Chapter Fifteen: Union of the Soul

How can I be so despairing / When you are so full of joy / How can I be so laser-like / And you so passively content / How can I bleed my sorrows / And you hide your accomplishments / Why must I wallow in the mire / When you fly above it all / I struggle with a word of truth / But you would wither if a lie passed your teeth / How can I be me / And you be you / It is the union that makes us whole / Separately in control of each other

Union of the Soul
Kevin Max

----------

Room 31844-B was a cozy place. It wasn't furnished with much--there was a bed and nightstand, a dresser on one side of the room, and an empty desk against the other. It was decent enough for any Wendaurian loyalist to stay in.

Or an angel.

Oscar was sitting at the desk now, the small Port-A-Brain pocket computer opened, his face bathed in the light of the screen. He was connected to the computer by his cords and was typing away on his keypad. It had been the only thing left to do this past few weeks. Again, Oscar was never one to complain about minor frustrations, and attempted to find ways to amuse himself during the long days.

Roughly put, he was BORED!

Since Her Majesty and Princess Skai had reclaimed their birthrights, the Megiddo fortress had been abuzz with business. While Windsong handled royal affairs and dealt with important ritual details of which Oscar had absolutely no knowledge of, Oscar himself was forced to wait on contact from Miriam about the others. Her last call was about a week and a half ago--and the connection was difficult to maintain, mainly because of the vast distance but partly because Oscar's connection to Miriam was the least strongest compared to Jon and Vincit's. She had been able to report of the group's victory on Earth, and how Gauss was currently on tour rallying support against Joel--an unorthodox method, but ludicrously effective. She said both Vinny and Jon were on their way to Megiddo, and also expressed a little concern about Gauss' condition, but Oscar dismissed it as Gauss simply being himself.

Things were happening as smoothly as could be expected, and Oscar was a little surprised at how easily victorious they all were.

A little too easily, he thought from time to time.

It was difficult to eat. Difficult to sleep. Difficult to do nothing, because no matter what he did, when his mind wandered, he thought about one thing: Joel. What was he doing? What was he GOING to do? And when would he do it?

Any possible answers were pre-empted when there was a knock at the door and Ariston poked his head inside, "Pardon my intrusion. Mind if I come in?"

Even before Oscar gave an affirmative, Aris was already stepping into the room. He walked behind Oscar and looked over a winged shoulder, "Whuzzat?"

"Flight program," Oscar mumbled, not looking up from the screen, "Something I was working on a few months ago, decided to start back on it again, try and finish it."

"Uh-huh," Aris nodded, seemingly uninterested, "Fancy yourself as a pilot, do ya?"

"No, engineer," Oscar responded, "I can fly... just not exceptionally. Technical what-not is my specialty."

"I can see that," Aris nodded, looking around the bare room, "Listen, some of us are getting together for a little sparring and I was wondering if you'd be interested in joining us?"

Oscar stopped what he was doing and paused for a moment before returning to his work, "No thanks."

Aris looked at him with questioning eyes, "Ya'sure? I happen to know you've been cooped up in here for a good week or so--wouldn't hurt to get out, get a little exercise... spread your wings, if you will."

Oscar ignored the remark. "I'm fine," was the only response. More tapping on the keypad.

"Suit yourself," Aris shrugged before turning to leave. He took one more look at Oscar before stepping through the door, closing it behind him.

Oscar continued typing on the pad for a few seconds after Aris had left, then paused, thinking. He suddenly saved the program, disconnected himself from the Port-A-Brain, and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair. He opened the door to see Aris standing there, arms crossed, grinning.

"Couldn't help yourself, could ya?"

Oscar smirked and nodded, "C'mon, lead the way."

----------

Sparring was nothing new. SURTR soldiers, being bored with most of the amenities offered by their organization, tended to lean towards other forms of "entertainment"--which SURTR encouraged completely. Waywardness bred prosperity, in their eyes. A group of about two dozen soldiers stood together in one of Meggido's domed courtyard's, forming a circle.

"Alright, bud, just take it easy," Aris said, standing behind Oscar, "I know David looks like a threat, but for someone like yourself, he should be a pushover."

Oscar twirled the wooden pole in his hand, "I'll be fine, I'm just worried I might hurt HIM."

Aris barked a laugh, causing a couple of his fellow comrades to look his direction, "If you worry about that, you're likely to get hurt yourself! Just go out there and give us a good show."

"FIGHT!"

The match started. Shadowscorcher David Samsa moved forward, twirling two short wooden sticks in his hands. Oscar moved out to join him, himself in a defensive position. The crowd of SURTRs started to cheer their comrade on. They expected a very short show, but still, it was entertainment.

Samsa moved first, spinning forward and bringing his right arm down hard. Oscar dodged out of the way and immediately blocked the second attack, then dodged the third, parried the fourth, jumped the fifth, and leapt out of the way for a double stick lunge. David continued his onslaught, and the angel managed to block and avoid every attack. After five minutes, the small audience was in an uproar. Samsa was a favorite among his colleagues, but the matches rarely lasted long enough for him to deliver his best attacks. This time was shaping up to be more of a challenge--and more of a show for the onlookers.

The crowd grew as more showed up, hearing quickly spreading news that Samsa and 'that angel' were going at it. David continued, using a couple of patented techniques that were sure to be real crowd pleasers. They yelled with enthusiasm when he executed his move, and they applauded with excitement when Oscar managed to avoid the attack.

Minutes later, David was amazed to see his opponent still standing. Despite being a little winded, Oscar was feeling perfectly fit. He heard somebody yell his name and he looked over to see who it was.

"C'mon!" Aris yelled, "Now's your chance! Go for the offensive!"

Oscar nodded and turned back to David and was nearly kicked in the chin. David was refusing to give Oscar a moment to fight back, keeping him on the defensive. He really didn't expect what happened next. Something powerful welled up from deep within Oscar, and he suddenly brought forth a risky counterattack, immediately blocked an attack to the head, then countered yet again, and suddenly, the angel was on the offensive and the SURTR officer was being forced back.

Oscar caused David to break off. He took a breather and twirled the long pole expertly in his hand, then resumed his attack. The feeling was with him--a familiar force he had felt many times before. He moved forward to attack, faked to the left, twisted to the right and was suddenly behind Samsa, who rolled out of the way and came up in a defensive crouch.

Oscar saw through his movement and brought the rod around at a different angle, causing Samsa to flip backwards from crouching to a standing position. He didn't have time to rest, as Oscar was upon him once again, deftly swinging the giant pole, giving David little time to react.

Samsa countered and started his attacks once again. He was now attacking with a greater ferocity than before, and it looked as if Oscar was slipping under the constant barrage. He suddenly gave an impressive display of speed, running around Samsa before continuing his attacks yet again. If David felt worried by this sudden turn of the tables, he didn't show it. Oscar's exterior was also projecting a cool and calm image. To him, the battle was in slow motion, the stick an extension of himself, and the sound of the crowd was drowned out by his own beating heart. The force within him seemed to suddenly strengthen in this moment, and things changed.

A quick attack caused David to trip backwards to the ground, and he was forced to go on a full defensive, unable to move away from the angel's attacks. Oscar could no longer see David anymore. He was completely unaware of the crowd. Instead of holding the sparring stick, he was now brandishing his own sword, and before him lay Joel, worry etched on his face, for he was fighting a losing battle, and death was imminent.

In that moment, a voice spoke to Oscar:

"Cease from anger. Forsake wrath. Do not fret, for it only causes harm."

There was a loud crack as both of Samsa's sticks were snapped in two by the fierce attack.

"Cease from anger, and forsake wrath. Do not fret--it only causes harm."

Oscar brought his stick up once more, ready to finish off his foe.

"STOP YOUR ANGER--IT ONLY CAUSES HARM!"

The realization suddenly hit him and Oscar paused, breathing heavily. Suddenly, he heard a loud crack and the world turned white, and when he opened his eyes, he was on the ground, yards away from David, who was gearing up to shoot another lightning bolt at him. With a ringing in his ears, Oscar quickly focused his inner energy and managed to deflect the lightning strike. The bolt ricocheted off into the crowd, barely missing a nearby Mi-Go.

The soldiers was surprised by this turn of events. Spell casting was not forbidden in sparring matches, but the suddenness and ferocity of David's attack was unexpected. Samsa didn't like to lose.

Oscar leapt out of the way of the second bolt and rolled sideways to a crouching position. He had nearly called forth his sword when David attacked yet again, this time jumping half the distance and throwing another bolt in Oscar's direction in midair. Oscar managed to deflect the attack, but not completely, and he was thrown backwards into a few bystanders, who quickly backed away to avoid being indirectly hit by what would surely be Samsa's finishing attack.

Before the bolt even left his hands, the atmosphere seemed to darken and suddenly grow dense. From where Oscar was on the ground, a mist seemed to gather. A spooky sensation fell upon those present, and a voice spoke softly through the air, saying:

"Arm me with strength, make my way perfect, make my feet like that of a deer, and place me on high."

David looked back towards Oscar and watched as the fog seemed to gather and spin until it suddenly took the shape of a deer. A proud stag, standing tall, with a large set of horns. It's cold gaze rested upon David, who's lightning bolt immediately vanished at the sight of the deer. The crowd was silent, and reality seemed to pause. The sound of silence grew, slowly at first, then rapidly, sounding like white noise, growing louder and louder and at the point when it was almost too much to stand, reality resumed, and the misty stag seemed to explode and disappear as Oscar launched through it, sword drawn, bearing down on Samsa.

Shocked by the attack, David jumped out of the way, towards the crowd's edge, as Oscar brought his sword down through the space the Shadowscorcher had once occupied. David produced a quick bolt of lightning and threw it at the advancing angel, who immediately swung his sword one-handedly at the bolt, knocking it up into the air where it exploded. The light was in Oscar's eyes once again, but this time, it seemed more transparent, as if he could see through the whiteness instead of being blinded by it. And his actions, the way he moved, were precise and accurate--they appeared as if he were not moving solely on his own.

That's when guards of the Wendaeurian army showed up. Oscar and David's brawl had brought their attention, and seeing the two in the midst of battle, the guards attempted to part the crowd and break up the fight, but miscommunication and disagreements between them and the SURTR soldiers started an all out brawl, an unusual turn of events. The atmosphere seemed to get thicker, the sky darker. The sound of crashing metal, the occasional magical element, and the yells of men and fungus soon followed. And in the center of it all, moving in a deadly kind of dance, Shadowscorcher Samsa and Oscar Angeles continued their own sparring match turned battle. While the crowd was in an unusual uproar, the two continued to focus solely on each other, light and darkness clashing in that struggle as old as man.

The chaos seemed to soak into David, and he into it. Samsa suddenly sneered and said, "For the dragon!" Then ran at Oscar, lightning coursing up and down his arms.

Oscar closed his eyes and whispered: "For MY King."

The tension snapped and the density surrounding everyone suddenly lifted. Silence reined in the courtyard. Soldiers released their grips on each other and turned to look at what had caused things to change so dramatically.

Samsa lay on the ground, face up, surprise frozen on his face. Standing right above him was Oscar, wings spread to their full length, sword pointed directly at David's throat. The two were frozen in place, David lying on the ground, Oscar above him wearing a look no one could clearly read. The crowd slowly realized what this meant: the angel had won.

"Now, THAT was something!" Ariston exclaimed, standing near the edge of the crowd. Everyone in the room turned to look at him. Aris was grinning widely, "That's the show I'm talking about!"

People slowly began to come back to their senses. David looked at Oscar and saw the solid, rigid expression soften, the light in his eyes dim. Oscar's body relaxed, and he pulled his sword back from David's throat, still holding it at his side. He stepped back, his wings slowly folding in, and the sword in his hands went transparent and vanished. Then, feeling both surprised and worried at the same time, he walked quickly into the crowd and left the bruised and battered Samsa on the ground.

----------

Flashback, Salyra Ducat System B

Joel could feel the cold, hard steel of the table against his back. The straps that held him tightly against it had been his only saving grace when the ship had crashed. He had been out for about an hour, but now he was awake, and left to his own devises, he was slowly attempting escape. He was far too powerful a being to be held prisoner by these misfits. He would soon be free.

And then HE walked in. The ugliest son-of-a-bitch in the world--the one he wanted dead more than ANY of those fools. Oscar ignored Joel's gaze completely. He shrugged his coat off and stretched his wings. To Joel, it looked as if he were actually taunting him for the time he had tried to rip Oscar's wings off. The very idea made his blood boil with hatred.

Oscar continued to ignore him as he walked over to the table and tightened the straps. It didn't hurt, but nearly two hours of loosening the straps had been undone with the flick of a wrist. Joel was furious, but he didn't show it.

"You want something to eat?"

Joel blinked, and turned to look at Oscar, "Huh?"

"I asked you if you wanted--"

"I heard you the first time, prick, I just don't understand. I wouldn't give you shit in a bowl if you were dying of hunger--what's your deal?"

"Forget about it," Oscar said, turning to leave, "You look fine to me."

Joel struggled against the bonds, "Hey. HEY! I'm hungry! I want some FOOD!"

Oscar stopped, then walked over to one of the storage hatches and started scrounging through the food packets.

"I'll have an Angus Steak, bloody red, and a bottle of your finest wine--"

"You won't have anything in a minute if you don't shut up," Oscar interrupted.

"Hmmphf. Some service," muttered Joel.

There was silence for a few moments. The only sound was that of Oscar rustling through the packets of rations. He opened some of the expired packets--he'd feed Joel this stuff--no sense in wasting perfectly good food.

"Hey," Joel said. Oscar didn't respond.

"Hey!" a little louder this time. Without turning, Oscar replied, "What is it?"

"I've got a question for ya--"

"I'm not interested in any of your games, Joel."

Joel shook his head, "No, really, I got a serious question--lemme ask you: what do you remember before all this. You know? Before all this outer space crap, you remember life before then?"

"I remember you trying to kill me," Oscar replied.

"Yeah, YEAH!" Joel said, getting excited, "That's what I'm talking about! Oh, man, good times, good times... there were no dragons or beast-men or whatever--it was just you and me for the longest time, man, you and me."

Oscar didn't say anything.

"Hey, you remember that one time, when we got into that fight near the mountain, and halfway through the battle, we made it explode?!"

Oscar stopped shuffling through the packages of food, "You made that volcano erupt. People in the villages died."

"Ohhhhh YEAH! THAT was a GREAT TIME!" Joel said, getting excited again, "And that one time, all the way in the Orient--you remember that fight? Remember the kid?! And the old man?!"

"Yeah," Oscar said quietly, "Yeah, I remember."

Joel was smiling, nearly laughing, "Holy crap, man, that was hilarious! The look on their faces when I called that storm of bale fire down! I was aiming for you, but it was so huge it took out the entire town as well! Oh, wow, what a day that was... pity they didn't live--"

"SHUT UP! Just shut up!" he was choked up now, and couldn't say anything after that.

"Hey, lemme ask you one more question: what do you remember BEFORE then?"

The question hit Oscar like a bullet between the eyes, and he got very still. He didn't dare turn to look at Joel.

"You don't need to answer, because I know: you don't remember a thing. There isn't memory one in that brain of yours as to how things were before--and do you... know... why?"

Oscar slowly turned and looked at Joel. The demon continued, "You see, ever since I came into power, I've done a little research on my past and it turns out you and I had a lot more in common than you'd think. I'd be more than willing to tell you--and why? Because the knowledge we share will bring us closer together than ever imagined! We will be all powerful, do you hear me?! We'll be able to stand up against all the forces of the universe and we will RULE! I can help you, Oscar. I know EVERYTHING!"

Oscar remained silent. Joel knew what would happen next. Oscar would ask at what price, Joel would say his freedom. Oscar would refuse, but he would listen, just because his own desire to know about his past, to know who he is, why he is, and for what purpose, the curiosity would be overwhelming and he WOULD agree.

Oscar slowly stepped over to the table, Joel with a look of anticipation on his face. And Oscar answered...

... by shoving a peanut butter bar into Joel's mouth. Joel's face registered with shock, then anger, and he struggled furiously against his bonds, yelling behind the sticky peanut butter.

"You don't know me," Oscar replied silently, and left the room, turning off the lights, leaving the angry Joel in the dark.

As the angel walked to the front of the ship, he felt a great sadness sweep over him. For what he could remember doing before that fateful day he met Vinny, the wrongs he had committed, he felt deep regret over. He crawled into one of the bunks, folded his wings around him, and silently cried himself to sleep.

End Flashback

----------

The sleek, black SWK fighter moved rapidly through the emptiness. Inside, Jon and Vincit were passing time as the autopilot headed for Meggido: Windsong, Skai, and Oscar's last known location during Miriam's 'conference call' with Jon and Oscar a week or so ago. With their mission complete, and nowhere else to yet travel to, the two decided to head into the Wendauerian stronghold to rendezvous with their friends.

"Brother," Jon swiveled in the chair, "We are being summoned."

Vincit got up from one of the bunks in the back of the ship and walked up to where Jon was sitting. Looking at some information on a screen, he turned to a panel and flipped a few switches. Nothing. he flipped a few more. Still nothing...

"Which one of these buttons--"

"Permit me," Jon said, flipping the correct combination of switches to receive the hail.

"Rogue Schwarzwyrmkommando: identify yourself immediately or you will be incinerated."

Vinny looked at Jon, "How's that for a welcome? Not even a countdown, just immediate incineration."

Jon shook his head, "This is Jon Krigsley of the Seraphic Order--"

"That's 'SAINT' Jon, to you, bub!" Vinny interrupted.

Jon looked at Vinny, who was grinning, then continued, "And Vincit Omnibus, allies of her majesty Queen Windsong, requesting entry to the fortress of Meggido."

There was silence for a moment before the radio started again, "Ship scans register positive ID. You are clear to dock. Welcome to the Meggido, St. Jon and Mr. Omnibus."

"I would rather you not mention that," Jon said.

"What? The saint thing?" Vinny grinned, "C'mon, wear it proud, brother, wear it proud. It's well deserved."

Jon had to smile, "Thou art in a VERY good mood, indeed."

"You can tell?" Vincit grinned as the ship continued on its course.

----------

"What do you MEAN, I can't see Her Majesty?" Vinny growled. He was no longer in a good mood. His animal-like snarl was enough to set the guard on edge at least.

"I-I mean, sir, is t-that she... that is, I mean... Her Majesty, she... doesn't want to be disturbed."

Vinny got right up into the guard's face, "Tell. Her. I'm. Here... NOW."

"Uhh... yah... sure," the guard said, and he quickly backed away and walked down the corridor and around the corner. Vincit was getting a little tired of this--he was surprised none of the Wendaurean guards had even told Wyn he was here--or why Oscar hadn't at least told her they were on their way. What was the deal that she couldn't come and greet him and Jon on their return--did she have any idea what they had done back in the Silberworld?! And what was taking that guard so long--

"Vincit Omnibus?"

Vinny turned to see a lavishly dressed gentleman standing before him. The man had slicked back hair and a pencil thin mustache. His opulent outfit clashed wildly. The guard was standing nervously behind him.

"Just Vinny," Vincit replied, a tone of impatience in his voice.

The gentlemen simply nodded slightly, "Her Majesty requests your presence in her chambers--"

"'Bout damn time," Vinny interrupted, muttering under his breath, "Lead the way, Liberachi."

The gentleman, seemingly not at all phased by Vinny's comments, strode purposefully down the corridor, leaving a relieved guard back at his post. Vincit followed the man back down to the end of the corridor and turned a corner, heading to a large set of double doors. When they reached them, the man held up a hand to signal Vinny to wait and stepped inside. He was about to protest when he heard a voice from the other side of the door.

"Your Majesty: may I present to you, Vincit Omnibus."

Vinny knew a cue when he heard one and pushed the door open fully. His heart leapt when he saw Wyn on the far side of the room, standing in front of a large window looking out into the starry night. She was wearing a beautiful yellow gown, conservative in nature yet regal in design. Her hair had been carefully styled on her head, a look Vincit had never seen before, and he liked it. A smile appeared on her face when he saw her and she started to jog the length of the room, "Vinny!"

She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him. Vincit was actually surprised at first, then hugged her tightly to him, his feelings and emotions bubbling and crashing together inside of him like they always did when he was with her. The greasy-haired man took this as his own cue to vacate the premises and stepped outside, quietly closing the door.

After a moment, the two let go of each other and Windsong took a step back and looked into Vincit's eyes. Her smile disappeared, "Are you alright, love? Something's different. You've... changed..."

"So have you," Vinny replied, looking back at her. It had nothing to do with titles of power, or the clothes they wore--nothing to do with styled hair or woad tattoos. In that brief moment, both saw each others souls and recognized changes within. It was a powerful moment and they couldn't speak, just stared at each other, studying each others faces.

"What happened?" Vincit finally asked, caressing her face with a furry paw.

"What do you mean?"

"What's different about you... besides the obvious?"

Wyn shook her head, "I don't understand. I didn't know I was any different besides the obvious... but YOU have certainly changed--I don't know why or how... are you alright?" she asked, tracing one of the scars across the tattoo on his face. Vinny turned his head slightly towards her as she did this, looking at her from the corners of his eyes as she examined the scars, questioning her... her queries, and what made her different from before... he wasn't sure if he liked it.

"I take it Oscar hasn't told you about what happened back on Earth?"

"No," she sighed, looking away, "I've been so busy with... things... I made sure he was given suitable quarters, but I haven't had a chance to talk to him since--I thought if he heard anything, he would come to me."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he had tried--the guards you got outside are total tight-asses--had to threaten the guy just to get in to see you."

She looked back at him and smiled, "I'm sorry, Vinny," she replied, "Would you mind staying with me for a while and telling me what happened?"

"Not at all," Vincit nodded, walking with her over towards the bed, for he was relived to see her smile again, "You wouldn't happen to have anything to drink, would you? I'm parched..."

--------

Jon opened the door to room 31844-D and stepped into the common area which connected the four rooms. Vinny's room, room A, was empty, the door open and light off. He was probably with Wyn.

Rather than dwell on this, he noticed Oscar sitting in chair, his head in his hands, hunched over. Jon walked over and sat in a nearby chair, making his presence known by sound. After a few seconds, Oscar looked up. His face was glistening with sweat and he looked pale. A red mark across his forehead indicated a scorch he had taken during the sparring match a day ago.

"My friend, you look terrible," Jon said, stating the obvious, "Are you feeling feverish?"

Oscar shook his head, "No. Just... bad dreams, I guess."

Jon looked thoughtfully at the floor for a moment before continuing, "What is it that ails your mind so much you cannot rest easily?"

Silence hung in the air after the question. Oscar appeared not to have heard Jon at all. The paladin waited patiently, hoping perhaps that his friend was considering whether to answer or not. After a good minute, however, it was beginning to look as if Oscar simply did not want to talk about his nightmares.

"I am sorry," Jon apologized, "I did not mean to intrude upon your worries."

Oscar spoke immediately, "No, no, it's alright, I know... I know I haven't been very open about myself for the longest time and I do appreciate you all taking it as you have."

"I am simply concerned for your condition. You have not looked well since Vincit and I have arrived to Meggido--did something happen during the battle?"

"No," Oscar replied, "No, this is... something that has been with me for a long time... a very long time."

"Joel," Jon deduced. Oscar said nothing, but nodded slightly.

There was quiet in the darkened common area for a minute or two before Oscar spoke, "Joel and I have always been enemies. We have always fought with each other--certainly never on a scale like this, with Joel in a position of power as he is. It's just been the two of us, and... I dunno, I'm starting to wonder why. Why were things like that to begin with and why are we still going at it?"

Jon nodded, "Well, certainly you must remember the origin of your mutual hatred?"

"But I don't!" Oscar exclaimed, "I don't know anything about why things are the way they are between the two of us. I can't even remember where I come from."

Jon looked at Oscar, "You do not remember your home?"

"No... not a thing."

"Well, what do you remember?"

Oscar sighed, then snorted, "I remember pain. There was this pain, and I was blind--couldn't see. I had this vision... an animal, of some sort... like a deer, and then I see this face glaring at me, and then it disappears... and when I wake up, I'm lying in this forest, bleeding from the ears--I don't know what happened. All I COULD remember was my name."

Jon said nothing, didn't move--he was processing this information which had suddenly become available to him. This was more about Oscar than he had ever heard and he was amazed there was this much to know--and that he was here to hear it. He prodded further, "The face: 'twas Joel?"

"Yeah," Oscar said, looking at the floor.

Jon continued to mull this over in his head. There was no real way to tell what all this meant clearly. Was there more to this then both of them knew of? What did Joel know, if he was there? One question seemed to plague Jon's mind more than anything: was Oscar truly an angel? Despite his appearance, there was an air about him that suggested he wasn't angelic at all. Course, Jon had never seen an angel in person...

... then again, maybe he had, and maybe that angel was sitting right next to him... ?

Suddenly, something clicked in the back of Jon's mind.

"This animal you saw, what was it again?"

Oscar shrugged, "A stag, I think, why?"

Jon recalled memories of the past, "Whenever Sister Assumpta first met you, she mentioned that your name, in her peoples Gaelic language, meant "He Who Loves The Deer"."

The angel pondered the implications, "Must be a coincidence... except..."

"Except what?"

It was Oscar's turn to recall the past. He remembered his fight with Samsa--what little he could recall. There was a vision of a white stag, it came out of nowhere, and stood to protect him, to strengthen him. His memory blurred after that, resuming with his sword drawn, pointed at David's throat. Oscar wondered about the implications. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't hear Jon ask him.

"Are you alright?"

Oscar snapped out of his daze, "Huh? Oh, yeah, fine... I'm fine..."

"You were going to say something... about the deer," Jon reminded.

Oscar thought quickly, "No, no, I thought maybe I had a connection but I don't, actually, I really can't think about this anymore right now, my head is killing me."

"Do you need anything?"

"No, thank you, Jon," Oscar said, standing up, "What I really need right now is some sleep... and you ought to do the same... sorry to bother you with my troubles."

"My friend," Jon replied, standing and putting a hand on the angel's shoulder, "Your troubles are no bother to me. If there is any way at all I can help ease your mind, do not hesitate to ask. Brother Vincit and I will be here for you, as you are for us."

Oscar nodded, taking the paladin's hand and squeezing it, "Thanks, man. I appreciate it immensely."

Jon nodded in response and smiled, "Goodnight, Sir Angel."

Oscar grinned, "G'night, St. Jon."

Jon rolled his eyes, "Oh no--not you, too..."

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