I stand, looking at my Father.

I stand, the Enemy watching me also.

"No! I will not fall!"

My word of assurance to my Father, and a cry of defiance to my Enemy.

And then I notice a funny thing. Sadness in my Father's eyes, and glee in the Enemy's.

I look down to see my own body lying at my feet. Wounded. Sobbing. Dying.

And I see that the shadow of my hands are tainted with the lifeblood of the one lying at my feet. Me.

My Father gently cradles the broken thing at my feet and whispers something into his, my, ear.

"You don't have to live like that anymore...You don't have to live like that anymore...Why can't you see...? Why do you close your eyes...?"

He kissed the broken boy on the head and turned to leave, still holding him, me, in his arms.

My Enemy screamed in protest, in defiance.

"Give that back! It's mine!"

Father turned to Enemy

"He is My son. He is no longer bound."

Father walked away carrying the broken one Home, and the bloodstained shadow that had been standing there had dissappeared.