For those of you wondering, I decided to leave the name Dorian in the first chapter, since this started out as an original and I liked the name in the original quite a bit. You'll see why the name doesn't matter at the end of this chapter.

Chapter 3 edited 3/14/2010 again on 3/20/2010

Dargon flared his blue wings as his wine glass shattered from the pressure of him grip. Glass shards fell to the floor with a tinkling sound, mixed with the sloshing sound of liquid. Red wine and blood dripped from his hand where a few glass shards had landed.

At the sound of the shattering glass, a servant appeared in the once closed doorway. "My lord, are you okay, I heard glass shatter." Spoke his servant.

Dargon took his eyes away from the large screen T.V. and turned them to that of the servant. He narrowed his eyes in anger, and slowly brought the anger under control. Deamon's who showed emotions were useless. They were weak and easily manipulated. Or so he had always been told.

"I am fine Stiles!" Dargon spoke evenly. "You may clean up the glass."

Stiles entered the room and headed toward the mess. Upon reaching it he turned to his master, who now sat behind the desk.

"Sire, your hand should be taken care of first!' Stiles spoke.

Dargon eyed the hand that had been holding the glass. It was covered in wine and blood and slowly the glass shards were being expelled from the wounds. He had forgotten that his servant was a mere human. He stood quickly and thanked the servant before hastily leaving the room. Upon exiting the doors, he saw Stiles cleaning the broken glass. He silently looked up and down the hallway for anymore of his human servants. Upon seeing none he held his hand up and flexed it a few times. A yellow-red glow engulfed his hand. The glass shards disintegrated and the blood and wine singed from his hand. He closed his hand and the glow vanished. He walked back into the room and watched as his servant instinctively looked to his hand.

"Your hand milord?" Noticed Stiles.

"It was not as bad as it had appeared, just covered in wine." He returned to his desk and turned the television off. He faced the Television for a few moments then turned back to his desk and caught the servant starting at him.

"Have you finished cleaning up the mess?" He asked evenly.

Stile gulped and nodded.

"Then I no longer have need for you; please return to your normal duties!" Dargon demanded.

"Yes, my lord!" Stiles said bowing and quickly exciting the room. He closed the doors behind him, leaving Dargon alone. His wings were spread out from behind him. His emotions could not be hidden as long as he had wings. How could deamons' control emotions when they lost someone so close to them? He in fact had never been that good at controlling his emotions. If not for his father's place in the clan of the Dragon, he probably would have been killed long ago.

He sighed heavily as the image of his dead father resurfaced in his head. He was now leader of the clan. After 100 years, he had finally gotten the place that many dreamed of. His father had not died by the hand of another deamon looking to take his place as leader; he had been killed by a deamon-half defending himself. Why did his father have to retrieve so many children of such importance? Why was it that nobility were the only children that could become deamons? His anger was flaring up again and he quelled it.

"Master Dargon?" Spoke a deep voice in the room.

Dargon looked up to find a deamon with blue wings bowing to him.

"I unfortunately have to report that your father died in pursuit of our target." Spoke Motor, the deamon that had no problem with his job, felt no remorse, felt nothing except happiness at the deaths of parents of the children he kidnapped.

"I appreciate your report, although with the damage you two did, it was unnecessary." Spoke Dargon rising from his chair. He walked around the desk and sat atop the other side. His weakness must be hidden in front of the privileged that could enter his chambers unannounced.

"Unbeknownst to your father and I, the child we acquired was from that of a rogue deamon. " Mortor spoke slowly rising from his bowed position.

"The Earthen King was a rouge deamon?" Dargon asked with reluctance.

"Yes my lord, it was most shocking to acquire this information."

"Do you have more information for me?" Dargon asked trying to get Motor to his point.

"Sorry, Mi-lord. Your father was killed after killing the Earthen King. The poisonous blood of a deamon that has forsaken his clan. The king put up a rather tiresome fight, but in the end was overpowered. I managed to extract information from him before his complete death and obtained the whereabouts of the prophesized child. I was able to obtain the child, but was not able to kill the Queen; she was retrieved by an angel I believe. She vanished as I was about to kill her, I was very displeased.

"Cursed angels, I thought they had been wiped out long ago. We have not seen one in ages. That is why the process of becoming a deamon takes so long. Without the angels it is a difficult and lengthy process." Replied Dargon.

"Yes, but you know as well as I do, that since the child's mother was granted an angel protector he will be as well. This is a most wonderful occurrence. He is the prophesized child, he has to be."

"Why does he have to be?' Dargon asked narrowing his eyes.

Motor held out a hand and slowly a child appeared in his hands. He was around the age of four and held dark colored wings, difficult to distinguish color from Dargon's place.

"Has it truly been six months since the child was abducted? The news is truly slow in the human world."

"It took the return of the queen until the body of your father was discovered; I apologize for not appearing sooner." Motor spoke, lying.

"The child of the damned she called him!" Dargon spoke reading a memory he was able to pull from the depts of Mortor's mind.

"My lord?" Questioned Mortor

"Lying will not bode well for you Mortor; you had wanted to keep the child hidden from me in hopes that he could help you obtain my place as leader of the clan. I have the same abilities of my father, however your trust I have never obtained, so therefore in my right I have checked your thoughts and memories."

"My lord….."

"Speechless are we, my father never once thought you would betray him. You used my father's ability to obtain the information the rouge deamon had. My father's death was a result of both of your carelessness. To know that when a deamon places something above his life, it will take that of another Deamon's life to obtain the information. When the rouge deamon put his wife's whereabouts above all else, it required my fathers life to obtain this information along with that life of the rouge deamon. My father did not die in glory, but died because of a mere child that could prove to be the prophesized one."

"I also know from your memories that you knew what it would take to extract the information from the deamon king. You would never give up your life for another deamon; you would happily sacrifice my father for your life and the glory you would obtain in returning with the chosen child. "

You are sentenced to wing stripping Mortor and granted your fear; you will be thrown in the human world and live out the rest of your life as a human. May the humans be pleasant to you. "

"My lord, please, please I beg forgiveness!" Mortor returned to his knees and bowed showing his wings to Dargon.

"You should have thought about the reprecutions of you being found out!" Dargon growled A sword suddenly appeared in Dargon's hand. He flared his wings quietly and launched himself off the desk. He spread his wings and caught the air to allow him to glide silently. He reached the deamon that kneeled begging for his life and cut the wings from his back. They vanished almost instantly. .

Mortor cried in pain and fell to the floor unconscious. Dargon stared from above the man. He held the four year old child in his arms and shook his head. Mortor could never be trusted. While it was deamon way to fight to obtain leadership, killing for the right to live was never a good means and went against the clan, when the man you killed was the leader. Cowardice would not be tolerated. Had it been a fair battle for leadership, Dargon would not have cared and would have been lifted from his ominous burden. But then if Mortor had possessed the ability to lead, he would have been killed long ago. Threats to the leadership were always killed. The way of the clan was sometimes almost contradicting. Dargon would see that the clan had a long life while he remained leader.

What to call this child, he had not retrieved a name from Mortor before erasing his memories of his life as a deamon. What name would suit such an innocent creature with the wings that were to bring change to the world. A name….Endymion. The name of a character in his memories. The name stood out, but the story that was behind it he could not remember

"Your name will be Endymion, my child and you will soon be on your way to becoming a deamon the world has never seen.

The third installment of the revised chapters.