The snowstorm intensified as the sky darkened. The winds howled as they sent snow and rain from the clouds to ravage the land with their frigid white fury. So cold it was, even the monsters had retreated to the safety of their caves. The barren land was almost void of any life. Almost, except for a teenage boy that lay spread-eagled on the ground, unconscious. He had been there for quite awhile and tiny white snowflakes hung on his eyelashes. His red-and-black checkered hoodie was covered with snow and his damp brown hair lay flat on his forehead. His expression was peaceful compared to the chaos that swirled around him.

Suddenly he opened his eyes and sat up with a jolt, gasping loudly. The teenager looked around, utterly confused, his breath forming faint clouds in the air before dissipating. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was succumbing to bacca poison. Now he was stuck in a snowstorm with no knowledge of his whereabouts.

Mitch shook off the freezing snow and attempted to stand up, but the wind blew him back down to the ground. He drew his thin hoodie closer to himself, wincing as the air nipped at his exposed skin relentlessly. Mitch coughed violently and tried to crawl away, but he was shivering too much and it felt like all of his strength had been sapped away. Another strong gust of wind made Mitch inhale sharply and shut his eyes tightly. He brought his knees to his chest and tried in vain to preserve what little warmth he had. It was so cold...

Mitch was dimly aware of a pair of strong arms embracing him and two wings wrapping around his body. He stopped shivering and rested his head against the person's chest. Mitch was vaguely reminded of the soothing warmth of a fireplace and the person's wings felt as delicate as the petals of a dandelion. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

The person smiled sadly as he held the freezing teenager closer to him. Mitch's amber aura was flickering like a candle in the wind, and he was afraid that it would go out completely. But all the angel from the Aether could do was sit vigilantly through the storm, guarding his son from the cold.

---

The storm gradually softened. The winds slowed to a peaceful breeze and the snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground. The sun shone through the white clouds and the snow began to melt. The angel looked down at Mitch, who was still sound asleep in the warm embrace of his wings. He sighed with relief when he saw that Mitch's aura was a steady bright amber again. "Wake up, Mitch." he said, tousling the teenager's sandy-brown hair affectionately.

Mitch yawned and rubbed his eyes. He looked up and stilled when he saw the angel. A bright golden aura emanated from him and he had on dark blue robes and a purple scarf. The ange's crystal-blue wings matched his eyes. The angel had ashy-blonde hair and looked about thirty-years-old, yet he still had a youthful air to him. Mitch's heart almost stopped in shock. "Daddy?" Mitch asked in disbelief. He wondered if he was still hallucinating from the bacca poison. "Is that you?"

The man laughed softly. "Yes, Mitch."

"But I thought you were dead."

"I am. I'm an angel of the Aether now."

Mitch reached out to hold the angel's hand and was surprised that he could actually feel it. He paused, still unsure if this was just an illusion. Mitch decided to ask a question that only his real father could answer. "What presents did I get for my ninth birthday?"

"Oh, that's easy to remember." the angel said, smiling fondly. "Let's see, Tulip gave you a birthday card, I gave you my dog tag, and your mother gave you your first bow. Oh, and I also baked your birthday cake." He turned to look at Mitch with his warm, familiar blue eyes. "Convinced now?"

Mitch's eyes grew as wide as saucers. "It's really you." he whispered. His face contorted as he tried to hold back his tears. "I... I..."

His father wrapped his arms around Mitch and pulled him in for a hug. "It's okay, Mitch. Just let it all out."

Mitch trembled as he sobbed uncontrollably. "I missed you so much!" Mitch cried.

His father stroked Mitch's hair comfortingly. "I missed you too, Mitch."

Mitch let out a shaky gasp and sniffled. "I'm sorry Daddy, I'm so, so sorry..."

"For what?"

"I'm such a terrible son..." Mitch whimpered, his voice muffled by his father's robes.

"No, no, no, Mitch. Don't say that." his father replied. "I'm so proud of you-"

"But, but I'm a murderer!" Mitch wailed hysterically. "I'm a murderer..."

Mitch's father understood the pain behind his son's words all too well. "It wasn't your fault, Mitch. It was in self-defense, it wasn't your fault." he insisted. Mitch just shook his head and continued to cry in his father's shoulder, which grew wet and hot. His father kissed the top of Mitch's head and rubbed circles on his back, murmuring soothing words.

The sun climbed higher and higher into the sky, illuminating the two. Mitch stopped crying and pulled away, wiping his eyes. "Are you here because I'm dead too?" he asked.

His father shook his head. There was a rumbling sound and the angel looked alarmed. He covered Mitch's eyes with his arm to shield them from a massive flash of light. The ground shook slightly as someone wearing a white cloak descended from the sky in front of them. The newcomer appeared to be the same age as Mitch, but there was a certain depth to his sky-blue eyes that suggested he was far older and wiser than he looked. The man's hair was as golden as the sun, and every part of him radiated heavenly power: his two cloud-like wings, his glowing halo above his head, and his luminous-white aura that crackled with pure raw energy.

Mitch instantly recognized him from the stories that his mother used to tell him. This was no mere mortal. This was the third brother of the Four. This was the Oracle, the very creator of water and air. This was the Lord of the Aether. This was Lord Aris. Mitch hadn't realized that he had been quivering in awe until his father put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

The immortal turned to Mitch's father. "Rise, Brother, and come forward." Lord Aris said. The two heavenly beings discussed with hushed tones before the angel turned to Mitch, smiled, and flew away.

"Where is he going?" Mitch asked. Remembering exactly who he was speaking to, he lowered his gaze to stare at the grass. "Lord Aris."

Lord Aris replied in a soft voice, "He is scouring the area of enemies."

"Oh." Mitch said quietly. He glanced apprehensively at the immortal, half-expecting Lord Aris to suddenly strike him down with a bolt of lightning. One zap was all he needed to turn Mitch into a pile of ash.

As though he had read his mind, Lord Aris turned to Mitch and his blue eyes lit with amusement. "There is no need to fear me, Mitchell. I am here to help you, not harm. Come now. Let us walk." Mitch wordlessly followed the immortal into a forest, holding back millions of questions. "I suppose you'd like to know where we are." Lord Aris continued.

"Y-Yes." Mitch cleared his throat and stood a little straighter. "Yes, Lord Aris. Are we in the Aether?"

A smile formed on Lord Aris' lips. "No, we are in a Soulscape. Yours, to be exact. A Soulscape is connected to one's Dreamscape, but instead of dreams, a Soulscape reflects the state of one's soul."

Mitch remembered the harsh weather of the previous night. "So last night..."

"The reason why bacca poison is so deadly is because it literally tears your soul from your body. That is why you hallucinated when you were bitten; your Soulscape was severely damaged. But as you can see," he gestured to the thriving land around them, "you are healing quickly."

"But why did you save me?" Mitch asked. "Why didn't you just let me die?"

"That is a question that will be answered soon." He paused. "Mitchell, do you remember a certain memory you dreamed a few days ago when you were in a coma?" Mitch nodded. "I sent you that dream to remind you of the dangers the world currently faces. Since words are often misheard over time, the story is not completely accurate. But I do not possess the power to conjure imaginary scenes in the minds of people. That is a power reserved for my younger brother."

"Lord Ender?" Mitch asked.

Lord Aris nodded and his gaze fell slightly at the mention of his brother; however, the expression on his face was emerged from the trees to see a giant lake that was crystal-clear. There was a peaceful breeze and Mitch could hear mockingjays chirping in the rustling trees. Lord Aris sat on the sandy shore and Mitch sat down beside him. After a moment of silence, Lord Aris spoke. "As you well know, I can see the future. But time is complicated. It is similar to, say, a thread that is unraveling very rapidly. Choices people make and pure chance unravel the thread, but in the end only one strand represents the events that occur. And even that strand unravels into many more possibilities."

"That sounds... complicated." Mitch admitted.

"You have no idea. It is both a blessing and a curse to see every single strand of time. But I try to use it to guide people to make the right choices. That brings us to the reason why I am here. Lord Ender has escaped from his prison in the End and returned to the Overworld, but in my weakened state, I cannot fight my brother and expect to succeed. Strong as they are, not even the Brother Angels and Sister Valkyries can stop my brother and his growing army of millions."

Mitch's face paled. "Is there anything that can be done?"

"There is a Prophecy that speaks of eleven mortals that can defeat my brother." Lord Aris said quietly. "But like all prophecies, it can easily change. Nonetheless, we must try to make it true."

"We?"

"As the Eighth, you play an unspeakably important role in the Prophecy, Mitchell." Lord Aris said.

Mitch was temporarily rendered speechless with shock. His mouth felt dry and he cleared his throat several times. "I... I'm part of the Prophecy?" he asked in disbelief. "But why me?"

Lord Aris shrugged. "The choices Destiny and Fate make cannot be questioned. I, for one, am not surprised that you have been chosen as one of the Eleven."

Mitch shook his head. "You must be wrong, Lord Aris." Mitch said. "I can't be part of the Prophecy."

"And why is that?" Lord Aris asked.

"Because... Because I just can't." Mitch said lamely, staring at the ground.

"Because you don't think you're strong enough." Lord Aris said, as though he had read Mitch's mind. "You lost complete faith in yourself when you were forced to kill a man for your own survival." Mitch made no response, which only confirmed the immortal's words. Lord Aris pulled something out of his pocket and held it. "I'm sure you already know the tale I am about to tell," he said, "but you must remember it, for it is very important.

"Three decades ago, there were two teenagers: a girl and a boy. The girl was a skilled archer and had a fiery spirit. The boy was a strong, kind baker who loved the girl when he heard her sing. The girl's younger sister was selected to play a game which she had no hope of winning, a deadly, horrible game which my younger brother created to increase fear and thus give him the strength to escape the End. The girl bravely took her sister's place. In a cruel twist of Fate, the boy was chosen as well. The two were put in an arena with 22 others to fight to the death. Eventually they were the only ones left, but the girl refused to kill the boy and threatened to kill them both so no one could win the game. Thus, they sparked a rebellion that eventually freed their people of a cruel dictatorship.

"As I'm sure you already know, the girl's name was Katniss Everdeen and the boy's name was Peeta Mellark." Lord Aris said, placing the item he had been holding in Mitch's hand. Mitch looked down at the object in his palm, recognizing it almost immediately. It was a golden pin that had a bird with an arrow in its beak, its wingtips connected to a ring that surrounded the bird.

Mitch looked wildly at Lord Aris. "But, but I don't, I can't- AUGH!" he screamed as he collapsed on the ground. He gasped as he felt another wave of pain. "What's happening to me?!" he yelled as he stared at his tingling hands. The strange feeling spread through his body until he felt like he was on fire.

Lord Aris stood up. "I'm afraid that our time together has come to an end, Mitchell, for now you must wake up."

Mitch's father flew over to Mitch and clutched him by his shoulders. "Listen to me." he said quickly, staring at the teenager with his wide blue eyes. "Mitchell Hughes Mellark, as my son, I know you have what it takes to be the Eighth. Never..." He paused to wipe his eyes. "Never lose hope. Your mother and I love you more than the world itself and we'll always be there with you even when you feel alone, okay?" He choked up and couldn't say another word.

Mitch hugged his father tightly. "I love you too, Daddy." Mitch whispered for the last time as he let the fire consume him. Mitch slipped from his father's grasp and he futilely reached a hand out to him as he plunged downward into the Void, screaming in terror. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach as he continued to fall through the air...

The first thing Mitch saw when he woke up was a glowing pair of pink eyes staring back at him.