A pounding, a knocking, a dull thudding filled the silent room. Each participant wore a thick mask of bravery, though each knew that the other was full to the brim with fear. It was only a matter of time before one or the other… broke. Simmering candles flickered solemnly from all points of the circle, entrancing each pale face with its dim, menacing light. They knew that the realm they were calling was dangerous, but they could not foretell the possibilities that each consequence spelled out.

A quiet muttering arose and the summoning had begun. No one knew quite what to expect, as this was an emergency. The victim lay sprawled out in the center of this candlelit ceremony. She had been stabbed; she had no memory of who she was. Her life was slowly dwindling, and every participant knew that her life was fleeting silently by. Luna had given over every inch of her being to save them.

Larson, the villainous fiend of an angel, had found them all huddled at the center of a grim apartment complex. Rain had been pounding furiously at the roof that caged them in. Not a soul had yet earned their greatly sought wings. The wind had been churning the objects in that dull room all about in a frantic frenzy.
That was when he had smashed the roof in. Somehow, even with his wicked ways, he had managed to earn his wings—silver knives of the most cruel intent—leaving each shuddering creature mesmerized by their dull majesty.

Luna had sparked to attention, however. She knew precisely what must be done and she left no room for questions in her mind. This is what set her apart from the rest. She was a leader. She was willing to fight this evil force at all costs. It was quite strange, as one wouldn’t consider the possibility of an evil angel. Evil was left up to the fallen—the demons. Yet, here this terrifying creature stood, poised with a sword drenched in bright flame.

Luna’s amber eyes had met his with a flinty defiance. She had pulled her hands together and summoned the blackest, most terrifying of all fires. It was then that their flames met in the living, breathing wind. Her flame would have surpassed her competitor's, if it weren’t for the blade that shot through her back. Azarael had taken the easy way out and taken her from behind. Luna fell.

And now, here they were, summoning some strange force from below for guidance; perhaps even for healing. They all secretly acknowledged the truth: her life was in the hands of the Master.

Luna was still sentient; however, she was barely able to register anything around her. Death lapped at her soul like waves in a summer maelstrom. She felt herself falling into a bright white light of memory. Her life was beginning to flash before her eyes. Just as her memories had nearly engulfed her being, Chaos came dashing in. His deep, soulless black eyes were walls of fury and concern as he leap to the center of the circle.

The group was unphased by his presence and continued to chant familiarly strange incantations. Luna had some spark of realization that they were one with the Others Right before she succumbed to Death's embrace, he kissed her.
Chapter 2

"Luna, can I see you for a second?" Jim called. "I've got bad news."

"Sure, Dad, what's wrong?" Luna asked.

Luna had just finished brushing her matted nest of a brunette bedhead. Her hair was usually very well-kept, but she had been holed up in her room for days, worrying. Her mother had been in the hospital for days. Doctors were baffled as to what Serena Davis was suffering from, and as they were hurriedly trying to diagnose her in hopes of healing her.

In the meantime, Luna and her father had been dwindling into madness as they awaited Serena's return. Jim had begun to read countless medical records from internet archives while Luna immersed herself within her books and dreams. Luna was nothing short of brilliant, and was college-bound due to some impressive scholarships. But what was special is that Luna was still able to retain her humility and did not speak like a pompous robot.

Luna did not want to leave her home just yet, though. So, she determined that it would be best to stay home for a year before chasing after adulthood and a career. She had yet to decide her purpose, but she knew that she was just short of stumbling upon it.

Now, with her mother sick, she didn't know how she could possibly plan for her future. She desired to remain until she knew her mother's murky fate.

"What's happened? Do they know what happened to her? What's wrong with her?"

"Your mother... She had an advanced stage of meningitis. Her brain swelled to the point of where it began to do some serious damage... Luna, I don't know how to say this, but your mother is dead," Jim said emptily.

Luna felt the insane urge to vomit. Instead, she burst into tears. Jim did nothing to help his daughter. He stared silently ahead at some unseen specter. Luna leaned against a wall for support. She could hardly breath, her lungs were ablaze with sorrow and fury.

This isn't fair! She doesn't deserve to die!

Luna gripped the oak railing at the end of the spiral staircase that led to the bedrooms in the house. Her mother would never ascend them with her dainty grace as she once did. She would always prance up them like a  ballerina caught in a gust of warm, summer wind.

But there would be no more dancing or frolicking in this house. All that was left was dull shock and pain. Luna could not stand the thought of sitting around her d**ned house. With an angry defiance, she strode out into the night. Her father did not stop her. He continued to stare blankly ahead.