It was a cold time. Death. Everywhere there were poor, the suffering, the dying, the afflicted and the dead. Those that were dead were blessed. Few, there were very few that reveled, that prospered in the filth, the decay. The aristocratic families thrived upon the age. Industrialism was growing. Peasants... who needed them. All that mattered now where the machines, the continual flow of goods to be exported, and of course, the parties. There were always parties to attend, such a hassle, but one must keep appearances.Cameron hated the parties, hated the facades, the games, the trivial occurances that would waste hundreds of thousands of dollars to be corrected. He hated all of them, thier frivolous nature enraged him. He'd fought, argued with his father on the point many times. " You are wasting the family wealth father, squandering it on parties and meaningless games, I cannot stand by and remain silent while you continue this".
It was a very cold day, he had been on the street for two days now, no, maybe it was three... he couldn't remember. Through all of the love he held for his father, he still despised him. Pride would keep him from apologizing to his father, it would also kill him, that along with the cold. Another night came, one of desolation and despair. Cameron curled up beside a stack of firewood and tried to keep out of the falling snow.

He'd never thought angels were supposed to wear black but from what he could tell, they were. Two of them, wearing suits that rivaled even his father's wardrobe. Beautiful, holy, perfectly scuplted features, mimicking the color of the snow. They didn't speak, but he knew what they wanted. They helped him up, they were going to take him away, going to take him where he belonged. It could have been days, he wasn't sure, he couldn't stay awake, everything kept going black. He didn't know that he had pnuemonia, that his body was weaking, that he was dying, nor would it matter for long.
" Where am I going.... where " he struggled to stay awake, it felt as if his eyes were burning, as if he needed to shield them from the air, the light, to curl up and hide from everything " where are you taking me "?
Silence. In most cases it would have been soothing, but the monotonous 'clip clop' of the horses hooves against cobble stones began to lose him, to stretch time, or shrink it to infintismally small proportions. A minute, maybe longer? He had waited for an answer, perhaps he had missed it, he may have slipped into unconsciousness again....
" I say again sirs, where are you- "
" We are taking you home. To your new home. Your new life"
Through all his life Cameron was always treated with respect. Such that to be cut off in mid sentence was something unheard of. Only, when it happened, he failed to realize it. The voice. Melodious. A collague of power, and tenderness. It held him captive for such a long time that he forgot what he had asked. The carriage rocked him gently, the horses hooves rang crisp on the stone, snow could still be seen falling outside. His body was covered with blankets and he felt warmer, but the chill rested in his bones. It creeped through him, only to be matched by a growing flame that was engulfing him. The sweat had already soaked his shirt and clothing when the carriage finally stopped and he could no longer open his eyes.
" We will have to embrace him soon. The fever will begin to damage him and then there will be no saving him "
He felt himself being lifted, and carried, as if he were a childe no older than 4. Darkness enveloped him and the smell of animals filled his mind. Hay rustled and he was set down upon... a table? Something hard, yet it wasn't on the floor.
" I will embrace him here. I haven't the time to spare or the chances to take. I have waited too long already "
It was that voice again. His body slumped. Sleep was quick to catch him in her blanket of darkness. Rest. Finally he could escape it all. No. Pain. The fire increased, raced, surged through his body. Cold was burned from him, aches were seared from his muscles, a slow ebbing warmth flowed over him, causing his body to relax. Instintively his arms wrapped around the one above him, holding, clinging to the angel that had come to take him home .......

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