The weary young man was in a cell-like circular room void of windows. Several candles placed in sconces hung on the stone walls and provided the only light to the small space. Loneliness along with grief enveloped him despite the presence of another man. The other person, an elderly man wearing navy blue robes, was staring intently at him with intelligence and sympathy shining in his blue eyes. Both men were seated in simple wooden chairs placed on opposite sides of a scarred table.

The older man was first to break the heavy silence, "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"I don't know any other way to keep them safe. I have put too many people whom I love in danger for too long and I won't do it anymore. I can't do it anymore," he rubbed a hand across his bloodshot eyes. "As long as I am with them, they will be in danger. No matter how much it might hurt me, this will be better for them."

"If you are sure, then I will contact the necessary people and the process can be completed in less than an hour. I wish that I didn't agree with you but I fear you may be correct. I wish there was some way you could keep the memory of how proud we all are of you and how much you are truly loved." The older man placed one of his aged hands over the younger man's hand. "Is there anything you want to do before the process is started?"

"One thing, sir, is there anyway I can see them one last time?"

"Absolutely," the older man waved a wand and a mirror appeared on the table. Reflected in the mirror was not the image of the room in which they sat. Instead pictured, was a young woman with beautiful red hair; in her arms was a small girl with red curls and vivid green eyes. The young woman was sitting in a rocking chair and was singing to the young girl. He reached his hand out to the images and touched the cool glass. A single tear ran down his cheek. He brushed the tear away and looked up at the older man.

"I'm ready."

"Very well, I will return shortly." With a loud "pop" the older man was gone.

"Ring . . . ring . . . ring" The sound of the telephone pulled Harrison Palmer from the odd dream he had been having. Actually, he had been having the same dream every night for several weeks. It always ended at the same point, when the older man disappeared. He wondered if it meant anything.

He reached over to answer the phone and forgot about the dream. After finishing the phone call, he got out of bed and prepared to start his day. One more day and then he would be on vacation from work for a month. He could not wait, it would be his first vacation in five years and he was taking a trip to England with his son.