The world swirled into an all-obscuring white fog around him, shifting and spinning until he thought he would fall. But there was nowhere to fall, nowhere else to go, nowhere even to be until the fog finally melted into the playground he remembered from his youth.

He turned, wondering if it had really changed so little, and he caught sight of the playground's lone inhabitant. A girl, older than he had been when he last played here but certainly much younger than he was now, sat idly on a nearby swing. Her short dark hair curled around her face and ears, giving her expression an unruly, impish cast.

Despite her apparent youth, there was something that made him wary of her. "Where am I?" he demanded, careful not to get too close. "What is this place?"

The girl on the swing looked up, seeming to notice him for the first time. She cocked her head, regarding him curiously. "Who are you?"

His eyes narrowed. "Mithro."

"Who are you?" she repeated, as though she hadn't heard.

"I'm a warrior," he told her, fingers clenching. "My name is Mithro."

"Why are you a warrior?"

He frowned. "Because some things need protecting."

"What things?" she asked innocently, her green eyes blinking up at him.

"My family. The world."

"Do you fight for the world?" she wondered aloud. "Or against it? The world is a big place."

Sometimes it *felt* like he was fighting the world, but he didn't say so. "I fight for it, of course."

"Why?"

He frowned again, but the answer came before he could think about it. "Because it can't fight for itself."

"The world?"

"The people are killing it."

"So you kill them?"

"No!" Who was she, that she would ask a question like that? "The people are part of the world. You can't kill one without hurting the other."

The dark-haired girl smiled happily at that. "You are ready to move on."

He stiffened, alarmed. He knew what she meant by that; somehow, he had always known. "I can't! I haven't finished!"

"You have learned more than you knew before." She studied him with an intensity that was disconcerting, coming from such young eyes. "Is it that you aren't finished, or that you are scared?"

He was scared. "I don't want to lose what I am," he admitted, wondering how much she understood. She looked too young to have ever faced death herself.

"What is gained is never lost," she told him, squirming on the swing to rest one bare foot against the ground. She pushed against the sand, causing her swing to rock a little. "You only become more than what you were."

"But that means that what I am now is lost!"

She frowned at him. "You are not today what you were yesterday, but that doesn't bother you. Yesterday's you is gone, and today's you has taken his place. You become more every day."

"So I'll still be the same individual," he said doubtfully.

"No. But your individuality will go on." She pushed against the sand again, setting the swing in gentle motion. "As much as it can when 'people are a part of the world'."

That was a riddle his lover would enjoy, he thought with a small smile. The smile faded almost as soon as it came, and he asked quietly, "Let me say goodbye."

"Of course." She let go of her swing with one hand to wave him off, and the warmth of the tent sprang up all around him.

His best friend didn't stir, and he swallowed hard. He twisted in the blankets to regard his lover's face, feeling tears well up in his eyes as he did so. The other had slept so little recently, all energies going into nursing Mithro back to health. It was as though the one couldn't survive without the other...

His head snapped up, and anger flared to life within him as an eerily familiar memory overlaid everything else. This wasn't the first time this had happened... He wasn't a "new" soul, being tested for the first time--he *knew* that girl!

*Kes!* he shouted, not wanting to leave his lover's side but unable to let this go without a fight. *Kes, show yourself!*

The white fog flitted across his eyes again, and the playground faded back into view. The girl was sitting cross-legged in the sand this time, and she didn't open her eyes as he appeared. "You wanted something?"

He strode over to her, memories flooding into him with every step. He was sure he wasn't supposed to remember until after she released him, but something had triggered this and he wasn't going to ignore it. "When was I last tested?" he demanded, and her head came up.

Her eyes were blue this time, and he could swear she was staring at him now, instead of through him. "Pollux?" she asked, sounding slightly surprised.

He shook his head once. "Castor."

She blinked. "I thought you must be one of them." She turned her head a little, and somehow he saw the tent through her eyes. "Together again, I see."

He refused to look, knowing the tears would come again if he did. "Please," he said quietly. "Take him now, while he sleeps."

She looked back up at him, her gaze unblinking. "You know I can't, Castor."

"And you know he'll die without me!" He sank to the ground in front of her, not looking away from her eyes no matter how the cobalt fire burned his own. "Please," he whispered, swallowing hard. "Don't let him wake alone."

The night crept in at the edges of his vision, threatening his entire world with indigo light, and still he didn't look away. Finally, as though from a great distance, he heard her say, "You will not be able to watch while he is tested."

He couldn't speak, but he felt his lips move anyway. *I'll wait.*

Deep blue flashed brilliant white, and he was surrounded by fog again. With no breath and no heartbeat, he had no way of marking time, but he endured. He had done it before, and he suspected he would do it again. Going on alone was no option.

***

He saw a flashlight flicker on outside the tent, outlining a menacing shadow on the colored fabric. "Rrrrr," a childish voice whispered, mimicking the quietest monster in the world.

The boy giggled, lunging for the tent flap and tumbling out into the still night air. Someone leapt on him as he hit the grass, blonde hair shining in the flashlight glow and bright blue eyes alight with laughter. "The monster will get you!" Zhane hissed, making grabby motions with his fingers.

Andros shoved him away, stifling an indignant screech so as not to wake the adults and get them in trouble for roughhousing. "Not if he gets you first!" he whispered, going for his friend's flashlight. Zhane wrapped his other hand around it and they tugged the single light back and forth, giggling together as the stars sparkled overhead.