In times of greatest devotion, one can faintly make out the sound of doubt that breaks the tranquility.


    Diane was so horrified by her latest revelation that she all but sleepwalked into that circular room. Did she really kill, probably the only man who was trying to protect her? And if she had had a reason, was it really her own, and was it worth trying to remember? Maybe He had done her a favor when He stole her memories. Maybe staying in the dark was, ironically, for her own good. And maybe she should stop trying so desperately to find what He took. She looked around her, still blocking out all the sounds. A room filled with people she didn''t trust. Again. A task she had been given by a force greater than her father or the Judge. Again. A choice?


    Don''t be stupid, Diane Hunster. Look what happens when you try to act on your own. You just ruin everything. Just sit still and do what you are told. It will be over faster that way. And then... What then? Is there a "then"?


    Under the table, Diane''s hands shook. It seemed that the child Brandon Hunster had raised was a failure; instead of a brave warrior sat a girl wondering if she would ever manage to find the right door.


    "Nowhere is the problem!" an outsider''s voice broke her tranquility; it was probably George Brown. She could hear them clearly now; they were wondering how they would get to Carcer. And Jeremy was right, to all but two it was a problem. Nowhere, no one''s land that appeared to those who sought it, in forests, and took them to their desired destinations, had a thousand different doors and passages, making it impossible to invade a king''s home. Which one of them would lead her to her doom, Diane wondered.


    "Can you please stop yelling?" Diane asked her teammates. "It will bring nothing." She hated that she had to waste her time on such silly matters when she had so many other things on her mind. She looked at Thomas who was sitting opposite her. Kelly Hammer was now one of her problems too. Or whoever she truly was. A mother, yes. A model citizen? Diane smiled to herself. There was a whole pack of dirt to examine; she was sure to find something amusing.


    "Then what do you advise we do, Your Majesty?" Jeremy asked bitterly. "How do we find the door that leads to Carcer when even the ones who created it have forgotten about it?"


    "As I told you yesterday, I will handle it," Diane repeated, rubbing her sore temples.


    "I want you to tell us how," Jeremy insisted.


    "A map was made," George uttered slowly, looking at Diane with his head down. "Fiona Roswell stole it. You''ve all heard about Fiona Roswell, the legendary Raven who went missing on a mission, I assume."


    "I haven''t," Thomas mumbled.


    "Well, she is alive and well. And hiding the map to Carcer."


    "That was confidential information you just disclosed," Diane noted; she would have probably lost her mind if the day wasn''t so melancholic. "I''m afraid to ask you how you got it in the first place."


    George smiled. "Then don''t." Diane seemed even more nervous than before. "Oh, come on, Diane! We know each other better than that!"


    "Do we?"


    George paused. Diane could see fear in his smile, though she didn''t know why. "Can you leave Diane and me alone for a moment?" he asked out of the blue, yelling over Jeremy Blake, who was impatient to know why he had not been told about the map before.


    Once the room was empty, Diane walked over to the window and pressed her forehead against the glass. She could see Thomas and Lila walk out of the house and chat under the cold, evil sun.


    George took a few steps closer. "It''s so suffocating in here, don''t you think?"


    After many years it was only the two of them: old friends and at times even more. Images came rushing back and Diane felt his lips pressed against her neck. He whispered something she couldn''t remember. Maybe it was better that way.


    "I agree. We should open the other window..."


    George laughed. "Same old Diane. Always so straightforward." Then, he put his hand on her shoulder and leaned towards her. "Are you still uncomfortable? You know, I was never angry that you killed my father." He could feel her shiver under his fingers, so he pressed them deeper into her uniform before walking away from her. "He wasn''t exactly a... person of importance. Always rambling on about the same stupid ideas and... Well, we are better off without him anyway."


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    Diane immediately turned towards him. "He was a pure and kind soul!"


    "Yet, you got rid of him," George replied with a smile.


    "You know that''s not how it was!"


    "Do I? Do you? Does anyone?" he teased with that same fearful expression; like he might strangle her if she came too close. "Or are your memories not sealed away anymore? A cave, was it?" He took a few steps around the room. "Diane Hunster disobeys. Diane Hunster fights. Diane Hunster loses," he looked at her daringly. "But, who did the extraordinary Diane Hunster lose to?"


    She waited in silence. With George, it was never so simple.


    What does he want? There must be something. Does he know what my destiny is? Who told? Mother? Father? They would never. Who, then? Me?


    "You don''t look very well. You should sit down," he said without real concern in his voice.


    "I''m fine. What do you want?" She cleared her throat and moved towards the door.


    He was suddenly centimeters close. "You know where Fiona Roswell is, don''t you?"


    Diane took a step backwards and put her hand on her sword. "Of course. The real question is, how do you know all of this?"


    George laughed. "I have my ways. I’ve always had my ways."


    As he kept coming closer, Diane kept going backwards until she hit a wall and had to push him away and start walking around. "Is Meredith well?"


    "So, you do remember Meredith."


    "Of course, I do! I could never forget!" Then something snapped in Diane''s ears; she found his next remark quite difficult to hear and impossible to forget.


    "There are lots of things we swore we would never forget."


    Diane was bothered by the mockery in his eyes; it mixed with melancholy and sadness and Diane couldn''t decide if it made her feel sorry or endangered.


    "Do you remember how I used to play the piano for you?" George asked, smiling again as he sat back down.


    "Of course. Meredith and I loved it." A thunder broke the sky in half; Diane could see it from where she stood. It broke George''s face as well, only not symmetrically. "Where is she anyway?" she asked and turned towards the map on the wall.


    "I wouldn''t know. But it''s surely a better place."


    The room suddenly changed; the sunlight that was just a second ago blinding her had somehow faded, making the rays cold and unpleasant; the piano that had played the happy, fulfilling songs of her past quieted down like it could feel the solemn atmosphere. She remembered it all: her hair, bright as the rays of the morning sun, her eyes on her brother''s fingertips as he told a beautiful tale of love and forgetfulness, her laughter filling the room and never letting Diane forget Meredith Brown, the girl she once called her best friend.


    "In that case," she said as she made her way towards the door, "would you mind telling me once you find out?"


    George smiled. "You are an excellent liar, Diane Hunster!"


    Diane shivered at the thought. "I''ve learned from the best, George Brown."


    George must have wanted her to stay. Otherwise, he never would have stopped her from opening the door. "And if Thomas Hammer finds out the truth before you tell him, do you think he will forgive you? If I remember correctly, She said that the Six has to meet as equals. How will you defeat Him without a precious teammate, Dove?" He must have interpreted her hesitation as weakness. He stood up and started walking towards her again. "It doesn''t have to be like this, you know?"


    "How do you know these things, George?" Diane asked, consumed by the fear of ignorance.


    He stormed towards her and grabbed her shoulders so strongly that Diane winced. "Stap acting dumb. You know very well how I know."


    "George..." she let out.


    "Come on, Diane! Stop being so weak!" he cried out, squeezing her even stronger. "We can do all of this together! Stop being so stupid..."


    Blood suddenly rushed into Diane''s head, so she pushed George away so strongly that he fell on his back. "How dare you touch me like this?!" Diane yelled back, pulled out her sword and pointed it towards George''s throat. "Just because we used to be friends doesn''t give you the right to talk to me like this. I am, and always will be, your future queen. So, watch your mouth."


    "My God..." George whispered and put his hands on his face. "Everything," she heard him mumble, "You''ve ruined everything."


    "What?"


    "Leave."


    "Not until you answer my question."


    "I said leave!" he yelled so loudly the window shook. He stood up and walked back and forth between the window and the table while Diane gathered the courage to be her old self again.


    She stepped back and, despite being petrified by the sudden stabbing in her head, replied, "It is an order, George Brown."


    George''s fist dented the wall next to the window; his face was red and he was shaking. "I am patient, but God knows I am not to be toyed with. Leave, while I am still being kind."


    Diane felt that pain in her head again, the one that made her vision and hearing hazy and that scar just below her heart dig holes in her ribcage. Colors that did not belong in the present were smudged all over George''s figure, on the wall, and on the map that she couldn''t help but glance at.


    "Do you love me?" she asked by reflex. She didn''t know where those words came from, it was not her heart, but something in their resonance evidently enraged George even more.


    "I will crush you, Diane Hunster," he replied with low, muffled sounds, staring at the forest.


    Diane was certain she saw tears running down his cheeks. She knew better than to push the matter further. For now, she had to be content with the fact that she might have been the one who revealed the secrets of the world to the man she once, perhaps, loved.


    And if I didn''t... Well, then we have a problem.