He existed for a single, preeminent purpose; he lingered in a realm where he did not belong for that sole, momentous cause.

It was the only reason he lived; he was devoid of anything other that serving that cause that brought life to his soul.

And it was now time to do so.

- - -

Why did it have to end like this?

I can feel my essence draining away from me, and the sensation is agonizing. Each breath burns in my throat; each movement sets my limbs aflame. But the pain is lessening, each moment I draw closer to the end…

Soon it will be gone. All gone. I suppose I should be thankful for that. Yet I am not, for there is another pain, and I will never be relieved of this one.

The truth. The excruciating truth, the truth that sends me soaring through disorientation, darkness and unknowing…

The very truth I'll never discover. Even if I conquer death, fight it back and claim my prize, there will be no answers, for there are never any solutions. I have always been denied the truth.

It's almost as if I was sentenced to this life before I could breathe. Sentenced to this pain, this despair, this anger…it will never, ever go away.

The truth. The torturous truth. I'll never find the answers; find the cure to this pain…

Everything will end, and I will still be unknowing.

--

Ethan

It never ends, does it?

Three weeks have past since Rochelle death. Three weeks, and I haven't left my bedroom.

The pain is eating me alive. It's like fire in my bloodstream – everywhere, burning up what's left of me from the inside out. But it's colder than fire, slower, icier...more agonizing.

It's worst in my chest. The pain is gathered as though drawn; a knife in my ribcage, slicing through my heart, piece by broken piece.

A pain ten thousand times worse than anything I've ever faced.

Arkarian told me that I shouldn't just sit here, alone and miserable. He said that I should see and talk to people. That keeping everything locked up inside me wouldn't help, that grief was easier to handle when it was in the open….

I told him I'd talk about it to someone, anyone, but I guess I lied. I can't talk about it, can't talk it out; it hurts too much. It's too soon and too painful. Besides, I don't want to burden anyone else with my misery; I want to be alone with it.

Somehow, this is different from Sera's death. My sister died suddenly and shockingly – I didn't have time to grieve a lot; I was too busy comforting Mum and being angry at the world for taking her in such a cruel, unjust way. Angry at the people who didn't believe she'd been murdered, who thought I was insane. Angry at fate.

But it's not the same this time. Rochelle's death was predicted – prophesized. This time, I had a warning. But when the final battle passed and she was still alive we thought…I thought…

Wrong. I thought wrong, and now's she dead.

Everyone left me alone at the beginning, which I was thankful for. I need to be alone, alone with what I have left; the pain and memories of Rochelle. But after a week, everyone tried – multiple times – to drag me out of here.

Neriah's been here, Dad and Mum have tried to comfort me, Dillon and Matt double-teamed me a few days ago, dragging me out of my room by my ankles and outside, into the fresh air. It was nice, at first, then my thoughts drifted back to Rochelle and everything seemed to rot and turn sour around me.

Arkarian and Isabel have come by, too. I let them in, but their words don't register in my mind. Sometimes, Arkarian comes alone, and we sit together in silence, occasionally speaking, but nothing makes it to my groggy and disoriented mind.

Isabel stops by the most. She forces me to eat, practically shoving food in my mouth. It's all flavorless and sour. Isabel talks to me, everyday too, and sometimes I talk – no, mumble – back. Mundane, stupid things, and my voice is always hollow and barely audible, but it's a start, isn't it?

I can hear footsteps now, making their way quietly down the hallway. It's probably Isabel again – Dad must have let her in. Why doesn't she just leave, go on with her life and leave me alone with my pain? I hate burdening her with me.

"Hey," Isabel whispers as she enters, the door clicking shut quietly behind her. She's carrying a plastic bag, which means she's brought food again. Great.

Instead of replying, I give a small nod and turn away, gazing back out the window. I hear Isabel sigh.

"Ethan, are you ever going to come out of here?" She asks with just a hint of annoyance in her voice.

I shrug brusquely. "Why?" I mutter darkly.

"Because," Isabel says. Her voice loses all traits of irritation; it's softer now…begging, almost. "We miss you. We want our friend back."

"We?" I repeat huskily.

Isabel nods. "Yes, we! All of us! And Ethan…you've got to go on! I understand this is hard for you; you lost your soul-mate, Ethan. But you can't let that tie you down forever – you're not the first person who's been parted from their lover. Time goes on," her voice lowers, becoming gentler, softer. "Grief is hard to deal with, Ethan. But a few days go by and you have to go on without her. You'll miss her, everyday, but you have to go on."

"No I don't," I whisper quietly.

"Yes, you do!" Isabel replies with a fiery determination. "Rochelle's dead, Ethan, but you're alive! And life…it's about meeting the next day head-on and taking in all the new things it brings. You can't live in the past, Ethan. What's done is done. You'll die someday, too, and then you'll see Rochelle again, but until then you've got to live."

But I don't want to live, I think desperately. Not without her. Not alone.

Isabel seems to have read my mind and softens again. "You won't be alone in this, Ethan. You don't have to go on alone. We'll be here for you, whenever you need us. And we love you and miss you and we want our friend back. Do you know what it's like without you? The Named aren't the Named if we don't have you! We need you, Ethan; you're the glue in this group."

Need? Me? I take this in slowly. "S-"

"Don't," Isabel glares. "I want my friend back, not an apology. Got it?"

"Yeah," I reply. My voice is hoarse from disuse. "I guess I can get up…"

With effort, I push myself up, swinging my legs over the side of my bed and standing. I wobble for a moment, but Isabel moves over to my side and helps stabilize me. It's then that what Isabel said really hits me. I'm not alone – I don't have to be alone. I have my friends; I just didn't realize it before. Rochelle…she wouldn't want me to waste away here, alone with my pain.

"You're right," I mutter to Isabel. "Losing Ro…it still hurts. But maybe, maybe with everyone's help, I can make it." I give a weak smile.

"Of course you'll make it Ethan!" Isabel tells me, grinning. Impulsively, I hug her, flinging my arms around Isabel and squeezing. Isabel laughs and does the same. I'm not alone, and the pain…it's slowly starting to lessen.

Typically, at that moment, Isabel's cell phone goes off; a loud, obnoxious beeping noise. Scowling, Isabel pulls it from her pocket, flips it open, and brings it to her ear, muttering an unwelcoming 'hello.'

A moment later Isabel snaps the phone shut with such trepidation I nearly jump. "Bad news," she grimaces. "There's a demon on the loose."

Author's Notes: This is rushed and bad but I don't expect/aim for it to be wonderful or anything. It's only a quick test for me; though please give me feedback nonetheless. Reviews are much appreciated and needed. Thank you!