Yet another sleepless night. Colette Brunel sighed as sat up in bed. It was no use to get to sleep. True, the House of Salvation outside of Asgard was comfortable, but the angel transformation took away the girl's ability to sleep, as well as eat.

Carefully shifting, Colette got out of bed and started out of the room she and the others were staying. As she started for the stairs, she tripped over someone's leg. It was Kratos. The man looked questioningly at the Chosen as she blushed and brushed herself off.

"I'm sorry, Kratos. Did I wake you?" she asked.

"No. I was already awake. Is something the matter, Chosen?"

"I… couldn't get to sleep," she lied, but she managed to put on a smile. There was no use in worrying him or the others. He smiled, almost knowingly.

"I find it useful to count the stars, although, you may never be able to count them all."

"I'll try that. Thank you, Kratos." She stepped over his legs this time and headed down the stairs.

"Don't wander too far…"

As she reached the main floor of the House, Colette felt a questioning come over her. The Spiritua statue glimmered in the faint moonlight that seeped through the window. Out of habit, she approached it. There were so many questions buzzing through her mind. She hadn't been raised to ask questions about her journey, but what could she do? She was born human. Taking a deep breath, she began to pray to Martel, but this prayer was different.

"I don't know if you can hear me, or if you're even there.

I don't know if you would listen to this humble prayer.

They say my friends are outcasts, and shouldn't speak to you,

Still I see your face and wonder, were you once an outcast too?

Please help the outcasts, the hungry from birth,

Show them the mercy they won't find on Earth.

Lost and forgotten, the look to you still,

Please help the outcasts, or nobody will.

I ask for nothing, for I can get by,

But I know so many, less lucky then I.

Please help the outcasts, the poor and down trod,

I thought we all were united by love.

I don't know if there's a reason why some are blessed, some not,

Why the few you seem to favor…

They fear them,

Flee them,

Try not to see them…

Please help the outcasts, the tattered and torn,

Seeking an answer to why they were born.

Winds of misfortune have blown them about,

Please help the outcasts… don't cast them out.

The poor and unlucky, the weak and the odd…

I thought we all were united by love."

The statue did nothing, not that Colette expected it to. With a saddened look, she turned to leave and looked over her shoulder at the statue one last time.

"Just thought you should know… a lot of people are suffering. This is a lot of weight to put on just one person… well, angel now. Martel… were you an outcast?"

As if in response, a light reflected off one of the jewels and fell upon Colette. That small amount of moonlight calmed the Chosen down as she smiled with her questions answered.

"Good night."