Serena stood alone in a wind swept field. She supported herself on a large wooden 
stick to accommodate her broken leg. She felt like shit, to say the least, but 
the field perked her up a little. Even the events last evening that bounced in 
her head improved her mood. She smiled a bit as another cool breeze blew against 
her face. She gazed up at the white clouds and blue sky to catch a glimpse of 
birds in flight. Her nose filled with the scent of jasmine and wild flowers. Her 
leg felt as if it was healed. She took a few steps forward, almost dancing in the 
beautiful field, as she no longer felt anything bad. It was like a dream, she was 
back in Capash and she was enjoying it. She spread her wings a little before she 
reached back and untied her hair. She took another few steps forward. The scents 
grew more beautiful, and she could feel her unborn girl in the same state of 
euphoria. She took another step forward, a gust of wind hit her wings, compelling 
her to take flight. Flight was her ultimate freedom, and she felt more free than 
ever being home again. 

So she took to the sky. It was as wonderful as she remembered it. Though not 
flying for three months had made her a bit rusty, she was a natural and flew as 
though she born to the sky. She looked below her at merchant caravans and lone 
outriders. She giggled at their idiotic ways of crossing long distances, she 
could cover more ground in an hour than they could in a day. With a little bit of 
arrogance she flew down to a pedestrian wrapped in cloaks who had come to a 
crossroads. The shrouded man stood looking at a sign as if he didn't understand 
Benalian. She giggled as she landed next to him. "It says Caltha three miles 
north, Sanadra sixty miles east," she informed the figure. 

"Thank you." The figure trudged off toward Sanadra. 

"Wait," Serena said looking the figure over. "I think it would be better if you 
headed to Caltha, it's not too far out of the way, and I know a great little inn 
that you can stay at. Besides, I can guide you there." 

"I don't think so, sorry but this is were our paths separate," The figure said as 
it headed toward the road to Sanadra. 

"Please, come with me to Caltha," Serena pleaded despite being able to find a 
good reason. "You look so very tired." 'No he doesn't,' she thought as she gazed 
at the figure. 

"Serena," the figure said as he turned around to reveal a masked face staring at 
her. "Find someone else to go with you." 

"Burner!" Serena shouted as she through her arms around him. "I missed you so 
much." 

Burner squirmed free of Serena's grasp only to reply, "Serena, find somebody else 
to go with you. I can't go." 

"Don't be crazy! You look fine, and if you can make it to Sanadra you can 
defiantly make it to Caltha!" Serena said with an almost giddy tone. Burner 
looked down at the ground and put a hand on his mask. "You're removing your mask? 
You don't have to do that, Burner," she smiled at her beloved. Burner pulled off 
his mask and continued to stare at the ground. "Is something wrong?" she said 
with a quiver of fear. 

"I can't go with you, Serena," Burner said as he raised his face to meet 
Serena's. She gasped in horror as she stared at Burner's charred, blackened skull 
sitting in place of his beautiful face. "I can't go with you because I'm already 
there." 

Serena woke with a start back in the caverns of Odain. Her brow was covered in a 
cold sweat and her mind reeled with the images of her dream. What did he mean by 
"already there?" Why was he in Capash? What did it all mean?! As she wrestled 
with the images she began to sob aloud. She only wished that it wasn't true, that 
Burner wasn't dead, and that they'd be together someday. 

***** 

Gissar stared across a field of razor grass into the eyes of an unknown enemy. 
This was her favorite dream, in which she always got to kick something's ass for 
the glory of Phyrexia, and she is promoted to the council. She knew it wasn't 
real, because Negators can never obtain such power, but it was always nice to 
dream. She sneered at her opponent again, she was certain she'd make short work 
of it...especially if it was Urza. That was the best of the best dreams, taking 
down the enemy number one for her dark masters. She loved these dreams, but she 
seldom had them since she met Roger. While they were going out he was pretty much 
all she dreamed about, and not the glory of Phyrexia. It didn't matter now, he 
hated her with a passion and she had proof, a fellow Phyrexian told her so back 
on the Nexus. He told her that Roger was just using her to get Phyrexian 
technology, and that love was not real. The thought stung at first, but over a 
month it sank in and she knew it must have been true. She took three steps 
forward, still eyeing her prey. A glint of steel flashed in the distance, at 
least her enemy was armed. Her thoughts turned again to Roger. She felt so warm 
around him...not like an actual raise in temperature, but it was warm none the 
less. She felt like he actually knew her, although she knew he hadn't a clue. 
Another step forward and the figure still stood ready. No charge meant an 
intelligent opponent, this was going to be some serious fun. She darted into the 
razor grass to get the drop on her enemy. It just followed her with its eyes. She 
didn't pay it much mind now, as it was already an assured kill as she darted 
through the grass. She spun around behind it and jumped him like a primitive 
creature, but it was ready. One sword strike and it knocked Gissar on her back. 

"Think you're tough punk?" Gissar spat as she stared at her enemy. That's when it 
hit her who it was. It was Roger who stood before her with his sword in hand. She 
leapt to her feet. "I'll...I'll give you a warning this time, yes that's it, and 
I'll kill you the next time I see you! Yeah that's right! I'll kill you!" Gissar 
screeched at Roger as it bared its claws. 

"That's what you said the last time, and I said the same fucking thing," Roger 
spat back at the demon "I guess you can't keep a promise." 

"I can...but...but..." Gissar was desperate, curse Yawgmoth for destroying her 
creativity. 

Roger stood ready for Gissar's attack, "So? You gonna kill me or not? You think 
I'm not scared?" 

Gissar remembered this was the way Trace acted when she tried to intimidate him. 
"Trace! My quarrel is not with you!" she cried. 

"So? You can't separate us. Roger and I share a body, the body that broke your 
heart, and the body that's going to do it again!" Trace cried at the standing 
Negator. 

Gissar awoke from her suspended state without having completed the dream. She 
wouldn't have want to either. It scared her to think of killing Roger, even 
though she had threatened him so many times. There was no way to take it back, no 
way to make amends for her mistakes to either Phyrexia or to the one she loved. 
She cried out in pain at this realization and then vented her frustrations on the 
cavern in which she had taken refuge. 

**Thanks to MechaCrash for revisions and Newaz for allowing me to use Burner. I 
hope you enjoied the torture of two of my charcters.**