*Yeyyyyy~, I am here! :'D

*To Black-Neko-Chan, SomethingSomeoneSaid, blood and rain, and Hyper Kid007: You have given me the strength to believe in myself to do this story justice. You were my knights in shining armor, my beacons, my saviors. I love you all dearly.

*Note: Stolas' (CieBas' now... ha, ha...) baby's name was GoodbyeMyHeart's idea. It had been decided a very, very long time ago, and I can finally use it. :P

*This story has a sequal titled "The Ambassador", but I think it will be kinda easy to see what it's about once you read through this Epilogue. :D

*Please also note that, from this point on, 'Sebastian', 'Stolas', and 'Ciel Phantomhive' all exist as one being. Therefore, I will have to refer to this chapter and the sequal as a ('CieBas' X OC) story. :P

*An apology: I generally do all my typing whenever my left wrist isn't bothering me, so please bear with me. :'S

*The Latest Source of Inspiration 1: "New World Concerto" by Dvořák

*The Latest Source of Inspiration 2: A song, "Hallellujah" by Rufus Wainwright

(There's a beautiful music video out on You Tube with the same theme song, but with a different singer. Go check it out.)

Please, please do enjoy this conclusion part... *bow*

"Secret Yearnings of the Souls"

Epilogue: Milestone

Written by: Second Wind

Holy Cleansing Pool

Ceremonial Ground,

Christian Kingdom

12 Hours After the Lift of Blockade

William T. Spears stood a short distance away from the smooth stone-based circular pool, dressed this time in his best and 'most formal' attire which included all the medals and awards he had ever received in his career.

However, the black fabric of his outfit made each one stand out, thus making him look like a cross between a military officer and a law enforcement officer. Others asked him about each one, since a majority of them had never actualy seen death gods of his rank before. Spears answered as humbly and briefly as possible, but he did not know what to make of this particular situation.

He knew that it was a high honor to be doing what he was doing, standing next to Undertaker and the arch angels, all dressed formally in addition to a few special representatives of other religious kingdoms who were all in their own respective attires gathered around a small circular pool filled with a mixture of holy water as well as the purest water the heaven's messengers could find from the mortal realm.

Normally, if the attendees were all citizens of the Christian Kingdom, Spears would never feel so distinctly 'out of place'. However, he was currently sandwiched in between the black-clad Undertaker and a very 'large' woman with long braided hair in which a colorful ribbon had been woven to accentuate the shine of her black tresses. This same woman also happened to be dressed in an almost scandalously-revealing outfit which was unmistakably made of a mysterious animal skin.

Spears made a few attempts at making a conversation, but she began speaking in an unfamiliar foreign tongue, and his efforts at socializing had failed. He also could not stand the giggles Undertaker sent his way.

He looked for the familiar faces of the angels he had become acquainted with during his stay here in heaven, but was saddened to see that they were not within his sight. He secretly hoped he would have the time to find them among the sea of spectators later on.

The 'Holy Bath' as some would call it, would have been toxic to the one who was about to enter the water, but if all goes well, that should not be the case.

If something was to go wrong and the 'being' failed to survive, then the two death gods were to swiftly end its suffering by reaping the soul of the said 'being'. The other duty of the death gods was to notify the Underworld – or to be short 'Hell', whether or not this being that is about to be born survived or not. William could not get out of these duties either way.

Soon, the sound of harps, flutes and angelic voices drifted toward the spectators, signaling the start of the ceremony. William quickly searched for another familiar face among the musicians, but was saddened once again to find none. He hurriedly shook his head, shaking off these selfish, non-work-related thoughts from his head. He sighed, silently reprimanding himself for becoming distracted at a time like this.

There was no grand speech to be given, for the process needed to begin swiftly. The cocoon will not be able to hold itself much longer, since it has began to crack and 'ooze' the moment it arrived in heaven. The dissolving of its shell steadily progressed in Raphael's infirmary throughout the entire day.

Seven greatest arch angels entered the circle of watchers shortly after the musicians with a stretcher bearing the giant cocoon, hopefully with the merged 'angel' version of what was once the angel/demon crossbreed: Prince Stolas - a crowned prince of hell; and the soul of one troubled but undoubtedly pure noble human boy: Ciel Phantomhive.

Undertaker proudly watched as the sight of the grass-green cocoon drew the 'ooooh's and 'ahhhh's from the spectators. The music continued as the weeping cocoon was lowered over the water, the yellowish transparent liquid dripping out of the shell starting to mix with the water.

The moment the two liquids touched each other, however, the water instantly turned silvery, then to pale blue. The crowd cheered instantly, dancing lightly and singing – for they had a confirmation that whatever that the cocoon held was not evil.

If it had been a dark creature of any kind – say, a demon or any other form of creature who undoubtedly belonged in Hell, the water would have either turned pitch black or blood-red in color. Now, all they had to do was hope that this 'holy' creature would actually survive the process of coming out of the shell and wake up - since that was where many creatures like this one failed to succeed.

'But,' William thought, 'they did not have souls who had been good enough match with their masters.' This was what set Stolas apart from his fellows. 'And even less had the skill and courage necessary to come up with a way to mergetheir own souls with someone else's.'

Yes. What they were all staking their futures on, was this very point: that, Ciel Phantomhive and Prince Stolas – or, 'Sebastian' as the prince secretly preferred to be called – were a true 'match made in heaven'. …Well, in between 'Earth', 'Hell,' and 'Heaven'.

The arch angels stepped forward and with the tips of their respective shining blades raised in unison, approached the cocoon and said their prayers.

The four shining blades barely caressed the surface of the cocoon, but the hard shell broke instantly as if it was nothing but a thin paper, splashing its surplus fluid into the cleansing pool and making everyone gasp as they were all drenched in the water mixture and the silvery substance from the cocoon.

Something bluish and pale dropped into the water the next moment, and the remaining shell of the cocoon quickly dissolved in front of their eyes.

Everyone talked all at once in various languages as they forgot about the state of their own wardrobes and gathered quickly around the holy pool again to see… a naked human-like form of a man.

"OHHH!"

"How extraordinary!"

"It's a miracle!"

"It's …beautiful!"

The angels who were the appointed cocoon bearers exclaimed in unison. The arch angels all breathed a sigh of relief as they quickly made sure the figure was alive by patting and stroking its back and helped it cough up the fluid from its lungs.

"Camael, help me." Raphael asked as he placed both hands flat-palmed over the figure's chest, releasing powerful energy currents from within himself, and spreading his own wings to their full lengths in order to generate maximum powers as an effort to stabilize the hyperactive heart.

Camael realized what Raphael was asking him to do, and released his own energy to search for, then covering, the spot a little below the other healer's open palms, where the freshly merged soul was releasing an incredible amount of energy at an unsteady rhythm.

"Just as I thought." Raphael commented as he worked to stabilize the figure's heart, for it felt as if it was either jumping with joy or was in shock from being awakened after hibernation.

"I second your sentiment." Camael commented, his now-shining eyes clearly seeing where the two souls joined, and how the demon prince's soul acted as the base over which the former child earl's soul wrapped itself around. The still-random busts of energy this merged soul was releasing into the atmosphere told him the level of bond these two souls shared.

"I cannot completely cure… or to erase… this defect in his heart. It is a miracle that the heart lasted for this long without major complications. Having not had much 'nourishment' prior to going into Metamorphosis did not help his recovery, either. ...That millennium-long confinement down in the filthy dungeon only worsened the damages he was born with. …On the other hand, maybe the Almighty meant for this heart to be 'kept safe', away from the battlefields." Raphael commented as he scanned the figure's heart as much as he could. "But still…" Raphael added, "this is one 'good' heart."

"This is… undoubtedly one of the most beautiful souls I have ever seen." Camael voiced his thoughts, and sent a particularly powerful current of energy to the merged soul to 'be at ease'. The soul received the signal, sensing that it was now safe for it to relax. The soul calmed down at once.

The remaining angels then began the task of cleaning up the creature with more holy water and what looked like a cloth made of silk and began giving the creature its first bath.

William watched the entire process from a short distance away, trying to wipe out as much of the silvery substance he was drenched with earlier as he could with just a hand.

"Ohhhh. Will, come here, you won't believe your eyes!" Undertaker positively 'squeaked' as more of the creature was revealed after the silvery liquid was washed away from its body.

The arch angels themselves spoke to each other in hushed yet unmistakably excited tones as some washed the creature's hair out thoroughly while others kept washing the arms and the legs, with Raphael paying special attention to the creature's back – where the wings, if it had them, would come out eventually.

William went to them, an unexplainable quick beating of his heart urging him on. What came into his view, though, was beyond all his imaginings.

The decidedly human-shaped creature that lay in the arms of some of the heaven's most powerful angels was positively sparkling with its pearly-white skin, slender frame and a head full of soft sky-blue hair. One thing was certain, though. It had a fixed gender of 'male', unlike the pure-blooded, true angels who had both at birth and could change from one to the other.

"He is… blue." William muttered to himself, as if that wasn't obvious.

"Very well, then. Let us turn him over, gently. We need to clean his wings and make sure there is no deformity." Raphael said as he covered the creature's exposed torso with another piece of large dry silk, draping the material around the newly-born angel carefully and tied the ends of the fabric loosely.

The creature did not yet have his wings out, but as Raphael approached again and lightly ran his hands over his entire back and hummed a beautiful tune, a pair of 'bumps' began to form beneath the newly-born angel's shoulder blades. Raphael's tense face broke into a genuine smile at the sight.

A loud cheer and shock went up as the wings very slowly emerged. The bones were not yet fully solidified, and they seemed very fragile and pale to the outsiders' eyes.

"These need a lot of direct sunlight. Stand back, everyone." Raphael commanded, and everyone stepped back in unison by a few meters. When Raphael was happy with their distance, he continued on, coaxing the wings out of the angel's body. The smile he wore grew bigger as more and more of the wings came into view. Next to Raphael, Michael let out a chuckle.

"Why… This is the first time I have ever seen …a pair of blue wings on an angel." Michael muttered, watching closely as Gabriel came up next to him.

"That is not the only unique feature." The angel of water commented.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, his curiosity piqued but it was Raguel who had been carefully quiet up until this point, who answered the question.

"These wings are no ordinary dove's wings. These are far larger in size and width. ..Prince Stolas originally had raven's wings, did he not?" He asked, to which Rasiel replied, pointing to the base of the newly-born angel's wings.

"Yes, he did. Or at least that is the impression I got from his cinematic record once I was allowed access to it. Lilith snapped them right out of his back. Look, there's the evidence right there." The arch angels – with the exception of Uriel, approached closer to finally see the very root of the sky-blue wings. They were pitch-black; their original color.

"That must have felt … worse than any word I can come up with." Raphael sighed. As a healer, he had of course seen just about every manner of injuries done to angels' wings and the consequences that followed thereafter. However, he had never seen a survivor with such blatant, messy break in his entire career. It was one thing to watch it in 'cinematic record' or to read it in the form of a book. It was quite another to actually see the wound – and touch it – with his own eyes and hands.

"One thing is for certain. He will not be returning to his former 'King' ever again."

Everyone snapped to attention at the commanding voice of…

"My lord Metatron! I… forgive me. I had no knowledge that you would be attending this ceremony." Uriel hurried to the Celestial Scribe, and got down on one knee to show his respect.

"Be at ease, Uriel. Something in my heart told me to join you on this occasion. …A successful metamorphosis. This truly is a memorable occasion."

"The Celestial Scribe is right! He will not survive down there for any extended periods of time. The air is too toxic, and the portal would not open for him anyways."

"- Unless we give him the means of transport he needs."

"My lord Uriel, what are you saying?" Gabriel protested but Uriel shook his head, silently commanding the angel to give him time to speak. Everyone listened intently even as Raphael kept tending to the blue wings on the new angel. Uriel continued as he watched Raphael work.

"We need to hold a trial …the final judgment must be read and handed out to him, even just for the formality's sake. When we set everything out in the open the details of which the Death Gods here must be aware, we will let this angel speak and then we hold a council in the presence of Lord Metatron and decide what his future holds."

Raphael spoke next, seeing that Uriel was done.

"As we all know, this particular angel holds the key to open many doors in our search for the way to keep peace in between our three worlds. We need to take every precaution and do so while we 'educate' him properly and to the best of our abilities."

"Well, we are going to need to appoint someone specifically to give him flying lessons. He has almost never used wings during taking human form, has he?" Michael commented.

"No, almost never." Raphael replied touching and cleaning the angel's new pair of wings with painstaking care, and paying particular attention to the base of these wings, where two different colored, and two different types of wings, joined. He then ran a hand gingerly down the angel's back, to the base of its spine, marveling at the sheer size and width of these wings.

"He will have a tough time using these. That is for certain. These can almost reach down to his ankles when they are 'at rest'. These also remind me of the way multiple pairs of wings grow upon a single angel's back. But these are decidedly a single pair. …I have never seen such an occurrence before." Raphael explained as he investigated further.

"Most of the time, the shoulder blades get the first pair, then the base of the rib cage get the second pair, with the both sides of the upper hip bones get the third pair. The last 3 pairs grow attached to both sides of the spine." Uriel commented, watching the angel's wings closer as Raphael continued to work on them. "This is certainly the first I have seen ...a single, dual-based pair. Maybe the Almighty gave him the brand new base, in addition to the one Ciel Phantomhive helped grow." Uriel was thinking aloud, but felt in his heart that he was correct.

"He will need higher chairs when he is seated, or just keep his wings concealed while sitting down. He is bound to get muscle cramps if he had to keep them slightly raised." Raphael assessed as he kept the stroking motion to get the blood circulation going in the wings.

Rasiel watched closely, making sure that this event will forever be etched into his memory. This definitely was one for 'The Book', as in the book of miracles he was in charge of keeping.

The once-transparent wings began to solidify further darkening the blue of the feathers covering the bones and the thick skin upon the wings.

"Very well. I think they are solid enough now. Let us try stretching them now." Raphael said as he began lifting the wings from the back of the still-unconscious angel, and pulled them up to their standing position. His other hand continued massaging the entire back as the newly-formed wings stretched themselves to their limits.

A new chorus of 'ohhhhh's and 'ahhhhh's erupted from their nearly-forgotten audience. Michael opened his eyes wider with surprise.

"My goodness! How magnificent! Think of what he can do with in a battle with these on his back! These will carry him afar, but if he can learn to catch the wind and learn how use storm clouds to his favor, he will be practically shooting up and own all three levels with ease." Michael was excited, seeing the thickness of the bones and the muscles quickly making their presence known in the wings and the once-demon's entire torso.

"He did keep himself in quite a good shape, did he not?" Gabriel commented. "If he can handle the combat lessons and learn to use these wings to their fullest abilities, and then still manage to retain that sharp, powerful mind of his…" She kept on, not hiding the hopeful look on her face.

"Raphael, please stay with him in your infirmary until he is well out of danger. Raguel, please prepare for this one's trial with me. Gabriel, please try spreading the word that he process has ended in success but that it is still too early to tell if he is capable of what we all hope he is capable of. Michael, please watch out for this one's safety and settle any disagreements or unrest among any being residing or visiting here in heaven. Sariel, please do the same with the humans - especially with any and all known demon contractors belonging to our kingdom down on earth. Maybe the death gods can assist us with informations reagarding such individuals. Lastly…"

Uriel turned around to face the Celestial Scribe. "My lord Metatron, I would like your approval on the orders I have just given, so that we may finally move forward." Uriel finished, bowing deeply once again in the show of respect. Metatron nodded.

"Approved." The king of all angels replied.

"Thank you, my lord." Uriel replied. The arch angels then moved accordingly, shaking hands with some of the audience members to celebrate their success. A group of angels began cleaning up the holy pool and cover what was once Prince Stolas' body fully with large pieces of soft, long cloth-like material before Raphael began issuing instructions for transport.

"Then, let us draw this ceremony to a close, and disband. I would like to thank all of you for your attendance and support." Uriel announced with an air of finality.

There were clear, strong "hear, hear" and "Lord bless thee" and "farewell" as the audience all left the ceremonial ground for 'merriment' which had been prepared by the angels for everyone to enjoy.

Private Palace of Uriel

Undisclosed Location

Christian Kingdom

2 Hours Later, Same Day

Camael watched as a guard knocked on the familiar door to Uriel's study, and waited for the permission to enter. Just as the door was opened for Camael, the angel of pure love and healing in all 'matters of the heart' saw Raphael heading his way. A slight jump of his eyebrows and a hand gesture indicated that the healer of all physical ailments had also been summoned by the foreseer.

Uriel stood up from his seat behind the massive crystal desk to greet his visitors, and indicated the two chairs for them to be seated in. Once all three angels had been seated, Uriel began.

"My friends. I have asked you to come here, because this is in regard to an extremely sensitive matter concerning the Metamorphosis which was just concluded." The two angels leaned closer to their superior once the magic word was spoken. Uriel continued after a pause. "I have also asked you both here, my healers, for a consult. This is also in relation to the Metamorphosis, but at the same time, a preparation for what is to come if my vision is correct."

The two angels nodded their heads, signaling for Uriel to continue.

"First of all, Raphael, it is about time for you to settle one of your issues concerning Prince Stolas, and your dealings regarding lord Asmodeus." Uriel watched as Raphael's expression registered a genuine surprise. Camael, however, leaned back in his chair.

"Pardon?" Raphael asked, his eyes demanding further explanations. Uriel nodded.

"This has been bothering me for a while. Capturing and banishing Asmodeus was one of the greatest accomplishments of your career. However, you were most likely unaware of the existence of Prince Stolas as the son of Asmodeus, and as the last heir at the time, were you not?"

"That is correct, my lord."

"Nor the fact that lord Asmodeus actually 'married' that fallen angel."

"That is also correct, my lord."

"As you yourself have stated in your recent report to me, the prince possesses vast knowledge in medicine, and in healing."

"Yes, my lord."

"Therefore, it is my conclusion that the prince – if he succeeds – should be placed under your care, not just as a patient but also as an apprentice, until it is time for him to move on."

"My lord Uriel, it sure is a… possibility that he will be an asset to the medical community. However, he will need a whole lot of time to adjust…" Raphael left his sentence unfinished as many thoughts, theories and ideas began circling in his head. Camael raised his hand for a permission to speak, which Uriel granted with a nod.

"My lords, I must confess that I knew this matter has been bothering Raphael ever since he learned of this fact as well. I could feel it every time he was near me. The only concern I have with the particular arrangement lord Uriel has just announced, is not about the adjustment issues, but about how much of that incident the prince actually knows."

"That is a very good point, Camael, and that precisely brings me to the next point." Uriel stated before addressing Raphael once again.

"We should confirm this with the death gods, but I had not seen any indication that Prince Stolas is aware of just who had captured Asmodeus in the first place, because he has never even spoken about you in relation to his father's banishment. He only ever spoke about you as a fellow healer. There is also nothing in any of our official report just what lord Lucifer has told Prince Stolas or to his mother about the incident."

"Which will prove disastrous when you two do start working together." Camael chipped in.

"Very well. I will explain myself to him when the opportunity arises." Raphael nodded.

"And please stop feeling guilty about it." Camael drove his point, to which Raphael raised his eyebrows. "I am an expert in the matter of the heart, my fellow healer Raphael." Camael stated, then smiled when the angel sighed.

"All angels are strictly forbidden to aid a fallen angel, for any reason, unless they are specifically ordered to do so by either the Celestial Scribe Metatron, myself, or by Raguel. Not even Michael is allowed to even cross the border to Underworld without proper authorization. You can explain that to him." Uriel offered, to which Raphael nodded. Camael once again raised his hand to speak, and Uriel silently waved his hand, indicating that Camael can drop the formalities.

"I suggest that Raphael does so in my presence. Since we are operating on the assumption that this metamorphosis was indeed successful, I will be working very closely with him once he 'wakes up'."

"Very well. There is another issue I would like to address at this time." Uriel continued. "I have seen some disturbing images, and the Celestial Scribe agrees with my vision on this matter. I will be discussing this more in detail with Raguel later on, but there seems to be some …inner conflicts happening in the future concerning this Metamorphosis." Uriel paused to let his words sink in. The two angels nodded.

"We need to be alert for any attempt on the angel's life, and any attempts that will be made in order to tempt him into becoming one of the 'fallen'."

"Well then, it seems that I will have a mountain of work cut out for me, my lord. Otherwise, it will be Raphael who will get busier healing the physically-wounded." Camael smiled again to keep their conversation light. Both Uriel and Raphael recognized this, and the three shook hands and Uriel dismissed them, satisfied.

Private Prayer Room

Private Palace of Celestial Scribe Metatron

Undisclosed Location

Christian Kingdom

1 Hours Later

Metatron sat in the middle of the bare floor of his prayer room, organizing his thoughts. His mind was made up now, and God Almighty has thus far voiced no objection.

"Then, with your permission, I shall move the plans into action. Give me a sign if you object." Metatron said in a way of seeking confirmation.

Silence.

"Very well, then. It is decided." Metatron said as he began to stand and leave the prayer room to head toward his private study.

As far as the Celestial Scribe knew, nothing like this – certainly nothing of this scale and magnitude – has ever been attempted before in his kingdom or others.

A hundred and twenty years to unite… just as many religious kingdoms in existence. Can we do it?

Metatron asked himself, and told himself to fuel his efforts by this powerful sense of 'self-doubt', the first he had felt since the last 'Great War'.

Christianity and Catholicism are fast-becoming the 'super-powers' within all religious kingdoms in existence. This was preceisely why they had to be the one to make the first moves.

'First thing first,' Metatron thought, 'I must choose the correct individuals for this work.'

Metatron once again withdrew into himself, waiting for the answers to come to him.

Private Infirmary of Raphael

Private Estate of Raphael

Undisclosed Location, Christian Kingdom

5 Hours Later

Awareness gradually enveloped his exhausted mind.

Images floated in and out of his memories, both familiar and foreign, yet they belonged to… to…

"Who?"

His eyes snapped open, startled out of his 'very' long sleep by his own voice.

"Pardon?"

A voice asked, an unfamiliar one that also sounded as equally startled as he did just before. The relatively-short figure of about 15 to 16 years in human age who was dressed in a pale green gown released a long breath and straightened itself. "I see that you are awake. I will alert for my master soon." The soothing voice of his caretaker gave him an almost eely sense of relief and comfort: the two things which the primary half of the figure was really unfamiliar with, although the other half of him was very much at ease with.

Then, a load of his memories returned out of the blue, and a thought emerged: "What is for breakfast today? I would really love to have some freshly-baked scones…'

"Ciel!" The name spilled from his mouth before he could process it fully. He shook his head, not understanding what was happening and then his own thoughts returning: 'Maybe some green tea, infused with a bit of lemon grass and a tiny bit of honey would go nicely. Especially with crystallized ginger slices and baked apple slices with golden raisins…'

This was weird to say the least, because it felt like a whole conversation was happening right inside of his head. He shook his head to clear it, when approaching footsteps drew his attention to the here and now.

"Ah. We were wondering how much longer it will be before you decided to join us." An unfamiliar voice captured his attention from a short distance away. When he turned his head to locate the owner of the voice, he was met by a magnificent-looking, undoubtedly noble ranked angel. The angel stood in the doorway to his bare room, smiling down on him.

The angel's smile awoke certain warm feeling within his chest, as if his heart – and soul – rejoiced upon recognizing this angel's voice and aura. However, his mind had other ideas as it issued a warning in his mind.

He was in an angel's presence – in a vulnerable position – and he couldn't remember why. He quickly jumped to his feet, starting the other occupants of the huge circular room. However, he immediately felt all strength leave him the very moment he stood, thus making him hobble on his now unsteady feet.

"Settle down! You are not yet strong enough!" The angel exclaimed, catching him in his startlingly strong arms as if he was a frail child or …a very sick person. He still couldn't help but struggle against those arms, even though he had no idea why. The arms let go of him then, and he fell back onto the soft mattress on which he was slumbering on earlier.

"Master Raphael, what must we do?" The caretaker asked the angel who looked his now round-eyed patient. The name was all too familiar. Another load of memories returned to him then, and the force with which the recollection came made his head ache.

"Raph… Did you just say… Raphael? The arch angel?" The patient asked, and the physician smiled. The physician watched as his newest patient began breathing roughly to recover from the shock.

The waves and waves of memories kept assaulting his senses from all sides, clearly belonging to two different individuals, but playing all at once within his head as if he was reliving them.

Raphael watched the patient struggle with himself, and with his memories.

"Must we alert lord Camael?" The young caretaker / medical assistant asked his master, but Raphael shook his head 'no'.

"Give him time. We have never had anyone like him to care for before. In the mean time, please let the " The arch angel told the much younger caretaker as he stepped closer toward his patient.

"I believe that an introduction is now in order. I am Raphael, as you just heard. I am an arch angel and a healer by trade. May I ask what you would like to be called?" Raphael asked in the normal tone of voice, to which the patient responded with a nod. Raphael then walked over to a self-filling crystal pitcher filled with some faintly-glowing liquid. He took an upturned white mug in which he poured some of the liquid, then handed it over to the patient.

It took a moment before the patient replied verbally, still somewhat awkwardly, but no longer frightened.

"…Since this is the name I hold dear, I think I would like to be called 'Ciel'. If not, I will settle for 'Sebastian'." The patient answered in a far more stable voice.

Raphael chuckled as if he was sharing an inside joke, and 'Ciel' understood that Raphael knew everything.

"Good choice. Since there is no requirement of a last name, I believe 'Ciel' is the most fitting choice." Raphael smiled wider.

"…Did we succeed?" Ciel asked, wanting confirmation.

"Obviously. How much do you remember?" Raphael asked, trying to act calm because this was the point which will determine what course of action to take for the angels.

"Ahhh… A lot." Ciel mumbled as he tried to get a hold of the raging tide of emotions and memories, including the sounds and scents that accompanied each memory. Out loud, he said, "Yet, I am still in a process… of sorting things out."

"Take your time, by all means." Raphael said as he issued instruction for a cup of tea and watched as the caretaker hurried out of the room.

"I… feel and think in… it is strange, having to think about something and saying something different in the back of my head." Ciel said, trying to piece to together 'his own' thoughts and feelings, instead of trying to decide which 'side' he belonged.

"You have the young earl's soul inside you, and it filled the void so to speak, of your former demon's soul. You look …your new soul looks… truly breath-taking." Raphael said as he rocked gaze with Ciel.

"My… soul?" Ciel muttered, and for once, 'Ciel Phantomhive's' voice in his head asked in unison.

"Yes. It looks… truly amazing."

"How… does it look to you? Now?" He could not help asking Raphael. A genuine smile broke over the angel healer's beautiful face upon hearing the question.

"Like the Earth. Camael was right."

"What do you mean by that, lord Raphael?"

"You will know soon enough, 'Ciel'." Raphael said as he straightened himself, and moved to leave the room.

"WAIT! Please! …My lord Raphael, where am I?"

Ciel had to know. Raphael instantly saw why, and smiled again.

"You are inside a private sanatorium located within a private infirmary inside my own assigned territory." Raphael thoroughly enjoyed the younger man's reaction. Ciel's eyes grew even larger, and Raphael realized this part – as well as the look of 'relative youth' the former prince now sported – came from Ciel Phantomhive as well.

"Your..? But then, that means that I am…" Ciel was afraid to mouth the words. Raphael nodded.

"In heaven, yes. Welcome, my fellow angel: Ciel."

That did the trick. Ciel nodded as the first of his many tears of joy began to fall.

We did it.

The Office of Great Death God

Death God Management Department - Dispatch Division

Noon, Next Day

The veteran death god heard a series of soft knocking on his office door, and went to answer it himself instead of the usual shout of 'come in!'.

He had been expecting Undertaker to arrive at this office within the day, but his old colleague came precisely at noon.

"Hello, old friend." Undertaker greeted the older man with a pat on the man's shoulder, then struggled to fit his massive sythe through the ancient door.

"You came armed today?" The great death god chuckled, seeing the sight of the very long and sharp weapon.

"Only for the show, mind you. Besides, it was an order from 'above' to strengthen our defense forces. I could not leave my sythe to laze around in my lonely shop. Hee, hee, hee." Undertaker giggled.

"Ah, well. This is quite a memorable occasion. We could use a strong demonstration of power here." The veteran death god said. "Which brings us to the point..." He said as he gestured Undertaker toward a guest chair.

"So, you received word that it is now the good timing to do 'the honors'?" Undertaker asked, receiving a nod in reply.

"Yes. Now, it is not only safe to name the boy, but it is imperative to do so. A name, if applied correctly, will protect the person just as much as it can curse the person for eternity if applied incorrectly. A nameless individual can be dangerous, for he or she is vulnerable toward temptations." The older man said as he poured a cup of tea for both of them.

"Mmm-hmm, we cannot have that." Undertaker said. "Actually, I do have a name in mind which I came up with after thinking carefully from all angles." Undertaker said as he traced the long handle of his death scythe with the tip of his index finger. He paused for several seconds to let the older stew over before grinning widely and announicing, "How about 'Lucius'?"

"Lucius... Comes from Latin 'Lux', meaning: 'Light'. We have a Saint Lucius from the 3rd century, I think. ...Yes, I like it very much. What about the last name?"

"That depends on his guardians and keepers. However, his first name should remain... permanent." Undertaker said, and saw the great death god nod.

"Then, Lucius it is." The great death god lapped the surface of his desk with his right hand as if to conclude this conversation, then stood from his seat.

"Let me get the official perchment, and the ink ready. You can create the document... maybe 4 copies of it, then I will dispatch my personal messengers to the holy realm of both this and the Hindu kingdom. One of the two remaining copies should be kept here with us, and the remaining one should be delivered to the Phantomhive townhouse in London. I believe the entire estate is still regarded as our realm." The great death god said, then called for his secretary to prepare the necessary tools.

'Yes, Lucius,' Undertaker thought, 'Almighty knows we could use as many lights as possible, to lead us through the darkness.'

*END*

(The story arc will continue in the sequel: "The Ambassador")