I like this chapter. Why? Because it's short. Ha! It's also pretty angsty, especially at the end. Why? It's 3:00am, I'm supposed to be in bed, but I write best at night, because that's when I get dramatic. So there. Enjoy.

By the way, I don't take French, I take Japanese, so I'm probably just as wrong on the French or whatever as Cameron is. argh.

"…And so, we apply heat. Note the color changes and be cautious of the sparks, so be sure to have your goggles on, and…and it appears I've lost Mr. Madison."

The students all swiveled in their stools to gaze at the thin teen, sitting by himself at the far end of the room. His head buried in his arms, he had apparently dozed off during the instructions. There were a few giggles and much rolling of eyes as he made no move.

"Madison," the teacher repeated as he walked over to Rheas slowly.

"I am awake Mr. Trent, I heard you. Apply heat, check goggles, watch colors. Fascinating." Rheas said wearily from the folds of his sweatshirt, not lifting his head or opening his eyes.

"That's good Madison, but I'd appreciate it if you would sit up and listen."

"Why? I can hear you just as well like this."

"Humor me," Trent said patiently, "and you're supposed to be writing this down…"

Still without sitting up, Rheas reached out and snagged a piece of paper sitting by him, covered in writing. The full set of instructions written down. "I've done this experiment at home sir."

"Sit up Madison, I won't argue anymore."

"Who's arguing?"

"Either sit up and be quiet, or leave. I have no patience left to debate pointless squabbles with you today."

"I thought you liked it."

"Get out Madison."

"If you insist." Rheas sat up slowly, uncoiling like a snake that has eaten its fill, and slid off the stool. He grabbed his bag and calmly walked out of the classroom. He really hadn't planned to get kicked out of class again so soon, but it worked quite well for him. He immediately climbed up to the third story to the library. Avoiding the librarians, he ducked to the far end of the room where he pulled out the books he needed without hesitation.

He sat at an empty table and began searching through the pages, his eyes shining with an interest very few of his classes had ever given him. He found what he needed. A sly grin graced his lips but a moment, and then he reached into his pack and yanked free a piece of paper that he had scribbled the strange chanting from the dream upon.

Laying the paper flat before him, he set to work.

"A light…salvation…death for many…" he muttered to himself as he sat in the grass behind the school, staring up into the trees, "A lousy riddle. A deceiving hope…so simple, yet it's so broad it becomes difficult." Dropping back, he lay there, staring up into the sky.

Rheas thought back to the "dream" often. Not a true dream, he could remember it clearly, as though it had really happened. "It did…" he sighed bitterly.

"A false hope…there are many 'false hopes' in the world. This clears up nothing. No, I'm wrong," he mused, rolling onto his stomach, "'salvation for some, death for many…it's not false, but unwanted or even…selective. Intriguing."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, having barely even half a nights sleep. Another bit of proof that it had been no dream. He shut his eyes, pondering, but his mind wandered elsewhere.

When he had fallen, he recalled the pain of something being torn away from him, a darkness lifted, and he had become himself again. Then the shade had come, questioning him once again with riddles he could not hear. Tearing away, the golden eyed one…

It made sense.

And it was frightening.

"Do you ever go to class?" Crysta sighed, plopping down next to him.

He hadn't heard her coming, and was startled by her question. Regaining himself quickly, a smiled darkly, "Most of my teachers tell me not to even bother anymore."

She smiled at him. It was one of her sweet smiles, saved only for the occasional football player pretty-boys she had happened to fancy from time to time. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Are you all right? You seem kinda pale, like you saw a ghost or something."

"Perhaps I have," he said solemnly. He fingered his necklace as he whispering almost inaudibly, "Perhaps I always have…"

"So, in the end, I had to call the whole thing off. I'm still a little pissed about it but hey, 'sail a bee'."

Sam stared at his friend a moment, his eyes wide and mouth twisted slightly. "You mean, c`est la vie?"

"Whatever, I'm not the one taking French…" Cameron sighed irritably as the two walked down the steps toward their cars. They held back out of habit until most of the after school traffic had gone. "Where is Thomas anyway?"

"He stayed home sick. High fever."

"No kiddin'. I told him he was looking bad, but no, don't listen to Cameron…"

"Because, dear brother, last time we listened to you we all got lost while trick-or-treating. By the time we got home it was late, parents were worried, we were wet, and you had eaten all my candy." Rheas aid casually, leaning against a tree.

"I said I was sorry." Cameron sighed as the two strolled past his brother.

"And gave me your half-eaten snickers bar too." Rheas replied shortly, rolling his eyes.

"Well no one wants to give candy to a little storybook villain anyway."

"I am not a villain." Rheas stated firmly.

"I remember that year," Sam half-smiled, "we did some Robin Hood theme, remember? You were Little John, Cameron, and Rheas was…was…"

"Will Scarlet," the younger boy sighed gently, then looking at his brother bitterly, "hardly a villain, wouldn't you say?"

"Rheas, you're starting to get on my nerves." Cameron said lightly, lined with warning.

"Well you've been on mine my whole life. What's your point?"

"Okay Rheas, time to go," Cameron said cheerily, cracking his knuckles.

"What are you doing!?" Rheas snarled as his brother lifted him from under the arms.

"Fly Rheasy, fly…!"

"Don't you dare!"

"Cameron, perhaps you shouldn't…" Sam began.

"Whoosh! There he goes!" With that, Cameron tossed his brother away as easily as one throws out the trash.

"Aah!" Crash! "I'll get you Cameron! I'll poison you next chance I get! I'll…!"

Ignoring the muffled cry from the bushes, Cameron turned and walked towards his truck merrily, humming to himself. "That felt good."

"That was uncalled for." Sam said harshly as they neared the beaten up truck.

"Please. You've been wanting to do that yourself for some time now."

"Wanting and doing are separate things."

"Oh you enjoyed it and you know it!"

"That's not the point! The point is…"

Cameron sighed, still smiling, "He won't forget it. He'll get back at me in one way or another, and I'll beat him up for it. Then he'll get revenge by doing some other unthinkable prank and the cycle will continue. It's what brothers do."

"I wouldn't know, and so I'll consider myself lucky."

"You do that."

Back at the trees, Toby came bounding around the corner with the bike. "Here it is! Sorry I took so long, but I couldn't find the key and I had to pick the lock, which wouldn't have taken so long but the thing was so bent outta shape it was absurd and…"

Reaching the grass, he paused and looked around. "Rheas? Where'd you go? Don't tell me you decided to run home!"

"I'm over here you moron!" a scratched up hand reached out from the greenery, "Help me out of here!"

"Gee Rheas, what are you doing playing in the blackberry bushes? Isn't that painful?"

"Very!" the freshman snarled as he struggled to move through the thorns with minimal damage to no avail. Toby took his hand and began to pull.

"This is a prickly situation…no pun intended." Toby exclaimed as his companion began to emerge inch by painful inch.

"I'm sure." Rheas grumbled. "Here now, I'm caught on something, my hood is…ow ow! I said stop troglodyte! My hair's caught and is…ah…aah…!"

"Well goodness, next time if you want to play in the prickers don't jump in so deep!" scolded Toby as he released Rheas' hand.

"Shut up and get a big stick!"

Cameron had spent the hour in town, lounging with Sam for a few moments before finally taking the back roads home to avoid traffic. Rheas had beaten him home by the time he got there, and was standing in the yard, gazing up at a tree.

He turned his head and glared at his brother fiercely. His face was scratched and his clothing torn, even his hair, having been yanked and pulled, was sticking out in odd angles. "You tore my sweatshirt." he said slowly, each word a new sentence.

"Good, maybe you'll finally get rid of it. You've been wearing it since third grade and it still doesn't fit…but of course you won't."

Rheas' face was blank, expressionless as he turned back to the tree. Cameron leaned over his shoulder, trying to see what Rheas found so fascinating about the cedar, but he saw nothing.

"What are you looking at?"

"Don't you find it odd…?" he replied softly.

"What?" Cameron inquired, confused.

"You don't see anything wrong, do you?" Rheas sighed heavily, gesturing to the cedar.

"Wrong? No, I see a good, healthy tree…"

"Precisely! This tree had been dying not even a month ago! But look, all it's branches are full and healthy again, as though they healed…This tree isn't the only one."

Cameron shrugged. "This is bad?"

Rheas continued, ignoring his brother, "My garden is better than ever, the flowers are blooming brighter than I can remember…yet people are getting sick…are dying…"

Turning, Cameron strode back into the empty house. "I don't know what you're babbling about this time Rheas…"

Rheas stared at the tree. He hadn't heard his brother, or anything. The only thing he could hear was the voice that was neither man nor woman.

Salvation for some, Death for many…

"Man, am I ever thirsty…" Cameron announced as he strode into the kitchen to no one in particular.

Rheas rolled his eyes. Why the announcement? Except for himself, there was no one within the large house to hear him. Did he enjoy the sound of his own voice that much, or was it a comfort against the loneliness? He sighed from his seat on the counter.

"There is some lemonade right there, freshly made."

"Oh good," Cameron smiled. He poured himself a glass, and then paused. He glared at Rheas with suspicion. "Did you piss in this or something?"

"No Cameron, I never do the same prank twice, remember?"

"Right," Cameron nodded, relieved. He was about to take a sip and then suddenly glared at Rheas accusingly. "Or would you…?"

Rheas' eyes widened in calm surprise. "My, he shows sudden intelligence! There may be hope yet for you, my brother."

"Thanks." the elder brother snapped sarcastically.

"Drink Cameron, you know I am well beyond such simple things as urinating in your drinks. The thought of doing so now is degrading."

He hesitated, but then took a sip. It tasted normal, and Rheas' eyes didn't light up like they did when he blundered into another one of his traps. He shrugged and finished the glass.

"You look tired, Cameron. Exhausted from last night's endeavor, I believe?" Rheas began conversationally.

"I didn't do anything last night!" Cameron shouted suddenly, rising to his feet.

"I meant your so-called dream! I know you didn't leave the house!"

"Oh…" Cameron stated, dumbfounded, "Then what did…how did you know about my dream?"

"Because it wasn't a dream and you know it!" Rheas sighed suddenly, then said softly, "You're not an idiot."

"Is this some weird buildup to your revenge? It's not pulling so well."

"Shut up and listen! I know of your dream because I was in it, remember? I saw what you saw. Ask any of the others and they will tell you they dreamt of it as well."

"What the hell are you saying…?" Cameron whispered, gazing at Rheas with troubled eyes.

"I'm saying it was real. What happened was real, and that voice…"

"You've fuckin' lost it…you finally lost it…"

"I am thinking clearly!" Rheas snarled, hopping off the counter. He shook his head sadly and gazed out the window. "The chanting…you remember that? Well, it was Gothic all right, but not as much Latin as I thought. It made no sense because the words themselves were accented and twisted. If I rewrote a few things it was possible to roughly translate it. I'm not too sure what to make of it."

"And you came up with?" Cameron sighed heavily, crossing his arms. Fine, he had been one of the only elder brothers he knew that had no memories of playing games with his little brother. No action figures, no teasing girls, no pirates or cops and robbers. The closest he had ever got was when they were little and still had stories read to them at night.

After finishing a book, Rheas had begun commenting on what reasoning the hero had slain the villain on.

"Because," their father laughed, stroking Rheas' hair behind his ear gently, "he was enslaving people, so the hero fought for their freedom."

"Then the people should fight for themselves. He lost his own freedom because he was tied down to his hero's code, and ended the bad-guy's freedom when he said he couldn't do what he was doing anymore."

"He chose to follow his code, and the bad-guy was doing wrong."

Rheas thought a minute, thinking his argument over in his young mind. "What is the wrong? If the people can't fight for themselves, why fight for them at all? Perhaps they needed to be told what to do."

At that time Kate, having grown bored with the whole thing, had asked Rheas innocently if he was ever going to enslave people. Cameron had jumped in on the fun immediately, and they spent the next ten minutes chasing Rheas around the house with plastic swords claiming he was evil and had to be vanquished. The game had finally ended when Rheas fell, exhausted and crying, and their mother had chased the elder siblings off.

Sure, Cameron thought, he'd play this game with Rheas.

Rheas paused a moment, letting the words flow through his mind until he had them properly, then said:

In fourth moon and water song
Reveal the path for thee
Of our earth and heaven as well
Can the eyes be opened
And the darkness denied.

He laughed suddenly, like nails over a chalkboard, high and grating. "Foolish, I can make no sense of it."

"That was very nice Rheas," Cameron smiled, pouring another cup of lemonade, "but I can't play anymore right now, you'll have to…"

"It was real!" Rheas snarled. He turned to his brother, gazing into his eyes with his own, burning deeply until Cameron had to turn away or be burned within the fire of his mind. Rheas wrapped his arms around himself, as though cold, and began softly, "This morning, I looked into the mirror, but I did not see myself. I saw a darkness deeper than any shadows I have known…"

"What is with you…"

"It had shape, and eyes…The Golden Eyed One is…"

"Rheas, don't…" Cameron growled.

"He had form! A fucking form! He's gained in power, I don't know how…but I saw him…for the first time, his face…"

"Quit it…" Cameron snarled rising from his seat and advancing on his brother slowly.

"His face is the face you saw in your dream! My face! His face is my face--!"

"Stop it!" he shouted, striking his brother across the face and sending him sprawling. Rheas caught hold of the counter and leaned on it, his world spinning.

"Do you want to get locked away!? Is that what you want!?" Cameron cried, gripping Rheas by the shoulders tightly. "That's just what'll happen! God, you know what'll happen to you if you end up there, you've seen it! They'll break you, damnit! They'll break you and you will be gone, I'll have a vegetable for a brother! God," he pulled him close, enveloping him in his strong arms, "I don't want that. I don't want that for you."

Rheas stood still, stiff as a board in his brother's arms. He didn't hear anything. He didn't feel the sting of the red mark that was growing on his face, the trickle of blood from his lips.

"I'm sorry. God I'm sorry…"

He heard none of this, he didn't feel his brother's tears on his neck, nor see his hands as he gently wiped away the blood. He stood still as death waiting in a town newly afflicted with the plague.

The only thing he could hear was the sound of laughter, his own laughter, echoing far away.

I'm glad no one is around when I type these things, I must look pretty stupid. To make sure the dialogue sounds right, I recite it to myself. So I'm up, pacing around, mouthing out lines and waving my arms around. Above was pretty funny, I shout silently, I slap air, and then I fall over. It's fun.
Okay, goodnight everyone, I'm going to bed!