For GrandEmperess13, who asked so prettily. (: Since I couldn't very well add this to the other story, Nocte Dolcor. I had to make a sequel. But anyway, NOW I'm done. Possibly. Perhaps. Maybe.

Helen Magnus was dead. At 263-years-old, Helen Magnus was dead. It made no sense. His genius mind could not dissect this information, analyze it, and process it. However, his heart had no problems; it burned within his chest, as if hellfire was scorching him. It felt as if demons were on his heels, jaunting and jeering, chasing him as he slowly made his way down the long aisle.

Oh, how mocking it was, the long aisle! It scorned him, ridiculed him as he walked upon it. Why are you stepping down me? It should be her, in a flowing gown of white, dark hair stark against her skin, blue eyes shining. It should be her, making her way down me, a joyous smile on her face as she stared at you. There should be a priest, marrying you. You should be exchanging vows, tenderly trading a kiss before turning to face the clapping crowd. You should be away from me, carrying her through a threshold to an extravagant room where you would consummate your matrimony. You should not be walking down me, tears in your eyes, unable to look away from her corpse.

Stop it! Nikola screams in his head, blinking quickly. Stop it! It wasn't my fault!

Wasn't it?

He was now at the casket. No one stood around it, but her now-aged Sanctuary team - her surrogate children, really - sat on the front pews of the church, either crying or attempting to control their tears. Out of the four of them - for the Big Guy was there too - it seemed Henry was the most effected; of course, the little Wolf-boy would cry for his "mother", just as he cried for his "sister". Looking at the four made him sick. They should've helped! They should've saved her!

So should've you.

He rips his gaze away from them, turning instead to stare down at her body.

Her dark curls fell down around her shoulders, framing her face. Her once-bright eyes were now closed forevermore. Her lips were set in a small, peaceful smile, as if she were content with the world.

NO! This wasn't right! It wasn't his Helen; no, it was some poor imitation of her, some strange clone! His Helen would never be content with the world around here; there was always some wrong to be righted, some good to do, some life to save. That was one of the many things about her that he could never understand; then again, she was always such a better person than he.

Still, he had found some proof that it wasn't real! His mind - his brilliant, overtaxed mind - had played some cruel trick on him! Yet, as he heard the sobs of her friends and family, he knew that he was wrong. Helen Magnus was dead.

There's no way to bring her back now.

The tears finally escaped from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks as his trembling hand reached out to gently stroke her cold cheek. Gone. Dead. Fate was a cruel mistress indeed! Through blurry eyes he looks at her one last time before withdrawing his hand from her icy flesh and turning on his heel. He strode away, his tears belying his sure steps. He couldn't stand it - wouldn't stand it! He would not stay and watch her be buried. He would not watch the lid of the coffin be closed over her lifeless form, encasing her forevermore. He would not watch as his precious Helen was lowered into the ground. He wouldn't! He couldn't!

"I've made good on my promise, Brother."

The voice sent ice to his very soul and caused the tears to flow faster. His fault. All his fault.

A choked sob wrenched it's way free from his throat as he fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. Anguished sounds left his lips as he wept for those he had lost; for James, for Nigel, for his pigeon, for his mother and father, and most of all, for his Helen.

A haunting noise echoed in the wind, like the sound of twisted laughter.

All his fault.

Right! Well, I think I'm done now! XD Anyway, I know it fell a little flat, but review and make me happy? :3

- MP