Slowly but surely, the outside world encroaches on the realm unseen. The borders now are not of mist, but the metal of mortals. So few remain of the places we once found peace, and even those are but a hair's breadth from the ground where angels fear to tread.

Reme, my Reme... Where does your soul now walk, and your body rest?

Endymion...

Do you really think you can sneak up on me? I hear your boots in the grass, boy.

There you are. Come, my pet.

Such a good boy...

Ah, how you loathe it when I speak you thus - and yet...

...you cannot resist me, can you? Your body betrays you.

Succumb to temptation, innocent one, and I shall reward thee with forbidden fruit.

© 2007, Atra Materia.

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