The red-brick building loomed before me, taunting me with the white letters that spelled out 'Millton High School'. I had never been to one of these places before, but the notion of them sounded like a dreamland. It was a place where many people got together and learned different subjects. From what I learned, humans found it mainstream to loathe this place and all it stands for. I hoped that my Extant didn't fall under this, because opportunity was written all over this place.

I adjusted my jacket, thinking of Lord Ebony, my mother. This jacket was the only thing she had ever given me lovingly. Other than that, it was mostly swordsmanship lessons and such. Everyone seemed to see me as a colleague, not a brother or son or friend. Maybe here would be different.

Maybe my Extant would think different of me.

With a deep breath and a tidbit of inspiration weaving its way through my heart, I stepped into the school with a smile on my face. I, Oliver Kilos, a demon, was going to meet the individual that I was going to look at as a friend. Not a student. Because everyone deserves much more.

In the morning, Oliver Kalos was still beside me, the padded white of his jacket making my skin melt like butter. One arm was over me, one leg over one of mine, and one hand at an odd angle under his chin. He was quite obviously one of those people that found comfort in the most awkward positions.

I creased my eyebrows in a mixture of frustration and confusion, indecisive on whether I should kick him off or let him lie there a little longer. My eyes skipped over his smooth, lily skin. The boy looked so peaceful in his sleep. His lips were slightly parted, eyelids laid gently over the vastness of his eyes. My hand loomed cautiously towards him, but instead of waking him, I softly took his hand from under his chin and brought it between us. I was careful not to wake him.

This feeling... is weird. I held his hand in between us and rested mine on his. You're my... friend. Right? It just feels so weird to think that Mary isn't the only person that I care about now... I half-lidded my black eyes, bringing his limp hand to my cheek. So strange to think that I used to not have you. I am so glad... that you guys became part of my life. Even if I don't show it... Is this... inappropriate? I frowned. You probably shouldn't hold my hand anymore. Everyone may start getting the wrong idea...

Suddenly, his eyelids fluttered the tiniest bit, and he let out a small groan. His eyes revealed themselves partially, two little sapphires peeking out from the skin. "Morning, Emma... Sleep well?"

With a grimace, I released his hand with a great force. "Yeah... I did... Uh..." I blinked at him curiously. "How about you?"

He smiled. "Like a baby, now that you're here." He gripped my hand again. "I almost forgot we were at Gran P's, haha."

His laughter was a melody that almost competed with Metallica. Almost. I let my hand go limp instead of snatching it away, giving a frustrated huff of breath. "I don't know how you can forget. We practically spent all day yesterday getting here. Did you dream?"

"I don't think vessels dream. Did you?"

"Yeah."

He smiled softly. "What did you dream about?"

I had a vision of you before... Of course, I didn't answer him that. Sure, he knew about my ability. And true, I promised to keep him updated, but he didn't need to know every image that passed into my head. After all, I was currently having visions about his life. If someone was living mine, I wouldn't want to know. So I kept my mouth shut about it.

"Don't remember... I can remember a building, but that's it..." I bit the inside of my cheek, then willed my aching muscles to work as I pulled myself up. I straightened my back and stretched my slimly-muscled arms in front of me. "Damn, this burns."

"Perhaps the old woman will let you bathe?" Oliver gave a delicate shrug. "That would be good for you. You hurt because you haven't had a good sleep in so long... How long have we been on this mission for?"

"No idea.." My eyes met my sword from across the room, and I gulped steadily. When will the next fight be? This is what life was like at war, I imagined. Always on alert, always depending on other people. I shook the thoughts away and crawled out of the bed, and I felt his sapphire eyes follow me. "Let's walk around outside a little before everyone else wakes up."

He nodded eagerly and followed me, patting the wrinkles out of his jeans as I began trekking out of the room. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes and my sword, and caught up by the time I was already at the front door. No one else was awake, from the looks of it.

I took my sword from him, suddenly becoming aware that my appearance was probably in shambles. Greasy, knotted hair, sweat, clothes wrinkled... I felt the heat of irritation play at my cheeks, and I let my weapon droop at my side. You have never cared what you look like to other people. You're turning into a fucking girly girl, Emma Whitestone.

Oliver slid a cigarette out of the pack, creasing his eyebrows. "Is something wrong?" He stood downwind of me, and was careful to keep his distance so I wouldn't choke on the plume in the air.

I shook my head with a sudden anger, crossing my arms. Maybe I'm just uncomfortable. After all, I usually don't go so long without a shower. "I am alright. Really."

With another step outside, the land erupted in stripes of corrupted purple streaked in black. Oliver shrieked and jumped back towards me on the unstable ground, and I grit my teeth before a cry could escape. My hand immediately flew to the sword clipped in my belt, fingers gripping hard around the handle. The ground spiked around us, and I balanced myself with my sword.

Oliver stumbled a bit, then stood upright again. His blue eyes darted around in panic, and I was careful to stay at his side. "Who is it this time?" His query was quiet, unsure, and afraid. From the looks of it, he had already guessed who was attacking us.

I knew because I had seen his mental energy from Ebony's eyes. It was Salt.

Said demon burst from the plumes of dirt, testing his sword by bringing it down against where Oliver stood. My Apotropaic twisted out of the way, expression going almost as fiery as it did whenever Bluethorne had threatened me.

"You, boy! It's been a long time~" The demon twisted a sickening smirk onto his face, pushing the long white hair out of his eye. "It has been a long time since I got you practically alone." His inky eyes rested on Oliver, merciless and cold.

I stepped closer to my Apotropaic, resting my hand on the hood of his jacket. My own dark gaze made its way towards Salt, unbroken and hot with anger. I pulled Oliver closer to me, feeling a strange protectiveness swell over my body. If the demon dared get close to my Apotropaic, mentally or physically, I would kill him. "He isn't alone."

Oliver seemed frozen in fear, eyes glittering in raw, cold emotion as his hands trembled. Of course, he could resist the man now, but all those years ago, he had no control over what had happened to him... When Salt tried to... I shook my head, wondering if he had gotten away with it. After all, I didn't see the entire vision...

Salt grinned, corners of his mouth curling sickeningly. "Oh, protective. That's a good trait. I am proud of my son to have such an Extant."

"I am not your son!" Oliver snarled, fists shaking at his sides.

How would that feel, I wondered, to have this conversation with your parent? I couldn't imagine the betrayal he must have had to go through for this... His emotions...

"You shouldn't have to fight this fight..." I murmured, and the almost couldn't hear it. My observation was not met. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dillan and Nahara standing hand in hand, eyes sparked open wide with shock and worry.

But never fear. I gulped. They never looked afraid. They were brave... Like I had to be.

They were both outside of the forcefield of mental energy.

"But your mother isn't any better~" Salt sang, and according to my phobia, he brought out a gun with engravings snaked into it. "Trust me, you would have rather been raped and left dead than the fate that became of you. Your immortality was surely a punishment for existing itself."

"It was a reward!" Oliver's voice cracked at the end. The man was getting to him.

"Really~? Your brother ignores you, your sister has been missing since birth, your mother hates you~... What is there to live for?"

I left Oliver's side, and neither seemed to notice.

"For a prophecy? What has Croma done for you? You are better off dead, boy~"

"Shut up..." Angry, Oliver spiked his own mental energy along inside of the forcefield. Each strike turned to ash, dueling with the greater power.

I stood behind Salt.

"I am right, aren't I? Or else, you wouldn't keep trying to kill yourself in Croma~! So weak, so pathetic..." Salt dipped his head. "How can you even train your Extant? Surely she's told you how bad you're at this multiple times~"

With all my strength, I shot my sword, WHITESTONE, towards him. Salt whirled around and classed the sword with mental energy surrounding his hand, grinning maniacally. I struggled to take my weapon back, arms quivering against the demon's strength.

Salt eventually dropped my sword, and held something much more valuable instead... My neck. His calloused hands clasped around my windpipe, nails scratching against the smooth skin there. My hands flew up to his to pry him off, and he gave it a squeeze to make me stop.

Salt glanced towards Oliver, who was closer and sweating. He had obviously started trying to save me, but was stopped for fear. He clenched his jaw, single blue eye opened wide. His hands shook, and he looked as if he were fixing to cry.

"You are so bad at training her~" Salt purred. "I could sense her the whole time! What about you~?"

I attempted to kick him, but he snapped towards me and squeezed my windpipe even more. "If I feel creation around me, I will kill you~ If either of you attempt to hurt me, I will kill you~ Is that understood?"

I would have spat in his face, but I physically couldn't with where his hand was. Oliver began shaking with fear of his father, anger towards what his father was doing, and thick grief at what his father was bound to do. If I died now, it was over. The prophecy was gone, the Dark was going to overrun, and I would never see Mary again.

I lifted my head indignantly, rebelling against whatever there was to fight. Salt grinned in appreciation to how hard I was fighting, and chuckled. "Maybe messing with your steal trap of a head will be fun before I snap it~"

At this point, Oliver's eyes were darting between us frantically.

Salt gripped my throat harder when my muscles clenched, and narrowed his eyes slyly. "Have you ever wondered why you have your visions? No one else has them, after all~ If I told you why, oh, how stubborn you would be!~ You would never believe me."

I choked out, "G-good! I-I-I don't wa-want to hear it!" The muscles in my legs became restless, yearning to kick him in the stomach. Of course, having tried that, he would probably only snap my neck in response.

"Aren't you curious who Lilith is? How how the Dark army knows about you visions?"

I froze.

"Listen, Emma Whitestone~ You have been lied to. Your parents aren't even your parents."

I curled my lip. "Liar..."

Instead of tightening his grip, he looked a bit thoughtful. "Well... You are your mother's daughter... But you bare no resemblance to your father, do you~? Do you even wonder why your wind is so weak? Why you act so cruel towards people? Oh, it has nothing to do with personality~ Just your bloodline!"

"I don't believe you-"

"Truth is, your mother mated with our very own-"

Before Salt could finish, there was the sound of something splattering, and his eyes widened. He thrashed me across the forcefield of mental power, and Oliver wasted no time rushing to aid me. I felt my muscles relax and the air return through my stinging neck.

I made a straining glance towards Salt, watching as he turned to face someone... The person who had shot his vessel through the chest. With one last angry glance, he fell to the earth with a thud and the barrier vaporized around us. The gun wound smoked against his vessel's skin.

Oliver picked my body up gingerly and held me to his chest. I struggled to my feet, dipping my head.

The hand that offered to steady me was Grant P.

And when I took that hand, it was very clear that she grumbled, "Damned Dark army..."