The bride was beautiful. A dress of pure white that seemed to shine against her dark skin. A hint of blush lit up her cheeks. Dark eyes shone with tears of joy as her fingers interlaced with the man she loved so dearly. Standing only an arms length away Cross wondered if she knew. Knew that she wouldn't live long enough to look back upon this day fondly. Then again, maybe she would. Maybe she would live a long and happy life. Her husband would grow to love her more and more with every passing day. She would have three children and they would be raised in a household full of love. They would cherish their every memory of their mother, even long after she had passed to the afterlife.

That wasn't the future Cross saw for her.

He saw red. Dark red. Blood spilled by a single act of violence. A moment of frustration. Words that couldn't be taken back. Screaming, crying, and then silence. Blood dripping, staining her skin. Eyes, the same eyes that could shine so bright, dull and unseeing. In those eyes… in those eyes…

He saw death.

Cross turned to look out the window of the church and found himself on what would soon become a battlefield. He drifted over the soft grass, still slick with morning dew. He could hear preparations being shouted out on both sides. The men were scared. They didn't want to die. Some furiously wrote letters. Their last will and testament. Others feverishly whispered prayers to whatever deity might be watching over them. Cross could see every letter and hear every word. They blended together into a single message.

Hope.

A fearful hope that they might survive this war.

But Cross knew better.

He knew who would live.

He knew who would die.

He blinked and the battle was long underway. The smell of blood, metallic and thick, hung heavy in the air and left stains upon the earth. Cross watched impassively as the soldiers valiantly fought. Limbs were severed and helms cleaved. The screams of the dying were drowned out by the fervent noise of battle. Cross looked at the flags, curious for a moment for who these men died for. For a moment the flags signaled it as battle between Dumas and Voy. In another the war was between Dumas and Gorin, their flags flying fiercely in the air, trying to spur the soldiers into acts of valor and heroics.

With every flap the colors and symbols changed, but the war remained the same.

A medic ran through the chaos, moving as fast as her legs would carry her. She came to a sliding stop next to a fallen soldier. Her hands pressed against the sucking wound in his chest, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. An arrow pierced through her back and she screamed. Her hand, already covered in blood, came up to touch the arrowhead protruding through her chest. Another two struck her and she listed the side and fell over. Blood dripped from her lips as she cried for help.

Cross stared at her.

With the smallest twitch of his hand, the battle, no, time itself stopped. Slowly he moved towards the young medic, stepping through her past, her present, and her future.

He saw the choices she took to get here. She had lied about her age and enlisted against her parent's wishes. In another time, the war had never happened. She had fallen in love with the girl next door, the friend who had always been at her side. She lived a long and meaningful life. She had died in her bed, comfortable. But that was a thousand choices ago. Maybe more. Instead, she was here, dirty and alone. She would die, because of a war that would lead to nothing more than the change of a few miles of near useless land.

A bragging right for the nobles that would never see the front lines, never see the war they believed so just. The men and women who would hear the number of dead, but would never actually see the faces they sent to die.

Cross took a step back and time resumed. The medic reached out towards the sky with trembling fingers one last time. Tears of pain and hopelessness stained her cheeks as the last breath of life left her chest and her body went still. Cross turned back to the battle that continued to rage on.

The death of one was nothing. Not against the flow of time. No matter who fell, it simply marched on, just like the solders that streamed onto the battlefield.

An explosion went off at Cross's feet and his vision blurred.

The smoke and fire faded away to a mother. Or she would have been. The child did not survive. She gripped her husband's hand until her knuckles grew white and she buried her face into his chest. She screamed. Screamed until she could scream no more and nothing but a rasping noise escaped her throat, lips dried and cracked. Her husband held her tightly, trying to keep his composure, trying to hold the world together for the both of them. His strength could only last so long.

The scene faded, as they all did, and Cross found himself standing outside of the guildhall. The door was ajar and he slowly walked in. The usual greetings did not reach him. There was no one to give them. He looked to Servilia's desk, but she was gone. The files she usually kept so neatly organized had been haphazardly spread out, with some even falling onto the ground in crumpled piles. Cross reached down to pick one up before remembering. Remembering that he couldn't touch anything here. He was nothing here. Not even a shadow. He was simply an observer.

An impartial witness.

Unable to change.

Unable to help.

Only to know.

He walked around the desk, eyeing the documents. There was a thin coating on dust clinging to every page. He lifted his eyes and stared over the guildhall. Dust clung to everything.

Even the bodies.

He hadn't even noticed as he had drifted through the building and he barely even comprehended it as he stared down and into unseeing eyes.

Cross said nothing as he dropped down to one knee next to Jiana's prone body. Her sword was clutched in her hand, the blade stained with blood. Fresh blood. Cross looked up and watched the murderer dodge past Servilia's thrust and kill her with a single strike to the neck. Blood poured from the wound. It stained Servilia's dress as she dropped down to her knees and fell to her side. Her blue eyes looked out blindly. She blinked once. Twice.

She did not open her eyes a third time.

Cross felt something wet on the corner of his eye and he lifted up his hand. He caught the teardrop just as it fell. It hung on the tip of his finger before letting it hit the ground. The droplet crashed to the ground and a flame rose up.

Cross slowly rose to his feet and watched as flames began to spread, hungrily lapping at the bodies. The fire crackled merrily as it engulfed the guildhall. People screamed outside for help, but Cross knew no help was coming.

His guildmates.

His family.

They were all dead.

The flames spread. Spread across the city. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The fire ravenously devoured all in its path, growing ever larger. Demanding more and more in tribute.

The entire world burned and Cross watched with a mask of indifference.

He knew somewhere, somewhere deep down inside of him, that he should feel something. Anything. But he no longer could even find it in himself to do more than shed a single tear over the death of what amounted to the only family he had ever known. Once, in a time that felt so long ago, Cross would have felt an overwhelming despair in the face of any of these images.

That time was long past.

Or was it?

What was time? Did it even exist? Did anything really exist?

Did those feelings of pain even happen?

Could it exist if he could not see it?

Ah. Of course it did.

He knew that. Of course. He knew everything, or was it nothing?

What was nothing?

It was such a strange thing to think about.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

So strange. So strange. So strange.

Wait.

No.

No, he was sure of it.

He had felt despair.

It had clung to his soul like thick tar. He had tried to fight against it, but the more he struggled the deeper he had fallen into that pit of inky black sludge. He would have drown in it, would have died in it, unless he found it.

A way to harden his heart.

To erase the pain.

To bury it deep.

So deep he would never have to feel.

Despair?

Of course it was real.

He had touched it, embraced it, reveled in it.

Because it was his everything, and his nothing.

It was almost enough to bring a small smile to his face as the flame burned itself out and he was left in darkness. Another world come and gone. More lives than he could even begin to imagine extinguished. He was completely alone in this abyss of nothing.

Again.

How many times had it been now?

Did it matter?

The world, no, time itself, was despair.

And despair was nothing to him.

"Nothing," Cross said softly to himself.

"That may be the saddest thing I have ever heard."

Cross turned around slowly and found himself face to face with a beautiful young woman. She hung in the abyss few feet higher than him. Her large mismatched eyes looked at him inquisitively, one a deep sapphire, the other a pure crimson. She reached up and ran a hand through her choppy black hair.

"Who are you?" Cross said. There was only the smallest hint of surprise in his voice.

"Me?" She spun around until she was lounging on her back, the long green dress she wore flowing out around her, obviously not affected by the rules of gravity in this endless void of nothing. She floated around aimlessly for a few minutes before answering him. "I have many names, but as for you… you may call me Kosu."

"Kosu." Cross worked the name around in his mouth.

She nodded, flipping over onto her stomach and propping her face up with her hands. "Kosu. The Endless Wanderer. Or the Witch of the Void if you prefer it."

"You don't look like a witch."

"Don't I?" Kosu smiled. She blinked and her eyes swapped colors. Another blink and they went completely red. "What makes one look like a witch?"

"They're old."

"I am very old."

"You don't look old."

"Aren't you sweet?" Kosu's eyes turned blue and she dropped down closer to him. "Now that I have introduced myself, I believe it is your turn. If you don't mind."

"My name…" Cross reached up and touched his forehead. A look of confusion washed across his face. He knew his own name. He had to. He knew who he was. He was… his name was… "My name…"

Kosu moved closer. "Your name. What is it?"

"My name…" His mouth went dry and a rumbling off in the distance reached his ears. A tidal wave coming to crash down on him, to sweep him away. He looked past Kosu and into the nothingness.

"Your name?" Kosu said again. There was a hint of urgency to her voice.

"My name is…" Cross began to fall. His body grew heavy, like chains were weighing him down. He looked down at his body, but saw only nothing.

"Your name?" Kosu sounded so far away now. He looked up, but he saw nothing.

"Oh," Cross breathed. He felt so cold and then he felt nothing.

He was fading away. Becoming the nothingness of the Void.

He would drift forever like this.

Lost.

A hand caught his wrist and Cross was wrenched forward. The weight on his body slid away and he found himself flushed against Kosu's chest, her arm wrapped tightly around him. He clawed at her without thought, his fingers finding purchase against her dress, bunching the fabric beneath his fingers as he pressed his face against her chest. A warmth spread through his entire body as Kosu gently stroked his hair. The fog in his mind burned away.

"One more time," Kosu said gently as she released him and drifted just out of reach. "What is your name?"

Cross looked up at her and took in a shaky breath. "My name… My name is Cross."

"Yes, it is." Kosu smiled.

xXx

"How did you do this?" Cross asked as he walked around the large, spacious house. The marble was cool against his bare feet as he followed Kosu as she floated from room to room.

"I can do many things," Kosu said, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Are you a God?"

"A God?" Kosu giggled. "That is an attractive thought, but unfortunately for me I am far from a God."

"You're strong though," Cross said. He came to a sudden stop to keep from running into Kosu who had abruptly turned around to face him. Her bright, mismatched eyes bored into his. "What does strength mean to you?"

"Knowledge," Cross answered. The words came without hesitation and he shivered as they passed over his lips. He hadn't meant to say that. He didn't know what he meant to say, but it hadn't been that. He suddenly felt so very far away form his body. Like he was looking in from the outside and his body continued to work without his conscious input. He vaguely felt his mouth move. "Knowledge and power."

Kosu tilted her head and her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "Power to do what?"

On this question Cross faltered. The question pulled him back. Why did he want power? In a time that felt so long ago, he would have wanted power to protect his friends. His family. Power to keep everything in his small world steady, stable, safe. Power to keep people he cared about from hurting, from leaving.

But now…

"Everyone wants power," Cross answered when he could find no clear answer.

With the question answered, he again began to drift away.

"That isn't what I asked you," Kosu said as she lowered down to the ground, her eyes still locked with his. "What is it you want power for?"

He felt a pull, a tug towards his body, but it was weak. Faint. It could not hold him.

Why did he want power?

Why should he try to protect anyone?

What was the point?

People would die. The world would turn. Time would march on endlessly. What did it matter if he saved someone? Lives were insignificant in the grand scheme. He had seen that himself. He had watched the world burn a thousand times over and more. He had watched death and destruction. Even those he knew to be close to him… there was no reason to value their lives more than the next. It was only some meaningless sense of intimacy that made them more important. Nothing in this entire world was real. What would it matter if they died?

What would it matter if he killed them himself?

They were insignificant.

Irrelevant.

Trivial.

Marks on history that would fade away into nothingness within the blink of an eye. Knowledge to be stored away in his memory and forgotten.

Nothing mattered.

Nothing except knowledge.

"Power to know," Cross said. The words came to him without the slightest thought. "To know everything, and nothing."

"And what will you do with this power?"

Cross was so far away now that he could barely even hear the question. He knew his mouth was opening. He knew he would answer. He just didn't know what it would be.

"Everything," Cross said. An odd smile filtered onto his face. "Or maybe nothing." He waved his hand and the building around them faded away to the nothingness of the Void. He started to fade along with it "I like it better this way, I think."

Kosu was no longer smiling. The serious expression was a strange sight on her delicate face. She moved closer to him.

"I can see it, you know." Kosu said.

Cross tilted his head towards her, but he couldn't see her. Not really. She came through his eyes in a hazy, broken image. Cracked in places and hidden by shadows in others. Only the desire to hear what she knew kept him from fading away completely. "Oh?"

"Your soul," Kosu said. "I can see it, if only just. It's drifting away, fading. If you let it get too far, you will never get it back."

"Would that be so bad?" Cross looked out into the ether. "What is a soul, really? Do you know? I don't. Maybe I should let it go. Maybe…"

"Your mother wouldn't like that." Kosu tutted. There was a forced lightness to her tone.

Cross almost ignored her, but the need to correct her won out in the end. "My mother? I don't have a mother."

"Everyone has a mother."

Cross turned to look at her. "The woman who would have been my mother abandoned me. She left me alone, without even a note to explain herself. All she did was birth me. She is not a mother."

Once, those words would have been said with venom. Spat out with a catch in his throat and the burn of unshed tears in his eyes. It had filled him with white-hot shame to know he was unwanted, unloved, unnecessary. Anger that he wasn’t even worth a message, a note, anything to explain why he had been left behind.

Those feelings were gone now. Like the last embers of a dying fire they had faded within him. There was nothing inside left to feel them. He could only state them as fact. Let the words slip over his numb lips without the barest hint of emotion.

"I wasn't talking about the woman who gave you birth," Kosu said. "I was talking about the one that gave you life."

An image of Jiana flickered to life behind her.

A smile lit up the Guild Mistress's face as she looked down at the child held in her arms. A young Servilia looked up at her expectantly, a notepad held ever diligently in her hand.

"What do you want me to put for the name?"

"Cross," Jiana said softly, rocking the newly christened child back and forth in her arms as he began to fuss. "His name will be Cross."

"Should I tell Hilda to prepare the orphanage for him?" Servilia said.

"No, I don't believe that will be necessary," Jiana said, unable to pull her eyes away from Cross. "This one…. This one I will raise myself."

"Mistress?" Servilia hesitated, her pen resting against the page. "Are you sure?"

"I am positive," Jiana whispered, her voice was soft as falling snow. "I will raise him as my own."

The scene faded only to have another take its place. Cross tried to look away, but found could not keep his eyes from latching into the memory.

Jiana stared at young Cross from the other side of the training room. She held only a small training knife in her hand to Cross's full sized sword. He charged at her, thrusting out for a killing blow. With a mere swipe of her hand, Jiana slapped his sword away before striking him hard across the cheek with the back of her free hand. Cross was sent reeling back.

He hit the floor hard. The sword dropped from his hand and his tiny shoulders began to tremble. Tears dripped down to the padded floor of the training room. Jiana let her weapon fall to the floor and dropped down next to him. She swept him up in her arms, holding him tight as he wept.

"Oh Cross, I'm so sorry," Jiana cooed. "I thought you were going to dodge."

"I was," Cross whimpered. "You're too fast."

Jiana let out a soft laugh. "I will try to slow down next time."

Cross made a noise and wiggled free from her grasp. He scrambled across the floor and picked up his sword. He wiped a hand across his red eyes. "No. I can beat you! Don't slow down."

Jiana smiled and retrieved her weapon. "Very well."

Cross finally tore his eyes away, but no sooner had he managed that than the image slipped away into the Void and another began. No matter how hard he struggled, his could not keep from watching.

Cross was crying, alone in his room, a letter clutched in his hands. Jiana sat patiently beside him, stroking his hair as she waited for his tantrum to subside.

"It's not fair," he croaked out. "It's not."

"I know," Jiana said gently.

"Why did she leave?" Cross tried to keep his voice from cracking, but the effort was too great.

"We all have a path, Cross." Jiana said as she pulled him into a tight hug. "This was simply her path. You will find your own too. Maybe they will even intersect."

Cross didn't answer as he buried his face in her side and continued to sob.

As the scene ended, Cross no longer felt as though he could drift away. Nor was he weighed down, sinking into nothingness like before.

Now, he was rooted to this very spot. Trapped, as though his limbs were suddenly made of stone. He wanted to look away. To stare into the emptiness of the Void, but he couldn't pull his eyes away as more scenes began to pop up.

Jiana giving him his first present. It was a pendent marked with Tejkin symbols. A ward against evil.

"That's enough," Cross said quietly. There was a shift inside of him.

The first time she had let him hold a sword.

"I said enough," Cross said, slightly louder. The shift turned violent. Something cracked and splintered. A fissure opened up inside him, spreading through his entire being.

The countless hours Jiana had spent, teaching him to read and write. Teaching him to wield a sword, a bow. How to move, to speak, to fight. How to live.

"Stop it!” Cross shuddered. His knees gave out beneath him and he found himself staring up into the images. He couldn't look away.

Why couldn't he look away?

Why did this matter?

Jiana waiting up all night for him to return from a job, and then hiding away in the shadows so he wouldn't know she had worried.

Jiana, always watching out of the corner of her eye, ready to protect him. Ready to give her life for him at a moment’s notice.

The images became distorted now. Blurry. It took Cross a long moment to realize that tears were hanging heavy in his eyes. With a shaking hand he reached up and wiped them away and the dam he had built so strong gave way, bursting with everything he had pushed down so far. His world was nothing but pain.

He was a raw nerve, exposed to everything he had hidden from.

A scream tore from his lips, so loud he couldn't even hear it. He screamed until his throat was raw. He screamed until his lungs felt like they would explode. He screamed until he fell forward and his pain faded to a single feeling.

Shame.

A shame unlike he had ever felt before. It did not burn through him, like liquid metal into a mold. Instead it slowly seeped into his bones, pounding like a dull ache, invading every inch of his being. A weight like he had never known pressed down on him, drawing out cries and choked sobs long after he had run out of breath to give them.

"Why?" Cross managed to get the word out through his dry lips. He turned his unseeing eyes up to Kosu. "Why?"

"I'm giving you the choice," Kosu's voice was like water washing over him, cold against his feverish skin. "If you want to drift away into the Void, I will not stop you. However I want you to understand what you are giving up. You are loved, Cross. Even if you don't see it, even if you choose not to see it, you are loved, and there are more who will love you and be loved by you. But that is a choice that you must make alone. One we all must make alone.”

Cross sucked in a sharp breath and found his way to his feet. His vision slowly returned and he looked at Kosu. “It hurts.”

“Yes.”

“Will it always hurt?”

“Not always.”

“Can you help me?”

“I wonder?” She tilted her head to the side. “But there are many others that will, without a doubt. You know that.”

“I…” Cross took in a slow breath and nodded. “I want to stay."

Kosu smiled, her hand reaching out to gently touch his cheek. "I was hoping you would say that."

xXx

Kosu had rebuilt the house around them. When she had done so, Cross was not completely sure. He wasn't even sure he knew how long he had been in the Void. It felt like centuries, but it could have been minutes, maybe even seconds. Time in the Void was irrelevant, just like everything else. Kosu had explained that to him, along with many other things. Some had made sense, but much more had not. When he had pressed her for answers she had simply given him a coy smile and repeated what he was beginning to feel was a favorite saying of hers.

"I cannot say. There are Rules. Rules stronger than the thickest iron. Rules that even Gods can not break."

She had assured him in time he would understand. It was maddening, but also comforting in a way that he could not quite categorize. It also seemed that for every question he had for Kosu, she had one for him.

"What are you doing?" Kosu asked as she floated over Cross, watching as he stretched out his body in preparation.

"I'm training.”

"Training?" Kosu swooped low and stopped in front of him. "For what?"

Cross shrugged and looked around the empty room. Jiana had him exercise most days. It felt strange to be doing nothing, even though Kosu seemed more than content to spend eternity floating around and talking aimlessly.

"Is there something you need?" Kosu asked.

Cross twisted his mouth back and forth before thrusting his hand out. The black of the Void opened up around his hand and he felt something cool press against his palm. With a grunt, Cross pulled his arm back. Clasped in his palm was a black sword, the blade materializing from the nothingness.

"Oh, that is interesting," Kosu said as she investigated the sword. "How did you do that?"

"I-I'm not sure," Cross said as he tested the weight of the sword. It felt a bit too light but it would do for practice. He began to move from side to side, striking and feinting in quick succession. Kosu returned to her higher position to watch him.

"You move well," she called out.

"Mistress Jiana… My mother." Cross corrected himself as he paused to look up at Kosu. "She taught me well. She's the best swordswoman in all of Voy. Maybe in all of the Kingdoms."

"What will you use your skill for? The military?"

Cross shook his head. "I am going to become a Hunter."

"A Hunter.” Kosu dropped down in front of him, uncomfortably close. It was a habit she was fond of. "That is a dangerous job."

Cross spun the sword around. "I'm not afraid."

"I did not expect you to be." Kosu sighed. "Tell me, Cross. How do you feel about killing people?"

The abrupt question threw Cross, as many of Kosu's questions did, but he was beginning to grow used to her unique way of speaking, if only a little. He composed himself before answering. "The Guild avoids killing unless it is deemed necessary. We defend ourselves, our guildmates, and the innocent at all costs."

"That was a good answer," Kosu said, her eyes finding his. "But you avoided my question. You're good at that. What I asked was, how do you feel about killing people. Not your Guild. You."

Cross tried to hold her gaze but ultimately failed as his eyes fell to his blade. "I'm not sure."

"Is that the truth?" Kosu asked. Her voice all but forced him to bring his eyes back up.

Cross raised and lowered one shoulder.

"You should not become a Hunter," Kosu said quietly. She held up a hand as Cross moved to protest. "I pulled you free from the Void, Cross. I helped bring you back from that edge of nothingness, but I know what you saw in that vast abyss. I know it changed you. You cannot go back to the way you were before, not ever. That is the curse of the Void. I have no doubt if you become a Hunter you will be very successful." Kosu shook her head. "But it will take you to a dark place. Killing will come easy to you. Hurting people will be nothing more than an afterthought, if it is even a thought. You will lose yourself to the darkness, true darkness, and then even I won't be able to pull you free."

"I'm not like that," Cross said, but the words came out weakly as the sword dropped from his fingers and shattered into nothing. He shook his head. There was no way he would become like that. His voice grew stronger as anger rushed through him. "I'm going to be a Hunter! The best Hunter the Sleeping Dragon has ever had.”

Kosu gave him a small smile and flew back a few feet. "I will respect you choices, then. I was hoping I would have more time to change your mind, but I suppose I have kept you here for too long as it is. It would be best if I sent you back before you began to hate me. That wouldn't do at all."

"You're sending me back?" Cross asked carefully. He had asked Kosu many times before, but had never been able to get a straight answer out of her as to when he would return, only her assurance that he would.

"It seems I have no choice. I've been keeping you contained here, safe in my little corner of this world, but I don't think that will do for much longer. It's not good for a soul to be free of its body for too long, even though I would rather not let you go yet. Though some of that is simply me being selfish," Kosu said with a tiny smile. "But before you go, there is one last thing I would like to show you, if you would let me?"

Cross nodded and Kosu waved her hand, dispelling the house and leaving them floating in the Void. Kosu lifted up a finger and pointed behind Cross. He slowly turned around and saw a single twinkling light off in the distance. He felt Kosu's hand land lightly on his back as she led him to the light.

"This is the last choice I give you. Consider if a gift, of sorts, for entertaining me for so long, "Kosu whispered.

"What is it?" Cross asked quietly as he stared down at the light. It was so close he could reach out and touch it, but he resisted the temptation.

"It's the answer to a question that you have long wished to know the answer. She pulled back and began to float away. "If you wish to know the identity of the woman who gave birth to you, all you have to do is look."

Cross turned around and stared at Kosu with wide eyes. She returned his stare with an amused grin.

"What will it be?" Kosu asked as she rolled until she was on her back, her red eyes watching him closely. "Do you wish to know?"

Cross turned back to the light and reached out his hand…

xXx

There was a weight on Cross's chest. It wasn't particularly heavy, but it was enough to be an annoyance. With a groan, he rolled over to the side to dislodge it and heard an unmistakable giggle. With a practiced hand he reached out for the light switch and the small sleeping compartment he had rented was bathed in soft orange light. Kosu sat beside him, her eyes bright and amused.

"Were you dreaming about me?" she purred as she leaned over him, her fingers walking up his chest "Don't bother lying, I know you were."

"I told you I don't like it when you mess with my dreams." Cross sighed as he dropped his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes again. He had been subject to Kosu's invasive hobby more than once and he hated it every time.

"Is that anyway to talk to your dream girl?" Kosu pouted as she lay down next to him and snuggled against him. She was warm. "Besides, I was nice to you then. You were a lost little lamb in the Void and I saved you. Who would have though when we met all those years ago, that we would grow so close."

"We're not close.”

"I feel close," Kosu said as she pressed herself flush against his side.

Cross sighed and reached up to rub his temple. "If you're going to mess with my memories anyways, at least don't change anything."

"I would never," Kosu said with mock outrage. "How could you say such a thing?”

"Your hair." Cross said tiredly. "It was all choppy just now. Your hair was long the first time we met. And your dress was black, not green."

"So you do remember," Kosu said smugly. "I didn't think you would notice."

"What's the point?"

"Who knows?" Kosu said as she floated up and over him, dangling her hair in his face. "Maybe just to see if you were paying attention. Speaking of that, the last time you headed this way, you didn't pay attention to a warning that was given, if my memory serves me correctly. Quite a predicament that left you in. I was so very worried."

"So, this is a warning?" Cross said, opening his eyes to look at Kosu.

"Maybe." Kosu smirked. "Then again, maybe I know that if I warn you, you will just do the opposite of what I say. Or maybe I can't change your mind and you will do whatever you have already planned. Or maybe you're on the way to an Absolute Point in your timeline, and I'm just trying to help you out, like I did with that cute little Spirit Goddess. By the way, she's already burned through all the money you left her. That adorable shadow mage you are oh so fond of showed her where you hide your extra gold."

"Is that all?"

"Well there is one last thing," Kosu said as she leaned down until her nose was touching his and her mismatched eyes were all he could see. "It has been a while now. Are you ever going to go and meet her?”

Cross closed his eyes and pointedly turned his head away from Kosu.

"No."