Tink. Tink.
A stone bounced off Chastity's window. Then another, loud enough to wake her up.

Inferno was almost too tempted to shoot a wisecrack about Ezekiel's son or Minerva, but managed to hold his tongue by biting it. Instead, he retired to a chair in front of the fireplace that sparked into life as he approached.
"Damn... reckless... stupid... girl..."

Ezekiel smiled for a moment, something completely out of character for him, "I may have lost my son and my wife, and I may have been cruel to my son when I brought him out of hell, but still, the boy never hated me, nor his mother. Last I spoke with him, he told me of his children who still live brother. I have grand children, and my grand children have children. And for the most part, they are living happy lives. That's something I can be....positive about." With that, he stood up. "No matter the cruelty of a parent, a child will do as they wish. That's simply a fact of life."

Mawthrough was looking up at her from the ground, in the same spot as he'd stood two years before when they'd first started running.
"Can you talk? I feel like we need to talk."
He looked lost and confused.

Inferno tilted his head just slightly, looking at Ezekiel out of the corner of his eye.
"Every fact of life is not a fact. It's just opinion held by reality. Someone might say the sun rising tomorrow is a fact. It might not be the case. In a week, we could all be dead. Time is not a fact, what we see is not a fact, what we think - nothing is true. We each have our own little world, and we just have to make it reconcile with each other's."
That said, he closed his eyes.
"I just wanted peace. I just wanted my world, my hope, my life's work, preserved and untainted. Is that so much to ask?"

A flurry of wings, a bit of squeezing, and Mawthrough was standing in her room, looking at her.
"I don't know if I ever told you, but I've mastered the Karma Sutra. I'm pretty flexible - for a few of the positions in the Incubus Bible, you have to be."
A smile flickered over his face, and then vanished like a candle being blown out.
He sat down at the end of her bed and opened his arms.
"You look like you need a hug."

Ezekiel felt an itch on the back of his neck, but he remained silent about it. "There's nothing wrong with wanting peace, or wanting your world to remain intact, or preserved. However my brother, answer me this, is it right to force your vision upon others? Like Michael does?"

Zenith woke up the next morning and looked around. She got a uniform from the closet and set out to find Marcus.

Marcus was in the combat hall, sparring with a student whom specialized in lance attacks. With a small, sphere shaped shield, he deflected blow after blow, easily and smoothly, all the while, letting the student use their full potential without feeling outplayed.

Name: Amalia Frost

Race: Dragon-kin

Age: 25

Powers: utilizes cold and ice to its full potential, depending on her level of anger, she has been known to start massive blizzards. Amalia is incredibly strong, and sometimes has difficulty in gauging her own strength. Often she holds back, but more than makes up for this in her speed.

Weaknesses: requires extensive rest after each battle usually 48 hours or longer depending how long her last fight was.

Weapon/Style: She prefers melee weapons above all others. She owns a wide variety of weapons, ranging from various spear-like weapons, to a handful of custom made weapons. She carries a black spear-like weapon, this being the most common weapon she uses. The blade is almost always sheathed...it's sheath is only removed when she intents on taking a life. She has been known to use a pair of customized bladed fans, though she rarely uses these in battle situations. She typically sticks to weapons she can use while flying.

Spoiler:

Details: Amalia appears to look like any other human, aside from her very pale skin, and snow white scale patch down the left side of her face, throughout her back, part of her torso, stopping mid-hip. She has long red-brown hair, with white highlights throughout. Her hair is usually in a tight braid, or tied back in some fashion. She has gray eyes, which are often mistaken for blue, green, and even hazel, depending on the light she's standing in. Her scales are highly reflective, and almost seem to appear almost silver when standing in the sunlight. Amalia is able to hug her wings around her shoulders, so most humans thing she's wearing some kind of unusual cloak. Generally, Amalia wears clothing in which she can hug her wings around her shoulders in such a manner (strapless, and backless tops or dresses), coupled with tight fitting jeans or other pants, to make flying easier.

Back story: Amalia was raised by her father up until the day of his death. Following the terms of his last request, a weapon was made from his bones, and given to Amalia...the weapon given to her is her spear-like weapon, which she has simply named 'Frost'. Part of her father's skin was used to make Frost's sheath. The sheath, when removed, unlocks a freezing wind which is Amalia's father's very icy spirit. This is what causes, or worsens any blizzard Amalia is capable of breathing.
Amalia is generally a patient, and kind person, as long as people are worthy of her trust and loyalty, she has no cause to raise Frost to them. Though there have been a select few that have crossed her, and lost their heads. Often, she takes up extremely difficult tasks, tasks that normally would gravely wound her, or kill her. She has a complete lack of faith in other people. She is usually heavily relied upon by those whom she has allied with in the past. She guards her emotions well, people often mistaking the name of her weapon as her nickname, or her surname. Other than correcting these people, she has taken 'Frost' as her surname.

Shrike was sitting alongside Lake Minerva, hundreds of miles away from the academy, simply sitting alone in a sort of solitude, his eyes looking across the waters. He held within his hands, his weapon, a simple rod, which would become the grimm's scythe upon his command.

Amalia soared in the skies above, holding Frost firmly in hand, as she was being pursued by three winged demons. Amalia quickly scanned the area carefully, noting at least two large farms below.
Suddenly, Amalia slowed, and turned to face the demons. Her spear-like weapon, Frost, was still in its sheath. One of the winged demons bore his fangs, as he charged Amalia directly. With no expression on her face, Amalia swung Frost, striking the demon, and throwing him to the ground below. A second, female, winged demon, attempted to flank Amalia, only to meet a sheathed Frost, throwing her into a distant group of trees. The third demon, also male, was larger than the first two. He bore his fangs in frustration, and charged Amalia. As Amalia swung Frost to strike the demon, he suddenly vanished. Amalia froze mid-attack.
'Where did he g-' as she thought this, the demon grabbed Amalia's right ankle, spun her around, and threw her. Amalia sped through the air, trying to regain her scenes...nevertheless she was unable to regain her scenes, and ended up in Lake Minerva...the water freezing where she had landed.

Shrike was shaken awake by the sudden change in temperature, finding a woman in distress before his eyes. Looking into the sky, he spotted a demon, and let out a sigh, "And here I was, just about to find a damnable nap!!!" Holding his staff like a javelin, and threw it into the air after the demon, the weapon flying toward the demon like a heat seeking missile.

Amalia came to the surface of the water, grabbing on to the ice flow that had formed where she had struck the water. She pulled herself onto the flow, and pulled the sheath off Frost, an icy wind surrounding her entire body, and gradually grew stronger, and colder.
Amalia, now full of frustration, blasted from the ice flow...shattering the ice, as she charged the demon. As she sped towards the demon, she noted what looked like a stick or pole of some kind flying towards the demon. She turned her gaze back to the demon, and breathed an icy plume, which engulfed the demon.

Shrike's weapon flew back through the air like a boomerang, and straight through the demon's frozen head, shattering it as it went back into his hands. He propped up the weapon on his shoulder, and spoke aloud, "Interesting hunt of yours, but you seem a little green."

Amalia dove into the water, like a stone, and retrieved Frost's sheath from the lake. She broke the surface, with Frost now sheathed, the icy wind had ceased. She looked at the man on the lake's bank with an icy stare. "I had it in my control." She retorted coldly. "I didn't need your help."

Shrike chuckled, sitting down a second later, "Against some of the more difficult demons out there, a single strike can end you. Not everyone can afford the wounds they provide, so losing your concentration against a demon like those ones is an amateur move. But hey, some days, I'm too lazy to dodge too."

Amalia swam to shore, hugging her wings around her shoulders. "I'm surprised you're not dead." She stated coldly, as she squeezed the water from her braided hair.

Shrike could only see her from the icy aura she presented, his eyes closed while underneath the cloth that covered them, "You'd be amazed what I've lived through, but then again......." As he spoke, his hand went skeletal while he tapped his forehead, "Reactive armor's a pretty decent gift."

"A lazybones like yourself, would need something like that." Amalia stated flatly, as she turned and began to walk away.

Shrike chuckled, "Better to be that, than to be some greenhorn neophyte who's on the verge of collapsing." He said aloud, spotting some fluctuations in her aura.

Amalia halted her stride, and turned around with no expression on her face as she said: "If I die, it will be my own fault, and not the fault of anyone else." She spoke coldly.