The sun animated the streets of Bel Haven and as Damian burst out from the alley, swimming through the crowd and giving no care to the shout and curses that seconded his heels, two things kept playing back in his mind. The garrisons that were hot on his heels, and his Granny who was going to pass away today. Having stayed on the streets and giving no care to the old woman, he should be glad that her constant yells were going to pass to the other side of the wall. But on second thought, the fact that Fred would become his responsibility knotted his stomach. If money could buy forever, he was going to steal a castle. He had done that many times, but this was the final stage, a transition to another life, a life which most people were scared of. Elixia can't save his granny again. It had not saved his parents after the accident and had left him and Fred on the streets. Like the many individuals in Bel Haven, his family's case has been one which the doctors had called, irrevocable. He could only hope and pray to God, that granny would find peace after her transition.

"This way"

Damian followed Fred's trail and trotted into Ventra's streets, which was away from the main road. It was a dangerous game but the risk he was willing to take. He needed to shake off the garrison on his heel, and if time permits, he might just be home in time to see his granny before she finally pass to the other side.

"In here," Fred said as he pushed the door.

"Do you think we lost them?"

"Think?" Fred giggled, "Should I remind you where we are?"

Damian shook his head. He needed no reminder. The streets were open enough to allow the February sun to glitter towards every path, but somehow, the heat had failed, leaving the streets with this dull and gloomy feel. Only a garrison that was insane would follow them into this slum, a place which the First Born has labeled 'the worst in the city. Regardless of the people and their lowlife, Ventra Street was a no-mans-land. The laws of Bel Haven have their boundaries, even the Firstborns know that fact. Most outlaws spend their lives here. It was the grave of Elites and a second hell for garrisons whom the government no longer wanted in their service. One step into Ventra streets was enough to render any garrison dead.

"How much of it do you have?" Damian asked, but did not break his attention from the streets.

"Fifteen Cents, I think"

It should be thirty, but fifteen was okay. That would keep them indoors for another week or two, especially since they were wanted by the Firstborns. Fifteen Cents would help them lie low for a bit.

"Did you see how I dived away from the first Garrison back in Ember's castle?"

"Yes, Fred." Damian rolled his eyes, "You are a genius."

"Yes, I know. And I also know how good a liar you are," Fred slouched on the floor, obviously not happy with Damian's reply.

Taking a deep breath, Damian sat on the floor too. This was one of the many reasons why he wanted his granny to live. She knows the right thing to say, and when to say them. After their parent's death, the woman had kept them safe, as much as she could. But to make ends meet, Damian had kept to the streets, it was the only way they were not going to die of hunger, even though granny had claimed that her old woodshop was going to put food on their table.

"You were reckless back there,"

"Tell me about it," Fred hissed and hugged himself.

"It is for your own good, Fred. The way you had jumped out from your hiding place. What were you thinking? What if you had been caught? Or worse died?"

"You fail to realize that my life and yours are two parallel paths. You do your thing and I do mine. Your life your thing, and my life—

"—Listen to yourself?" Damian cut in. Fred was not the one to make corrections. He was always full of himself and dives into conclusions however dangerous they might be. "You don't know how vulnerable you are. For Christ's sake, you are only eleven years, Fred. Why are you forcing my head to turn gray? Or do you think you are invincible? Well, I know your problem. You listen to granny's tales a lot"

"Granny's tales are good."

"And they've clog your head so much that you think you are one of those fancy Silverton, looking straight and ready to battle anyone who breaks the creed. Think well, Fred. This is real life and when shit catches you, they mess you up."

Damian closed his eyes and breathed in again, waiting for Fred to argue. But the boy did not. If he had finally taken the advice, his silence didn't show. He just sat there, looking wildly into the streets and probably not seeing anything from the obvious thoughts that wrapped their girdle around him.

"But, what if they are true?"

"They are not," Damian opened his eyes, "We've argued this before. There is no possible way the Silverton would have existed. If they had once lived as the stories said, then Elixia would not have happened. Claudius would not have merged the timeline in the first place. It's just stories. And you know what happens in stories?"

"No," Fred's pupil dilated as they waited for more tales.

"Only one thing happens in stories," Damian said, "they fade away with time and become a memory that would fill the space."

"I see," The eleven-year-old nodded.

Damian smiled and fiddled with the cuff of his coat. Fred was just a year old when they lost their parents. The green eyes and dark long hair were that of their mother's, and the long legs—granny had said—came from their father's side, even though Damian had known his father as a short man. Seeing Fred kept the bubble of their parents alive in Damian's heart. Maybe he would have forgotten the color of their skin or hair if Fred was not there as a constant reminder.

"We should return home," Fred said.

Damian stood and nodded in agreement. The garrison was nowhere in sight and if they wanted to meet granny, it's about time they headed back home.

They took the left turn, away from the main road. There was not a soul in Ventra streets. But for the music echoing on a far-off distance, no noise was heard. The slum was usually quiet, compared to other hidden streets across Bel haven.

"I can't believe she is living, after all these years."

Damian pulled the dark hair boy into his arms. To Fred, Granny has always been there. Eleven years have passed, yet the boy did not know the secret to Granny's health. Elixia had revived her, not once and not twice. If his calculations were correct, then Granny should have died fifty years ago. But with the power of Elixia, they had dived into Granny's past and restored her life. The process has to do with physics and some equations that Damian was not interested in. Elixia was a scientific wonder, and Damian wish that somehow, scientists should have discovered how to make life on earth even more permanent. That way, one would not lose a loved one and life would be eternal.

A gentle west wind drifted into the street, just in time to catch them before they headed into the next street that was some stone throw away. Damian could not explain the feeling, but as they continued walking home, he felt a cloak of cold, falling on him like morning dew.

Rubbing his exposed skin with his free hand, he turned behind and was surprised when he saw a silhouette, hovering on the edge of the wall not so far from them. It didn't last long, however, and was gone even before he could blink.

"Did you see that?"

"See what," Fred asked and followed his eyes.

"A shadow that was…never mind." Damian hissed and they began walking again. It was pride. If he had explained to Fred what he had seen, the boy would have believed Granny's tale and left Damian with no other explanation on the sacredness of life.

Granny had told them tales of Darkeel, enemies of the good. They had broken the world once, a long time ago before the break way of Elixia. There was no frame touch to the actual story, but the obvious fact was that seeing a Darkeel was not a good sign. It connotes a bad—

Damn, I am letting Granny's fable cloud my mind too. Damian hissed and squeezed his brother's shoulder. This was the real world. A world without shining Silverton or Darkeels.

The gloomy feel of Ventra street left them as they started into the main road. They were just a few blocks away from home when the revolving lights and siren of Bel haven's garrison came hovering about them.