Abel dropped back from the others. Pain stabbed deep into his heart. Move on from Lilith? He clung to her cross, feeling the sharp edges digging into the flesh of his palm. He could hear the others talking, arguing over him. Abel closed his eyes.

This wasn't what he had pictured. He had never thought he would see any of them again. That day, the day Mirka was to have her funeral to draw out the traitors in the empire, Abel had said his final farewells to all of them. He had swum to the Island of Beloved Children. He had scaled the cliff and leapt the wall which blocked off where the founders were buried.

When he had returned to Asthe and the others, Abel had lied about falling into the ocean. It had actually been him purposefully swimming through it to finally say his goodbyes to his-his full family.

The lie had been told at the time because Abel knew Asthe would have pissed to learn he had trespassed on sacred grounds. Still, he had felt a sense of peace at saying goodbye to each of them. To finally light his candle and be permitted to remember all they had been in life. For him to light one candle for Lilith as well as their daughters who had never known life. To, at long last, mourn all of them as was tradition for the empire.

And, now – Abel looked at the others. He watched his closest friends, those he had once thought of as family, speaking together in low tones. He could hear what they were saying and felt only pain.

He wanted to react with joy at seeing them all before him, alive and well, once more. In the same instance, he wanted to weep. To run from all of this. He never wanted them to see him like this. He had never wanted them to be unhappy or do what they had done. All he had wanted for them, was to live out the rest of their lives in peace. Even one war was too many for a person to live through and all of them but his son had seen two.

"Talk to him," a calm voice sounded close to Abel.

"I don't know what to say, Uncle Solomon," Azul whispered back.

"You will find something." Solomon moved passed Abel to the others.

"Father," Azul started. "Can we talk?"

Abel glanced at Caterina.

"I'll be fine, Abel." She bowed her head to him. Exhaustion was clear on her features and he could almost hear her struggled breaths. "Go," she repeated.

Abel nodded and looked at William. The professor nodded, telling Abel without words he would call the moment something happened or if he was needed.

Abel dropped back with Azul. The stopped when they were out of earshot of the AX. "What did you want to talk about?" Abel asked. He looked at his son, heart flickering with a mixture of joy and unease.

"I managed to convince Aunt Seth to give me a few pictures of Charles before we left to find you," Azel started with a small, almost sad smile. "I, unfortunately, never met my grandchild and wanted to see his wife."

A stab of pain shot through Abel's heart. "You should've stayed, Azul."

"What's done is done, father. And I wasn't trying to depress either of us with this." He took out the pictures. There weren't many. "Besides, the only picture you ever got of Charles was when he was ten."

Abel felt himself smile. He pulled out his book and pulled out the pictures tucked away within the split of the cover.

"You still have it!" Azul's eyes light up when he saw the picture of himself, his wife, and son.

Abel passed him the picture. "Of course I still have the picture. It is the only one I ever had of Charles and Shirley," he named Azul's wife.

Azul's gaze softened as he looked at the image. He passed it back. "When Charles turned thirteen, he decided that he didn't like his name," Azul laughed a little.

Abel smiled. It sounded like what a teenager would do.

"He started to go by Chase."

"Chase." Abel felt his smile widen with warmth towards the grandson he'd never met.

"I told him it sounded like a dog's name," Azul laughed. "But he just ignored me and kept telling people to call him Chase." Azul held out a picture to Abel. "This is him with his wife and daughter."

Abel took the picture. Charles had always had his mother's blond hair and father's dark blue eyes. The image showed as him being no older than sixteen which must have been when he'd awoken. It also explained why the age had decreased for the family going into Mirka's and Ion's generations.

The woman seated before him in a chair, looked only a year or two older than him. Her hair was light brown and eyes an almost auburn color. A small girl, no older than three was seated on her mother's lap.

Abel felt his smile widen a little as he turned his gaze back to his grandson. "He looks so grown up here," he whispered.

"I can't believe it sometimes," Azul commented as he looked at his son, eyes soft. "Plus, now, I'm not only a grandfather, but a great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather."

"Yes, let's rub in the fact." Abel wrapped his arm around Azul's shoulders and drew his son into a hug.

Azul laughed. "Well, it's only one more great for you, father."

"Seven greats," Abel shook his head. "I suppose it's better than what it is on Aran's side." His heart stab with pain was the mention of his younger son.

"I suppose that's what happens when you have terran children." Azul sighed and looked at the girl. "I wish I could have met my granddaughter."

Abel squeezed his son's shoulder, sharing in the pain of never having met a grandchild. A pain Abel had hoped to never have to share with his son.

Azul gave a weak laugh. "To believe the current head of the family is my great-great-great-great granddaughter."

"You mean Mirka." Abel frowned and shook his head. He had never thought about it before now. It was too many greats. Five. His son only had four which really wasn't much better. Still, the overwhelming number felt as a heavy weight on Abel's shoulders.

Azul chuckled. "You look almost horrified at the news, father." He gave Abel's shoulder a friendly nudge. "Did you never think about how many of generations it has been since you raised Aran and I?"

"I was trying not to," Abel confessed.

Azul let out another laugh. This one full of energy and joy.

The group had drawn to a stop. "We're going to rest here for the night!" Baybars called back.

They were in another of the cities already. The space was spread out here as it would have been one of the farms. They were getting close to Byzantium, the capital of the empire. It wouldn't be much longer before they arrived there.

The yeniçeri set to work getting a small camp set up. Abel turned his gaze from the guards to Barack who was offering to help. This had earned the tall, young looking man looks of utter horror from the other yeniçeri.

Barack scowled and strode over to Abel. "You would think I suggested blowing up Byzantium with the way they're acting," he grumbled.

"To them, you most likely did," Azul commented.

Barack snorted and folded his arms across his chest. "I offered to help, not mess things up."

"G-grandmother!" Ion's protest made Abel look at the boy. He was tucked under Mirka's arm as she half carried, half dragged the boy towards them.

"That doesn't look comfortable," Barack commented. "Couldn't the boy have walked?" he asked the woman. She was dwarfed in size to Barack.

Mirka released Ion and placed her hands together, smiling at them. "Oh, this is just perfect. We finally have all living members of the family here together."

"What?" Azul asked with a frown. "Aunt Seth's still in the capitol," he pointed out.

"Hush, I wasn't meaning her majesty, rather the direct line." Her smile was soft, almost teasing as she looked at Azul. "Great-great-great-great Grandfather."

"W-what?" Ion stammered. His eyes grew wide as if it had just struck him Azul was his great-great grandfather. "That's right, you're-you're my great-great grandfather." He pointed at Azul.

Azul gave the boy a small smile. "I suppose I am, but that makes my father, your great-great-great- great-great grandfather, right, father?" Azul's smile turned a little playful as he looked at Abel.

Abel coughed.

"Well, this just made me feel old," Barack stated, "and I'm not related to the two of you." He looked at Ion and Mirka.

"Oh, nonsense, any ancestor of Baybars is as good as family. Besides," – her smile widened – "you were considered family by his majesty. Correct, Emperor Nightlord?" she purred the question.

Barack stiffened as if he had been hit by ice.

"Baybars," – Mirka gestured for the head yeniçeri to come over – "come here!"

The head of the yeniçeri moved over to her, almost cautiously. "Yes, Lady Mirka?" There was wary look in his dark eyes.

"I've been getting these ready for a long time in the hopes all of us would meet." From the bag Baybars held, Mirka started to pull out a few objects. She leapt, vanishing through the use of haste.

Abel felt a weight on his head and something latch the back of his belt. He saw Mirka dart around to the others. Black cat ears appeared on Barack's head followed by a black cat tail on his belt. Baybars' and Azul's mirrored the ones Barack wore. Ion sported a tan set. Abel reached up and felt the ears on his head as well.

Azul snickered. "Father, that looks," his voice was lost in his laughter.

"You have black ones on, Azul," Abel stated.

His son turned bright red. "W-what?" He lifted his hand and shouted in shock. "What the hell?!" he made to take the ears off but Mirka swatted his hand down.

"No you don't," she scolded him. "Not until after we have a family swords duel."

"You have to be joking." Azul looked almost horrified.

"I don't know, it looks good on your, Fortuna." Athina was fighting back laughter from where she was watching.

"So, why do I have the ears?" Barack asked.

"Don't question it," Baybars muttered to his ancestor. His features were almost crestfallen.

"I don't get it." Barack glanced at Abel.

"Now, my little, cute grandson here, really wanted to improve his swordplay." Mirka pulled Ion over, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "I thought, what better way than from the founder of the imperial style himself."

Abel felt a shiver race through him at the way she was smiling at him. "No," Abel stated.

"No!" Ion shouted at the same time Abel had declined.

Azul frowned. "Why not?" he pressed. "It would be good practice for all of us."

Before Abel could protest again, Azul moved off.

"Uncle Solomon!" Azul called as he approached the other man.

Solomon turned to Azul.

"I need to brow father's sword."

Solomon didn't even frown at this. He passed Azul "Only One."

"Thanks, Uncle." Azul grinned before he strode back to Abel. "Here!"

"Only One" was thrust into Abel's arms. Abel almost dropped the sword. "Azul," he started in stern tones. He tried to give the blade back to his son.

"No you don't, father." Azul's eyes sparkled as he darted away from Abel. "It's high time you kept your sword. Uncle shouldn't have to carry it everywhere and you're not used to my style of swordplay."

"Azul," Abel started to protest once more.

Ion looked horrified. "Grandmother, I—"

"It's an honor to train with the emperor," Baybars interrupted the count.

The boy opened his mouth to protest further. A look from his grandmother stopped whatever words he had to say in his throat.

"All right, father." Azul pushed Abel into the open space. "Go on and teach that," he hesitated, "kid, how to really sword fight."

"I-I," Abel stuttered, digging his feet into the ground. Abel was shoved harder into the open space when Barack joined in.

"No more mopping around!" the taller man growled. "You're going to fight with 'Only One.' No ifs, ands, ors, or buts!"

Abel staggered into place. His gaze fell to the sword Arthur had given him. A deep feeling of dread settled in him.

"View it as a way to get your anger out, sir," Baibars was telling Ion as he led the boy to stand across from Abel.

Well, that wasn't what Abel wanted to hear. Granted, the last time he had fought Ion, it had been far too easy. He would have to be very careful not to harm the boy.

"Fine," Ion snapped. He drew his sword. "Prepare to fight!" he snarled, fangs bared and eyes blazing with his rage.

Abel let out a low breath. He glanced at Azul who just looked back, eyes saying "move from there and I will recruit the others to get you back in the ring."

Abel latched the belt around his waist. His hand rested on the hilt of "Only One." A soft tingle passed through his fingers. His heart filled with dread and another emotion he hadn't thought he would feel: joy. It had been so long since he had dueled a methuselah without having to act as a human. He wasn't counting the last fight with Ion since that had been more real than this. This time, Abel smiled. His fingers tightened around the hilt. There was still the unease he felt; yet, there was a chance he could beat Ion without drawing a sword.

Ion charged. He leapt at Abel, aiming for his head.

Abel dodge. He side stepped the boy with easy.

Ion landed and twisted. His blow aimed for Abel's hip.

"Only One" slid a little from the sheath. Metal striking metal rang through the space.

"Take me seriously!" Ion snarled. Leapt into the air, his foot swung up for Abel's head.

Abel leaned back.

The boy's boot barely missed the tip of his nose.

Abel took hold of the boy's leg.

Ion let out a shock shout as he flung through the air. Ion flipped and landed almost catlike ten feet away. At least, Abel now understood why they were wearing the cat ears and tail.

Ion charged.

Abel dodged each blow this time. He only ever drew his sword partially from the sheath to block blows which back a little too close.

Ion collapsed, breathing hard. "Damnit," he gasped, one eye closed as he tried to catch his breath. "Fight back!" he shouted at Abel. "You're not take me seriously."

"Kid," Barack stated from the sidelines. "That is him taking you seriously. If his majesty drew his weapon during this fight with the way you're fighting, he would injury you."

Ion growled. He stood and used haste in his charge this time.

Abel sighed and leapt over the boy's attack. He flipped, twisted, and kicked Ion.

The boy face planted. Stone cracked under the force the speed up strike. The sweet scent of Methuselah blood tainted the air.

Ion straightened and wiped blood from his nose. The break had already healed.

"Kid, come here!" Azul called.

Ion grumbled and glared at Abel. He moved over to Azul. "Yes?" he asked, voice now polite.

"Listen, charging head first against my father never got anyone anywhere but to quick death. You need to think a lot more when you're attacking or all father will do is continue to dodge you. He won't even be forced to fully draw his weapon."

"Perhaps we should show the kid," Barack stated. "Care to tag team with me, Azul?"

Azul sighed. "Father's not fought with a sword in centuries," Azul started to protest. "Do you honestly think it will take two?"

"Yes," Barack and Alexander both stated in unison. Alexander stood. "If you don't want to do it, Squirt, I'll join Barack's assault on our noble leader."

"Do I get a say in this?" Abel asked. He didn't want to fight two of them.

"How about this, if we need two, Azul jumps in, then if we need three Alexander," Mirka started as she placed cat ears and tail onto Azul. "If it gets to four, Baybars joins. If five, then my cute grandson fights as well."

"What if he still needs more of a challenge?" Alexander asked with a grin. "And why do we have to wear these stupid—" He gasped eyes watering when Barack stuck him in the gut.

"Seriously?" Abel demanded. "How is five against one fair?"

"It's fair," Barack and Alexander spoke in unison.

Barack stepped into the space and drew his sword. Abel dodged his old friend. This time he was forced to draw "Only One" through to skill level difference between Barack and Ion. It was far more of a challenge, yet, he knew Barack could tell he was holding back greatly.

A black blur charged Abel from the side.

Abel leapt and only just missed being cut by his son. Azul and Barack worked as a near seemless team. Their swipes showing Barack had spent years training against Azul and knew the younger man's style well enough to try and make up where Azul lacked.

Abel danced around his son and friend.

Another blade hummed from Abel.

Alexander had tried to pincer Abel between the others and the ground.

Abel rolled back. Several strands of his silver hair floated to the ground. It was now three against one. Abel parried blow after blow. He didn't want to strike back. He didn't want to hurt any of them. He was very aware of the weight of "Only One," drawn, in his hands. He skidded back. His free hand rested on the hand and half hilt, sword held at the ready.

Click.

Abel leapt into the air. Baybars' blade whooshed through the air. Abel landed on the flat end of the sword before back flipping over the larger man. He landed and went straight to the ground to avoid another strike from Barack.

Abel rolled, leaping back to his feet. Metal clashed in a hail of sparks as he parried a blow from Alexander. He twisted and kicked Azul away from him. The kick light enough to just send his son stumbling back.

"Come on," Barack kept muttering each time he came in close to Abel.

"Fight," Alexander whispered a little.

Abel's eyes widened as he blocked another blow from his old friends. They weren't just dueling him. They wanted him to fight back like he used to. To toss them around as he had during those duels. To be the him they had followed.

Abel dodged another blow from behind.

He couldn't do that. He didn't want to fight. What was he even doing holding this blade again?

Abel's hand trembled on the hilt.

He moved back again and again.

This, it wasn't right.

"No you don't!" Barack shrieked.

Abel lifted "Only One." His arms shook as he parried Barack's powerful blow. The ground cracked under Abel from the impact.

"Don't you dare doubt, Abel!"

Barack pressed down harder.

"Fight!" he screamed.

Alexander charged from one side. His blade flashed. "With—"

"—us!" Azul moved in from the other side.

Abel could hear Baybars moving in behind.

Blood filled Abel's mouth as his fangs started to grow. He twisted. His sword fell into one of the curves of Barack's wicked blade. He used this as a lever. With massive heave, Abel filled Barack over him.

Crash! Barack landed hard on the other three. All of them fell to the ground in tangled heap.

Abel collapsed beside them, breathing hard. "Only One" and Barack's sword were still locked together. Neither blade able to break from how strongly they'd been crafted.

"What was that about?" Abel panted.

Barack rolled off the others, muttering an apology for having hit them.

"We were trying to knock sense into that thick head of yours," Alexander managed to say as he sat up. Blood trickled from where a wound had healed on his head.

"You've been mopping around a lot, father," Azul added as he straightened. He smiled. There was only a little signs of healed injury from where Barack had struck him.

"So you did a pincer move?" Abel laughed. "I think it failed a little there."

"Yeah, I didn't think you would fling Barack's heavy ass onto us!" snapped Alexander.

Whack!

"Ouch!" Alexander exclaimed as Barack struck him hard with the hilt of his sword.

Abel shook his head. He felt himself grinning. For the first time in centuries, his grin was wide and real. It almost hurt more than the sorrow and pain. Yet, seeing them again, facing off against them, even in cat wear, it felt right.

x – X – x

Seth looked out over Byzantium. She had arrived back in the city not long after the war had started in order to wake the others. Now, she was forced to remain there to lead her people while soldiers were left at the front. They were holding their own for now. What they really needed was something to tip the scales.

Her brother would know what to do. Or Solomon. They had been the main strategists during the Terran-Methuselah War. Seth let out a long breath. Even revealing her true identity as the youngest of the Nightlord siblings had done little to boost the hopes of her people.

"That was a rather heavy sigh, butterfly."

Seth straightened and grinned. "Thomas!" she turned to the man who now stood in the door leading back into Star Palace.

Thomas wore finery of an imperial noble despite the fact he would have been called "terran" by those nobles of the empire who saw. He only ever wore such clothes during his brief stays in the Star Palace. Only the five trusted families had ever even met Thomas and been aware of who he was.

His birth name was Thomas Hall, but a few months after Seth had taken her brother's place on the throne, she had given him their family name: Nightlord. He was after all her father. He had been the leading geneticist pre-Armageddon and the one who had made her, her brothers and Lilith Sahl. Not only this, but he had been the only one to ever show them kindness and had treated them as if they really were his children.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here, dad," Seth commented as she walked over to the tall man. She hugged him. "Are you here to help us?" She looked up into his features. Most of the time Thomas could look ragged, with his face unshaven and wavy hair almost a tangled mass. But not when he was the honored guest at the Star Palace. His wavy hair was brushed and worn down instead of in a halfhearted pony tail. Looking clean and well brushed before he had come to speak with her. His eyes were pale green and soft as he looked down at her.

"I have news from the outer."

"What?" Seth asked as she moved back to the railing with him.

"The pope is still alive."

Seth's eyes widened. "But the entire reason the war started was because the cardinal blamed our envoys for the death of the pope along with the AX."

"Yes, and if the truth came out he had killed Pope Alessandro, Francesco would lose support for the war and for becoming the next pope."

Seth frowned. "Is there any way we can use the pope being alive to our advantage?"

"I could infiltrate with Vatican in order to rescue the boy," Thomas stated. "I can wake one of my friends, but even then, I would need more than just her aid to make it out of the Vatican and back here."

Seth bowed her head. "What would we do once we have him? It could just as easily back fire on us."

"If Abel is bringing the head of the AX here, Cardinal Sforza, she will be able to aid us in turning the majority of the Vatican against Francesco."

"Then, do it." Seth looked at her dad. "But, please be careful, dad."

Thomas smiled at her. "Aren't I always, butterfly?"

Seth returned his smile. Her dad would never age or die thanks to the enhancements he had been born with. Still, she couldn't stand the thought of losing him.

Thomas placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'll return in a few months." He kissed her forehead; then, he was gone. It was as if he had never been there. His scent lingered in the air as the sign he had been.

"Please, come home quickly, brother, dad." Seth looked towards the Ark. Her heart heavy with the knowledge she had to remain here while her family and her children suffered.

(Author's Note: We needed a fun chapter.

Also, I think I am going to try the scheduled updates again. With school starting back up in just over a week and working part time, I need to schedule times to write if I am going to try to write at all. Hopefully I can keep to it this time, but this story is now planned for Thursdays.)