Hidden deep inside the bank's vault, there lives a man. A tedious, old man. A man with attention to detail. A man with knowledge that bridges the past and enters the present. A man who sits with a magnifying glass in hand categorizing his collection, categorizing history, categorizing the lives of those around him. Categorizing the World.

His thin glasses fall to the bottom of his nose, as his cracked, arthritic fingers carefully place each precious coin in its plastic jacket. Gold, copper, iron, and silver. Each coin is given as much reverence as the one before it. For each coin represents the people and places of his land. Even the king, himself had a gold coin minted at birth. Nobody escapes the Treasury.

Puck leaned over, whispering into Johnny's ear, 'He is the Collector.'

The old man didn't even stop to look up at his two visitors, he was too busy working. Well if you could call it work, Johnny questioned the importance of anybody who collected pieces of metal for enjoyment. Money was meant to be spent.

Puck seemed to be getting a bit restless. He had dealt with the Collector before, always busy putting people in their places. A nymph with the nymph coins, a human with the human coins, trees were in another binder. Everything given a history, a past, an importance under his magnifying glass. Quite honestly, it crept the faerie out; he liked to think he had some control over his life, without somebody scrutinising him everyday.

The sprite coughed in order to get the attention of the wizened hermit. Raising his magnifying class before the two travellers, his gray eye was comically large. In a startled voice the Collector wheezed, 'Didn't see you there Puck.' Then removing his magnifying glass, revealing his beady eyes, he grinned a knowing grin, 'So this is he?'

Johnny didn't react. He didn't know if he was supposed to introduce himself or not. He didn't know what to do. Nobody clued him in on how to deal with the Collector. Puck certainly was no help.

The nymph grinned, 'Yeah, this is he.' The nymph sized Johnny up again, shrugging he added, 'Not sure if he's much of anything though.'

The old man wheezed a laugh, 'Oh silence Puck, if he's here that must mean the Universe has some place for him.' He flipped a gold coin, 'Like my coins.'

'Don't talk to me about your coins,' Puck groaned. 'They're half the reason we're in this mess.'

With creaking bones, the Collector got up from his dusty wooden desk his magnifying glass in hand. Johnny shivered, he had the feeling he was waiting in a doctor's office. He just knew this was going to be another examination. All he wanted was an explanation.

As the old man crept closer, Johnny extended his hands. 'It's okay,' he blurted out, 'I'm fit! I'm able!'

The Collector chuckled, turning to Puck he grinned, 'He's smart.'

Under his breath Puck muttered, 'That's about all he is!'

Johnny grinned, despite his dislike for being spoken to in the third person between two scrutinizing strangers, he had at least won a small victory. Now he decided was time to get some of the questions he had been dying to ask answered. Like why was he here? Where was Here in the first place? What was going on exactly? Why was he expected? These questions had simmered with the walk through the glade, the dark forest, through the broken countryside, and into the city. Now they had boiled over.

The Collector's beady gray eyes brightened, as if he had read the boy's mind he said, 'Your questions will be answered in due time.' Shuffling past his two visitors, he added, 'For now we must have tea!'

Quite honestly, Johnny never liked tea. It was always too bitter when his grandmother made it, not enough sugar. While the pre-made tea his real mom concocted was always much too watered down. When he was offered tea, he merely passed it up. If neither his grandmother or mother could make it correctly, then he doubted some hermit would be able to either.

So as he sat politely between the two men, his eyes darted back and forth watching their expressions. The disdain on Puck's face. The delight on the Collector's. The nymph spoke of the present. The Collector, the past. Neither agreed upon anything. Neither wanted to give up his position. And neither wanted to acknowledge Johnny.

'So have we found them yet?' asked the Collector.

The nymph chuckled, 'You expect me to know that old man!'

The Collector shrugged, 'Well certainly your mistress the Flower Child has a vague idea of where they are.'

Puck rolled his eyes, 'Isn't that why you guys sent for him?' The nymph's gray eyes motioned towards Johnny.

Johnny sighed, yet again they were speaking of him in third person. It just didn't make sense. It was as if they were going out of their way to not answer his questions. As if they were just expecting him to figure it out.

Turning to Johnny, the Collector finally addressed the boy, 'I guess you want an explanation young man.' Johnny merely nodded. 'Very well,' the Collector began to begin. He was the man in charge of History and Order in the World. It was the Collector's job to understand and categorize the past of every living being in the World. Without him nobody would know his or her place. Without him a person wouldn't know who he was or where he may be going.

Puck howled in pain, he knew the Collector well, too well; it was going to be a long story.

Despite Puck's disrespect the hermit finally began his story, 'Our world is controlled by Four Great Powers. Two Lighter Powers and Two Darker Powers,' he raised four bent fingers to punctuate his point. 'They are Order (which is my job), Life(the Flower Child's profession), Disorder (controlled by Puck's big brother Elton Fait, who the humans often mistake for Fate), and Death (a loner).' Johnny nodded slowly, this was heavy. 'In the old days we used to meet regularly, the Three Other Powers and myself, but recently we have grown too fond of our respective lairs. Including myself, sadly the quiet darkness of the bank is more than enough for me. This doesn't mean that we don't meet though, you must understand this!' He pointed accusingly at Johnny.

Puck slouched in his chair, 'Yeah,' he piped in, 'it was one of your little meetings that drove my brother and Death out of the World.' He glared hard at the old man, 'Your coins and Order and History were too much for them. You had coins for everybody! You knew everything about everybody. Even Elton Fait!'

The Collector returned Puck's glare. 'A place for everybody and everybody in their place,' was the hermit's only response.

'A place for Fate! Fate has no place,' he gesticulated savagely at the Collector. 'And Death, I'm amazed she didn't strike you down right there!'

Johnny's head began to throb with the anger between the two immortals. He couldn't stand their rivalry, their grudge. He wasn't into metaphysics, all he saw were two great egos clashing with brands of fiery rhetoric.

The two began to growl at one another, letting their feud spill over into the tea. 'What about your coin Collector?!' the nymph hollered. 'What about the Flower Child's?!'

Johnny couldn't stand it anymore. They were worse than his uncles, worse than he and his little brother, worse than he and his dad. There seemed to be no bounds to their vendetta. At the top of his Johnny lungs screamed, 'Shut up! Both of you!'

Puck was the first to snap to attention, he didn't expect that kind of assertiveness from Johnny. Up until now he had been docile, even mild about his place in the World. The Collector merely blinked in disbelief.

Taking a deep breath, Johnny shot a stone cold glare at the hermit. 'Continue your story Mr Collector, please,' he said politely.

The Collector coughed, then gave a knowing sneer to Puck. 'Very well,' he continued, 'It was during one of these meetings, centuries ago, that I displayed my newly minted coins for each of the Four Powers.' He glared again at Puck, 'It was my hope that someday when our World was long gone somebody would remember us. After all sometimes we're passed over. Who cares for the past when the present is always around? Who cares for order when the world is full of disorder?' This time the Collector shot Puck an evil eye, along with his verbal salvo. The faerie only turned his nose up in disgust.

'So what happened when you showed your coins to the other three Powers?' Johnny asked, genuinely curious.

'Well...' the Collector explained reluctantly, 'Disorder and Death seemed to take offense to it, they are after all the Darker Powers.' This time Puck looked like he was going to jump over the table to strangle the old man. 'The Lighter Power, Life seemed perfectly fine with it. She even suggested that we each wear our coins as medallions.'

Puck muttered, 'And solidify your control over the Powers, never!'

The Collector shot another glare that would stop a deer in his tracks to the seething Puck, slowly he explained, 'The Darker Powers didn't seem to realize what that was doing for the good of all the Powers.' He motioned toward Puck, 'Despite what your friend may say, I have no delusions of grandeur. Nor do I wish to rule over the Powers. My only hope was to preserve our legacy after we are long gone.' The hermit sighed painfully at his failure, continuing his tale for Johnny. 'Alas this was when Elton Fate and Death stormed out of the meeting, taking their coins with them.'

'I would have joined Elton,' the nymph grumbled. 'If it wasn't for my oath to the Flower Child.'

The Collector continued breathing deeply, bringing back long forgotten memories, 'Once a coin has left these walls, it passes out of my knowledge.' His gray eyes met Johnny's gray eyes. 'These coins hold the essence of the person, place, or Power they are minted for,' he explained in a stern, gruff voice. Slowly he revealed a silver coin about the size of a half dollar dangling around his neck on a silver chain, inscribed on the coin was the word ordo. 'This coin, is my coin, when I minted it, I placed all my knowledge of minting, history, even the events of my own life within the metal of this coin. When my time is done here, it will be this essence that people will remember.' Slowly he explained, 'But like all great technologies it has the capacity for immense destruction as well. If another person, a person with the urge to rule, the urge to control the World, were to get his or her hands on this coin, he could use my own powers against me. Possibly even usurp me as the Power of Order. This is why the Flower Child and I have summoned you.' All Johnny could do was gasp.

'W-W-What can I do?' Johnny asked, wide- eyed and stuttering.

'For centuries the Death and Disorder coins have been missing Johnny. As the Grey,' the Collector said solemnly, with almost religious reverence, 'you're the meeting of Light and Dark, the Balance of the Four Powers. You're supposed to bring them back.' Johnny suddenly felt a rumbling in the pit of his stomach. He was also a Libra.

His pale face hidden under the gray hood, Johnny sat under the broken column outside the bank. This was all way too much for him. He never asked for this job. He never wished to be summoned by the Light Powers. He didn't want to take part in the feud between Puck and the Collector. He didn't want any of it. He didn't want them to expect anything from him. He just wanted to go home.

He just wanted to see Darius, home from the war, though he knew that would never happen. He just wanted to be with his dad and step mom. He just wanted to be laying in his bed, dreaming about Jessica, the girl he had crushed on since the third grade. He wanted order to be restored to his life, so that he wouldn't have to deal with his mother's drama. He didn't want anything to do with Disorder and Death, but they always came for him.

There was an earth shattering bang as the great wooden doors to the bank slammed shut. Silently, Puck strolled up behind the boy. The nymph crouched down sullenly beside the boy. Despite his dislike for Johnny, he recognized the amount of pressure the Powers had put on him.

Whispering, he said, 'Listen, if it means anything I think you may be able to save us.'

Johnny just stared at the broken concrete. He would focus on the crack and the cracks within the cracks.

Puck sighed. It all seemed too much for him. The feud between the Lighter Powers and the Darker Powers. He was stuck in the middle, he owed the Flower Child his life. Yet at the same time, he had to protect his rogue older brother.

The boy closed his eyes, letting a small, crystal tear drop trickle his cheek. 'What do I do?'

Puck stood up, he knew the answer to this question. 'You learn,' he smiled, for once. 'The Collector only cares about his coins, the Flower Child will reveal to you what is really at stake.'

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