Prologue: The Children and the Demons

In another world, in a world parallel to our own, a building exploded. To be precise, it was a castle, and boy, did it burn. The castle was stone and Digizoid and the fire was visible miles and miles away once it got that high. It woke the sleeping peasants, and filled them with dread. That castle was meant to be closed off, to never be touched by any but the ancient. And now the seal on it was broken. Were they all going to die? After many years of peace and all of that, would the creatures locked inside, the monsters who were supposed to have died in there, going to get out?

Well, if they were dead, those were stupid questions. However, common sense said they were alive. Dead one wouldn't make such wild noises once a year. They wouldn't spread a fire.

The few citizens, old and superstitious, were prepared to flee. However, instead of monsters razing the farmland, the small set of guards stationed farther away made it there. They aimed to put out the flames and return the gaggle of prisoners. However, the prisoners were nowhere to be found. They almost were presumed dead.

Almost.

Someone happened to see the little sparks of grey and black inside one of the cells.

My name is Akira. Don't worry, I won't be here long. I'm just dropping off a few things. Who am I? I'm just an observer. I used to be involved but things kinda happened. Like, you know how you go into something thinking you've got it all handled, and it goes real great at first, but then it's all over after that? That's kinda what happened with us. I know, that's vague, but this isn't my story. It's theirs. Let me show you them, and then I'll get out of the way, and let them tell the rest.

I want to tell you everything, believe me. But that would be more energy than I have to spare right now. Find out with them, okay?

The first place I stopped was a small apartment. A pair of siblings unpack their rooms. They're screwed. Too foreign, too fair haired, too unsuited to the size of the place they live.

That said, they still smile when their sister checks on them, and act like nothing is wrong. They've always done that, it's a bad habit, kids, don't do it. Be honest.

"Dinner will be soon," I heard the oldest say. "You can finish in the morning, can't you?"

They mumbled assent like good little kids, and as they left, I slipped the calling card out of sight. They'll find it in the morning, when they're not exhausted and only terrified.

This is the only way we can make things right for everyone.

Even if one doesn't remember, she may someday. She will be called again. The Digital World is stubborn and stupid.

The next place was inside of an old room, in an apartment that seemed too small for three people. Inside, a kid sat and drew, colors covered with a misty film of dust. He was little, fragile in appearance, but he sat with a calm to his young face and works. Heh. He's a good kid. He's always known what he wants. Steady hands rubbed the charcoal into the paper, toyed with the pastels strewn about the carpet.

It was almost like someone lived in this room.

I know otherwise. It's my fault. Well, sort of.

Once in a while, he would raise the sketchbook and look around in silence, expecting some sort of comment. I want to answer him, to tell him the picture is beautiful. But he can't hear me and I dunno if he ever will.

So I left my answer under his bed pillow, and hope he's going to find it.

A girl ran up the stairs for the second time that night, driven from a place she doesn't know if she wants to be in anyway. These nights, they happen at least once a week. The others are against her. I say, if we're going to pick people, we may as well pick her, if no one else will. Just have to be careful. If she sees, she won't go. Smart kid.

I hope she'll go as much as I wish she'd stay away. Finding yourself was something you had to do when you weren't at home to be told what to do.

Then again, she ignores the rules anyway.

She was such a tiny thing, this next one in her bed. She'd been squashed by things that don't belong to her. It was like she was born for her part. Well, she probably was. I wanted to tug her in, tuck her away, because the littlest ones have the best luck at the beginning. But I can't. She was being watched, like a lamb for the slaughter. I've never liked lambs.

We will try to save you. We will try. They will try. Kids protect their own.

Maybe I'd get lucky, and she could save herself.

I saw her eyes open, and she looked at me, or towards me. Either way, the sensation was uncomfortable. I didn't move. We just stared at each other, as much as we could, and then she shut her eyes again.

Just in case she'd look again, I kept moving. The less the old man sensed of me, the better.

This one wasn't our decision, but well, it's probably a good thing. She was crazy enough for it to not matter.

She didn't walk, she sauntered. Her head was always held high, her steps brisk. The beautiful suite was too bright, her servants often squinted. She didn't lack fear, not of the ruler to her wrists or the possibility of bruises I can't see. What she lacked was a challenge.

My friends appreciated the stupidity, at least a couple of them.

Hopefully however she got involved would give her that challenge. We had enough troublemakers running around.

The last sat in his empty house. He practiced smiling in the mirror, cooking rice for two when there was currently only one, playing with meat spices and scratching at homework he didn't understand. I know this kid a bit. He'd never been good with the standards of education. Yet there he was. preparing for the tests. Or trying to study for them when he has no dreams. I envied that and pitied it. All things considered, I can't tell what's worse.

When the phone rang, he ignored it. When there was a knock at the door, he jumped to it. The present, not the past. Thank god.

"Guys!" His voice had always been loud, but with people it seemed to come from a stereo system.

The other boy, old and young at the same time, danced in first because as far as I can tell, walking was too mainstream for him. He's a good kid, if that means anything to you. It meant a lot to me.

I picked the boys when I saw them. They were perfect fits, better than I could ask for.

The girl who joined them was nearly a woman, and her steps proved it. She walked with murder in her eyes, whether she meant it or not. I knew I shouldn't linger, not with the last two in view, but I couldn't help it. I wanted her to see me. I wanted her to call my name, I wanted her to run over and hug me and lose those circles under her eyes.

I waited for her to look, for her to even glance in my direction.

For a second, I thought she would. Then, kilometers away, something exploded into flames. It caught her gaze. It caught the gaze of all of the children. Blue fire, sparks of white. In that moment, I hurried away and turned my back again.

I've always hated seeing laughter turn to tears, but right now, I don't think I have a choice. Like I said, we screwed up, and we can't make up for it anymore than we already have.

But there was one place left, I couldn't succumb just yet.

The demon walked through a palace made of crystal.

Crystal was perhaps an understatement. Perhaps they were more like inverted mirrors. Translucent, serene, darkness rippled through each side like a pool of disrupted water, the changes moving without touch. A child's face flickered into each facet, the jagged sides warping the gentle features into cold, high cheekbones and eyes the color of mud.

I'd dropped her enough times to know not to look at them.

The demon paced, claws clacking against the ground. His many eyes shut and opened as he breathed. The mouths on his body slobbered and snapped as though there were flies to devour.

He was angry. That was fine. He couldn't hit me, though he'd tried a lot.

"So little time spent," he finally said. "The worlds have waited eons for you to run out of steam, little maggots. And now, now, in your last ditch efforts to linger, you do this!"

Yes, humans were fast learners. Our hourglasses were smaller.

He screamed these words, the hissing howl full of laughter. "Oh, you humans! You sweet, stubborn, beautiful animals. I love you so. I wish my time had not passed with so few skirmishes before. Very well, my children. Very well, play. I enjoy a good game, as you well know."

I wished I had a chair, or something to throw at the gargantuan. Then again, that wouldn't be right. I was dealing with a gentleman, or something like that.

He stalked to a window, the acidic drool from the canine mouths dissipating into the air. Looking out over the endless sea around him, he smiled all the wider.

"Play with me, and I promise a game that will stretch your paltry imaginations."

I allowed myself to smile, to be a bit cocky again. It'd been a while. "All right then," I said, and I knew he could hear me. Considering what he had done, there was no way he couldn't. "Let's get started."

People say time flows like a steady stream. People say that if we don't slow down, we'll lose all of it, and people say if we go too slow, it will run away from us.

I wonder if that really matters. We have what we have, and we shouldn't waste it. For those like me, though, it's already too late.

All we can do is watch from here, and hope. We have to pray we're giving these kids enough because we didn't get that.

Well then, I should go, before I get yelled at. Good luck with these guys. They're a handful.

A/N: Okay, I'm going to stop editing now. I'm going to stop rewriting sentences and fretting and whatever else it is I do over this fic. Do you guys remember Crimson Crossroads? I hope not; it was terrible. I'm going to hope and pray that this one is better. I like it anyway. Please let me know what you think!

Challenges: Advent Calendar Challenge day 20: write about anything, and Lego Cabin Challenge.