The streets were empty, as the town of Heatherfield became it's own twilight zone; tall buildings encased in the redish blaze of the setting sun, and only a chilling breeze producing movement as the guardians of the Veil stood and searched the road-sides for life. "The whole town's gone trance marcher.. Hay Lin?"

"Shh.." Lord Cedric stood in his natural form, concealed within shadows as the only noisemakers silenced, and Lord Cedric sneered at the clumsy girls. The foolish leader, whom the Prince seemed so inclined to favor would easily be overtaken if he wanted to now. What struck Cedric as odd was that the Prince hadn't seen any such of an allurement from the blonde, despite that she was quite obviously the superior breed of each of these girls. Though it would be the smallest, who'd be the most useful today; her annoyingly light nature and high pitched voice aside. "That way."

"Thank you, radio Hay Lin!" Lord Cedric smiled. Yes, thank you. The Will had never struck Cedric as much more than a weak optimist, who used luck and her position to barely stay alive. On many standing points, she was the obvious heel of Achilles; the foible; the flaw, and it would be safe to say, as far as Cedric was concerned, that she was much in the same position as Phobos. Power of leadership was useless if it wasn't used correctly, and neither of the two seemed to actually hold any strengths. Except keys. Prince Phobos was the key to Elyon, and this red headed Keeper was exactly that: the Keeper of the Heart. Both sides seemed to be following leaders who only had items which were treasures to others. But Cedric could only remind himself to thank this weak link; after he'd followed them to the Horn. Yes, if he wasn't there yet, Cedric was sure that Caleb would enjoy to die at the hands of his fýlakas.

Lord Cedric held any battle cries to himself, as he felt his body changing at will.

...

Martin Tubbs smiled at the function he'd created; a town march had apparently occured, almost instantly from when the band had started playing, and Martin bubbled with a strong sense of pride at the sheer mass of the event. Everyone was here; he was absolutely sure of it, and Martin beamed as he took in the event happening around him. "Give me the Horn!"

Martin stumbled a little, as a tall man scrutinized him, a thin, strong hand outstretched. It was dispicable really, that someone would bother to try and steal, while Martin could actually see a pair of police officers marching not more than four feet away. "Uh, sorry, this is school property an-"

Martin lost his words, and stared at the tall, thin figure who seemed to fly towards him. A young, oriental looking woman, who landed and stood strong, as a wind blew her long, dark hair in it's two seperated locks, tied in long, purple ribbons that matched her skirt, but clashed with the turquoise of her tights and cropped top. He swore she looked like the kooky Hay Lin, but no, Hay Lin was only just thirteen.. And.. Wings.. "Lizard boy! What's he doing on this side of the Veil!"

"Hay-" Martin stumbled on his feet and his words, as suddenly his newest prized possesion was seized from his hands by.. Nothing. The Horn rose up, and Martin knew he had to be hallucinating, as the tall blonde caught and brought it to his lips and...

...

Mathew Olsen let his fingers slide over a guitar string, as two of his band members shuffled and stretched in the empty hall; and the darkness seemed to consume the place for lack of people or music. "It's almost eight, where is everyone?"

A dud was a dud, Matt was well aware, but moreso he knew that Heatherfield Institute was yet to throw an unsuccessful party; parcially due to it's spacious hall and killer sound systems that allowed for music to blare out at a top volume, but mostly because of the Headmistress' idle neglection of the usual prestigious 'security'. Explicit language; body 'language'; and more alcohol than could safely be distributed by the legal pupils, was not uncommon on a night like tonight. Proven, if anything, by the sixpack Andrew Hornby (who'd arrived with the band in order for the best 'smuggling' time) waved at Matt now. "Who cares."

fýlakas - Keeper

And, okay, we know Matty-Matt isn't a bad guy, but I figured realistically there wouldn't be quite as much of this 'goody-goody' act coming from everyone.