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“’Ro! Wake up! Jesus Christ, ‘Ro! Wake up!”
Ororo blinked her eyes repeatedly, trying to focus. It was hard to do, someone was screaming and screaming. A chair slammed into the wall above her head, breaking apart on impact.
The winds were howling and outside thunder boomed continuously, lightening turning night to day, hail slamming through the windows, raining glass everywhere.
“’Ro, come back to me, baby! Come on! There are three goddamn F-5 tornados coming straight at us!” A grunt as a piece of debris caught him in the head.
“L-Logan?” The screaming stopped. Oh, it was her.
“Turn ‘em off, darlin’.” he said, dodging another piece of flying furniture, trying to make his way toward her, sinking his claws into the floor.
Outside Ororo heard the unmistakable roar of multiple tornados. She tensed when one of the black Hummers the team kept in the front driveway slammed into the outside wall of the Institute, flames flaring up into the sky as it dropped onto the ground.
“’Ro!”
Ororo’s eyes went cloudy white, her hands weaving patterns in the air as she soothed the monster she had awakened. After only a brief moment the sky cleared, winds dying down. Wolverine watched as the funnel clouds that had been rearranging the woods and front part of the estate died down, then dissipated as though they never had been.
He had been jerked from sleep by Ororo’s bloodcurdling scream, his body tossed across the room like a rag doll as wind and rain erupted all around him. It was a display like he had never witnessed before. Still looking out the broken window at the destruction left behind by the storm’s fury Logan briefly wondered if Gambit had gotten out of the boathouse before Storm’s tornados had shredded it. He got his answer almost immediately as the Cajun dropped into the room through the busted skylight.
“Stormy! What’s de matter? If Wolverine--”
-SNIKT- Wolverine growled. Gambit ignored him, but wisely let the rest of that sentence trail off.
“Logan!” Ororo looked past Gambit and bolted from the bed, rushing towards Wolverine, throwing herself into his arms. He grunted on impact, retracting his claws, pulling her close, murmuring softly in her hair. “It’s ok, babe. It’s ok.”
Ororo stepped away from him, running her hands along his face and chest as if checking for injuries. “Are you okay?”
“Just a couple of bruises, darlin’.” He said, referring to the hits he had taken from the flying furniture. “Already healin’.”
She placed her head to his chest, her ear directly over his thundering heart. “I thought…” she couldn’t finish.
Suddenly she pulled away from him, turning towards the door. She had made it half way across the room when the door flew open and a teary eyed Jean stumbled in. Neither woman said anything for a moment, but then both hurried forward embracing each other.
“Oh my God!” Jean cried.
“You too?” Ororo asked. Jean nodded, a broken sob torn from her throat.
Gambit looked at Wolverine who lifted his shoulders, as lost in the exchange as the Cajun. Ororo and Jean spoke hurriedly, in hushed whispers, but from the snippets Logan’s sensitive hearing picked up he gathered the two of them had just shared a nightmare.
“’Ro? Jean?”
“Oh, Logan!” Jean broke away from Storm, running to him, hugging him.
“Uh, hey, Red.” Logan hugged her back, rubbing her shoulders. In the doorway Scott’s tall figure appeared.
“Does someone want to fill me in on what the hell is going on?” he demanded, arms crossed. No one answered.
Remy turned to Storm opening his arms. “I’m ‘ere if you need me, padnat.”
“Got it covered, Gumbo.” Logan snarled.
“From ‘ere it looks like you got yer hands full wit‘ Jean yet again, mon ami.”
Logan growled setting Jean aside, stalking towards Gambit. “You crawfish smellin’ piece of shit, come here!” -SNIKT-
“Logan.” Ororo stepped between him and Gambit.
“One day ‘Ro, you’re gonna have to let the boy grow up!” He went to step around her.
“Please.” The softly spoken word stopped Logan in his tracks. Son of a-- He retracted his claws.
“Go.” he growled at Gambit, who in return gave him a mock salute before leaping over the balcony railing with no more than a faint rustle from his duster.
“Thank you.”
Logan rumbled in return. “So, like Cyke said, wanna fill us in on what the hell is going on?”
“Yes, but give us a minute.” Jean stated. She walked over to her husband resting her head on his shoulder wearily. Scott cradled her close, kissing the top of her head.
“When you’re ready,” he said.
“I could use a beer.” Logan stated, pulling a pair of jeans on over his boxers.
“Sounds good.” Scott agreed.
Taking Storm’s chin in his hand Logan gave her a slow kiss, resting his forehead against hers when it was over. “Love ya.”
Ororo nodded.
When both men had left the demolished room Ororo and Jean sat beside one another on the bed. “So…”
“Yeah, so…”
“What do you think it means?” Ororo asked.
“I don’t know.” Jean replied truthfully. “ I’ve been having dreams of the Phoenix for the past few weeks, but none have ever felt that real.”
“I thought the Phoenix was gone.”
“It’s never really gone,” Jean sighed. “It’s a part of me and me of it. It’s hard to explain, but I can feel it lying dormant in my mind.” She tapped one finger against her temple.
“That did not feel dormant.” Ororo said softly.
“I know, but as soon as I woke up, I knew it had been a dream, that the Phoenix was still sleeping in my subconscious and not active.” Jean pushed her hands through her hair, resting her elbows on her knees.
“What have the other dreams been like?” Ororo asked after a short silence.
Jean was quiet for a minute more before answering, “I am flying, and I’m searching for something. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I know I’ll know it when I find it. Just when I feel like I am getting close to whatever it is that I’m looking for I am surrounded by darkness and moving shadows and then the Phoenix is screeching. Screaming like it is in pain. That’s when I wake up.”
“Hm.”
“Yeah, hm.”
After another moment of silence, “You know, I think I could use a drink as well,” Ororo said reaching for her robe, but realized it was not on the chair beside the bed. Because the chair beside the bed was smashed against the wall, she noted.
“Here.” Jean pulled the familiar garment from under the bed, shaking shards of glass from the fabric.
“Thanks.” Ororo slipped it on over her white nightdress.
Jean surveyed the room. “Looks like a tornado came through here.” Both women smiled a bit at the intended pun.

Xavier’s Office
Early Morning

“That was quite a show last night, Storm,” Charles was saying. He had summoned Wolverine, Jean, Scott and Storm to his office shortly after sunrise. He had known they were not sleeping, but instead were all seated in the kitchen engaged in deep conversation about the dream that Ororo and Jean had shared.
When the entire story was told Logan had taken a swig of his beer, then said, “Damn. Right outta my chest?” Jean had simply nodded, and ‘Ro looked like she was going to heave so he let it go. But a part of him was insanely pleased with Ororo’s reaction. He knew she hated to lose control, but the fact that she had nearly wiped out the estate all because she was upset over him, well it was damn flattering.
Now the four of them were seated around Xavier’s desk waiting to hear what Charles had to say about everything.
“I believe your mutant powers are expanding at an exponential rate.” Charles continued. “The more your other skills develop the more your mutant abilities develop. It’s as though your body is maintaining some type of balance, an equilibrium. I have some interesting readings that Hank gathered during your Danger Room exercises.” He placed a manila folder on the desk.
Ororo picked it up, opening it and reading the charts inside. “These can’t be right,” she said. “I mean the performance readings are off the scale.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Well, that explains the super powerful tornados, but what about the shared dream?” Scott asked.
“Jean is a telepath, Scott.” Xavier said, eyebrow raised.
“Are you saying I wanted Storm to see that dream?” Jean asked disbelieving. There was no way she would have wanted her best friend to feel the kind of pain the dream had caused her.
“Maybe not you,” the Professor agreed picking up on her thoughts.
“The Phoenix,” Jean whispered.
“Tell me, what color was the costume you were wearing in the dream?” Xavier asked.
Jean paused, “Green and gold.”
“Are you saying, Professor, that the dream was sent by the Phoenix as a message, as opposed to a threat?” Scott asked, understanding the significance of the gold and green versus the red and gold.
“What could it have wanted to tell Storm?” Jean questioned as well.
“It could very well have been a threat,” Xavier said shaking his head. “I’m not ruling out that possibility. Since I am unable to access the Phoenix in Jean’s mind, this is all just assumption. However, the coloring of the costume indicates that this was not an attack waged out of animosity, but perhaps one of defense.”
“Defense?” Ororo sat forward. “I would never harm Jean.”
“Perhaps not, but from what Jean has told me of her previous dreams, maybe the Phoenix and you now share a common enemy.”
“That’s a lot of perhaps and maybes, Chuck. Whaddya got that’s concrete?”
“Unfortunately not much.” Charles rolled away from the desk. “I will be heading to England with Kurt and Henry this afternoon. We are going to meet Psylocke and Warren at Excalibur’s headquarters. While I am there I plan to see if they have any information from Belasco that Ilyanna may have left behind from her time on the team. I am hopeful that over there I may find some answers for you, Storm.”
“I wish you luck,” Ororo said sincerely. She rose to her feet. “If you will all excuse me, I would like some time alone.” She tossed the Danger Room file back onto the mahogany desk.
Logan rose, but she shook her head. He sat back down, watching her intently as she walked away.
Ororo strode out the door, her strides purposeful. She made her way down the long corridor, down the stairs and out the front door of the institute. Once outside and away from the mansion Ororo stripped off her white cotton shirt, tore the elastic from her hair, and yanked off her khakis with impatient tugs. Naked she took to the air, flying high in the sky until she was directly over the lake. Looking down at the crystalline water she gave into the urge to dive into the clear depths. She broke the surface with barely a splash, diving deep, letting the cool water wash away her stress, her worries. Surfacing she rolled so that she was floating on her back, She let her mind wander over last night’s recent events. She could still hear the Phoenix saying, “Come, Windrider, let’s see if you have what it takes to be a true Sat-ne a’nekh.” How had the Phoenix known about the Daughter of the Light?
Ororo splashed in frustration. Her mother had been a hemet-netjer-lepet {High Priestess}, but had died before ever having the chance to teach Ororo anything about it.
Ororo paused, treading water. She had spoken to her mother once before, and if she was this all powerful sorceress that could open the realm to the dead, well, shouldn’t she at least try to go get some answers from someone who would have them? She couldn’t stand it if her ignorance cost Logan his life. Images of the dream flashed in her minds eye. No, she refused to let that happen!
She was not the co-leader of the X-Men for nothing. She knew how to make decisions and get the job done. Decision made Ororo took action. Concentrating, eyes going stark, Ororo summoned sub zero arctic winds, the water around her growing colder and colder, a fine sheet of ice beginning to make slow progress across the water’s surface. She could feel her body’s automatic reaction, her internal temperature rising to combat the cold. She focused, willing her body to relax and accept the freezing temperature. Her breath clouded in the air in front of her face, her teeth chattering. Just a little more, she told herself. Her arms and legs ached, pain running through her muscles as she trembled and shivered. Soon though, her body began to feel heavy, lethargic. Ororo clenched her teeth, summoning even more cold. As the ice began to thicken all around her Ororo pushed herself downward so that she was trapped below the surface as the top of the lake solidified into a giant slab of ice.
Okay, here goes…

Warmth, all around. Bright white, a sea of tranquility. Sparkling blue eyes.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Blessed Goddess, Ororo, what have you done?”
Ororo felt herself drifting languidly and was having a hard time focusing on her mother’s voice. She wanted to close her eyes and drift…No. She focused on the blue eyes in front of her.
“I need some answers, Mom. I need your help.”
N’Dare’s slender figure materialized from white light all around them, her long hair swirling about her face. Despite having seen her mother here before Ororo still felt her breath catch in her throat, tears stinging behind her eyes.
“You should not be here, daughter.” Her mother said softly.
“I had no choice. I need answers, and I think you are the only one that can help me.”
N’Dare momentarily lost her serene expression, “It is forbidden for me to interfere. You must go now, brave girl. You can not stay here, the longer you dwell in the In-between the harder it will be for you to return. Go now…”
Ororo coasted closer to her mother. “Please, Mom, I have questions and I think you have the answers. I am not leaving until I get them.”
N’Dare smiled ruefully. “You always were stubborn. You get that from your father.” After a time, and in this place it was hard to judge how long, N’Dare said, “He must be very special.”
Ororo opened her eyes. When had she closed her eyes? “Who?”
“The man you are here to protect. I see your heart, blessed child, and I feel your love for this man, this…Wolverine?” N’Dare said his name, voice slightly incredulous.
Ororo laughed. “Logan, Mom. His name is Logan. Wolverine is his code name.”
“Thank the Bright Lady. I do not wish for grandchildren named Badger or after some other such woodland critter.” N’Dare murmured causing Ororo to smile.
Her heart had jumped at her mother’s mention of grandchildren, her mind picturing herself swollen with Logan’s baby. It brought a tender ache in her chest.
“Ah, yes, you love him very much.” The light swirled, becoming brighter for a moment, causing Ororo to flinch. Another flash of bright light and Ororo winced. She was confused, it had not hurt to be here the last time she was here.
As if reading her mind, and who knew maybe she was, N’Dare said, “You were meant to be here before, daughter. It was the way it was written, but now you are forcing your way in, and you should not be. It would be best if you tried to leave now.”
Ororo refused to move, instead saying, “Not without some answers. What is the Daughter of Light?”
N’Dare sighed, but smiled at Ororo despite her frustration. So much like her father…
“In your heart you know the answer to that question.”
“I am the Daughter of Light.”
“Yes.”
“The Guardian of Earth?”
“One of them.”
“And what are the Daemonites?”
N’Dare said nothing.
“The Daemonites, Mother. What are they?” Ororo was persistent.
“They are demons.”
“Yes, I gathered they were a demonic race.”
“No, child. They are Demons. Original monsters from the depths of Hell.”
That made Ororo pause. “You do not believe in hell,” she said to N’Dare.
“There is no one right belief, child of my heart. This is a universe of infinite possibilities. There are many things that remain complicated even after death.”
“Good to know.”
“Was that sarcasm, Ororo?”
“I apologize, Mom. I am just so frustrated.”
“Do not apologize. I see you, blessed child. So reserved, so confined. You should let the true Ororo out more often. It pains me to see you hide beneath the false shell you have created about yourself.”
“I am reserved.” Ororo stated flatly.
“Ha. I know better, child. You are thunder and rain, the winds of change themselves. Goddess, Ororo, just look at how many times you’ve altered your hair.”
“I believe we are straying form the topic.” Ororo said, feeling her body growing heavy. It was hard to keep her eyes open.
“Yes.” N’Dare touched her fingers to Ororo’s eyes. “Focus, daughter. Do not wander.”
Ororo blinked. “The Daemonites?”
“The Daemonites first appeared on the earth in what is now Luxor, Egypt over four thousand years ago.”
“The Karnak Temple.” Ororo whispered.
“Yes. Built to appease the demons by the great pharaohs.“
“But where did they come from? How did they get there?“
“The demons seemingly arrived from no where, killing and raping and maiming. They wiped out entire villages in a single night. It was later discovered that a local village Shaman had summoned them forth to take revenge on some poachers that had killed a sacred white boar.”
“If this Shaman summoned them forth, why did he not just send them back?”
“The Shaman tried, but was unable to do so. He had used almost all of his power to summon the demons from the pits of Hell, and was unable to send them back. The doorway to Hell is very hard to open, near impossible. Unable to return the demons from whence they came, the Shaman sent out a call to the spirits of the earth, requesting protection from the evil he had brought forth. The spirits were not eager to comply, as revenge is not looked upon favorably. However, they could not let such evil stand on their beloved planet. So it said that the four spirits of the Earth, Geb, Isis, Aten and Auramoouth, decided to form a soldier to combat the Daemonites and remove them from the realm of Earth. This soldier was to be the Daughter of the Light. But before the spirits had completed their warrior, the demons vanished.”
“This sounds like one of the fables you read to me as a child,” Ororo said skeptically.
“Yes.” N’Dare’s gaze was serious.
Ororo gasped at the implication. “You knew.”
“Yes.” N’dare floated, waving her hand, swirling the drifting clouds absently. “I was born with the mark.” She showed Ororo the inside of her wrist, where a thin birthmark lay. It was shaped like a bolt of lightening. Ororo touched her fingertips to the faded scar on her chest, almost identical to her mother’s mark. “I knew that my child would be the Sat-ne a’nekh. I did not want that for you, Ororo. And I am sorry that I did not train you, or teach you what was to be expected. I had hoped the day would never come when you would need to be told.”
“I do not believe this.” Ororo declared.
“Still, child? After all you have seen?”
“You would be amazed at the things I have seen,” Ororo said. She yawned, so sleepy.
“Daughter, you must leave.”
“No. I still have questions.” She shook her head, clearing it. “If the Daemonites are from Hell why are they afraid of Limbo?”
“They are not.”
“In a journal written by a sorcerer named Belasco I read that the Daemonites were the scourge of all possible Universes and that they feared a sorceress that could send them to some type of death dimension. He wrote that the N‘Garai wished to find the Daughter of the Light and use her to send the Daemonites into such a place.”
“The N’Garai are pathetic little creatures with no real sense of what is going on in the universe outside their own little existence.” N’Dare’s voice was scathing. “Belasco was grasping at straws, trying to find a way to rid the N‘Garai of the demons that had made their way into their dimension, he had very little knowledge of what he faced. He made the near correct assumption that the only way to rid himself of the Daemonites was to push them out of a dimensional rift, but this was an idea he gathered from the Destiny Diaries.”
“Destiny Diaries?”
“Another quest, another time.” N’Dare said carefully.
Ororo nodded in understanding. Already her mother had told her it was forbidden for her to help, and Ororo was not going to push her for more than she was willing to give. Instead she said, “That does explain his fascination with Magik. Ilyanna could open small discs through space and time. Perhaps he thought her able to defeat the Daemonites, or at the very least remove them.”
“Ah, yes, Illyana. A powerful magic wielder indeed, but not even she would have been strong enough to defeat the Daemonites. They would have devoured her as easily as they devour everything else.”
“You make them sound unstoppable.”
“They very nearly are.”
“That is not all together comforting.” Ororo said, tone dry.
“I know, beloved. I wish I could give you words of comfort, to take away your fear, but I can not. Things were thrown off skew when you left the In-between and returned to Earth. You made a choice that day, and that has altered destiny, has changed fate.”
“Wait. How do you change fate? It is fate. Besides I do not believe in preordained destiny. My future is what I choose it to be.”
“That much is obviously true.” N’Dare smiled. “Too true. Hopefully that will not change, if nothing else, in the coming war.”
“War?”
“Blessed child, you do not believe the Daemonites are going to leave you be now that they know who you are.”
“I had hoped. Why come after me if they believe I am the Daughter of the Light, if they fear the death dimension that I can send them to?”
“They do not fear death, child. Daemonites can not die, for they are never truly alive.”
“Then why fear the Daughter of the Light?”
“They fear you,” N’Dare said emphasizing the you, wanting Ororo to accept that she was indeed the fabled Guardian of Earth. “Is because you can send them back to Hell, never to return.”
“How?”
“That I do not know. There are some things that you will have to discover on your own.”
“Great.”
“Ororo, listen to me. Your power is beyond anything that I can fathom, but it is not limitless. The battle will be long and hard, and…” N’Dare looked uncertain, almost afraid.
“What?”
“The Daemonites will use whatever it is that hurts you the most to destroy you.”
“Logan…” Ororo breathed.
N’Dare said nothing but the answer was on her face. Ororo shook her head. “No. They will not touch him! How do I stop them?”
“Ororo, brave girl, I can not answer that question. You will only find that answer inside of yourself. The only advice I can give you I have. Stop hiding from who you truly are. Do not fear it, embrace it.”
Such simple words, Ororo thought. But how could she let her walls down? There was too much at stake. For crying out loud, she’d had a nightmare and nearly demolished the institute. She couldn’t risk losing her control.
“Sat-merwet, {daughter of love} if you live in fear of yourself, how then can you be expected to face the challenges that lay before you?”
Ororo started to speak but found herself unable to do so. Her body was simply too heavy now, weighing her down. Her eyelids were so burdensome. Painful tingling was running up and down her spine.
“Ororo, go now. You do not belong here. You are not allowed to stay.” The image of her mother was fading. “Go, or you will be trapped here. Go!”
Ororo tried to nod, but the effort was too much. She struggled to stay awake. “Thank you…”
Suddenly the white light around her flared unbelievably bright, then began to fade to pink, heating her flesh.

“Ro!” Strong hands were lifting her limp body from the freezing water. Her wet hair sloshing, slapping her in the face. Her teeth were chattering so loudly she could barely hear the person talking.
“Got her?” Someone asked.
“Got her.” Rough, gravelly voice.
“Good.” Cyclops said, clicking his visor, cutting off the optic beam he had been using to melt the ice.
“Damn you, Ororo Munroe. That is the second fucking heart attack ya’ve given me in two months!”
“L-l-l-ogan, what a-ar-re you d-d-d-doing?” Her body trembled uncontrollably.
Logan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, letting his body heat seep into hers. “I was just about to ask ya the same question, ‘Ro. What the fuck do ya think yer doing?” Logan tried hard not to shake her. His jaw was clenched so tight he thought he could hear his teeth cracking.
When he had walked out of Xavier’s office ten minutes ago he had immediately headed for the lake. On the walk he had found scattered garments littered along the ground and had picked them up, smiling as he pictured ‘Ro naked, swimming in the lake. What he had seen had been far more disturbing. The entire lake was frozen solid, and had it not been for Ororo’s three longest fingers poking out of the ice he would never have known where she was. He had sprinted across the distance separating them, looking through the ice he had seen her. Her head was tilted back, eyes closed, white hair a frozen web around her head. Unsheathing his claws he had begun chopping away at the ice like a madman. Jean must have sensed something was wrong because she and Cyke appeared next to him abruptly. Cyclops had let loose with a low powered optic blast, melting the ice around Ororo. Now he was holding her as she coughed, ice water splashing from her blue lips.
“What happened?” Jean asked, she was telekinetically manipulating the air around Ororo, drying her off.
“Froze the lake.” Ororo mumbled.
“I see that, but why?”
“Answers. Needed answers.” She shivered, pressing against Logan.
“Did you find what you were looking for?” Scott asked, a bit unbelieving at the extremes Ororo had gone to. She was usually so level headed.
Ororo opened her eyes, black as night, and in her deep echoing voice responded, “Yes.”





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