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Description
The childish plastic beads that kept her hair back into equally childish auburn pigtails clacked together as she wriggled desperately under the bush. She knew that she was getting dirt all over her perfectly clean and neat jumper, and that her mother would be upset, but there was something there!

"Natalie! It's time to come inside, my dove! ...Natalie? Where..?"

Her mother's calls went unheeded as the tiny girl finally emerged from the foliage on the other side. In fact, the ever more frantic shouts and calls almost seemed to melt into the distance. She found herself in a small, peaceful clearing that she'd somehow never noticed before that day. Flowers and vines fell from the trees overhead, and bushes that looked much softer than they felt enclosed the clearing. On the far side, a tree. It was a grand old tree, the type that had taken many lifetimes to form and would continue to form for many lifetimes to come. Normally, she would have delighted to see such a tree, and would have immediately clambered up as high as her short limbs could carry her, but there was something more pressing at hand now. Namely, the crumpled, broken form lying very still at the base of the tree.

As she approached, she took in every detail as only a small child can. The almost unhealthily slight form rose and fell so feebly that it could barely have been called breathing at all, and a faint rattling sound told her that even that poor excuse for respiration was excruciatingly painful. Long ash-blond hair that under any other circumstances would have been breathtakingly beautiful was wrapped and tangled around the body, obscuring the upper half almost totally. Under that golden sheet was simple white clothing. Though the cut was strange, the clothes were almost form fitting and very flattering. Finally, a great black...something was on its back. So crumpled and wrinkled and thin that it looked to be some sort of cloth, but strangely structured, almost like a tattered old umbrella. She came up very close, and their true nature became apparent--wings. Dishelved broken wings, to be true, but they were undoubtably there, leathery and dark, like an overgrown bat's.

Natalie stood stock-still, taking in the sad, beautiful form in front of her. "You're a angel, aren't you?" she breathed, looking down at it in awe.

In response, the body gave a lurch and a croaking chuckle broke the peaceful silence. "Angel? Hardly. A fallen angel perhaps...but I'm no creature of God," a masculine voice grated out bitterly. The man pushed himself into a sitting position, his arms shaking only very slightly. He pushed his hair out of his face in a long, fluid motion so he could stare sardonically at the child. "A demon. Pure and simply, a demon. Hated and feared by all, and yet wholly and pathetically useless..."

The effect of these words were lost on the girl, who merely stood silently staring, transfixed by the emerald eyes that gazed back at her so evenly, hypnotized by the almost mythic loveliness of the man in front of her. Finally, slowly, she shook her head. "No...something as pretty as you can't be bad..." she whispered softly.

He blinked at her, his cold gaze becoming incredulous, then softening slightly into what could almost be calm, if not for the raging anger and pain reflected in his eyes. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then asked, "...what's your name, child?"  His voice was surprisingly musical and quiet once he worked the pain from it.

She started to answer, but then her mouth snapped shut and she began to fidget uncomfortably. Her mother had always told her not to talk to strangers, no matter how kind they might seem. This one, however, did not have any kind pretenses...he just drew her, like a moth to the light. She was silent for a few moments, then let her gaze fall to the mossy ground at her feet.

The man frowned slightly, but the expression was soon gone and a mask of indifference was set upon his face instead. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." he offered with a shrug. Watching his eyes, though, she saw that the bright light in his eyes had become listless. Seeing that, she immediately answered him.

"Natalie. What's yours?" she answered then asked in turn, falling to her knees in front of him.

Instead of answering, he adopted a thoughtful look and his eyes fixed upon some spot in the distance, far away from her. "Natalie. A Slavic name, I believe...'born from Natalia'. Were you born from a Natalia?" he asked her, completely sidestepping her question.

She frowned, then shook her head. "No...Mommy's name is Linnea, but only Daddy calls her that..." she answered, not noticing the shift in conversation.

"Then you aren't a Natalie. A Natalia, maybe, but not a Natalie. May I call you that instead?" he continued, his eyes coming back to hers.

She blinked. "But what's a Natalia?" she asked.

"A Natalia is 'born on Christmas'," he answered cryptically, "A gift, almost."

Natalie shook her head. "Then I'm not a Natalia either. My birthday's in November."

He shrugged. "It's a much nicer name, though. I will call you Natalia," he said, as if coming to a very important decision within himself.

She shook her head, the strange conversation muddling her thoughts.  "But what can I call you?" she asked again.

He winced, but looked at her consideringly.  "...Adon.  My name is Adon," he told her, his voice losing its spark.

Natalie bit her lip, knowing that she'd said something wrong.  "And what's a Adon?" she asked softly.

He gave her a humorless smile.  "An Adon is a 'lord' or 'god'.  See?  Names don't always need to fit..." he trailed off, looking down at his lap unseeingly.  One of his hands went to trace the edge of one of his battered wings, and he winced, though she wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the humiliation.

Natalie looked down, too, feeling almost that she should not look at him in that state.  "Are...are your wings broken?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Adon paused for a moment, as if he was finding out himself.  "Among other, more important things, yes.  Why does it bother you so much?"

She looked up at him sharply, horrified.  "Because you can't be an angel without wings!" she declared in a hushed sort of voice.

He stared at her for a moment before an amused smile started tugging at the side of his mouth.  "An angel, eh...?"

She nodded earnestly.  "Besides, wings are...fr...fra...um, they break easily!  Mommy told me not to ever grab a bird or a butterfly because I could hurt its wings and then it would hurt a lot!" she added.

He nodded.  "It does hurt.  A demon's wings are their most sensitive areas...I assume that other winged creatures are the same way.  Unfortunately...there are other things...things that can hurt a lot more..." he said, looking away from her again.

Natalie's forehead creased up in thought.  "I don't think I have any band-aids with me...but is there anything I can do to make it all better?" she asked, rummaging through one of the pockets on the front of her jumper for said bandages.

Adon, for a split second, looked conflicted.  His expression shifted from sad to hurt to hesitant to almost hungry in that short time.  Finally, haltingly, he gave his answer.  "Yes, actually...but it's the sort of thing that I can never let you do...the sort of thing I've promised and sworn not to do..." he murmured, more to himself than the little girl sitting in front of him.

Natalie leaned forward so that her face was right up near his.  "Tell me!  Adon is Natalie's friend, and Natalie doesn't let her friends hurt!" she said fiercely to a stunned demon.

Adon watched her, let his gaze flit over her face in unadulterated longing.  "If I do, I'll never forgive myself...but...  Natalia, have you ever kept anything safe before?" he asked her slowly, his voice strained.

Natalie's eyes lit up.  "Yeah!  Mommy has me watch our dog sometimes when she has to go down the street, and just today my friend Naomi made me hold her crayons while she went to the bathroom!" she said excitedly.

He winced at the pure naivete that was a five year old.  "...if...if I were to give you something very, very important, could you keep it safe for me?  It would need to be secret protected by your very life...  I...nevermind Natalia, my dear.  I can handle this," he said, coming to a decision through his own words.

Natalie shook her head vigorously.  "No!  No, I can take care of things!  I can keep a secret!  If it'll help Adon, I'll definitely, definitely do it right!  Let me help!" she pleaded.

Adon looked down at her, thoughts warring in his head and on his face.  Finally, he let out a long, shuddery breath.  "I'm going to give you a Key, Natalia.  It's the key to the most precious and dangerous treasure chest in all the worlds, and you must keep it safe...as it looks like I might not be able to anymore..." he said softly looking down at the blood staining his pristine white clothing.

Natalie hesitated for a moment, then nodded resolutely.  "Give it to me!  I won't let anyone take Adon's special treasure, I promise!" she declared firmly.

He gave her a soft, sad smile.  "It isn't my treasure...it's the world's," he murmured.  Then, he began to mutter something.  Something nonsensical that was built from the languages of people long dead, something that made the wind pick up and the birds stop singing.  "Look, Natalia," Adon commanded in a quiet hiss.

She glanced down to where his hands laid cupped in his lap.  There, resting inside of them, was a little globe of light, so bright that it was hard to look at.  "That's the Key..?" she asked, her voice awed.

He nodded tensely, a muscle near his mouth working furiously as he fought to keep his concentration.  "Take it."

She looked down at it and swallowed hard, but then reached out a tentative hand.  Closer, closer...touching.  As soon as her hand ghosted over the light, time stopped.  Everything went silent, everything stopped moving.  Everything was just a blinding white light.

And then it stopped, and Adon was shaking her gently, and...was her mother calling her?

"Natalie!  My little dove, where are you?!" the frantic cry came.  Obviously whatever spell had settled over the two of them was now broken.

Natalie glanced towards the voice, then back at Adon, who was quickly regaining the color in his pale face.  He gave her a gentle smile, then nodded towards the voice.  "Go, Natalia.  Your mother is worried.  Goodbye...and don't forget your promise..." he said weakly, the transfer obviously tiring him further.

With one last concerned look, Natalie stood and backed away from him and through that prickly bush.

All was silent in the clearing for an indeterminable amount of time.  Seconds, minutes, hours, all blurred together.  In the midst of it was Adon.

"Natalie, Natalia, my little dove...  I have doomed you..."

Description
The childish plastic beads that kept her hair back into equally childish auburn pigtails clacked together as she wriggled desperately under the bush. She knew that she was getting dirt all over her perfectly clean and neat jumper, and that her mother would be upset, but there was something there!

"Natalie! It's time to come inside, my dove! ...Natalie? Where..?"

Her mother's calls went unheeded as the tiny girl finally emerged from the foliage on the other side. In fact, the ever more frantic shouts and calls almost seemed to melt into the distance. She found herself in a small, peaceful clearing that she'd somehow never noticed before that day. Flowers and vines fell from the trees overhead, and bushes that looked much softer than they felt enclosed the clearing. On the far side, a tree. It was a grand old tree, the type that had taken many lifetimes to form and would continue to form for many lifetimes to come. Normally, she would have delighted to see such a tree, and would have immediately clambered up as high as her short limbs could carry her, but there was something more pressing at hand now. Namely, the crumpled, broken form lying very still at the base of the tree.

As she approached, she took in every detail as only a small child can. The almost unhealthily slight form rose and fell so feebly that it could barely have been called breathing at all, and a faint rattling sound told her that even that poor excuse for respiration was excruciatingly painful. Long ash-blond hair that under any other circumstances would have been breathtakingly beautiful was wrapped and tangled around the body, obscuring the upper half almost totally. Under that golden sheet was simple white clothing. Though the cut was strange, the clothes were almost form fitting and very flattering. Finally, a great black...something was on its back. So crumpled and wrinkled and thin that it looked to be some sort of cloth, but strangely structured, almost like a tattered old umbrella. She came up very close, and their true nature became apparent--wings. Dishelved broken wings, to be true, but they were undoubtably there, leathery and dark, like an overgrown bat's.

Natalie stood stock-still, taking in the sad, beautiful form in front of her. "You're a angel, aren't you?" she breathed, looking down at it in awe.

In response, the body gave a lurch and a croaking chuckle broke the peaceful silence. "Angel? Hardly. A fallen angel perhaps...but I'm no creature of God," a masculine voice grated out bitterly. The man pushed himself into a sitting position, his arms shaking only very slightly. He pushed his hair out of his face in a long, fluid motion so he could stare sardonically at the child. "A demon. Pure and simply, a demon. Hated and feared by all, and yet wholly and pathetically useless..."

The effect of these words were lost on the girl, who merely stood silently staring, transfixed by the emerald eyes that gazed back at her so evenly, hypnotized by the almost mythic loveliness of the man in front of her. Finally, slowly, she shook her head. "No...something as pretty as you can't be bad..." she whispered softly.

He blinked at her, his cold gaze becoming incredulous, then softening slightly into what could almost be calm, if not for the raging anger and pain reflected in his eyes. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then asked, "...what's your name, child?"  His voice was surprisingly musical and quiet once he worked the pain from it.

She started to answer, but then her mouth snapped shut and she began to fidget uncomfortably. Her mother had always told her not to talk to strangers, no matter how kind they might seem. This one, however, did not have any kind pretenses...he just drew her, like a moth to the light. She was silent for a few moments, then let her gaze fall to the mossy ground at her feet.

The man frowned slightly, but the expression was soon gone and a mask of indifference was set upon his face instead. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." he offered with a shrug. Watching his eyes, though, she saw that the bright light in his eyes had become listless. Seeing that, she immediately answered him.

"Natalie. What's yours?" she answered then asked in turn, falling to her knees in front of him.

Instead of answering, he adopted a thoughtful look and his eyes fixed upon some spot in the distance, far away from her. "Natalie. A Slavic name, I believe...'born from Natalia'. Were you born from a Natalia?" he asked her, completely sidestepping her question.

She frowned, then shook her head. "No...Mommy's name is Linnea, but only Daddy calls her that..." she answered, not noticing the shift in conversation.

"Then you aren't a Natalie. A Natalia, maybe, but not a Natalie. May I call you that instead?" he continued, his eyes coming back to hers.

She blinked. "But what's a Natalia?" she asked.

"A Natalia is 'born on Christmas'," he answered cryptically, "A gift, almost."

Natalie shook her head. "Then I'm not a Natalia either. My birthday's in November."

He shrugged. "It's a much nicer name, though. I will call you Natalia," he said, as if coming to a very important decision within himself.

She shook her head, the strange conversation muddling her thoughts.  "But what can I call you?" she asked again.

He winced, but looked at her consideringly.  "...Adon.  My name is Adon," he told her, his voice losing its spark.

Natalie bit her lip, knowing that she'd said something wrong.  "And what's a Adon?" she asked softly.

He gave her a humorless smile.  "An Adon is a 'lord' or 'god'.  See?  Names don't always need to fit..." he trailed off, looking down at his lap unseeingly.  One of his hands went to trace the edge of one of his battered wings, and he winced, though she wasn't sure if it was from the pain or the humiliation.

Natalie looked down, too, feeling almost that she should not look at him in that state.  "Are...are your wings broken?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Adon paused for a moment, as if he was finding out himself.  "Among other, more important things, yes.  Why does it bother you so much?"

She looked up at him sharply, horrified.  "Because you can't be an angel without wings!" she declared in a hushed sort of voice.

He stared at her for a moment before an amused smile started tugging at the side of his mouth.  "An angel, eh...?"

She nodded earnestly.  "Besides, wings are...fr...fra...um, they break easily!  Mommy told me not to ever grab a bird or a butterfly because I could hurt its wings and then it would hurt a lot!" she added.

He nodded.  "It does hurt.  A demon's wings are their most sensitive areas...I assume that other winged creatures are the same way.  Unfortunately...there are other things...things that can hurt a lot more..." he said, looking away from her again.

Natalie's forehead creased up in thought.  "I don't think I have any band-aids with me...but is there anything I can do to make it all better?" she asked, rummaging through one of the pockets on the front of her jumper for said bandages.

Adon, for a split second, looked conflicted.  His expression shifted from sad to hurt to hesitant to almost hungry in that short time.  Finally, haltingly, he gave his answer.  "Yes, actually...but it's the sort of thing that I can never let you do...the sort of thing I've promised and sworn not to do..." he murmured, more to himself than the little girl sitting in front of him.

Natalie leaned forward so that her face was right up near his.  "Tell me!  Adon is Natalie's friend, and Natalie doesn't let her friends hurt!" she said fiercely to a stunned demon.

Adon watched her, let his gaze flit over her face in unadulterated longing.  "If I do, I'll never forgive myself...but...  Natalia, have you ever kept anything safe before?" he asked her slowly, his voice strained.

Natalie's eyes lit up.  "Yeah!  Mommy has me watch our dog sometimes when she has to go down the street, and just today my friend Naomi made me hold her crayons while she went to the bathroom!" she said excitedly.

He winced at the pure naivete that was a five year old.  "...if...if I were to give you something very, very important, could you keep it safe for me?  It would need to be secret protected by your very life...  I...nevermind Natalia, my dear.  I can handle this," he said, coming to a decision through his own words.

Natalie shook her head vigorously.  "No!  No, I can take care of things!  I can keep a secret!  If it'll help Adon, I'll definitely, definitely do it right!  Let me help!" she pleaded.

Adon looked down at her, thoughts warring in his head and on his face.  Finally, he let out a long, shuddery breath.  "I'm going to give you a Key, Natalia.  It's the key to the most precious and dangerous treasure chest in all the worlds, and you must keep it safe...as it looks like I might not be able to anymore..." he said softly looking down at the blood staining his pristine white clothing.

Natalie hesitated for a moment, then nodded resolutely.  "Give it to me!  I won't let anyone take Adon's special treasure, I promise!" she declared firmly.

He gave her a soft, sad smile.  "It isn't my treasure...it's the world's," he murmured.  Then, he began to mutter something.  Something nonsensical that was built from the languages of people long dead, something that made the wind pick up and the birds stop singing.  "Look, Natalia," Adon commanded in a quiet hiss.

She glanced down to where his hands laid cupped in his lap.  There, resting inside of them, was a little globe of light, so bright that it was hard to look at.  "That's the Key..?" she asked, her voice awed.

He nodded tensely, a muscle near his mouth working furiously as he fought to keep his concentration.  "Take it."

She looked down at it and swallowed hard, but then reached out a tentative hand.  Closer, closer...touching.  As soon as her hand ghosted over the light, time stopped.  Everything went silent, everything stopped moving.  Everything was just a blinding white light.

And then it stopped, and Adon was shaking her gently, and...was her mother calling her?

"Natalie!  My little dove, where are you?!" the frantic cry came.  Obviously whatever spell had settled over the two of them was now broken.

Natalie glanced towards the voice, then back at Adon, who was quickly regaining the color in his pale face.  He gave her a gentle smile, then nodded towards the voice.  "Go, Natalia.  Your mother is worried.  Goodbye...and don't forget your promise..." he said weakly, the transfer obviously tiring him further.

With one last concerned look, Natalie stood and backed away from him and through that prickly bush.

All was silent in the clearing for an indeterminable amount of time.  Seconds, minutes, hours, all blurred together.  In the midst of it was Adon.

"Natalie, Natalia, my little dove...  I have doomed you..."