Despite that, or perhaps because of it, there was a subtle comfort to the railway. Perhaps it was the quiet clickity-clack that insinuated itself into the mind, relaxing it. Or maybe it was the sheer roominess of the compartments compared to the claustrophobic tube of an airplane. Being surrounded by earth tones instead of jarring, glaring blankness was certainly also a factor. But perhaps most of all, it was the connection with something real, something tangible, that was most comforting: at 30,000 feet the most an average person could see was the major landmarks of the ground below. On a train, whistling by, you caught glimpses of buildings and houses, cars and signposts, cows and horses, and occasionally the glimpse of an unknown person caught for few fleeting moments and held - all around was life, and the reminder you are connected to it.

And then there is the silence and the time: enough time for a person to be lulled into thought by the rhythmatic motions around her.

As Nereid starred out the window, she succumbed to the temptation to let her mind wander. Out there, somewhere, a friend was in danger. Out there, somewhere, someone she cared about needed her help. She could do nothing less than answer the call.

Nereid, thinking of her troubled friend, allowed herself to wade into the ocean of memory . . .

******

“- and in here is the pool.” A familiar, sisterly voice had said.

A door to the outside opened as Nereid finished her afternoon swim. The wash and flow of the water over her body was luxurious. She could have spent all day in the glory of its embrace. But her duties and responsibilities had called her out of her element. With a flip of her back she dived under the water, another flip of her legs and webbed feet easily propelled her to the edge of the swimming pool.

Splashing up out of the water she glanced over to where the door had opened, checking to see who was there. As the palms of her hands braced against the deck of the pool area, she recognized two forms in the doorway. One contained the bodily essence of her sister; but the recognition of the other - tall, stately, commanding, but with an air of compassion etched onto his countenance - needed a memory to jog it from its place in her mind.

With a grace and fluidity of a water sprite, Nereid lifted the rest of her body out of the water and stood on her own two feet. As she squeezed excess water out of her hair with her hand, the memory became dislodged from its place of hiding - Churchill, Manitoba on a day last October. It had been a rare day of complete fun and frivolity. She and her sister had spent the day playing with this same figure. Nereid had been seeking an escape for a day from the tension of the life she led as member of the Canadian Shield. He had played a part in that escape most handsomely. She had had frequent recourse to remember that blissful day in the months that had followed.

Grabbing a nearby towel and drying her face, she went a few steps closer, “Jacob right? We met once in Churchill Manitoba?”

“Ah, yeah.” He had said simply, his eyes focusing on her’s.

“It wasn’t in Churchill, but a little ways away wasn’t it?” Sylph managed to pipe up.

“Close enough.” Nereid replied, rolling her eyes. She returned her attention to Jacob, looking at his face in more detail. Nereid had tried to remember what Jacob had looked like over the months since October, but she knew the mind sometimes played tricks. She scanned his face, comparing it to the image she held in her mind.

There were differences to be sure: the searching eyes were still there, but gone was the unbridled newness he had shown. Gone too was a certain inexperience, replaced by a self-confidence and ease in his shoulders and wings. The innocence was still there, in the corners of his eyes, but it did not seem to shine as brightly as it had before. Encompassing the face, and the body that contained the face, was a warmth and a comfort that she felt towards him, though she was uncertain as to what prompted that feeling.

All this was taken in to be judged and remembered in the span of a breath.

“I’ve heard you’ve been involved in some excitement down south recently - teamed up with Trinity and the Outsider right?” Nereid asked, drying her hair lightly now and moving closer.

“Ah, yeah.” Jacob replied, not moving. His gaze continuing to be transfixed on the figure in front of him.

“And now you’re here, helping us to get ready for the Royal Elite in Ireland - out of the frying pan and into the fire, huh?” Nereid continued, edging closer still. There was only about two metres separating them now. What was it about him that made her feel so strangely comfortable and secure?

Jacob seemed to have difficulty swallowing, as if his mouth had gone dry. “Yeah.”

Nereid felt an odd tingle wash over her body as she finally looked away, suddenly very conscious that she was only wearing a bathing suit. She didn’t know why that made her self-conscious; her uniform was barely less revealing, and she often went out, and was even photographed, in it. What was different here?

Nereid’s eyes flashed back up to meet Jacob’s.

“Nereid, are you hot? You’re turning red.” Sylph commented inopportunely.

It was Jacob’s turn to look away, suddenly blushing. Nereid smiled, a laugh caught in her throat. The simplicity and vulnerability of Jacob’s action, not to mention the incongruity of a 7’+ angelic figure blushing, suddenly and completely endeared him to Nereid.

“I’m going to go get changed. Maybe we can talk some more later - tell each other what we’ve been up to.” Nereid offered, her head half-cocked to the side.

“But you haven’t talked yet. How can you talk later, if you haven’t really talked now?” Sylph interjected.

Jacob seemed not to notice Sylph’s comment, his eyes having locked on to Nereid’s, “Yeah. I’d like that; it’d be nice.”

A smile and another glance passed between them before Jacob hesitantly turned away. As he and Sylph exited the pool, the door closing behind them, Nereid could faintly here Jacob asking her sister a question.

“So, tell me about you and your sister.”

******

“- and there are pictures, and stories, and everything - you just won’t believe it!” Sylph rattled on, her eyes getting bigger along with her gestures. Suddenly, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial level, turning towards her sister; “I mean, it’s just got to be him.”

Nereid’s jaw tensed slightly before she turned away, “I don’t believe it. It can’t be him - not the real him at least.”

She walked further into the police station, with a quicker step than before. She weaved her slight frame elegantly between officers, criminals in handcuffs, and civilians. Normally, if she had been wearing her Canadian Shield costume, the way would have parted before her, as it did for her sister. But Nereid was not in the habit of prancing around in public in such attire; she preferred a more conservative look. Indeed, if it had been entirely up to her, and if it was more efficient in stopping those who would do others harm, she would wear a full-piece wetsuit.

But it was not entirely up to her. Few things were. She had certain duties and obligations that were more important than petty vanities, more important than base emotions.

Here, in the police office, where there was little threat of immanent danger, she was simply attired. Her dark brown hair was pushed back over her ears, staying in place with simple clips on either side of her head. A simple, light blue blouse and navy pants completed the outfit, along with basic leather-looking flats. Bright green eyes shone out of stunning and delicate features on a beautiful face.

Nereid stopped for a moment as she reached an intersection of sorts at the Montreal police headquarters, a frown settling unnaturally upon her countenance. She wasn’t exactly certain where they were supposed to be headed. With a sigh and a shake of her head, she waited for her sister to catch up.

“What was that for?” Sylph asked plaintively as she floated to her sister. “You don’t need to get all huffy at me.”

“I’m not getting huffy.” Nereid replied, fighting down a huff.

“Yeah, you are.” Sylph countered, “You’re my sister remember, I can tell these things. Why all the ‘grrrr’ anyways? I’m just telling you what we know; I thought you’d like to be caught up on everything that’s be-”

“Can you just tell me which way we’re supposed to go?” Nereid interjected, a touch of frustration entering her voice.

“Ooh, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the pond this morning.” Sylph quipped. She looked around for a moment before turning down the corridor on the left. “It’s not like I’m saying anything you won’t be hearing soon anyways. I thought it would be nice if you heard it from me first. I mean, Jacob and you were friends and all, so I thought it would be best coming from me. It’s not like -.”

Nereid shot Sylph a near universal look that indicated one was treading on dangerously thin ice. In her usual manner, Sylph ignored the threat within the look.

“OhmyGod! I didn’t-”, Sylph stammered, her eyes alight and her mouth partially agape. “When you said he was cute I thought you meant, you know, like puppy-dog cute. I didn’t know you meant hot cute! This is sooo cool.”

Sylph paused for a moment, tilting her head to one side, “Except that he might be a psychopath.”

“He is not a psychopath!” Nereid shot back through clenched teeth.

“Or maybe delusional. I’d say schizophrenic - if I actually knew what it meant.” Sylph continued, undaunted.

“It hasn’t ever stopped you from opening your big mouth before.” Nereid replied, her eyes narrowing as her voice lowered into the danger range.

“True.” Sylph said simply. She was, after all, her sister, and if you couldn’t be open around your sister, who could you be. “Well, we’re here.”

They had stopped outside an impressive wooden door at the end of corridor, somewhere in the maze that is many office buildings. Nereid took a breath to calm herself, relaxing the tension out of her body before it would no doubt receive more of the same. While Blaze’s comments tended to be more subtly pointed, at least he knew when to back off. Unfortunately, in the case of Sylph, familiarity did not breed contempt so much as apathy. She would say what was on her mind, regardless of how appropriate it might be. Sometimes that was good, but other times it was annoying as hell. This was one of those hellish times.

Straightening her blouse, Nereid reached for the door handle. Sylph couldn’t help but make another comment just as Nereid was opening the door, thus ending this particular discussion; “I don’t know why you’re so upset. It’s not like you’ve known him a long time.”

Nereid came dangerously close to throttling her sister at that moment, but her reserve and sense of self prevented that from happening. Besides, she did have a point, Nereid admitted to herself. How well did she really know Jacob anyway? Maybe he was some sort of maniac, and the other, kindlier self was just an act?

No, deep down somewhere she didn’t believe that. She had drunk deeply of his eyes, but had also listened to the words and the silence that flowed between them. Jacob, the Jacob she knew, was troubled yes, but there was a deep and abiding soul in him. A soul hidden with troubles, but waiting to shine forth. She could swear it. But she had been wrong before.

She easily recognized Blaze as she followed her sister into the room. As usual, he was wearing a stylish sports coat sans tie. Along with the sports coat he wore his nearly perpetual, cynical half-smile, his eyes grabbing her attention and acknowledging her presence. But there was something else in his expression, just under the surface. She wasn’t certain what it was exactly, but something was there - like the ocean - just below the surface.

Three other people were there and quick introductions were made. The chief of police, the superintendent of metahuman affairs, and the detective who had been working on the case were all there. It wasn’t long before they launched into the heart of the meeting. Nereid sat back in stunned silence as the meeting progressed. The others talked about the progress of the case, the lack of results at apprehending any of the metahumans involved, and the fact that there seemed to have been a change of leadership in one of the biker gangs, which had led to further violence. But the issue that most perturbed Nereid was that the Canadian Shield had been called in about a week ago. No one had mentioned any of this to her, at the time, or since.

After more suggestions and proposals were put forward and plans of actions formulated, the meeting finally came to an end. The participants left, each to their own tasks. Blaze himself, hurried out of the room, the heat of Nereid’s glare lighting a fire beneath him. Unfortunately, out in the hallway the aquatic nymph caught up to him.

“So, how long have you known or suspected Jacob might have been involved in this?” Nereid asked slowly and deliberately. Antarctica’s icepack grew by several miles.

Blaze flinched inwardly, “What do you mean? We never mentioned Jacob at the meeting. Where’d you get the idea that he was our prime suspect?”

“From Sylph. She told me.” Nereid replied in the same tone. Blaze shut his eyes tight for a moment. Of all the people in the Canadian Shield, Nereid was probably the genuinely nicest one of the bunch. Ironically, as most of them had also discovered, she was also probably the one you least wanted angry with you.

“We shouldn’t talk about it here; let’s wait until we get to the car.” Blaze said, hoping to postpone the inevitable.

“Fine.” A large iceberg appeared in the Atlantic seemingly from out of nowhere.

They walked quickly out into the main foyer of the police building and then out onto the street. They walked without a sound except for the sound of their footsteps. Even Sylph’s instincts told her that now was not a time to talk. They made quick headway as the spectre of a dark, threatening cloud hung around them, subconsciously pushing people to move out of the way.

It was with some reluctance that Blaze stopped in front of a sporty, little red number of a car. It wouldn’t have been any use to keep walking anyways; Sylph knew which car was his and she would have brought Nereid to it anyway. Pressing a button, the locks released. Nereid held the seat up for Sylph to climb into the back; from her very stance it was clear there was no hope of saying that Sylph needed more room for her wings and so should sit in the front. Nereid quickly got in the car afterwards and slammed the door. Ba’al, the prince of the second level of hell, sighed, preparing for the storm to strike.

The car’s engine roared to life as the hurricane winds struck.

“Why did no one tell me that Jacob might have been involved in less than savoury activities here in Montreal?” Nereid demanded; though her voice held the tone of a question, there was no denying the steel within.

Sylph remained quiet in the back. She had asked a similar question as well and had met with vague, unsatisfactory answers.

“Well, we thought-” Blaze began.

“Who’s we?” Nereid interjected.

“Cavalier and myself.” Blaze answered, hesitantly. Somewhat satisfied in knowing that he would not be the only one to feel the fury of this particular tidal wave.

“All right, go on.”

“Cavalier thought, and I agreed, that under the circumstances it might be wise if you weren’t involved in this particular case.” Blaze continued, hoping to shift some of the blame.

“And what are these circumstances?” The interrogation continued unabated.

“Your personal involvement with Jacob,” Blaze replied forcefully, trying to change the direction of this conversation and go on the offensive. It had been the right decision; the best one that could have been made - at the time. “We were worried that it would cloud your judgement; that you wouldn’t be able to perform your duties as a member of Canadian Shield in the way you should. We were also worried about you - that you would take this information badly. We might not have been wrong on that account.”

“In other words, my emotions would get the better of me.” Nereid said, her voice changing tone to a more personal one. “That somehow emotions cloud judgements and decisions that are meant to be somehow impartial. Well then Mr. Hellblazer, how do you explain your involvement in this case? And please, do not patronize me, or insult my intelligence by saying it is your superior knowledge in matters supernatural. That is an incomplete answer at best and I would very much like a full one.”

Blaze made a left turn down a side street, buying himself some time to form a response. “It was partly because of my expertise; partly, because when we did receive the official request for aid, I thought it might have been Jacob. Cavalier made the decision that I was the best person to go.”

“I doubt that very much.” Nereid interjected, deftly parrying his argument. “You have made no false pretence about your desire to have a go at Jacob. For whatever reason, you rub each other the wrong way. Cavalier knows this. He also knows your penchant for . . . over-reacting in certain circumstances. Those circumstances tend to be when your emotions are fully engaged. In such encounters I am usually paired with you, I wasn’t in this case. I am curious to know why?”

“Because, Cavalier at least didn’t want you to get hurt.” Blaze finally admitted. His own reasons had been slightly different.

“I am a member of the Canadian Shield. I know my duty, what I am required to do. I am required to act for the greater good, regardless of personal feelings. I have done so in the past, and I will continue to do so.” Nereid said, her voice hinting at a small part of the hurt she felt. “I am not a child. Nor am I some hysterical, emotional woman that needs to be protected. What I need is to be treated with the respect I deserve for the damn good job I do on a daily basis. Here, that job is stopping Jacob from whatever it is that has made him like this. Short of killing him, or putting him in a coma, that is what I intend to do.”

“Good.” Blaze answered weakly.

“And what about you?” Nereid continued, asking the question that Blaze had almost managed to evade. “Why didn’t you want me here?”

“I don’t have to answer anything.” Blaze responded testily. He wanted a shot at Jacob. Though the angel seemed a little de-powered in the mortal form he wore, Blaze wanted nothing more than to have one really good crack at Jacob. Nereid’s presence and force of will made that difficult.

“You’re right.” Nereid said calmly, her voice containing a subtle warning that she, too, knew Blaze’s desire. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”

For a few minutes they drove in silence, making their way out of downtown Montreal to a secure location. As the minutes pasted, and like the ebb and flow of the tide, Nereid’s initial anger receded. There was a mission to do after all, and more importantly, a friend to save.

“So, why did you call me in now?” Nereid asked, anger no longer apparent in her voice.

Blaze took this for what it was; a natural part of Nereid’s personality. “For the same reason we didn’t want you here in the first place: you were closest to Jacob, maybe you can help us bring him in. Is there anything you remember about Jacob that might be useful?”

Nereid blinked a few times, then turned her face to the window. Could she remember anything about Jacob that might be useful in capturing him? The problem was, the Jacob they had been sent here to catch, didn’t sound at all like the Jacob she remembered. As she silently gazed out of the speeding car, her memory fled back to the first time they had met.

******

It was a beautiful day in October. The sky was clear and the air fresh, with just a touch of crispness to suggest the fall season. The sun was beaming happily upon the creatures in this part of Hudson’s Bay. Increasing the loveliness of the day, Nereid and Sylph had been given the day off. Their playful natures taking over, they decided to frolic out in the Bay: one day simply given over to play.

It was hard not to miss him, standing by the beach near Churchill. He did, as he had said later, look something like a lighthouse standing upon the earth. And when Sylph and Nereid came closer for a look, Nereid couldn’t help but smile at the expression of utter earnestness on Jacob’s face. It was clear, beyond any doubt, that he was desperately trying to act as he thought he should - as befit his appearance and stature.

Sylph, in her straight-forwardness, shattered the act that Jacob was trying to maintain. Before Nereid’s eyes the mask fell, and in its place was left an innocence and excitement that she would not soon forget.

The two sisters took him into their company that day, helping him spread his wings and realize the possibility and pleasure that came along with the responsibility of power. They danced, in the air and sea, simply allowing the glory of the day to be.

During a moment in the afternoon, Sylph was off by herself doing tricks in the air, as Jacob and Nereid watched together from a distance.

Turning to face Nereid, and with a smile as big as his wingspan, Jacob glowed: “Thank you: both for rescuing me from the shore, and my own pretentiousness about the whole ‘metahuman’ thing.”

“Don’t sweat it Jacob.” Nereid replied, floating on her back and looking up at Jacob.

“I have to sweat it a little.” Jacob chuckled. “Not only are you and your sister national icons, and showing me for the first time what it might actually be like to be a metahuman, you’re helping me remember who I am - or was.”

“You still are that person, you know?” Nereid replied, softness creeping into her voice. “Wings and some light doesn’t change that.”

“You’d be surprised.” Jacob countered, disarming the comment with a chuckle. Still, Nereid’s expression turned quizzical with a touch of concern. Seeing her expression, Jacob continued. “It’s funny. Before all this - when I was in university - I did a paper on metahumans and their tendency to resort to violence in problem-solving: I argued it was not genetic, but rather part of an underdeveloped ethical centre. Powers and abilities beyond the range of ordinary humans, lead to an over-reliance on those abilities. That reliance leads to a feeling in the metahuman that they are no longer bound to the Hobbesian social contract, and so can do whatever their will and power can grant. It was a bad paper; the prof seemed to like it though.”

“I thought,” Jacob struggled for the right words, “I thought all that was necessary was a constant awareness and respect for the human person. I don’t know anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Nereid asked. “You do have to remember and respect that it is another human, or sentient, being you’re facing and will be affected by whatever you do.”

“I know, and I hold onto that as hard as I can, but,” Jacob hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt anybody, I want to help. But when somebody is threatening others, it’s like another part of me wants to kick in. My first reaction, in some way or another, is to harm the person threatening: shoot his hand, do something like that. Why don’t I want to talk anymore?”

“I don’t know.” Nereid responded, but the thought was not merely an outside thought anymore. She repeated in a whisper, “I don’t know.”

“I don’t know Jacob.” Nereid continued. “I think it’s something we all have to struggle with. Not only, what is the line that we will not cross, but also why is it we do the things we do with the gifts we have? To be honest, it’s not something foreign to my mind either. And I think that’s good; if you weren’t thinking about it, you’d probably be a very different person.”

“Maybe. It’s just . . . I never wanted to hurt anybody.” Jacob offered, then seemingly corrected himself. “I don’t want to hurt anybody. I’m just scared I will, and what will happen then.”

Nereid studied Jacob for a moment with concern and compassion, but also something else - hope. Some of those same thoughts were also never far from her mind. Unfortunately, not enough metahumans had the same concern. She wanted to reach out and touch Jacob at that moment, comfort him in some way. Just then Sylph came back, pushing Jacob playfully into the water. The smiles came back to their faces, and the three of them enjoyed the rest of the day together.

******

Nereid watched the buildings fly by, her thoughts slowly returning to the present. “If what you say about Jacob is true, about the destruction and injuries he’s caused, then I don’t think I can really help you. That’s not the Jacob I know.”

******

Their plan was a simple one given the uncertain nature of their quarry, and the near wanton flight of their quarry’s prey. Blaze and Sylph would patrol the night sky in the assumption that Jacob, wearing his aura of light, would use the air to travel. Nereid, meanwhile, would patrol the St. Lawrence. All of them would keep in radio contact, and should Jacob appear, the plan was to drive him towards the riverbank and converge together on him.

It wasn’t a bad plan. However, like so often is the case, they did not give full appreciation to their opponent.

Sylph was the first one to encounter the former member of the angelic hosts. She was patrolling high in the sky, for a maximum vantage point, when what appeared to be a large, glowing seagull cut across her vision. She studied it for a moment, discerning long legs and an intensity of purpose she could not recall noticing in other gulls. The glowing form landed very ungull-like on the top of a building. Sylph moved closer, descending from her altitude.

“Nereid, Blaze, the eagle has landed. He’s at the corner of Atwater and Sherbrooke. I’m moving in.” Sylph spoke into a barely noticeable mouthpiece.

“Watch yourself Sylph - remember, he’s dangerous.” Blaze’s voice crackled over the headset, “I’ll be there momentarily.”

“But don’t forget, we don’t know what’s happened to him.” Nereid’s voice countered, “We don’t want another incident like with Blockade and the Dictator.”

“This isn’t anything like that: I knew what was going on and was trying to help Blockade. But here,” Blaze shot back across the radio waves; “Jacob’s just showing his true colours.”

“And you base this on what? Your own instincts, maybe you shouldn’t ju-” Nereid started, before Blaze’s voice cut her off.

“I knew you’d get too emotionally involved in this.” Blaze said, a touch above a mumble.

“And what is that supposed to mean?!!” Nereid returned, not without a hint of anger in her voice.

“It means . . .”

Sylph let out a sigh, not that anyone was listening. It was a little ironic really, people often saw her as sometimes childish and flippant, but now some of those same people were yelling at each other over a comm link when they should have been coordinating their efforts. If only Cavalier or Catamount were here to overhear the two squabbling, they might not take such a hard-line with her as they sometimes did.

“Signing off now.” Sylph said, adding her voice momentarily to the mix. Turning a lever in her earpiece the voices suddenly vanished, replaced with the sounds of the night. Her diaphanous wings fluttering out behind her, Sylph carefully descended towards the angelic figure she had known as Jacob. Continuing to stare off into the night of the street below, he appeared not to notice the small, sprightly figure approaching from behind. Didn’t notice, or didn’t care; Sylph wasn’t sure which one made her more uneasy.

Plucking up her own innate fearlessness, Sylph hovered towards the back of the angelic figure. “Hey Jacob, whatcha up to?”

The angel turned his face a quarter towards Sylph, a smile at some inside joke playing evilly across his features; “What is it that thou wishest?”

Moving to the side that the angel faced, Sylph replied with her usual candour, “ ‘Thou wishest?’ You’re doing that funny talk thing again aren’t you? Your voice sounds different too - do you got a cold?”

“The illness which you speak of is wrapped within the mortal coil, a coil that holds me tenuously to this form and to this world. Still, the Lord’s will be done.” The angel turned his glowing body to fully face Sylph, a frown creasing his brow. “Enough of this too human babble! Art thou here to aid or oppose my divine quest?”

Sylph appeared in intense contemplation for a moment, her eyes clearly showed her internal struggle for an answer. Finally, her face lit up; “So you’re possessed, or you’re possessing Jacob - you know, there are people who can help you with that kind of thing.”

“Nay, an angel doth not possess another. Our forms are our own, or that of willing hosts.” The angel replied through clenched teeth. “I am as I was pre-ordained: chief priest of this bodily temple.”

“Maybe Jacob’s an atheist - or Lutheran? Lutherans don’t have priests do they?” Sylph said, her head cocking slightly to one side.

“Enough!” The angel bellowed, raising his glowing fist out to arms length.” If thou art not on the side of the angels, then though art an ally of abomination.”

Sylph braced herself, preparing to dodge the light blast she knew was coming. She waited . . . and waited. Finally, relaxing a bit, she looked at the figure of Jacob more closely. His outstretched arm was trembling with tension, light floating around it. Muscles bulged in the arm, and the fingers wavered, yet the energy surrounding hand refused to lance out. Jacob’s brow was deeply furrowed in consternation, his eyes and lips hinting at internal deadlock. He clenched and unclenched his fist, his frustration becoming increasingly evident.

“Ya need any help there Mr. High Priest?” Sylph asked, witness to the conflict within. “Maybe the people don’t like what you’re doing to the temple?”

Sylph got a glimpse of a streak of fire rapidly approaching over Jacob’s left shoulder. Sylph’s eyes quickly flashed back to Jacob, hoping he hadn’t noticed. He had.

Quickly glancing over, rage seemed to explode in the angel. Extending his right arm, his left still oddly paralysed, a blast of light shot out at the gravel and tar beneath Sylph’s feet. The spray momentarily blinded the air sprite, as she heard Jacob yell, “Daughter of Babylon!”

Sylph puzzled over the odd expression for a moment, trying to determine if she had just been strangely insulted of if there was some secret meaning to the words. She returned to the present just in time to see Jacob start to take to the air. Wanting to keep Jacob on the roof until the others arrived, the angel’s flight was something Sylph had no intention of allowing. Bringing her powers to bear over the wind and air, the slight breeze quickly turned into near gale force winds, localized around one glowing figure.

The angel tried again to take off, and was again buffeted back to the ground. In fury, the angel shot at Sylph, but the high winds and the debris it picked up made aiming difficult. His jaw clenched tighter as he felt the foul presence of Ba’al closing. The angel caught a glimpse of the edge of the building. Unable to lift directly into the air, his light blast ineffective in the gale, and with a demon prince barrelling down on him, the angel decided to adjust his tactics.

Suddenly going with the winds around him, the angel let himself be driven towards the building’s edge. Then, with a sudden pivot, he was falling face first towards the ground. But not for long. As the angel had anticipated, the winds were confined to the skies above the building. Closer to ground level, in between buildings, while blustery, the winds were far more manageable. Like a shot the angel dashed quickly down a side street.

In an instant, Sylph was hovering high above the street, witness to the angel’s retreat. As she flew in the direction that Jacob had taken, she noticed the fiery form of Blaze streaking towards her, his face now visible.

Turning her communicator back on, Sylph looked towards Blaze; “Blaze, I don’t think it’s Jacob at all that’s been-”

A slight “crrck” sound followed by static cut off Sylph; the sound of Blaze’s communicator breaking into a thousand pieces on the concrete far below. Storming past Sylph, Blaze continued on the trail of the angel, a wicked gleam on his face.

“Ah, Nereid, I think we have a problem.” Sylph said, quickly falling in behind the twin trails of the devil and the angel.

******

The angel raced through the sky with Blaze not far behind, and Sylph trailing them both. Blaze pushed himself to go faster, cutting down the distance between him and Jacob. As soon as the demon prince got within range, small globes of fire began to appear at his fingertips before being launched at the fleeing angel.

The angel ducked and weaved through the night sky as small explosions of flame threatened him on all sides. The explosions quickened and then stopped, as the angel headed into the heart of the city. Skyscrapers and towers now ringing them on all sides as he sought the sanctuary of his own angelic agility. One false move here, one slow turn, and his mortal body would be slammed unforgivingly into the side of a building.

The angel knew the one behind him, as much as Blaze knew the angel - his strengths, his weaknesses, his determination. One advantage the angle had was in his quickness, as opposed to the flying flaming bulldozer behind him. The angel’s eye caught sight of what it was looking for. Taking a corner around a glass-plated building a touch wider than usual, the angel adjusted his flight sharply, flying into a gap barely two metres wide between two towers. Setting a globe of darkness in his opponent’s path, Simkiel waited, a shimmering sword in his hands.

Blaze watched as Jacob took the turn ahead of him. This was growing increasingly tiresome. Blaze longed to have the angel in his clutches, longed for the fight between them and his victory - but that was not the only reason why he wanted the angel of destruction broken before him. As Blaze turned the corner, following Jacob, a deep darkness suddenly descended upon the demon. A tingling washed over Blaze’s body, a gift from Death indicating the close proximity of the entity to Blaze’s person. He quickly threw himself down and to his right. A whistle and a shimmering light passed through where Blaze should have been.

As Blaze struggled to right himself in the air, the angel quickly descended. A flaming scythe barely materialized in time to block the murderous downward stroke of the angel’s multi-coloured blade. The angel struck again and again, pushing back Blaze all the while, keeping the demon off balance. But, slowly, the surprise of the attack wore off, and Blaze began to meet the angel’s advances with equal ferocity.

Flames began to dance on Blaze’s skin as his wrath continued to increase; the angel was almost back on his heels now. The blade of light came in again as the scythe moved forcefully up to block it. Blaze gave voice to his rage and the scythe swept through the shimmering blade, destroying its physical manifestation.

Blaze swept Death’s scythe back quickly towards the angel, looking for blood. Almost too late, the angel dodged out of the way. But the momentum and weight of the scythe forced Blaze’s body to turn, out of position for a quick second strike. The angel raised his arms as Blaze tensed for the bolt of light to strike.

Instead, stars exploded before the demon-prince’s eyes. When they had cleared, he caught the bare wisp of light as it disappeared behind a building in the distance. An infernal roar of frustration rocked the night’s sky, as Blaze quickly continued the pursuit.

Sylph, witness to the last moments of the encounter and the ensuing roar, spoke into the comm link; “We have to do something Nereid! Blaze is out for blood tonight, and I don’t think Jacob, or whatever it is that’s controlling him right now, would think twice about slicing and dicing Blaze either.”

“If I could only talk to Jacob,” Nereid said, “I know I’d be able to get through to him.”

“Well,” Sylph replied, a quizzical expression crossing her face, “just stay close by the river, I might be able to do something.”

******

His wings and clothing singed with black, the end result of flying to close to living fireballs or walls of flame suddenly appearing, the angel continued his war of attrition with Ba’al, the Lord of Wrath. Though Blaze also had the marks of one or two bolts of light tattooing his skin, the angel knew that it wasn’t enough. The side of light was losing; he was losing.

But as Job of old, this was not a mark against the light, but rather a test of it. He could see now that he had been proud and defiant, but the Impersonally Personal had not deigned it time for the demon’s demise; Ba’al must still have a purpose to play in the plan, why else would he have the upper hand here.

Still, the night was not over yet, the battle not yet lost. The angel could still be the ultimate winner in this encounter. Blaze’s wrath was burning hot, but if he was deprived of his victory, then that was also a defeat for the forces of chaos. All the angel needed to do was stop the demon’s rampage and live to fight another day.

Where is the shame of dying in battle, a familiar voice echoed within the angel’s head. And where is the glory in ignoble retreat?

“I do not have time for thy poisonous words now!” The angel spat.

Why not? We share the same body as well as something else of more lasting value, the voice intoned, what we do here, and elsewhere, is of great concern to our soul.

“Be gone from me,” the angel tensed, slowing his flight, “our destinies are not so entwined!”

A single-word, questioning echo reverberated in their shared mind - Really?

A screaming fireball suddenly plunged too close to the angel’s body as he quickly picked up speed once again.

******

Blaze, having visual contact with his prey once again, dived back into the fray. He had to admit, though his body seethed with wrath and flame, he was enjoying himself this night. His quarry was strong, quick and smart, convinced of the rightness of its cause; how few of his opponents could boast as much. Perhaps, even, on another day, they would be talking and trading barbs rather than deadly missiles - but might as well focus on today.

They were entering a new neighbourhood, not far from the river that spilt the city. The buildings here were lower, appearing more industrial than before, though sporting a fair number of warehouses as well. The angel’s covering was rapidly depleting, which meant so too was his advantage in flight. As long as Blaze could keep him from returning to the downtown core, this angel of destruction was his.

Ahead, the angel made a sudden and quick move, disappearing into one of the buildings. The warehouse appeared worn down, but that didn’t matter to Blaze; he could almost sense the angel waiting for him from within. The hellraiser picked up steam, flames licking his body, as he hurtled towards the wall beside the open window. Jacob’s plan was too obvious, and he wouldn’t fall for it tonight.

‘Jacob’s’ plan was subtler than Blaze had thought.

As Blaze ploughed through the wall like a wrecking ball, the angel hovered near the ceiling out of the way of the debris. As Blaze burst into the room, a fierce blast flashed from above, hurtling Blaze forward through a beam and another wall. The building, already well past its prime, began to totter and shake, finally sacrificing the roof of the room Blaze was in, and the contents above it, for the building’s greater structural integrity.

The angel, resting outside the collapsed roof, glanced at his handiwork. He knew bricks and mortar would not hold Blaze for long; now was the time to retreat. He had won this round by denying the demon-prince his victory, which was enough.

The wind began to pick up.

Breathing deeply, the angel turned his attention on deciding on the direction to go. The wind rippled his wings, making it increasingly difficult to fly. Suddenly, the force of the wind became too great and he was tumbling, out of control. Struggling to right himself, the winds finally retreated as he landed with a splash in cold, icy water.

He quickly stood, shaking himself off. The water dug its icy tendrils deep into his calves, as he gathered himself. As his teeth threatened to chatter, he moved himself to hover above the water. The lapping of a wave grew.

Turning quickly, his arm glowing and outstretched, he faced this newest opponent.

“Hi Jacob.” Nereid whispered, raising herself out of the water.

The glow in the angel’s arm intensified for a second, hiding an explosion of inner struggle. As the angel contemplated firing upon Nereid, it could find no basis for doing so. She was an innocent in this struggle; she had done nothing to suggest opposition. In fact, she seemed to be deliberately not using her powers, though she could have. She was unarmed and innocent - he had no right to fire.

Through this thought, another consciousness exploded onto the scene. Twisting, struggling, wrestling for control, Jacob used the momentary mental hesitation to his advantage.

The angel let out a scream as the body dropped back into the water. Exhausted it struggled to rise.

“Jacob?” Nereid asked, her face creased with worry.

Breathing heavily, a struggle playing out through the muscles around his eyes, Jacob looked up at Nereid, offering a weak smile. “Hey.”

“Are you okay?” Nereid said, moving closer to Jacob though fighting the instinct to rush to his side.

“A little cold,” Jacob said as his teeth began to chatter from the freezing water, “but, no, I’m not alright.”

Nereid couldn’t help herself any longer. She had seen the eyes that had fixed on her before, and had not recognized them. But these were different eyes, these were the eyes of Jacob. She knew them well.

“Let me help you,” Nereid offered, gripping his hand and wrapping her other slender arm partially around Jacob.

“Thank you, but this feels . . . good. It feels real.” Jacob replied, feeling strangely warm in Nereid’s embrace. Suddenly, his face twisted slightly. “I do need your help though.”

“Sylph told me there was something else inside you, controlling you.” Nereid said, her eyes drinking in the lines of Jacob’s face. “What can I do?”

Jacob grimaced, as the angel, howling in protest, slammed itself against his consciousness; “Knock me out; take me down hard - do something. I can’t-, I can’t fight him out here. Please, you have to do something-”

“We can get you help?” Nereid countered, a touch of fear entering her expression. On whatever it was that was controlling Jacob, she could use her powers, but she wasn’t sure if she could when Jacob’s eyes were shining back at her. “We can get people who can help you, who can teach you to fight off this thing. Like Catamount - you’re stronger than this thing, you can fight it.”

“I can’t.” Jacob struggled, not being able to articulate the impossibility of such a sustained ‘fight’. To force one side to be dominant over the other would be to perpetuate a struggle that would never end, a struggle that would forever leave him broken and torn. That was not the way. “I fight, I die. Please-”

Nereid paused for a second, she didn’t fully understand, but; “Then, maybe its not the fighting; but there are people who can help you work this thing out. You just have to stay here, please? From what I hear, you’re a little insane when you’re not you.”

Jacob smiled, gaining a brief respite from the growing struggle for control within; “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell myself. I don’t know, this thing is fairly strongly connected with my body.”

“I do,” Nereid interjected, her hand subconsciously coming up to softly caress his face. “There were glimpses of it before weren’t there - this other part of you? It must have been hell, but you found a way to rise above it. I can’t say I know what that’s like, but it seems like it would take a pretty strong person to hold something like that in check for so long.”

Jacob stared at Nereid, aware that he had stopped trembling from the icy water. Oddly, at Nereid’s touch, he remembered the only two other people who had touched him like that. While Vamp’s touch had been cold, highly sexual, and perversely inviting; and Teresa’s had been tinged with desperation; Nereid’s was . . . different. It was strange, but he almost felt like trying just for her sake.

Nereid continued, “I’m not asking you to hold it in check forever, if that’s not what you want. I suspect you know yourself, and what you need, better than I do. All I’m asking is that you fight it until we can get others to help you.”

Tenuously, like silk fibres stretched snugly over a frame, Jacob could feel himself pushing back against the angel’s vicious mental onslaught. Almost despite himself, he heard himself whispering, “I can try.”

Nereid swallowed hard, “Because I don’t think I could try and hurt you.”

Jacob and Nereid sat like that as a moment passed, then another. Nereid could do nothing but be there as she watched Jacob struggle against the demon within him. Jacob, for his part, clung tenaciously to the sliver of possession he had over his shared body. The battle raged, the outcome uncertain, but Nereid’s support was strengthening Jacob as he pushed back against the angel.

A high pitched whistle ripped through the air as both Nereid and Jacob’s gaze was drawn skyward. A huge fireball raced towards the pair.

Reacting on instinct, Nereid dived into the water, losing her contact with Jacob. Submerged she was safe, but what about Jacob? And beyond that, what had happened? As the fireball and the water met, great plumes of steam obscured sight all around.

As the heat of the steam died, Nereid’s head quickly bobbed to the surface. The only figure that could be seen was one of flame that hovered over the spot that Nereid and Jacob had once been.

“Where’d he go?” Blaze asked, searching the sky for a trace of his angelic opponent. None was found.

Nereid herself searched the sky, and found it empty. Without a word, she slid back underneath the water, disappearing under the waves.

******

The dark, blackened sky began to lighten, changing into a deep blue. Fingers of light, caught against the clouds, erupted and changed: from blues and purples, to reds and oranges. The sky lightened in the east, as rays of light pushed back the darkness of the night. A slip of a disc crested against the horizon, a herald to a new day.

A figure - slight, feminine, alone - watched the magnificent natural show in silence. Though alone, she remembered to whom she paid silent homage in watching the morning spectacle, suddenly feeling both comforted and starkly more alone than ever before.

As she watched the yellow orb of the sun climb further into the sky, she was aware of the rustle of the grass behind her. She did not turn, but continued staring into the sky. A bundle of diaphanous wings and spritely beauty landed beside her, proceeding to sit on the grass.

“Blaze can’t sense him anywhere in Montreal. He thinks Jacob might have flown somewhere else.” Sylph began, guessing the news her sister would most like to hear.

“Stop calling him Jacob.” Nereid corrected softly. “That wasn’t Jacob that he tried to kill - you and I both know that.”

Sylph, uncomfortable and uncertain as to what to say, finally piped up; “Blaze thinks he’s alive at least; that’s good news right?”

“He is alive.” Nereid simply replied. He was alive, alone, scarred, no longer in control of his body, subject to the depredations of a cruel mental master. But he was, at least, alive - Nereid could feel it.

Sylph exercised her jaw a few times before finally asking the major question on her mind; “Blaze said he was sorry; when are you going to forgive him?”

Staring out at the morning sky, memories danced in her mind like precious gems. “Not yet.”

Nereid remembered back through the mists of memory, to before the Ireland invasion. They had been training, the Canadian Shield along with Jacob, in preparation for that fight. One morning Nereid woke up early, deciding to go for an early swim in the waters of Hudson’s Bay.

As she went outside, she noticed a sole figure silhouetted against the morning sky. Jacob, his wings and large frame identifying him easily, seemed oblivious to the world around him, watching the sun slowly rise. Not wanting to interrupt his revelry, but feeling an overwhelming desire to be close to him, Nereid made her way over to Jacob.

Jacob, hearing her presence, turned and flashed her a smile to rival the sun. “Hey, I thought I was the only one up.”

Nereid felt a strange tingle in her arms and legs, she was not exactly sure why.

“I just thought I’d go for a swim.” Nereid replied, suddenly finding she wanted to stay here with Jacob. “What about you? Why are you up so early?”

Jacob smiled, offering by his body language a seat beside him in the morning air. Nereid accepted the unspoken offer. Jacob, after she had sat down, turned his attention back to the growing light. “I always seem to be up early; don’t know why really, I never was a morning person before. I used to stay out late, sleep in - you know, the usual. I used to even like the night.”

Jacob paused for a moment, struggling to express the way things had changed. Nereid patiently waited for Jacob to continue; “But now, I don’t like it. I like the day, when it wraps me in its warmth when the sun rises. Every evening, when the shadows lengthen, I feel cold, I look behind be, I sleep badly. But when those first rays touch me, my strength returns intact. I feel . . . safe.”

Nereid looked up at Jacob, both losing herself and feeling strengthened in herself by what she saw. Looking out across the water, out towards the east, she saw herself watching the sun rise for the first time. It felt . . . good.

A chill breeze building from the beginning of the creation of the earth blew softly across the northern plains. Nereid shivered. Without a thought, a giant wing swept out behind Nereid, sheltering her from the breeze. Gently, without even being aware, it wrapped itself protectively around the young water sprite, drawing the wing’s owner and Nereid closer together. Silent, they watched the sun rise into the sky.