Two knocks thudded against the Sun room door. It'd been almost a decade since the bad news bearer step foot in that house. It was also around the same time, that Michael started to show his loyalty to his instincts. Something rarely seen in this day and age. I remembered my son's first kill, a rabbit he'd ambushed from the two story high roof. How I was amazed! He had the energy that his mother once shown, and the charisma of a true wolf. Instead of shunning his abilities, he embraced them, learned from them, and was not taught by anyone other than himself, how to control them. The prodigy son, who never noticed what his true potential was, was now being hunted by fate. And as the door to my sanctuary sounded the rasps of the stranger behind them, I couldn't help but think of his mother, the day before I left. She had no idea how much I loved her... I guess that's just the effect I have on people.

"Come in." I said politely. Though I knew the scent of the man at the door, I knew nothing of his origin. This man, this Derryl. He claimed to have lived a hundred times over, and with that claim, came experience. Thoughts of our first meeting, in the middle of a war, this man, this child, held his own, and fought with the ferocity of a wolf, even though the poison never mingled in his system. He was an untouchable force, and yet, he came here for help.

"Hello, Dane." The musician said, smiling through his grief, and setting his oak wood, acoustic guitar against the wall nearest my bookshelf. "It's been a while."

"Yes it has." I rose from my seat and as he came closer, I could see that he knew what was supposed to happen. Tears formed in his eyes, those green eyes that held the pain of the world, seemed on the edge of collapse. He hugged me greatly before he took a seat away from me.

"We've been through this before." I said, trying to calm him down. His eyes were red, redder than I'd ever seen them.

He chuckled, knowing what I was getting at. "It still doesn't make it easier. You and the other two were like brothers too me back in the day." I offered him a tissue, he refused, pulling out one of his own. That was my friend, the musician. Always prepared. Never one to forget a name, nor one to forget his place.

"So how long?" I asked, fear stifling itself at the base of my spine. I was never one to believe in fate before I met this man. He showed me things I couldn't explain in a million years. His planning was perfect when it came to action, and honestly, I'd love too see him in action one more time before I died.

"About a month."

"At least it isn't happening tomorrow." I muttered to myself. "I take it you talked to Michael. How's he and Paula's daughter doing?"

"Angela? They're doing fine. Actually great. No matter how many times I've altered his life in the past, he always wins that girl, and they always make it to the end."

"What about the two upstairs?" I asked. Nick had been like a step son to me. Always around Michael. Making his life easier, making it worth living. I owed that kid more than I let on, but I could never tell him. Without Nick, there was no happy Michael, or so I was told by my comrade. Without Nick, Michael would have become a monster, driven by anger and loneliness, and I could tell that from the time I knew he was my son. Because that's how I was, and how I'll die.

"Them two? A match made in heaven. Though, it will be up too Michael, whether or not it stays that way. He's the peace keeper as you know, and the final piece to our little war." His words were finally starting to straighten out, no longer hung down by his sad tone. "God, I wish things could be different!"

I watched him look at his watch. "Ten minutes, thirty two seconds." He said, keeping time for whatever he planned to come next.

He looked up at me, straightening out his sleeve until it, once again, hid his watch. "So are you prepared to train him?"

I thought about it for a minute. This would be much easier if he could just use his hands generate the skill to my son, rather than the two of us have to cross that dangerous bridge.

"Are you sure he'll survive it?"

"He's your son, isn't he?"

I smiled, and he rose. I guess time was up between us. With another quick hug, he left for the door. But a final question still lingered in my head.

"Is it going to be short?" I asked.

"The man was a coward as a human. And even as a monster, he can't control his fear of you."

I frowned. "That doesn't answer my question."

"Shotgun blast to the back of the head. The fastest death anyone can experience." The words drew sick images in my head. Images that I'd regret as I tried to sleep that night. Images that would soon become reality.

As I showed him off, I thought of my son, and what was about to happen between us. In those final years of the war, I'd never have thought that I'd ever need the use of the plague again. Nor did I ever want to see that dreadful monster. The greatest killing force I'd ever seen, had been lying dormant in my claws for many years, dying and alone. And now I had to bring it out in my son... I choked a little as I said, "Goodbye, friend."

"Hopefully, this is the last time." He said back, forcing himself not to look back at me. I trusted him, and what he knew was right. This was the man that saved my life when he was just a boy with a sword. This was the man who'd given my family six hundred years of servitude to force our world forward. This was the man, who's dream, I would be glad to die for.

Goodbye my friend.