Heavy footsteps clanked along a corridor. The buildings here were built to take the weight of a soldier wearing more than his own weight in iron plates, so the floor didn't bow or creak at all. But this figure's boots weren't made from mere iron, or even the rarer, harder metals. These were boots of diamond, white and gold gems held together by a webbing of fused crystal to make armour which even the heaviest broadsword or axe would glance off. The difference was that the stones chimed like a hundred bells with each step, turning a simple clatter of footsteps into a choir of pure tones in perfect harmony.

"Lord Belnichraithor," a page ran up, out of breath. The boy was wearing only a light leather jerkin to protect him from any enemy's strike, but he was still out of breath from running to keep up with his Lord's brisk walk. "We have news from the front. They say there are demons on the Southern Promontory, at least three of them. The mortal knights cannot stand against–"

"I understand. I assume the Captain there has given the order to withdraw until we can offer our support. I will–"

"Nico!" another shout drowned out both of their voices, a yell of pure rage. Another figure strode down the passage in the opposite direction, but this one was wearing more than greaves and a breastplate. A carving of a phoenix surmounted the ornamental helmet, and a visor cut from two fist-sized rubies was locked down in front of Ammadrine's eyes. Any soldier in crystal armour was an imposing figure, adding a couple of spans to both height and breadth, but this particular suit was the third largest, and had massive gauntlets tipped with slivers of artificial diamond, sharp enough to punch through bronze with little effort. The whole impression was terrifying, enough that the page boy was backing away.

"You're here at last," Belnichraithor – Nico – raised his voice to answer, "What were you doing? No, don't answer. We all know. I don't want to hear how you'll try to justify yourself. You could have worked with us, we could have found a way to make an empire last for eternity, but you can't control yourself. Well, congratulations. The Rainbow Knights are torn apart, we're at each other's throats, and there's demons advancing through Pangea unchecked. You've sabotaged us when we put the most trust in you. So have you come to –"

"Enough!" Ammadrine's yell had enough force to stop a man in his tracks, but this time it was just a second thought, added on to a slap with a metallised-glass palm the size of a soup plate. The walls here were mere non-structural marble, and less than a span thick, so Nico and his armour crashed straight through into the courtyard below. Amma jumped down after him, and drifted slowly to a halt before dropping the last inch to the ground.

"Enough. You want to blame me, fine. It's my fault. I put my own needs first. I tried to disenchant the Immaculate Princess because it suited me, and I thought we would be safe letting go of the past and looking to the future. I was wrong, I was stupid, I was selfish. And now the whole world wants me punished for giving in to my human nature, but I'm not here for your gloating. I want to help. Do you understand that?"

"I'm sorry," Nico whispered, rising to his knees. He didn't stand yet, though. He didn't want to fight. "There are demons on the Southern Promontory. I need to go and fight them, see if we can hold them back. Someone has to clean up this mess."

"No. You stay here, you rally your troops, and see if the alchemists can repair my totem. And I'll go to fight those demons."

"You could die," he said, "You could die in disgrace."

"Then you'd better pray for me, and pray hard. Because I'm not the only one who had secrets. I know that you were scheming with Madir, and those secrets hurt your allies as much as any of my schemes. I won't forgive myself, but I won't forgive you two either. And I promise you, I swear by my own heart, I swear by the divine rings, I swear on destiny itself, if I set out to atone for my mistakes and then die because of your petty backbiting, I will have my revenge. I'll see you again, no matter how many times you circle the worlds of the living and the dead, and I will punish you."

There was a blur in the air, and the ruby-and-diamond suit was gone. Nico shook his head, and then staggered to his feet. The armour protected him from almost all harm, but his body still felt bruised whenever he went up against the power of true sorcery. There was something about that sheer force that no alchemy, no gemology, no enchantment could possibly diffuse completely.

He knew that Amma would defeat three demons. And in a way he was glad, because if there turned out to be more than three, they would have been in serious trouble. But still, he went to ensure that someone was giving the totem all of their attention. And then he went to pray, because no matter how much blood had been spilled, no matter the declarations of hatred, he wanted to believe that every one of his kind – even the ones who had been changed or corrupted by forces beyond any real comprehension – could be redeemed and trust each other given enough time. Enough lifetimes to repent.

Before he got to the chaplaincy, he was intercepted by Urdia. A man his own age who still looked like a young boy, especially when (like today) he was out of armour.

"Belnico," he greeted Nico with just an informal nod, "This is important. We've discovered how to–"

* * *

Nico sat bolt upright, and found himself off balance, falling. This wasn't his bed, he didn't know what was happening for a moment. Someone was bawling like a child at a funeral, but Nico couldn't grieve when he was still reeling from the shock of a rude awakening. There'd been a nightmare. Old memories again, about the day before...

He shook his head and tried again. A flailing arm managed to catch the edge of the coffee table and stop him rolling onto the floor. Arms wrapped tight around him, and the crying intensified. Nico – no, that wasn't his name. That was all a dream. Mel squinted in the half light, and wrapped an arm around Amber's shoulders.

"Hush," he whispered, wondering how to comfort her. "Sssh, I'm here. Whatever's wrong, I'll try to protect you." Then there was light, and Mom was standing in the door, looking at the two of them as if she didn't know what to think.

"Calm down, okay?" Mel whispered, "See, your Mom's here too. If there's a problem, you can tell us. What's got you so upset? Did you have a nightmare?" He started to worry himself as he pulled back and saw fresh blood in her hair, and her nightshirt. He brushed her hair back, wondering if she was injured, and tried to push the strange dream from his mind so he could be alert to more immediate threats. Until he saw the red streaks on his own hands, and looked down at his T-shirt and the blankets.

"What's happened?" Mom gasped, coming closer. "Amber, come here." There was anger in her voice, and fear, like she didn't know what to think. Mel couldn't blame her; he could imagine the kind of disjointed fears running through her head, hearing the wailing a few minutes ago and then coming to find a man she'd only recently met with arms around her daughter in the middle of the night, and blood spread fairly liberally.

"I thought you were dead!" Amber sobbed, still shuddering with sobs and barely able to get the words out. She held Mel even tighter, tears streaming down her face and soaking into his stained clothes.

"I think," Mel raised a hand to his face, then looked down at his fingertips, "I had a nosebleed while I was sleeping, and Amber saw it, maybe..."

"I thought you were dead," Amber repeated, "And I couldn't see good, but you weren't moving, and I couldn't hear you breathing, and your face was bleeding, and... and..."

"It's okay," Mel told her, slightly muted as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, "It's just a nosebleed. It's nothing serious, I'm sorry I scared you. Can you... can you get some clean clothes and have a wash? Mom can help you, I think she's awake now. I need to wash myself too."

Amber nodded, and slowly the tears subsided. But before she let go of his chest, she gave one squeaking whisper: "Tell me later. Don't forget. Violet said your soul is missing, and I thought..."

Author's Note: Please let me know what you think of this story. Can you guess at the connections between people in the real world and in this dream? I know what's going on, but there are a couple of red herrings in there and I'd like to know which possibilities seem most likely when you're reading this for the first time. Leave me a comment, please?