Loverboy, you belong with Lovergirl, stop trying to deny it. You two are so OTP. Dump your girlfriend (or boyfriend, I don't judge) because you have found your soul mate. Lovergirl, I'm mildly sure he isn't an internet stalker, but keep pepper spray on you at all times, just in case.

StarFire: I haven't got writer's block, fear not; it's this thing called a test every single week that's got me slow. I would like to show you how things are at home, but, unfortunately, it wouldn't fit with the suspense I'm building.

EVERYBODY: I am sincerely sorry for getting this chapter out late! I actually had this finished Monday afternoon, but then my WiFi shut down… Fios… What are you gonna do… Anyway, so I also have another chapter, but it's not being released until Friday.

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Oh, god, no."

Cadeliah shakes her head sadly. I truly am sorry.

"No," whispers Swift-Song, blinking tears from her blind eyes.

Seth blinks the sleep out of his eyes, well aware of the sun that hadn't yet risen over the Whiteblood Gardens. The bite of the wind is sharp upon his face. He staggers back against the tent, throwing a hand out to ward off the light. The glow that'd drawn him outside subsides a millisecond later, sinking back from its point of origin. Seth opens his eyes, gaping at Chaos standing peacefully in the spot from where the supernova had originated.

The bright glare had awakened Seth from his deep slumber. He'd dashed outside, tripping over the threshold of his tent. But now, standing outside in the dark of the night, he sees that there's nothing wrong at all. Seth frowns. Chaos meets his glare sassily.

"Wha… What was that?" wonders Seth bleakly, still half asleep. His eyes itch, and it feels strangely cool.

Chaos cocks an eyebrow. "Pulse of energy. I performed a bit of minor teleportation magic. Strange you should see it."

Seth sways. "What are you doing up?"

Chaos laughs. "I'm a wolf. We live in the night. So on. " His eyes flash over Seth's body. A wolfish grin spreads over his face, revealing devilish fangs. "And you, sir, are in your underwear."

Heat flames in Seth's cheeks. Blushing beet red, Seth ducks back into his warm tent. He collapses into his cozy sleeping bag, straining to ignore the twinkling laugh of someone that shouldn't be here.

Boro frowns. The torchlight flickers over a particularly primal sketch, surrounded on all sides by Cadeliah's elegant handwriting. "You may think that this is the tale of a never-ending cycle, the tale of a particular series of events in Wolfen history that reoccurs often. You are completely and utterly correct." He snorts, eyes wavering from the script to the etched picture of a bullish man. Horns sprouting from its simple ink black head, the figure has a caveman feel to it, as though it had been painted by the primitive humans that'd walked the Earth after one of their relapses. The eyes are either awfully drawn or awful in general. He turns back to the painting on the wall. "But the cycle must always start with a story. And this story belongs to…Muefis?" Boro's frown deepens. "Mew-fiz? Mu-fiss? Mew-fiss? Mew-fiss. Definitely Mew-fiss."

"Muefis was a young albino minotaur, doing what all young minotaurs do. Flashing their horns, challenging others with greater strength, pirating for their current employers. But Muefis was different – cunning, clever. Muefis knew how to think, not just how to fight. He could brawl his fellows with more victories than any other minotaur. But the day came when all those battling minotuars battle not to establish dominance, but to impress a mate."

Boro smiles at the next bit, detecting the Cadeliah tones in the writing. "No species should ever claim to never do such a thing as fighting over a mate. You see it all the time. Great Wolves arguing over kills, male dragons slaying one another for thrill, phoenixes engaging in beautiful fire dances, leviathans taking chunks out of one another; even the unicorns strut their stuff for females with their dances of horns. But Muefis was despised, simply for the reason that all knew he was going to ascend into glory and free selection of any female he choose. You could, I suppose, call him a Prince.

"But, mere weeks before the sacred mating rituals, a miracle happened, one that has seldom ever arisen in any other situation. Muefis met a girl." Boro snorts, shaking his head. The torchlights sway. "I should've known," he mumbles under his breath. "Boy meets girl. Typical."

River-Song whistles. She walks alongside the group a little ways to the left, each of her long-legged steps lolling and careless. She bounces to the beat of her tune, bopping her head and sending her floppy ears tumbling. Her wings shiver with every step, the gorgeous design rippled with her gait.

Kendra's got to admit, River-Song's wings are beautiful. If Kendra ever sprouts wings because of her weird fairykind abilities, she wants wings like those. Wistfully, she stares at the elegant pattern of navy blue dots like splashes of paint over a pale grey backdrop and stripes and highlights of sky blue, all set onto a swallowtail's wing outline. It's unique and just graceful enough.

Bracken squeezes her hand and pulls her forward. "Your mother's going to kill me if I get you there a day late," he explains in a low whisper, rolling his eyes slowly. He grips Kendra's hand a bit tighter, causing her to look deep into his bluish pupils. "Besides, I still have to do my Christmas shopping."

Kendra cracks a smile, remembering when she had first explained Christmas a while ago. Apparently, from living in a cell for a few centuries, Bracken had been completely oblivious to a holiday in the winter. Christianity must not have had that big a hold on the world, or at least not one that a third-horned unicorn would've noticed. He'd been confused throughout the entire conversation. Now, after almost two Christmases with the Sorensons, he seems to understand the topic.

Kendra's smile broadens as she remembers first year with Bracken. Verl, the lovesick satyr that'd taken a liking to Kendra, had decided to gift her with another one of the toga-wearing sculptures of herself, this time with him sitting beside her. Though Kendra and the rest of her family had enjoyed an amused laugh from the ordeal, Bracken hadn't found it hilarious in the slightest. In fact, he'd been ashen and grey. Apparently, the satyrs Newel and Doren had neglected to tell either Verl or Bracken about the other. Doren had vividly described their interaction after the Christmas morning as an epic battle between the two forces of light over a beautiful maiden, whereas Newel had rolled his eyes and shunned Doren for the rest of her conversation with the satyrs.

Bracken, not to be outdone by a satyr, heaven forbid, had given Kendra an expensive-looking piece of pearl and emerald jewelry the next year. He'd said that it'd cost him nothing and that it had simply reminded him of her eyes, but Kendra didn't believe a word of it – then and now. She'd taken it to a specialist, and it turns out the piece is worth thousands because of the antique handwork. Though Kendra hadn't said anything on the subject, she'd worn it to more of a couple of her high school's formals.

She quickens her pace, falling into step beside Bracken. If Bracken's reading Kendra's thoughts, he doesn't give away a thing on his smooth and expressionless face. Well, he does glance at Kendra protectively once or twice before glaring at River-Song again, but that's nothing new.

Behind her, Chaos plods threateningly. On occasion, he comes so close to Kendra's neck she can feel his breath. Of course, this is the morose wolf's way of displaying protection to his sister, but the fact still remains: it's unbearably unpleasant.

Seth wavers out in front. It's odd, seeing him actually exercising a BBM cloak; the folds billow with every step, receding like a shadow after his feet. But it also seems strangely right, with his intense expression. His hand rests menacingly at his hip, Vasilis II displayed proudly. The step that he walks with is different than the gangly lope he'd assumed marching into Caelum Amplexu. It's harder, more experienced, less childish. Seth is maturing, and he's become a kick-butt warrior along the way.

River-Song launches into what Kendra assumes is the refrain of her slow song, closing her eyes and bobbing to the melancholy beat. Her wings tremble with the rhythm. Kendra jumps as another voice chimes in high above, the cadence matching the beat of River-Song's lullaby.

"Dancing slowly in an empty room!" sings Cassandra's high and melodious voice from somewhere in the treetops, the lovely noise blending with River-Song's notes. "Can the lonely take the place of you?"

In front of Kendra, Seth pulls into a stiff halt. His eyes fly to the canopy, searching it for Cassandra's white shape. Everyone – River-Song included – pauses and searches the treetops. Kendra's heart squeezes. The angelic bird hadn't been given permission by River-Song to enter the Whiteblood Gardens, and if the Fairy Wolf isn't fond of Cassandra's presence, she doubts there'd be anything she could do to help the owl girl.

Strangely, Cassandra's white feathers are invisible among the soft green leaves.

Even more strangely, River-Song seems calm, even impressed.

"You know the Lonely?" she calls with interest to the sky. Her cobalt eyes sparkle with mild excitement.

"Yes." Cassandra's voice is up; that's all Kendra can discern. "I wrote it, actually. Whispered it in the ears of a composer. Why? Do you like it?"

River-Song chuckles. She definitely seems impressed now. "Wrote it? That's the only good song of today's music. Makes sense it isn't human. You know, if you perform a duet with me, I might let you stay up there."

"Really?" The bird's voice is pleased. "You won't eat me?"

River-Song cocks her head. "Well… I'll try not to. I do get feeding frenzies from time to time, can't do anything about that." The Fairy Wolf glances at Kendra and grins. "But," she continues, still staring at Kendra, "if you stay up in the trees and never let me see you, then we'll get along fine. Oh, and don't go spreading rumors. This is a one-time thing."

Seth frowns. "Wait, you're just going to let her go?" he wonders, brow scrunching. Kendra's brother still searches the soft blanket of leaves suspiciously. "Not that," he adds hastily, "I mind, just, you know, I might've…"

"I did see you last night," laughs Cassandra, her voice twinkling, "if that's what you mean. Nice six pack, by the way. Oh, and I totally dig the Transformer undies."

Seth turns the color of Crimson's scales. He bits his lip. Kendra's amused by her brother's obvious discomfort. Hadn't Seth ever flirted with a girl before? A handsome kid like Seth's got to have some experience, right?

"Don't make fun of Optimus Prime," defends Seth, regaining his footing. Kendra rolls back on her heels; he does know what he's doing, after all. "What kind of undies are you wearing, missy?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" teases Cassandra. Kendra swears she sees a flash of white in the corner of her eye. River-Song conveniently looks the other way.

"Yes, actually, I would." Seth's smile is suave.

"Hello-Kitty, if you insist," chuckles Cassandra, her voice flippant. Bracken and Kendra exchange a glance. Kendra stares at Chaos. The old wolf had flipped onto his back, pawing the air like a retarded turtle, mouth open and tongue hanging, black coat fanning across the ground like a pair of wings, silent screams of joy echoing from his lips.

"Mind if I check?" asks Seth mischievously. Kendra whistles under her breath, impressed by her brother's way with words.

"In your dreams, Shadow Boy," mocks Cassandra in amusement. Good for her! "This is limited edition. Commoners like you rarely even get to glimpse grandeur like me."

"Don't get cocky," scolds Seth. "That's my job."

"Ended," informs River-Song disjointedly, her expression unimpressed and disapproving. "This conversation has just ended. Run along, Sorensons."

"I liked that conversation!" protests Chaos, staggering drunkenly to his paws. "Even you have to admit, there was serious adorbs there."

"Run along, Sorenson," jeers Cassandra, ignoring Chaos. "Come back when you're worth my time."

Seth shrugs indifferently. "Your loss." And with that, he turns on heel and marches off, black cloak fluttering behind him. It waves with more enthusiasm now, as if Seth had just proven himself to the fabric. His stride is long and just as proud as before, if not more; Kendra isn't sure why or how, but it seems her brother had received a confidence boost from his dismissal.

Bracken glances fleetingly down at her. Lowering his lips to Kendra's ear, the unicorn whispers, "What just happened there? And how did Cassandra even get into the Whiteblood Gardens?"

Kendra shrugs, leaning against him as River-Song begins wordlessly singing the opening notes of the song she'd been chanting. "I wish I knew," she whispers apologetically. "And she's got, like, free reign of Cadeliah's Library, so who knows?"

"Move it!" bellows Chaos bossily. "We've got places to be and people to see and Christmas to arrive on time for!"

"Muefis was drawn to this she-minotaur, and soon, she fell pregnant before the official mating season. This appalled the other minotaurs. Muefis was shunned by society, and his high ranking was revoked. But Muefis cared not. However, his odd ordeals attracted the attention of the nearest pack of Great Wolves. Frightened by his sudden show of affection and the amount of clan rules he was breaking, the pack made an agreement to kill his mate. They did so out of fear, unsure of what would happened to the balance if the minotaur developed loving emotions for one another against the codes of nature."

Boro's legs quiver as violently as the orange light of the torches. "They struck when Muefis was out on a raid as a mercenary, annihilating the few of Muefis's friends that had stood by him. Muefis returned to find his pregnant loved one dead, and his close companions slaughtered. In his vehement fury, Muefis struck out, going on a wild rage. Muefis killed everything in sight brutally, searching for wolves, but caring not if he gored something else. The blood of the wolves stained his white bull horns and pale hands black, coloring his pink nose the exact shade of ink. His white fur was marred by dark smudges inflicted by those he killed. They stuck with him for the rest of his life."

Boro frowns. He still does not have any idea how this relates to the demonic figure dancing in the center of the text, but he reads on. "Muefis at first lead a life of solitude, not allowing himself close to civilization after the destruction he'd caused. Instead, Muefis trained himself in the dark arts, becoming one with the night completely. The minotaur harbored a great hatred for wolves, and was not afraid to let the wolves know that. However, he kept his distance, knowing the loss of lives that he'd caused that day made up for their mistakes in the minds of everyone he'd meet. The minotaur continued to prejudice until a wolf by the name of Judd.

"Judd was unlike other Great Wolves. He followed a path of darkness as well. Not only was Judd sorry for what his ancestors had done to Muefis, but he was kind enough to try and teach the minotaur a way of life other than evil and dark. He showed Muefis how to love again. Muefis slowly, under Judd's gentle teaching, released the pain on his burdened heart and flew free. He gladly helped others, and felt most of his prejudice fade away. Though his despising attitude would never disappear completely, he would learn to admire their certain skills and envy their talents.

"Judd died eventually, as all mortal things do. Suffering greatly from his companion's loss, Muefis began a new organization in Judd's honor, one to celebrate the path of darkness: the Nyx Clan. Pupils of any species were allowed and taught. Centuries past, and barrier after barrier of Muefis's either fell or built again. He watched as his warriors excelled in youth and faded off into retirement and eventually died off. He lived through battle and through agony. All of this sharpened his soul, callousing it against the world. Resentment grew in his heart, molding his attitude into one of anger instead of happiness.

"Yet again, a saving grace descended. This time, it was another wolf. This wolf intrigued Muefis like nothing ever had before, captivated him. From the moment Muefis clapped eyes upon the wolf, he knew there would be no student he would remember more. The pure white wolf's name was Chaos."

The light pours over Cassandra's feathers as she drifts to the end of the song. She suts her eyes, damming the flow of tears there. River-Song below her falls silent, but the fact seems insignificant and unimportant. The lonely, all around her. Engulfing her. Swallowing her. Cassandra bows her head.

Nobody cares about the Scribe. She's always been here, in the background, smiling as others fell in love around her. But love? She'd thought she'd felt it once. But that was a long time ago. A very, very long time ago.

It isn't so much the realization that aches. It's the lack of comfort. What people seldom acknowledge is that the one who gives reassurance is the one who needs it most. What they seldom acknowledge is that the strongest of people hide the weakest of spirits. What they seldom acknowledge is that the owl wants to be loved, just like everyone else.

This is just how Cassandra's mother had started.

She squeezes her eyes shut with more force.

I will not be like her. I am not her. I will never be like Tatiana.

"That really wasn't a happy song they were singing back there," states Seth casually, brushing shoulders with Chaos's furry flanks.

The wolf glances at him, purple eyes flashing mysteriously. "Use your brain, Sorenson. That was a sad song."

"Yeah." Seth nods, blush coloring his cheeks, the redness equaling the amount of childish curiosity bubbling inside of him. "Do you know why Cassandra would be singing sad songs?"

Chaos is silent for a moment, apparently thinking hard. "It could be because she's sad," he considers thoughtfully.

Classic Chaos. Seth elbows the wolf, rolling his eyes and smiling. "No, you dimwit, I mean do you know why she's sad?"

"Yes." Chaos takes a deep breath. "I do. And it's not exactly the most pleasant of tales, one I don't particularly enjoy telling it, but I suppose I must if you two are to reach superior OTPness."

"You're just making up words now," Seth complains, rolling his eyes.

"I am not," huffs Chaos indignantly. Then, dropping his voice into a whisper, he urges, "Faster, so the unicorn and the fairykind will be far enough behind us." In accordance to his words, he speeds up, pedaling quicker to leave the two creatures of light in the dust.

Seth jogs alongside Chaos's long strides. His legs moving in unison is an odd sight, with their striped pattern. Walking together in silence for a few minutes until they are what Chaos dubs safely ahead of Kendra and Bracken, the wolf finally begins to speak.

"Such a strange thing, love," he says slowly, voice thick with mystery. "Cassandra knows it better than any. She's the one that perches in the trees and watches others fall for one another, you know. She knows when they're in love before even they do. She practically lives in the Library nowadays, studying Cadeliah's books and soaking up the knowledge. But… as much as she understands others, as much as she laughs and plays, that girl's always been an outcast."

"Explain," demands Seth.

"She's a wallflower," informs Chaos. He looks up to the sky with a deep sigh. "The girl… she's afraid to live in the past, but unwilling to enter the future. So she's always caught at the present, never looking ahead or thinking back. And it hurts her, because she makes the same mistakes over and over again. Have you ever seen anyone other than the few wolves of Caelum Amplexu ever mention Cassandra? Ever seen anyone point to her and proudly call her name?" Chaos shakes his head. "She's insecure, and Lacero didn't help."

"Lacero?" questions Seth, the exotic name odd on his tongue. His eyebrows scrunch together.

"Lacero," agrees Chaos with a crisp nod. "Weird name, I know. But he was an angel; he liked her wings and such. Angels have three pairs of wings, just so you know, in case you should ever happen upon one. A pair at the neck" – Chaos sends a shiver through his mane – "a pair at the back" – Chaos shudders along his spine – "and a pair at the – erm, anyway…" Chaos clears his throat, but Seth still sees the imperceptible shaking of the wolf's rear end.

"What about Lacero?" wonders Seth. His voice is flat, sensing that something horrible is about to come from Chaos's mouth. Either an evil ex, or an abuser, or… something.

"Lacero was legit at first." Chaos's voice is carefully constructing his sentences, watching Seth in the corners of his eyes. "He was charming and gentlemanly to Cassandra. He treated her like a person, not just as a quirky owl librarian. He had wings. He taught her things that not even Alec knew, although the two always resented one another. Cassandra believed she'd found the one." Chaos's voice sours. "Zia had Alec, and Cassandra had Lacero. True love."

"And?" prompts Seth suspiciously.

Chaos sighs, looking away. "Things did get serious. Rings were busted out. Wedding rings. That serious. But angels… angels aren't little halo things like you think of them today. They're warriors. Warriors to a fault. And settling down to have little Cassandras and Laceros… that wouldn't help his race in the slightest. So – three days before the wedding – Lacero breaks it off in the worst way possible."

"And how is this?" growls Seth.

Chaos sighs. He meets Seth's eyes with a rock-steady glare. "He announced that he was the father of another angel's children."

So sad. Cassandra gets more and more character development as we go along. And I've got to say, I'm liking where her backstory is headed. What about you.

By the way, I don't own the Lonely, and neither does Cassandra. I do own Cassandra though.

POLL: This cycle thing is a recurring theme. We've had the Soul Bearer cycle, the day and night cycle… but what about Muefis? Where does he fit in? And why isn't he here any longer?

Ciao,

~wolfluvermh