. She watched as the face before her changed, looking younger, with darker skin, and longer black hair. The familiar eyes and mischievous smile of Alessandro Darko was before her. “Help me.” He whispered the words almost silently. His lips, barely moved, or maybe they never did. His eyes gazed unblinkingly in to Keaira’s for several moments, before his head swung low, and his hair covered that beautiful face. “Alessandro, Come back.” She said the word with such passion, such wanting. As if the force of saying them would wake the boy from his slumber. The malevolent laughter of the Mage filled her ears, as she felt like Alessandro was being pulled away from her. Keaira reached out to grasp on to the boy but felt her hands touch nothing. She turned to see the Mage looming over her. The depraved woman reached out, her hands like claws, and tried to grasp on to Keaira, but she wasn’t there anymore.

Keaira sat bolt up in her bed. Sweat seemed to drip off of her body. Her silken red pajamas were much deeper in color than they ought to be, and they clung unmercifully to her skin. She felt cold, clammy, as if something dead had touched her. Her body was tangled in a mess of sheets, but she quickly threw them off, wanting to rid herself of anything that reminded her of that dream she found she had also quickly striped, down and changed. Her silk pajamas lay in a heap by her bed, much like most of her blankets and sheets. Wearing the closest set of clothing she had, which happened to be a pair of black pajama shorts and a plain white tank top, she quietly grabbed her wand, and a robe, and left the room.

She wrapped the robe tightly around her body, and ran her fingers through her damp tangled mess of hair. She didn’t look as bad as she had upon waking, but she definitely didn’t look anywhere near her normal standards. She tried to straighten up her hair as she walked, but soon found that she could not do such a thing and gave up. Her normally pale face held nearly no color to it, except for the darkness that was around her eyes. It took her only the short time to travel from her dorm to the dungeon corridors before she felt the taste of bile in the back of her throat. She turned in to the nearest place she knew of, and saw the face of someone familiar. Looking into the giant sleepy eyes of Navee the house elf, Keaira managed to say. “I’m gonna-“ before Navee summoned a small pot, for Keaira. Within mere seconds of receiving the pot from the elf, Keaira felt the vomit that had been threatening to emerge from her body pull up and in to her throat, then out of her mouth. The vomit made a sickening splash as it hit the bottom of the pot, sloshing around as she quickly spit into it afterward.

Keaira looked to the elf, who had already gathered a towel, and a steaming mug of tea for her, and attempted to smile. It was always nice to have a house elf that knew what you needed. Keaira reached for the towel, and wiped her face. Siding to the floor, she let her body relax, and reached for the tea. “Thanks.” Were the only words Keaira had for the elf. Navee had been there for her, preparing her tea each night, making sure she was alright. It was really a great thing that she was there. Keaira let her head fall to her knees, and wrapped herself up in to a tiny ball. Attempting to pull herself together before the morning arrived.

[mallan]

Lying in bed Mallan opened his eyes; it had been another nightmare. There were shadows and a ghostly phoenix but none of it made sense. The only other thing he recalled was the fear that still lingered as he laid there awake. He knew the shadows were that of Dark Phoenix but he could not place the ghostly phoenix that fought to hold them back. Somehow the phoenix was on his side but he had no idea where it came from. It took Mallan a few minutes to realize how hungry he was. He never could fall asleep on an empty stomach so he decided that he should grab a snack from the house elf kitchen.

Sitting up he grabbed his thick woolen pants next to his bed and pulled them on. He grabbed and threw on a shirt as he made his way out of the dorm. As he left the common room a wave of cold air hit him that he was not prepared for. “It is freezing!” Mallan thought to himself as he went back into the common room. Mallan had gotten used to the fiery heat that the fireplace gave to the common room and dorms. He made his way back to his dorm and pulled the biggest blanket he could off of his bed and wrapped it twice around himself.

He once again headed out of the dorm and common room. This time however, he did not need to turn around and get more protection against the cold. He headed down the floors not even thinking that he should not be out. The cold began to tingle on his face but he ignored it; he couldn’t do anything that did not sacrifice another part of his body to the cold. He continued down the floors with an uneventful walk.

However, once Mallan arrived on the dungeon floor the uneventfulness of his walk ended. Mallan was part of the way through the dungeon floor on his way to the house elf kitchen when he heard some noise that sounded like someone talking. The noise was down the direction he was heading and so he continued down the corroder. As he rounded a corner he saw, what looked to be a girl, sitting against the wall with her head down. With the girl was a house elf; which Mallan thought slightly odd.

Ignoring the house elf for the moment Mallan walked up and sat down beside the girl who he finally recognized as Keaira. He didn’t think that she was enjoying the cold so he slid most of the blanket off of himself and offered it for her to fold herself into despite sacrificing himself to the cold. Not sure if she wanted to be alone or in quiet Mallan kept his first words short and soft.

Hey there Keaira. Is everything alright? (Mallan waited a few moments for Keaira to look at him and respond before he turned to the house elf and whispered as to disturb Keaira the lease he could) Would you mind getting me some tea and something for us to snack on, please?

Mallan turned back to face Keaira. He hoped she was okay. There was no telling until she said something so Mallan just waited there in the quiet for her response or the house elf to return with the snacks.

[Keaira O'Connell]

The images of her dream were burned in to her mind. It was as if someone had recorded what she had seen, and then set it to loop over in her mind endlessly. She wished it would just stop. Giving her the time she needed to breathe, and to wash the bile out of her mouth. She stayed huddled close to herself, trying to shake the feelings that plagued her. It was just a dream; she repeated the words mentally over and over. She knew that her mind was still coping with Dien’s death, something she needed to be aware of. There was a lot for her to be thankful for, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Her body shook in silent earthquakes as she attempted to quell the feelings of unease that had settled over her. What if it wasn’t entirely a dream? Alessandro had once warned her that they were going to be attacked before it had happened. Could she have reached out in to his mind to see a glimpse of what might come? The idea of seeing him broken and being unable to help almost sickened her once more. The nausea made her vision sway, forcing her to close her eyes, as she sat there, huddled on the cold stone floor. When she closed her eyes it became apparent to her that she was crying. The liquid flowed silently down her cheeks, and fell to the floor. Keaira was quite thankful that she would have time to pull herself together before anyone would see her. Or at least she had hoped she would.

Keaira wasn’t cold. Or maybe she was, but she had the rest of her body to contend with, so she had not noticed. Perhaps she was shivering instead of shaking, but she’ll never learn the truth of it. She had not heard his steps approaching. Nor, did she feel him sit next to her. It was only when he had covered her with the blanket and spoken that she had realized that there was another human awake at this hour. Silently she lifted her head up to address him. Her hair was a tangled mess; it held no resemblance to her normal well kept self. She was far too pale to be considered okay, a hallow and sickly look had overcome her features. Her eyes held dark circles under them, and bloodshot veins throughout. The tracks that her tears had left were still clearly upon her face, and tonight she felt no compulsion to hide her own emotions.

As she regarded the boy that had given up his warmth to console her, she wondered what he might be thinking. But the effects of the tea had already begun to numb her senses. Keeping all the thoughts that buzzed through her silently at bay. She was thankful she could not read him though. It truly was a blessing to be able to sit sometime, and not worry about whether her compulsions were her own, or someone else’s. She did not try to fake a smile, as had become a custom for her, but simply gave him a sad, look, one that may just have conveyed how sick she was feeling.

The putrid aroma that wafted from the pot by her side filled her nostrils, and she almost felt the compulsion to retch her empty stomach in to the pot. Instead she simply swayed a little, and closed her eyes. “I’m” She paused, unsure of what she was actually going to say. Such moments of being unable to convey her own self were very seldom. However, she felt pretty certain that everyone had them occasionally. She wanted to say that she was fine, but such a lie would be so easily refuted that she couldn’t justify the effort in to trying it. So she decided upon telling the truth. Breathing to steady her own body, she looked at the floor, and addressed it. “I’m not feeling well, I can’t go back to sleep, and I might throw up again, so I wouldn’t sit so close.”

She sat in silence for a while, hoping to calm her body, and to put the images of Alessandro, and Dien to rest. During this silence it registered with Keaira that Navee had made no move to retrieve the requested items for Mallan. Keaira looked up at the elf, and nodded slightly, she realized the elf was waiting for premission to leave. “I’ll be fine.” Was all Keaira said before the elf vanished on the spot. Keaira wasn’t sure if a snack was something she should have right then, however she wouldn’t argue with Mallan’s request. Her gaze returned to the boy, her eyes seemed glazed over slightly, as she looked at him. “How’s your day so far?”

She couldn’t decide if she really wanted to know, or if it was simply the politest way for her to respond. In all honesty she was content to just sit there on the cold floor, alone until dawn arrived, and the rest of the castle woke up. Lessons were not her priority today, and she mused on whether she should attend them at all. She sipped at her tea waiting for his response, not caring too much for his answer, but still wishing to know.

[mallan]

The air in the corroder had been still until Mallan stirred it with his blanket offering to Keaira. It was then that the smell of vomit made its way to Mallan’s nostrils causing him to gag for a moment in surprise before he was able to control himself. He never held looks against someone unless they were trying for a look that did not appeal to Mallan. Keaira looked a mess at the moment but Mallan knew she did not choose to be, so judgmental thoughts never entered his mind. Hoping she was alright he waited for her response and was not surprised at her unwillingness to talk. Mallan was not quite sure what to say or do after realizing that she had been vomiting as well as crying. Mallan tried to piece together what could possibly have happened but found no luck. He didn't know her that well and it could be anything.

Mallan did not move at her suggestion to sit further away. He was willing to endure many things to bring someone out of despair. From his previous encounters with Keaira he had known her to be well in control and always looking her best. She usually seemed friendly but distant; rather similar to D’rorah it occurred to Mallan. Now she was neither, though she still tried to be friendly. She needed comforting and he knew that scooting further away would merely have an adverse affect. Helplessly fingering his Celtic charm, on his left wrist, he replied.

I’m not sure I can do anything for your stomach but I am a good listener if you want to relieve something from your thoughts. (He waited for a response but she merely asked him a question) My day? Eh, usually I’m not up this early. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. So I decided to find something to eat and that’s how I ended up down here in your company.

Looking at her, Mallan waited patiently, hoping that she would be willing to talk to him. There was no reason for him to ask her how her day was going; it was obvious that it was not going well. He hated seeing people in distress and he hated feeling useless even more. Taking a moment, he looked down at his charm and then back at her. Feeling like there was nothing he could do but give her his company he sat there just waiting to listen.

[Keaira O'Connell]

((Sorry about the wait.))

The tea was helpful. Navee always prepared it so nicely. The bitter taste of the medical herbs was hidden beneath the sweet taste of the honey. She couldn’t help but savory the taste as she sipped the warm liquid. She felt it touch the tip of her tongue and then traced its path as she swallowed, feeling the warmth spread down her throat and in to her body. As the tea reached her stomach she lost track of it, there was just a little too much of a concern as to whether she might feel that warmth in a reverse action if she focused on it much more.

She found that although she had a bit of reserved feelings about this meeting, she was generally happy that there was someone there. It was even better that the someone was a person she could trust. There were no doubts of his allegiances, she knew that. She had the opportunity to be herself in front of him, although, such a concept seemed foreign. At that moment, Keaira O’Connell was not really sure what parts of herself had been fabricated, and what parts were really her. Did she simply play the smart, ambitious girl, who respected the professors and always put up a good face? Did she pretend she was the mentally strong girl, who didn’t wavier when faced with a foe? Or was the thought that she was anything more than a small girl, scared, and alone, the fabrication?

She was always scared, but she didn’t let many people see it. She was always alone, even though the thoughts of every one swam through her mind. She had become who she was, because someone needed to be. But, tonight, she wanted to let it all go away. No more wars or fighting. No more bonding with another human. No training, no risking their lives for people that would never repay them. No more shadows, no more Mage. What she wouldn’t give to have the power to fight this war ripped from her body. To tell someone else to do it, to give the power to someone more deserving, someone stronger; let them deal with watching their friends die one at a time, through the hands of the Mage.

Keaira let her head slump back against the wall. It would be nice to live on in bliss, not knowing that there are people fighting a war all around you. To be able to focus on school work, and friends, instead of training, and trying to keep yourself from being killed. Such She needed to at least be thankful to have the support of the people she was fighting with. Mallan could have moved away, but he didn’t. He could have kept walking, ignoring her, but he chose to stop and comfort her. At least she could say that even if she was not strong there were others that could be. At least such a thought gave her a small amount of comfort on its own.

“Nightmares, they play over and over in my head.” The words were barely spoken; they simply appeared in the air as a sound that came without being ushered in. Keaira kept her gaze forward not wishing to look at Mallan for fear that he might read the thoughts that were all over her. It didn’t take a telepath to look at what she had been going through and realize that she was in a lot of emotional distress. “He’s not coming back.” She wasn’t sure whether she was referring to Dien, or Alessandro. As the images of both came to her mind as the thought and words left her. Her words were said, with the intent of setting them in her mind, allowing herself to cope with Dien's death. But, Dien had been a ghost once, and yet he was able to be human, although it was short lived. He could be a ghost again… Or at least she had been hoping all this time that he would. She felt now that such thoughts were mere illusions of hope. Fantasy, that helped her live through the day.

Keaira drained the last of the tea down, and set the cup on the floor by her feet. Navee would be back soon. Keaira knew she would bring her a glass of hot milk, a sliced apple, and some crackers. What the elf would chose for Mallan was a bit beyond her own thoughts at the moment. Keaira let her head roll to the right so she could look at Mallan as she spoke to him. “The headmistress hasn’t even said anything to try and explain the disappearance of Wysteria, and Dien. I wonder what she’s thinking.” She let her head fall back forward, so she could stare at the wall in front of her for a bit longer. She might be able to live with what this life brought her, but what’s living worth if everyone you care for is killed? Such thoughts plagued her mind each second she sat there.

[mallan]

Thoughts continued to run through Mallan’s head. Was Keaira in some twisted scheme? Was she stuck in some plot? Did she do something she regretted? Did someone hurt her? Or was she just feeling overwhelmingly sick? All of these questions poured through Mallan’s head as he tried to figure out how he could comfort her. He was lost. “I don’t know…” he helplessly wondered. All of his thoughts poured over Keaira’s possible situations.

It actually surprised him when he heard her speak up. He was having reoccurring nightmares himself but he didn’t want to steal away the focus onto himself so he did not mention them just yet. She spoke up again but with a cryptic message. How was he supposed to know who she was talking about? Sitting there, Mallan hoped that she would elaborate but it did not look like she was going to. Mallan let out a small, slow sigh so that Keaira would not hear or notice. He felt inept; useless. He hated feeling useless. All he knew was that he needed to find some way for her to talk; some way for her to get the things out of her mind even if only to hear herself say it.

I’m sure the headmistress is planning some way to inform the entire school. She might even be clinging onto the hope that they are still alive and does not want to cause a panic so soon. May I ask who is not coming back?

He didn’t know how to say it and so he just left it blunt. He hoped she would not take it the wrong way but he could think of no other way. The silence caused his thoughts to pick back up on the coldness of the hallway. To keep a little warmer, Mallan pulled his knees to his chest, crossed his arms and put them on his knees, and rested his head on his forearms while turning his head slightly towards Keaira to maintain eye contact.

[Keaira O'Connell]

As Mallan began speaking Keaira knew that had she been feeling better, there would have been a very pronounced sneer, and an audible scoff at the mention that the headmistress was holding out hope that they were alive. Keaira knew quite well that there was something about the headmistress that was not trustworthy. D’rorah simply had not seen it the night she was returned. It came to Keaira at that moment that she wasn’t sure if she ever expressed to D’rorah that she though the headmistress was working against them. After all didn’t D’rorah remember that she had once believed that Darko and Mord had tortured her in the shadow realm? A line of reasoning that was proven to be wrong, when we discovered it was in fact Gat Solider and another that had done those horrid things to her.

Keaira sighed and shook her head. There was no such hope that the headmistress was simply waiting to know their fate. She knew it quite certainly, that was a fact Keaira felt was firm. The headmistress was more likely waiting until it would not look suspicious for her to have found out. After all Dien had been killed this past Saturday, and Keaira had a front row seat for that one. Then the news of Wysteria’s death had been received by the light fighters on Monday. For the headmistress to know any sooner, without connections with either side would have been outrageous. She was waiting until she could confront the idea without looking suspicious. Keaira made a mental note to bring up the headmistresses allegiances the next time she was with D’rorah.

Mallan’s final statement was so forward. The boy did not seem to have a good grasp on the situation. But then again she had not been very forth coming during her ordeal. The faintest ghost of a smile seemed to come across her lips as her mind thought of something she found particularly funny. Just the sort of comment that Alessandro might find amusing.

“It a wonder the Gryffindors and Slytherins are known not to get along well, you guys sure lack the cunning needed to play our games.” It had not been an insult, not really. More of a playful comment, one that she had expressed with no malice in her voice, only a teasing not quite there laughter. After pausing a moment to see what his reaction might be she continued speaking. “Dien, he’s well, dead, at least I’m pretty sure he is. I watched him die, but I also watched him go from being a ghost to a human, what’s to say he won’t just become a twice dead ghost? Then there’s Alessandro. His parents took him out of school. He’s not safe there, and the Mage will not hesitate if she sees a way to weaken us. I’m just worried.”

Each thing she said was spaced out. She paused between nearly every other word as she forced the great burden out of her. It was a slow task, but she was simply thankful that Mallan seemed intent on listening so he might be able to help her. As she mentioned watching Dien Die she lifted her left hand up to touch her still bandaged right arm. She would have to rewrap it before she went back to sleep, as she noticed that the bandaging seemed a tad lose, and there were a few light red lines that were showing through. The wound was slowly healing, a task that had been made more difficult with each night that she tossed and twisted in her bed. If she wasn’t careful she would not heal before the next encounter with the Mage, and she would know where to hit her to inflict more damage. When she had finished speaking her hand still lay gently resting on her right arm.

[mallan]

It was a good feeling to see a ghost of a smile appear on Keaira’s lips and Mallan thought that things were going better. Of course he did not realize that he was merely entertaining her with his naivety. Her next comment threw Mallan out of the field; he was most definitely not prepared for the kind. At first he was insulted and an offended appearance burst upon his visage. After a moment he wasn’t sure if she was truly trying to insult him or not. He thought about it for an instant and could not believe that someone would openly insult another when they were just trying to help. Then an epiphany came upon Mallan. “She must enjoy Sadane,” Mallan thought. He remembered reading something of the sort. Sadane, as he recalled, is the art or game of impromptu criticism. Not being a mere insult but rather a biting denouncement of a piece of art, a book, or even the characteristics of another person. It is almost always based upon the legitimate faults of the target and if a person or piece of art is genuinely without fault, sadane may be impossible. With that thought in mind, that meant, that there must have been some truth behind her words if she was indeed making use of sadane. Mallan realized that he still looked green to the game, due to his first expression, but he would try and participate nonetheless. If these games made her happy then he would do his best and if he failed at them; well, he already knew she enjoyed mocking his inexperience.

We prefer to keep our minds unclouded by games. (Mallan winked to show he was playing the game and not attempting to purely insult her)

After Mallan replied, Keaira continued and so he hoped she wasn’t annoyed that he seemingly jumped in to add his comment. The slight ping of hurt still lingered from her insult and caused him to almost miss the first few words that she spoke after her comment about Gryffindors. At her words everything came slamming together. He now understood her distress and troubled appearance. Mallan was still amazed that ghosts were comfortable being around the living in the magical world. The idea of ghosts still made him lightly uncomfortable but he was getting used to them; as they were here in Hogwarts and always attempted conversation. He still did not understand how a ghost could be human again but decided against asking; he wasn’t in the mood to hear a lecture and he was sure she was not either.

Her mention of the safety outside the school brought forth the memories of the Room of Requirement. There were dangers all over that they needed to be aware of and even after the meeting Mallan still did not take them completely to heart. Mallan made a mental note to be more careful and stay on guard. His life was in danger as well as Alessandro’s and Keaira’s. Not only did he have to watch out for his own life he needed to watch out for the others. The comment at the end held a strong connection. She felt something for Alessandro it seemed. That also helped explain some of her worrisome image. Though it did not help with Mallan’s helplessness; he still felt it. All he could do was make a promise to help.

If Dien becomes a ghost once again, he will find us; I would not worry about him. However, the danger is true for Alessandro. He is not safe alone. All I have to offer is my aid. If you ever need it, I will be there.

Normally he would have just tried to comfort her and tell her everything was going to be alright. However, that did not seem prudent and would only seem foolishly careless. Right now, Mallan thought that Keaira needed to know that people were with her and that she had support if she needed it rather than knowing that Alessandro might be okay.

[Keaira O'Connell]

With her mind occupied on the thought of Dien and Alessandro dying similar deaths, Keaira didn't even notice when Navee had returned with a small tray of food and drinks. The tray held a variety of things to snack on and to drink. Mallan's requested glass of tea, a glass of warm milk, a sliced banana and green apple, several other varieties of fruits and a small bowl of oatmeal were also placed in a neatly arranged fashion on the tray. It made Keaira a bit happy to know that there would always be a friend when she needed one, even if she was a house elf. Retrieving the glass of milk, Keaira took a tentative sip from the warm glass, and then set it on the floor. It warmed and soothed her throat much like the tea had earlier.

With her thirst quenched, and all she needed to satisfy her hunger with in reach Keaira looked up at the small elf. Navee's eyes searched Keaira's, as if they were looking for anything else she could do to help. There was nothing that Keaira needed she would be fine. "Thank you Navee, I'll be alright form now on, and as long as Mallan doesn't need anything else, please, go back to bed and get some rest. I'm sorry to have woken you up at this hour."

Mallan's mention of Dien finding them again went unheeded. If Dien were a ghost and in the shadow realm than it was much more likely that he would be trapped there forever. Doomed to wander that plane of existence, and never find his way out again. It was a thought that nearly made tears flow freely from her eyes again. Dien even if he were still out there, had little hope of finding them again. and that was what she would believe until the day she was proven wrong. It was better that way.

Unconsciously Keaira reached for the tray of fruits, selecting two slices of banana, and a slice o an apple. They were after all her favorite fruits, although, she tended to eat them at very different times of day. Banana's for night time snacks, apples for morning and early afternoons. Keaira simply popped the banana slices in to her mouth with out a second thought, knowing that they would not upset her stomach. But the apple was another thing entirely. As she looked at it thoughts of Alessandro came to mind. Eating fruits with Alessandro, and Wysteria in the park, turning Alessandro into a mouse after he transfigured a basket of rats in to apples. The day that she left for China, she sat in the great hall, eating Apples, and holding Alessandro's hand. Her mind went over each instance, wishing that she could see his face again, but knowing that for now, she would have to wait.

The offer of help if she needed it lingered in the air as Keaira sat there in silence snacking on what was given. Surely the offer was simply stated because they were on the same team, and if he did not offer such a thing it would look bad. Keaira had little faith that he would do it out of the kindness of his heart. No one was that foolish. She nodded her head, to acknowledge that she had heard his offer.

"I'll keep that in mind. Although, chances are that if you were needed, by the time you got down to the first floor we would already be gone. I am not one for waiting around. But I appreciate the offer any way. Thanks."

Keaira rested her head back against the wall, and took another sip from her milk. Sleep was beginning to edge its way in to her again, and she knew that she would soon be making the trip back to the dungeons. Keaira let her eyes shut for a second, as she breathed out. There was so much that she wondered about, so much that kept her dreams in such a state. With her eyes still closed Keaira softly whispered the question that plagued her.

"Mallan, you know, I sometimes wonder whether D'rorah will succumb to the darkness first, or if I will. Surely you've noticed the darkness that threatens to overtake her at times. I wonder if I would be able to take the torture she did and be able to keep my sanity."