Dark-birdie: I have to work more on my fics… -- but..my finals at school are right now, so I MUST STUDY…

Butterfly-

Chapter Four

Reema rushed from here to there, picking up various types of phones and shuffling through a pile of post-its and forms. Her long, pink and black hair swayed this way and that as she attempted to pick up three phones at once while writing a memo with the pen in her mouth.

"Hey…little onii-chan…" said a voice from behind her, sounding bored.

"Yes, yes, WHAT?" she asked, spitting out the pen and hanging up one of the phones. "I'm very sorry Lan, but with the war in Deresius going on right now, I've got so many deaths to attend to!"

Rath stared at the parchment that had appeared in front of him in a whiff of black smoke. The color matched him greatly, seeing as he was dressed in an outfit of complete black, with the exception of his inner shirt covered by a black cloak. He responded to the name given to him; Lan, because that is what his name was. That's what the society told him, at least. Know one knew what their real name was, they weren't supposed to know. He scanned the paper unemotionally. "I have another assignment," he mumbled, getting up from his seat. "Are you going to come with me?"

Reema huffed and stared up at the new death god, being a long ways shorter than him but oddly a deal older, "I'm very busy with my own deaths! I'll join you later since you're still a beginner, but for now, go on your own."

His features didn't flinch, "But onii-chan, the paper-"

"Lan! I'm sorry, just go, okay? You're not doing too well with the assignments, so just try not to screw things up, okay? Now, GO!"

"But-"

Reema twirled her fingers, and the boy disappeared from her sight in a puff of dark, ebony smoke.

Rath sighed as he was transported to a different location. "But onii-chan, there's no name on it, just the location…" He unfolded the parchment in his hands and read it once again:

From: Chief Advisor of New Shinigamis-in-training Counsel, Duma Rasael To: Shinigami #13 Lan

Assignment: Upcoming death. Dragon Castle- located in the capital of Dusis, sometime during the next week.

Ps: PLEASE DON'T SCREW THIS ONE UP RATH! I'M STILL TRYING TO FIX UP THE LAST ONE! Oh dear god, you should see this mess I have to clean up. I can't believe you mistook the client for another person! PLEASE DON'T SCREW THIS UP, OKAY! –Duma

"I didn't mean to screw it up…" said Rath monotonously. "The man wanted to die, why not let him?" He read the location aloud, "Dragon Castle, huh? Wonder who."

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Cesia hummed to herself quietly. The Dragon Lord knew she was still studying the works of the macabre, but didn't have any proof whatsoever, so kept silent. Alfeegi, Ruwalk, and the other inhabitants of the Dragon Castle could see something was wrong, though, but had no clue why.

'All I have to do is wait for the next full moon, and the preparations will be set…' thought Cesia to herself; flipping through the pages of her book just to make sure she had all the necessary materials. 'I'll make this work even if it kills me…'

She had no idea how much truth that sentence held.

The next full moon would be sometime next week.

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Kai-Stern sighed as he looked down at the cold grave. After the boy's death he had purposely made himself go on a "Governmental trip" for a few days, wanting to avoid the castle, but had now come back. He lit the end of a cigarette and brought it to his lips, inhaled, then exhaled a whisp of smoke. "For Dusis' sake, ol' pal. It's nothing without you here…" he mumbled, sighing again. "I hope you know we miss you."

Rath stared down at the white-haired man, clueless of his past life. "Miss who? Who does this person miss?" he asked to absolutely no one. He was getting quite used to talking to himself nowadays, what with only Reema and occasionally Duma to talk to in the office. The human world made him wonder about many things, especially their constant change in emotions. He, being so unemotional, just didn't get the point of feelings. As for whom the stranger missed, he wouldn't know. He didn't both looking at the gravestone because either way, he couldn't read. So he satisfied himself by just staring at the man while floating upside down in the air, using his jet black, small, feathery wings to stay afloat.

"Rath…"

The death god crashed onto the ground, his wings had suddenly stopped working. His heart was pounding unceasingly and his head equally so. "Ow, what the hell?" he mumbled crossly, getting up from the ground. "For chris'sake," he muttered, crossing his arms. This assignment wasn't going too well.

He decided to wander around the Dragon Castle a bit, to see if there was any clue as to who this death belonged to. His wanderings brought him to an open window, leading to a rather dark and dreary room. It was empty, lifeless, and very…black.

"What's wrong with this room?" mumbled Rath to himself, looking around. It was so very dead, maybe even more so than himself, which was ironic. He twitched slightly as the room began to grow on his nerves. Something about it made shivers go down his spine. "I'm getting out of here," he said, preparing to leave via window again.

But, before he could do so, he heard the door behind him being opened. On pure instinct, he flew behind the windowsill and peered over it, to see who was coming in without being seen himself, which made obviously no sense to him, seeing as no one could see him, but he did so anyways.

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Cesia walked un-noticed into the room. She closed the door gently behind her and looked around, making sure it was completely empty. Then, using her finger to cut a hole in the air, the half-demon took out everything she would need; her Book of the Macabre, the vile which contained the ashes of her deceased beloved, and a few other little supplies. "No one would ever come here," she said to herself, placing her materials on the floor, "This is the best place to work in…"

As an extra safety precaution, she placed a sealing spell on the door and cloaked it with a memory spell, causing whoever to come near the room to suddenly remember something important and run off. (sorry, had to steal a bit of Harry Potter there)

She picked up the book and laid out a long and wide roll of parchment, about the size of the bed. Taking four needles, she pinned the corners of the parchment to the floor. She grabbed a pointed paintbrush and dipped it into a thick block of black ink, and then she traced a large, round circle onto the browning paper.

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Rath flew curiously towards the parchment and the girl. What was she doing? He watched intently as she drew odd lines and curves on the circle. The girl gave a nod of approval as she stood back to examine her work, and then took the vile from the floor. She twisted the knob off and spelt the whitened ashes right into the center of the circle. He sat on the floor, watching as she picked up the book once again and started reciting strange words.

The words seemed to linger in the room. They gave him chills, though he wasn't supposed to be able to feel cold, and the room grew dark.

"Caelestis Mortis

Exaudio meus placitum

Recro ea corpus denuo

Tunc tribuo spiritus

Rursus, inquam voluntas tribuo…"

She finished her words, looking brightly around at the darkening room. She was awfully happy for a girl in the middle of oncoming thick, black mist.

The mist lingered and began to swirl, casting its waves into every corner of the room. The room itself now looked as if it were repainted horribly. Everything was black or white. Outlines of the bed and bureau were sketched as if from a white pencil. Even the girl, though human, looked like a white drawing on a black canvas.

Rath watched as the scene became frozen. Nothing moved except him and the black smoke. He tried to shout as the misty tentacles wrapped themselves around him, enveloping him in darkness, but no sound came. The smoke entered his eyes a mouth and in the split second of darkness, the most horrible sounds engulfed his hearing.

Then, the noise stopped, and he was free. No more smoke, mist, or black-and-white sketchiness. Although, for some odd reason, he had been moved from next to the girl, to the center of the circle drawn on the parchment.

Another addition to this obvious realization was that the girl, whom he had been watching, was now looking straight at him. Rath looked behind him, to see if anyone or anything of particular interest was there, but after spotting nothing, he looked back at the girl, who continued to look back at him.

"What?" he finally asked, deducing that the object she was staring at was himself.

"You…you are…" She began to shake as she brought her hands up to her face, trying desperately to explain to herself why she felt a sudden chill. There was something important to say, she knew it. What was it? What was important?

Nothing.

"…who are you?"

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dark-birdie: gee, I'm really sorry folks that that took so dang loooooooooong…. "-- don't blame me, blame my hell days. My hell days consist of: 1. wake up at six, walk to school early for band 2. school, duh. 3. after school, badminton practice 'til six (pm). 4. after badminton, walk home, make dinner, eat it. 5, go to taekwondo til 8:30. 6. go home, do homework, die/sleep

I am going to diiiiiiiiiiiiieeee one day