Morning sunlight streamed through the mountains, the brilliant greens of spring lighting up the countryside in sharp contrast to the white bark of the aspen trees. Dark earth gleamed with moisture as dew fell from tender young leaves to the ground. A single drop hung suspended from a branch, wavering in the wind, uncertain of its fate before it fell shimmering through the air. It landed with a chill splash on the pale locks of a young man who started and glanced up, blue eyes reflecting the cloudless sky. He gave the tree a reproachful look as though it were somehow its fault and looked back down the path, resettling his school bag on his shoulder. His dark blue uniform set off his skin and hair with sharp contrast as he proceeded down the wooded glade towards the stern stone buildings ahead.

Shouts and cries filled the air as other boys went about their business on the school ground, a new year and new students. The eldest class had graduated during the winter, leaving none at the school who remembered the events of years gone by. None save the headmaster and varied professors who gazed out from their rooms with expressions varying from dread to joyful anticipation. Sure footed the boy continued down towards the side gate. Stepping through the door set in the stone wall, he paused, and for a brief instant different faces filled the grounds, young and fresh, faded memories. Shaking his head he started forward once more. The past was the past and those whom he had known had left him far behind, an echo of days gone by.

Headmaster Within glanced out through his window and froze in shock, graceful teacup falling from suddenly nerveless fingers to spill the amber liquid over his desk and the papers lying there. Blonde hair catching the sunlight with pale skin and a slender form, the boy strode across the courtyard. He looked up at the building, blue eyes bright in his all too familiar face and the man flinched.

Across his desk the eldest class officer hastened to wipe up the spilled tea, looking up with concern. "Sir, are you well?"

Shaking his head the man turned and, facing the young man, gave him a nod. "I am quite all right, Luther. Shall we continue?"

"Of course, sir." He looked back down at the papers he had been reading from. "And continuing the list of students in my wing, Lance Rethread, Nathaniel Risst, Christian Rook, Marcus Stettler--`

"What?" The man interrupted, sitting up suddenly and staring at him intently, "Did you say Christian Rook?"

"Yes, sir." The student looked up at him uncertainly, "Is there a problem, sir?"

"No. No problem. Not at all, just see that he has a room to himself."

Puzzlement clear in his voice, he nodded before replying, "Yes. . . sir."

* * * * *

Long curtains rippled in the breeze, sending the blonde's hair flying in a golden halo around his head as he set his possessions on one of the two beds in the room. For a brief second the room was overlaid with the image of another young man sitting on the adjoining bed, red hair and green eyes bright in the sunshine. Tears filled the smaller boy's eyes as the boy in his vision spoke, lips moving without a sound, clearly addressing him. A soft knock shook him from his brief reverie, and he turned, walking briskly to the door to pull it open and look out.

A taller young man stood there, nervously adjusting his spectacles as he peered at him with interest. "I'm Nathaniel Risst. You're new here, aren't you?"

Turning slightly, the blond studied him with half lidded eyes, "No, not really. I've been here before."

"Oh." Abashed Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck. "Excuse me then, I thought you were new. I must not have seen you before."

"It's not unheard of. And I wasn't here long before a. . . family emergency called me away."

"Oh. Well, um, what's your name?" Guileless hazel eyes watched the smaller boy as he nervously brushed brown hair back out of his face.

"Christian Rook."

"Well, welcome back I guess. Will you be coming down to dinner?" The taller boy shifted uncomfortably and took a half step back, inclining his head in inquiry.

"I don't believe I shall."

"Oh. Well. Um . . . you do realize you don't have a roommate?"

"Yes."

"No one else wants to stay in this room. Do you know why?"

He paused. "Yes."

* * * * *

Autumn sunshine streaming through the trees set the world alight with warm colors as a small boy strode into his new dorm room, the dark blue of his uniform setting off his hair and skin. A soft breeze billowed through the curtains hanging from the windows, caressing his face as he froze. Another boy lounged idly on one of the two beds before him, fire bright hair dancing about his face like the flames they revered, back turned to the door.

He must have made some inadvertent sound as he stared, stunned, at the vision before him for the boy turned his head, peering at the newcomer through the corner of his eye. "Well, hello there. I take it you're to be my roommate?"

"Uh . . . yes, sir?" the blonde flushed, uncertain as to how to address the older boy. "I'm sorry . . . I must be in the wrong form?"

"Not if you're Christian Rook." The older boy turned around completely and sat up, wrists resting on his knees, entirely at ease with himself and his surroundings. "Well, are you?"

"Yes, sir." Christian blushed and looked down, "Sorry, sir."

"Sir? Have I made such a great leap in status since I last faced the reflecting glass? I think not, dear Christian." The boy laughed merrily, the sweet sound bubbling forth from berry bright lips. "Do attend to your belongings, Christian. I swear to you this, I do not bite." Fiery locks falling over one eye, he leaned forward and peered mischievously at the flustered boy through his one visible eye, emerald sparkling in mirth. "At least not unless you ask it of me."

Christian took a half step back, "Oh!"

At this the other boy collapsed into spasm of laughter, clutching at his sides and rolling about the bed in an excess of mirth. "Oh! Oh! If only you could see your expression!"

Blushing furiously, Christian placed his bags upon his bed and set about putting away his belongings. "I must say that it is a relief I cannot."

"Is it?" The boy sat back up, running his fingers through his hair and looking down at the other boy as he tilted his head back. "Is it really. Welcome Christian Rook. Welcome to the Academy."

"My name is Lutheran. Lutheran Kjos*."

* * * * *

Golden locks falling into his eyes, Christian gazed at his reflection in the window, the cool spring evening rustling the room's curtains, sending them billowing around him in waves. A soft breath of warm air alerted him to the visitor, and he turned, tilting his head curiously. "Yes, Headmaster Within?"

The older man paused at the threshold of the room, uncertain. "Christian?"

"Yes?" The boy turned further, blinking nearly colorless lashes. Pale orbs of blue watched the man unwaveringly as he waited.

"You . . . you came back." A nervous shifting of posture and the floor creaked. "I didn't think you could . . . that you would."

"All things change, sir. All things change. And in time, one forgets." Christian turned back to the window, slender back straight. "Even those who cannot change can forget."

"How . . . how is Lutheran?" If anything, this question made the aged man more uncomfortable. "I thought you might know, I mean."

"I suppose I know at some level. But everything is so distant it is hard to tell." He turned again, facing the older man, wheat hued locks falling into his faded eyes. "Truly told, I am glad to be back."

"Glad to be back are you?" the old man echoed. "I really shouldn't wonder. It isn't my place."

"Indeed it isn't." Christian raised one pale hand, the skin nearly translucent in the sunlight, to touch the windowpanes. "But if you must know, this is where his memory lingers last."

Within swallowed. "Only his memory?"

"For now," Christian agreed. "Only his memory for now." `For now' the breeze echoed him even as the curtains rose, billowing about him in great swells. `Only his memory for now.' Within nodded once, regretfully, and left the room, the door swinging shut with finality after him.

"For now," Christian whispered, more to himself than to anyone in particular, before realizing that the man had left. A colorless gaze rested on the closed door. "Age does bring wisdom, doesn't it sir?"

Nathaniel perked up at the sight of the tow hair boy from earlier, reading alone in the library. "Christian! Christian Rook!"

The other boy looked up from the book held cradled in his hands while he nodded in greeting. "Nathaniel."

Hazel eyes studied the washed out boy with interest. "Are you interested in the history of the school too? I'm currently studying the tale of-"

"Lutheran Kjos," Christian finished softly for him.

"Yes! However did you know about him anyway? You do have his room. However do you know about him anyway? I was wondering who had told you since I'm the only one who really seems interested in him."

"I have . . . my reasons." Christian started when Nathaniel tried to peer into the book he was holding and quickly snapped it shut. "And they shall remain mine, thank you."

"Where did you find this book? I haven't seen it before!" Nathaniel studied the cover eagerly. "There aren't any yearbooks from the last year Lutheran was here!"

"It is mine." Christian leveled a steady gaze on the other, unnerving him. "A gift."

"A gift?" Nathaniel cast a doubtful look at the other boy. "From who?"

A pause. "Someone I once knew." Faded blue eyes softened, shifting away as the book was carefully tucked under his arm.

"Oh. You'll have to forgive me for being so rude." The other boy blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. "I didn't realize."

"It is all right." Christian turned and strolled towards the door, tossing one last comment over his shoulder as he went. "You couldn't have known him."

Nathaniel watched him go in silence, consternation furrowing his brow. "Couldn't have known who?"

* * * * *

An echo of times gone by.

Lutheran placed one hand on the smaller boy's shoulder, blinking when he started. "Christian? Are you all right?"

The blonde boy blushed, cheeks tinting pink. "Um . . . yes."

"You're lying!" the other boy crowed, flame hued locks dancing about his face. "Liar, liar, liar!"

"I am not!" Christian muttered hotly. "Why can't you just mind your own business?"

Lutheran rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I have to do something with all of my spare time. Besides . . ." He winked, mischief dancing in his eyes. "You are rather cute!"

"I am not!" The blonde boy hastily backed away from the other, blue eyes wide in consternation. "You can hardly be serious!"

Red locks flying wildly about his face, eyes narrowed with some untold emotion, Lutheran gave him a sharp look that contrasted with his normal, buoyant behavior. "I may be or I may not. You will never know; that is certain."

Christian paused mid-step, uncertain as to how he had rattled the other. "L- Lutheran? I did not mean to hurt you." No response came from the other boy who turned his back, slight form tense as he looked out the window, jaw clenched tight and trembling. "Lutheran?"

"You may go about your business," the older boy rasped, voice strained.

"Lutheran?" Christian took a tentative step forward, one hand reaching out to brush the other's shoulder, drawing back when Lutheran flinched. "Lutheran? I did not mean to hurt you!" No response acknowledged his half-voiced plea. Hesitantly daring the nickname he had seen on a letter addressed to the other boy, he spoke again. "'Theran?"

"What?" Flame hued locks lifted in the slight wind coming in the window to form a glowing halo around the boy's head. He did not turn to address Christian and shrank away as the boy approached.

"I did not mean to hurt you." Christian reached out to rest one slender hand on the other boy's back between tense shoulders.

"You already said that."

Christian let out a sigh of pure frustration. "I was only a bit startled. I did not mean anything against you or your . . . preferences."

"What do YOU know about my `preferences'?" Lutheran rounded on him, eyes dark with fury. "Who told you anything about me?"

The blonde shrank back in consternation and no little alarm. "Lutheran!" he squeaked, voice high with fear.

The other boy shoved him up against the wall, overwhelming him with ease and pinning his hands to his sides. "Tell. Me."

"Nobody told me anything! I guessed it myself!" Golden locks flying, he tossed his head and let out a whimper as the pressure on his wrists increased.

Lutheran gave a short gasp, eyes dark and unreadable with some emotion, and released the other, taking a step back and turning away. His face averted, he spoke softly. "Leave me."

Trembling, Christian backed away with wide eyes. "Lutheran?"

"Leave me." An unspoken plea lurked beneath the words. The smaller boy swallowed harshly and fled, the words echoing after him.

`Leave me.'

* * * * *

Soft footsteps echoed on the wooden floor of the room, fading away into silence. Christian didn't look up, his head bowed, eyes stinging with unshed tears. The whisper of far away laughter drifted through the room, and he sighed, head lowering further.

A soft murmur escaped him as he sighed. "Lutheran." Blue eyes, if anything paler than before, gazed down at the hands clasped in his lap. "Lutheran. I came to find you and find that you have yet left me behind again."

The sudden rap of someone at his door startled him, and he looked up, calling out softly. "Come."

The door swung open, throwing light from the hallway across the small room, pooling between the two beds. Nathaniel stuck his head in and blinked, lifting a candle to see. "Christian?"

"Here. By the bed." Lifting his head further, the youth sat up, nearly translucent in the moonlight.

"There you are!" Nathaniel took another step into the room, visibly relaxing. "Good heavens, must it be so dark in here? The room already speaks of those dead and gone; your preference for shadows only deepens the feeling."

"Does it bother you?"

Something about the odd tone of the questions caught Nathaniel's attention and he answered warily, eyes narrowed. "Not at all. I simply state a fact."

"Perhaps I wish to encourage the mood."

"Why ever would you want to do a thing like that?" the other boy asked in consternation. "The mood may not bother me, but it is depressing and hardly an atmosphere I should wish to live in."

"This room is mine." The blonde boy's answer was soft and hard edged. "It has waited for me to return."

"This room was yours before too?" Sudden speculation clouded hazel eyes and the other boy took a fearful step back. "I can't help but wonder if I have seen you before."

"You have not," Christian answered sharply.

"I have!" Nathaniel retorted. "You were the other boy in the picture!"

"What picture?" The blonde boy lunged, wraithlike, to his feet and caught the other's lapels, lifting him off his feet with unholy strength. "Tell me!"

"In the yearbook!" Nathaniel gasped, catching the other's wrists as he fought to breath. "From the year before Lutheran died. At the very end of the book there are some pictures from the next year and you're in one of them, sitting next to him, outside. On the fountain."

"With a book in my lap," Christian finished softly. "So you DO know Lutheran! I thought as much from your words earlier!" Nathaniel grinned at him. "Were you friends?"

Christian released him and turned away quietly. "Perhaps."

"Were you more than friends?"

A sharp look was his sole reward. "Indeed we may have been."

"But you've hardly aged at all!" The brown haired boy stared at him intently. "You're hardly older at all! It has been four years, are you perhaps younger in the picture than you at first may seem?"

"Perhaps," the pale boy agreed softly.

"Were you there-"

"-when he died? I was there in time to hold him as he took his last breaths." This admission seemed to draw silence taut across the room.

At last, the taller boy broke it with a few soft words. "Was he?"

"Murdered? He was."

"By who? No one will say. The teachers all discourage my curiosity." Nathaniel's guileless eyes met crystalline blue orbs for a long moment before the other answered instead with a question.

"Tell me first, why you are inquiring about him?"

Nathaniel shifted uncomfortably. "I feel . . . drawn to him. Like someone is still here and still searching."

"Do you?" A heavy lidded eye gazed at him through wheat hued locks.

"Yes. Now you tell me, who murdered him?"

That tow head lowered, and a soft sigh escaped the slighter boy. "The other students."

"Because of who he was?"

"Because of what he was." The correction drew silence as a shroud over them as Christian rose and, in doing so, left the room.

The soft snick of the door swinging shut startled Nathaniel, and he leapt to his feet. "Wait!"

"Wait," echoed the room around him.

Wild eyed, he whirled. "Who's there?"

"Who?" Soft echoes of Nathaniel's own words answered him.

Sudden comprehension filled hazel eyes and the boy took in a sharp breath. "You're Lutheran. That's why Christian was in here. He wasn't alone."

"Lutheran," the room agreed softly. "Wasn't alone."

"Why are you still here? Are you searching?"

"Here. Christian searching."

His eyes widened in shock. "Yes. Now I understand. Christian is . . ."

"Yes," the room hissed back at him, and for a moment the visage of a flame haired lad crouched on one bed. "Yessssss."

And echoes died unanswered.

Christian stared out over the countryside from the roof, eyes shadowed. "Lutheran . . ."

* * * * *

Another moment, another eternity away, another figure stared over the same countryside, a few paces away from where Christian now stood.

"Lutheran?"

The Christian of the past strode up behind the figure, young eyes wide. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Well, for not meaning to hurt me, you certainly did a good enough job." Flame hued locks lifted in a phantom wind as he gazed ahead with clouded green eyes.

"I . . . I know I cannot take my words back, but can you at least forgive me? I truly did not mean harm to you." Christian took another tentative step forward, uncertain words tumbling from his lips. "I do not understand why they upset you so."

"And I am not likely to enlighten you." The other boy turned angrily. "Very well. You are forgiven. Now leave me peace."

The blond stumbled back in surprise. "Lutheran?" Blue eyes widened impossibly as his heel caught on the edge of the roof, throwing him backwards into space. "LUTHERAN!"

The red haired boy made a frantic lunge and caught the other's collar, sending him slamming into the side of the building before hanging suspended over the open air. Christian reached up and caught the other's forearms in a death grip, terror in his eyes. "Don't let me fall! I beg of thee!"

"Don't be a fool!" the other retorted in annoyance as he easily pulled the slight boy back onto the rooftop. "You hardly weigh a thing. `Tis nary a matter at all to pull you back up." He held Christian upright as the smaller boy trembled, shaky limbs uncertain. "Chin up and smile."

Christian swallowed thickly and forced a thin smile past his fear. "T-Thank you, Lutheran. I am greatly in your debt."

"Nonsense, I'd help you anytime." So saying he brushed a light kiss across the blonde boy's brow and turned, vanishing down the roof's stairwell.

Christian stared after him in shock, one hand raised beseechingly. "Lutheran?"

* * * * *

A soft spring wind swirled around the rooftop, the first primroses scenting the air with their fragrance. Several weeks had passed since Christian's arrival, and little had changed. The pale boy avoided the other students, refusing to attend any of the classes, spending most of his time in solitude in his room. And the headmaster would do nothing, neither acknowledging the other student's concerns nor answering their questions. The teachers, like the headmaster, refused to speak of the boy in any light.

Despite his best efforts, the boy eluded Nathaniel, seeming to have a sixth sense for where and when he would appear. The dark haired boy could only watch as, time and time again, the other slipped away, leaving his questions unanswered. And indeed he had questions.

Twice since the day he first heard Lutheran, he had visited the room, waiting until Christian was outside, wandering through the garden, as he was wont to do. Twice he had queried the elusive spirit, searching for answers, but the boy would do nothing, answering his questions with naught but further questions.

Today he returned to the room to seek answers to his questions. Nathaniel pushed the door open slowly, glancing about for any sign of Christian, despite the fact he had followed him down to the gardens earlier to ensure his absence. Slipping inside, he took a deep breath and addressed the room at large. "Lutheran."

"Lutheran," the room echoed back softly in acknowledgement.

"You know why I have come, what my questions are. Why will you not answer me?"

"Not answer you."

"Why? I only seek to help Christian, but I dare not ask him what I could ask you! It is not my place to ask of him. Why will you not aid me?" Nathaniel glared into the surrounding darkness.

The soft outlines of a boy lounging on one of the bed could be seen, soft flame hued locks falling about fine features. The boy's lips did not move as he answered, remaining curved into a mocking smile. "Only seek to help Christian. Not your place to ask of me. Will not aid."

A sudden hunch narrowed hazel eyes. "Will not or can not?"

"Can not." The boy sat upright, running long fingers through his locks, eyes sad and smile fading.

"You can only repeat what I have said!" Comprehension bled into his eyes. "Unless I speak the answer myself you can do nothing!"

"Nothing," the boy agreed sorrowfully.

"Will you answer me if you can?" Nathaniel hesitantly sat on the other bed, folding on leg up beneath him. The other boy copied the movement, becoming more solid and less an apparition.

"If can."

The window curtains rose and fell with an unfelt wind, billowing about the other boy as Nathaniel spoke. "Christian searches for something. Does he search for you? He will not answer me."

"Searches for me."

"Has he seen you? Can he see you? Or does he just feel your presence?"

"Presence."

"But why does he search for you? I think you may have been close, perhaps even lovers, but that isn't the reason he searches! He does nothing but search! He can do nothing but search!" Nathaniel rose to his feet in agitation, hazel eyes flashing with ire. "Why does he search?"

"Isn't the reason he searches. Why does he search?" Bright green eyes watched him, shadows in their depths as the form lost solidity.

"You don't know, do you? No one knows but him." Mahogany locks fell into the boy's face as he sighed in resignation. "No one knows but him. And he will not answer."

"No one knows but him." The last was a bare thread of sound, the curtains falling still and silent, unmoving.

"Lutheran," the boy whispered sadly in the silence. "You know naught more than I."

"For what does he search?"

Flame hued locks dancing at the edge of his vision, Christian paused in the darkened hallway of his dormitory, the silence weighing on him. "Lutheran?" He turned and looked back, fey features haunted as another time superceded the present.

* * * * *

Another Christian ran down the hallway, panting as he sought to catch up with the swiftly moving boy. "Lutheran!"

The flame haired boy paused, one hand resting on the handle to their door. "What is it that you wish of me?"

"Only an answer to a question. Please sir! Don't forsake me!" The pale haired boy caught one tense shoulder, turning him to face him. "I meant you no harm! Why must you leave? I hold no grudge against you." Indigo depths pleaded with the older boy.

Lutheran shrugged the hand off, spine stiff. "I hold no grudge to you nor you to me, but it is necessary that I leave." He pulled open the door before entering, the smaller boy following behind him.

"But why?" Christian captured one slender hand and held it tight, refusing to let the other continue. "Why must you leave? What have I done?"

"Nothing," the taller answered, green eyes grave as he turned to study the younger boy. "Nothing you have done causes this. Rather, I have caused this with my love."

"For me?" the boy dared, breath catching in his chest and eyes achingly vulnerable.

"For you. There are those who would seek to kill me for that love. And so, I can do nothing but leave you in what safety there is to offer."

"You refuse me-"

"I refuse nothing. You have offered nothing, and I can accept nothing." Wrenching his wrist free, Lutheran turned away. "They would kill you as well as me if they knew of this, innocent as it may be."

Christian turned away, eyes wounded, and nodded. "So mote it be."

* * * * *

And the Christian of the present closed his eyes against the pain that the scene provoked even as he stood there. "So mote it be. Indeed, so mote it be." He let out a soft sigh, continuing down the hallway to his room, and swinging the door open, eyes widening in shock at the scene before him.

Nathaniel looked up guiltily from where he sat on Christian's bed. "Christian! I didn't expect-"

"Me to be back so soon? A pity. You were just leaving, I believe." The boy's tones were glacial, and his eyes hardened to pale blue chips of ice. He moved to one side to allow the other to leave. "If you will."

"My apologies. I came to speak to Lutheran." Nathaniel offered the words as penance, weak though it may be.

"Lutheran is dead." The boy's tones were final, unyielding.

"He is. And you are searching. I thought he might know why."

The other's demeanor softened into wistfulness. "Does he know?"

"No."

"Ah, so it is neither. I know not either." His head fell forward, pale locks falling into his eyes. "I search and I know not why."

"Nobody does."

"But if you search you must have a reason." Nathaniel sought some sort of answer from the pale boy, cautiously reaching out to catch his shoulder, shifting his weight in preparation to touch the other boy. "Christian . . ."

Hazel eyes widened impossibly as Nathaniel fell forward, mouth working soundlessly in shock. Unable to regain his balance, he continued to fall -

Straight through the other boy he fell, his hand finding no tangible resistance.

Crumpling to the floor, he flipped over onto his back and stared at the other, a stunned expression dull across his features. "Christian . . ."

The other stared at him in equal shock, blue eyes fathomless. "It . . . it isn't possible. That's not possible. There is no way that it could be! It can not be!"

"But it is." Slowly, the other rose to his feet, reaching out and passing his hands through the other's insubstantial form. "It is. You . . . you aren't solid. You aren't . . ." His eyes were sorrowful. "You aren't even alive."

"Not. Alive?" Confused, Christian sank to the floor, head bowed and face shadowed. "But how can this be? I speak. I exist. Don't I?"

"Not alive," the room echoed back at him, the faint specter of Lutheran appearing behind him, gently wrapping the confused boy in his arms. "Not alive."

"Lutheran!" Christian craned his neck to peer at the other boy. "But why now? I couldn't find you before. I didn't even know if you were here."

"You didn't know." Flame hued locks fell to shadow the other's face.

"He couldn't tell me the answer to my question because he didn't know! He couldn't understand why you were searching because he thought you knew . . ."

"That I am dead," Christian finished numbly. "And I couldn't find him before because I thought I was still alive. But I don't remember -"

But then he did.

* * * * *

A Lutheran of a different time whirled, standing defensively in front of Christian as someone slammed into the door throwing it open. Dozens of faces in the hallway, hatred in their eyes, they surged forward and pulled Lutheran away from the smaller boy.

"Lutheran!" A terrified, faltering cry. Silence was the boy's answer as the first blows began to fall. "Lutheran!" The taller boy fell to his knees, blood streaming into his eyes and blinding him. Flame hued locks fell lankly about his face, dark with blood, straggling into his mouth.

"Christian! Run!" One pale hand raised in a beseeching manner as further blows rained down on him, driving him onto his hands and knees, striking him with punishing force.

"LUTHERAN!"

The older boy screamed, falling, hands curled beneath him, suddenly numb from the waist down. He scrabbled helplessly against the floor as his legs refused to respond to his urgings.

And they kept coming.

Terrified, Christian backed up against the wall, hands raised in defense. "What are you doing? Stop it! Please! You're killing him!"

The boy closest to him grabbed his wrist and bent his hand back, forcing him to his knees, blue eyes tearing with pain. "You think? Sick men like him should not live."

The second, in a kinder tone, reached out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, sharp contrast to the pain in his wrist. "Has he brought forth any of his ideas to you, lad?"

"Ideas?" Christian echoed in confusion. "What are you talking about? He has done nothing! Leave him alone!" He lunged forward and caught Lutheran up in his arms, holding him tenderly as his last breaths bubbled on his lips, green eyes bright with pain.

And then he was gone, his body a mere husk, an empty shell.

There was only a glimpse of the fear in the second's eyes before blows rained down on him, unrelenting. He reeled with the pain, lip split and bleeding, as blow after blow rained down on his head-

And then there was only darkness. Cool and comforting. But alone. So alone. Confused and lonely, he began to search, not understanding, forgetting, what had happened-

Springtime was heavy in the air as he stood on the path.

* * * * *

The Christian of the present looked up at Nathaniel. "No. I do remember. I remember everything. And I think I can answer your questions now."

"Answer," Lutheran sighed, fading slightly, his form loosing solidity.

Nathaniel leaned forward eagerly. "What can you tell me? Are you dead?"

"Yes, truly told. I am dead. I fell the night Lutheran did, mere minutes after he did. But I was confused. I was so afraid that I walled away the memory of my own death and forgot about it."

"Forgot about it," Lutheran agreed.

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "So you were searching for what you had forgotten. Only you couldn't remember it until tonight."

"Had forgotten." Lutheran tilted his head, a pale beam of sunlight falling across . . . and through . . . his features.

"I'm tired." Christian bowed his head slightly, exhaustion heavy in his features. "I'm cold and tired . . . so tired."

"Tired." The barest whisper of sound as Lutheran slowly faded from view.

"Sleep then," Nathaniel answered softly, features sorrowful. "You've earned your rest."

"I was searching." Slowly Christian's already pale form lost substance and color.

"Searching?"

"Searching for myself."

Nathaniel stared dully at the space the two boys had occupied mere minutes before, eyes shadowed. There was a soft knock at the door behind him and it swung open, soft, crisp footsteps ringing across the floor. "Christian?"

"He's gone," the boy answered, unmoving. "He's finally gone."

Headmaster Within took another step forward and placed one aged hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's finally gained his rest?"

"Yes."

"I take it you saw Lutheran. He had been waiting for Christian to return." The man knelt beside him, face averted.

"Yes."

"Were they . . ." A hesitation. "Were they happy?"

"Yes."

"Why did he stay so long?" The sorrow in the Headmaster's voice drew Nathaniel's eyes to his face, the features lined with worry.

"He didn't realize he was dead. He simply-

". . . Didn't realize."

* Kjos is pronounced chose.