The End of Hatred: Etherya's Earth, #1

Etherya’s Earth Series Order:

Prequel: The Dawn of Peace

Book 1: The End of Hatred

Book 2: The Elusive Sun

Book 3: The Darkness Within

Book 4: The Reluctant Savior

Book 4.5: Immortal Beginnings

Book 5: The Impassioned Choice

Book 5.5: Two Souls United

Book 6: The Cryptic Prophecy

Book 6.5: Garridan’s Mate

Book 7: The Diplomatic Heir

Book 7.5: Sebastian’s Fate

Book 8: The Solitary Protector

Full List Here

A Note from the Author

Thank you for joining me in Etherya’s Earth! I can’t wait for you to take the journey with the characters who inhabit this world. Before you begin, please note that there is a prequel to this series I recommend reading first. It’s called The Dawn of Peace and can be downloaded for free from your retailer’s site or at RebeccaHefner.com.

Wishing you lots of great reading and enjoy your time in Etherya’s Earth!

Download The Dawn of Peace now!

Prologue

The goddess could remember the moment of Creation with great clarity.  One minute, there was nothing, and the next, consciousness.  Breath made of unseen particles filled her insides, and she was alive and whole.  Waking to her experience, she saw the parallel universes as they multiplied and expanded beyond infinity.  Out of the multitudes of universes, she was thrust into her own single galaxy, her own planetary system and, finally, her own solitary world where she would reign supreme in perpetuity.

The goddess Etherya was roused and resolute.

Knowing that she had been given great power, she began to build her planet with care.  Tall, sweeping mountaintops crested with snow, which melted to form powerful rivers that flowed to the valleys.  Luscious green trees filled the atmosphere with oxygen.  Powderpuff clouds absorbed the moisture in the blue atmosphere and returned it to the soil with loving care.

Etherya’s Earth was thriving.

But being a goddess was quite lonely, and she found herself longing for companionship.  She would breathe out long sighs in solitude that whipped the tree branches for hours and caused the waves of the oceans to slap upon the shores.

When she could take no more, she created intelligent life.

With immense concentration, she spawned the Slayera, and they were beautiful.  Gentle, loving creatures with no room in their hearts for hate or conflict.  Etherya blessed them with immortality, and since they had nothing to fear, they were assured to live long lives in the infinity of the Universe.

Or, so Etherya thought.

Shortly after the creation of her beloved species, the Universe made its displeasure known.  Etherya had created a flawless species but she, being imperfect herself, was not allowed to create perfection from imperfection.  This would cause a great imbalance.  Etherya begged and pleaded with the Universe to save the Slayera, and it took pity on her.  She was permitted to create another species of immortal, one that would counterbalance the Slayera.

With her heart full of gratitude, she created the Vampyres: huge, hulking creatures skilled at fighting, combat and strategy.  They were all things that were absent in the Slayera.  At the Universe’s command, she made both species interdependent upon each other.  The Slayera would rely on the Vampyres for protection, and the Vampyres would need to drink Slayera blood to survive.  Although her world was currently peaceful, she now recognized that the Universe could be fickle and volatile.  Since the Slayera were innocent and vulnerable, having the Vampyres’ protection gave her extra peace of mind.

They were two imperfect species living as one.

A yin to the yang.

The Universe also commanded that Etherya let humans exist and evolve on her world.  They had done quite well on another planet, in a far-distant galaxy, and their ingenuity and intelligence would need to be tested in a new environment.  The goddess had no need for humans, which she saw as bumbling and useless, especially in their mortality.  But it was a small price to pay if she could keep her two beautiful species, both created from her womb, and envelop them in the harmony of her exquisite world.

Deamons also evolved, another species of immortal, but they were weak and chose to live in the darkness of their underground caves.  The goddess regarded them as insignificant anomalies, beings that would never bother her precious species.

For thousands of years, the Slayera and the Vampyres coexisted in peace.  Etherya would reward them with blazing sunsets, good harvests and sun-kissed days that turned into long, balmy nights.  She was grateful for the abundance of happiness she felt when she smiled down on her small, precious sphere.

And then, in what was perhaps the blink of an eye in the span of things, all was shattered.

The night of the Awakening had come.

Excerpt from The Ancient Manuscript of the Slayera Soothsayers

Book 3 – The Awakening

Death’s foul stench spread over the green grass of the Vampyre compound of Astaria.

Dense rain fell from the sky to mingle with the tears of few and the blood of many.

Hearts ceased to beat; souls that had lived so carefree were released to the Passage.

Lives of love and laughter perished, leaving behind only carnage and demise.

This was the night of the Awakening.

Our great and powerful King Valktor struck down our enemies, King Markdor and Queen Calla, with the Blade of Pestilence.

Once great allies turned upon us, choosing to call us Slayers instead of our formal name of Slayera.

Our people responded bravely, and the War of the Species began.

The balance of Etherya’s Earth was destroyed.

Etherya was very angry and withdrew her protection from our people, showing her as the false goddess we always knew her to be...

Chapter 1

The Slayer compound of Uteria, 1,000 years after the Awakening...

Miranda rode her stallion to the clearing by the river from where Kenden had radioed her.  She probably should’ve stopped back at the main house and gotten one of the four-wheelers but she had already been riding Majesty and his large, black corpus felt reassuring beneath her.  As she neared the clearing, she softly whispered to him.

Whoa, boy. We’re here.

With a caress of his silky mane, she jumped down and neared the few soldiers who were crowded around her cousin.  Early morning light fingered softly through the clouds, and she could barely see his thick brown locks over the heads of the others.

Kenden, she called softly, what do we have?

The soldiers parted, and her cousin motioned to her with his arm.  As she neared, she huddled down to kneel beside the girl.  Hair, black as a raven’s wing, was down to her waist, wet and curled.  Extremely pale skin covered her face except for the veins in her head, blue and angry.

She’s a Vampyre, Miranda breathed, struggling to keep her composure.  How did she come to be here?

She must’ve fallen in the river and hit her head, Kenden said as he lifted the hair near her nape to show a deep purple bruise along her thin neck.

How is she not dead?  She’s been exposed to the sun.

Kenden shook his head.  I don’t know, but she’s alive.  We have to figure out what to do with her.

Miranda nodded and stood, wiping her hands on her camouflage pants.  Get her to the castle and put her in the room by the gym.  The one with no windows.  No one is to see her, and you are to bind her hands and feet.  Understood?

Kenden nodded, reaching down to pick up the Vampyre. She was large, as all Vampyres were, but he lifted her as if lifting a feather from the ground.  Such was the strength of the cunning Slayer commander.  Do you want to give her blood?

Yes. Miranda’s eyes narrowed.  Have Sadie bring some up from the infirmary.  No one else is to enter her room but you and Sadie.  I want you there with me when she wakes.  Walking up to her cousin, she added in a low voice, And whatever you do, don’t tell Father.  He’ll have a conniption if he knows there’s a Vampyre on the compound.  She may prove to be useful, and I want to question her before he has the chance to kill her.

Kenden nodded and loaded the Vampyre woman into his four-wheeler as the soldiers piled in after him.  Inhaling a deep breath, Miranda walked back to inspect the site where the woman had been found.  The river flowed onto their lands from the main Vampyre compound of Astaria, which was located some forty miles north.  It seemed impossible that she could’ve floated the entire way, but in the land of Etherya, these were strange times and peculiar things happened more and more often lately.

Who are you, Vampyre, and why did you wash up on our shores?  Turning to Majesty, she nuzzled his mane and sighed.  Ready to go, boy? she asked, jumping onto her saddle, which rested firmly on the horse’s back.  It’s time for me to nurse a fucking Vampyre.

Once back at the main house, Miranda did her best to avoid her father until after she had spoken to the Vampyre.  Although she had become more adept at concealing her thoughts over the past centuries, she didn’t want to lie to him unless absolutely necessary.

As she entered her chambers, she pulled the black fleece over her head, throwing it carelessly on the large four-poster bed.  Catching a glimpse of herself in the armoire mirror, she grimaced.  Large, almond-shaped eyes the color of ripe green olives stared back at her, tired and wary.  Straight black hair fell to her shoulders, and her slightly crooked nose bunched up in the reflection as she studied herself.  With her black tank top, camouflaged pants and army boots, she looked more like a soldier than a princess.  As it should be, she thought, giving herself a terse nod in the mirror.

Her mother had been a great beauty.  According to the soothsayers who lived on the outskirts of the compound and told sweeping stories of days long past by the light of the campfires, Rina had been the most majestic creature that had ever lived amongst the Slayers.  Void of vice, pure of spirit and true of heart, she had been a vision of all that was good and perfect for her people.

Rina’s father Valktor, Miranda’s grandfather, had been the first Slayer King, created from the womb of Etherya herself.  He had been a resplendent figure and a magnificent king until his fateful decision to murder his Vampyre counterparts in cold blood.

No one had ever been able to account for Valktor’s actions on the fateful evening of the Awakening.

Some said that he’d grown tired of having his people bank their blood for the Vampyres in exchange for protection and felt that he had the means to raise a strong and competent army himself.

Others proposed that he was looking for an alliance with the humans, and when that failed, he blamed it on the Vampyre King and Queen.

Still, others postulated that he simply went mad.  For, shortly before his murderous rampage, his daughter Rina had been kidnapped by Crimeous, the evil Lord of the Deamons.  Until Rina’s kidnapping, the Deamons had been the most inconspicuous group of immortals, choosing to live in the darkness and recluse of their underground caves.  After her abduction, the Deamons became a serious threat.  The Dark Lord was no longer content to live in the shadows and wanted dominion over all of Etherya’s Earth.

It sure wasn’t a great time for the Slayers, Miranda thought as she headed into the bathroom to give her face a quick wash and brush her teeth.  Her people had transitioned from a peaceful, loving species to a kingdom besieged by war with two powerful foes.  One thing she knew for certain?  If this woman held any importance at the Vampyre compound, she would sure as hell exploit it to her people’s full advantage.

The Slayers had lived in the shadows too long.  Hunted by the Vampyres for their blood, and by the Deamons because of their own sick, twisted pleasure.  Circumstances had to change.

She couldn’t remember much of her grandfather, as she had only been eight years old when he’d perished after his murderous actions.  But when she did reflect back on him, she thought of the valor and strength in his deep green eyes, the same color as her mother’s; as her own.  He had carried himself with the regal carriage of a great leader of a magnificent species, and it was time that she helped her people regain their footing in this world.

No one was going to hand them back their dignity.  She was going to have to grab it from the clenching fists of her worst enemies.  And damned if she wasn’t up to the task.  The time for cowering was over.  Fate had sent them an opportunity in the form of a Vampyre washed up on the riverbank, and Miranda wasn’t going to squander the chance to take the offensive.

With one more look of firm resolve at her reflection, she dried her face, threw the towel down on the bathroom counter and exited her chamber with a renewed sense of purpose.

Arderin slowly came into consciousness with the knowledge that someone was nailing a hundred tiny screws into her brain.  Any other option was unimaginable due to the splitting pain she encountered as she tried to suck in a breath.  Finding that nearly impossible, she attempted to lift her hand to her throbbing head but realized, after a brief struggle, that she was restrained.  Slowly, she lifted her lids.

As the room came into focus, she could see that she was on a large bed with four wooden posts at each corner.  The room was dark, save for the dim light on the bedside table, and her feet and hands were bound with thick ropes, one to each bedpost.  She was still wearing her dark blue dress from the party they’d been having in honor of Lila’s birthday.  She tried to piece together how she’d ended up in this strange place.

She remembered drinking a bit too much.  Sathan had approached her and told her that she shouldn’t have any more wine.  Her oldest brother was quite protective of her.  Although she loved him dearly, it sometimes infuriated her, causing her to overreact.  She had spouted some diatribe to him about how she was her own woman and he couldn’t tell her what to do.  Then, she had left the party to go outside and get some air under the light of the full moon.

The last thing she could remember was standing by her favorite spot at the riverbed, in the shadow of the thick oak tree, wishing the gurgling water could take her anywhere but Astaria, which sometimes felt like a prison.  Looking up at the stars, she had begged Etherya to take her away...somewhere...anywhere but there.

And then, she’d heard a rustling in the nearby bushes...hadn’t she?  Perhaps a beaver or a mole.  And then—

Darkness.

Struggling to remember, she tried to sit up straighter, which was quite unfeasible due to her bound limbs.

Her head snapped toward the door as it opened, and two people, a man and a woman, entered.  Slayers, she thought ruefully.  The situation had just gone from bad to worse.  She was being held captive by her people’s sworn enemies.

Who are you? she demanded, wishing that her voice wasn’t so shaky.  Release me at once!  You have no idea how powerful the people are who are looking for me!

The female Slayer walked toward the side of her bed and studied her.  We were hoping that was the case, she said, her eyes roaming over Arderin’s form, most likely to make sure her bonds were still tight.  What is your name?

Arderin kept silent, trying to determine what course of action was best.  If she told them that she was the Vampyre princess, sister to the Vampyre King Sathan, she could become a powerful bargaining chip for blackmail.  If she lied and told them she was no one, a commoner, then they might judge her as dispensable and kill her.

I see you contemplating your options, Vampyre, and while I admire your spirit, it will do no good to lie to us.  We will find out eventually who you are and will employ every means necessary to obtain the information.

Fear snaked around her heart, writhing and coiling, and she found herself wishing this were all a bad dream.  How many times had Sathan warned her that her rebellious streak was going to eventually create a situation that he couldn’t save her from?  Looking to the ceiling, she made a silent promise to Etherya.  She would never argue with Sathan again. Hell, she would tell him a hundred times over that he had been right and she had been wrong...if the goddess would be kind and spare her life.

Praying to your goddess will do you no good here.  Etherya abandoned our people after the night of the Awakening, and we consider her a false prophet.  Appealing to her will only anger us more.

You know nothing of Etherya, Arderin spat, enraged at the denigration of the goddess whom her people held dear.  She abandoned you because your people are sniveling weaklings who were only put on this Earth to be our food!

The Slayer fisted a large mass of Arderin’s hair in her hand, exacerbating the pounding that already existed there, and lowered her face so that their noses almost touched.  Antagonizing me isn’t going to help you.  Now, tell me your name and your station at Astaria.

Arderin studied the woman through her pain.  How did she know that she hailed from the compound at Astaria?  Was she bluffing?  The Slayer woman’s eyes were the deepest green she’d ever seen, and her hair was as black as her own, although it sat in a straight cut that fell to her shoulders, unlike Arderin’s waist-long, curly tresses.  Upon further reflection, she realized that the woman looked much like the Slayer Princess Rina, whom she had studied in her childhood when she was learning the history of the realm.

You’re Miranda, the Slayer princess, Arderin said, her voice tinged with a bit of wonder and a slice of fear.  "If you think I’m going to tell you anything, you are sorely mistaken.  I would rather die than help you.  Go ahead and torture me or kill me, or whatever other plan you have, because I swear to the goddess, I’ll never talk!"

The Slayer sighed and rolled her eyes, releasing her death-grip on Arderin’s hair.  Good grief, are all Vampyres so dramatic?  Looking to the male Slayer in the room, she said sarcastically, "Remind me to brush up on Days of Our Lives this week so I can deal with Susan Lucci over here."  The chestnut-haired male Slayer stood immobile, arms crossed over his chest, except for the slight lift of the corners of his lips.

Look, she said, turning back to Arderin, regardless of what you think, I have no desire to kill an innocent woman, even if she is of an inferior race. Arderin felt her nostrils flare with fury.  However, I will torture or even kill you if you don’t give me what I want, so you have three hours to decide.  After that, no more Ms. Nice Slayer, okay?

When Arderin didn’t answer her or even nod, the Slayer continued.  I’m guessing you understand me even though you’re not answering.  Our house doctor, Sadie, will be in later with some blood for you to drink from our infirmary.  She’s a hell of a lot nicer than me, so I expect you to be kind to her.  Understood?

Shaking her head at Arderin’s lack of response, the Slayer turned to leave.  You have three hours, Vampyre.  Think hard about how important living beyond tomorrow is to you.  See you soon.

Arderin watched the Slayer exit the room, her male counterpart following behind.  The door closed with a firm thud.  Closing her eyes, she let the emotions swarm her, the pain overtake her, and allowed herself to cry.

The Vampyre Compound of Astaria

Something was very wrong.  Sathan knew this in his gut even though he had no proof.  After ruling his kingdom for a thousand years, he had learned to listen to the voice in his head.  Instinct was something to be treasured, especially in these dark times, and it now had him coiled in its dark web.

Arderin was missing.

After she blew up at him, she had stormed out of the castle.  Frustration allowed him to let her go, realizing she needed to calm herself.  She would’ve headed to the riverbank, her favorite patch of vibrant green grass under the oak tree beckoning to her.  He had watched her stew in that spot many times after arguments, albeit from afar and without her knowledge.  When they argued, he always felt terrible, promising himself he would be more patient with her next time.

His sister was a frustrating creature.  The epitome of his beautiful mother, who had been slain before his eyes when he was only ten years old.  He had never forgiven himself for what happened that day.  Had he only stepped in, only pulled out the knife from his belt, all would be different.  But he had stayed silent, frozen with fear.  His inability to save her was his greatest failure.

He had vowed from that day forward to avenge his mother, his father and his people.  Even at the tender age of ten, he knew that he would be the sworn protector of the realm.  His need to protect his sister consumed him.  As she grew into a woman and went through her immortal change in her twenties, she began to look more and more like Calla.  Ensuring that she lived a full and happy life was his vow.  He would protect her as he hadn’t been able to protect his mother.  He realized that this angered her and sometimes stopped her from seeing how desperately he loved her.  Family was sacred, and he knew that his two brothers, Latimus and Heden, agreed.

Looking out the window of the king’s royal office chamber, he could no longer ignore the anxiety that swirled deep within.

No sign of her, Latimus said, his voice brisk as he rounded the corner of the entrance to the large room.  We have to send out a search party.

Yes, Sathan said with a nod.  Turning to Latimus, he sighed deeply.  I should’ve never engaged with her last night.  She was having fun, and I was embarrassed that she had been drinking so much—

Regret is a waste of time, Latimus interrupted.  His brother, less than two years younger than he, was known for his terseness and lack of giving a damn about politeness or courtesy.  He was a man of few words and even fewer emotions.  As the commander of the vast Vampyre army, Latimus was a warrior first and always.  Pleasantries had no place in his world of war and strategy.

I know, Sathan said, rounding the large mahogany desk to stand in front of his brother.  Of all the siblings, Latimus favored Arderin the most.  They shared the same raven-black hair, angular features, ice-blue eyes and long, thick eyelashes.  Sathan had made fun of Latimus’s eyelashes once when they were teens, comparing them to a girl’s.  His brother had proceeded to bash his face in, and although Sathan put up a good fight, it had been a losing one.  He’d never picked on his brother’s appearance again, that was for damn sure.

Such was the way of brothers.  Although he and Latimus both had alpha personalities, dominant and domineering, they had an unbreakable respect for each other as men, soldiers and brothers.  In a dire situation, he could think of no better ally than Latimus.

Let’s mobilize a search party within a fifty-mile radius.  I’m sure she went to the river to stew after we argued.  The dogs should be able to find her scent there.

Latimus nodded.  We’ll find her.  His boot steps sounded under his six-foot-nine-inch frame as he exited.

Sathan ran his hands over his face, his heart clenched with fear.  Damn it, Arderin, where the hell are you?

Silence was the only answer from the empty room.

Excerpt from The Ancient Manuscript of the Slayera Soothsayers

Book 4 – The Blade of Pestilence

Our powerful lord and protector, King Valktor, used the Blade of Pestilence to strike down the evil King Markdor and Queen Calla at the Awakening.

Afterward, he traveled to the Cave of the Sacred Prophecy.

The Blade had been fashioned from poisoned steel so that the Vampyres’ self-healing abilities could not save them from its wrath.

Inside the Cave, our King drilled into a large rock and placed the Blade inside.

Using his omniscient power, he placed a spell on the Blade.

It could only be excised if lubricated simultaneously by the combined blood of the first-born of a generation of his lineage and the first-born of a generation of Markdor’s lineage.

The combined blood must fall straight from both first-borns’ veins.

And so, with the War of the Species, the Blade is destined to sit still and unused for eternity...

Chapter 2

Arderin woke with a start and rubbed her tongue to the roof of her dry mouth.  It tasted like sandpaper and salt.  Thirst consumed her, and she wondered how long she’d been captive.  Twenty-four hours?  Forty-eight?  Too much longer and she would be at risk of falling unconscious due to lack of Slayer blood.

She struggled against her binds, and a soft voice came from beyond the foot of the bed.  Oh, no, no, please, don’t struggle, the tiny Slayer said quietly as she approached Arderin on her right side.  It will drain your strength, and the binds are so tight it’s a waste of your energy.  Here, drink this.

The Slayer lifted a metal cup to Arderin’s lips, full of life-sustaining blood.  Swallowing heartily, she licked her lips when finished.  Thank you.  You must be Sadie.  The Slayer bitch said you’d be nice to me.

So, yeah, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.  Blasphemy against our princess is a capital offense leading to severe punishment.  She went back to the table at the foot of the bed and continued rummaging around.  Arderin couldn’t see much in the darkened room, so she listened to the Slayer’s movements for any sort of clue on how to escape.

I can’t see your face, Arderin said.

The Slayer’s motions ceased as the room grew quiet.  Slowly, she approached the bedside again.  Do you want more? she asked, her face obstructed by the hoodie she wore.  Arderin could only make out the tip of her tiny nose and the shadow of thin lips.

She shook her head, unable to fathom drinking any more blood right now, as her stomach was queasy.  Do you hide your face on purpose?

The Slayer returned to the foot of the bed, and the clink of the cup could be heard as she set it down.  I took a blood sample from you, she said softly.  As part of my Hippocratic oath, I feel compelled to tell you that.  A patient shouldn’t be tested without their knowledge.

Walking back over to the bed, the Slayer rested her palm against Arderin’s forehead.  Due to your self-healing abilities, the cut on your neck is completely healed and you don’t have a fever.  Miranda will be able to tell by the purity of your blood how old your lineage is.  If you are an aristocrat, I would tell her before the results come in.  She is determined to use you, but I think you misunderstand her intentions.

Resting her hip on the side of the bed, she bit her lip with white teeth barely visible under the hood.  Arderin got the sense she was choosing her words very carefully.

I don’t want to overstep, but our princess has become very progressive lately, diverging from her father, our king, on many matters to do with Vampyres.  She is a kind-hearted leader looking to find a way to regain her people’s freedom from persecution.  Sometimes, one’s greatest foe can become a great conspirator if they find a shared interest.

The Slayer rose from the bed.  Think about it.

Wait, Arderin said, reaching for the Slayer but coming up short due to her bindings.  You are a trained doctor?

Yes.

Where did you train?

I have trained with the humans in several specialties over many centuries.  My small stature allows me to blend in with them quite nicely.

Arderin nodded.  I would like to train to become a physician one day as well.  My family has a hard time understanding this because Vampyres have self-healing abilities, but I’ve always believed that knowledge can be used in many circumstances if one only chooses to look.

The Slayer might have smiled under the hood but Arderin couldn’t be sure.  It is a noble profession and one that has brought me great joy.  I don’t have much in my life and being able to heal has given me a purpose.

Is this why you conceal your face?

The Slayer sighed and lifted her hands to the hood.  Slowly, she eased the fabric from her head, and Arderin gasped.  The woman’s entire right side was burned to a mangled pulp.  Grafts upon grafts of skin were layered together in a puzzle whose pieces would never fit.  Saying that her appearance was grotesque would be putting it mildly.

I was burned in the Purges of Methesda when I was young, she said, her tone sad.  There was nothing anyone could do.

In the dim light of the room, Arderin could see that the left half of her body appeared completely normal.  She had pretty, light hazel eyes and short, chestnut brown hair, although it only covered one half of her head.

I know someone who could help you.

The Slayer’s expression lit with a brief flash of hope that was extinguished just as quickly.  I’ve visited the best human burn centers on the earth and no one can help me.  But thank you all the same.  I have learned to live with my scars and understand that my life was meant to be spent helping other people.

Even in her distressed state, kidnapped and bound, Arderin felt sorry for this woman.  She reminded her of the wounded birds she sometimes found by the river.  She would do her best to nurse them back to health, but even when their wings were repaired, their spirits never regained the will to fly.

I know someone who has more knowledge than any human doctor—

You’re very kind, Sadie interrupted.  Please, show some of that kindness to our princess.  She is very interested in saving our people, and if she feels that you can help her do this, she will be amenable to getting you home safely.  Good luck.

With that statement of finality, the Slayer lifted her hood back over her head and turned to leave the room.

Arderin’s thoughts began to churn, and for the first time since her abduction, she felt a surge of hope.  She was going to find a way to ingratiate herself to the Slayer princess bitch and get the hell out of this mess.

Miranda exhaled in short, quick breaths as she neared the end of her workout.  James Hetfield beckoned her to take his hand off to never-neverland and sleep with one eye open.  Good advice.  Humans were pretty useless in the broad scheme of things but they sure knew