A/N: I've noticed a trend in my writing that I would like to share with you all.

I love to torture my favorite characters. I guess this means I adore Raine, because she seems to go through the most crap. She got beat up in my other story "Partners" too. I'm enamored with Zelos, Genis, and Yuan as well, and I feel affection for Colette. Now I believe I must retire though I'd be pleased to stay and think up more synonyms for 'like' all day.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"Move!"

I'm paraded along the streets of Triet, deemed no longer much of a threat after they bound my hands with shackles. A group of five Elite guard me, three males and two females who enjoy prodding me in the back with the sharp end of their spears. By the time I reach the Elite fortress where Letram supposedly resides, the back of my Triet desert robe is in tatters and little ribbons of blood flow down my back, marking my trail. As if anyone would follow it- I had seen Sheena last, and she didn't rush to my rescue. Now it's too late, now the gates of the fortress are within reach.

"Move, you Inferior Being!"

A spear prods into my back, one too many times. I won't suffer this indignity any longer. I twist around, my eyes blazing as I tackle into my captor, easily slipping off these silly little shackles they think can bind someone like me. Knocking his toy spear away, I grab his arm and hook one foot around his leg, forcing him to the floor and twisting the elbow, pushing down until it snapped with a dry crack and the lesser angel began to scream, loud and shrill and beastly.

When his friends finally came and beat me off of him, he also had a few dozen mortal wounds from the knives I had hidden on my person without their knowing. Being a half-elf specialized in learning how the body works means you know how to kill as readily as you know how to heal. The Professor is willing to utilize this knowledge with a dark glee.

A female angel claps another set of shackles onto my wrists, crashing the pommel of her sword against my temple and sending me to the ground, her booted foot connecting with my grinning and (now bloody) mouth.

Perhaps now they'll treat me with the respect I deserve, and maybe my new captor will realize I'm twice the bitch she thinks she is.

"I will not be man-handled!" I say between my gritted teeth, kicking out at the angels who were now dragging me behind them, one angel on each arm while a second pair of shackles binds my feet. They decide to leave the dead Elite in the sand to eventually dry up and become sand as well, and all I can see is the single trail my feet and blood make as I'm pulled towards my fate. Shamefully, it is in this manner in which I meet the second in command of the Elite.

Maddox is just like Sheena described him, with dark hair spiked up at impossible angles and a smirk ever present on his face. Seeing him in person, he reminds me immediately of another angel I know, who walks with the same militaristic stride and arrogant attitude. Do all seraph leaders go to a certain school that cultivates this behavior or is it just the luck of the Professor to find two such specimens within a hundred mile radius? Yuan's smirking face easily overlaps with that of Maddox, and maybe it's the desert heat but at times I found it hard to make a distinction between that and the reality.

I find myself wishing that I hadn't shown such an uncharacteristic level of violence earlier and, though it might not have had the desired effect considering my current state of captivity, smile charmingly at him. I clink my shackles in a form of greeting to this former half-elf, hoping to gain his attention, though for what I honestly can't imagine. All I know is that he's the one I need to be concerned with- he's the leader of the enemy forces and Letram's right hand man. He ignores me, intent on only my captors as they report to him. I decide to let him know I'm alive, because the Professor simply will not be ignored like this.

"Is this really any way to treat your prisoners of war, Maddox?" I ask him, blood dripping from my split lip.

This gains his attention somewhat, though only as an order for the female angel to let me stand up straight so that one of her goons could drive a spear butt into my abdomen. Naturally this causes me to lose both my wind and my balance and I fall into an ungraceful heap onto the floor. Shameful. I get up to my knees, my head bowed as I take shallow, sharp breaths to try and ease the pain. If my feet hadn't been fettered together I might have been able to make a run for it, but no. I remain at the mercy of the angels.

"What is this," Maddox says, looking down at me bleeding on the toes of his boot. Glassy orbs that might have been eyes before he put on that Cruxis Crystal glitter with suppressed emotion. I look away from them to concentrate on the spear in his hand. It's no crude thing; the haft made of dark wood strong as steel and the blade intricately designed obsidian. Seeing the edge of that spearhead glinting in the Triet sun, I realize the danger of my situation for the first time. Here I was, throat exposed and bound like an animal for the sacrifice, and none would mourn be but my brother. An icy chill forms over my heart and I mentally shrug away my weakness. C'est la vie.

"Sir! An intruder, most likely aligned with the traitor Lloyd Irving Sir!" one of the males says, clicking his gauntleted right hand against his helmet in a salute.

"I'm not a traitor, I'm a Renegade," I say, and somewhere far off I hope Yuan feels proud that I acknowledged him and his organization. I guess I'm just not content with the beatings they had given me. No, no, I wouldn't be satisfied until they decided to be done with it and kill me. Self-preservation wasn't the first thing on my mind, it never was. I only ever wanted to live to care after my brother, Genis, and it's beginning to seem to me like he can care for himself. But in the meantime, the anger is still roiling inside me, and I have nothing to lose. The anger of the Professor, who doesn't follow the rules that sanity had put down, drives my actions now. I glare up at Maddox, spitting at him and his swagger and militaristic stride and handsome, cruel face.

He raises his hand as if to strike me and despite my resolve to die I throw up one arm to block it, wincing in fear of the pain to come, because no one ever said they had to kill me quickly.

"Stop!"

I look up when Maddox jerks to a halt, looking over my shoulder to see the impossible.

Sheena. She'd come to rescue me after all.

Idiot girl!

"You…" Maddox snarls, pouring all his anger into that one accusing word. He grips his spear, hefts it up quivering with rage, and points it directly at her. "You dare interfere again?"

"Looks like the harlot doesn't have her spirit pals to help her this time, either…" one of the angels says, her fingers twitching with the urge to wrap around her pale throat and squeeze the life out of it. One by one I see them ready their weapons, fluttering their wings in excitement. I whisper for her to flee, not loud enough to be heard but surely my feverishly wide eyes could convey the message.

In response, Sheena smirks, unsheathing her new sword in a fluid motion that the angels could only hope to imitate and gracefully falls into a fighting position, her brown eyes seeking mine. I've got it all under control! Her eyes say, and I can't help but believe them even as the Professor rages inside my mind: Why does she have to be such a hero? Doesn't she realize she's outnumbered? Why does my heart lift when I see her standing there, chest rising and dropping with heavy, angry breaths— and I know she's only angry because I'm in danger? I don't want her to save me; I've already resigned myself to death. I don't want to feel hope, not if it's just going to be taken away from me again.

But Maddox isn't particularly interested in what her eyes have to say- he's too busy staring at her hands and working his jaw in an attempt to speak. "My sword!" he finally says, spittle flying from his mouth and his face turning livid with rage. He hurls the spear at her so fast my eyes could barely track it.

"Kill her!"

Suddenly, a second pair of angels grabs my feet and my insides give a sudden lurch as we defy gravity and the angels unfurl their wings, flying up to the roof of the solid black tower. I buck, trying to shake them off and fall to the ground before we're too high for me to do anything but wait. I can't help it; I needed to live a little longer even if it was only to make sure Sheena would be OK. She still had a life, it wasn't fair.

But even though I'm wearing an ex-sphere, they're wearing Cruxis Crystals and had a sheer strength I simply couldn't hope to match. Craning my neck as the scenery rushes by, I realize there are no doors or windows all the way up. The only exit and entrance is through the top of the tower, and if I know anything about fortresses the prison cells were likely the farthest from the entrance. At the root of the tower, in other words.

My hope dies.

Once we reach a safe landing point the angels at my feet drop them unceremoniously, letting me be dragged along again towards the elevator that would send me to my cell.

What a hassle, I think through a mind dulled with lost hope, dragged blindly into the semidarkness, to be flown all the way up here just to be sent all the way back down again, just to get past a measly black wall…

OoOoOoOoOo

"Genis, run!"

Sheena yells my name so shrilly her voice cracks, and before I know it I've turned tail and I'm running away so fast it's a wonder I don't trip over my own two feet. The white rectangle of light that signified the door is only a yard away, a mile away, and my chest is already burning. So are my eyes, but I can't stop to think about that now. All I have to do is reach Gnome, and he would take me back and I could quit this suicide mission.

She made me promise to obey and I'm following orders I promised her I'd follow orders she told me to run I'm following orders I came to rescue Raine but how can I do that? Sheena…Sheena said…

Raine!

I whip around, pulling out my kendama from its sheath on my belt. Once there was a time when I was so small I needed to strap it across my back to keep it from dragging across the floor, but that time is over. The power wells up and bubble inside me, frothing out of my mouth in the form of arcane symbols, pure white light spreading around me and forming a magic circle. Searing hot winds blow my silver hair back from my face, forcing me to close my eyes, tugging at the ends of my sleeve like a group of roughhousing children. And when I'm filled with this power, all my timidity is eroded away and I'm left grinning in the face of death. I feel like maybe I could be a hero. Or maybe a male version of Raine.

"Wanna charge?" I ask the angel rushing towards me, gliding on silent wings and her taciturn eyes burning with her own mana. Dodging that would be a piece of cake- she's moving like she's running through molasses since her Cruxis Crystal is set to sacrifice speed for raw destructive power. I turn my head to the side, bending away slightly as she swings. It misses, crashing into the ground with enough force to split the marble tiles and make a small crater where I had been standing moments before. I pull my hand up, pointing with my kendama directly at her.

"Thunder Blade!"

Pure mana bursts forth, a spearhead pointed directly at her. She leaps back, deflecting it with a barrier spell, but I had been expecting this. Not wasting any time, I quickly follow her retreat and thrust out with my kendama, jerking my wrist to the side so that the spiked ball flies out of its case and straight into her face, snapping her nose. I yank it back into its case and then smash the blunt end of the hammer-like weapon into the back of her head, sending her toppling down. The impact sends a jolt up my arms and I almost drop the kendama, gritting my teeth against the sting.

I spare a glance in the direction of the room I had left Sheena in, expecting to see her battling her way towards me as well. Maybe if we both moved towards each other we could stand a better chance against the hordes, and then she could call Gnome and-

My train of thought comes screeching to a halt. Sheena isn't kicking ass like she normally is- she's on the floor, completely still. Dead. Unconscious. I don't know. Three angels crowd around her, one of them carrying the war hammer that did the deed. Fat red drops fall from the blunt end, and suddenly my arms don't hurt so much.

"Get away from her!"

Leaping over the angel I had downed, I run straight back the way I came with rage fueling my limbs. Kicking, punching, and magically blasting my way through the increasing number of angels barring my path, I feel the mana begin to well up inside me again, unbidden. At first this out-of-control feeling scares me, but then I begin to realize what it is and pick up the pace. Wave after warm wave of power escalates inside me, building up and ready to explode until I find my vision actually blinded by it and by the arcane symbols that etch themselves into my mind and soul.

A new spell.

Sweet.

I leap high into the air, impossibly high, with my kendama raised above my head until I bring it down with a resounding crash. "SHOCK WAVE!!"

Boom! The area spell hits the ground and they're outta here! A dozen angel Elite go flying back to heaven and I bounce back to my feet, hands aglow with mana as I spread a wildfire in the tower, blasting away at anyone who dared to come near a master mage.

"Explosion!"

And I'm almost there. I can see the bloodstains on her purple kimono. That's how close I am- how close I was until the ground began to shake under my feet. I jerk to a stop, waving my arms and rocking back and forth trying to keep my balance as the marble floor actually begins to roll, like waves. Jagged spikes erupt out of the ground, taking out a few score of angels at a time with each blow. Gnome's cackles fill the room, and the summon spirit's humor caused the death of the Elite.

Not knowing exactly what had happened but willing to take advantage of the distraction, I try to make the final few yards between me and Sheena. If I could reach her, we could escape…! But my feet don't move. I look down in alarm, wriggling wildly in the quicksand that had enveloped my feet, ankles, knees, thighs. Throwing one last look in Sheena's direction, I see an angel kneeling next to her and picking her up gently as a parent with a sleeping child. Somehow noticing me amidst the destruction of his troops and the mayhem that Gnome was causing, he suddenly turns towards me with his eyes wide. His mouth parts as he cocks his head to the side, sea-foam green hair swishing over his shoulder.

"Genis," he says, his voice crystal clear over the chaos.

Letram. The name comes unbidden to my mind. This was the leader of the enemy angels, this boy who looked like he could be my age. And seeing him now, for the first time, I know exactly who he is. It hits me with all the subtlety of a brick to the face and I feel myself choking on disbelief. And grief, yes, I grieved for him for so long, and I wonder how the Renegades couldn't have seen it before I did. The way his name was spelled- the color of his hair wasn't enough to hide it- his eyes- his face- his youth- his voice as he calls out my name as if we'd been friends, or maybe more.

No! You're not here, I saw you die—!

The quicksand envelops me, and then I'm free-falling through the tower of the angels. If I die, maybe I can ask the Goddess why, why do I have to go through this twice in one lifetime? My mind begins to grow dark, my vision fuzzy, and I fall into a dead faint.

OoOoOoOoOo

The ground shakes. My captors stagger about the hallway, grabbing onto the walls and onto each other as the very tower they built began to shudder. What on Earth? I want to laugh at how ludicrous the scene looks, but I'm too busy wondering about morbid things that only prisoners have to think of. Besides, they'd take away what little light I had if I acted up.

I'd been locked up for what my internal clock told me was three and a half hours, and as if the cell bars weren't enough I also was still bound hand and foot with cold iron shackles. Eventually the quells subside and the angels see that I'm trying hard not to laugh and quickly make menacing motions with their spears until a high ranking officer comes along and they scramble to stand at attention when he arrives.

He stands outside my cell door, regarding me with soulless eyes.

"Who is this?" he says.

"Sir, an invader sided with the traitor Lloyd Irving, sir."

I was getting so tired of this routine.

"A traitor," he echoes, his voice distant as he reaches down through the bars with one hand to tear my desert shawl from my head. My tell-tale silver hair spills loose into my eyes, sweat and blood making it cling to my face and neck as I glance warily at him.

But he doesn't kill me. He frees me.

"A half-elf!" he corrects himself and his subordinates; the Professor in me can't help but say: "Yes, it does seem that way doesn't it?"

He snaps his attention to one of my captors. "She is our kin. Remove her shackles and remember that you were once a nonbeliever as well."

The Elite in charge of my captor party, one of the females, stiffens. "Sir, she killed Ragara sir. She is a danger to us if left to her own devices, she's…" the angel looks at me and I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes, bound and broken though I was. "Malicious. Ruthless, like a wild animal."

"Would you be kind to your executioner?" he asks the subordinate before driving his spear through her chest, skewering her. He lifts the dead solider up like a banner before flicking her off with a deft shake, an insect in life and the afterlife as well. I resolve not to feel pity for her.

He smiles at the remaining Elite. "Does anyone else see fit to question my orders? Let us hope that Ragara's incompetence was not contagious."

The soldiers are silent, lifting me up and taking my shackles off and giving me hope that I still had a chance of setting eyes on my brother's face one more time before I died.

The officer smiles at me, but it doesn't reassure me. "I can tell this one has much potential to become one of us."

If they didn't turn me into an angel before then.