Authoress' Rambling:

Harro ppl!! I know it's not much... No. Too modest: it's really nothing at all. But I hope you DO like it. It's kind-a slow, but it'll get betta. No worries!! Enjoy!!

I. Prologue

It's Friday afternoon, after a long hard day of work. She has been running all over town, and had been sent three times out of town, and once out the state. It has been a tiring day, and now she is heading to the Hotel Le’Croi, where she has been staying for the last week.

She‘s heading to her room beat, tired, sweaty, and smelly, dragging her legs behind her as she tries to reach her room. She stands before a door with the numbers 607 carved in a golden shade. With half an eye open she tries to make out where the key hole is, her shaky hands fighting to keep the key steady enough for it to go through the hole.

After ten minutes of fighting with the lock, she finally entered. As she dragged her numb body towards the bed, she let go of her suit case by the door as it flung closed behind her. Jacket, tie and shoes scattered around in the floor; and loosen her hair by untying the black ribbon, letting it levitate slowly to the floor.

She let herself fall on the bed and rested her eyes for fifteen minutes. Afterwards, she convinced herself that she had to go take a bath. Knowing that the shower in her room is out of service, she rolled her eyes and moaned in pain at the thought of having to go to the public bathroom in the second floor.

Since it’s 2:37 a.m., she was positive that no one was going to drop by, so she took her time getting her robe, and went down the steps, slowly and painfully.

She is pushing herself to come out to the cold true world out of the warm arms of the hot water.

She is crawling up the little stairs out the bathtub. A cold breeze greeted her as she slowly pulls herself out. Now she is out and completely shaking from the tip of her toes to the last hair on her head. Every single hair on her body is standing straight up.

As she reaches out to get the towel he opens the door. He is just as surprised as she is. At the same time she slips and falls back in the bathtub hitting her head with one of the stairs and ending up in the bottom of the tub.

He is still shocked for what happened. But he finally realizes that she is drowning when the bubbles stopped coming up. He ran to the tub and jumped inside. Swimming as fast as he can to finally reach her.

He grabs her by her waist and pushes himself up, but she would not go up with him. He looks down and slowly examines her, a faint hue of pink on his high cheek bones: she has trapped herself with some kind of rope on her left foot. He reaches out and releases her from the rope. And once again pushes himself up to the surface.

He reaches the surface, and has a light head, because he had spent too much time under water. He comes out of the tub holding her on his arms; she is pale and cold, as if Death had already given her his final kiss.

He puts her on the floor and reaches her neck to feel her pulse. It's weak and slow. Really hard to pick up, but it’s there.

He panics for a fraction of seconds, then calming himself he made up his mind: “I have to perform a CPR or she’ll die…” Looking down at her frail naked body, pale and lifeless, he shivered and felt his face burning hot. He let his eyes travel away from her cold complex to find the linen towel lumped in the floor, soaked. He reaches for it and cover most of her body the best he could. A deep sigh escapes his trembling lips.

As he leans her head back a little bit, kneeling right beside her and putting both his hands in the middle of her chest, he pressed down upon her chest about five to eight times. Half a second of hesitation, then his lips land upon hers. For a moment time stopped and his breath of life entered her lifeless body as he pushed in against her will.

He kept at it for the last three minutes. He did it once and again with hope as his guide.

He started to slow down, for hope has been slipping away, bit by bit.

“I have failed… This is my fault…” He said panting, looking at her pale and lifeless body, then stopped to gaze at her face. “I don’t even know your name…” He whispers. Then out of nowhere he decides to do it once more. And against all odds he reaches out his hands and pressed five times more upon her chest, then with a tinny flame of hope sparkling on his heart his lips land upon hers and blew, for one last time, the breath of life into her soul.

He waits patiently for a response; he waits looking deeply through her skin into her soul; waiting for a sign of life.

He waited and finally convincing himself that it was too late, that he reached her far too late, he placed his hand upon her eyes and closed the narrow slit that seem to be staring at him. Her cold flesh made him shiver. Her white lips seem to be made of ice.

A tear falls upon her cheek, on her cold flesh. The tear seems to have frozen the instant it touched her flesh.

Tears are rolling down his cheek, on his warm flesh. They seem to be running away from it, as they keep coming down.

But then a miracle happened: she tried to open her eyes. Her shoulders jumped and she coughed and choked on the water that comes out of her partly opened lips.

He jumps backward. And happiness fills his heart and soul. He grabs her right hand with both of his, and holds it tightly.

His eyes are now filled with tears, but tears of joy. He waited patiently and his patience was rewarded, because her breast started to go in a very slow motion: up and down. Slowly and steady she starts to breathe again, after choking back the water that had entered when she was unconscious under water.

His heart filled with joy. He bites his lower lip just to stop himself from screaming in happiness, and pressed even harder his hands against hers.

Slowly she opens her eyes.

He waited eagerly for this moment.

She looks at him and opens her mouth to say something.

Now he bites his lips again in anticipation and hopes that she won’t slap him and start yelling that he is a “perverted freak”.

She is looking at him deeply in the eye and whispers with the little breath that she has gained: “Thank you…” Then smiles a weak and tiny smile, closes her eyes and lets her head fall back.

His mouth fell open, but he could not find any suitable words. So he just closed his mouth, smiled and said: “May you have pleasant dreams. And wake not until you fill is right for you to leave.”And so he asked a priestess to take care of her. She told her disciples to make a dojo in that holly land where "the last angel sent from the Heavens" fell. But his identity is still to be known.

Now she slumbers in that holly dojo, and the generations to come wait for her awaking to save them from the terror to come…