Chapter One

          He sat up; his blue eyes open wide in fear. He was drenched in cold sweat; it soaked the dark gray henley shirt he wore and matted the fringe of his too-long dark hair to his forehead. His thin lipped mouth was open in a soundless scream. His long fingered hands trembled, curling around the sheets, and finally, as the realization that it was all a dream, he relaxed. A relieved sigh escaped his lips as he closed his eyes. His hand went up to his narrow forehead, smoothing back his unkempt hair.

          It's all right, he told himself. Just a nightmare, Eduard. Now sleep.

          He lay down on the bed, waiting for sleep to wrap its arms around him and pull him into a deep slumber. But as he lay there, he couldn't help but wonder if the dream had any meaning to it. After all, he'd been having the same dream over and over again.
          Sleep came oh so slowly, and when he finally drifted, a similar nightmare came to him, disturbing his subconscious mind.

          Not dead.
          Even as he lay there, he was sure of that fact. He was wounded, yes, but not dead. Far from it. Well, how could he, when he could feel pain cutting into his flesh like daggers? His senses told him how far he was from death, and how vivid his surroundings felt to him! Never before had he seen the world with such clarity, felt the blood soaking his clothes drop by drop. And what was there to be happy about? Nothing, evidently.
          His blue eyes drifted in their sockets, found the two agents standing over him, their expressions unfathomable. The first agent - the one with amber colored eyes and dark hair - was staring at him intently, while his associate - the one with brown hair and had opened fire - was standing at a distance. He still had his weapon raised, as if the prisoner would attack again.
          "As you can see, Mr Hunter," drawled the first agent, "that wasn't a wise move. The Organization wouldn't want a good research subject wasted like that, but we will terminate you if we have to. And by the look of things, Mr Hunter, you are leaving us with no choice."
          Go ahead, he thought. Kill me. Would you dare to do so? I'd like to see.
          His Craft seemed to pulse within him. Every vein and artery had enchanted blood flowing through it. Could he work his Craft again? He was sure he could do it again. Forget about the drugs in his system - the magic in him could fight even that. He was stronger than that, wasn't he assured of this again and again? He was stronger than the Organization's best man; why wouldn't he go down without a fight?
          Fire flashed in his blue eyes, and in an instant, the entire cell was ablaze. Bright orange flames licked the white walls, turning them black. Flames engulfed the three men in the room as the fire alarm went off. The agents had their guns out and aimed at the man who caused it all, but what good would bullets do? He was stronger than them, even in his wounded state. And he wouldn't remain their captive for long.
          The flames swirled around him, but he felt no fear. The heat coming from them couldn't hurt him, not then. They were his flames, and no one could conquer those flames. The flames extended their arms to him; he gladly welcomed it. He wouldn't die, no. But he would escape.
          And then he was gone.

          "It means nothing," Ellie snapped. "It's just stupid, so very stupid."
          Eduard quickened his pace, trying to catch up with his friend. Michelle 'Ellie' Poole marched down the hallway quietly, refusing to listen to whatever Eduard had to say. Somehow, the mere mention of the dream had her acting strange. What was up with that? She didn't have to get all huffy on him, did she? Girls. What was up with them, anyway?
          "Are you all right?" he asked her when he finally caught up with her. "I mean ..."
          "Yes, yes," Ellie replied with a wave of her hand. "I'm fine, I could not be any better than this ... No, really ..."
          But Eduard was persistent. "You're a really bad liar, you know."
          Ellie whirled around, her gray eyes blazing. Their eyes met in a gaze so intense Eduard fell back a step. Then a slow smile curled the corners of her little pink mouth upward. She leaned closer to him and muttered quietly, "Wouldn't you like to know?"
          As she walked away, Eduard couldn't help but think, that in that moment, Ellie seemed as cold as ice. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized that he may not know his friend as well as he thought, after all. Sighing wearily, he lumbered off to his first class of the day, still thinking of the dreams he had ... and Ellie.