Destruction sat on a wispy grey cloud, watching the stars sparkle like diamonds. Violent red hair fell into his eyes as a chill wind swept his cloud farther into the mainland of the small human harbor. A sudden glow illuminated his skin and looking up he watched the crescent of the sallow moon moved from behind a black cloud.

Oddly enough there would be no work for him tonight, and this troubled his usually quiet soul. A complacent peacefulness had overtaken him and he found himself becoming more and more detached from his work. His grey-blue eyes swirled and glazed as he watched a gull soar low among the placid waves, searching for a midnight meal. A slight movement, barely noticeable caught his attention and with interest he looked toward the shore.

A girl with tussled blonde hair sat on a rock off the coast, her nightgown dancing in the breeze that drifted in from the south. She looked to be about eleven or twelve, still but a child. Destruction watched with growing curiosity, wondering what such a young child was doing in the midst of crashing waves at such a late hour, and for a fleeting moment wondered if she was going to fall.

Alarmed by this notion he drifted down into the water, invisible to mortal eyes, and calmed the raging sea. Resurfacing he watched as the strange girl began to sing, sadly, softly at first then slowly growing louder and clearer. Destruction wondered how this child could sing so clearly yet no one from the city came to see what made such a sorrowful noise.

Driven by an unknown force he spread his black wings and silently soared over the city. He realized with an odd twist of his stomach that nothing moved, fluttered or stirred as his shadow passed over various houses and streets.

Landing, he approached a tall house, made of alabaster stone with a singular crystal stone embedded above the archway. He stared at it curiously as it distorted the moonlight and burned angrily at him.

Passing though the main part of the house he looked at various paintings and sculptures that adorned the hallways and several lower level rooms. Walking up the steps of the north tower he passed an open window and caught the scent of lilacs and sea spray on a warm breeze. Continuing up the spiraling stairs he passed several empty rooms until reaching the top and passing through the door he found a room empty except for a chair and a telescope.

The chair was finely crafted with velvet seating and backing, with legs made of gleaming gold and various precious stones. The telescope stretched far out the window and when he stooped to stare through the eyepiece he smiled when he saw deep into the galaxies. Humans were such strange, trivial creatures.

Continuing through the house he found other strange items that showed him things he had seen before and, to him, were of no great consequence.

Finally, coming into the last of the house he passed through a beautiful door to find a bedroom. He looked at the curiously still form under the covers for a moment before throwing caution to the wind and approaching boldly. With a delicate hand he pulled back the lavish covering to see the quiet form of a woman.

She was very beautiful by human standards. Curly brown hair framed her flawless face, rose bud lips carried the hint of a smile, and through half lidded eyes he could see a flash of emerald green.

He cocked his head and with tentative fingers brushed her slightly pale cheeks. But instead of the strange warmth he expected to meet his ghostly touch, it was a chilling cold that gripped his heart and froze him to the bone. It was the cold of Death.

He left her to her eternal sleep and passed through the rest of the wing, each being he encountered as cold as the last.

Finishing his search of the house he entered random buildings in the street, each containing one or several beings, cold with death. Brushing at the stay lock of a small boy, he wondered at what fate they had met their end.

Walking through the quiet streets he could once again hear the singing of the girl by the shore. He dimly wondered when he had stopped hearing it, but curiously couldn’t, remember.

Turning a corner he came to the slums of the city. Makeshift homes were heaped against the stone walls, filth littered the streets and the wind seemed to blow more bitterly here.

But unlike the rest of the city here there were mortals, living mortals. Mortals that could see him.

They watched him as he entered their domain, not with fear or anger- but with curiosity. He likewise watched them as they rose from their respected places and followed him through their forsaken kingdom. He passed one pile of filth and a small child, much like the one he had seen in the better part of the city, poked his head out of the door and grinned at him. Destruction kneeled down and with graceful motion, brushed a lock of black hair from amber eyes.

"Tell me, what has happened to the people in the city? And why is this the only place that has escaped death?" he asked the boy quietly, wondering why this child looked so familiar.

"Do you not know?" he questioned, running his small hand through the feathers of his wings. When Destruction shook his head, the boy smiled and taking his hand in his led him through the winding alleyways until they reached the largest of the buildings.

A bent old man with greying black hair stood at the entrance of the building waved them forward and ushered Destruction and the boy inside, leaving the murmuring crowd outside.

"Greetings, Wraith, long has it been since I have seen your face! When I was a boy you came to my home and destroyed the lives of my father and sisters. But not a hair on my mother’s or my head did you touch" he greeted happily, an eerie twinkle in his wizened eyes.

"How is it you can see me here? I am immortal, therefor invisible to a mortal’s sight. But here, you all have the eyes of those who have seen, I do not understand"

But instead of answering, the old man sat upon a rickety old chair and closing his eyes began a tale Destruction had not expected. "A millennia of years and more ago, there came a man to this very place where we are standing now, and made a deal with the Saints of Ankor. He swore on the holiest of oaths that he would fulfill a promise to the Saints in return for one wish by an allotted point of time. If he failed to deliver on this promise by that time he would suffer retribution of Destruction.

"The man was young and his need was great, but he was a fool. His family and friends told him he was making a mistake, they believed the Saints couldn’t be trusted, but he was desperate. His wish was of love, and so with a hope filled heart he sealed the oath with blood. His blood.

"The promise was to sail to the land of phantoms and bring back the Tome of Elweik. But he failed to realize that no mortal has ever returned from the land of phantoms and so in agony he wandered the earth, lost but with his love. And so he still had hope.

"But seventy years passed and he still had not found the secret of the land of phantoms. You see, Wraith, he believed he had fooled the Saints. The allotted time was ninety years from the day he had made the oath, he believed that he would have his love and die before he had to deliver on his part of the promise. So when his love fell ill to an incurable disease, he became torn between his life and hers. So, distraught, he called once more upon the Saints. But they laughed at him and sent him away.

"But there was one Saint, Aurelia, who had figured out his plot and under the guise of pity made another proposition. If within three days he brought back the Tome, she would heal his love and expand their lives. However, if he failed she would strip him of his love and he would suffer retribution of Destruction. He agreed, yet he failed.

"They took the life of his love and he was cursed with Destruction. Angry, hurt, and grief stricken he caused destruction where he could, wanting to inflict the pain he felt in his heart into the people he saw around him.

"For years he did this until the Saints, realizing their err, called upon the Creator and requested His help. So with care and love he calmed the tormented soul that was the man.

"For a hundred years he was with the Creator, asleep, and while he dreamed his memory was being erased of everything he had ever known and felt until all he had were the dreams. When he did wake up he knew only that he was and was the bringer of Destruction."

As the old man finished, the little boy with dark hair and amber eyes looked up into the face of the Wraith to watch as a singular crystal tear fell to the ground. He still held the ghost like hand in his small clutch and with only the innocence a child possessed, he looked into the distant grey-blue eyes and tugged on the hand.

"So you see, Destruction came to those in the city who felt joy. Joy that he could not. He sealed this land with a curse known only to him, those in happiness would sleep in death while those who knew sorrow such as he would live and wait for his return" The old man took a sip from a wooden goblet, eyes twinkling eerily in the predawn light.

Destruction stood, not realizing he had sat, and turned toward the window facing open toward the shores.

"The singing has stopped," he said, feeling slightly numb from the story. "Why has she stopped?"

"It is dawn, she will sing again tonight and every night until the fate of our life is changed." The little boy answered matter-of-factly.

"And how is that accomplished?"

"You" he answered, watching a flock of gulls soar over the still placid seas. "You must put a stop to the cycle you sister is cursed to do"

"Sister?" he began but thought better of it. "But how?" he asked, feeling slightly lost in this world he thought he had never known.

"By remembering how to feel"

It would be a long day for the Celestial Wraith Destruction.