“Thanos! I have not seen you since I was a girl. Come, you must have dinner at my place tonight.” Serena said as she grasped the old man’s hands warmly in her own. She’d known him, or rather of him, since she was a mere babe. Always, he went by only the name “Thanos”.

“Serena my dear, you are looking lovely. When last I saw you, you were a new bride, hardly a child.” He saw the haunted and pained look in her features. His comment brought forth dreadful memories and he seemed to finally recall the cause. “I am sorry for your loss. I remember hearing the sad news…” Thanos trailed off, placing two fingers to his right temple as if that would help him recall all the details.

Her features cleared immediately as Serena took pity on the old man. He’d been ancient when she’d known him years ago. It seemed time had not been kind to his mental capacity. “Thank you Thanos. I look forward to seeing you this evening.” It was a gentle reminder that he had other duties, which she knew.

“Oh, right.” he replied, recalling himself. “I have to meet with the council members. I will see you later, then.”

As Serena watched him move deeper into the caves, toward the Council Chamber, she could not understand why some feared the old man. They seemed to think he was inherently evil and out to destroy all the rebels. If that were the case, he could have done so those thirteen years ago when he’d spirited the babe Haleema away. He had kept her safe all these years, never giving the Daemon a hint of her whereabouts.

She could not fathom this animosity some had toward Thanos. He was a dear old soul who had once been a legend. Serena shrugged her shoulders and turned toward her domicile. Already her thoughts were turning to what she should serve as she keyed open her door. It was a techie-invention, but the wards she set on her home were purely magic. She’d have known if anyone had tried to jimmy the lock.

Her home was not large by cave-standards, but it was comfortable. The current inventions did not show themselves much in her home. The fire and candles she used for light and warmth, were lit by magic. Her meals were cooked on the stove. The music she listened to came from a magical box her father had once gifted her with on her twelfth birthday. No, she did not trust the new technologies as much as she trusted her magic.

Serena knew that one day, techies would out-number magicians, but she hoped not to be alive when this new age came about.