Diaval flapped his wings as hard as they would go, ignoring his pain and exhaustion. He soared through the sky, but his thoughts remained in that meadow, with Maleficent and the sorceress. Gods, Diaval hadn't even caught the child's name. She was a remarkable girl, but she was very mysterious, which made Diaval a little nervous. But he still had her necklace swinging in his talons, and they both knew the girl couldn't try anything without Diaval coming after her.

The air grew cold and thin, snowflakes dancing in the wind. Diaval wondered why a fire-loving flower would grow in such a climate. The sorceress said it was so the flowers could be closer to the sun, but it was so cold. But Diaval was nearing the peak of the mountain. Despite the circumstances, he felt a little rush of excitement - he had never been so high before. Diaval didn't have time to enjoy his achievement, though. He set straight to work looking for the flowers the sorceress had described.

Before long, Diaval became ridiculously cold. He wondered how the flowers could be growing in all that snow he saw below him. Perhaps they were buried under the snow. That would be horrible - how would he be able to locate the flowers then? It would take a long time, but certainly Diaval would succeed. He would not leave this mountain without the help for Maleficent.

If Diaval had blinked, maybe he would have missed the flash of color below him. Hope warmed his chest as he circled around in the air, lowering himself to the ground. An orange bud peeked out of the snow. Now that he was closer, Diaval could see several other flowers nearby, a white dusting of snow helping them to blend in. It was astonishing how they could survive the cold. It was probably a part of their magic.

Diaval dipped down and transformed into a man. His boots sank into the snow, the sorceress' necklace dropping next to his feet. He fell to his knees next to the Healing Azar and began to paw at the snow around its stem.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Startled, Diaval looked up. A young woman was walking through the whirling snow, her long red hair flowing behind her. Worry grabbed Diaval's heart and squeezed it as he asked, "Do what?"

"You may not take the flower," the woman said as she stopped before Diaval. He noticed she had an unfamiliar accent. He stood up to meet her.

"Who are you?"

"I am their guardian," the woman said, gesturing to the flowers. Now that she was in front of him, Diaval realized her hair was more of a red-orange, almost the color of Healing Azar. Her eyes were sharp blue, like shards of ice. But they weren't cold. They expressed loneliness. "And you are?"

"I am Diaval of the Moors," he said, giving a small bow. "I didn't know the flowers were guarded."

"I protect them from the humans," the Guardian said.

"'Protect?'"

"These flowers are desired by the humans. They pick them - not for their healing abilities, but because they believe the flowers will bring them luck in battle. I cannot let foolish men waste the precious lives of these flowers. They are all I have left - they are my legacy." The Guardian looked at Diaval, cocking her head slightly. "But you aren't a man, are you?"

"I am a raven, turned shape-shifter by my mistress," Diaval said. "She turned me into a man to save me, and in return for my life, I became her servant. I s-served her for many years before she released me. But I stay by her s-side as her c-companion." Diaval was irritated that his teeth had started chattering. He didn't want to show any weakness in front of this woman, not when he hoped to persuade her into giving up a few of her flowers. "She recently t-tried a spell she thou-thought would send her back in time, but i-it only m-made her younger. Sh-she tried the spell again today, t-trying to reverse its effects, but i-it didn't work. She f-feel ill, and I was t-told that H-Healing Azar flowers in a p-p-potion would h-help her."

The Guardian observed him for a moment, and Diaval tried to stop shivering. Then she flicked her fingers, and a little circle of flames erupted around the flower. Diaval jumped back, shocked. She smiled. "Don't worry, Diaval, I won't hurt you. Just stay warm, and could you tell me more about your mistress? What is her name?"

"Th-thank you," Diaval said, gratefully stepping back to the fire. It instantly warmed him. "My mistress' name is Maleficent. She is a very powerful faerie, and one of the best people I know, despite her flaws. When I was just a bird, I was captured by farmers. They would have beaten me to death if Maleficent hadn't interfered and turned me into a man. I became her servant, but she called me her wings. Her own wings had been stolen by a man she had once thought herself to be in love with."

Diaval continued to tell Maleficent's story. The Guardian nodded and asked a few questions, but was otherwise quiet, drinking in the information. When Diaval finished talking, she stared into the perfect ring of flowers crackling around the Healing Azar. Diaval took her silence as an opportunity to decide his opinion of her. She seemed nice, but he currently felt a little wary to magical creatures who avoided telling their names. He wasn't sure if she would let Diaval take the flowers for Maleficent. Diaval wouldn't let himself think of what could happen to the faerie if the Guardian sent him home empty-handed.

"Well," the Guardian said after a minute, "Maleficent sounds like she's a very important person to you."

Diaval nodded. "Of course. She and Aurora are just about my entire world. I don't know what I would do if they were to - to leave me." Diaval shivered again, but not from the cold.

The Guardian gave a small smile. "I can see why. Its nice to know such kind people, isn't it? To love them with your entire being?"

"Yes," said Diaval. "Have you ever, well, do you ever leave this mountain?"

"No," the Guardian said, shaking her head. "I never have visitors, either, excluding those who come to take flowers." Diaval felt a little uncomfortable, and rubbed the back of his head. "I can't leave the flowers. It is my duty to protect them, and it is all I can do."

"You've never been off this mountain?" asked Diaval, amazed and shocked.

"I have. Long ago, I lived in a country far away. I had a family, friends, a lover. A different purpose. But then there was war, and my sister sent me here," the Guardian said sadly, gazing in the distance with glazed eyes as she remembered what must have been much happier times.

"To protect you?"

"Not exactly. But I believe we have different matters to discuss, Diaval," the Guardian said, looking back at him.

Slightly disappointed - he really did want to know more about this woman before him - Diaval nodded and said, "Yes."

"I will let you take the flowers you need," said the Guardian. "But take five, and plant one in the Moors. Healing Azar will thrive there."

"But I thought Healing Azar only grew on mountains," said Diaval, puzzled.

"No, Healing Azar lives most anywhere. But they were banished with me to this mountain," said the Guardian, sighing.

"Is there any other favors I can do for you?"

"That will be all. It will feel good to have one of these flowers, a little part of me, free of this cold mountain."

An idea struck Diaval. "What if we could move all the flowers to the Moors? You said you're supposed to watch over them. Couldn't you guard them somewhere else?"

The Guardian looked touched. "Thank you. It means a lot that someone would like me near. But the world is not ready for me."

"What does that mean?"

"I would explain, but you must hurry back to Maleficent," the Guardian said. She stretched her hand over the flames surrounding the flower. They jumped as several other rings appeared behind the woman. Diaval watched as the flames ate through the snow - he hadn't noticed before that the heat didn't melt the snow, not until the Guardian seemed to want it to. She was obviously very powerful if she had such control over the elements.

In a minute, five orange flowers sat in small circles of dirt. The flower between Diaval and the guardian pulled itself out of the ground, its roots tangling with each other. Four other flowers mimicked its actions, and floated over to the Guardian. She caught them and handed them to Diaval.

"Thank you," Diaval said, bowing again. "I cannot express how grateful I am." He reached down and picked up the necklace the sorceress had given him. "I want you to have this, so when the world is ready for you, you can find me."

"Is this the necklace the sorceress gave you?" the Guardian said, her voice breathy. "You can't give this to me, you must keep it, so you can find her if anything goes wrong."

"I don't think it will," Diaval said, suddenly sure what he was saying was true. "Its the least I can do."

"Thank you, Diaval," the Guardian said, closing her fingers around the necklace. She stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Now go. Maleficent needs you."

"Thank you," Diaval said again. He transformed, the flowers in his talons.

He had just taken to the air when the guardian called. "Diaval?"

Diaval cawed and swooped around her. "Diaval, I just want to say - don't let - don't let anything come between you and Maleficent," the Guardian said, suddenly stumbling over her words. "What you two have - your love may not be romantic, but you're family, and you - don't let anyone or anything tear you apart. Never."

It was hard to tell, but Diaval thought the Guardian had started to cry. He wondered what she had lost, why she was alone on the mountain with only a few flowers and many stories to tell. He decided one day he would come back and then he would listen to what else she had to say. But for now, Diaval only cawed back to her, letting the Guardian know he understood her words and would obey them. Then he flew back home.

...

Hey Malefifreaks! Short chapter, but I gotta go to dance.

Please tell me me what you think! Constructive criticism and random jokes welcome.

Thanks for reading!

Kitty