Mugen: Infinite Negative  (A Circles of Time tale)
Rated R


THE DARKNESS: 


     I want to know if the peace built upon sacrifice 
     is truly just...For that, I will become evil.

                         -Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz



     Magik is arbitrary. Black, white, grey: colour is irrelevant.
Magik knows no love or enmity, no fear or honour. It only knows
itself, that which is magik. The user determines the shape the
magik shall take when it is manifested. It is the user who can
create or destroy. Magik cannot differentiate, cannot be blamed.
The soul is what moves magik, be it a black heart of cold stone, or
a fragile heart of beauty and truth. 
     One day all this knowledge, this magik, shall fade, and be
forgotten, become just a legend spoken to little children at
bedtime. Magik shall become magic, and shall be given colours. Only
a handful of souls will ever remember such a time as this, when
magik was the life and breath of the Earthworld and its solar
system.
     Time passes, as it always has and always shall forever, ending
yet neverending in the boundary that marks eternity. And with time
comes change: of worlds, of faces, of legends and myths. Time does
indeed change. But the magik shall always remain the same, and stay
with us until eternity itself comes to an end.
     You can try to forget the magik, but it shall never forget
you. If you were once destined to wield it, you shall wield it once
more. Black, white, grey; it does not matter.
     I am His lordship Chaos. 
     One of many writers who have come together to craft an epic
spanning the millennia and legends of a world first created by
Naoko Takeuchi. The Senshi are her children, the original tale hers
to tell. But the other tales and other souls we have drawn into
this place belong to those who have created Circles of Time. Naoko
has her children, as do I have mine. I, as do all the other writers
of this epic, ask for your permission should you wish for our
children to enter another realm.
     But for now, let the eternal night fall as silence swallows up
the brilliant light of the future. 
     Listen to the tale I have to tell you.
     For time is of the essence....


               -His lordship Chaos (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)
                  http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/9897/ct.htm


     The faded and gutted halls of Ilsa Esylin were silent in
watching the dying magik of Aurora. Night had fallen upon the
Earth, and the darkness was now threatened with incredible rippling
lights that covered the skies. Beautiful in design, elegant in
spectacle, and perhaps even romantic in gesture, the Aurora
Borealis remained one last display of a planet's incredible magik.
     Yet as she gazed upon the dancing lights, a different kind of
exhilaration was coursing through her body. The distant explosion
in the skies not so long before this had marked the end of Aurora.
     Morgana smiled to herself.
     In a way, that had proven to be useful on two counts. Her
messiah had been found, and at the very least demonstrated a
devastating magik; with this woman leading her armies, the fear
alone would make her unstoppable. And at the same time, Aurora and
all its mages and samurai would have become her greatest obstacle.
How fitting that now they were gone.
     Sapphire eyes gazed at the ruins of Ilsa Esylin. Death and
stagnation were all around her...and amidst it was a strange sort
of beauty. All was quiet save for the distant roar of the waves
which surrounded this island castle. Here in her own little empire
she was queen.
     Soon Ilsa Esylin would no longer be her home.
     Camelot....
     Her future lied there with the city of the Pendragon.
     She walked between rows of broken columns without a roof to
support. Some were missing, others cleaved in half or else toppled
over. The pathway before her was clear, and so she continued to
walk.
     Moonlight filtered through the Aurora Borealis.
     But this light slowly disappeared as shadows overtook her
every step, converging in every place where something should have
been visible beneath the stars. Ilsa Esylin's ruins sank into her
Shadowspell, and the emptiness of the fallen castle became her
domain.
     Her realm.
     The stone caverns, exquisitely carved and towering high over
her head, replaced the crumbling walls and broken stairways. Twin
moons became her source of light rather than the lights dancing
about the skies. And she could clearly hear the sound of rushing
water flow past her, above her, below her. The waterfalls were
everywhere; aqueducts carved into the rocks were only part of the
design, as thin rivers of water moved through the very air itself.
     A caduceus slowly appeared in her grip, the ancient sceptre's
diamond sparkling in the faint light of this world. Morgana held
the caduceus before her eyes, gazing into the facets of the
gemstone.
     This dark messiah...Morgana could sense this woman drawing
closer to this planet. Very soon the one who called herself
Mistress Nine would appear. And then the true conquest of Earth
could begin. She would cleanse it of all uncertainties, release it
of all doubts. The petty bickering between peoples and planets
would end under her power. She would become the law, absolute and
infinite.
     She was the Solis System's future.
     And it was beautiful.
     The shadows watch her, edges of darkness billowing out and
fluttering. And at amidst its heart of darkness, something shifted
in the blackened realms behind her. Magik rustled, quietly but
demanding immediate attention regardless.
     "Patience," Morgana soothed, not even turning around to watch
the shifting shadows. "Everything is falling into place just as
I've designed it to. Once Mistress Nine comes to Earth, I will take
control of Arthur's empire...and then you can be released."
     The shadows seemed displeased.
     They demanded a response to a question.
     A scowl marred Morgana's face. The ones she had sent after
Magellan and that Venusian girl had failed, just as her Caltain had
failed in retrieving the one whose soul bore that incredible magik.
So many unexpected failures, smaller in scope yet giving her reason
to seethe.
     It appeared as if the power she had acquired, this dark magik
she had been given, was not as potent as once thought. If not that,
then she was underestimating some of her opponents.
     Truth was Morgana remained uncertain as to why she had been
instructed to attack that Venusian girl's shuttle, and then once
more while the child was in Vlatmere province. It made no
sense...to her at least. Her master, the one within the shadows,
however, was most specific about ending that girl's life.
     No matter; in time this girl would either bow to her powers,
or else die like the others.
     However, while she had patience, her master did not.
     Empress Metalia was eager to enter this world, one way or
another....


               MUGEN (-ì) INFINITE NEGATIVE

                 (A Circles of Time tale)


     Just as a world brims with its variety of life, a story can
never be centered on one place for very long without the need to
reveal another realm standing alongside it. It is a tapestry,
threads intersecting and destinies colliding. So in journeying to
the realm of light and life, one must also return to the darkness
that is death.
     Aurora.
     A once rich and beautiful world.
     Now gone.
     And here she laid among its remains, her body sprawled out
across one of the ragged chunks of rock now floating through the
darkness of space. Tresses of long emerald-dark hair draped itself
over her back as her eyes fluttered open. Magenta orbs focused on
the lifelessness around her.
     The guardress of time stood.
     Setsuna slowly turned, picking up the key-shaped staff that
had been laying next to her when she awoke. The shard of stone she
found herself upon was drifting, rotating until she found herself
at an angle which by all rights should have had her floating off.
But gravity was no longer applicable to this place.
     A void within space.
     "How...how can I be breathing?" she whispered. Magenta eyes
widened. "Masaka!"
     Time had been stopped.
     Chiming rings echoed across a vacuum which should have allowed
no sound to penetrate. A brief metallic chord reached her ears.
Setsuna let the rock continue its rotation until she felt that she
was at last rightside-up. 
     She turned her head to the one she knew to be lurking here
somewhere. And from another piece of lifeless rock, the Raithe was
quietly watching her. 
     Both of them should have been dead.
     The magik of Death Reborn Revolution had consumed Aurora
entirely. First the Silence had swept across the face of the
planet, annihilating everything it touched. People and palaces were
blown apart like leaves as the hellish onslaught made its course
across the surface. The Silence collided with itself at the
southern pole, detonating into a pillar of pure destructive magik
that tore through the very core of Aurora. It burst through the
northern pole, ripping apart the planet from inside out.
     Nothing could have held this world together.
     And Aurora had exploded into millions of fragments of rock.
     "You...." she whispered, not daring to have her voice become
any louder. Any more volume and it would have been a vicious hiss.
     Eyes of the midnight skies never faltered, an even stare
taking in every image of betrayal that shone through her face. The
bitterness in her quivering lips. The tears brimming at the edges
of her trembling eyes. The pale colour to her otherwise tanned
skin.
     And yet all he did was watch, motionless.
     A spectre amidst it all.
     The Raithe pivoted, making a sweeping gesture with his
shakujyo. Its garnet orb flickered to life, a windfall of magik
escaping the crystal sphere atop his staff. Shades of grey faded to
reveal colours. The darkness was alive, sparkling lights all around
her in the aftermath of annihilation. The black rock became earthen
mud, and she could see the texture that had once existed at the
heart of Aurora's core. Rays from the distant sun were scattered,
most of the golden warmth lost by the immense debris field all
around them, blocking out the light.
     Setsuna pushed off the rock she was upon, floating through
space, and slowly if not gracefully twisting her body so that she
could land upon the piece of earth where the Raithe stood. In the
vacuum, despite time having been stopped for the most part, rapid
actions were slowed down to elegantly delayed motions.
     Nothing was said between them.
     He opened his hand.
     Inside was a flower, dripping in shadowy hues, a curving stem
adorned in thorns. Petals of darkest night opened up, blossoming to
reveal a flower that should never have been. Seconds later a wind
swept past the two of them, tearing the petals from the fragile
blossom.
     A black rose.
     "Sacrifice is a part of duty," the Raithe stated. "Aurora's
destruction had to occur, or else the continuum would have been
torn apart--by the very paradox you created in sending Hotaru
here."
     The silence was shattered.
     Whatever solitude was held between them in mourning for the
fallen planet was lost.
     Setsuna's grip on her time staff tightened. "Their deaths
meant nothing to you," she stated angrily. "You watched with a
distant expression, as if their pain never existed. You're watching
me with that same face even now."
     "I have had centuries to build up a thick skin," the Raithe
replied. "I do what needs to be done; it is my duty to help create
the future that will be, no matter what the cost."
     "What about the lives of others?" she shot back. "What about
your own life?"
     The Raithe's eyes narrowed. Something that might have been a
growl escaped his lips, a glare from his eyes causing her to step
back. "You would be wise to watch what you say, Setsuna. Guarding
time is a duty you still have much to learn about. In the heat of
this moment, I will let your rude words pass." 
     She had managed to strike a nerve.
     That almost surprised her.
     But it didn't end the pain and frustration that was within
her. So many of those on Aurora she had talked with, walked
alongside, even shared quiet moments with. And now it was gone,
torn from her by a cruel twist of fate.
     She couldn't hold it back.
     And now all her anger had found a focus: him.
     With an enraged cry she swung the time staff over her head,
smashing it down upon the Raithe. His shakujyo was already raised
to counter her attack. She didn't relent, trying to forcibly have
him lower his defenses.
     "You brought Mistress Nine into being!" she exclaimed,
towering over him, the tears no longer able to be held back. They
flowed down her cheeks. Fell from her chin onto his face. "It's all
because of you that they died!"
     "Don't get sanctimonious with me!" the Raithe snapped,
wrestling to keep her at bay. "I know what duty means. I have been
following it through for centuries upon centuries before you were
even conceived. What I have done was done for the sake of the
future, for a dream you yourself once lived in!"
     He suddenly pushed her back, both of them putting distance
between the other. She shook her head, unwilling to let the Raithe
justify his actions. The future could be created without such a
loss of life. It was all she had left to believe in now, as she
stood amidst the remains of Aurora.
     Magenta eyes closed. Her own garnet orb started to glow as her
magik began to manifest. The key-shaped staff was raised, aimed
directly at the Raithe. Her attack came in but a whisper:
     "Dead Scream."
     The blast of light filled the waste-laden heavens, engulfing
them both. And then it was suddenly cut in half, the Raithe's
shakujyo ripping her magik in two. He landed right in front of her.
     Both of them were panting, gasping for air.
     Neither one moved.
     "I cannot make amends for what has already come to pass,
Setsuna," he said. "You know just as I that the past cannot be
changed. Call it what you wish: destiny, fate, kismet. It is our
duty to be both its instigators and its slaves. She can be a cruel
mistress sometimes, Setsuna, but it will not change the fact that
we now find ourselves in an asteroid belt where Aurora once was."
     "We should be dead," she stated. "Hotaru as well. Death Reborn
Revolution should have killed her in the process."
     The Raithe shook his head. "That fatal magik would end the
life of the invoker if she were Sailor Saturn. Mistress Nine is not
a Sailor Senshi; the daemon energy inside of her is feeding her
magik, renewing her demonic life."
     "But that means she could use it again."
     "True...but she won't. Aurora was just venting off steam;
Earth is her true target, one that she has little intention of
destroying."
     Setsuna gravely watched the cosmos above and beyond what her
eyes could see. She knew well enough what the Raithe meant.
"Pharaoh Ninety. She's going to try and bring the alien entity to
our solar system. All because you had to show it the way here."
     He looked to the vast shards of rock floating all around,
above and beneath them. One day perhaps, a queen would establish a
quartet of soldiers to guard over this place. A memorial for the
souls who had perished here in a war that existed only for the sake
of a future yet to be discovered.
     "Believe me when I tell you that this was the only way to stop
the paradox," he said, his voice in but a whisper.
     "How can I trust you after what you have done?" she asked. 
     The Raithe turned to stare at her, his midnight eyes betraying
something about the cool demeanor he usually showed. Perhaps his
humanity. "You don't. You can't. But the war has only just begun,
Setsuna. Nothing ever truly ends. And nothing ever truly dies so
long as time continues to move full circle." 
     The tears had stopped flowing.
     Her own grief and anger had subsided for now.
     Setsuna let her gaze sweep across the vast desolation of
Aurora. A large fragment of rock leisurely spun through the empty
space over their heads, momentarily eclipsing the starlights and
forcing them to dwell in darkness. "Hotaru...iie, Mistress Nine was
able to do this to a planet. The rest of the solar system doesn't
stand a chance against the Messiah of Silence."
     The Raithe's eyes closed. "Then your future is already lost."
     She turned to him, frustration more than anything else rising
in her expression. Every time with him it was like this; despite
even Aurora's destruction, he continued to play with these cryptic
games. "What is there that I can do, that any of us can do?" she
demanded.
     His eyes slowly opened, watching her. 
     Studying her.
     Appraising her as if to see whether she could truly be the
guardress of time. "Mistress Nine will not destroy another planet,"
he said. "I've seen to that. However, there is a greater power she
now seeks as the Messiah of Silence. And if she claims this magik
as her own, then what has happened to Aurora will pale in
comparison to what she does next."
     Winds unseen yet very much felt blew past them. The pleated
folds of her sailor fuku danced around her waist, and the long
edges of his raven-dark robes billowed out before him. They stood
at a new edge of heaven, on the crossroads of a new destiny being
forged.
     The Raithe leaned on his shakujyo. "I have almost fulfilled my
own duties, followed through with my own choices. My actions have
set this in motion, and only your actions will let it come to a
close. Setsuna, if you indeed wish for Crystal Tokyo to appear,
then you must go to Earth. The future--yours and everyone else's--
is waiting for you there."
     He straightened, moved ever so much closer to the precipice
where lifeless rock became darkest space. Midnight eyes reflected
the midnight heavens, and for a moment he was respectfully silent.
Though out of respect for what she remained uncertain.
     "You are never truly alone in your journeys, Setsuna," he
said. "Very soon others like you will come to Earth, to fight for
the future. I have already ensured they hold the magik and the
Talismans necessary to continue the battle against the Dark
Messiah."
     Her eyes widened, already understanding his hidden words. "The
Outer Senshi," she said. 
     The Raithe nodded. "Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune will need
your guidance if they are to help locate the Holy Grail. Only with
the Grail's powers can you find the one soul destined to stop
Mistress Nine, and restore peace to this solar system."
     Holy...Grail.
     It was a word that seemed vaguely familiar in her distant
memories, echoing of a lesson or a life once lived. But while she
could only guess at its origins, what she felt within determined
how pressing the urgency was to find this chalice. 
     "You will find your own battles to fight, but I cannot give to
you what you have already made for yourself," the Raithe said
further, motioning to her key-shaped staff. "Besides, Uranus and
Neptune's Talismans are items that Dante was able to forge with his
magik. The garnet orb in your staff is not a weapon or a
Talisman...but a key."
     She gave him a puzzled look.
     And it seemed to amuse him, the way a teacher is amused by the
confusion of a student learning the ways of the world. The Raithe
smiled, raising his shakujyo towards her.
     Abruptly the garnet orb atop his staff started to sing,
chiming a strange yet beautiful melody that she recognized. The
song he had once played on the ringed piano. His crystal glowed in
singing this magik.
     And then the garnet orb atop her own key-shaped staff echoed
a reply. Setsuna leaned back, letting the garnet orb create a
melody that matched the one sung by the Raithe's.
     Both crystals were synchronizing with each other.
     Both crystals were of the same magik.
     She stared at the Raithe, unable to conceal the surprise on
her face. "Masaka," she whispered.
     Suddenly the orbs exploded in a fierce light, swallowing them
both up. Setsuna shielded her eyes as she felt the magik stealing
her away from the graveyard of Aurora. But before she was engulfed
entirely, she saw the Raithe's enigmatic smile directed towards
her.
     And then he was gone.


     It was still dark out beneath the skies of Neptune.
     Starlight was caught by the glassy surface of the near-eternal
oceans, rippling with the movements of the water. The midnight
tides were receding, waves gently splashing against the beach
shores of the surface city still occupied by Uranus' forces. No one
but the usual guards were up at this hour; no one had reason to be.
     However, a reason quickly gave itself life.
     Arthur squinted his copper eyes as the door to his chambers
was opened. A hand went in front of his face, the shadow cast over
his eyes easing the strain from such exposure. The Golden Empire's
king dug his way out of the blankets, blinking wearily at the
silhouette standing before him. 
     "What is it?" he asked groggily, pushing aside a stray thin
braid of his greying blonde hair.
     "Milord," the one in the doorway stated. "I didn't wish to
intrude on your rest...but this is urgent."
     It was Lancelot.
     Arthur groaned, pulling himself even further out of bed. He
ruefully asked himself what quandary the Neptuni and Uranian
delegations had gotten arguing over now. 
     No rest for the wicked.
     "Go ahead, Lancelot," he sighed, slipping his coin-sized
lenses over the bridge of his nose. 
     The Knight Commander uneasily looked around the room, as if
refusing to step inside. Whatever he had to say, he didn't want to
at all, let alone accept what the message itself offered. "We just
received an emergency distress from the 'Dragon's Eye,'" Lancelot
said finally, grimly. 
     Arthur searched his memory for the name of the interstellar
vessel. One of Earth's finest battleships, probably the sole one
that could even hope to compete with anything Uranus' military
created. Some the soldiers who had cut their teeth under his
command during the wars which preceded the Golden Empire's
formation were posted as the bridge crew on that ship.
     Lancelot glanced around the room, not staring at anything. His
throat was tense, his very expression unwilling to believe what was
on his mind.
     "Lancelot," Arthur pressed. "What did The Dragon's Eye
report?"
     "The ship was orbiting Aurora, overseeing a trade convoy bound
for Pluto. Halfway through, the transmission was abruptly cut off.
We haven't been able to regain contact with them since. We haven't
been able to regain contact with any ship from this system that was
orbiting or docking on Aurora."
     The king slowly rose from his bed, tossing the covers behind
him. Already he could read the signs of war. But Aurora? Of all the
places in the Solis System, that planet would have been the least
of all places for battle to erupt. The idea that Aurora itself
might have declared war on the other planets was absurd.
     Something wasn't right.
     "A passing merchantship from Jupiter managed to contact us a
few minutes ago," Lancelot continued. "It had sustained heavy
damage from an unexplained energy wave, its origins coming from
Aurora's orbit. Soon afterwards the ship confirmed beyond a shadow
of a doubt...that Aurora itself was destroyed."
     Arthur's expression was one of pure shock, his thoughts and
senses reeling from the implications behind the words. "D-
Destroyed?" he asked, unable to completely believe the words.
     The Knight Commander nodded. "It was blown apart, inside out,
reduced to nothing more than asteroids floating in space. Anything
that was in close orbit was taken out by the shockwave. I have some
reports from Earth detailing the residual light of the explosion.
It's being called the Aurora Borealis."
     But those words were falling on deaf ears.
     Aurora's destruction was still failing to fully register
within the king's mind. He stumbled backwards, collapsing onto the
edge of his bed, horrified by the visions his imagination conjured
up. Of the vibrant life being snuffed out.
     "Rivend...." he whispered hoarsely.
     "I'm sorry," Lancelot said, trying to sound as gentle as
possible. Yet the news itself could not be delivered without
sounding morbid or callous. They were far from the devastation,
would never have noticed it save for the emergency communications
the dozens of disabled ships in the area were sending out.
     "How many?" 
     Arthur's voice was quiet. Not subdued, and not mournful.
     Just quiet, hushed and in whispers. 
     Lancelot looked up at the elegant ceiling, beautiful Neptuni
murals painted upon them. Of mermaids and beautiful ocean palaces,
of a creature they called the Suravi'ka. Everything seemed real,
dancing over their heads and enticing them to join in the joys of
life this planet had to offer.
     "Everyone," he answered.
     Faded copper eyes closed, a deep breath being sucked into
Arthur's lungs. It was better that he said nothing; what could one
possibly say to the shine of millions of lives suddenly and
savagely being extinguished?
     So many questions amidst the grief. 
     How could this have happened? 
     What had the power to annihilate an entire planet?
     Lancelot turned away, pausing as he placed a hand on the
doorpost. "I'll be waiting outside."
     The Knight Commander left, the door sliding shut behind him.
And leaving Arthur alone in the dark to gather his thoughts and
fears.


     Her eyes fluttered open.
     It was strange to think that a dreamless sleep would be so
welcome. 
     The room was dark despite the morning light trying to creep
through the screens. One of the sliding doors was left half-open;
the hallway beyond it seemed as dark as her room. Crystal blue
focused on the shadows, on her solitude. Her Elven prince was not
in the chambers; this was the first time she had been alone. Alone
with her thoughts and emotions, alone with her dreams and fears.
     Her soul...and her magik.
     Something was causing her nerves to tingle as she awoke. It
was unlike the Elven magik she felt long after Kakkyou would kiss
her. This radiated out from her heart and soul. It was a part of
her, like being in front of a warm fire on a cold winter's night.
A shining glimmer in the darkness.
     Tresses of long blonde hair shimmered in the glow of the two
enchanted candles placed within her room, enfolding her in a soft
and golden bed all its own. She lifted her head, sat up from
beneath the covers. Her hair trailed down over her shoulders. One
of her hands reached up and traced its way down the flow of blonde
hair, from the base of her neck down to where it all cascaded into
a golden pool in her lap.
     "What is happening to me?" she asked quietly.
     There was no response.
     She didn't expect there to be one.
     Both Kakkyou and Halefyne were at a loss to explain the
nightmares she suffered whenever she slept, unable to protect her
within those haunted dreams. Those violet eyes still taunted her
whenever she gazed into a shadow, that savage blade causing her to
jump whenever she heard the wind cut through the air.
     And now there had been a new vision.
     One that gave answers yet left so many new questions
unanswered. She had seen that innocent girl with the ravendark hair
cut down by the one calling herself Mistress Nine. It was that
woman, beautiful and deadly all in one alluring face, who commanded
the blade she recognized, whose eyes she saw chasing after her.
That glaive had been stained with the raven-haired girl's blood.
     She had screamed, cried out, begged the harbinger woman to
stop. But that had done nothing except feed the woman's lust for
destruction. She was helpless to save that little girl, just as she
had nearly been helpless to save Maya from that reptilian demon.
Ever since it had attacked, she had dreams she wished to never
remember.
     What had happened in that battle?
     Kakkyou and Halefyne had stood their ground against the demon,
fought it and destroyed it. They had to...for it was dead when she
woke up.
     Woke up from what?
     Serenity's eyes widened as she realized her memory was lost
between awakening in Kakkyou's arms, and watching the reptile beast
lunge for her and Maya.
     Awaken....
     The candle flames abruptly flickered, though she felt no winds
that might disrupted them. Red and orange fires danced wildly
before being sucked into the tip of the candle. And she was plunged
into momentary darkness.
     Light arose with a sudden start once more, though now the
candlefire was silver. Shimmering grey hues, majestic and
beautiful, swayed to the song of an unseen wind.
     Awaken....
     Serenity felt her stomach seize up, her heart suddenly pumping
faster. Those voices had echoed across her dreams, and now defied
the borders the two realms of asleep and awake held. She lifted her
hand before her face, crystal blue eyes looking at her open palm.
Something was awakening from deep within her. 
     A magik. 
     Unlike anything she had ever felt before.
     Such warmth inside her body; why was this frightening her?
     "Serenity?"
     A timid face appeared from around the corner of the fusama. A
young girl stood at the edge of the open doorway, long auburn hair
braided and dangling over her shoulder.
     Serenity smiled, nodding for the little girl to join her.
"It's alright, Maya. I'm awake."
     The child quickly skittered across the floor separating them,
and knelt down next to her. The candles still burned like
moonlight, and the shadows in the room were possessed of a
strangely peaceful dance. She could feel Maya trembling without
even touching the little girl.
     Serenity wrapped her arms around the child, pulling Maya
closer. Maya buried her face into Serenity's breast, the tears
starting to fall. "Serenity...I'm scared."
     She nodded, stroking Maya's hair. "I know, Maya. I am too."
     Crystal blue eyes suddenly widened as she saw GlenHawke
explode into her memories. Except now it was in shades of grey,
drab and lifeless. As if time had stopped, and all that was vibrant
and alive with it. Maya was there, frozen with a terrified scream
on her lips.
     But she...she was still moving.
     She held colour where there should have been none. Her gown
had changed, become a dress of long and flowing white that billowed
out in a wind that could be neither felt nor seen. The demon
crashed down into the rain-soaked mud, rearing up instantly
afterwards.
     Suddenly she knew its name.
     Reptilius.
     Serenity saw herself bearing the mark of a crescent moon upon
her forehead, standing there before the snarling beast. The air was
crackling, alive with a fierce and rampant magik that was coming
from her body. Her heart...it was on fire, being consumed with a
purity that she could not describe. 
     Abruptly the Serenity within her memory turned away from
Reptilius. And looked directly at her. The one within her memory
knew of being watched.
     "Awaken me," the memory whispered.
     Serenity blinked, her memories falling away as she found
herself cradling Maya in her arms once more. She looked down at the
crying child. 
     That youma; it had come for her. 
     For this magik hiding inside of her soul.
     Her body felt chilled, and Serenity held onto Maya tighter,
fearing for the little girl's life. Maya had nearly been killed it
the attack, an innocent caught in a lethal crossfire. What if those
youma came back?
     What if they came back?


     He couldn't cry.
     Why couldn't he cry, shed a single tear for a lost world?
     The Pendragon had never moved from the edge of his bed,
slumped over in utter defeat, his eyes focused upon nothing. He
couldn't even recall if he had been thinking clearly, or thinking
of anything. His breathing was no longer erratic; the shock had
either worn off or taken full control.
     Everything about him was unusually calm.
     Unusually still.
     The only thing that had changed was that the coin-sized lenses
once over his eyes were now on the floor, ignored and forgotten.
His hands were cradling his temples, but there was no headache he
suffered from.
     The lights were still off, darkness abounding off every wall
and object in his guest quarters. Ghostly reflections rippled
across a part of the upper walls, a thin shaft of moonlight
striking the waves and bouncing through the window was upon the
ceiling. Another night might have found him awake, looking up from
where he laid in bed and silently in awe of the Neptuni art.
     Yet there was nothing but regret.
     A cold, empty maw left open within his soul. And it echoed of
the darkness where Aurora once was. He had shut down, unable or
refusing to think, to act, to be human. 
     It was all coming to an end.
     Something shifted within the shadows, darkness parting the way
for a new spectre that defied all barriers and securities. Arthur's
inner sanctum was penetrated, though he did very little to
acknowledge the presence of another. He never stirred, shifted or
turned his head. The fact that it had suddenly appeared did not
startle him.
     Instinctively, he already knew who it was.
     "Was it my fault, Merlin?" he asked, his voice low and calm.
Yet all life had been drained from it, an echo of the shell he now
seemed to be. "Was it because of me that Aurora's destroyed?"
     The spectre took another step into the pale light cast within
the room. An Ancient stood there, the flickering image of a wizened
old mage watching the king with a look of empathy.
     "Yes and no," the projection answered. "What destroyed Aurora
was something not even I could have prevented; I learned only too
late of the planet's extinguished life."
     An end of existence.
     Cruel and twisted.
     Even moreso, this could be only the beginning.
     If there was an instigator, one powerful enough to deliver
death unto an entire planet, then this was merely a prelude to
something darker. And, as impossible as it seemed, he already knew
who was behind all this.
     Morgana.
     "You said I was partly responsible for it," Arthur spoke up
again. "She...she orchestrated this, didn't she?"
     The spectre looked away. "I do not know for certain, but I
trust my instincts. She is the only one who could have gained from
such an atrocity."
     Faded copper eyes were slowly squeezed shut.
     He was taking in every word, each one hitting him like a
hammer, the accusations and implications but a numb pain in the
back of his mind.
     Perhaps this was what Merlin had been warning him about for so
long. For years he had refused to believe the words, to do anything
about them. And now his hesitation had culminated in a horrific
holocaust that spilled more blood over his hands. All because of
her lust for Camelot, for all the city stood for.
     "It should have been me, Merlin. I should have died with that
planet."
     "But you didn't," the spectre stated. "You are still alive. Be
grateful you breathe."
     "How can I be grateful?!" Arthur snapped, showing a true
emotion since first learning the news. He lifted his head, glared
at the projection. "Billions of lives were just wiped out--and I
could have prevented that! If Morgana is to be damned for this
genocide, then I am damned too for letting her succeed."
     Merlin seemed to take no adverse reaction. The spectre merely
nodded and stepped closer. "I can understand your grief and fury,
Arthur. But what has been done cannot be undone. If you let your
past regrets remain, they will surely consume your entire future."
     A bitter expression was on the Pendragon's face as he rose to
his feet, standing face to face with the shadow image of the
Ancient. Moonlight rippled across his face, passed through
Merlin's. 
     "Morgana's not done yet, is she?" Arthur said.
     The spectre glanced out one of the windows, to the ever-
stretching coastal waters sprawled out far beyond the horizon line.
From moonlit blue to ocean darkness.
     "If you remain on Neptune," Merlin stated. "there will not be
a Golden Empire to come home to, Arthur. Return to Earth; I will be
there to fight alongside you."
     He found himself looking out at the same waves as the
projection. Aurora once had seas and waves like this. But now they
were gone. But Earth...Earth still had oceans like this. 
     Numbing grief was put into the fire. It screamed, echoed,
writhed beneath a new emotion that was slowly burning its light
into his copper eyes. His memories would keep Aurora alive. And
right now, his vendetta against the Shadows would keep him awake
until Aurora's destruction had been avenged.
     Arthur turned to Merlin. "Give me some time to organize things
over here," he said. "I'll take Neptune's StarChamber back to Earth
in a few hours."
     The spectre bowed, fading out of being. "As you wish."


     The wait was only for a few minutes, five to ten at most. Yet
they seemed to take forever, an eternity of standing and pacing and
nervously wondering what was happening.
     The doors slid open next to Lancelot and he snapped to
attention, more out of sub-consciousness reflex than anything else.
Arthur stood there in the doorway, face pale and eyes red, but
otherwise collected.
     "Arthur?" Lancelot asked cautiously. 
     There was something about the Pendragon, something different.
Something that seemed of possession. Arthur was already walking
briskly down the corridor, clothed in formal armour rather than
fighting armour. Yet such formal armour itself was only worn on
occasions when battle was either remembered, or expected. 
     Excalibur was sheathed over his back.
     That alone captured the Knight Commander's attention; ever
since his decisive duel upon Aurora's inverted arena, the king had
never brought the legendary sword out into the open. Let alone be
seen visibly wearing it.
     Lancelot immediately took up the pace with the king.
     "I want you to notify all the major planetary authorities
about this if they haven't already been," Arthur ordered, not even
glancing back. The edge had returned to his voice, sharp and
exacting. "Tell them exactly what you've told me; leave nothing
out. I want the entire system on a full military alert until we can
ascertain what the hell happened on Aurora. And I want as many
emergency teams as we can afford deployed within the hour to the
explosion site; our top priority is to rescue any survivors."
     "Yes, Sir."
     The Pendragon turned and stared directly at Lancelot. His eyes
were focused, a fire burning within them. "I didn't spill past
blood, including my own, to see our fragile worlds be dashed to
pieces like this," he stated. They'd worked so hard for peace; he
was not about to stand by and let it be lost. Not this easily. "If
we don't take control now, the entire Golden Empire could fall
apart into chaos."
     Lancelot motioned down the corridor. "The Uranus colony's
tactical centre is this way. We can use it as our base of
operations for the time being."
     "Do we know what did this?" Arthur asked.
     The Knight Commander shook his head. "No. But we're tracking
an energy signature that left Aurora around the time of its
destruction. Whatever it is, its power is stable but off the
charts. And it's on a direct course for--" 
     "Earth," the king finished, already knowing it. "Lancelot?" 
     "Yes, your Majesty?" 
     The king turned to his Knight, eyes already revealing what he
was about to say. "What I feared the most has finally happened:
we're about to go to war again. Pray that it ends quickly."


     Haruka watched the undersea empire of Neptune on the other
side of the curving glass window. And in turn Michiru watched
Haruka from the edge of their bed. The tall, sandy-blonde held an
expression that to others would have been mistaken for a scowl. She
knew better.
     It might have been solemn, even grim to a certain extent. But
it was not a scowl. Haruka was the type who became determined quiet
easily, the mission becoming the obsession. Partially due to her
upbringing amidst Uranus' military order, and partially due to the
person she was.
     Michiru's eyes momentarily darted over to the fading glow of
the viewscreen. Not so long ago, their quiet slumber had been
interrupted by an urgent word from her mother; Aurora had been torn
apart beyond belief, all life upon it wiped out. As the unexpected
transmission returned into the obscurity of darkness, they were
both left to question what would happen now.
     It was doubtful the Uranian delegations would remain. Not when
an unnamed apocalypse had annihilated an entire planet. And that
meant they would have to be separated once more--though this time
they might be apart longer than ever before. 
     And there were still the other complications of their hidden
romance.
     "Neither your family nor mine knows that you are here in my
chambers," she said to Haruka. "You don't have to worry about what
your father will say; he will just assume you've disappeared
somewhere in the middle of the confusion."
     "My father's reactions to learning about us doesn't concern
me," Haruka stated. Her hand brushed against the edge of the glass,
and her reflection showed the dark expression on her face. She
could still see that haunting shadow lurking in the background, of
someone whose eyes were like stars. 
     The Uranian princess turned around, looking at Michiru. "What
does concern me is Aurora. There's no telling what this will do to
the rest of the Solis System. My planet's agitated enough to go to
war over this; everything could fall apart in a few hours."
     An enigmatic smile appeared on Michiru's face as she leisurely
leaned back on the bed. "Ara ara, and you would rather not be in my
arms when the world ends?"
     Haruka shook her head, smirking at that remark. "While there's
no place I'd rather be, Michiru, I was never raised to be
complacent. I just can't sit by and let this happen."
     She watched the tall, sandy-blonde pick up the sheathed royal
sabre. "So you would go to war?"
     A pause.
     "I don't know."
     Haruka walked across the floor, sitting down next to the
Neptuni princess. Her fingers gently ran through Michiru's wavy
aqua-green hair. They were so close to each other, listening only
to their quiet breathing and the rhythmic beating of their hearts.
     "I have to do something," Haruka said, leaning her forehead
against Michiru's. Her blue eyes closed.
     "But you don't know what that is," Michiru countered,
hauntingly majestic eyes watching her. "You don't know which side
to take, which destiny to follow."
     Haruka's eyes opened, staring at the Neptuni princess. Her
lover. Her passion. Her obsession. "I would defy the very stars to
be with you, Michiru," she stated.
     She meant it.
     Every word.
     Michiru let her lips steal a kiss from Haruka's mouth. "You
don't need to defy them, love. I'm right here."
     A hushed laugh was drawn from Haruka. "Hai hai."
     Michiru let the scent of her lover flood her senses. Only in
Haruka's arms did she feel complete. And only with Haruka alongside
her would her destiny be fulfilled. "You brought it with you, ne?"
she asked.
     "Brought what?" Haruka asked in return, her voice quiet and
still unwilling to disturb the mood between them.
     "Your henshin."
     The Uranian princess abruptly drew away from her, almost ready
to stand up from the sheets. "How did you know about that?" Haruka
asked cautiously, that guarding wall which had taken so long for
Michiru to break down suddenly up in a brief instant.
     Michiru brought out her own henshin, one with the planetary
rune of Neptune engraved on the tip. Sparkles like the depths of
the oceans trailed down her hand as she placed the henshin next to
her on the bed.
     And then she slowly leaned forward, letting her lips caress
Haruka's ear with her breath. "You are just like me, Haruka," she
whispered. "We are Sailor Senshi."
     "I wouldn't know that," Haruka said, pulling away again. "I've
never tried to summon anything from the henshin." 
     Her demeanor towards Michiru had grown distant in a few
seconds, questioning who her lover was. Questioning who she was. It
was one thing to defy family and protocol, to romance another
princess, one whose family was on unfriendly terms with hers. But
now Haruka was looking destiny in the eye.
     "Can't you feel it calling you?" Michiru asked. "The magik we
hold within us, the power that was meant to be harnessed by these
henshins; can't you feel it calling out to you?"
     Haruka's hand slowly reached behind her back, and then drew
out the artifact bearing the rune of Uranus. "Ever since I first
received it, I've ignored the voices," she said. "It was given to
me in a secret ceremony when I became sixteen; this henshin has
been passed down to the firstborn royal daughter of every
generation. My father told me about the legends, and then gave it
to me. He had hopes, but did not fully expect me to be the true
wielder of the henshin. But the instant it was placed in my
hand...I knew I was a Senshi."
     The Neptuni princess placed a hand on Haruka's shoulder. "You
cannot escape destiny, love."
     Haruka placed her hand over Michiru's. "But at the very least,
I'll be close to you."
     They both looked out to the reaches of undersea realms hidden
beneath Neptune's surface. On the other side of the glass was wind
and water and flowing tides. Neither one could return to their
lives as princesses; everything would be thrown away for their
cause and battle. A call to arms had been raised. Sacrifices would
be inevitable. 
     Such was the harsh reality facing them.
     "Whatever destroyed Aurora has origins outside of our solar
system," Michiru stated. "That is why we Sailor Senshi of the outer
planets have been called into duty."
     Haruka nodded. "We'll find it, and fight it."
     To save this world, they would descend into hell.
     Yet hell would not be so bad.
     For they would descend into the fires together.


     His hands idly played with an amber rose, spinning the
flawless stem between his fingers before bringing the blooming
flower to rest within his cupped palm. Strange to think of how
something so seemingly alien to him would become such a natural
action so quickly.
     This rose; he had thrown it at a creature he had never before
seen. A shadow that had a hellish face and no doubt a hellish name.
He didn't want to consider what it would or could have been called.
But this rose--he had summoned it from the very nothingness of
being.
     Magellan turned his gaze away from the rest of the rose garden
sprawled out before him. He had to be honest with himself; the
entire act of playing with the roses was merely something to calm
his nerves. Most everyone who had seen the explosion in the skies
was curious. The handful of others, like him, who knew what that
explosion was, were worried.
     Already intelligence transmissions were cluttering up the
skies. Reports and rumours were coming in from not just places
around Earth, but from interstellar vessels and outposts, and other
planets as well. Mercury was incredibly agitated about losing its
trade envoy bound for Pluto. Camelot didn't seem impressed either
that their flagship, the Dragon's Eye, had also been destroyed with
Aurora.
     But no one held any certainty as to what had reduced a planet
to a belt of lifeless asteroids floating in space. Rumour control
was having enough of a problem trying to prevent a surge of mass
hysteria across Arthur's realms; some tacticians feared this was an
omen. 
     The Shadows were going to attack soon.
     However, all the concerns and commotion about Aurora were
growing distant in his mind. It was easier to be calm, remain stoic
to such a tragedy when it was so far away. He was still trying to
live down the adrenaline rush from the morning's attack. Those
reptilian youma had been rather insistent on dispatching not only
him, but Myung as well.
     Through that he had discovered a magik of the roses.
     And through that, he had also learned of Myung's secret.
Somehow, despite the initial chaos that reigned after witnessing
the explosion in the skies, she had managed to pull him aside. And
everything was laid out.
     It didn't surprise him much to discover she was a princess
from Venus. That actually explained a lot of things. But it was the
addition to her royal lineage that was disturbing him. Myung had
told him of the Senshi, the soldiers destined to appear to protect
the Solis System in a time of deadly crisis. And then came what
seemed the hardest shock of all. Myung had not merely told him; she
had shown him that she was one of those prophesied Senshi.
     "Sailor...Venus," he mulled to himself.
     In truth, he had not the slightest idea where that put his
relationship with Myung. He still cared for her, laughed in her
company, felt alive in seeing her smile.
     Dammit, he still loved her.
     But now he knew she was a princess. Not only that, but some
sort of soldier now too. Should he feel insignificant? Should he
beg for her help? Ask for her to go--or to stay here in Vlatmere?
     "Why does life have to be so complicated?" he sighed in
exasperation, leaning back and sprawling himself across the bench.
     "At least it's not boring," Frederic spoke up, walking into
the rose garden. 
     Magellan gave a beleaguered laugh. "As much as I hate to admit
it, you're right," he said. "Anything new?"
     Frederic shook his head. "Not really. More than anything we've
got sketchy rumours and an onslaught of rescue updates. However,
you will be pleased to know that Arthur has just sent word to all
the major players: he's returning to Earth immediately."
     That managed to catch Magellan's attention.
     "Has he called an emergency meeting?" the prince asked.
     "Not yet. The transmission said he will be though, once he
arrives. Magellan, your name's on the guest list." Frederic noted
the near scowl appearing on Magellan's face. "You don't look
thrilled to be called to Camelot."
     Magellan gave his friend and incredulous look. "After what we
saw, would you?"
     "Point taken," Frederic conceded. "I assume you're still
worried about her."
     The prince nodded. "I keep thinking about that document she
mentioned, the manuscript telling of the Sailor Senshi. If they are
as powerful as its says they are, then that means--"
     "Whatever we're up against is just as bad if not worse,"
Frederic finished. "I hear you. So, is the fact that she wears a
strange skirt going to put a cramp on your dating plans?"
     He received a punch in the shoulder for that.
     But Magellan didn't deny that his friend had a point; what was
going to happen between him and Myung now? Would their duties pull
them apart? What he disliked the most was thinking of Myung going
into battle. Could he allow himself to let her walk into a war and
risk being injured--or killed?
     Something on Frederic's wrist abruptly beeped.
     "Go ahead," he said, lifting the comm. link to where it could
pick up his voice.
     "Sir," the reply came. "The modifications you requested have
been completed. We can begin upon your arrival."
     Magellan and Frederic glanced at each other.
     "We'll be there shortly," Frederic answered.
     The prince was already standing up from the bench, heading for
the nearest exit from the rose garden. His commander was not two
steps behind him. Myung would no doubt meet them in the chambers--
provided she wasn't already there.
     They needed answers about the enigma that was the Sailor
Senshi. And now was their best and only chance to find those
answers. The legends had a source, a single document. It was time
to procure a copy of that for themselves.
     "You ready for this?" he inquired.
     Frederic grinned. "Hey, I've always wanted to hack into Venus'
protected mainframe."


     Kakkyou and Halefyne were standing on the edge of the
courtyard, GlenHawke's Mother in the open and the Elven lord
leaning against a nearby tree. Both of their gazes were to the
skies, their attentions captured by the dancing lights that refused
to die in the afternoon sun.
     "Now there's something you don't see every day," Kakkyou
remarked dryly, the winds ruffling the sleeves of his garments.
"What do you suppose did that?"
     Halefyne bit her lip. "I don't know."
     "We seem to be saying that a lot lately, you and I. Don't
bother denying that we are finding ourselves in the midst of
something far more grander and dangerous than we could possibly
imagine."
     She turned to the Elven lord. "The answer is still 'No',
Kakkyou."
     Tension inside GlenHawke was escalating each day. Reptilius'
attack had left the students wondering if another might come. No
one wanted to sleep alone in their own room. Magik had been left
without practice for days on end. And it would still be weeks
before Sister Rowyn recovered from her injuries. Everyone seemed to
sense the attack as a mere prelude to something even more
terrifying.
     And now this explosion amidst the stars had occurred.
     Winds were blowing across GlenHawke, gentle and cool. Trees
rustled, the surrounding mountain forests oblivious to what was
happening all around them. The moment of silence and quiet beauty
passed them by.
     Kakkyou turned his head as he sensed a new presence drawing
near. Serenity had emerged from her sleep; right beside her,
clinging to her gown, was the child called Maya.
     Serenity nodded to them both, smiling as she saw them.
     She never had the chance to speak as Kakkyou pushed off from
the tree and walked towards her. "Serenity," he said. "You're no
longer safe here. I've come to take you with me to Elfhame. The
magik of the Elven will protect you better than the Sisters of
GlenHawke ever could."
     She froze.
     In a way she had expected to hear this. In a way she had
wanted to hear this. His kisses had promised her so much to dream
about. Kakkyou was the one she wanted to spend her future with. But
now that it was happening, she was uncertain how to answer. The
magik that had changed candlelight to moonlight was still within
her soul.
     Everything was changing....
     "Kakkyou!" Halefyne snapped. "You know there are no guarantees
that the Elves in Arana won't kill her upon seeing her. You're
acting on your own impulses, and that will only harm Serenity."
     The Elven lord turned his head, dragon green eyes narrowing at
GlenHawke's Mother. "Are these the words coming from one whose
barriers were shredded like they were dried up leaves?" Kakkyou
inquired coldly. "That demon creature didn't even have to make an
effort to get into this place."
     His eyes began to flash crimson, the change of colours
betraying his rising anger. His silver hair began to billow out
around him.
     Elven magik was being invoked.
     "How confident are you in Elfhame's defenses?" Halefyne shot
back, visibly summoning her own powers as winds started to sweep
around her form.
     Maya gripped Serenity's dress tighter. "Serenity!"
     Serenity stepped forward, coming between a potential battle
between the two. "Stop it, please!" she cried out, silencing them
both.
     Crystal blue eyes looked to the frightened girl clinging to
her gown. For Maya's sake, for the sake of the others here at
GlenHawke, she could not put them at risk. That youma whose name
was Reptilius had come for her, and her alone. To leave GlenHawke
was to draw the danger away from the students here.
     They had their own dreams to realize.
     She could not let those precious dreams be threatened.
     Serenity looked to the Elven lord. "I will go with you to
Elfhame, Kakkyou. I don't want to put my friends, my family, in any
more danger."
     "Serenity," Halefyne protested. "I cannot let you--"
     "She's old enough to understand that the power she holds is
what these youma want," Kakkyou cut in, his tone finalizing any
further arguments. "Serenity's not a little girl anymore, Halefyne.
You've been her mother since she was brought here. Now it's time
for you to let her go."
     Halefyne looked to Serenity for support.
     She found none.
     "I have been this girl's protector since you first brought her
here to me," she said quietly, her voice subdued for the first time
since Serenity could ever remember.
     "Then let me protect her now," Kakkyou said. Dragon green eyes
were serious in their gaze to the aging woman. "Halefyne, we may
have had our fights and our differences, but I trust you more than
I trust some of my own kind. It's time for you to trust me. On my
own, I have more power than all your combined students here at
GlenHawke. The other Elven will stand with me." He glanced over at
Serenity. "She's made her choice; I ask you to honour it."
     Halefyne watched him with half a glare and half a scowl. "Just
promise me you will guard her with your life," she said.
     The Elven lord solemnly nodded. "By the royal blood of Elfhame
that flows through me, she will not be harmed unless this body is
broken first."
     Halefyne's swallowed hard. "If that is what Serenity wishes,
then I will not hold her back."
     Serenity's face seemed to brighten, a smile appearing amidst
the silent and saddened tears that were brimming in her eyes.
Kakkyou was the name she wanted to whisper when she was about to
fall asleep, his jade green eyes the last thing she wanted to see
as she slipped into a dreamworld. But to be with him still meant
giving up her life in GlenHawke.
     She would be turning away from anyone who cared for her, from
anyone she cared for. With a nod she showed her gratitude to Mother
Halefyne, unable to say anything as her voice seemed choked.
Crystal blue eyes looked down the little girl clinging to her
dress.
     Maya shook her head, mouth open in stunned disbelief over what
she was hearing. She looked up at Serenity, desperate for a word of
reassurance. "Y-You're leaving?" she said, the tears already
threatening to run down the child's cheek.
     Abruptly Kakkyou stepped in, waving his hand before Maya. The
child's eyes slowly closed and she fell backwards into the Elven
lord's arms. Sleeping soundly, the little girl would not awaken for
hours.
     "It would be best for all of us if we left without anyone else
knowing," he said to Serenity.
     Halefyne nodded, taking the child from the Elven lord's arms.
"I'll take care of Maya. Go now."
     And so a new Serenity's world changed.
     For the better or for the worse remained uncertain.
     Only the future would know.
     There was little for Serenity to do before she left. Kakkyou
assured her there were garments awaiting her in Elfhame, so she
took no clothes with her. She had no personal possessions that were
of great value. But there was still a place she had to see one last
time; Serenity said good-bye to the archives. The books upon the
shelves wished her well, yet she could sense the loneliness already
setting into these chambers.
     Before an hour had passed since her choice, Serenity found
herself standing on the edge of GlenHawke's borders. A step over
the threshold of the front gates would find her within unknown
territory, realms where dragyns still might be lurking. She
hesitated, the blue skies overhead displaying billowing white
clouds that moved swiftly through the air. The winds that stirred
these clouds also stirred the folds of her gown.
     Serenity looked back one last time at GlenHawke.
     Halefyne was seeing them off, standing a considerable distance
away. Their Mother...seemed a little smaller than usual.    
Serenity waved one last time, and Halefyne returned the sentiment.
     "Serenity," the Elven lord said, already standing outside of
GlenHawke. "We should be moving before the night begins to fall;
Elfhame is a considerable walk through Arana's forest."
     She nodded and took in a deep breath. The threshold was
crossed and she was no longer within GlenHawke. A new exhilaration
thrilled her as she turned her head and saw the gates from an
entirely new angle. 
     This was freedom, the chance to embrace a new destiny.
     Her future.
     Kakkyou let her draw up beside him before he stole a kiss from
her cheeks. "I swear I will always be with you," he said. "You are
my only reason to live, Serenity. It might seem strange; an Elven
and a human, but I cannot deny what I feel. I love you."
     Kakkyou took her hand in his, and led her into the trees.
     Into the forest isles of Arana.
     Into a lost world where the Elven dwelled.


     They were known as the Jackyl squadron. 
     An assemblage of Mars' best and most unorthodox fighter
pilots. The core team numbered twelve, and they were disputably the
deadliest interstellar soldiers the Solis System knew. The only
ones to debate the issue came from Uranus. However, no one from
that planet was here.
     Right now, they were the masters of space.
     In a standard formation of 6x6 they patrolled the outer rim
which defined the boundaries between Mars and Earth. Earth's lunar
orb was partially blocking their view of the sun. This was,
however, working to their advantage; the gravitational pull was
also masking the presence of their fighters.
     From inside his cockpit, Arakyn clenched his hand into a ball.
The skintight suit wrapped around his entire body from the neck
down gave off a sound of being stretched. Eyes hardened by constant
vigil and duty to his planet, by the wars that had raged on before
the forming of the Golden Empire, stared at the wall before him.
     It should have been glass. Something to let him see into the
depths of space. But they were running in stealth mode, not
allowing the slightest rise in power to betray their location.
Their target was that energy signature leaving Aurora after the
planet's demise.
     Whatever their opponent was, it was not something to be taken
lightly. Anything that could annihilate an entire world meant
business.
     For now Arakyn was confined to staring at rows of metal bars,
each one carved with runes that he couldn't read for the life of
him. Probably some sort of operator's manual. But these were
fighters crafted through a mergence of magik, metal and the human
will. The Jackyl Squadron piloted the smallest interstellar vessels
that made use of the "living engine" system.
     The flightsuit he wore was complimentary to the symbiotic
relationship shared between pilot and piloted. It acted to amplify
his own magik, to further feed the engine. As a result, his
performance was enhanced incredibly. He was faster, more agile,
harder to catch.
     "I've got something!" one of the Jackyl pilots abruptly spoke
up. "It matches the signature we found leaving Aurora, coming our
way."
     "Look sharp, people," Arakyn stated, closing his eyes. His
thoughts grew focused, his mind willing the ship to come to life.
Detecting his energy, the ship answered.
     The living engine system was activated.
     His bodysuit went from a solid shade of deep black to outlines
of electric blue. An intricate design appeared upon every inch of
the flightsuit, casting a sapphiric glow inside the cockpit. 
     The thin bars of metal in front of him began to retract one by
one, splitting in half and being pulled away. In their place was a
glass canopy; at last he could see into space now. The stars were
twinkling all around him--but his gaze was focused upon the single
beacon of light in his sights. 
     It was growing larger.
     Their target was approaching.
     An image appeared, superimposed on the glass canopy, revealing
the identity of the one who had destroyed Aurora.
     "It's...it's a woman," one of the other pilots said in
surprise.
     "Switch to battle mode," Arakyn ordered, working the control
systems of his fighter. "I don't care what she looks like; odds are
she'll fry our asses without a second thought. I want all weapons
locked on her before she realizes we're even here."
     "She...she has some sort of energy field around her," one of
the pilots said. "I can't get a lock."
     Arakyn scowled. "I could use something a little more specific.
What kind of energy field? How heightened is her magik?"
     "Unknown, Sir," came the reply.
     And from her place soaring within the darkened heavens,
Mistress 9 smiled wickedly. In time such a discovered magik would
be harnessed by the Inner Senshi. An ability to travel through the
emptiness of space without danger.
     Sailor Teleport.
     But at this moment in time, she alone was the only one who
held such a heightened power to utilize a teleport that didn't
require the StarChamber.
     Violet eyes opened slightly as she noticed her audience. It
was time for the Dark Messiah to play again. But just like the
samurai upon Aurora, the Jackyls were not about to go without a
fight.
     "If you can't target her, then target whatever energy she's
got enclosed around her," Arakyn snapped, quickly punching a number
of buttons on a side console. "I want primary weapons systems from
everyone online; each fighter will make one strategic strike,
centring on the following co-ordinates."
     His eyes narrowed.
     "We hit her once and we hit her hard, people."
     Wielding magik was a part of being a fighter pilot.
     There was nothing more devastating an attack than one made by
magik. Each fighter was equipped with a special series of
amplifiers that could unleash a concentrated burst of magik. The
speed and punch of the attack was enhanced almost tenfold as a
result. The living engine's computer would see to adjusting the
targeting once the energy pulse had been launched. But it was the
power behind the pilot that determined how deadly the explosion
would be.
     "Status report," Arakyn barked through the comm. system.
     Everyone gave their affirmative.
     His exhaled deeply, his hands gripping the two controllers
that piloted the fighter. Every muscle in his body was tense beyond
what they should have been, the cockpit alive with his magik. "On
my mark," he stated.
     The Messiah of Silence drew closer.
     "FIRE!!"
     Every last ship of the Jackyl squadron let loose their attack,
a volley of propelled magik shooting towards Mistress 9. Trails of
the energy followed in their wake, wisps of incantation fading into
the darkness.
     Arakyn's eyes were narrowed. He was vaguely aware of the sweat
trailing down his face as he used every ounce of strength to force
his projectile to soar faster and harder. They had one chance at a
surprise hit; after that they would have to deal with this lethal
harbinger face to face.
     Mistress 9 slowed her speed, tilting her body so she could
properly face the onslaught. A laugh escaped her lips.
     "Pathetic," she stated, raising the Silence Glaive. The
shimmering blade was pointed directly at the oncoming attack; she
made no move to dodge or escape.
     "Silence Wall!"
     Something crackled within space, black lightening streaking in
front of Mistress 9 as the attacking magik converged. And exploded.
The heavens became ablaze in fireworks as fireball upon fireball
spewed out from the core where the Dark Messiah had once been.
Flames and smoke spilled out at every angle and direction.
     A series of cheers rose up from the Jackyl pilots.
     "Got her!" one proclaimed.
     Suddenly Mistress 9 punched through the inferno, soaring
faster than she had moved before. The energy pulses had never even
touched her; the magik of the Dark Messiah far surpassed that of
any mere fighter. Or group of fighters.
     "Incoming!" one of the pilots exclaimed.
     "Evasive action!" Arakyn shouted, yanking hard on the
controls. His fighter spun left and dropped; out of his peripherals
he could see the others taking his lead. "Jackyls three and seven,
draw her fire. The others move in behind and hit her with
everything you've got. And watch out; she's more agile than we are
right now."
     The squadron scattered and went twisting through the heavens,
a number of them charging Mistress 9 while a number just dove out
of her way. The Messiah of Silence dove right into the thick of the
opposition. With a loud shout she raked down the glaive, a blast of
magik amplifying the vicious arc. One of the fighters was cleaved
in half, Mistress 9 shooting through the space between the two
pieces before they detonated.
     Her Silence Glaive was swung again, the arc broader this time.
Mistress 9's eyes were alive in her passionate appetite for wiping
the squadron out of existence.
     "Silence Glaive Surprise!"
     Everything went dead silent. 
     Arakyn felt his own fighter lurch, the cockpit growing
unnaturally quiet. The lights around him began to flash and blink.
This was the lull before the storm.
     And a split second later the heavens exploded.
     His craft was violently thrown, spinning upside-down and
backwards as he tried to regain his senses. The craft was unwilling
to respond, caught in what felt like a death spiral. As if the
fighter was trying to play dead in order to survive the battle.
Space and stars were a dizzying blur of lights, accented by the
tremendous fireball that laid claim to the place where half of the
Jackyl squadron had once been.
     Silhouettes were swallowed up as the shockwave tore through
anything solid it could find. Static screamed into his ears. And
amidst it all, Arakyn still fought to regain control of his
fighter.
     What followed over the comm. system was total chaos.
     "Jackyls six, eight, two and five are down!"
     "Arakyn, do you copy?"
     "Where the hell is she?!" 
     "She's right behind me. I could use some help!"
     "What the--?!"
     Within a matter of heartbeats, Mars' flying elite has been cut
down. As Arakyn managed to get the distorted swirl of stars to
settle within his sights, he could see only two more fighters from
the Jackyl squadron still left intact. 
     One had its engine sliced apart by the Dark Messiah moments
later, the ship and its pilot killed by the ensuing explosion. The
second one was soon to follow, though it swung around to face its
enemy. Yet every blast that could be unleashed bounced off Mistress
9's barrier.
     One stroke destroyed the vessel.
     There was a brief moment where Arakyn's craft was stable and
unmoving. And it was then that he could clearly see the Dark
Messiah hovering in space. She turned to him, look directly into
his eyes. Her own were violet, fierce and ready if not eagerly
willing to annihilate him.
     She attacked.
     He fled.
     Arakyn winced as one of the wings of his fighter was grazed,
exposed metal pulled back. It didn't surprise him when he felt the
blood start to run down his arm. Like all transports, the fighters
relied on the "living engine." The magik they used was symbiotic to
the fighters. If the craft was damaged in any way, their own bodies
showed the identical scars.
     He pulled upwards, throwing his craft into a sharp barrel
roll. Mistress 9 was still in his line of sight; she was following
him leisurely, like a cat allowing the mouse it had caught to run
around.
     And then she struck.
     The Silence Glaive was raked across the side of the ship,
tearing a massive gouge through the metal frame. Arakyn convulsed,
blood dribbling out from his lips and down his chin as he felt the
side of his belly open up. Warm liquid washed down his skin, his
flightsuit stained scarlet.
     His vessel plunged downwards, making a maddened dash for
Earth. "Come on...!" he hissed, forcing both aspects of the living
engine to push their limits. If he didn't risk his life now, he'd
be killed in a matter of seconds.
     The risk didn't matter.
     An enormous pulse of magik erupted from Mistress 9's glaive,
aimed directly at his escaping vessel. Arakyn threw his craft
aside, missing the core of the blast. But he was still struck, the
damage severe as his fighter pitched sideways.
     In his blurred vision, he could see a blue world through the
cracked glass canopy.
     He was falling to Earth.
     "Mayday!" he called out, sending an emergency signal out to
anyone who might be listening. "I don't know if anyone out there
can hear me, but I'm coming down whether or not you like it!"
     Another buffet shook the fighter, and his stomach tightened
up. He felt sick, and vomited. 
     The engine was dying...and so was he.
     "She's coming," he rasped, his voice and air strangled by a
chest that seemed to want to crush everything inside. He was
burning up. "She's coming...."
     Arakyn closed his eyes, and braced himself as the world
outside turned into a fiery inferno. It would be a miracle if he
survived re-entry. But after what he had just witnessed, death
might be the preferred way to avoid another confrontation with the
Dark Messiah.
     Seconds later his fighter broke apart, the left wing torn to
ribbons by the force of the descent. Its balance thrown off, the
craft made a grotesque spin that sent it pinwheeling. Sparks
erupted along the sleek metal body as whatever protective shielding
and framework the craft had was stripped off. Inside, Arakyn's body
viciously convulsed as his skin was punctured, blood spraying every
direction, the cuts and gashes matching the damage taken on by the
ship.
     The engine core breathed its last. 
     Arakyn was killed instantly as the fires swept through his
cockpit.
     As the fighter went down in a brilliant crimson blaze, a wave
of magik radiating out from its core, Mistress 9 watched the death
with mild interest. How fragile these human vessels were--both the
crafts and the pilots. If this was the Solis System's best defense,
then she had definite reason to laugh in their faces.
     She smiled, and then giggled to herself.
     Taking over this planet for Pharaoh 90 would be easier than
she had first thought.


     The technicians all stood at attention as Magellan and
Frederic swiftly crossed into the expansive room. A curt salute was
given by their king, his eyes already sweeping the chambers for one
specific face.
     Myung turned her head as she heard the abrupt hush of the
technicians. She had already suited up in a private antechamber,
receiving her final inspection by one of the techs as they
appraised her interface equipment.
     A nod from the young woman before her gave approval.
     Magellan adeptly crossed the room and moved down the
staircase. If he didn't double-time each step, he might have just
skipped the last flight. And he was by Myung's side right after. He
didn't need to ask if she was alright; his blue eyes were
practically being their own silent inquisition.
     Frederic took command of the others in the room. "Everybody,
as far as the records go, you were all cleared out at this time,"
he stated, pointing to the lead technician. "However, we need you
all here in case anything goes wrong."
     The technicians nodded. They had been warned of the classified
priority this venture held. The presence of their lord, and his
right hand, only validated the need for their unquestioning
compliance.
     Frederic remained on the upper level, and leaned against one
of the guardrails as he surveyed the large multi-floored facility.
"As far back as I can remember, I hated these things," he said,
frowning. He tilted his head down at Magellan. "I still do."
     "I know," Magellan replied with a grin. "Every time your
routine training dive comes around, you find some excuse to push
back the date as long as possible."
     Frederic continued to stare at the central piece, his frown
becoming a scowl. It wasn't too far from the truth when he said he
hated that thing. "Why anyone would actually want to be a data
diver is beyond me."
     "It's not the weak of heart," Myung said, her tone neither
scolding Frederic nor pitying him. It was a simple statement echoed
by a princess who knew that truth must sometimes be flatly
presented to be accepted. "Only those with incredible physical and
psychological stamina can withstand the pressures of the dive."
     "However," the head technician cut in, reminding them all
there were other members in this conspiracy. "You all are
exceptions to that."
     She tugged at the black wetsuit clinging to her body.
"Perhaps. But where ones like you were chosen, we've been trained
from birth." 
     Magellan's face became slightly flushed, and he cleared his
throat to make for a convenient distraction from that fact. Her
suit covered everything from the neck down...and she was wearing no
other clothes beneath it. Every last contour of her body, though
slightly muted by the fabric, was still brought out more than he
felt comfortable with.
     His awkward attempt to remain a gentleman amused her; Myung
laughed quietly, raising her arms and pivoting to let him appraise
her a little further.
     "Tease," he sighed. But he still laughed.
     That made Myung feel a little easier; she could sense his
apprehension. A dive like this was far from being classified as
'safe'. This one would hold more guardians swimming around,
protective protocols that acted more as lethal predators than a
mere security firewall.
     "I'd rather I was going," Magellan admitted.
     She shook her head, smiling despite the solemnness in her
eyes. "I'm the only one who is qualified to do such a hack; my
royal passcodes can get me past whatever guardians they've set up."
     "But it won't take the sentries long to realize it's a royal
passcode that's accessing the archives," Magellan countered. "They
might identify it as yours and run a trace." He cast another glance
over her shoulder. Blue eyes looked up to the seemingly benign
beast towering like a central pillar in the room.
     A large cylindrical, glass chamber was awaiting her. 
     Metal and magik all wrapped into one tidy package.
     Bubbles from the liquid inside surged, floating to the top. A
strange concoction that was like viscous water, a fluid tinted sky
blue. It wasn't water. Despite all he had been taught, Magellan
still didn't fully understand what the hell that stuff was.
     All he knew was that this was necessary for interfacing and
accessing any planetary archival system. DataSea: a virtual network
compiling every last scrap of information that had been collected
since Aurora first created it. Technology and magik were again
merged, blended almost flawlessly. To do a virtual dive into this
ocean of information was the fastest and most surreal way to find
anything.
     In the DataSea, while it might have been classified, you could
find almost anything. Regular computers and terminals had their
limitations of data transference, speed and organization. But the
human element broadened the entire way the Solis system now looked
at such a task.
     Data was no longer downloaded into a mere terminal; a diver
could download it directly into their brain. Magik was the bridge
that allowed technology and the organic to interact so.
     Myung looked back at the glass chamber. "It's time," she said,
looking back to the prince. 
     A torn dichotomy was woven into Magellan's expression. This
was necessary if they were to further understand the role of the
Sailor Senshi in this unfolding war. And at the same time, his body
grew chilled at the thought of putting her at risk. A part of him
was still on edge from that demon attack.
     He tried to find a voice of support, words of encouragement.
All that came out from his mouth was aggravated stutters.
"Just...just be careful," he said finally, quietly. "Come back to
me, Myung."
     She nodded.
     And abruptly leaned forward, gently pressing her lips against
his. It was stolen kiss that was savoured a few moments longer by
each of them. Eyes closed, not daring to move any other part of
their body, Magellan and Myung simply let the emotions ride the
flood of warmth caused by their lips.
     Up on the higher echelon, Frederic sighed wistfully. "Ah,
young love," he remarked, turning to the technician.
     "Indeed," the technician replied indifferently, more involved
with the screens and interfaces in front of him.
     Myung broke away, blue eyes opening again as she smiled
demurely. Her face was flushed. She didn't seem to mind. There was
a stairway that led to the top of the glass chamber; Myung took her
time ascending it, but didn't drag it out either. If anything she
acted unusually calm, as if she were ready to go for a mere swim
rather than a data dive.
     Only two types of people were ever (legally) permitted to do
such "dives" into the enormous pool of data floating across the
planets of the Solis system. One was a certified and trained diver,
and the other was any member of the royal family and their inner
court.
     Magellan's entire body tensed as he watched her reach the edge
of the chamber, the princess looking down at the rippling liquid
inside. She adeptly slid a visor over her eyes, ensuring it was
secure around her head. There was nothing else she would take save
for the suit covering her skin. That was all she required for an
interface.
     All that was left was for Myung to dive.
     And breathe in the fluid directly to the lungs.
     "The first sign of trouble, I want her pulled out," Magellan
said, looking up at Frederic. "A guard dog gets too close, her
presence is detected; I don't care."
     Frederic nodded. "You do realize afterwards, you were never
here," he added playfully to the technician.
     The technician gave him what might have been an unimpressed
look. "I'm already feeling the amnesia, Commander."
     Somewhat taken aback by the retort, Frederic shrugged his
shoulders at Magellan.
     Myung visibly took a deep breath, and then plunged into the
chamber. There was barely a splash from the liquid as she was
enveloped. Everything rippled, throwing an eerie dance of light
across the entire room.
     Her kiss was still on his mouth, Magellan's lips tingling. As
if she was still there in front of him and not submerged into that
bizarre sludge. He could have walked up to join Frederic and the
technician, to watch her progress from the terminals. But from here
the sense of helplessness wasn't so great.
     He would remain close to her.
     And if something went wrong, he'd use a rose to shatter the
chamber.
     Myung floated in the middle of the glass chamber, back
slightly arched, arms partially extended. Her palms faced outwards;
Magellan could only guess if her eyes were closed behind the mask.
     Lips moved.
     She drank in the liquid.
     There were a few moments where she convulsed, her body
panicking when it registered that the lungs were filling with
fluids instead of air. Whatever choking noise she made was silenced
by the chamber, everything from where Magellan stood happening in
pantomime. With each spasm her body went through, his entire being
tensed. He suddenly realized he was clenching his jaw, hands
tightly balled up in fists.
     Slowly Myung calmed down, her body now drinking up the oxygen
circulating in the liquid. Her long blonde hair billowed out behind
her, strands clinging together.
     "All biorhythms are within acceptable parameters," the
technician reported. "Heartbeat steady. Brain algorithms are
stable."
     Frederic and Magellan slowly turned their heads, sharing a
brief glance at this prelude. "Let the hack begin," Frederic
stated, turning to the head technician.
     The tech nodded, finger hovering over a single button.
     The dive was activated.
     Bubbles surged from the grating beneath Myung. And with the
bubbles came numerous black cables. They were thin in diameter,
metallic nodes on the ends guiding them towards her. It was like
watching a swarm encircle their prey. One cable snaked forward,
sliding next to the edge of the wetsuit at Myung's neck. The node
rippled, and then burrowed.
     Fused with the suit.
     From where he stood, Magellan could no longer see the seam
where the cable began and Myung's suit ended. The other cables
began their own fusion, taking various place along her suit. The
majority focused around her chest and back. Others brushed against
her arms and wrists and legs.
     Very soon Myung resembled a hellish-looking battery.
     The visor was protecting her eyes from the liquid in the tank.
But it had another usage; since this dive was a virtual one, she
needed something to directly see and interact with. Aurora was--or
had been but a few days ago--working on a special interface that
didn't require the visor for a dive. One that might render the
entire suit and chamber obsolete.
     But that dream would never be known now.
     Countless lives and dreams had ended.
     Myung vowed, as both a princess and as a Senshi, to stop this
from happening to any other worlds. That more than anything else
was what gave her the resolve to perform such a risky data dive.
     Her visor abruptly came on.   
     White light flooded her field of vision, and she squinted.
     A part of her still knew she was floating in a glass tank
somewhere on Earth; that meant the second phase of the dive had yet
to be initiated.
     It was done so moments later.
     The white light faded and dissolved. Blurred into nothingness,
and then became blue. She could vaguely make out the reflection of
her face within the visor. And so she focused on that as her body
started to tingle, the nodes working their magik.
     Watching it become her.
     Watching it become her....


     She found herself standing on the edge of heaven once more.
     The same heaven.
     A different edge.
     Setsuna blinked, turned her head in surprise. Her last memory
was that of a flood of light coming from the Raithe's garnet orb.
An orb that echoed of her own unique magik. One that whispered of
the trails of time, and left a strange beating in her heart.
     So foreign yet so familiar all at the same time.
     But the Raithe's games were far from over. More than ever now,
she could hear something in his cryptic statements. A growing
knowledge of what it meant to watch over the continuum that was
time. He wanted her to tell him something. What that exactly was,
she was still working on. Regardless, there was a growing urgency
in his presentation; the games were fading away, and he was stating
instead of riddling.
     Her thoughts about the Raithe faded away as Setsuna looked
around her new surroundings. Whitened tiled floors stretched out
before her, and behind her, and all around her. The guardress of
time found herself next to a small fountain, its marble heads
spewing forth crystal waters into its basin.
     She was in a grand hall that seemed to go on forever, the
walls curving into archways of strange and elaborate designs. And
yet everything resembled a skeletal framework, large picture
windows of varying shapes matching every curve and bend the metal
made.
     Everything here was expansive and open.
     Claustrophobia would never be an issue here.
     Nothing seemed to be bright despite the white hue seemingly
being the only colour here; the light was toned down to a dim glow.
Perhaps to resemble the evening. As far as she could tell, the only
light came from the stars around her.
     Abruptly an almost mechanical voice spoke up.
     "I bid you greetings, Sailor Pluto," it said. "Welcome to
Castle Charon."
     Needless to say, that startled her. Setsuna gave a cautious
glance over her shoulder, finding nothing. She pivoted, looking
further around the atrium, scanning it for any other presence. "Who
are you?" she asked, tilting her head and looking up to the
enormous dome overhead. It took her a few moments to realize that
this dome was in fact just a round metallic frame without the
glass. 
     Above her, there was nothing to separate this place from the
cold void of space.
     "I am the core consciousness of this castle," the voice
answered. "And I have spent many years awaiting your arrival. My
former master--"
     Setsuna whirled. "Who?" she demanded.
     There was an awkward pause, as if the castle was taken aback
by her sudden attentiveness. Finally the voice replied, "He prefers
I call him the Raithe."
     So she didn't just happen to find herself here by mistake.
     "My duties lie to the one who watches over the streams of
time," the voice added. "You will find that only you have the
authority to access my archives and functions. Even the other
Sailor Senshi who will soon appear cannot enter this place unless
you allow them to."
     "You know about the Senshi?"
     "The Raithe has been quite specific about their history in the
Senshi Wars, and their destined roles during the Messiah Wars. I
do, however, lament in that he has taunted me at every possible
turn. I may be this castle's consciousness, but even I can only
extrapolate so far."
     Setsuna rolled her eyes. "Hai hai, that sounds like him."
     She began walking down the grand hall, looking at the vastness
of space the view had to offer. In all honesty, she had to admit it
felt awkward talking to a disembodied voice. But at this point in
time, she wondered if bringing up the subject might somehow hurt
"its" feelings.
     "So...what do I call you?" she ventured.
     Evidently this thing, this place, this whatever-it-was had its
own self-aware intelligence. Setsuna deemed it insulting to merely
address it like it was a machine.
     "The Raithe always called me a pain for getting on his back
all the time," the voice stated. It remained for the most part
indifferent, but she could hear the hidden exasperation. "I do so
hope this trend will not continue with you."
     Setsuna couldn't help but smile and laugh.
     This consciousness certainly had personality.
     "I would prefer you referred to me as Charon," the voice
continued. "And as my new master, I am at your services, Sailor
Pluto."
     "What can you do?" she asked.
     "What do you want?"
     That took her aback. And in all honesty, she wasn't sure how
to respond to that. It momentarily sounded as if Charon was near-
omnipotent.
     "My apologies," Charon said, apparently sensing her sudden
discomfort. "It would take too long for me to elaborate on all of
my possible functions. If there is something you seek, for now the
fastest method is to simply ask if it is within my parameters to do
it."
     Sounded simple enough.
     But Setsuna still found herself a little leery.
     She continued down the hall, the sound of her boots against
the polished floor. Well-trimmed plants lined the metal framework
of the hall, a few other potted trees blooming in the centre of the
vast promenade. 
     "You mentioned something about 'Messiah Wars'. What are they?"
     "I'm afraid I cannot answer that as completely as you would
like me to, Sailor Pluto."
     "Please," she said. "Setsuna's fine."
     Again Charon seemed to pause in awkward consideration. "Hai.
Setsuna, as far as I am aware, we are in the Messiah Wars right
now. The destruction of Aurora marked the war's official beginning.
The only other data I have is based on various archival resources
from the Ancients, and intercepted reports coming from the Golden
Empire."
     "Show me those," she stated, pausing in the middle of the
corridor. 
     "There's a lot of information to process."
     Her eyes narrowed. "Can you filter it, then? Look for anything
indicating the source of Aurora's destruction."
     "Ah, you seek the Dark Messiah."
     Abruptly a series of lights came on, providing just enough
illumination to reveal a curving staircase amidst everything else.
The overall quiet and midnight ambience was not spoiled by the
sudden glow.
     "This way," Charon instructed her. "When you reach the top of
the stairs, go to the hallway on your left. At the end of it,
you'll find the doorway leading into my command centre."
     Setsuna nodded, though unsure if Charon would actually
register that as a response, and moved to the stairway. She took a
moment at the height of the stairs to glance back at the promenade
behind her. From this vantage point, the grand hall looked even
larger than before. And incredibly peaceful, if not idyllic.
Someone had gone through a lot of work to make her--or at least,
the one in her position--comfortable.
     The left corridor was taken.
     The architecture was still fashioned to give an expansive
feeling, large slender windows on one side of the corridor looking
out into space. Setsuna could see her guardian planet from here.
Magenta eyes glanced up, and saw the glass windows neatly curving
to become one with the ceiling as well as the walls. There was in
actuality no glass; just the metal framework and a large space
where a viewing port would be. It looked as if there was nothing
separating her from the vacuum beyond. Setsuna found that more than
a little disconcerting.
     The hallway rounded a corner, and then came to an abrupt end.
On three of the four walls there were only minimal supports neatly
dividing the open spaces. To her right was the doorway. But before
stepping through, Setsuna had to indulge her curiousity--as well as
quell her fears.
     A gloved hand hesitantly reached out to where some form of
glass should have been. The air abruptly rippled when her
fingertips brushed against it, flowing sluggishly like viscous
water. She could feel her skin tingling from the touch, a small
charge of magik flowing through her hand. This magik was forming a
transparent barrier that no doubt enclosed the entire castle.
     So that was how she could live out here without windows.
     Not sure if that had entirely put her concerns to rest,
Setsuna turned to the door. The door flickered out of existence,
revealing an open archway for her to cross through.
     The other side held some spectacular wonders in and of itself
for her to behold; the time guardress stopped on her second step,
looking around Charon's command centre. The ceiling was high,
archways not unlike what she had seen on the promenade sloping to
meet at a central focal point; overhead was another exotically-
designed dome.
     Consoles, some free-standing and others built into the walls,
were everywhere. The free-standing ones formed a semi-circle around
a large viewscreen built into the wall, leaving an abnormally large
amount of walking space in the main area. Setsuna glanced over her
shoulder, and saw that the wall directly opposite the grandiose
screen was nothing but glass for an aquarium.
     As far as she could tell, while the aquarium was extremely
long and high, it was only few inches wide. That didn't seem to
stop the numerous undersea wildlife from swimming around in the
clear waters, and amidst the coral reef located at the bottom.
Setsuna studied the detail of the aquarium.
     "That's not real, is it?" she said. There was too much depth
in what she was seeing to be contained in a chamber this compact.
     "It is a projection," Charon admitted. "However, it's very
close to the real thing."
     Setsuna reached out and once again probed the surface with her
hand. Yet this time no resistance was found and her fingertips
slipped into the aquarium. The glove got wet, and numerous smaller
fish instantly scattered at the disturbance. She withdrew her hand,
puzzling over how this was possible.
     "I told you," Charon said, sounding almost smug. "However, we
can discuss the aquarium later. You wished to see the information
on the Dark Messiah?"
     She nodded.
     Dark Messiah...the Raithe had called Mistress 9 by that title
as well. Something vaguely familiar about that title, about this
entire situation, nagged at her. What wasn't she seeing?
     Abruptly the chamber was filled with cascades of images.
Magenta eyes narrowed as she surveyed the multitude of viewscreens
all around her. None really seemed fixed to the walls, even the
larger ones. Everything gave a perfect image of whatever she was
watching, yet the screen itself was but a sliver in the air. A few
random ones were rotating in place, giving way to a dizzying sight
as one perspective constantly changed angles.
     "These are interactive screens," Charon explained. "Everything
responds with the lightest of touches."
     One image was a cosmic map that was just as tall as she was,
and far far wider, showing the various planets of the Solis system.
Orbital pathways, various small dots with their
identifications...and a strange violet marker which originated from
the asteroid fields of Aurora, moving directly to--
     "Earth," she said grimly.
     "A short time ago, a transmission from a Mars attack squadron
reported the Dark Messiah in Earth's proximity," Charon said. "The
commander ordered them to engage her. They haven't been heard from
since, and are presumed dead."
     She spent a few moments in silence, musing the details over to
herself. 
     "Charon, can you see into the future?" 
     She figured it was a question at least worth venturing; Charon
seemed well-briefed on the situation at hand--especially the more
abstract angles relating to the timestream.
     "I'm afraid only the guardian of time has that privilege. As
far back as my own memories go, I was constructed sometime during
the Senshi Wars by unknown people. I am merely here to act as a
base of operations, and an exhaustive archive on the history of the
Solis system since I was brought online. I can extrapolate events
and outcomes, but the further into the future I go, the less
accurate I become."
     Somehow she had been expecting that answer.
     Her onee-san seemed quite specific about who was chosen to
stand vigil over the tides of time. For a long while, she had
believed she was the only one. Now it appeared the Raithe played a
larger role in this duty than she had imagined.
     She turned sideways to look at another screen. It was a dimly
lit bedchamber, exquisitely decorated. She could see in the
background an oval window looking out into an undersea empire.
Neptune? 
     But the two young ladies seated on the bed were what caught
Setsuna's attention. "Who are they?" she asked. She was certain she
had seen them before, but with all the faces she had seen since
arriving in the Golden Empire, everything was becoming one big
blur.
     Charon paused to do a brief scan of the image. "Princesses of
Neptune and Uranus, two of the outer planets in the Solis system." 
     She nodded. "I remember now. I met the Neptuni princess about
five years ago, when their delegation visited Aurora."
     One of Setsuna's eyebrows went up as she saw the two cuddling
in their quiet moment. As much of an uproar as it might cause, she
considered the idea of the two being lovers as just what their
warring worlds needed. In her time spent on Aurora, watching over
Hotaru, she had come to learn of the conflict between Uranus and
Neptune--and subsequently with the rest of the Golden Empire.
Reading about this ongoing cold war was an exhausting exercise unto
itself.
     "Oh," Charon added, almost as an afterthought. "They are also
Sailor Senshi."
     The soul of the castle didn't seem to find this revelation
surprising in the least; that nonchalance with which it delivered
the identities of the two women was what made Setsuna's eyes nearly
bulge out of their sockets. She could hardly keep her voice lowered
and calm. 
     "They're...what?" she asked, wanting to make sure she had
heard right.
     "Hmmm...perhaps I should have given you suitable warning about
that first," Charon considered, more to itself than to her.
"Sincerest apologies; getting accustomed to a new master will take
time. I've only known the Raithe and his methods. And he's known
about these two for...decades, I think. Quite possibly longer."
     "It's okay. Really," she reassured the castle. The shock was
dying down, replaced with a new rush of adrenaline and excitement.
All this time she had been watching and waiting for other Senshi.
At last the soldiers were awakening.
     Magenta eyes studied the contrast of characters.
     The tall sandy-blonde looked every part the masculine military
leader Uranus prided itself on fashioning. And yet this woman
melted into sublime compassion when in the embrace of the aqua-
haired princess. One whose demeanor in but a single glance of the
eyes dripped with refinement, like it was an intoxicating perfume.
     Setsuna was almost reluctant to ask, fearing a negative
answer. So much was at stake already; allies were desperately
needed. "Do they...?"
     "Hai," Charon answered. "They've known for years now about
their roles. And with the Dark Messiah's arrival, the time has come
for them to take up the duties of the Outer Senshi."
     Setsuna scowled, a pang of frustration rising within her. To
have the power to gaze into their world, their private chambers,
and still be unable to do anything about that. Warn them, tell them
of what was happening, reveal that they were not alone in their
struggle.
     "If only I could bring them here," she muttered.
     Charon said nothing in response.
     And then abruptly, "Done."
     Setsuna froze, an expression of mixed confusion and disbelief
on her face as she slowly turned away from the screen. "Wh-What?"
she said.
     "You requested they be brought here," Charon said matter-of-
factly. "And since they are Outer Senshi, it is within my powers to
do so. They await you in the promenade."
     She groaned, shaking her head. "Next time, warn me when you're
going to do something like that."
     While she wasn't sure if she really meant it to be, her tone
was very much a scolding one. Setsuna could have sworn she saw a
sweatdrop hovering next to one of the screens.
     "Um...sorry." Charon sounded more than just a little
embarrassed.
     "I'll just assume it's a habit you've picked up from the
Raithe, and leave it at that," she said, briskly exiting the room. 
     "You'll have no qualms with me there," Charon said, sounding
relieved. There was quiet in the room for a while longer as
Setsuna's echoing footsteps faded into silence. The door
reappeared, closing off the command centre. One by one, the
cascades of hovering screens were turned off.
     And somewhere from within the mechanics of the castle's core
consciousness, a wistful sigh was made.
     "Admit it," the Raithe said, abruptly emerging from the very
air. Starlit eyes glanced up at the dome and the cosmos beyond it.
"You like her."
     "I admire the fact that she treats me as an equal, and doesn't
tease me about the future," Charon retorted. "She also has nice
legs."
     "Ecchi."
     Retorted Charon, "Oh, and I suppose your interest in her is
purely professional?"
     A chuckle came from the Raithe as he turned to the primary
viewscreen. Robes of darkness fluttered around his form with each
minute action. "Ara ara," he conceded. "You have me there."


     The moon's rays were covering the forest in a delicate glow
that night, as the hour of the Elven approached. Midnight. For
countless hours the two had ventured deeper and deeper into the
heart of this forest that was a part of Kakkyou's home. 
     Elfhame was not too far away now; he could hear the distant
din of crashing breakers that marked the bluffs separating the
mainland from the isles of Arana. Soon they would reach the cliffs
and descend through the forest into Elven domain.
     "It's good to be back," he said, shedding the vest and its
long tails. Bare-chested, he allowed the winds to sweep past him,
skin tingling at the caress.
     Wiping the beads of sweat from his brow, Kakkyou marveled at
how cool the forest air was--and that even with it being this cool,
he could still sweat so easily. He glanced back up at the moon, and
could have sworn he saw a shadow on its surface smiling back down
on him. Kakkyou blinked, shaking logic back into his brain.
     Dragon green eyes glanced back at Serenity.
     She was just standing there, smiling fondly at him.
     He couldn't help but suspect she found something about this
amusing. "What is it?"
     "You," she answered. "I can see your eager anticipation in the
way you keep darting ahead, in how you seem to be breathing as if
for the first time. You're acting like an excited child."
     He gawked, the expression on his face betraying the fact that
he couldn't think of anything to say to her in response.
     "I think it's cute," she added.
     Kakkyou blinked again.
     It took him another few moments to gather his wits, and think
of a proper retort. A smile tugged at his lips. "You must be
hungry," he said. "We haven't eaten much since leaving GlenHawke."
     He continued to step closer to her, eyes fixated on hers.
There was a strange intensity to his gaze. Uncertain of what he was
going to do, Serenity found herself taking a step back. Her cheeks
grew flushed as their faces came closer and closer still. She could
feel his warm breath surging against the cool night air.
     Elven hands were raised between them, palms so close to her
cheeks. He never let his gaze slip, jade eyes focused entirely on
her and her alone. And then with a rapid snap of the wrist, an
apple appeared in Kakkyou's palm. His dead serious demeanor
vanished, a playful smirk on his face as he presented the fruit to
her. 
     "For you, Serenity," he said. He winked at her.
     Serenity's face blushed even more, her entire thought process
faltering. She could have sworn he was going to kiss her. And now
that he hadn't, merely teasing her with the idea, a part of her
felt angry at being denied a taste of his lips. The other part of
her was relieved that his determined stare was merely a ruse.
     Love seemed to be something whose strings the Elven race
excelled at pulling. Though because it was Kakkyou, she didn't
complain. This was, for lack of a better definition, his way of
flirting.
     He took a few steps back, rotating his wrists as if to show
there was nothing he was concealing. That in itself would have been
an impressive feat, considering how his shirt and vest were draped
over a tree branch. Another quick gesture resulted in a second
apple appearing in his palm.
     Kakkyou flashed her an impish grin as he waved his other hand
in front of the apple. The hand was drawn away, only to reveal a
bird of prey that rose up and spread its wings. The falcon took to
the air, disappearing amidst the canopy of foliage over their
heads.
     Again he brought his hands in front of his face, one on top of
the other, concealing his features. The sides of his palms against
each other, he held the makeshift facade there for but a heartbeat.
And then he swiftly pulled them apart. One hand was drawn upwards,
the other down. 
     Everything came in a rapid blur.
     And over Kakkyou's face was a whitened mask, accented with
streaks of crimson painted on to form intricate Elven runes. He
leaned forward, hands gesturing to inquire of the performance.
Serenity was unable to say anything, shaking her head and laughing
at the spectacle. She was too amazed with this Elven slight of hand
to give him any worthy verbal praise. Other students at GlenHawke
were studying such Shadowspell techniques, but none had ever been
as fast and effective as the one standing before her now.
     Kakkyou chuckled to himself as he removed the mask, abruptly
crushing it into a ball like it was a mere scrap of paper. He
waited for a moment with the crumpled mask nestled in his fist
before opening up his hands to reveal just the night air.
     "Parlour tricks," he admitted, walking up to her. "Even Elven
children know how to do this. I'd show off a little more to you,
but I'd need more room."
     Serenity laughed. "That's fine." 
     She took a bite of her apple.
     And then Kakkyou abruptly leaned forward and gently kissed her
on the cheek. "I'd do anything to see your smile," he whispered,
confiding in her.
     The colour in her face went flushed once more. She turned her
face, letting her lips find his. The forest faded into a dull
memory as they kissed, and then reluctantly drew apart.
     Crystal blue eyes were shimmering as she watched the Elven
lord glance over his shoulder at the surrounding vegetation.
Whenever she was with him, there was always a warmth within, a
kindling reminiscent of that stranger power she seemed to secretly
possess.
     A magik that wanted to be awakened.
     Perhaps her lover was the key to this.
     Serenity turned her head as a small flying rodent soared past
her, chattering as it darted back into a tangle of tree branches
and vines. 
     "I'll be right back," the Elven lord said to her, fetching his
attire.
     Putting his shirt back on, Kakkyou leaped towards one of the
larger branches that could hold his weight. The Elven magik burned
in his veins, a few flickers appearing beneath his boots as he took
off into air, effortlessly bounding up to the highest points of the
forest. 
     He gazed out through the treetops, appraising the distance
left to Elfhame. From here he could see much of the mountain range
that laid around them, a vast expanse of lush green vegetation, a
virgin realm untouched by the hands of human civilization. This was
one of the last pure realms of magik.
     Glancing back up at the sky, he sighed as he watched the moon.
The lunar body in a darkened sky shone its pale kiss down on him.
Kakkyou wrinkled his brow at the thought. "Serenity," he said
quietly to himself.
     He could have traveled from GlenHawke to Elfhame in a matter
of an hour or two; it was a part of his Elven powers to run with
the winds. That was how he usually journeyed whenever he had
visited Serenity in the past.
     But now...now she was with him, and he wanted to keep this
time as eternal as possible. Let the hours pass them by in a quiet
and unhurried walk through this tangle of forestworld. He didn't
care.
     All that mattered was Serenity.


     Beneath the deception of Ilsa Esylin's faded guise lurked
another kingdom. Veiled in Shadowspell and darkest of secrets, it
remained a realm of stone caverns and strange, labyrinthine rivers
of flowing water.
     Morgana was seated upon her throne, legs strewn about and
draped over the armrests, a hand hanging over one side. She idly
let her fingers dip into a channel of water that was defying
physics in flowing through air, without borders or difficulty. In
her other hand she held her caduceus. 
     The ancient sceptre's diamond sparkled in the dim light of her
throne room, shimmers catching the glow of the twin moons high
overhead. Her own sapphiric eyes watched the light play off the
gem's facets with mild interest.
     It was only a matter of time now.
     She continued to wait in her own private silence.
     Eyes of sapphire blue closed.
     And remained so even when something rustled within the
boundaries of this hidden world. Winds blew through the throne
room, quiet yet cold in their ominous motions. And then a lone
woman entered from beneath one of the enormous stone archways.
Violet eyes pierced the surrounding shadows, long dark hair flowing
behind her. Black marble, veins laced in crimson, echoed the sound
of the newcomer's unhurried footsteps. 
     Morgana smiled.
     "Ah, you've arrived," she said, opening her eyes.
     Before her, Silence Glaive in hand, stood Mistress 9.
     "You...you were the one who sent me a message of greetings as
I came to this world," Mistress 9 stated, both suspicious and
disliking of Morgana already. "You sought out my mind and my magik.
How did you know about me?"
     Morgana withdrew her fingers from the floating river, sat up
in her throne. Once more the demure smile presented itself, the
implied shimmer in her eyes betraying how much she knew about the
face of darkness. "Is that any way to talk to the one who helped
create you?"
     That seemed to get Mistress 9 all the more defensive. "What
would know about me?" she demanded. Her tone was even and cold,
something not to be taken lightly.
     "You were once a little girl named Hotaru," came the answer.
"Yet I have brought into bloom a beautiful flower of darkness. And
here you are: a seductive woman, who has the power to destroy an
entire planet if she so wishes."
     There came with that a subtle reminder of a debt. A respecting
of the demands made by she who might call herself "mother" to the
Dark Messiah.
     "What do you want?" Mistress 9 demanded.
     "What is rightfully mine," Morgana replied. She rose from her
throne, approaching the Messiah of Silence. "My brother, Arthur,
has fumbled with this empire long enough. He's afraid of what he
has built, like it might crumble into dust if he holds it too
tightly. The Solis system does not need such weakness in its ruler.
He believes diplomacy will work every time, that leaving me alone
is a solution unto itself."
     Sapphire blue eyes gazed darkly at Mistress 9 as Morgana
paused before her, and then moved towards one of the fountains.
     "I killed his beloved wife with a knife laced with Shokkan
poison...and what did he do? Nothing. He did nothing but mourn for
her. He couldn't even bring himself to hunt me down."
     The Silence Glaive was switched from being in the grip of one
hand, and into the other. Mistress 9 leaned slightly against the
polearm, her long raven-dark hair fluttering from the breezes in
the caverns.
     "You wish for his death."
     The thought of taking another life seemed to excite her;
Mistress 9 smiled, giggling to herself.
     Morgana nodded. "I want him silenced. Permanently. His dying
empire shall become mine, and I will breathe new life into it." She
smiled, glancing back over her shoulder to Mistress 9. "And you, my
dear, are going to help the Solis system realize that I alone am
worthy of ruling it."
     Morgana let her palm hover over the surface of the water.
Ocean liquids rippled and then bubbled, churning and bringing up a
whitened froth. With the front came a ghostly image: a map of the
country, small yet three-dimensional. And more exact than any other
map, courtesy of her skilled invocation.
     She gestured for Mistress 9 to join her.
     "I shall begin mobilizing my forces towards the capital city
of Camelot," she stated. "We'll naturally take the time to wipe out
a few small cities along the way--but when you reach Camelot, I
don't want a single stone burned or broken."
     "Why?"
     It was a simple question. Any child could have asked it.
     But coming from the Dark Messiah, the question was laced with
a defiant evil, daring Morgana to find a reason to actually leave
something standing in Mistress 9's lethal wake.
     "What was once Arthur's shall become mine," Morgana said, her
tone menacing enough. "That means his throne, his kingdom and his
beloved city."
     The Messiah of Silence looked away. "I have my own
obligations."
     "Your duty to me comes first," Morgana countered. Her own
fierce glare could have easily matched that of the Dark Messiah's.
"Without me, you would have never come into being. Do this, and you
will be released from my services."
     Mistress 9 appraised her silently.
     As a predator might sum up the skills of its prey.
     "What do you wish for me to destroy first?" she asked at last.
     Morgana pointed to a specific place on the map, her touch
causing the image to change into a three-dimensional view of the
city in question. "Hakkeda," she stated. "Word of its destruction
will spread faster than if we destroyed any other minor city."
     "It shall be done," Mistress 9 said, bowing slightly.
     "I'll be sending a small garrison of my Shadow army to escort
you," Morgana added, still focused on the cityscape of Hakkeda.
"However, they will remain at the city outskirts. I'm entrusting
you to work your blak magik on its heart."
     Again Mistress 9 bowed in compliance. "Have them ready in a
few hours. There is something I need to investigate first, and then
I shall begin your conquest."
     Violet eyes looked to a darkened corridor. The Dark Messiah
turned and began to exit the throne room.
     Morgana watched the woman leave; she could not help but marvel
at the terrifying powers this messiah held. The winds and darkness
could sense it, and were afraid.
     Mistress 9 faded into the shadows, leaving Morgana alone.
     Or perhaps not.
     The edges of darkness within the throne room began to move of
their own desires. Something shifted in the blackened realms behind
her. Magik rustled, and hissed a warning.
     "I don't care whether or not you trust her," Morgana said,
scowling over her shoulder at the churning darkness. "She's a means
to an end. Once she kills Arthur and wipes out his armies, I can
take his place. Mistress Nine will ensure the other planets follow
my orders. And then, Metalia, you will be freed...and you can
destroy that woman at your leisure."


     The Man With No Name dodged a stray blast of fire as a
pyromage performed his singeing feats before an entranced audience.
Those who dared to be so close to raging fireballs seemed to be the
ones with the most cash to spend on the thrill of an adrenaline
rush.
     They should try riding a rampaging dragonwyrm.
     He had become submerged within a large, expansive and very
lively crowd that was dancing the remainder of the night away.
Enchanted lights of all colours made the street a surreal realm as
masquerade dancers pranced and paraded down the cobblestone paths.
     An aquamage was conjuring up shapes and images using the water
from one of the nearby fountains. The water fluttered and slowly
rose to form the image of a swam. That performer received numerous
applauds and coins for his efforts.
     Hakkeda's revelry passed before his eyes in a forgettable
blur, and so he moved through the crowds like a disappearing dream.
Clouded eyes saw nothing and everything all at once, the rippling
folds of his long overcoat making him a shadow unto himself.
     No one seemed to notice that one of his hands was still
covered in the dried blood of a now-deceased thief. The Jabberwocky
might have destroyed a small district with its ravaging appetite,
yet the rest of the city still had reason to celebrate. 
     The Man With No Name glanced over at another performance up on
one of the stone dais beside the fountains, raised a few feet above
the regular street to give the audience a chance to see the magic.
It was a more exotic act that all the others. One magician was
talking and jesting with the crowd, pleasing them greatly. She
herself seemed exotic, and very bewitching to the male onlookers.
     But it was her associate who caught the Man With No Name's
attention. This partner of sorts started out as a young man. He
watched as, upon the lady magician's command, a crystal ball was
thrown and exploded into a stream of smoke. The young man was
enveloped in the cloud of smoke, only to have it dissipate a split
second later. The young man was replaced with a falcon. Another
crystal ball was thrown, and the falcon morphed into a long,
slender dragon. 
     The Man With No Name detected something about this other
person; a dark aura surrounded them. There was more than mere
illusion. This person or creature was wielding powerful magic.
     A shape shifter.
     Yet not one whom he was searching for.
     The dragon disappeared in a stream of smoke once more, and
assumed to form of a large, white tiger. The crowd cheered and
applauded. The Man With No Name moved on. He could feel a strange
electricity in the air, magik itself on edge in anticipation.
     They were coming soon.
     The Outer Senshi.
     And something else....
     The Man With No Name abruptly turned his head, looking to the
horizon that would soon see the sunrise. "Shadows," he whispered.
He extended his middle finger, used it to push the tinted lenses
back up the bridge of his nose. "So the Dark Messiah wishes to
claim this place as her own twisted graveyard."
     He opened up his palm, watching the black fires crackle over
his skin. The Jabberwocky was still hungry, and let that fact be
known by a low, guttural growl.
     "Patience," the Man With No Name said, closing his hand and
extinguishing the flame. "We must wait for our escort first. And
then you can feed."


     The fishbone-white hair was gone, as was the guise of a
wizened old mage. Instead the Ancient who appeared as young as any
fit prince stood before one of his tables. Eyes hiding a
multiplicity of lifetimes and their secrets narrowed as another
futile solution ended.
     And with an enraged shout, Merlin viciously swept his hand
across the table, throwing its contents onto the floor. Glass
shattered and books toppled over and magik winced from the harsh
blow. Camelot's private chambers were allowing him to fume without
witnesses. The only ones who could interrupt him in this state were
the other Ancients...and they were all dead now.
     As one of the most powerful wielders of magik on the planet,
he had been able to track the Dark Messiah's descent into the
atmosphere. But then she simply vanished from all his senses. Even
he, an Ancient, could no longer find her. For hours he had been
making attempt after vain attempt to harness whatever magik he
knew, and draw out any residual traces this woman might have left
behind.
     So far, nothing had worked.
     Millions of Aurorans had already died. And unless he could
find something to help Arthur fight this evil, Earth would be
consumed next in a tide of darkness and destruction. Merlin refused
to let any more people die in vain.
     The tragedy of an entire world could have been prevented.
     If only....
     If only....
     "Hello, Merlin."
     Merlin spun around, leveling a hard punch to the Raithe's
cheek. "I have nothing to say to you!" he hissed, intuitively
knowing who had abruptly appeared to visit him.
     Right now he was frantically working to counteract everything
the Raithe had set into motion. And yet as he saw the Raithe's eyes
filled with starlit heavens, the Ancient showing no signs of pain
from the strike, Merlin knew he could not justly condemn those
actions.
     And for that he hated the Raithe.
     The metal rings of the Raithe's shakujyo chimed together as he
straightened himself up. "I know," he said, lifting a hand and
lightly touching his bruised cheek. "You want to turn away, scorn
me, hate me for what I've done. But you cannot look away because
you know that I did this for the future. You are burdened just as
I am, and you cannot condone my actions because you know why I have
done them."
     Merlin turned his back, leaning against the table. Since he
couldn't bring himself to glare at the Raithe, he opted to glare at
the cleared tabletop. "Insensitive bastard," he muttered.
     "I have seen more people live and die than you could imagine,"
the Raithe stated. "The tides of time are merciless, Merlin. In
remaining distant, I am able to complete some of the most hellish
tasks ever set before a single soul."
     "Like unleashing that woman?" Merlin retorted angrily.
     The Raithe nodded. "Hai. Believe me, the last thing I ever
wanted was to see Aurora and her people destroyed. There's nothing
more I can say to make amends for what I did. But what must be done
must be done."
     Merlin forced back another urge to lash out and strike the
Raithe. He slowly turned to face the only other Ancient left alive.
"For the sake of the future?" he asked, if not demanded.
     Again the Raithe nodded.
     But kept silent.
     Neither one spoke. They simply watched the other. 
     Merlin's eyes still possessed the anger of watching a world
burn, an enmity directed towards the Raithe. He was determined to
undo what had been done, no matter what the sacrifice might be.
     But there was an eerie remorselessness in the Raithe's cosmic
orbs, attesting to his statement that he had become a cold stoic in
order to allow Aurora's demise. And yet, Merlin could see the
traces of humanity that were left within the ghostly figure
standing before him.
     "Your friend visited me," he said finally, in response to the
silence. "I have seen the future you wish to shape; Sailor Pluto
showed it to me." He paused. Hesitated. "And I do not see either of
us within it."
     The Raithe looked away.
     As if something in one of the vast corners of Merlin's domain
had caught his immediate and full attention. The unspoken answer
was one he seemed to prefer to remain unspoken. 
     "We're not going to make it, are we?" Merlin pressed.
     The Raithe shook his head.
     Such a prospect no one ever wanted to face; life was precious,
and many would cling to it and claw at it until the bitter end. But
they were Ancients, ones who had seen countless years pass them by.
They understood the significance of change, and with it the
inevitable termination of their own lives--but they still didn't
have to agree with the end when the time at last came.
     The Raithe's eyes returned to gaze at Merlin, orbs reflecting
dozens of beautiful and haunting constellations amidst an eerie
darkness. "We have a choice," he said. "Our ends are inevitable,
but we have the chance to let it end as we would want it to be."
     "And what will yours be?"
     "Poetic. Ironic. Either one doesn't really matter to me. I'll
let those who come after me decide for themselves." The Raithe drew
closer to Merlin, his voice quiet and solemn. "For once, time is
not on my side. I have seen the beginning of this war, and you,
Merlin, must help see it finished."
     He paused briefly.
     "This will be our last duty to fulfil as Ancients, as the
unsaid guardians of the Solis system."
     Neither one spoke of who would take up the responsibility of
watching over this system after they were gone. Both already knew;
Merlin understood after meeting with Pluto, and the Raithe perhaps
always understood it.
     The Sailor Senshi were returning.
     There was no longer a need for the Ancients.
     "Any ideas what happens after this?" Merlin inquired.
     The Raithe shrugged. "I pick the lock into heaven, and we
sneak in through the back gates?" he ventured.
     Merlin found the will to laugh, though it was a bitter one.
"When the time comes, I'll take the point."
     That in turn evoked a chuckle from the Raithe. "Hai hai."
     For now, most of the tension in the air between them was
breaking apart. But there were still other matters to discuss of
the utmost urgency.
     "So what do we do in the meantime?" Merlin inquired, waving
his hand in the air. A projection appeared between them, a rotating
image of Arthur's home country. "Rumours are filtering in that
Morgana has begun mobilizing her biggest offensive yet. Looks like
she's ready to take full advantage of the confusion caused by the
Dark Messiah's arrival.
     "I hope you have some sort of idea, Raithe," he admitted.
"I've been here for hours and come up with nothing. Our best bet
thus far is to ensure Camelot is armed to the teeth; I've already
send word to the surrounding provinces to prepare themselves for
war."
     "Iie. Morgana has recruited the Dark Messiah into her ranks."
Eyes of midnight heavens closed momentarily. "It is not your place
to fight Mistress Nine; she is too powerful. However, the Messiah
of Light is here on Earth."
     Merlin felt a chill run down his spine, an uneven mixture of
excitement and fear. "What?" he said, wanting more than those few
enigmatic words.
     But the Raithe had already turned around and was walking away.
The rings of his shakujyo echoed across the chambers. "Protect her
when you find her, Merlin. Guard her with your last breath and
magik. For she is the beginning of the future, and the end of the
Messiah Wars."
     And then he was gone.
     Merlin exhaled through his nose, his shoulders sagging a
little. "It always has to be the hard way whenever you're
involved," he remarked dryly.
     Everything was falling apart around them; the Dark Messiah had
appeared, Aurora was destroyed, Morgana's armies were on the move,
and the Golden Empire seemed to be at its tragic end.
     But there was hope now.
     And no matter how small it might be, he would cling to it
until it could become a reality.


     Haruka didn't seem to be letting the tension in her body ease
up. And Michiru could hardly blame her lover. One moment they were
lightly brushing lips in eager anticipation of one last kiss. And
then suddenly this domain replaced the undersea serenity of
Neptune's palaces.
     Princesses stood in a grand hall whose walls curved into
archways of strange and elaborate designs. And yet everything
resembled a skeletal framework, this promenade area left open and
expansive in its own serene beauty.
     "I don't see any windows," the tall, sandy-blonde stated, blue
eyes looking upwards to the heavens above. "So how can we be still
breathing?"
     "There are many mysteries in this universe, love," Michiru
answered quietly. "It would appear one has decided to seek us out."
     Though they were facing different directions, their hands
reached out and grasped the other's. Oblivious to their edginess,
the water from a small fountain nearby continued to flow with a
soothing, constant sound.
     "My apologies for the abruptness of your arrival," a female's
voice said, pleasant and echoing across the grand corridor.
     Their mysterious host appeared.
     She walked slowly down a set of stairs, her skin tanned and
her hair long and dark, shimmering almost as emerald in the evening
ambience created by the cosmic folds around the castle. She wore a
strange uniform of bows and pleated skirt, and in her hand was a
metallic staff forged to resemble a key.
     Haruka bristled at the source of this intrusion.
     She placed herself between the approaching woman and Michiru.
While she herself was not a young lady who would idly stand by in
pale fear, Michiru silently smiled at her lover's protective
heroism.
     They did not move, and did not speak.
     They merely waited for their hostess to stand before them.
     And give an explanation.
     "Sailor Uranus, Sailor Neptune; I bid you greetings," the
woman stated, bowing slightly. In those magenta eyes, in the entire
motion of her body, there was visible a deep respect for those
given titles. "Welcome to Castle Charon."
     The name of their newfound location fell upon deaf ears.
     Both princesses took the revelation rather well: they didn't
immediately attack their hostess. Haruka's eyes neither widened nor
narrowed, but the shock and subsequent defensiveness was still
there. Michiru herself sucked in her next breath and held onto it.
The embrace of their hands grew tighter.
     "What?" Haruka said, sounding about as civil as she possibly
could.
     "You have your henshin," the woman explained further,
unraveling with but a few simple words the secrets that had been
hidden over the course of many years. "You both know the soldier's
destiny awaiting you. I am here to show you what that destiny is,
for we are both fighting in the same battle."
     Michiru tried playing with diplomacy; she could sense her
lover's readiness to strike with whatever weapon could be found.
That included Haruka herself. "Are we to assume we share a common
interest?" the Neptuni princess inquired.
     The woman nodded. "Hai."
     She held out her key-shaped staff, the garnet orb glowing and
bringing a haunting shimmer to the otherwise dimly-lit promenade. 
     Haruka and Michiru felt their skin burn as the magik found
them. It was not like being of fire, subject to pain. This was a
different, an inferno consuming the heart of their beings. There
were no more secrets that could be hidden, no more dark places to
lock away the fears and doubts and excitement. Planetary runes
appeared on each of their foreheads, glowing brightly into the
night that was the darkness of space surrounding the castle.
     The tall sandy-blonde bore the mark of Uranus.
     The aqua-haired princess held that of Neptune.
     Everything suddenly became so clear in that moment, and both
turned to face the one who had invoked a power that was awakening
within them all. 
     Magenta eyes closed, and the tiara over the woman's forehead
vanished. In its place burned another planetary rune. The one of
Pluto. The guardress of time and its portal opened her eyes once
more, stared solemnly at the other Outer Soldiers.
     "I am Sailor Pluto," she stated. "The soldier of time."
     That quiet execution of her magik did more to convince Haruka
and Michiru than a century of words could have ever hoped to
achieve. Their anger and suspicions died down, and they were
willing to listen.
     And so Setsuna laid everything out before them.
     Aurora. 
     Mistress 9.
     The Grail.
     Throughout Setsuna's recounting, Haruka and Michiru listened
silently and held each other's hand. Neither one opened their
mouths to speak. Not until the explanation was at last finished.
     "So now what do we do?" Haruka asked.
     Michiru smiled, hands wrapped her lover's arm. "Darkness has
always had opposition, love. If we cannot destroy the Dark Messiah,
then we must find the one who can."
     Setsuna nodded in agreement. "It is up to us the find a
Messiah of Light, before all life in the Solis system is
extinguished forever."


     The rose garden was deserted.
     A sanctuary which had served to ease his tensions and pains
remained empty, the flowers inspiring only the light of the setting
sun. If one could sense the magik within the garden as one senses
a change in the warmth of the air, one would discover a certain
sadness possessed by the flowers. They could sense the brooding of
their lord and gardener. They remained acutely aware of the
pressures that were resting upon his shoulders.
     When such a time came to pass, Magellan found himself always
in one place. One place where everything could fall into some sort
of proper perspective, and where he could see past, present and
future all embodied within a majestic view of Vlatmere. Upon one of
the ledges, at one of the highest points on the castle, Magellan
sat. Legs dangled over the edge. A dizzying view and fatal fall
awaited him far below.
     Sprawled out before him was a castle and kingdom, and he could
see people scurrying through the streets like ants. Beyond the
grand walls laid open country and beautiful fields. Off to one
side, an immense cluster of trees testified the presence of a
forest within Vlatmere province. There were other forests to be
sure, yet those ones--darker and far deeper than this--remained
near the edges of his kingdom.
     Bangs of dark hair fluttered in the cool, evening winds, and
his eyes remained focused on the amber rose being absently played
with between his fingers.
     "Whenever I want to find you," came Frederic's voice from the
doorway. "All I have to do is follow the staircases. I'd swear you
were trying to make me exercise even more than I already do."
     Magellan smiled a little and turned his head. "Evening to you
too, Frederic."
     "You haven't been up here by yourself for quite a while,"
Frederic sighed, leaning against the longbow in his hands. "At
least, not since Myung showed up. Why restart the trend?"
     Magellan glanced back out at Vlatmere.
     After the data dive, Myung had been exhausted both physically
and mentally. She managed to reserve enough strength to recount
what had happened during the dive, and reveal what the locked files
in the Venus mainframe had to offer. Magellan had left her a few
hours ago in her private chambers to rest; as far as he was aware,
she was still sleeping.
     "You're still thinking about what she told us, aren't you?"
Frederic asked. "You're still thinking about the Senshi."
     "More about Chaos, to be exact," Magellan countered.
     Frederic strolled up to the edge, raising a hand in front of
his eyes to shield them from the autumn colours the sun was
painting across the expansive skies. "Chaos...not bad for a name:
short, dangerous, and to the point." He glanced over at Magellan.
"Evil yet practical," he remarked dryly.
     "There's a lot of information surrounding that Chaos creature
that has me concerned," Magellan said. Of primary significance to
them now was the history of the Sailor Senshi. There were sketchy
accounts of their origins, and most of their mentions centred
around the Senshi Wars.
     A battle across systems and cosmos.
     An ancient war fought against an entity called Chaos, which
could corrupt even the pure hearts of the Senshi. Soldier had
fought against soldier, with Chaos pulling many of the strings. The
legends had spoken of a stalemate and defeat--if one could call it
that--between Chaos and the most powerful Senshi in the galaxy.
Vague whispers of a battle upon a lifeless rock, and of Chaos'
presence simply vanishing, were all that remained to tell the
outcome of the tale. Yet even the soldier who fought against it had
disappeared, her whereabouts unknown also.
     Magellan continued to twirl the amber rose around his fingers.
Had there been thorns on the stem, his skill would have ensured the
jagged edges miss his fingers. "We're in over our heads, Frederic,"
he admitted. "I can barely comprehend what it must have been like
to have so many soldiers in the galaxy. Imagine what they knew
then."
     "It would no doubt pale to what we ourselves have already
accomplished," Frederic agreed soberly. "But remember that this is
a legend, a story taken from events centuries--and maybe even
millennia--ago. And unless I'm delusional, a lot's happened in the
past few hundred years. We've made progress, Magellan; given how
this system was seen as 'rural' by the other Senshi and left alone,
we should be proud of all we've done."
     "But that still doesn't explain how or why those henshins were
brought to the Solis System," Magellan countered. "There are no
indications that the Ancients were involved with it; for all we
know, this predated them."
     "Sometimes mysteries will forever remain that way," Frederic
said with a shrug. He turned to stare at the view of the kingdom.
"Get used to it. I have."
     There was silence from Vlatmere's king.
     "But that's not what's worrying you, is it?"
     Magellan nodded. Blue eyes narrowed. His fingers ceased
twirling the rose. "The Senshi came into being to fight against the
immense evils that were plaguing the galaxy, against creatures of
unspeakable darkness and power. We were untouched by these
wars...but someone still felt that there should be Senshi here.
Just in case the darkness decided to come our way, and annihilate
the peace we've struggled to establish. And now those Senshi have
started to awaken."
     If Myung was the first, then she would not be the last.
     Something was definitely unfolding before them, a chain of
events that would shake the entire Solis System to its very
foundations.
     Magellan spun and hopped off the ledge. "I fear for the
future, Frederic," he said solemnly. "And I can only hope and pray
that what's unfolding now isn't fulfilling that 'Just in case.'"


     "She's so strange."   
     Serenity bent her head, continuing to distantly hum a sad and
beautiful song--and wishing that she could ignore the whispering
voices as easily as she could entice the flowers to grow with her
gentle voice. 
     "What do you think it is?" a second Elven asked.
     The first shrugged. "Damned if I know. But it's powerful,
possibly moreso than what Kakkyou can wield."
     The two Elvens abruptly froze upon realizing their lord was
standing right behind him. And the expression on Kakkyou's face was
not a pleasant one.
     "I trust you have something more constructive to do with your
time," he remarked icily.
     "S-Sorry, Milord," the first stuttered, scurrying off.
     The second one merely raised an eyebrow before fading into the
shadows. As one who stood amidst the higher ranks of Elfhame, she
could get away with a seemingly rude exit. "You don't know either,
ne?" she inquired with a sly grin as she vanished.
     Kakkyou shook his head as he stepped over the entanglement of
roots, and hopped down onto the more level ground where Serenity
sat. It was hard to remember at times that this wasn't actual solid
earth, but moss, tree roots, and assorted other sands and stones
all caught up in Arana's continent of isles.
     The trees were tall here, towering high over their heads. A
canopy of innumerable shades of green kept out most of the sunlight
during the day. It didn't really matter; here the forest glowed
with a magik all its own.
     "Good evening, my love," Kakkyou said. He knelt down beside
her, took her hand in his and gently kissed it. A tribute to her
beauty, a gesture he seemed more comfortable in making now that
they were away from GlenHawke.
     Serenity smiled, crystal blue eyes catching the shimmer of
this place. Her blonde hair held the colour of gold itself, of a
priceless horde catching light in such a way that everything became
blurred, and all that could be seen was a simple yet brilliant
mirage.
     When he ran his fingers through her hair, he could still feel
the dampness from her swim about an hour ago. Arana held amidst the
tangle of trees and their roots a vast array of pools. The salt
water was purified by the forest and made drinkable. This was where
the Elven bathed, where they played, where they held their water
games with the water nymphs that frequented the larger pools.
     Kakkyou could have almost mistaken her for a mermaid, watching
her naked form glide effortlessly through the water. It was almost
frightening to see the water nymphs forming an escourt wherever she
swam; the nymphs rarely ever showed themselves in the presence of
a human.
     He knew it was all a part of her magik.
     After the Reptilius youma had attacked, he had ultimately
decided to take Serenity into Elfhame protection. And that meant
betraying his playful secret to the others like him. Kakkyou
ruefully thought back to the startled silence that had first washed
over the Elfhame council, and then over the Elvens themselves.
     An Elven prince in love with a human.
     The stunned quiet lasted only so long. It was immediately
replaced with grumblings by some, loud protests by others. Yet he
had made his decision. And in no uncertain terms, he addressed
those in Elfhame that unless they wished to challenge his
authority, they should shut the hell up. 
     No one brazenly stepped forward.
     Kakkyou was royal blood.
     On one hand, to attack royalty was treason punishable by
death. This, Kakkyou admitted to himself, was the argument he was
ready to use to ensure Serenity's safety among the Elven as well;
as his betrothed, she was already considered his Queen. To make an
attempt on her life would mean no mercy in return when it came to
retribution.
     And then on the other hand, Kakkyou's powers were known well
enough by the Elven. With his combined strength, fighting prowess
and use of magik, he had no equals here in Elfhame woods. The first
one deluded enough to try and fight him would have been pleasantly
wounded--but not killed.
     Kakkyou intended to make an example of his love.
     And dedication to protect her at all costs.
     "You must be hungry," he said. "I don't think you've eaten in
hours, and that swim must have done something for your appetite."
     Serenity laughed as she lightly ran her fingers along the stem
of a sleeping flower. The blossom opened with her caress, the
flower turning its coloured head towards her in recognition of the
one whose touch stirred it back to life. "Watching me bathe again,
Kakkyou?" she said coyly. "I never knew you were such a voyeur."
     For the first time since she had known him, Serenity saw the
Elven lord's face get flustered. His expression might have remained
unchanged, but his flushed cheeks and the way his eyes abruptly
darted as if looking for something else to focus his attention on,
betrayed him.
     That made her laugh all the more.
     And for that Kakkyou was silently grateful. Her transition
from GlenHawke to Elfhame was going smoother than he had expected,
or hoped.
     There had been a grand reception awaiting them when they at
last arrived in Elfhame. Aside from the obviously-absent perimeter
guards, everyone had come to see the young human with long blonde
hair, the girl who had thoroughly enchanted a near-legendary Elven
enchanter.
     No problems or protests had come as Kakkyou took Serenity's
trembling hand in his, and led her down a pathway. One lined with
Elven who bowed in reverence and respect for their prince. And
then, most unexpectedly, for her as well. Telling the Elven of her
strange, hidden magik did little good. Kakkyou knew it from the
start; they would only understand once they experienced what he had
felt one cool midnight sixteen years ago. When they sensed it as
she walked past them, felt it whenever she was in their presence,
the Elven race came to believe.
     Serenity had quickly become more than just a mere human to
them in the days and nights that had passed since the formal
reception of their Queen-to-be.
     And they respected Kakkyou's desire to marry her.
     Some now applauded it. Though not for all the same reasons. A
few believed Serenity was the key to the Elven race reclaiming that
which was rightfully theirs. Namely becoming the dominant race upon
the Earth. Kakkyou had no love for such a cause, and he knew
Serenity would share in his opinion.
     He pulled her up to her feet. "Now then, shall we see what
strange delicacies I can tantalize you with tonight?"
     "I'd be delighted," she replied, bowing slightly.
     They shared a chaste kiss, then journeyed into the heart of
Elfhame.
     Grand were the trees here, towering like spires on a castle.
Many had been hollowed out and furnished to accommodate the Elven
inhabitants of Arana's isles. Other Elven had made their homes in
the middle of the many skeins of roots this forest held in
abundance.
     And many more didn't keep what one might consider a home.
There was no permanent dwelling place to return to night after
night--though everyone had their favourite haunts. Elven are
wanderers by nature, thriving on fluidity and finding it best in a
game played with either humans or other Earth creatures. These
Elven rested in the branches of the trees, or else by the side of
a crystalline pool, or perhaps somewhere else that caught their
attention.
     The heart of the Arana was where the Elven race congregated,
and so while the entire forest might have been Elfhame territory,
only this place was called Elfhame.
     And tonight, Elfhame was celebrating.
     What the celebration was for, Serenity wasn't too sure.
Neither did anyone else for that matter. But no one seemed to mind,
and certainly none seemed to care. The mood this night was a
festive one, and she was invited to join them.
     A meal was set out near one of the larger freshwater pools.
Water nymphs frolicked and flirted with some of the Elven males,
trying to get their attention. 
     Serenity ate, and they all feasted.
     Kakkyou kept his promise to demonstrate more of his skills now
that he had more room. Dragons were conjured up from thin air; a
dozen Kakkyou's started to play a strange game of tag with each
other all around the trees; a hovering rose was set ablaze, the
fires abruptly breaking apart to become clouds of smoke that took
the form and shape of dancers.
     She was captivated as the wisps and trails of grey mist moved
to a rhythm matched by the flutes and stringed instruments being
played in the background. Somewhere in the middle of the meal,
Kakkyou revealed his own flute and piped a melody. He then left the
flute, which continued to hover and play its song, and invited her
to dance.
     It was awkward to admit this was her first time, especially in
such company. Yet Kakkyou refused to let her slip away, and moved
slowly so she could learn the motions. The music slowed to
accommodate them as well. And so they danced for much of the night.
     And somewhere along the way, the two lovers were left alone by
the Elven revelers. Music became a distant noise, and the forest
grew darker to feed their quiet mood. Songbirds chirped in the
absence of sound. The canopy of green overhead pulled away to
reveal the silent shimmer of the moon. It was brighter on this
night.
     A sign of her symbiotic magik.
     Serenity abruptly stopped dancing. Uncertain as to why, a look
of concern marred Kakkyou's expression. It melted away as she laced
her hands behind his neck, pushing the bangs of silver hair away
from his face.
     Crystal blue eyes looked up to the moon.
     Legend whispered of a magik between lovers that existed with
the moon. When two lovers were separated and gazed upon the same
moon on the same night, their voices would be heard in each other's
dreams. She wondered how many nights had been passed at GlenHawke,
where she had waited to hear his voice.
     Kakkyou looked back down at Serenity. 
     His bride, his beloved. 
     She looked up at him, her blue eyes quietly beckoning to him
as they always had and always would. Their faces drew closer
together, and each one closed their eyes as a bond that surpassed
all magik and science took control in their souls.     
     Time stood still.
     Their lips met, and gently they kissed.
     The moon began to glow with a fierce radiance, and the wind
rose up. The stars shone brighter, and the songbirds were quiet in
that moment.
     A moment of a kiss.
     An eternity of passion.
     A destiny of love.


     One might have hardly recognized the trio of wandering women
to be Sailor Senshi, let alone that two of them were planetary
princesses. Each one was dressed as they preferred, each in what
they deemed "civilian" clothes.
     Despite looking overdressed compared to the motley assortment
of revelers here in one of the crowded street parades, Setsuna felt
rather underdressed as she glanced over her shoulder at Haruka and
Michiru.
     The two were walking arm in arm, and for the most part Michiru
seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Haruka held a possessive
glare that directed itself upon anyone unlucky enough to let his or
her eyes fixate on Michiru for anything more than a mere passing
glance.
     A roving waiter carrying a tray of complimentary drinks
circulated the area. Not about to forgo the indulgence, Setsuna
managed to effortlessly grab hold of one of the champagne glasses
as he passed by. The drink itself held a surprisingly sweet taste,
bold and euphoric. An aphrodisiac fashioned to heighten the thrill
of the crowd.
     They had been here in Hakkeda for hours already. Aside from
simply touring the energetic streets beneath the lights of
countless coloured lanterns hanging overhead, the Outer Senshi had
accomplished little else.
     On the other hand, Michiru in her stunning Neptuni gown--a
haunting aqua-marine fabric which was near transparent--was
garnering quite the attention. Haruka's challenging glare managed
to keep any would-be suitors at bay.
     Setsuna couldn't help but smile to herself as she downed the
rest of the drink, and then set the glass aside on a nearby table.
     "The Messiah of Light isn't here," Haruka stated plainly,
never straying more than three or four steps behind Setsuna. She
scowled at the seeming futility of their mingling. "I can't sense
anything at all that might let us believe she would be in such a
place as this."
     The gregarious if not rowdy setting was evidently causing the
tall, sandy-blonde to bristle. More than likely due to the near
dozen, drunken proposals she had received for either a dance or
something a little more risqu‚. One particularly deserving
character managed to discover what it was like to have the Uranian
princess' fist send him pinwheeling into a patio table.
     Setsuna turned her head, long dark hair spilling down over her
shoulders with the movement. "Iie. There's something else." Magenta
eyes scanned the crowd from another angle, trying to discover the
enigma lurking somewhere in the city. "I don't know what it is, but
something's here...waiting for us."
     "I'd actually argue he's already found you," a new voice spoke
up. "What took you so long?"
     The three ladies turned their heads.
     Around them, the cheers of the crowd and music of the
performers grew to a dim background static.
     The Man With No Name stood between Haruka and Michiru, and
Setsuna. His long black redingote, the white cross shimmering in
the lanternlight, rustled as he took a step back and motioned with
his head for them to follow.
     A brief glance was given by Haruka, skeptical of this person
being the "something" in question they were searching for. Setsuna
quietly admitted she had her own doubts. Certainly he held that air
of mystery, and the dark attire he chose to wear added to whatever
secrets he was hiding, but he seemed too...too human. And in all
honesty, given past trends, she had expected to encounter another
female.
     Surprisingly, Michiru seemed most critical. "You're the one we
came here to find?" she remarked, not too impressed.
     The Man With No Name grinned, and ran his fingers through his
dark hair. "We have much to talk about, Senshi. We should adjourn
to a quieter place."


     It was almost midnight in the city square, where the moon
shone down upon a labyrinth of cobblestone paths mixed in with
green grass and mighty trees, sided with a calm, blue lake, and
surrounded by a mismatched set of building designs.
     There was no wind in the square; not a leaf even twitched
while it clung to its branch. The grass was still, the flowers in
their beds stood tall and unbending. The surface of the lake was
clear and untainted by waves. A few revelers had escaped from
Hakkeda's eternal celebration to seek time alone here. There was no
single person laughing quietly. 
     One cannot kiss alone.
     The hushed laughter from these couples only added to the calm
of the city square, the quiet that nobody wanted to break.
Somewhere in the distance the music and cheers of the rest of the
city could be heard--though it was a far away sound and thus never
given a second thought.
     Everyone went on kissing.
     Seducing.
     And then there was a breeze. Leaves rustled, flowers swayed,
water rippled. The breeze grew to a wind, and the wind grew to a
fierce gale that was limited only to the very heart of the city
square. A few pairs of lovers closest to the storm broke away from
one another's gazes, and watched with rapt fascination the latest
phenomenon to overtake Hakkeda.
     Suddenly an electrical bolt exploded from the trunk of a tree,
shooting across the cobblestone paths and striking another tree
trunk. A second burst of magik exploded from a lamppost, directing
itself to the cobblestone path.
     More furious arcs burst out from the ground and trees, drawing
towards a single place on the cobblestone path. They brushed
against each other, collided and fused, loud popping and hissing
coming from their activity. The square began to glow a brilliant
blue-white.  
     The pairs of lovers watching this spoke not a word, not a
laugh, and not a whisper.
     Amidst the glowing light and writhing magik, a figure began to
take form. As the shape became more defined, the magik shot out to
connect with it, feeding it. The form took an even more solid and
defined shape, until a woman's silhouette emerged.
     As abruptly as it had begun, the frenzy of dark magik stopped,
and once again the square was silent and still. The woman stood
straight and unmoving, her head bowed. The dying winds caught long
strands of raven-dark hair.
     Violet eyes opened, and the woman gave a savage smile.
     Mistress 9 took up her glaive.
     And prepared to reduce the city of Hakkeda to an ashen crater.


     They were standing in a deserted courtyard.
     Strange to think there could be any place in Hakkeda that was
without noise or noisy souls. Secluded behind a wall of stone
archways and a veil of hanging vines and flowers, this place beheld
a quiet beauty meant for a nobleman's family. The family was out
for the night. Perhaps dining, perhaps celebrating at the mansion
of another as rich as they were.
     He had led them here, moving as they would, bounding across
walls and rooftops as if gravity meant nothing. The edges of his
overcoat acted as his wings, black folds billowing out around his
body. None of the Outer Senshi had trouble keeping up with him;
they glided through the air as swiftly as he did over the buildings
and alleyways, shadows in the darkened skies. Beneath, dozens of
street parties remained oblivious to their presence.
     The four landed at last, here in this quiet courtyard.
     "I suppose now you wish to seek answers from me," the Man With
No Name said, staring evenly at the Outer Senshi. 
     "The thought had crossed our minds," Haruka answered coldly.
     "However," he added, casting a glance over his shoulder at the
flickering lights that could be seen through the veil of flowers.
"There is something else too. You are seeking the Dark Messiah."
     He paused as he drew up beside Michiru; she barely flinched as
he moved his head close to hers. The shades hid his eyes, yet none
could be certain of what he was looking at. "No," he said quietly,
as if seeing something, akin to a hunting dog catching the scent of
its quarry. "What you seek is not the Dark Messiah, but the Messiah
of Light."
     Aqua-green eyes slowly looked up to meet his gaze, and
Michiru's lips became an enigmatic smile. "How would you know
that?" she inquired.
     The Man With No Name smiled, amused in that he himself could
provide no answer. "I don't know. I'm discovering my destiny as I
walk along its path."
     He held out his hands, and Haruka stiffened upon seeing the
shine from the dried blood on his dark sleeves. Her evident
distrust of him wasn't something she cared to hide. "What are you?"
she demanded.
     He shrugged, looking up to the heavens. "I'm just a man with
no name. Nothing more and nothing less...for the time being."
     A laugh escaped his lips.
     A laugh that sent Setsuna's hair standing on edge. The time
guardress could sense something about him that echoed of a power
that held the potential to rival her own. And yet it was unfocused,
uncertain of what it was. A magik that remained a mystery even to
itself.
     Hands were stretched out, sparks exploding from his palms. A
shimmering radiance filled the secluded courtyard--yet the light
came not as much from his hands as it came from Haruka and Michiru.
The two Outer Senshi stepped back on their own, caught up in their
own private worlds of surprise and confusion as something began to
emerge from their bodies. Silhouettes of fierce white light faded
away quickly, and they held out their hands to grasp what had
become revealed.
     Haruka now held a sword.
     Michiru, a mirror.
     This Man With No Name had invoked their Talismans into being. 
     "Answer me my name," he stated. "And I will give you the
world."
     Haruka and Michiru were still staring at their Talismans,
their minds not ready to give him an answer. And so Setsuna, who
almost felt as if she had been expecting this, answered for them.
"You don't have a name," she said. "You said so yourself."
     The Man With No Name smiled at that. "And that is why I am not
meant for you. You are here as companions to my unknown mission;
that much I know."
     The tall, sandy-blonde gripped the hilt of her sword,
unsheathing the blade. Purifying white light flooded out from the
exposed weapon, and she quickly slid the sheath back over it.
Michiru in turn was studying the mirror, looking first at the
reflection held within the glass surface, and then to the crest of
Neptune engraved on the back.
     "I admit my own surprise," the Man With No Name said. "Those
are not the weaponry I was expecting the Outer Senshi to possess.
Not against someone like the Dark Messiah."
     "You hardly seem equipped yourself," Haruka retorted. 
     The Man With No Name stifled a laugh, cast another glance out
to the flickering lights of the celebration beyond them. "If I have
learned one thing since my birth, Sailor Uranus, it is that I am a
weapon. There may be more to my existence, but for now that remains
unknown."
     He abruptly froze, and Setsuna could have sworn she saw his
eyes narrow from behind those tinted, coin-sized lenses. The folds
of his overcoat noiselessly ruffled as he turned his head,
something in the nightly winds catching his full attention. He
didn't seem to like what he had noticed.
     "Ladies," he said, his demeanor suddenly more solemn than ever
before. "Do yourselves a favour."
     "What?" the tall sandy-blonde asked.
     The Man With No Name growled, crouching low to the ground.
"Run."
     He sprang from the ground, cutting through the air to land
upon the mansion's rooftop. The three Outer Senshi were a few
seconds behind him, none willing to let him simply disappear into
the night as sudden as he had first appeared.
     And so all four bore witness to a pillar of dark magik that
exploded from the heart of Hakkeda's cityscape, turning night sky
into black storm. Violet lightening crackled and streaked across a
now starless heaven, tearing apart buildings in their rampage. 
     Even from where they stood, they could see the debris
scattering in all directions as buildings were torn apart.
     Setsuna's eyes widened as she saw within her mind a female's
silhouette amidst the furious magik that was tearing apart Hakkeda.
"Hotaru," she whispered, chilled to again think this was once her
daughter.
     "She's here," the Man With No Name said quietly. "The Dark
Messiah has arrived."
     "And what are you going to do about that?" Michiru asked.
     He grinned, removing his shades. Taking a strange pleasure in
seeing their reaction to the clouds of his eyes dissipating, to
reveal the black essence of his magik. "Give you a headstart," he
answered.
     "I'm not about to run from her," Haruka said, defiant before
the Man With No Name. "It is our duty as Outer Senshi to protect
our worlds from evil like her." She paused, looking over to her
Neptuni lover. "And while I may not like it, I'm not going to run
from it."
     Michiru gave the tall, sandy-blonde a gentle smile.
     "You're no match for her," the Man With No Name stated,
turning to the Outer Senshi. "The Messiah of Silence holds more
power than the three of you combined. You should leave this place
and continue on your journey. I'll catch up."
     He stepped forward, prepared to leave them.
     "And you're blind," Setsuna countered, lowering her time staff
in front of him. "You may see the world in magik like we see it in
colours, but I don't think that gives you reason to believe you can
win against her."
     The Man With No Name glanced down at her staff, and then
slipped his hand beneath the key-shaped staff. Unhurried, he lifted
it out of his way and resumed walking towards the heart of the
storm. "I merely wish to discuss something of a private nature with
this Messiah of Silence," he said, slipping his hands into his
pockets. "Do me the courtesy of leaving quickly; it would serve you
well to ensure you are out of range when she levels this city."
     He reached the end of the rooftop and then became a darkened
blur soaring through the skies. The Outer Senshi remained rooted
where they stood for only a few moments; a shared glance between
the three of them was all they required.
     A heartbeat later, they gave chase.


     Mistress 9 was enjoying herself.
     Though not as much as she wanted.
     Silence had been shattered with screams, choruses of cries and
shrieks punctuating the frightened mob that fled in any direction
they could. The city square had now become a lifeless crater of
scorched earth. Whatever romantic couples had been there to
experience her first strike could bear witness no more. The
surrounding area was now paying the price for her presence.
     Revelers became entangled in their hysteria, crashing through
whatever wasn't a solid wall. Tables were overturned, stages were
stormed, taverns and restaurants became the sites of stampedes. No
one wished to get near the Dark Messiah as she leisurely walked
down the cobblestone streets.
     A swipe with her glaive cut the air in half. 
     The tear continued its onslaught, ramming itself in a set of
buildings, pulverizing them completely. The walls were cracked down
the centre, crumbling and imploding as the screaming lives inside
were abruptly silenced.
     Mistress 9 turned a corner, finding yet another street where
a celebration had become a frenzied evacuation. Many had already
disappeared down alleys or were cowering in the nearby buildings.
The last of the terrified jubilants cleared the street.
     And then suddenly there was one standing in her path.
     One who wasn't afraid.
     Hands in his coat pockets, dressed in black save for a white
cross that ran its course along one of his sleeves, was a man whose
name she did not know. His dark hair fluttered in the night winds,
his head tipped towards the ground as if the formation of the
cobblestones was of great interest to him.
     Abruptly he lifted his head.
     Stared directly at her.
     "I know you," he remarked, curious confusion blended with the
vaguest of recognitions. The Man With No Name abruptly tilted
himself sideways, neatly avoiding a vicious thrust from the
glaive's sharpened edge.
     "And how would you know me?" Mistress 9 inquired savagely,
pulling the glaive back towards herself. 
     His unexpected agility had raised her guard, and she liked it.
The taste of Cait Sith's blood still lingered even now upon her
lips; she hoped this one would taste just as delicious. Perhaps
even put up more of a fight that Uranian soldier.
     "I possess no memories that would give me reason to believe we
have met before," he answered.
     His eyes were unlike any other she had seen.
     Eyes that moved like magik.
     Purest magik.
     She wanted to take his eyes, take his power for herself. The
Dark Messiah decided to behead him, destroying the body but sparing
the eyes. 
     "However," the Man With No Name added. "I cannot deny that
your face is somehow one I recognize."
     She jabbed at him a second time, and he leapt into the air,
vaulting over her head to land behind her. They turned again to
face each other. Her violet eyes started to glow, the magik of the
Dark Messiah venting itself in an aura that flooded her entire
body.
     Long raven-dark hair flowed around her as the loose gown on
her body rippled like waves of black water. Without using the
Silence Glaive she unleashed a concentrated burst of her magik.
This time the Man With No Name would die.
     Give her his eyes.
     His magik.
     The Man With No Name tilted his head to one side, already
anticipating the attack. The magik grazed his hair and shoulder,
yet still missed him. It slammed into a tavern behind him, soaring
through the front doors and then exploding with enough force to
send the tavern crashing down upon itself.
     The Man With No Name never glanced back as the gust of wind
from the implosion pressed his redingote taut against his back.
Eyes of the storm closed momentarily as he spoke to Mistress 9. "I
am not meant for you," he whispered quietly. "While you can lay
claim to me, I'd rather you didn't."
     He was refusing her.
     Refusing to give in, to fear her.
     Mistress 9 gave an enraged shout, trying once more to impale
him upon her weapon. Yet once more the Man With No Name skillfully
dodged, hands never leaving the pockets of his long redingote.
     "Good day to you, Mistress Nine," he stated evenly. "While I
dislike the notion, I know we shall be seeing each other again soon
enough."
     "You're not leaving," she countered, jamming the base of the
glaive into the soft, burned ground.
     One of his eyebrows was raised. "Really?"
     "You're no mere human," the Messiah of Silence stated, leaning
against her glaive. Naked fingers ran along the edge of her weapon,
skin savouring the feel of the naked blade. "You will give me
something to enjoy tonight."
     Her tongue ran along her lips.
     "Ever since Aurora, I haven't found an equal. This petty
destruction means nothing to me. I want someone who doesn't fear
me. I want to personally give them a reason to fear me."
     Something shifted amidst the pulsating entity within his eyes.
     The storm churned and grew.
     "Ara," the Man With No Name said, his voice suddenly turning
cold. "So taking life leaves you that bored?"
     Winds surged and swept past him, the folds of his coat wildly
flapping behind his body as he opened a hand and held out his palm
between them. Necromagik crackled from his skin, a demon summoned
from the manifesting darkness. It had a name he had already called
upon, invoked to clear the playing field.
     A wicked smile, born of an evil that perhaps matched her own,
carved itself upon his face.
     "Then let me remedy your boredom," he said. 
     Flames as black as the midnight realms exploded from his palm,
a rampant inferno spiraling towards the heavens before forging
itself into twin demon wings. Its essence out moments later, like
entrails. Enormous legs emerged as four albino eyes opened up, and
the Jabberwocky made itself known to the world once more. Spit flew
from its jaws as it bellowed, the demon's gaze fixating upon her.
     "I must thank you," the Man With No Name said to her. "I've
never known hatred before. It's quite a rush." Eyes of the raging
tempests turned upwards to the dragonwyrm. "Kill her."
     The Jabberwocky was more than happy to oblige its master,
becoming a thrashing mass of coils and fangs and claws. The
glistening and blackened form of the demon lunged, falling up the
Dark Messiah. And Mistress 9 did nothing to flee or brace herself
for the impact. Violet eyes closed, and the blade of the Silence
Glaive began to glow as she invoked the deadly power that was hers
alone to control.
     "Silence Glaive Surprise!"
     The world went dead.
     And then turned itself inside out.
     In the last moments of its infernal life, the Jabberwocky
realized there were others in this world that were powerful enough
to end its life. This lesson had come one battle too late. Black
mass writhed as its skin bubbled and expanded before bursting
forth. Incineration came a heartbeat later, and the Jabberwocky let
out a startled screech moments before it was torn apart.
     The Man With No Name saw it all.
     "My friend," he whispered. A solitary tear fell down his face,
rolled down his cheek before it evaporated from the intense blast
of Mistress 9's approaching magik. The shockwave overtook him, but
he didn't seem to care.
     It was the first time he had ever felt loss.
     And now for the first time he would discover pain.

     
     From where she was in the labyrinth of Hakkeda's buildings,
Haruka turned to watch the blast turn night into clearest daylight.
     Everything became dead silent.
     And then exploded, buildings shattering into powder, debris
and gales flooding past them in a furious maelstrom of magik. The
Outer Senshi shielded their eyes from the intense light and the
shockwave that tore past them, causing the cobblestone roads to
ripple like a carpet being pulled.
     "What the hell is this?!" the tall sandy-blonde exclaimed.
     "The Dark Messiah's power," Setsuna answered, practically
having to shout over the howls of the wind.
     Suddenly a projectile shot through the streets, a trail of
dust erupting from whatever part of it was being dragged on the
ground. It struck the corner of a building; the object's course was
not changed...but the corner of the building was pulverized without
hesitation.
     And then the Man With No Name crashed into a wall, the stone
cracking on impact. His eyes opened, and with a wince he spoke a
single word:
     "Ow."
     The blast faded quickly, leaving the dark of night and the
glow of a smouldering crater. Mistress 9 moved on in another
direction, suddenly in a foul mood over her encounter with him.
     Her game with Hakkeda had ended.
     And so now would the city.
     For the moment, the Outer Senshi were more concerned with the
unknown stranger now imbedded in the stone. "Looks like she was a
lot more than you could handle," Haruka dryly remarked. She didn't
offer him any help, and by all indications he didn't require any.
     "That merely proves my point," the Man With No Name answered,
trying to right his balance as he stood moments after pulling
himself from the wall. His body swayed with uncertainty. "She is
not the one deserving of what I have to offer."
     "What do you have to offer?" Michiru pressed. She felt half-
tempted to try her newfound mirror to probe his mysteries; somehow
she doubted she would find anything.
     Secrets remained that way because they wanted to.
     Because they went through great lengths to remain so.
     The Man With No Name shook his head. "I do not know. I've
killed before, taken life because I was indifferent to it."
     The shades were drawn out from the folds of his redingote,
placed over his eyes. He briefly dusted himself off; Setsuna found
it incredible that after taking the full brunt of such an attack,
he was almost completely unscathed.
     "She killed someone I never knew I cared about," he said,
looking at where the Silence Glaive Surprise had reduced yet
another part of the city to ash and rubble. A malevolent smile
tugged at the corners of his lips. "Now I understand pain...and I
know what it means to thirst for taking a life."
     Haruka glanced at Michiru and Setsuna; her expression was one
of skepticism, distrust and uncertainty about this man who had
declared himself to be their travelling companion.
     Hakkeda's foundations shuddered once more as it took another
relentless beating at the hands and magik of the Dark Messiah. Once
her anger had been satiated, Mistress 9 would annihilate everything
around her.
     Setsuna turned to the others. "We should go." 
     Michiru nodded. "This town is already dead; there's nothing we
can do to change that."
     Timeless magenta eyes narrowed as those words were spoken.
Aurora was relived all over again, and silently Setsuna swore to
avenge the place she had called home for sixteen years. But could
she bring herself to destroy her own daughter, even after having
stood back and let the Dark Messiah destroy a planet?
     She knew this answer would never have a resolution.
     And so the three Outer Senshi, and the Man With No Name, made
their way out from Hakkeda. As they walked, solemnly, silently, one
final burst of blak magik was lifted up to the skies, dashing to
shards permanently the eternal party that had once been Hakkeda.


     Serenity stifled a giggle as she tried once again to walk
across the clearing, and nearly stumbled. Who would have thought
walking in these Elven dresses would be like walking on the top of
a fence, she wondered in bemusement as she nearly fell down again.
     Barefoot she moved, hopping up and up along a series of
entangled roots. The slender, crimson ribbon wrapped around her
foot, a petit bow tied just above her heel, never came loose, never
became dirty.
     Her gown had sleeves shortened to her elbows, and the lower
folds ending at her knees. Yet there were multiple hidden layers
and folds to this garment; it was surprisingly easy to confuse
where and what edge had to be tucked in or left loose. A fabric of
purest white, contrasting with the scarlet sash that followed the
curve of her right shoulder, trailing over her breasts and then
wrapping around her waist. Another small bow was made in back at
her waistline, securing the sash in place.
     Cascades of what she had first thought to be ruffles turned
out to be ripples of the natural cloth. It was willing itself to
appear the way it did; she could straighten it out when she removed
it before sleeping, yet when she put on the sash and secured it to
her attire, the cloth rippled beautifully again.
     Kakkyou had explained when she first tried it on that those
two colours were always worn by she who would become the queen of
Elfhame. He never explained the symbolism, or why the ribbon was
wrapped around her left foot, and she never pressed the matter.
     She was content to simply dance through the forest, wearing
his gift. As the Elven Queen-to-be, she slept in a private chamber
hollowed out from one of the grandest trees Arana's isles had to
offer. Soon enough, she would share a bed with Kakkyou. Serenity's
face went slightly flushed at that thought, and the other ones that
followed.
     These garments had awaited her when she awoke. The clothing
had been folded and laid out alongside her bed, with a small
pendant that was now hanging from her neck, tucked beneath the
folds of the garments. As far as she could tell, it was a blue and
opaque crystal, possibly crafted from a Lapis Lazuli gemstone.
Shaped like a raindrop, when her skin gently brushed along its
smooth surface, an image of Kakkyou had appeared.
     The pendant would only respond to her touch.
     Distorted at first like a pool's surface being disturbed.
     But then all became clear, and she could see Elven eyes of
creamy jade looking at her with fond affection. In behind Kakkyou's
mane of silver hair she could see some of Arana's majestic trees.
     With one fluid, graceful motion, Serenity leapt from the edge
of the roots, floating across the open space between the trees.
Already she was starting to sense--and harness for herself--the
Elven magik of running with the winds. 
     The folds and edges of her gown fluttered around her body as
she let herself descend, feet lightly falling on the cool grasses.
Everything was almost sensual to the touch; her body had grown
acutely sensitive to the magik that permeated every breath of air
she took.
     Even the material used to make her dress had a foreign yet
wondrous texture to it. Serenity admitted she couldn't tell if it
was silk or velvet, or something else. Yet it felt perfect to wear.
     At least Kakkyou had given her this.
     In the days she had already spent in Elfhame, one thing she
had slowly grown accustomed to was the dress of the Elven race.
Their designs were rather...unique. Some were rather absurd. Then
again, the Elven lived in the heart of a deep forest where magik
still thrived. To consider this made the idea of an Elven gown
fashioned to resemble a butterfly a very appropriate if not
beautiful one. 
     This gown, and the sash she wore as well, neither slipped off
one or the other shoulder, or gape at "ungapeable" places. It
didn't entangle her legs either, allowing her the grace of moving
through the forest realm like any other Elven would.
     And abruptly Kakkyou was there with her.
     He was perched upon one of the higher branches, looking down
at her from above. One leg was tucked near his chest, letting his
arm rest absently on the knee. His other leg dangled over the side,
swaying without reason or desire.
     Serenity froze, acutely aware of everything around her in that
moment. "What is it?" she asked, suddenly unsure of herself.
     Had she worn her gown the wrong way? Was someone disliking the
way she laughed and leisurely danced with the winds?
     Kakkyou chuckled as he shook his head. "Nothing," he said. He
leaned over backwards, plummeting off the tree branch. With seeming
ease, he twisted his body and righted his descent, landing
perfectly. Just a few steps in front of her.
     A hand moved through his long silver hair, tousling it up.
"Watching you there, I could have sworn you were a faery." He moved
closer, the anticipation in his lips seen by her eyes. "And I could
have watched you dance in the air for a lifetime, and not grown
tired of it."
     He kissed her lightly.
     Embraced her with just as much a caress, arms wrapping around
her back and pulling her close. She smelled like jasmine, like the
ocean air, like so many other things that calmed his soul when he
found himself dwelling in darkness. Kakkyou ran his fingers through
her long, golden hair.
     "So what do you think of Elfhame?" he asked.
     He had waited days to ask this question, giving her the chance
to adjust to the forest isles of Arana. Tense and reluctant to
finally ask, lest GlenHawke became a fonder memory to her than he
was.
     Crystal blue eyes searched the lush foliage of the forest, the
tall trees supporting the emerald canopy over their heads. She
could hear the numerous sounds of birds and insects and animals,
smell the fresh and damp air. The magik of giggling faeries and
nymphs called out to her, sensed just as clearly as the dominant
Elven magik.
     Serenity smiled as she leaned her head against his chest, felt
the beating of his heart and the warmth of his body. 
     "I'm home," she whispered.


     "Damn," Galahad muttered, studying one of the many screens
that were displayed within Camelot's immense war room.
     The readouts were clear enough: transmissions had ceased
completely, and the only traces left of what had once been Tenmile
were a few solitary heat signatures from smouldering fires.
     Another city destroyed. 
     Another to fall prey to the army of Shadows.
     "That brings the toll up to three cities," Arthur stated
grimly.
     True to his word, after clearing up the confusion of Aurora's
destruction and organizing those of his delegation left behind on
Neptune, Arthur had returned to Earth. Camelot was no longer
idyllic. The Knights of the Round Table had all been called back to
the capital city, and every last agent of their spy network was
reporting to them at hourly intervals.
     The Pendragon had arrived moments after Hakkeda's destruction
was reported. A new wave of confusion and hysteria was his to cope
with--yet he did it well. The resolve found in the wake of Aurora's
annihilation had resurrected the long-forgotten soldier within,
pushing away the weary old diplomat king.
     He, along with everyone else in the chamber, had barely slept
in the past few days. Those present had been fully briefed on the
nature of Aurora's destruction; the Dark Messiah was now leading
Morgana's armies.
     War was inevitable at this point.
     Yet for now, all they could do was monitor the attacks of the
Shadow armies, and use this time to brace themselves for the first
official confrontation.
     Arthur turned to one of his Knight Commanders. "Deploy half a
dozen rescue teams to the area. If possible, send out those
closest."
     His fingers swept across the hovering screen before him,
tapping on one dot amidst the map of the now-devastated region. The
image was magnified, giving the region's name.
     Lyoness.
     "Contact our evacuation forces there; if they can spare the
soldiers and the healers, I want them helping the survivors."
     The Knight nodded, and raced over to one of the vacant
consoles. If past trends remained the way they were, then the
chances of finding any survivors were few and far between; the
Messiah of Silence first wiped her chosen city out of existence,
letting Morgana's armies slaughter anyone who managed to escape the
hellish explosion of dark magik.
     "Looks like another sleepless night," Lancelot said, though
not exactly impressed with this fact.
     Galahad groaned, leaning back to stretch his neck. "I'll have
someone send up some food and tea."
     "You might want to wait on that," Merlin spoke up.
     Arthur turned his head, removing his lenses momentarily to rub
the bridge of his nose. "I'm rather hesitant to ask."
     Merlin brought up one of the landscape maps as the other
Knights gathered around him. "Three cities have been leveled by
Morgana's forces, who are now being led by the Dark Messiah." He
adjusted the picture's focus, outlining the devastated cities and
the directions between them. "Take a close look at the path of
destruction," the Ancient instructed.
     The Knight Commanders grew silent.
     Even Arthur stiffened.
     "It's a route," he whispered, his throat going dry. "They're
carving a path of death to us."
     She wasn't wasting any time with the outer borders of his
kingdom, slowly suffocating from the outside. Morgana was coming
straight for Camelot. And making sure he knew it beyond any doubts.
     "She's taking her time, at the very least," another Knight
said, trying to sound optimistic. "We have one to two day intervals
of inactivity between each attack."
     "Morgana just wants to make sure word gets out she did it,"
Merlin stated coldly, his tone evidencing his dislike for such a
tactic. "She's feeding on the fear, trying to make us afraid of
her."
     Lancelot leaned closer to the holomap, studying any patterns
that could be found. "Judging from the route the Shadows appear to
be taking, they'll destroy another two cities before reaching
Camelot. We've got perhaps four, maybe five days at best--that's
only if she doesn't change her pattern."
     "She won't," Arthur said grimly. "She's deliberately giving us
time to amass any resistance against her." He scowled. "It'll make
for a more impressive defeat; if her victory over Camelot is a
spectacular one, the other planets will hesitate in retaliating."
     "That just might buy her enough time to overtake the entire
Solis system!" one of the Knights exclaimed.
     "Kuso," Merlin swore through his teeth. With the Dark Messiah
leading her armies, such a lackadaisical approach to war was one
Morgana could get away with having.
     Arthur turned his head, looking directly at Galahad. "Send the
message to every last castle and province allied with us. I want
their soldiers assembled here as soon as possible. And alert the
cities that the Shadow army plan on attacking; I'd prefer them to
be deserted when the end comes."
     The momentary quiet in the room was again shattered as
holoscreens were consulted, communications were made, and everyone
scrambled to somehow find an opening to beat Morgana's relentless
onslaught. 
     Arthur closed his copper eyes, fighting back both the urge to
sleep and the incoherence he could feel creeping in from being
awake for so long.
     "You should rest, Milord," Lancelot said. "You've been awake
more than any of us." 
     Arthur was ready to object, but then his fading mind got the
better of him. The fact that he wasn't a machine was a hard one to
accept in these times, and reluctantly the fatigued Pendragon
nodded. "If something comes up--"
     "I won't hesitate to wake you," Lancelot finished. "Go on, and
get some rest. I'll look after things here, and make sure the
Knights get some time to rest as well."
     Grateful, Arthur moved towards the doorway.
     And then stopped as he saw Merlin's face.
     "What is it?" he asked.
     Merlin never looked away from the screen before him, his aged
eyes studying the route being taken by Morgana's armies. "One thing
troubles me," the mage answered. "This woman, the Dark Messiah; she
has enough power to shatter planets. Why is she wasting her time
demolishing a few small cities?"
     When Arthur moved to confer with the Ancient, Lancelot didn't
interject. He knew their king well enough--and he also understood
what Merlin was implying.
     "You think she has a hidden agenda?" Arthur asked.
     Merlin's eyes narrowed.
     He knew more about the Dark Messiah's origins than anyone else
in the room--and he also knew about the techniques her originator
frequently employed. 
     "I can guarantee it, Milord."
     If Mistress 9 was created independent of Morgana's twisted
desires, there was no need to doubt an ulterior motive being
involved. The only problem left was deciphering what that motive
was.
     And Merlin knew of only person who could answer that.
     The Raithe....


     Far from the prying eyes of Morgana, from the magik the woman
assumed to have in secretly watching the Dark Messiah, Mistress 9
continued her work. Hours had built up into another day of solitude
here in the darkness.
     In her own private sanctuary of silence.
     It seemed a foolish tactic to let her enemies build up their
defenses. Yet it suited her own purposes rather well. She wished to
find another worthy of dying at her hands. These humans were not
exactly the finest of specimens...but they made excellent
containers for daemon eggs. Others like her would soon follow, once
she opened the portal.
     The blade of the Silence Glaive shimmered with an indigo
light, feeding and fuelling the magik that was forging something
into being.
     A StarChamber.
     Rustic if not primitive to her tastes, yet it would easily
work to complete her task. The amount of energy required to open a
stable wormhole capable of bringing her master over was enormous.
For now, she would let her excess magik feed the StarChamber. There
was always enough left for her to wipe out an insignificant city.
     Those tasks set out for her by Morgana were rather pitiful in
comparison to this. Mistress 9 smiled wickedly to herself; once she
had secured the gateway, she would deny Morgana the chance to
become a container. Human bodies were such fragile things.
     Let that arrogant woman play with her puppet armies.
     Pharaoh 90 was her true master.
     And she would bring him into the Solis System.


     "Serenity?"
     She never heard him say her name, crystal blue eyes looking
distantly to something that laid beyond the comforting trees of the
forest. Winds of change were blowing, whispering her name and
calling out to the magik within. Those voices were almost
inaudible, yet captivated her full attention.
     Kakkyou called to her again. "Serenity?"
     She heard him this time.
     It was easy to read the concern in his expression. He stopped
walking, trying to appraise that distant glimmer still in her eyes.
Yet he still kept holding her hand to reassure her. To reassure
them both. "Are you alright? You look...preoccupied."
     Serenity looked away from his gaze, back out to the forest
world around them. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I can feel
something out there, out beyond the boundaries of Elfhame."
     "If it's any consolation, it's not just you." Kakkyou seemed
to hold her hand tighter now. "We've all felt it. There are foreign
magiks appearing on Earth. No one knows what they mean, except that
a change is coming."
     A small group of Elven ladies walked past them, the girls
giggling and throwing knowing glances to Kakkyou. The sultry
expressions and pouting lips were more than enough to get Serenity
embarrassed, and Kakkyou waving to them with acrid smile on his
face.
     "I think I'm giving them too much freedom in gossiping about
us," he remarked, still politely waving. 
     One of the Elven ladies spoke in their native tongue,
evidently addressing Kakkyou.
     "Yes, thank you," he replied, a half-unamused, half-wry grin
on his face. "I'm...sure that technique will come in handy...Hey!
That's uncalled for...No, I haven't. And neither will you, for that
matter."
     The Elven ladies laughed and then disappeared amidst another
cluster of trees. Left alone to try and repair whatever damage had
been done, Kakkyou returned his attention to Serenity.
     "I'm sorry about that," he sighed, massing one of his temples.
"They can be rather amorous at times. Just do me a favour, and not
ask what they said to me."
     Serenity couldn't help but smile a little. "Oh, I think I got
the basic idea."
     The look on Kakkyou's face was priceless.
     It was her request that they consummate their love after the
wedding ceremony. And Kakkyou swore to respect her wishes.
Regardless, that didn't mean they were numb to the tension between
them.
     "Well, if that didn't kill the mood," the Elven lord said
finally, giving her a playful wink. "I don't know what will."
     He took her hand and they continued to walk through the
forest.


     Ocean blue eyes studied the readouts before him, and they were
not exactly relating good news. Magellan looked away from the
scrolling data. Destruction losses, property damage, death tolls;
it was a stomach-churning report to have to read.
     Especially on such a cloudless day as this.
     He was in no mood to be fixated on such a thing while the sun
shone down upon him, while the world of Vlatmere seemed to be at
such serene peace. All around him, the rose garden his father had
so tenderly cared for was flourishing and drinking up the sunlight
like falling rain. And yet this ethereal beauty wasn't lifting his
spirits as it usually did, when his mood became heavy and brooding.
     Tenmile was attacked not two hours ago.
     That made it the third city to be destroyed by the Shadows.
They were just lucky that Vlatmere was a fair distance from both
Camelot and this fiery path being carved by Morgana's armies. Even
still, if Camelot fell then it was just a matter of time before the
war came to the front walls of Vlatmere castle.
     Everything seemed to be falling apart around them.
     And while he trusted in Arthur, Magellan found himself in
doubts of just how the end of this would turn out. So many had died
already, and the killing was far from being over. But so long as it
was in his power, he would protect his people and his province. And
his Sailor Senshi.
     "Magellan?" Myung asked. She sat across the table from him,
holding her teacup in her hands yet drinking none of the tea. Her
blue eyes had been watching him quietly question the future, their
future.
     The Earthian prince could hear the concern in her voice, and
gave a reassuring though weary smile. "I keep going over it in my
head," he said, almost more to the air than to her directly. "I
think back to the events of the past week, wondering if there was
anything I could have done to help prevent this from happening."
     They were seated on a small patio table in the rose garden,
and all around them bloomed the quiet beauty that made Magellan
remember why he had always pressed on in life. Even after his
father's death, this always served as a private sanctuary.
     A small touchpad was laid out between their cups of tea, the
fatalities from the Shadow armies still scrolling along. Remaining
oblivious as to who may be reading or ignoring them. Facts were
facts, whether or not they were accepted.
     "You can't blame yourself," Myung told him. "Magellan, you've
done so much already in keeping your subjects in control of their
fears. Where mass hysteria has torn other cities apart, Vlatmere
remains as stable as ever--and they have you to thank for that."
     Magellan winced as he massaged one of his shoulders. The
tension over the past few days was starting to take effect; his
muscles were knotting up and giving him more discomfort than
preferable.
     "I can only use rumour control for so long," he said. "I'm
still racking my mind, trying to think about the next step when
that control breaks down." His eyes looked to her with concern and
severity. "I'm not about to lose Vlatmere to mass riots and martial
law, Myung. It's not what my father would have wanted, and it's not
what I want."
     Myung flashed him that trademark, disarming smile of hers. It
was incredible to think that she could wield her smiles like some
wielded magik. And yet whenever her face lit up with that childlike
wonder and laughter, it was more possessive than any spell he knew
to exist.
     For one brief shining moment, he forgot about the impending
danger. And for that, he was eternally grateful to his Senshi of
Love. One of his hands clenched into a ball, muscles flexing as he
tried to psyche himself up...only to fail at the last moment, and
allow his hand to relax once more.
     Magellan winced as he tried in vain to locate a cramped muscle
that was annoying him far more than he wished it to at the moment.
     "Here," Myung said, setting her teacup down on the table as
she rose from her chair. "Let me help you."
     He didn't object when she stood behind him and asked for him
to remove his jacket. Magellan undid the buttons on his uniform and
slid out his sleeves. All that remained beneath the royal vestige
now was a thin, black undershirt. Myung began to massage the base
of his neck, kneading out the stiff muscles that were currently
giving him problems. Magellan's eyes widened in unexpected delight
at how thorough and effective she was; he was practically melting
under her touch, every nerve willingly dropping its protest to let
her fingers dance and squeeze his skin.
     "Mmmmm," he sighed.
     That caused Myung to laugh. "I take it you're enjoying my
therapy?"
     Magellan nodded. "I need to hire you on a full-time basis.
This, I could easily live with."
     "Tease," Myung said, pausing from her massage to bend over the
prince. Tresses of her blonde hair acted as veil which hid their
faces from the sunlight and roses. She lightly kissed his forehead,
and would have lingered there (if not moved to his lips) had loud
footsteps not broken the enjoyable silence of the garden.
     "Hey, Magellan!" Frederic called out. "We've got a message
from--" He stopped as he rounded the pathway and saw the two in
their romantic interlude. "Oh, you're busy. Should I come back
later, and let you two...?"
     His voice trailed off, leaving much to the imagination.
     On the other hand, Magellan knew exactly how Frederic thought.
The Earthian prince reluctantly tore his gaze from Myung, directing
his attention to his friend. "What is it?"
     Frederic waved a datapad in the air. "We've got a message from
Camelot, top priority," he said. "All rulers loyal to Arthur are to
assemble in Camelot as soon as possible, complete with troops."
     Suddenly Myung's attention was focused upon Frederic too. "How
many does Arthur want?" she asked.
     Frederic shrugged. "All of them, apparently. Sounds like we're
mobilizing for a showdown."
     Magellan scowled, setting an elbow on the table and letting
his chin be propped up by his hand. The action gave him an
incredibly pensive appearance. "Damn," he said quietly.
     The very thing he had been dreading for days had finally come
to pass. Now there could be escaping what the future had in store
for them. But at least now there would be no time for regrets or
doubts; if ever Vlatmere needed a clear-headed ruler, it was now.
     Myung moved out from behind him, opting to stand instead of
remain seated at her chair. She and Frederic gave Magellan a few
moments of silent intimation. Then when he spoke, he addressed them
both as one. 
     Trusted confidants and valued friends. 
     "As much as I want to help Camelot, I'm not about to leave
Vlatmere open to a surprise attack," he stated. "We'll keep all
shifts of the palace guards here, accompanied by three squads of
soldiers. Everyone else will go with us to Camelot."
     "All six battle skimmer prototypes are fully mobile now,"
Frederic added. "It may take them about half a day longer, but we
can hold almost all the heavy machinery in them." He paused,
consulting the datapad. "I haven't notified Camelot that our
skimmers are operational; I figured you might want some of them to
remain here."
     Magellan nodded. "Good foresight. What about aerial
transports?"
     "We can maybe transport a quarter of our forces over to
Camelot in one shot," Frederic answered. "Might I remind you though
that we only have one warcraft, and that's the Warhammer.
Everything else that flies in and out of Vlatmere ports are
outbound merchantships."
     Flight time would take about two hours--but that wasn't
counting loading and unloading time. Each of those could take up to
two to three hours as well. If they worked around the clock, at
best they could have the core of Vlatmere's forces in Camelot
within a day or so.
     Not unless the merchants allowed their crafts to become
temporary military transports.
     "Ask the merchants politely if they'd aid our cause," Myung
said to Frederic. "If they understand the severity of the matter,
they should help."
     "I don't exactly want a panic on my hands," Magellan
countered.
     Myung's eyes cast their gaze to the roses, to the beautiful
flowers oblivious to the tensions of their homeworld. "They already
know the war is approaching, and are afraid. This will give them
something to do, to take their minds off it."
     Magellan nodded his approval to Frederic. "Do it. I also want
the battle skimmers mobilized," he added. "Leave two here, along
with their operating crews; I want one artillery type, the other a
troop transport. The other four can make their way to Camelot and
rendezvous with us there."
     Frederic bowed slightly. "Anything else?"
     "I think we've covered the basics," Magellan said. "Anything
else will be handled as it comes up." He rose from his chair,
walking around the patio table to Frederic. "Commander."
     Frederic stiffened slightly at the sudden formality he was
being addressed by.
     "Once we get the first transport organized, I want you on it,"
Magellan continued. "You'll need to co-ordinate with the military
officials at Camelot, and establish a base camp or wherever our
troops will be staying."
     Ocean blue eyes turned to Myung.
     "Myung and I will remain here to supervise the prep details of
the other aerial transports, as well as make the battle skimmer
arrangements. We'll meet you in Camelot when the Warhammer makes
its last run from Vlatmere."
     Frederic saluted his prince. "Sir!"
     "Dismissed," Magellan stated, and Frederic quickly left the
garden. "I guess that military training actually paid off after
all," he sighed, looking a lot more like himself now that they were
alone. Myung decided she preferred this Magellan to the high-
ranking one.
     He drew up close to her, pulling out a small indigo box from
one of his uniform's hidden pockets. "I was going to give this to
you later," he said quietly, gently placing the box in her palm. He
guided her fingers, letting them curl around the gift. "However it
would appear if I don't do it now, I'll never get the chance
later."
     Her fingers were trembling just as much as his, though she
didn't know why. Myung removed the lid and peered down at the
shimmering present laid carefully inside. A ring forged from purest
silver awaited her awed gaze, and woven into the metal atop the
ring was a fragment of a stone she knew all too well.
     "A Star Sapphire," she said, running a fingertip along the
polished surface of the jewel. 
     These were gemstones said to be amulets of love.
     A Star Sapphire reflected six rays of light.
     And six was the number of Venus.
     "It's beautiful," she whispered, unable to raise her voice any
higher. "Thank you, Magellan."
     She couldn't understand why, but Myung found tears running
down her cheeks. Her entire body was shaking, though not from fear
or sadness. It was something else, an emotion she had never fully
known or experienced before. A quickening of the heart. A realized
longing of the soul.
     It all came to pass as Magellan placed his hand beneath her
chin and gently lifted her head so that their eyes might once again
meet together.
     "It may sound strange coming from a guy you've only known for
two or three weeks now," he said, his own voice hesitant to voice
what he wanted to say to her. "But believe me when I tell you
that...I love you, Myung."
     He leaned forward, and she never pulled away from him. Doubts
were a far cry from what was racing through her mind, as he pressed
his lips against hers in a brief yet dedicated kiss. Myung savoured
the memory as seconds stretched out into a delicious eternity that
became wrapped in his embrace.
     Reluctantly Magellan parted from her, taking a step back as he
mentally prepared himself for the next few hectic hours. But for
the moment he was still feeding off the euphoria of being with her,
of smelling her scent and watching her body gracefully move.
     "When this war is over," he said before leaving the rose
garden. "I want to spend my life with you."
     He turned and began walking down the path. There was much to
do, and very little time left. Myung didn't seem to care as the
tears continued to move down her face. "Magellan!" she called out
after him.
     He turned, and was unprepared for her as Myung threw herself
against him and wrapped her around his neck. She kissed him
passionately, deeply, ever so much more than the tease he had given
to her moments ago.
     She would spend the rest of her life with him.
     As his bride, his lover, and his protector.


     "Where are we?" she had asked.
     And Kakkyou had remained unusually silent in leading her by
the hand to a part of Arana's forest she had never seen before.
There were many parts of Elfhame she had left to discover, but none
had looked like this.
     A ring of trees encircled a clearing of damp moss. Serenity
found herself stepping down off a root, and into a pool of dark
water that rose halfway up to her knees. The moss was smooth
against her skin, holding enough substance to be possibly mistaken
for ground. She wasn't worried about the crimson ribbon around her
foot; it clung well enough to her body when she was running between
the trees. And the edge of her gown hung just above her knees.
     Even still, she had to fight back the sudden urge to bathe, to
savour the sweet smell of this water, and the way it would send
shivers down her spine while running along her skin. There was
magik alive in this place, almost as tangible as the radiant
moonlight and infusing within her a euphoria that could barely
remain contained.
     Crystal blue eyes looked to the heavens, and saw there were
heavens to be seen. Ever since she had entered the forest kingdom
of the Elven, sunlight came down as trickles and starry beams
penetrating the thick canopy of leaves high overhead. But here the
forest was pulled back, the foliage held at bay by the ring of
trees.
     It was night, and the skies were alive in darkness and stars.
Without the glow of the woods to serve as her light, she could see
an infinitude of stars slowly appearing to puncture the celestial
shadows. There were more shimmering lights than she had ever
imagined, more than she could ever hope to count.
     Kakkyou's arms wrapped around her body, his chest pressed into
her back. One arm moved over her breasts, his palm gently gripping
her shoulder. His other slid over her stomach and rested upon her
hip. Silver hair flowed past his face and draped down alongside her
cheeks. The Elven lord's warm, moist breath tickled her ears and
neck.
     Crystal blue eyes closed.
     She gasped, her breaths growing erratic. Eager and passionate.
In that moment, with the half-moon as a watchful guard and the
magik all around acting as a sensual electricity, she would have
let him do anything to her.
     Anything.
     Yet Kakkyou only held her, his arms quivering as he did so. "I
shall remain true to my promise," he said quietly, the tension in
his voice reflecting the war he silently waged to go any further,
to let his fingers trace erotic curves down her body. "This place
is one of the few on Earth where the magik is more concentrated
than the air we breathe. It harnesses any emotion, and gives
fantasies over to a reality."
     His lips were agonizingly close to her skin, and he stole a
momentary kiss from her neck. His own eyes of dragon green closed
and he fought against Kakkyou once more. Breaths slowed, calmed.
His grip relaxed, and the Elven lord released Serenity from his
embrace.
     A deep exhale came from the core of his lungs.
     "There are ten places on this planet with such magik," Kakkyou
said, stepping if not stumbling back through the water. He was
reeling slightly, dizzy from an exertion of body and mind and soul.
"Of those, three can be found in Elfhame woods. This is one of
them."
     Serenity turned, still dizzy from his touch, from this
intoxicating magik. There was that tender compassion his eyes
always held whenever he gazed at her, yet now there was a distance
within them. His smile was only half-hearted; he knew there was
something that would have to now come between them, to test them.
     "Wait there," he said to her.
     He began to utter something that sounded like a raspy breath,
his voice muttering a chant Serenity could barely even pick
coherent sounds or syllables from. But something else here in this
pool was listening to the Elven's summons.
     And it answered his incantation.
     Serenity looked away from Kakkyou as the water in the centre
of the pool began to churn and froth, whitened bubbles surging
forth as if trying to reach up and pluck a star from the night
skies. The surrounding shimmer from the forest pulled back,
everything falling into darkness as a new light emerged from the
waters.
     It was blue, almost like the deep oceans.
     The radiant illumination filled the clearing, yet going no
further than the ring of trees. Serenity felt a familiar warmth
touch her skin and knew this to be the source of her euphoria, for
the reason why every nerve within her body was alive.
     Polished silver revealed itself.
     Enchantment forged into curving metal and winding spires that
framed an elliptical mirror within its heart. The reflective
surface was not visible, the same shade of silver as the exquisite
framework wrapped around it. Elven runes ran downwards along the
mirror's smooth surface.
     Kakkyou abruptly stopped his incantation.
     Dragon green eyes opened.
     And suddenly the Elven runes changed, silver bleeding into
scarlet. A flash of crimson light overtook the clearing, and
Serenity was forced to shield her eyes from it. A heartbeat later
the forest grew dark once more, echoes of oceanic blue rippling
within the water. Everything within the ring of trees caught the
tidal reflection, capturing the tint of this magik.
     Serenity hesitantly approached the object that had risen out
from the heart of the pool. The once silver surface was now showing
a reflection of the forest. 
     She turned her head as she heard Kakkyou splashing through the
water. He drew up next to her and then led her before the mirror.
     "The mirror is enchanted by an Elven magik," he said, running
a hand down the smooth surface of the glass. The ripples of watery
light caused his silver hair shine blue. "It was created by a great
Playking who gave the mirror as a dark gift; whomever steps before
the glass sees in the reflection their true self."
     A smile appeared on the Elven lord's face. 
     "A masterpiece, really. Sent it to some vain and glorious
noblewoman across the seas. For what I heard, it took three guards
to restrain her from all the thrashing and screaming she was doing.
Evidently she didn't like what the mirror had to show."
     Serenity looked into the mirror, and saw herself.
     Only herself.
     "You have no reflection," she said quietly.
     "Indeed," Kakkyou agreed. "Not a single one of the Elven race
appears in this mirror. It is a grim reminder that to the rest of
the world, we are a forgotten lore. Thus we become ghosts. In the
eyes of the glass reflection, the Elven do not exist."
     She continued to look at the girl with the long, golden blonde
hair trapped on the other side of the glass. Abruptly her
reflection moved of its own will, Serenity-within-the-mirror
smiling prettily and then blowing her a kiss.
     Serenity blinked, and the reflection was as it should be.
     She couldn't understand what had just happened.
     It made her wary, seeking Kakkyou's reassuring warmth.
     "I brought you here for a reason, Serenity," he stated,
turning to her. "Something is happening--not just on Earth, but
encompassing everything in this Solis System. I fear that the
explosion in the skies was just the beginning."
     He brought up one of his hands, his palm caressing her cheek.
Serenity found nothing she could say to him; this was too
unfamiliar, and once again she could only follow as he took her
hand in his and gently lead her down an unseen path.
     "There is something else, hidden deep within your heart,
Serenity. And it is starting to awaken. I heard fading whispers of
it after that youma attacked you in GlenHawke. And ever since you
came to Elfhame, I've watched you slowly embrace this power as it
grows. You may not realize it yet, but you are no longer as afraid
of your magik. Not the way you once were."
     "I don't understand," she whispered. Her eyes were trembling,
wanting to understand all that he was telling her.
     And so Kakkyou told her everything.
     About his encounter with the dying old woman, of her arrival
at GlenHawke. She learned of his search to unlock the mystery of
her magik, and of his hunts for the ones who might steal her away
and kill her.
     "For a long time I wanted to use this mirror to see your true
magik," he said as he finished his recounting. "But I know the
nature of the glass all too well; you must seek out your own
reflection if you wish the truth revealed."
     "And that is why you have told me all this?"
     He nodded. "I want nothing more than to stand here forever
embracing you, Serenity, but your magik is slowly breaking the
chains that have kept it silent for years. You deserve the truth
now. If not for yourself, then for those who may be depending on
your power in the final hours."
     He kissed her once more.
     Gently pressed his lips against hers.
     "The mirror will only reveal its magik to you when you are
alone, and ready," he said quietly, stepping back. "I'll be waiting
for you in the shadows of the forest."
     And then he was gone, faded away amidst the rolling wisps of
steam and vapour that had suddenly overtaken the surface of the
moonlit pool. The water remained placid, the temperature as cool
and enticing as before. There should have been no reason for the
mists to have appeared.
     But this was magik.
     And it rarely paid heed to conventional thoughts.
     Serenity looked into the mirror's reflection, touching her
hair in uncertainty as she watched her reflection's movements. A
soft breeze blew through the forest, bringing with it the scent of
damp earth, and the strange smell that spring always possessed.
That mixture of new life, rain and grass all mixed together.
     The blonde girl in the mirror shifted as she did, and seemed
as uncertain as Serenity felt. It seemed hard to believe she was
staring at herself.
     This blonde girl looked so...so different.
     For the first time Serenity noticed a change in herself.
Perhaps it was because of Kakkyou's words, or else the prevailing
magik that was saturating the very air she breathed in this place.
Yet it was undeniable that she could see something new about
herself. A strange confidence, a peace of heart.
     The blonde girl staring back seemed like an angel, a princess.
     And there, standing right behind her, was the Raithe.
     Serenity whirled, a surge of panic racing through her body,
crystal blue eyes wide in surprise and fear. Yet she was alone
within the ring of trees, this sanctuary of Arana's forest. The
Ancient dressed in black, whose eyes shimmered like a thousand
stars, was vanished from her sight.
     Hesitantly Serenity looked back to the mirror. And the Raithe
was standing there behind her. This time she turned her head slowly
to check, and again found nothing. The mirror's reflection attested
otherwise.
     Crystal blue eyes gazed at the two figures in the mirror.
     "Who are you?" she asked quietly. She knew his face from a
dream that still haunted her, from a nightmare that refused to go
away even here in the solace of Elfhame.
     "I exist only beyond your reflection," the Raithe answered.
"Call me an illusion, a mirage caused by the moonlight filtering
through Elfhame's magik."
     The watery reflection struck his eyes, and she could see the
thousands of captured stars within the pitch darkness of his orbs.
A different breed of magik flowed from him, and while she could
only see him behind the mirror, Serenity could feel him standing
behind her, hear his voice so close to her ears.
     Awaken....
     "You can feel it, can't you?" he said, the reflection in the
mirror turning its head to look at some far-off horizon, something
beyond what she could see. "Something you once could not name was
crying out, and now something deep inside you is echoing that cry."
     Raithe-within-the-mirror leaned forward over Serenity's
reflection, revealing a shakujyo in his grasp. Metallic rings
chimed together, and she heard the sound echo across the pool. Each
echo brought with it a shiver along her skin, as magik once again
became tangible.
     Her heart stirred.
     Awaken....
     "What you have is something no other person ever will, save
for your daughter," the Raithe said. "You can sense the pain in
others, and heal it. That is your gift, Serenity; this magik is not
something you should fear, but embrace."
     Her hands reached for the pendant dangling at her breasts,
clutching it tightly as she continued to stare at the Raithe's
reflection. "I can feel your own pain," she said quietly, unable to
avoid those eyes of cosmic midnight. "You hide it with a flawless
mask, but it's still there."
     The Raithe looked away. "I know. But I'm of no concern to you,
Serenity. I'm a ghost, a mirage, a mere illusion created by the
Elven magik and the moonlight."
     "It doesn't have to be that way."
     He gave a smile, and suddenly the millennia that had passed
before those starlit eyes seemed to cumulate in the saddened way
his lips turned upwards. "Perhaps you're right. But I've walked my
own paths far too long to change them now. I only wish I had the
chance to know you better."
     The Raithe's image started to fade, slipping away as a memory
is lost in forgetfulness. His eyes shone ever still, and were the
last to fade away completely.
     "The time is coming soon for your true form to awaken,
Serenity. You must become a Messiah to this world, or else all hope
for the future is lost. Remember your magik...."
     And then he was gone.
     Serenity was left alone in the circle of trees.
     Moonlight rained down from above.
     And yet for all the warmth of the surrounding lights, she
couldn't keep her body from trembling.
     Awaken....


     Frederic raised a hand in front of his face as the winds pick
up with surprising ferocity. His hair was thrashing in all
directions, the gusts were harsh on his eyes, but all this really
didn't matter to him.
     If anything, this disturbance in the late hours of the night
was a welcomed event. He was standing on the edge of a landing
platform in Camelot; the Warhammer was making its final transport
from Vlatmere was landing.
     It was a surreal even to see an oversized metal bird slowly
descent amidst bursts of light and blasts of smoke. The living
engine system on the Warhammer might not have been the best, but it
still worked as flawless as it could given the circumstances.
     Minutes were spent just standing around and waiting for the
docking sequence checks to be completed before the hatches were
opened. The first ones out of the craft were Magellan and Myung. 
     Frederic was two steps ahead of the platform crew. "About
time!" he exclaimed, quickening his pace as he moved to intercept
with the prince. "You guys decide to take a scenic route or
something?"
     "I know, I know," Magellan sighed. "Unexpected delays midway;
we had to set it down and perform some emergency repairs on one of
the cargo doors."
     Frederic scowled. "Entry port six?
     Magellan nodded.
     "Damn!" Frederic lamented. "I thought we fixed that during the
second transport. I'll have the mechanics look at it once we've
off-loaded everything."
     He took the opportunity to duck out from his present company
and hunt down one of the platform crew members. Despite the hectic
pace of everyone around them, Magellan and Myung slipped into their
own private universe. The passing day had seen them more apart than
together, as they each co-ordinated the various tasks needed to
transport Vlatmere's military forces. As far as he knew, the only
ones who were actually awake for the bulk of the flight time were
the pilots.
     That malfunctioning cargo door was an unwelcome wake-up call
when it had happened. He hadn't been able to get back to sleep
afterwards.
     Magellan's ocean blue eyes turned to Myung, who was more
fascinated in looking at the vast expanse of Camelot that lay
sprawled out far below their landing platform. They were on one of
the outer walls of the castle; in order to reach the central
parapets and spires of Camelot itself, they'd still be required to
do an extensive amount of walking.
     However, the sheer view alone would make the trek worthwhile.
The lights and architecture were their own marvels to behold; three
Vlatmere castles could fit into Camelot. Before them stood
magnificent white spires that marked the city as one of the
greatest marvels of the Solis System. And in the distance glistened
the walls of the fabled Crystal Tower. 
     Somewhere within those walls was the room of the Round Table.
That was the ultimate, and final, destination Magellan had in mind.
There he would be conferring with rulers, knights and kings. If
there was anyone he would have to prove himself to, they would be
in that room.
     But he would not be going in alone.
     "Are you sure you want to be here?" he asked, turning to
Myung.
     The concern for her safety was still in his voice, and while
she was flattered by his chivalric manner, Myung shook her head.
"This is more than me being destined to come here," she answered.
"I wanted to come."
     He knew there would be no arguing with her.
     There could be no arguing with her, not after what they had
learned of the Sailor Senshi. If their duty was to protect, then he
was hardly one to stand in her way.
     Right now, Earth needed all the protection it could get.
     Aurora's destruction served to prove that point.
     "You guys have to see this," Frederic stated as he joined them
at the platform's edge. "This isn't some pithy joint training
exercise. This is an army massing for a serious battle. Hell, I've
seen several of the best warriors on the planet milling around
here." His face was solemn yet not without the glow from the
constant adrenaline rush, his hand beginning to stroke his Longbow
in anticipation. "There is going to be a major fight here. I can
almost taste it."
     "We're trying to avoid that if at all possible, Commander,"
Magellan said sternly. "I'd like to see us all return to Vlatmere
without any injuries or fatalities."
     The prospect of war didn't sit well with him, nor did the
battle lust he could sense creeping its way through the ranks of
every military officer here. There was no honour or glory in a
bloodbath. He wasn't sure he could stand seeing so many people die.
     Especially those under his direct command.
     His uneasiness did not go unnoticed by Myung; his growing
concerns were ones she seemed adept at picking up. "Don't worry,"
she said quietly, leaning toward his ear. "When the time comes, you
will more than prove yourself."
     Magellan nodded, silently thankful for her much-needed
support. Vlatmere's prince focused himself; it was time to be
authority, and to delegate it. Everything he had ever wanted to be
and do in memory of his father was reaching its peak.
     "I've got orders to report to King Arthur as soon as
possible," he said to Frederic. "Oversee that everything else
happens as it should. We need to impress these people, and prove
that we are among the best Earth has to offer."
     Frederic grinned impishly. "And what makes you think I haven't
already seen to that? The day-to-day operation of this outfit is my
job, remember. We'll have every other battalion in shame before the
sunrise, and I can promise you that."
     Magellan couldn't help but smile; Frederic was ever the
dramatic, but when it came to matters like this, the man rarely
boasted. Those words his Commander had spoken would be words
Frederic would live up to. Period.
     He turned to Myung. "Are you coming with me, Myu--?"
     That last part of her name failed to find vocalization as both
Magellan and Frederic found themselves staring at a Sailor Senshi
in their midst.
     "That was quick," Frederic remarked, nodding his approval. "I
could use one of those henshin things to change out of my uniform
for a date."
     Magellan gave Frederic a less than impressed look.
     "I'll go supervise the off-loading," Frederic offered.
     "You do that."
     With a sigh, knowing that this was just Frederic's way of
shrugging off the building tension, Magellan returned his attention
to Myung. No...she was no longer Myung. The young princess before
him was now clad in a sailor battle fuku.
     "I'm assuming you're ready to join me?" he inquired.
     "I wouldn't miss it for anything," Sailor Venus said, winking
at him.
     "Let's go then."
     The two cut across the landing platform, and crossed through
the entranceway. Somewhere along the way, they reached out and
squeezed the other's hand. 


     "I must confess," the Man With No Name remarked, looking from
one high ceiling to the next as he traversed the many corridors of
Camelot. "This is quite the artistic design."
     His black garments and redingote let him blend in fairly well
with anyone whom he happened to run into. Most thought him to be
some form of mercenary or assassin; Arthur was employing most
anyone who was loyal and willing to fight.
     The shades were pushed back up the bridge of his nose with his
middle finger, and he turned to his companion. "Wouldn't you agree,
Setsuna?"
     Setsuna nodded, though her thoughts were far from the idle
conversation at hand. "I saw a lot of similar designs on Aurora."
     "You were there when it was destroyed, were you not?" he
inquired. There was nothing implied within his voice. He was merely
asking a question.
     She clenched her jaw, forced back the guilt and frustrations
that she know would forever haunt her. "Yes."
     "And yet you did nothing about it?"
     Again she could only answer, "Yes."
     The Man With No Name paused and turned his head. Even with his
black eyes hidden behind those tinted lenses, Setsuna could feel
his penetrating gaze. And it was, if anything, a terrifying ordeal.
He almost seemed to want to find something wrong, an excuse to vent
the dark emotions he found intriguing to experiment with since his
encounter with Mistress 9.
     "You did the right thing," he said at last, resuming his walk.
"It might not have been something you agreed with, but it was what
had to be done."
     He spoke with such certainty.
     A luxury she found herself lacking as of lately.
     "That's just what I need," Setsuna muttered. "Another Raithe."
     He abruptly paused. "Raithe?"
     The fact that the Man With No Name had stopped at the mention
of a name drew out the curiousity from Setsuna, as well as her
latent obsession with finding out the truth behind the one who had
been orchestrating the past at very major turn.
     "Do you know him?" she asked.
     A few moments were taken to consider.
     But the Man With No Name shook his head. "Iie. Somehow that
name brings with it a vague memory. But it still is vague, and
vague memories only bring obscurity. I am looking for memories that
bring clarity to my mission, to my reason for being here. The
Raithe is a part of it, but not enough that I would seek him out
for answers."
     Now that came as a slight surprise.
     This man with no name and the Raithe had seemingly unrelated
duties to carry out, neither one wishing to interact with the
other. Setsuna had wondered, ever since meeting the blind stranger,
if he was a part of the Raithe's conspiracy.
     Magenta eyes looked up to one of the grand chandeliers hanging
from the ceiling. "We'll need to meet with Haruka and Michiru
soon," she said.
     The Man With No Name gave a slight nod. "Hai hai. All in good
time, Senshi. All in good time."


     As they moved through the great castle Magellan realized that
most of the people idly milling around were warriors; there were
few civilians or even palace staff around. 
     That wasn't particularly boosting his confidence.
     He was, though, being noticed. Or rather, Myung was. As Sailor
Venus, she was drawing a lot more attention to herself than he
would have preferred. A little out of jealousy, a little more out
of security reasons. The fact that the short, pleated skirt seemed
to show off more of her legs than any other outfit he'd ever seen
wasn't helping either.
     Hallways and atriums passed them by, an intricate and exotic
series of intertwining corridors, each just as beautiful as the
last. Soon the number of people diminished and the security
measures increased.
     They had reached the inner part of the castle.
     The base of the Crystal Tower.
     And before them, beyond a set of large decorated doors, laid
the room of the Round Table. On the other side awaited Arthur and
every last military leader dedicated to holding the peace of the
Golden Empire together. As they moved down the hall, they were
stopped by one of the Knights when he saw them coming.
     Magellan leaned closer to Venus. "Sir Lancelot," he told her
quietly.
     Lancelot seemed to recognize him without the need for a formal
introduction. "Ah, I'm pleased to see you could make it," the
Knight Commander said warmly, extending a hand in greetings.
Magellan shook it. "It's good to see you again."
     "Despite the circumstances, I agree," Magellan concurred.
     Absently reaching back to free his loose pigtail from the
collar of his armour, Lancelot abruptly took notice of Sailor
Venus. Instantly his demeanor changed, his body straightening up
before he bowed to kiss her hand.
     Chivalry had yet to be pronounced dead in this age.
     "And who is this beauty?" the Knight inquired.
     Magellan shifted his stance, gesturing as regally as he could.
Here was the first test of everyone's reception. "This is the
Sailor Venus, one of the Sailor Senshi."
     Lancelot seemed to take the revelation well. "Sailor...Senshi,
you said?" he asked, almost laughing. He seemed to expect a denial,
that this was just some sort of prank. After all, the Sailor
Soldiers were nothing more than legends.
     Venus nodded her own affirmation. "I assure you, Sir Lancelot,
that I am a Sailor Senshi. But as far as I know I am the only one."
     The Knight Commander still seemed to be in disbelief, though
he was working hard to suspend it for the time being. Admittedly
Camelot would need all the warriors it could find, even if they did
come from legends and near-forgotten stories. 
     Lancelot's eyes trailed downwards as he appraised Venus, his
gaze abruptly halting as he took notice of her fuku and low-cut
skirt. "I hope you're not wearing that into battle," he said.
"While it might take your enemy a long time to actually raise his
sword against you, one strike would kill you in that outfit."
     Magellan inwardly cringed--though he had thought the same
thing himself once before. Venus smiled, stifling a laugh and
treating those solemn words as a well-spoken jest. Her eyes slowly
closed, and she let her power begin to manifest itself.
     Magik stirred as it was invoked by a silent command.
     Twisted and flowed around Venus' still figure.
     Lancelot found himself backing away as he felt the surge of
heat and wind and light. This was just an echo of her true magik,
and it was incredibly tempered. All doubts of who she claimed to be
faded to darkness, and he believed. However, if the legends were
indeed true, then their worst fears of what laid ahead looked to
become a reality.
     "Are you two together?" he asked, ensuring his tone was a
formal one.
     Magellan nodded. "Yes, we are."
     Lancelot gestured to the sealed doors and then began walking
towards the room of the Round Table. Magellan and Venus took up
step behind him.
     "King Arthur has asked all the commanders to meet at the Round
Table," Lancelot explained. "We've all been on stand-by awaiting
your own arrival. You've done Vlatmere a great honour in mobilizing
your forces so swiftly over such a distance."
     The doors barring the path sensed Lancelot's presence and
accepted him as a rightful one to enter. On any other day, special
access for Venus and Magellan would have been required. This was no
mere 'any other day', and so they were let in without debate.
     Lancelot quickly moved to the side as the doors swung open,
allowing for the two to enter in complete view of the others
present. "Lord Magellan Endymion of Vlatmere, Commander of the
Eastern Armies," the Knight Commander announced to the men gathered
in the large room of the legendary Round Table. "And his companion,
the Sailor Senshi of Venus."
     At the statement of there being a Sailor Senshi in their
midst, all conversations fell silent. An awed hush spread across
the room, all eyes upon Venus as she moved into the grand chambers.
A faery tale become flesh was among them, a legend no longer
content to let itself remain that way, treated as a cute bedtime
story for little children.
     The residual power from Venus' magik was still radiating
around her, and thus everyone could readily feel the air of
authority that emanated from her. The magik she could wield was
more than that of all in the room combined. If he didn't see that
making some of the men nervous, Magellan would have had to be
blind.
     "Well," he remarked in a low voice, finding a quiet place upon
the wall to lean his back against. "You've certainly made quite the
impression on this crowd."
     Universal silence had shattered once more into dozens of
smaller, hushed discussions and debates. The only difference from
before was that most everyone who was talking or listening were
sneaking glances in the direction of Sailor Venus. It was obvious
that all conversations were about the girl in the sailor fuku.
     "I would have acted the same way if someone like me had walked
through those doors," Venus replied, leaning alongside him against
the wall.
     Magellan nodded. "Me too. In fact, I did react like that when
you first told me."
     "But at least you didn't start whispering about it behind my
back."
     They both became increasingly and uncomfortably aware of the
prying eyes now watching them together. Magellan could well imagine
what was running through their minds. Was she really a Sailor
Senshi? And what was he doing with her? Were those two lovers?
     At least he knew the definite answer to that last one.
     He would have easily challenged anyone there to think it
otherwise.
     Abruptly the ranks of officers stiffened and grew quiet. This
lull moved in a wave, which gave Magellan cause to push away from
the wall and stand at attention. 
     "His royal Highness, King Arthur!" a page proclaimed on the
opposite side of the room.
     The chambers went silent as the Pendragon walked in through
the grand doors. He surveyed the assembled men--and woman--in the
room of the Round Table, and paused briefly to push the coin-sized
lenses back up his nose. Long blonde hair streaked with grey was
tied back behind his head, his face left revealed for all to see.
There was a solemnness in the way his expression was held, the way
he slowly stepped into the room. An air of absolute authority
followed him like an oppressive shadow; the ambience of the room
noticeably changed.
     Arthur took his seat at the Round Table, resting his arms on
the polished marble surface. It was speckled with sapphiric blue
and dull grey, and at its centre was the crest of Camelot. For a
moment he stared at the faint reflection of himself in the stone,
and he gathered his strength.
     "You may all be seated," the King stated after taking his
seat. He was followed then by the Knights. The gathered Generals
and Lords each took to the rows of seats that were arranged to fit
the curve of the room.
     Magellan and Venus remained where they were. 
     Neither one felt like sitting down.
     Magellan could feel himself grow tense, his thoughts
reflecting those of everyone else there; only five of the Knights
were in attendance, seated at their rightful places at the Round
Table. That was less than half. 
     So where were the others?
     Venus took the momentary calm to survey the chamber more
closely. As far as she could see, there was only one door leading
in or out; the ceiling was incredibly high, a glass dome at the
peak revealing the starlit night and half-moon in the skies. 
     Abruptly the smooth stone that comprised the walls of the room
rippled, and grew distorted in their elaborate detail. Suddenly
they vanished completely, replaced with large glass picture windows
that spanned the floor to the base of the dome overhead.
     Venus had to keep herself from recoiling in surprise as she
found herself staring down at the rest of Camelot, a seemingly thin
pane of glass separating her from the cold air and a long fall to
the ground. Magellan also leaned forward before ensuring there was
still something to press his back against.
     The room of the Round Table had once been at the base of the
Crystal Tower. 
     Now it was at the tower's pinnacle.
     Arthur lifted his head as he addressed the gathering. "Thank
you for coming on such short notice. I wish we could have met
differently, for a joint training exercise or festival, perhaps.
Alas, this you all know this is not so. The true reason for you
being here is that we are readying for war. The Shadow army is
mobilizing, and the time for us to at last confront them is at
hand."
     Magellan scowled.
     This was the last thing he wanted to see happen in his
lifetime, or anyone else's for that matter.
     "Lord Endymion," Arthur said as he looked in Magellan's
direction, "You are the last one to arrive. Are your men ready?"
     Magellan bowed slightly. "Yes, Milord, they are ready," he
replied. "They are finishing up the final preparations for base
camp as we speak."
     "Excellent," Arthur said. "I also hear you've finished
construction of the first battle skimmers."
     "Yes, Milord. Four in total are on their way, with the
remaining two left to protect my province. They should be arriving
at Camelot's perimeter within a few hours, if all has gone well
during the transport."
     That seemed to bring relief to the Pendragon's face. And then
he noticed Sailor Venus standing next to the Vlatmere prince. The
confusion of her presence, as well as her revealing attire, was one
he didn't bother to hide. "I have not seen you before," Arthur said
as he looked Venus over. "And who might you be, Milady?"
     Appropriate to protocol, she bowed to him. Arthur seemed dully
impressed by this. "I am the Sailor Senshi of Venus," she stated.
     Her words did nothing to faze Arthur. If anything, he looked
as if he was expecting like this. Or silently praying for it. A
smile found its way onto his face, and for a brief moment there was
hope in his eyes. "Ah," Arthur said, "And you will be assisting
us?"
     "As much as I can," Venus replied. "My destiny is to safeguard
this solar system and its inhabitants. As such I will aid those who
fight to protect it as well."
     Arthur nodded. "And you have my deepest thanks for that. Like
many others, I know of the legends surrounding the Sailor Senshi."
Copper eyes lifted to her, reflecting other hopes but with them
greater uncertainties. "Tell me, are there more of you out there?"
     "As far as I know I am the only Senshi," Venus answered. She
sounded apologetic in her tone, almost as if this was her own
fault. "It is possible that there are others...but I have yet to
find any." 
     "There's nothing to blame yourself for, Sailor Venus," Arthur
countered, reading the intimations in her voice. "I am grateful for
whatever you can offer of your services, and I am honoured that you
are here with us today." 
     His eyes darted to various members of the assembly, now
focused upon them all as a whole. "As you already know, the Shadows
have been attacking and destroying a number of cities already. Be
warned this is just an overture for the true battle. They're coming
for Camelot; our best estimates give us about two days before the
attack begins."
     That statement got everyone's attention. Alarmed whispers and
protests erupted from the crowd, and the Knights rose from their
seats at the Round Table, ready to forcibly calm everyone down.
     Magellan's eyes slid shut amidst the voices.
     Silently he swore.
     Venus saw his own reaction, and placed a reassuring hand on
his shoulder. He raised one of his own hands and clasped it with
hers. For now, the future seemed a most hostile thing to look
forward to. But if it had to be faced, then they would face it
together.
     "Do we know who is leading the Shadows?" one of the lords
asked.
     "Yes, we do." This answer came from Sir Lancelot. Arthur
didn't seem disturbed that someone else was speaking for him. "We
believe that it is a sorceress calling herself Morgana. She has
already managed to either seduce or kill more than half of the
Knights of the Round Table, which is why you only see five of us
here today."
     "All but five?" someone cried out. The thought that even one
of the Knights could be turned was unthinkable. The fact that only
five of them had gone untouched was a distressing one.
     "That is why I have called you all here," Arthur stated, the
authority in his voice silencing all other outbursts. "I asked you
to bring your best warriors, because we will need them to fight an
enemy that for the first time rivals our own forces."
     "If she's brought over half the Round Table to her side, how
are we going to have a chance at defeating her?" a general
countered.
     Galahad spoke up, "Every army has its weakness. The key to
defeating them is to find that weakness quickly. We can exploit
that before we lose too many resources and become unable to
effectively fight them."
     "Sir Galahad is correct," Lancelot agreed. "No army is
invincible. There is always a way to bring it down."
     At that, Magellan raised his hand.
     "I have to ask," he spoke up, bracing even himself for the
next words he was about to speak. "Rumour has it the one
responsible for Aurora's destruction has come to Earth. Has this
person joined the ranks of the Shadow armies?"
     Arthur took a deep breath that answered the question before
anything was spoken. His mouth opened to say something, but another
voice supplied the single word:
     "Yes."
     Everyone turned their heads as someone else answered for the
Pendragon. Merlin was there in the room, fishbone hair catching the
glow from the lights of the city beyond the grand windows. "Her
name is Mistress Nine, though most of my contacts call her the Dark
Messiah," the mage explained. But for all he would say, other
things he'd deliberately keep silent. Even to Arthur himself. "From
what we've been able to gather, it is this Dark Messiah who has
been leading the raids that destroyed the cities of Hakkeda,
Tenmile and Kansuke."
     "And you expect us to somehow destroy the likes of her?!" a
voice exclaimed, almost as hysterical in tone as it was
incredulous.
     Many others vocalized their agreements.
     The Knights grimaced, looking to each other and to Arthur for
a silent command to leave the Round Table and restore order to the
room. Arthur in turn focused his copper eyes to Merlin. The Ancient
merely nodded.
     A hand was outstretched, and suddenly a burst of lightening
exploded from Merlin's palm. Arcs of radiant electricity shot
upwards to the ceiling in a violent display, the entire chamber now
alive in sapphire and violet hues, winds rising up in a fury to
match the fierce expression on Merlin's face.
     Everyone shut up.
     None dared to speak.
     Magellan remained unfazed. He wasn't one to let maddened panic
seize hold of him in the fist place--not to mention he'd been party
to displays of magik like this a number of times now. Merlin's
action was one he had been expecting. He glanced to Sailor Venus,
but her gaze was fixated upon the power Merlin was invoking.
     Her blue eyes looked from lightening to the Ancient, studying
his methods and magiks, reading for herself the hidden techniques
he was using. And then for a brief moment something else caught her
attention.
     Venus glanced to the far side of the circular room, watching
the shadows of Merlin's magik dance across the glass. Amidst the
silhouettes and reflections of those present, something else was
standing there, watching them.
     She was certain of it.
     Yet all she could see were shadowy cloaks, visible only for a
few stray heartbeats amidst the raging magik that was spilling
darkness and light in uneven bursts across the surface of the
glass.
     Magellan seemed to sense her sudden caution. "What is it?" he
asked.
     "I don't know," she whispered.
     As much as she disliked it, she knew it was the truth.


     On the other side of the darkness, there in the midst of the
Pendragon and his Knights yet remaining unseen to any of their
eyes, stood two Outer Senshi. For listening in on this assembly,
Haruka and Michiru had agreed it best to become Sailors Uranus and
Neptune.
     Haruka admitted her trepidation; she had experimented with the
henshin only a few times, and never to the point of actually
transforming. Summoning it from out of nothing was a skill she had
developed, though nothing more had come.
     With a coy smile and a teacher's patience, Michiru had shown
her love by example what needed to be done. While she was amused by
the look on the tall sandy-blonde's face upon seeing how she looked
in a low-cut fuku and skirt, Michiru herself had to admit it was a
bit thrilling to be so seemingly underdressed. Not that in Haruka's
presence, this was a new thing for her.
     Becoming Senshi also proved to amplify their own natural
magiks apart from what could be summoned with the henshins. That
was how they could remain hidden even to one as powerful as Merlin.
     Shadowspell.
     Haruka had learned this stealth magik a long time ago from
when she was a little girl; rarely a day passed by without her
using it in some way. Useful for military games and exercises, and
especially invaluable whenever she had left for her nightly trysts
with Michiru.
     Now it served to cloak them in darkness and forgetfulness.
     Or so it appeared.
     Another who possessed the fuku and the magik of a Sailor
Senshi was there. This long-haired blonde girl was catching
something reflected by Merlin's magik. She could see their shadows,
but nothing else.
     "Ne, what do you think about her?" Haruka asked, her eyes
glancing over at Sailor Venus.
     Michiru, her back leisurely against the wall as her arms
remained crossed over her chest, merely shook her head. "She's of
no concern; her mission is different from ours, and I honestly see
no reason why we should involve her."
     They had been in Camelot for days now, more at Michiru's
insistence than anyone else's. The Man With No Name felt it was
unnecessary to come here, yet he agreed none the less. A power that
was desperately trying to hide itself was in this city, and Michiru
desired to know if this was the Holy Grail.
     So far the origin of this magik's echo was excelling at
masking itself. But in time they would find it. The future depended
on them finding it. And so Haruka and Michiru kept to the darkened
world of forgetfulness, unknown and unseen to everyone else.
     Both understood their duty.
     Both understood the stakes.
     And both were willing to sacrifice almost anything to ensure
the future was protected.


     Merlin's hand closed, the magik snuffed out by his clenched
fist. Lightening died, and the room returned to its normal
illumination. No one spoke in the calm that followed, though their
eyes darted from the Ancient over to the Pendragon. If ever he
desired their full attention, he had it now.
     "I can understand your concerns; they are warranted," Arthur
said. "Indeed, Mistress Nine is a formidable opponent, and not
someone we should take lightly in any sense of the word. But that
doesn't mean we should abandon everything we've worked to create.
I am not about to surrender my kingdom or the peace of the Solis
system to the likes of her without a fight."
     There was a growing passion in his voice.
     "I will fight alone if I have to," he stated, staring at them
all with the ferocious determination that had given him the
strength to establish the Golden Empire as a peaceful one. "But
I'll be damned if I'm going to let the Dark Messiah destroy all
I've come to cherish, and not stand against her first. If she wants
Camelot, then she will have to pry Excalibur from my cold, dead
hands to do so!"
     He had ended in an outburst, left panting for breath.
     Venus couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that had seized
her instinct. This was more than a rousing speech for Arthur; the
King was angry, and perfectly willing to follow through with his
actions. Even to the death.
     Magellan risked speaking up again. Not to challenge, but to
state the reality of their situation. "Milord, she destroyed an
entire planet, and now she's come to Earth. We don't know of anyone
who can or has stood up to her, and survived."
     No one could be sure of how the Pendragon would react.
     "I respect both your tenacity and your tact, Magellan," Arthur
stated, the approval echoed in his voice. "You would have made your
father proud, because that is a legitimate question we must face."
     Arthur then shook his head. "However, there is one survivor."
     Merlin abruptly sidestepped, his cloaks fluttering and then
pulling in behind the Ancient to reveal another in their presence. 
     Bangs of wild, icy blue hair hung over a young man's eyes of
a darker blue shade. The garments of his own world he no longer
wore, but now he was dressed in ambassadorial robes tailored to his
body frame. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days, haunted by a
ghost and a dream that refused to give him rest.
     Once a princess herself, Venus knew the young man instantly.
"Helios," she whispered.
     "Prince Helios of Aurora," Arthur stated. "Many valiant
samurai lost their lives ensuring he could escape to Earth, along
with Aurora's most powerful source of magik, the Golden Crystal.
But he has seen the Dark Messiah fight, and in this we can find our
edge."
     Helios stepped forward.
     Averted his eyes from everyone else's gaze.
     And told the gathering what he could remember, what he could
recount before his voice grew choked and the tears fought to flow
down his face. There was still vibrant life in his expression,
unbridled emotion barely kept in check with each word he spoke; he
had yet to come to grips with the tragedy that had befallen his
family, his homeworld.
     "We have his detailed report of this on file," Lancelot said,
standing up quickly. The focus was taken away from Helios, letting
the Auroran prince mourn in private. "I suggest you all take a
close look at it before the battle."
     "What's to become of Helios now?" Venus asked.
     Silence.
     Even Arthur resignedly avoided her gaze.
     Helios had become an orphan, and right now no one could afford
to be his family, his friends. The Auroran prince was truly alone.
Venus could almost feel her own heart break, her fists clenching
tighter. She opened her mouth to protest, to angrily demand why he
could be forgotten and abandoned like this, but someone else cut
her off.
     "Milord," Magellan said, stepping forward. "I am willing to
pledge my life and my sword to protecting Aurora's prince. I ask
you if I may be allowed to watch over him as if he were my own
brother."
     Murmurs ran through the assembly.
     Venus turned to Magellan, the smile on her face dispelling the
surprise in her eyes. Her hand sought his out and gave it a
reaffirming squeeze.
     Helios could only stare at Magellan, a melange of gratitude,
confusion and sorrow mirrored in his expression all at once. So
many thoughts were fighting for control of his emotions, and so he
was unable to say anything. There would be time later to speak and
be listened to. For now, recounting the nightmare upon Aurora had
drained whatever strength he had managed to find over the past
week.
     Abruptly a stir of echoes rippled inside Magellan's mind, and
he heard words meant only for him. "I shall visit you shortly,"
Merlin said, watching him but saying nothing. The eyes said it all.
"We will discuss the matter of Helios then."
     Magellan nodded, ensuring he made eye contact with the mage.
     With that, King Arthur stood for his final words. "Gentleman,
I suggest you ready your men for battle. My remaining Knight
Commanders will brief you individually. The battle will most likely
begin at dawn, two days hence."
     Everyone saluted him, save for Venus. She instead bowed her
head in respect.
     Glass returned to walls once more.
     The room of the Round Table was silent as Arthur left,
followed by the five remaining Knight Commanders. Merlin placed a
hand on Helios' shoulder, and the two of them flickered out of
sight. That left everyone else remaining to begin their hushed
whispers. Many got up and moved towards the door.
     Magellan and Venus stayed where they were against the wall.
"Something's wrong," Magellan whispered to her. "Did you see the
way he was acting?"
     "Yes," she answered. "His words, his behavior, even the way he
sat; he's certain he will not live to see the end of this battle."
     Magellan pushed off the wall, a somber expression on his face.
"None of us might survive. But I hope we're both wrong, Myung. I
truly do." 
     Venus nodded, looking down at the floor with worried eyes. "So
do I."


     He was there from the beginning.
     He was there for it all.
     A watcher, a voyeur of lives lived and tales told, of battles
lost and won, of loves forgotten and found again. The shadows
became him so much, as if they were him. And in return he named
himself after one such shadow.
     He closed his eyes of blackest heavens, shimmering
constellations possessed inside his two orbs sealed from the rest
of the world. They opened moments later, and he beheld the past. He
beheld a room of circular form.
      A bassinet laid atop a large pedestal within a ring of
pillars. Upon each pillar was inscribed a sacred rune. Nine planets
and thus nine columns, each laying claim to its own marking. The
pillars, like the floor, were carved from marble rock that
shimmered with its own haunting magik. Right now the floor, the
pillars, and even the walls were a dull grey. 
     If called upon, they would become white. And if asked to
conceal, they would become black. It all depended on the request.
But a baby was sleeping here in this place, so the walls remained
dim to encourage a restful night, a slumber filled with a child's
sweet dreams.
     The Raithe approached the bassinet, full of its trim and lace
ribbons and soft swaddling cloth. A cautious hand drew back the
distractions and decorations, and he saw the tiny soul laying there
inside.
     With a cry, a new heart began to beat faster, a hoarse voice
screaming out. A baby girl was born, the first traces of golden
blonde hair but a disheveled mop on her head. Blue eyes with the
brilliance of eternal skies and flawless crystal blinked and then
blinked again, unaccustomed to even this dim light in the room.
     Her mother was killed when the dark forces arrived in search
of the baby. In search of an infant they wanted to control...or
kill. They had stormed into this chamber that was part of the
hallowed halls of a once beautiful castle. 
     A beautiful castle called Ilsa Esylin.
     Now it was reduced to a remnant of only death and despair.
Ripped apart by one of Morgana's attacks when she had been
spreading her wings of destruction for the first time, and seeing
how flight as an angel of death suited her. Arthur never knew she
was behind the castle's demise.
     No one did save those of Ilsa Esylin.
     And they all died that night.
     This baby's father was presumably killed in this very room.
     The rogue group of roving marauders who called themselves the
Shadow army were blamed. Morgana controlled the first seeds of
rebellion even then; grudges and ambition buried since childhood
had a habit of revealing themselves eventually. Grow to a blossom
of twisted hatred and maddened lust for power if nurtured properly.
And Morgana had proven to be without equal.
     Eyes of midnight heavens narrowed at a falsified death, and
all for the sake of the future. All for the sake of the little life
laying here in the bassinet. The Raithe let the baby child grab
hold of his finger, her petite hand curled around the tip.
     She gazed up at him with innocent wonder.
     Tiny lips mouthed tiny words.
     Do you love me?
     This child, this infant...she had a name. Not one that would
be chosen for her, but one she had already chosen for herself. One
that was whispered on the winds of magik. He knew it, had known it
from the beginning. 
     And there was a reason.  
     "Serenity...my beautiful daughter," he whispered. A finger
trailed along her cheek, and she seemed captivated by his face. "I
wish I could be your father, but it would appear destiny has other
paths for us to walk."
     He abruptly stepped back, watched a nursemaid frantically
gather the baby in her arms. He saw another man stalk inside, one
who looked frighteningly like him, save that midnight eyes were now
a sparkling blue.
     The Raithe ran his palm over the curve of the back of his
neck, brushing against the faded copper hair the two versions
shared. He watched in silence as the nursemaid slipped through a
secret passage, baby Serenity in her arms. And then he watched this
"human" Raithe draw his sword and hold at bay the many assassins
who came.
     Two enemies became three.
     The three became four.
     And the four became six.
     The Raithe with the blue eyes fought valiantly, fiercely, but
fell regardless. A well-placed longsword through his chest, its
blade stained in blood as it punched through his back, ended the
battle. 
     Hours passed.
     Shadows came and left, and returned again in vain search for
the baby. They would eventually realize their failure and give
chase. Give chase all the way to Elfhame, and then lose Serenity's
scent entirely. Morgana would kill them for that.
     But Ilsa Esylin was left to its melancholic rubble.
     And the other Raithe, the Raithe with the blue eyes...he
suddenly got up when he should have been dead. Brushed the dust off
his cloak and armour and then looked out to the setting sun. Ochre
hues caught his eyes.
     Blue turned to black.
     Stars returned.
     The Raithe closed his own eyes.
     Listened to his newborn daughter's coo.
     But that was a memory, a vague image amidst many that would
forever remain in the past. Untouchable save for a nostalgic
recollection. Unchangeable save for what he was doing now.
     The Raithe's eyes opened once more, and he returned to the
present, to standing on the edge of heaven. White tiled floors
stretched out before him, and behind him, and all around him. He
surveyed the grand promenade of Castle Charon, the dim illumination
playing with the shimmer in his own eyes.
     "You're back, I see," Charon's voice stated.
     The Raithe nodded. "Miss me?"
     "To be perfectly honest, I feel safer with the current
management than I ever did with you."
     "Yare yare," the Raithe sighed, rolling his eyes. "I hand you
over to Setsuna, and suddenly you've got attitude."
     "I learned it from you," Charon bluntly retorted.
     With a slight burst of laughter, the Raithe made his way
across the expansive promenade. Fountains and plants were passed
by, and he stopped upon reaching a large open section of the floor.
The shakujyo was released, left to hover in the air beside him. An
outstretched palm was lifted up the starry heavens.
     And then the air rippled.
     Took form. 
     Became a ringed piano which hovered off the ground, not unlike
the one he had once played upon Aurora. Despite the many keys that
encircled the instrument, there was a small bench for a single
player awaiting him.
     The Raithe left his shakujyo behind, and sat down. "Think
she'll ever figure out where the pool table is?" he inquired.
Fingers ran lightly over the keys, feather touches ensuring that
the stillness of the promenade was kept intact just a few moments
longer.
     "I'll make a point of informing her the next time she comes
here," Charon answered glibly. "With the other Outer Senshi
present, I'm sure they can have a tournament or something to while
the decades away."
     The Raithe smirked, resting his head against his hand as he
sat at the ringed piano. "A shame I won't be around to see that."
Centuries of practice at the game tended to make one a pool shark.
He had to laugh at that idea; only here could he play a game that
would have to wait a few more centuries to be invented.
     He looked up to the dome overhead, as if up there somewhere
was the heart that was Charon. "We had some good times though,
didn't we?"
     "Hai."
     A finger idly pushed down on one of the keys. A single note
sounded, echoing across the expansive corridor. 
     "You're not coming back again, are you?" Charon asked.
     He nodded, toying with a second note. This one rang out smooth
and clear in pitch, finely tuned to perfection. The second note was
joined by a third, and the third a fourth. 
     "Pluto will be your master and companion now," the Raithe said
to his old friend amidst the music that was being created. "My
duties are almost fulfilled."
     Strange as it was to imagine, 'Onee-san' had expressed a
sadness, that 'she' would miss him. In some ways, he supposed he
would miss Setsuna's surrogate older sister...no matter how
abstract that was to ponder, given how their Onee-san seemed to
exist as the timestream itself.
     "I remember when I first found this castle," he said, looking
out to the vast array and constellations of stars. "When you came
online, one of the first things you said to me was that you were
suddenly worried about your future prospects."
     "That's because you threatened to paint me bright pink."
     He shrugged nonchalantly. "I threatened to paint the castle
bright pink, not you personally."
     "There's not much of a difference," Charon stated, its tone
still unimpressed with the concept of a chiffon-coloured castle in
high orbit over Pluto.
     The Raithe considered this. "Ara ara," he admitted, his
fingers dancing across the keys. "Point taken."
     He became silent, lost and happily entranced with the melody
that was being brought back to life by his moving fingers. Notes
sounded, developing a rhythm. Though for once it held more a
haunting sadness than a haunting beauty. It was slower than the way
he usually played it. 
     The impact it made did not diminish.
     And so the Raithe continued to play upon the ringed piano,
singing quietly the words he had once thought to have forgotten.

     "Gomen ne sunao janakute
      Yume no naka nara ieru
      Shikou kairo wa shooto sunzen
      Ima sugu aitai yo

      Nakitaku naru you na moonlight
      Denwa mo dekinai midnight
      Datte junjou doushiyou
      Haato wa mangekyou...."

     This song had returned to his memories after he met with
Serenity before the Elven mirror. She knew this song, sang it
quietly to herself when she was alone. It was that song which
echoed of her magik, and ultimately a song whose origins came from
her. He had played it once, in a time of quiet intimation after her
birth. Then twice for Setsuna; he had lied to her in saying she was
the only one to have heard it. 
     This song was the lullaby he had once played to a baby girl,
to a baby Serenity while she laid sleeping. That was the first time
the mark of the crescent moon appeared. And beyond a shadow of any
future doubt, he knew she was the one.
     The Raithe abruptly stopped playing, closed his eyes as he
fought the urge to fall prey to the haunting memories that refused
to let him go. That night Ilsa Esylin fell, the night he had let
her mother and his beloved wife die, was the night he had lost
almost all his own humanity.
     "Nausicaa," he whispered.
     He had loved her.
     Had spent all the time in the world trying to find another way
for this to happen, to protect her and their baby girl. And found
there could be no other way. Just as there was no other way to save
Aurora.
     Midnight eyes opened up once again. Fingers found the keys and
notes, and continued the song.
     There was still a chance to save Earth.
     The Messiah of Light was the soul Setsuna would have to find
by herself. It was the only way the future could take shape to
become the beautiful reality he only saw in dreams. One his
daughter could find peace within. And so he played the Moonlight
Denketsu one final time, for himself.
     No longer was it his own private piece to treasure.
     But perhaps...perhaps it was better this way.
     The Raithe turned his head upon hearing the sound of a gentle
wind blow past his seated form. And he could hear in there a voice.
And so he listened. It spoke of the future and of duty, and of a
collision between them that he could no longer delay.
     Slowly the Raithe let the last notes of the song come to an
unfinished end, his fingers pulling away from the keys. For so long
he had lived for the future, for the glimpses of tomorrow he could
catch when he slept. And now he saw himself no longer a part of
that future. 
     The night was falling. The demons were lurking. And before he
left the piano, the Raithe clung to the gentle tears cried by a
beautiful angel lost upon the Earth.
     His time had come.
     His eyes looked upwards to the expansive space and stars
beyond the castle. "Sayonara, Charon. It's been fun."
     "Hai. Take care of yourself."
     A smile tugged at the edges of his lips. A familiar and
playful smile, of enjoying the knowledge he possessed. "I always
have, even when I'm taking care of everyone else."
     The Raithe began to walk away from the piano.
     "Ne," he added, looking back over his shoulder. "I have one
last task for you, Charon...."


     "Something wrong?" Venus asked him.
     Magellan gave a half-hearted shrug, still lost in his thoughts
as they walked down on of Camelot's multitudes of corridors. "I
keep going over in my head what you found in the Venus mainframe,
about the Senshi Wars," he said. "You think this might be the Chaos
entity returning?"
     "I don't think so," Venus countered. Though he would have
preferred otherwise, she had decided to remain in her sailor battle
fuku. If anything, it was to boost the morale of the troops and
give them a hope. "If Chaos had found its way here, it wouldn't be
serving anyone. Odds are it would have already wiped out life on
half the planets. This Dark Messiah seems to be acting under
someone else's orders."
     The two stopped at one of the large atriums, looking at the
towering glass windows that gave them access to seeing the
beginnings of the sunrise. Red and orange hues were striking the
sprawling cityscape, an entire horizon bathed in the colours of the
rising sun. They had been awake for over a full day now. Strange
how he was still able to think as clearly as he was.
     Adrenaline had a way of doing that.
     "I don't buy it," Magellan said. "This Mistress Nine
annihilates a planet on a whim, and then decides to become a
harbinger for hire on Earth?" He shook his head, a frown marring
his face. "There's something else going on here, Myung; something
that even Arthur and Merlin may be unaware of. I can't shake the
feeling that this war means more to the future than any of us can
imagine."
     Venus nodded. "If we Sailor Senshi are being revived, then it
can only mean there's more to this battle than we know."
     The only question remained, the enigma she was now trying to
decipher, was what this significance meant. They were both
privately intimating on its mysteries, having long since exhausted
any ideas they could have pooled from each other. The two left the
atrium and continued down another corridor towards the location of
Vlatmere's troops.
     They came to an intersection.
     And found Merlin awaiting them.
     "Come with me," the Ancient instructed. He turned and moved
down one of the other halls, his dark cloak billowing out behind
him. Magellan and Venus followed in suit, drawing up beside him.
The corridor they walked was empty, and the echo of their footsteps
seemed to resound from one end to the other. After being in the
middle of Camelot's bustle, arriving in a deserted area was a
little eerie.
     Merlin glanced over at Venus, idly stroking his chin as he
appraised her. "You're not quite what I expected a Senshi to look
like," he admitted, glancing down at the skirt. "Neither of you
are, for that matter.
     He took another few steps before realizing that Venus and
Magellan had frozen in their pace, a look of shock on their faces.
"'Neither'?" Magellan repeated, sounding uncertain if he had heard
right.
     Venus stared at the Ancient, her blue eyes wide in surprise.
"You mean that others have awakened?"
     Merlin remained cool under their demanding gazes. "Surprised
as you may be to know this, you're not the first Senshi I've
encountered lately," he stated.
     "Then there are other Senshi," Venus pressed.
     The look of hope on her face had returned.
     "I suppose," Merlin said. "I'm not certain if I should even be
telling you this--but I cannot deny the feeling that you and her
will be encountering each other soon. The woman I met is Sailor
Pluto, the guardian of time. I haven't the slightest idea how long
she's been around for."
     The elation on Venus' face faded, replaced with something
else. Something she didn't ask verbally, but questioned never the
less. Magellan knew what she was thinking: why hadn't Sailor Pluto
appeared to them yet?
     "She's fairly old for her age, even if her appearance is
deceiving," Merlin added. "You surprise me, Princess Myung. You're
quite young for your age."
     Venus' hand grabbed hold of Magellan's arm, and even Magellan
seemed to become defensive. That had been a carefully-guarded
secret, and those who knew understood the implications of what
might happen if Myung was discovered. In that moment, Venus
regarded Merlin as a possible threat.
     Somewhat amused by this, Merlin chuckled to himself before
giving her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Milady; there are many
other secrets besides your true identity that have been locked away
in my mind. I can merely see through the illusion your fuku's magik
is invoking, and I have no intention of letting what I know slip
out."
     Still a little wary, Venus could only nod.
     "Are we going to see Helios?" Magellan asked, tactfully
changing the subject.
     Merlin nodded. "His chambers are this way."


     Wintry blue eyes looked vacantly at the room around him. A
luxury suit, reserved for visiting ambassadors and royalty. This
guest chamber was one of the best Camelot had to offer, that much
was assured. Half the room was one long, curved glass window that
stretched from floor to high ceiling. From here one could see the
magnificent expanse the city, with the Crystal Tower pointing
towards the skies that were now on fire from the sun's rays.
     He let the sunlight illuminate his room by day, and by night
the shimmering array of Camelot's lights. The lighting in the room
remained untouched. Numerous enchanted lanterns were scattered
across the room; not a single chandelier was present. 
     The floors were hardwood, and many small yet beautiful flowers
found places built into the walls or placed on pedestals or
arranged on the floor to add to the beauty of this room.
     It almost felt like home.
     Helios' spirits crashed once more, like they had so many times
in the past few days. Sunlight and darkness had long become a blur
of relived pain. The fourpost bed, and its boggling multitude of
puffed-up throw pillows, had been rarely slept in. The sheets had
yet to be disturbed. If he managed to get any sleep at all in the
day, it was always when he curled himself up into a ball at the
foot of the bed.
     The anxiety over the meeting had kept him awake all night. The
desire to close his eyes, lower his guard and surrender himself to
sleep was growing more a temptation with each passing minute. But
he was waiting for Merlin, and so he kept himself awake.
     Sometimes pain had a use after all.
     How could he sleep with it stabbing at his delicate heart?
     "Hotaru," he whispered.
     His fingers clenched into a ball, nails cutting into his skin
and drawing blood as his fists shook. Frustration and fury was all
there as he gazed out at Camelot.
     What had happened to her?
     Why had his raven-haired angel become that demoness?
     The last hour spent upon his homeworld was one racked with
vicious and unrelenting memories that he feared would never give
him peace. He had watched as his father was torn in two, and then
witnessed Reika be cut to pieces in protecting him.
     Helios opened his hands, oblivious to the trickles of blood
that ran down his one palm and dripped scarlet droplets onto a
flawless floor. The air between his palms rippled in distortion,
growing heated and sparking with a magik he did not wish to be kept
hidden forever. 
     The Golden Crystal appeared, hovering before him.
     Its radiance was almost blinding, but he endured it.
     When he had first proven himself worthy of being the Crystal's
protector, it had given him such peace to simply bask in the
presence of its magik. Yet now he felt nothing. Just a hollow
emptiness inside, a gaping maw of darkness that was swallowing him
up.
     He had sworn to protect the pillar of Aurora, and its people.
And failed. 
     "What good am I without a kingdom?" he demanded, his voice
hushed and broken. "What good are you if you have nothing left to
support with your magik?
     A tear fell upon the surface of the glowing gemstone.
     The Golden Crystal responded.
     Helios' eyes widened as he found himself plunged into the
past, into a treasured memory that had been forgotten in his
mourning. But it was a treasured memory that did not wish to remain
forever buried.
     It had not been the best of times or places for a prince to
be. 
     But no one was aware he had slipped away.
     Helios stood amidst a garden of pools and canals, steam from
the heated waters billowing out into the cool night air. The
reflections upon the pools' surfaces seemed to be drinking in the
liquid starlights, ever thirsty. 
     Reika had just been defeated.
     And so Hotaru had come to this place to wash the battle's
sweat from off her smooth, pale skin. She had never objected when
she saw him at the pool's edge. Her own body was partially
submerged in the waters, her soaked ceremonial dress clinging to
the contours of her body while its edges floated on the surface of
the water. 
     Helios lifted his head, saw himself standing far above Hotaru.
He watched without words as the dreamt Helios stepped off the edge
and plunged into the pool. His white uniform was soaked through, as
he flipped aside some of his icy blue hair. Hotaru laughed and
smiled.
     Smiled as if nothing else mattered but this quiet moment.
     The dream continued, Helios and Hotaru drawing close together
as the steam rolled around them, their lips pressing as they drank
from a shared kiss.
     Memory faded.
     Helios returned to the guest room, and the Golden Crystal had
once again vanished. The beating of his heart had quickened while
his entire being had grown calm. That was the Hotaru he had fallen
in love with, the Hotaru he wanted to marry and become his queen.
He refused to believe the young samurai who had saved him from his
own shadow side had become this vindictive Dark Messiah. Hotaru
wasn't like that. She was the one he had loved ever since their
first encounter on Aurora's tidal shores. Her violet eyes and
raven-dark hair....
     Wintry blue eyes sealed themselves.
     "Iie," he said to himself, in a voice full of numbing pain.
"She is not Hotaru. She cannot be Hotaru."
     Helios turned away from the window as his chamber door was
opened. Merlin stepped through; an unusual event, given how
virtually every other time in the past, the Ancient had simply
appeared without knocking. The Auroran prince understood why this
was the exception as two visitors entered behind Merlin.
     "You," he said, recognizing Magellan from the gathering at the
Round Table. He looked away, unable to meet with Magellan's gaze.
"Why are you doing this?" Helios asked quietly.
     Magellan's gaze was solemn yet not without a kindred
compassion. "Because I see myself when I look into your eyes," he
answered. "Because we both lost our fathers before they were meant
to go. They were stolen from us by the same force that now
threatens Earth."
     Helios could only gaze up at him.
     Understanding yet still unbelieving.
     "What you went through is beyond anything I could empathize
with...but I'm not about to let it end there. If ever the Solis
System needed hope, it's now." Magellan looked to Venus, and for a
brief instant he saw the Senshi without her fuku. And Myung looked
so beautiful. Her smile was his hope, and he refused to let it be
taken from him without a fight. "I won't let this war consume you,
Helios. I was at that edge once, but I was pulled back by someone
who cared for me." 
     He looked back to Helios, and extended his hand.
     "Let me be that person for you."   
     Helios hesitated.
     And then stepped forward, embracing Magellan as if they were
blood brothers. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you...."
     Venus smiled to herself as she watched them together. There
was more to Magellan's fragile soul than many knew; Helios was one
of the few who saw the Vlatmere prince being this honest. With both
himself and with those around him.
     Abruptly Merlin cleared his throat, gathering the attention of
the room's occupants. It might have been a touching moment, but
there were other shadows lurking. And time for Camelot was running
out.
     "Mistress Nine seemed to want Aurora's Golden Crystal, though
none of us know why." Merlin glanced over to the bed that had
rarely seen any sleep in it. "The past few days of masking its
presence in Aurora has kept me regrettably preoccupied. And right
now, I am at a loss on how we can continue to keep it hidden,
especially now that Mistress Nine seems bent on marching up to
Camelot's front doors."
     Magellan found an edge upon the bed to sit down on, studying
the floor as he tried to conjure up some miraculous solution. He
barely even noticed he had summoned a yellow rose, twirling its
stem between his fingers. All too quickly he realized he was at a
loss. 
     "I'm sorry," he sighed, shaking his head. It was then that he
noticed the rose in his hands. "I barely know anything about magik,
save that which I can throw."
     Helios turned to Merlin. "Will a Shadowspell work?"
     "Iie," the Ancient answered grimly. "The Golden Crystal is
capable of incredible bursts of magik that would shatter even my
best Shadowspell. One such explosion and Mistress Nine will be
there in a heartbeat."
     "Then I'll control the output of my crystal's magik," Helios
said, desperate to find a way. "Nothing that will overtly break the
Shadowspell."
     Magellan pushed off the bed, took a few steps towards them.
"Won't work. We just might need every last magik we can pull
together to fight Mistress Nine. Hiding you will become a moot
point, and then she'll come after you."
     "What about creating a new world for him?" Myung asked.
Everyone went silent, all eyes turning to her. "We're looking at a
permanent home for Helios," she continued. "But if we can't find a
place here that can cloak his powers from the Dark Messiah, why not
create one?"
     "Can we do that?" Magellan mused, more to himself than anyone
else.
     Helios nodded. Wintry blue eyes focused upon Merlin. "I know
your magik, Merlin-sama. I can feel your power as an Ancient, and
I know that creating such a realm is not beyond your capabilities."
     Long fingers with aged, taut skin stroked the side of Merlin's
chin. He was considering, weighing the implications. For a time he
was silent. "I can create a world for you," Merlin said finally.
"It would consume much of my power, but it can be done."
     "The sooner, the better," Magellan added. "I'd prefer Helios'
new realm constructed before the Shadow army decides to appear. For
his sake and ours."
     "My sentiments exactly," Merlin agreed. 
     This hidden place, ensuring Mistress 9 would not attack it
again unless all of Earth's defenses had fallen first, would be
guarded over by Magellan's family line. It was the duty and the
honour he had chosen to take. As he looked at the hopeful
expression on Helios' face, Magellan held no regrets about making
this choice.
     Merlin turned to the Auroran prince, his open palm slowly
passing before Helios' face. "Sleep," the Ancient said, and Helios'
eyes closed.
     Venus was behind the Auroran prince, and caught him as his
body lost its strength in the quietude of slumber. Magellan helped
her carry Helios to the bed. She took great care to set aside the
pillows covering the head, drawing back the sheets before tucking
Helios beneath them.
     "Sleep well," she whispered, kissing the prince's forehead.
     Magellan came up from behind her and wrapped his arms around
her waist. He didn't want to say anything. Simply savour the warmth
of her body and delight in her compassion. She knew his intentions
and let their bodies sway together slightly, their eyes closing for
a moment shared only between lovers. Where sight meant nothing, and
minds seemed to almost touch and become one.
     Their eyes opened as Merlin crossed the expanse of the suite,
the mage staring out at the windows. The sun had almost finished
rising. And despite the tension, the city was still just as alive
as it ever was. Though today the activity held war at its heart,
and soldiers as its instigators.
     "I never spoke of this to him," Merlin said quietly. "But with
a new world comes a price. In hiding there, Helios will forget
almost everything that happened upon Aurora. The memories of his
planet, his family, and his past will be wiped clean. All that will
remain will be his knowledge of protecting the Golden Crystal."
     There was silence in the room once more.
     Tongues were paralyzed.
     And Magellan broke away from Venus.
     "It seems cruel to decide this for him without his consent,"
she said at last, a sickening vice clamping down on her stomach.
     Merlin nodded, a saddened gaze of his own betraying his
sympathies and regrets. "I know, but there is no other way. I have
been watching Helios' dreams and nightmares; there are some
memories he would refuse to let go of, because right now they are
all he has left to cling to. He remains unable to see the hope in
a new life and a new world."
     "And there's nothing else that can be done?" Magellan asked.
     The Ancient gave a negative response in shaking his head.
     Magellan kept the core of his emotions bottled in, hiding the
frustration. To have made such progress only to learn of a hideous
cost. His jaw clenched, he growled something incoherent and smashed
the base of his palm against the window. The impact was more a
ricochet than direct, and so while the window shook it did not
crack. Likewise with Magellan's hand.
     "There's more," Merlin said, not liking this any more than
they did. "If we want Helios' security ensured, that means his
realm will have to be inaccessible to even the Dark Messiah; the
gateway will become more abstract than any other portal on this
planet. We go through with this, and not even you or I will be able
to call upon the magik of the Golden Crystal."
     They would be fighting this alone.
     Magellan turned to the sleeping prince. He had asked to become
Helios' protector and was granted that request. He knew there would
be risks and consequences. Now there could be no turning back. It
was one of the hardest decisions he had to make, and he was certain
this would not be the last.
     "Do it," he said finally, his voice subdued.
     They stepped back from the bed, leaving Merlin alone before
the Auroran prince. He stood over Helios' sleeping form, a wizened
old man with fishbone white hair and a thin wiry body frame. Magik
stirred, focused and churned within the chambers. And then Merlin's
features melted away to reveal the Ancient he truly was. White hair
became a flowing dark mane, and his skin's pallor became naturally
tanned. 
     The old man was gone.
     In its place was the power of the ancient magiks.
     Palms outstretched over Helios, Merlin's eyes closed as he
began to mutter something in rapid syllables. The sunlight outside
became but the glow of a dwindling candle as a spark erupted from
within the room. It was like watching tamed lightening, arcs
bursting forth and travelling from Merlin's hands to the walls and
ceiling and onto the bed. 
     The covers flickered in and out of existence.
     Helios never awakened as the magik gently picked him up and
cradled him in its heart. A frenzied whirlwind encircled him,
letting him drift and dance through the air. The eye of the storm
was shimmering in the purity and brilliance of the Golden Crystal
as it worked to merge magiks together.
     The events of the next few minutes were hard for even Venus to
describe. As if a multitude of miniature glass panes were appearing
in a piece by peace fashion, creating some sort of labyrinthine
jigsaw puzzle. Helios' image and the storm encircling him became
distorted, everything blurred and out of place with itself.
     Flashes of light began to ignite from each shard of glass. And
then a once transparent window became a reflection. Mirrors were
being forged, cascades of them moving from floor to ceiling.
Magellan could see hundreds of his own small face in the mirrors.
And then suddenly the mirrors decided to reflect what they wanted
to reflect.
     Landscapes.
     A loved one.
     A kiss. 
     The future.
     So many faces and so many strange mysteries, each one
beautiful yet remaining unknown to the masses. So many ambitions
and hopes and dreams captured within these mirrors. One by one the
mirrors began to disappear, fading away with one final flash of
faery starlight. The dominos began to fall.
     And Helios was no longer at their centre.
     Merlin's voice echoed within Magellan's mind as the invocation
reached its frenzied climax. "The secrets of Helios' realm will be
meant only for your family. Protect it from those who would want to
invade it and use the Golden Crystal for dark purposes. Protect the
crystal, and Helios, with your life."
     And so as the magik wove its skein of mirages and mirrors
around Helios' form, Magellan silently listened to Merlin's echo of
words and revelation. 
     The Golden Crystal would become but another legend, quickly
dismissed by many, sought after by a handful, and found by none.
Helios would never remember his family, his homeworld or his time
with Hotaru; the next time he awakened, he would know only his
newfound kingdom. It would be a realm hidden somewhere between
sleep and awake, a world considered the vain fantasy of a romantic,
and the object of a dreamer's obsession. Never quite there, and
never quite realized save for in the hearts of little children, and
the handful of people whose beautiful dreams never age. 
     And it would have a name. 
     Illusion.


     "Why must you pace so?" Morgana inquired, growing agitated
herself as she watched the Messiah of Silence stalk across the
throne room.
     Mistress 9 didn't answer, feeding her own dark thoughts with
the same poison. She was a harbinger of death and destruction. And
yet here she was doing nothing. 
     Nothing!
     The seething demeanor of such uselessness was echoed in every
small movement of her body, the malice of being restricted here
reflected in those violet eyes that darted to each and every
shadow, and glared at them.
     It was like watching a tiger pace its cage.
     The predator wanted out.
     Wanted to hunt and kill again.
     Morgana looked at the faceted diamond in her caduceus, trying
to take her mind off Mistress 9's restless state. And trying to
ignore the growls from Metalia that she was losing control of her
Dark Messiah. "You would be wise enjoy this lull before the storm.
Patience is a virtue."
     "I lack it," Mistress 9 stated, an air of defiance in her
voice. She was unimpressed with her present condition and had no
qualms about making that fact known.
     Morgana leaned forward in her throne. "I don't. I have spent
decades cultivating my patience, refining my wrath and sharpening
it to deliver an even greater deathblow now."
     Mistress 9 growled under her breath. Why she remained this
pitiful creature's lackey was a reason that evaded her. The Dark
Messiah resisted the urge to run Morgana through with her glaive.
In truth, she had come as far as she could with the StarChamber. It
was aligned to create a portal to the distant star cluster where
Pharaoh 90 laid. But what she needed now was a power source. That
Auroran brat had stolen the Golden Crystal from her, denying her
the immense power required to bring her master into this system.
     She had been unable to find a trace signature of that crystal
anywhere. That meant it was being cloaked, and the only place such
a power could be masked was Camelot. She wanted that power. Pharaoh
90 had entrusted her to a duty.
     It was her master, not Morgana.
     And she wanted to make her master happy.
     Mistress 9 stopped before the throne. "Give me the command,"
she stated.
     Morgana scowled, seeing her grip on the Dark Messiah indeed
slipping. It appeared that Camelot would mark the end of this
woman; Morgana would consult Metalia and see to that. But so long
as Arthur fell, the future was hers to seize.
     "Go," she said finally.
     The Dark Messiah's gaze was cold, her face twisting into a
gleefully malevolently smile that made Morgana inwardly shiver.
Mistress 9 took up her glaive. "About time."


     Magellan and Sailor Venus found Frederic personally
overlooking the last of the preparations for the Eastern Army's
base camp. The area around Camelot consisted primarily of vast
fields and low rolling hillsides. It not only gave the sentries an
advantage, but it also allowed the overflow of soldiers to set up
their camps just outside the city without worry of being cut off
from Camelot's support.
     Frederic waved them over as he dismissed a group of soldiers.
All around him were various tables and equipment.
     "How's it look?" Magellan asked as he walked up.
     "This is me we're talking about!" Frederic replied with a
grin. "Vlatmere's mobile army looks perfect. Especially compared to
those slobs with the south-west army. I think they're still trying
to get their communications gear up."
     Venus was unable to contain her amused smile. "And let me
guess, we were the first ones up, right?" she inquired. Despite his
usually tactless sense of timing and humour, she had to admit
Frederic was a logistical genius.
     "Naturally!" Frederic replied, spreading out his arms and
gesturing to the Vlatmere forces behind him.  "Last ones to get
here, but the first ones up on the network! That technically made
us the first ones combat-ready even though we didn't even have the
tents up!"
     Venus turned to Magellan. "He certainly takes pride in his
work," she said. There was both admiration of Frederic's skill, and
a scathing dryness at his over-enthusiasm.
     If Frederic heard the darker edge in her voice, he ignored it.
"I eat, breathe and sleep this kind of work, Myung," he said with
a courteous stage bow. "All these boys here have been trained to
have the precision and audacity to run when everyone else decides
to walk. Accept no substitutes, and never bet on the competition." 
     Frederic leapt onto one of the tables, making a grandiose
gesture. And by this time, he was garnering a crowd of cheering
Vlatmere soldiers.
     "We are the best and the badest, and we are going to march
right up the Dark Messiah's ass before kicking it across the Solis
System!" he proclaimed. "This is what we do for a living, Milady!"
     The soldiers broke into thunderous applause and cheers.
     Frederic shouted with them, his hands triumphantly above his
head as if he was a winning prizefighter. With a euphoric grin he
turned to one of the neighbouring camps. "No one can touch us,
because Vlatmere's the best and the only one there is!"
     "Shut up, Frederic!" someone shouted back from the
neighbouring camp.
     "Well, I see you already made a new friend," Magellan said
dryly. "Lord Wainwright really seems to love you."
     Frederic jumped down off the table, taking a moment to push
back the hair in front of his eyes. "Nah. He's just angry because
my bedside is booked solid for the next two weeks--whereas his
isn't."
     He was breathing heavier from the spontaneous speech.
     And still loving every minute of it.
     Venus could only shake her head at the raging testosterone
around her. "Some boys never grow up," she sighed, walking away.
     "What did I say?" Frederic asked innocently enough as he
watched her walk off.
     Magellan gave his friend an incredulous look. "Oh, don't act
so coy. You know exactly what you're doing; you just want me to
give you an alibi."
     Frederic shrugged in response. "What can I say? That's the way
I am."
     "You're never going to get married at this rate."
     "Who says I want to?"
     Magellan had to laugh. "Well, at the very least you've managed
to get their spirits up. Whatever tension our army's felt seems to
be gone."
     "You can thank me later," Frederic said, grinning as a number
of the soldiers gave him friendly slaps on the back. Now charged
with newfound adrenaline, everyone was returning to their posts and
duties. "In the meantime, I need to bring you up to speed with some
of the strate--"
     Magellan abruptly raised a hand, motioning for silence.
Something else had caught his attention. Sight was doing nothing to
help identify the source, but that didn't stop his entire body from
vibrating.
     "Do you feel that?" he asked, turning to Frederic.
     A low trembling of the earth.
     Steady and rhythmic.
     And it was getting louder, stronger.
     It wasn't just them feeling this either; everyone in the camps
seemed to stop what they were doing and gaze off towards one
horizon line. Nothing could be seen, save for the distant haze of
the morning skies.
     "Whatever's coming our way is pretty damned big," Frederic
said. He snatched one of the visors set on a nearby table, placing
it over his eyes. A few moments of scanning to horizon turned up
nothing. "I can't see anything," he stated. "Heat scans are coming
out negative; if they're our boys, they're probably operating on
stealth mode. These tremors might be coming from underground
too...though I've never known the Shadow army to try that."
     Magellan knelt down, pressed his hand against the trembling
ground. He was certain he recognized this sensation. And he was
expecting the source's arrival too.
     "Get to a higher point," he instructed, looking over his
shoulder to Frederic. "If I'm right, they're barely at the
horizon."
     Frederic sprang onto one of the tables, too preoccupied to
take care where he stepped. A few weapons and some smaller items of
equipment were either kicked aside or just kicked right off the
table. For the uninitiated, it looked as if Frederic was simply
using the visor as a sunscreen.
     Yet the interior of the visor was alive with images, screens
and scrolling data. Developed in close association with Mercurian
scientists, such a visor had more analytical powers compacted into
its small form than some castles' mainframe computers. Vlatmere had
been granted use of the visors to work with the battle skimmer
construction; the visors were a lot easier to work with in field
tests while evaluating the development of the stealth abilities.
     "They're on stealth mode, all right," Frederic said. "I can
make out partial distortions, but that could easily be a mirage
caused by the sunlight. Nothing on heat scanners, and the only
sound I can pick up is the wind and the vibrating ground."
     Abruptly the empty fields far in front of them were no longer
empty. The air rippled violently, everything around it becoming
blurred and warped. And then out from the heart of the distortions
punched four enormous, moving structures. Cylindrical in form,
painted with a faded metallic brown tint not unlike the colour of
the desert sands. A modern comparison would have likened such
things to a submarine wolfpack moving over the land instead of
cutting through the water.
     "They're here," Frederic stated, still working with the visor.
"The battle skimmers have arrived." He looked over his shoulder to
Magellan. "I've already talked with Camelot strategists about how
they want the skimmers deployed. The heavy artillery pair will be
with us on the front lines for the first assault. The troop
carriers will pull around and flank the Shadow armies from behind
to back us up."
     Magellan nodded.
     While the ground tremors were an unavoidable problem due to
the intense fields generated by the hovering crafts, in every other
way the skimmers were undetectable. Once revealed, the enormous
side panels of the skimmers would retract into the body of the
craft, revealing either rows of combat-ready troops...or the
multitude of gun turrets hidden inside. 
     Three skimmers were custom-made for the heavy artillery fire,
the other three for soldier transport. Two of each were here to
help defend Camelot.
     "Are those the skimmers?" Myung asked, stepping in behind
Magellan.
     Frederic recoiled in surprise, practically toppling off the
table. "When did you get back?" he gasped, one hand pushing up the
visor, his other clutching his chest as if his heart was ready to
explode.
     Magellan turned his head, and noticed something different
about his blonde angel. "You're out of uniform," he remarked
quietly to her.
     Myung smiled. "Your men know me better as Myung. I'm more
comfortable like this around them."
     Magellan considered their potential reactions to seeing Myung
in that short pleated skirt. Given their current euphoria courtesy
of Frederic's speech, Myung was better than Sailor Venus. At the
very least, they knew Myung was taken. Ocean blue eyes caught the
reflection of the sun's rays against the Star Sapphire in her ring.
     He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I like you better this
way too."
     "Why is it that Aurora developed all this advanced weaponry 
around magik, anyways?" Frederic sighed aloud, removing the visor
and dropping down from the table. The visor was placed on the
tabletop, and Frederic took the chance to take up his trusted
longbow. "This system's most devastating powers belong to an elite
few--while the rest of us are made to use more conventional and
chivalric means."
     As if to emphasize his point, he ran his hand along the
longbow.
     "What would you prefer?" Myung asked. "These deadly weapons in
the hands of a few malicious magik-wielders, who are outnumbered
and easily rivaled by those magik users who desire peace? Or would
you rather let anyone pick up such a weapon and commit to
lawlessness and chaos?"
     Frederic looked to Magellan for help.
     Magellan had none to offer.
     "The lady knows how to argue," Frederic conceded, almost
ruefully.
     Myung avoided Magellan's gaze, and instead opted to watch the
battle skimmers pull closer to the cityscape of Camelot. It was
quiet knowledge among the high royalty that Aurora ensured it was--
it had been--the primary source of weapons development. What Aurora
created was freely handed to other planets. But the skills of
wielding such devastating powers, magik or otherwise, was placed in
the trust of those who would not abuse their gift. It might seem
unfair to the average soldier, but it kept the peace greater than
anyone imagined.
     Earth, and more importantly Vlatmere, had been given the
honour of being the development centre for Aurora's battle skimmer
profile. The first heavy-artillery attack vehicles, with a limited
hover capacity. Most everything else that relied on magik as an
offensive weapon were single-manned fighters. Nothing as grand as
the skimmers.
     Frederic motioned towards a private tent for them to talk in.
They would still be able to keep an eye on the approaching battle
skimmers while discussing the quieter points of this war. Myung
stayed outside a short time longer, still watching the distant
silhouettes of the skimmers.
     "So," Frederic inquired. "How was the meeting with our King?"
     "Disturbing," Magellan replied as he moved into the tent.
     Frederic winced. "That good, huh?" He took a seat at the
awaiting table, across from the Vlatmere prince. "What happened?"
     "The Shadows are coming here for an all-out assault on
Camelot," Magellan said soberly. "The battle looks like it will
begin in a few days. But that wasn't the really scary part."
     "What was it?"
     Magellan studied the table more than watch Frederic, mulling
over the details himself. "There were only five Knights of the
Round Table remaining. The rest were either killed or seduced to
the Shadows by their leader, a sorceress who calls herself
Morgana." His eyes shifted, ocean blue orbs staring at Frederic.
"There was the way King Arthur himself was acting. It was like he
didn't expect to survive the impending battle."
     Frederic was uncharacteristically quiet for several minutes
before speaking again. "You know, I once heard a rumour that Arthur
had a sister named Morgana. I wonder if it's true?"
     "It's only a rumour, Frederic. Nothing about that story's been
proven."
     "Just because it hasn't been proven doesn't mean it's not
true," Frederic argued. "I don't remember it exactly, but it was
something along the lines that she was a bastard child of some
kind, and became a powerful sorceress. Apparently she felt that she
was the one who should have worn the crown, and has been trying to
get back at Arthur ever since." 
     If that was true, they definitely had problems.
     Frederic leaned back in his chair and tilted his head up to
stare at the ceiling of the tent. "This could get ugly, Magellan.
I mean, really ugly. It's no wonder that King Arthur feels like he
might not live to see tomorrow's end. It would also explain the
power that Healer felt at Myung's crashed shuttle--if Morgana's as
powerful as the rumours say she is."
     "It makes a lot of sense, I agree," Magellan said, nodding.
"But there's more."
     "Do I really want to know?" Frederic asked, continuing to lean
back and stare at the tent ceiling. He was trying to act aloof,
more to calm his own raw nerves than impress the prince.  "I know
ignorance is bliss, but I'm not about to have a rude and fatal
awakening on the battlefield. I'd rather hear it from you."
     Magellan was unable to keep himself calmed enough to sit
comfortably. He pushed back his chair and stood, pacing the
interior of the tent. And he found himself unable to openly state
the ominous knowledge he held. "Look at it this way. They have at
least one very powerful mage in their ranks." He turned to
Frederic, studying the face of his friend and Commander. "Tell me,
Frederic, what destroyed Aurora?"
     "No one knows," Frederic replied, shrugging. He froze moments
later as the revelation came to him. "Shit, Magellan, are you
saying that someone blew up the damn planet?!"
     "Oh, it gets even better," Magellan said soberly. "This
someone has a name and a title. Something about a Dark Messiah
called Mistress Nine."
     "And here I was afraid Morgana was the culprit," Frederic
remarked in his most cynical voice. "Do they know anything else
about her?"
     Magellan shook his head. "Only that it looks like this
Mistress Nine woman is in Morgana's employ. Merlin might know
something else, but if he does he's making sure to keep it a
secret."
     Frederic let all four chair legs touch the ground. He took a
deep breath and pushed off. It appeared the uneasiness in staying
still was contagious. At the very least, pacing gave the illusion
that one was doing something. 
     Anything. 
     "Okay, let's see what we've got so far," Frederic said, taking
a deep breath. "From a strategic stand point, it looks like someone
is intending to bring down the Golden Empire. This would fit with
Morgana's profile, so let's presuppose she's doing this to take
revenge on Arthur."
     "But naturally there would be resistance," Magellan countered.
He could see where Frederic was going with this verbal rationale.
He had watched Frederic strategize an opponent's thought process in
the same way many times in the past; it was almost frightening to
see how the Vlatmere Commander could get into the mind of his
nemesis.
     Myung stepped into the tent, and Magellan quickly signaled for
her to keep quiet.
     "Naturally," Frederic agreed. One of his hands was moving,
rotating as if signifying the motions of his thoughts. "Morgana
would more than likely have anticipated that. Now, the three most
powerful planets in the solar system military-wise are Earth,
Uranus, and Aurora. If I was Morgana, the most dangerous of the
three would be Aurora.
     "Get the Ancients out of the way, and she'd have a much easier
time bringing down the others. So that would mean the destruction
of Aurora was a pre-emptive strike on Morgana's part. And Uranus
would be more concerned with fortifying itself than helping another
planet. Let them bide their time while the Solis System's in
disarray over Aurora's destruction."
     He bit down on his lower lip, growing more and more involved.
Magellan was certain Frederic was barely aware of his presence in
the tent. 
     "She wants to rule the Golden Empire, not obliterate it. So
she then takes down Camelot and Arthur. Everyone else grows
disillusioned, and planet by planet she would retake the system by
force. Uranus would come last, and face the fury the other eight
planets. At the very least, Morgana could rule Earth. The Dark
Messiah would act as the enforcer."
     He abruptly turned to Magellan. "You're certain no one knows
who this Mistress Nine is?" he pressed.
     "All we know is that she decided to make her presence known on
Aurora an hour before it was shattered to pieces. The question
still remains: who has enough power to take out an entire planet?"
     "Another Sailor Senshi," Myung spoke up. 
     Frederic gawked.
     Even Magellan stared at Myung in disbelief.
     "Whoa, hang on," Frederic said, more than a little alarmed.
"What are you talking about? You people are supposed to protect us,
not destroy us. Did this Mistress Nine just not bother to recite
that part of her vow of duty?"
     Magellan felt his stomach do yet another gut-wrenching twist.
He had never considered the Dark Messiah being a Sailor Senshi, but
now that he was it made sense. Against his better wishes too.
"Remember that manuscript," he said to Frederic. "The one Myung's
father made a copy of and sent to us. It had that obscure reference
the Senshi Wars, where Sailor Senshi fought against Sailor Senshi.
We could be dealing with something similar here."
     But if it wasn't the Chaos entity, then what was coming after
them?
     "Then care to tell me how a Senshi got awakened and
subsequently corrupted without anyone's knowledge?" Frederic
inquired harshly. 
     Myung shook her head. "I honestly don't know. I'm certain the
Chaos entity isn't involved, but there's nothing else I know of
that could exercise such dark power over a Senshi."
     Frederic put his hands on his head, trying to hold in the
pressure building up inside. "Well there goes my good mood for the
day. If what you two are saying is true, then in a few days we are
all royally screwed."
     "That's why the three of you are here," a voice said from
behind the group.
     The trio whirled, suddenly on the defensive.
     Frederic lifted his longbow, reaching back for an arrow. A few
futile grasps had him swearing under his breath, realizing that he
had left his quiver somewhere else. Magellan stood between Myung
and the newcomer standing in their presence, a yellow rose in his
hands.
     He lowered the blossom a few moments later.
     "I know you," he said. "You're the Healer who came out to
Myung's shuttle when it crashed."
     "I am pleased you recognize me, Lord Endymion," the mage
replied, bowing. His face was shrouded in the darkness of a hooded
cloak. "It is an honour to be in your presence once again. And I
sense that your magik has finally surfaced. I trust the power was
of good use when the need became apparent."
     Magellan's eyes narrowed. "How did you know about that?"
     "I sensed it in you when I first saw you years ago at one of
your father's receptions," the mage said. "When we met at Miss
Myung's unfortunate accident, I felt the magik once again--only
this time more powerful than before. It was beginning to awaken
then. And now, if you'll pardon the pun, I see it has come into
full bloom."
     Everyone paused and glanced down at the rose.
     "You are very powerful even if what you can actually do is
limited, Lord Endymion," the Healer said. "You are quite possibly
one of the most powerful warriors this planet has ever produced. I
have felt this magik course through the blood of your ancestors,
but it was dormant. In your father it began to emerge...and now in
you the magik has been fully released. And if you wish to survive
the assault, you will have to push the limits of your magik--and
combine it with a gift I have brought for you." 
     That managed to catch the prince's attention.
     Magellan silently admitted he'd need all the help he could
get. The humming ground made him aware of the approaching battle
skimmers, but after the revelation about the Dark Messiah he was
still feeling uneasy. War machines were one thing. A Sailor Senshi
of pure, unbridled evil was in another class--and a superior one at
that.
     "What have you brought for me?" he asked the Healer.
     With that, the mage pulled his robes aside and drew out from
the darkness a small satchel. "I bring you the Armour of Aroth," he
stated, setting the satchel on the table.
     "The...Aroth Armour?" Frederic repeated, looking skeptically
to Magellan. "He's got to be kidding."
     Magellan visibly stiffened in reading the Healer's eyes as
they were caught by a stray beam of sunlight. "No, Frederic, he's
not," he said solemnly, almost distantly.
     "Oh no!" Frederic countered, ready to grab the sack and throw
it off the table. "You're telling me that a demon curse is going to
be what saves Magellan? No offense, but I think he'd be safer
fighting Mistress Nine without it."
     Myung scrutinized the gift; it didn't look anywhere big enough
to contain a full suit of armour. While the satchel itself appeared
harmless, she could feel something radiating from beneath the
cloth. The strange heartbeat of a magik that chilled her. 
     The Venusian princess turned to Magellan. "What is it?"
     Ocean blue eyes were grimly fixated upon the satchel. "They
call it the Demon Armour, because every person who has ever worn it
went insane. They say the armour is permeated with black magik, and
possibly housing the soul of a demon being within. Whomever wears
it becomes possessed, and thus becomes like the demon lurking in
the armour."
     "Like I was saying," Frederic said with a definitive nod.
"He'd be safer fighting Mistress Nine without it. The last thing I
want is for Magellan to suddenly switch sides and join the Dark
Messiah in wiping us out!"
     "That is where you are wrong," the mage said. His voice was
calm and patient, corrective and not about to argue in anger. "The
armour itself is like all magik: it is a neutral force. But the
heart of the person who wears it will determine how the armour
reacts. 
     "I was not the one who forged this armour, so I don't know all
its secrets--but I do know that it will enhance the wearer's
abilities ten fold. It will amplify your strength, your magik...and
unfortunately your emotions. If you are full of anger and hatred,
the armour will feed off that; it will intensify that desire and
you will become a vicious, cold-blooded killer. In the past no one
has proven themselves worthy of wearing Aroth's Armour. You, Lord
Endymion, will be the first to wear the armour as it was created to
be used."
     "And what makes you think it won't possess him?" Frederic
demanded.
     "I'm inclined to agree," Magellan added. "What guarantees do
I have of my own safety?"
     The Healer sighed. Myung could hear the teacherly air in his
breath, trying to let his pupils learn without letting them rush
ahead into something they didn't understand. "You weren't paying
attention to my words," he chided them. "The armour itself cannot
possess you; only your emotions are vulnerable to its influence.
Everyone who has ever worn this armour in the past was weak, and
succumbed to their dark thoughts. They became murderous lunatics,
who ultimately killed themselves because of the madness."
     A self-made poison.
     Magellan could already mentally draw a few parallels and
differences between the nature of the armour, and the forbidden
Shokkan sorcery. This Armour of Aroth was very much like a double-
edged sword. Incredibly dangerous to one's enemy...and dangerous to
its wielder if used improperly.
     "You, however," the Healer continued. "are strong enough to
use the armour to its fullest power. I can feel it in you, Lord
Endymion. You are the one who was meant to wear the armour. You,
and no one else."
     Magellan looked down at the satchel with trepidation. The
power and its curse were laying there before him, waiting to be
accepted if he in turn accepted the risks. He knew Arthur's forces
needed the extra strength--but at the same time, if he lost it he
could easily turn on them. Become the demon he wished to destroy.
     The conflict he wrestled with was caught within his eyes, and
Myung saw it. She wanted more than anything to assure him that he
would not lose control. But that assurance was not hers to give.
She could not guarantee for Magellan what he himself was in doubt
of.
     And so she slipped her hand next to his, letting their fingers
lace together. "Magellan," she said quietly, giving him a
reaffirming squeeze. "Out of everyone I know, you are the only one
who has the strength and compassion to keep the kind of control you
would need over armour's power. I doubt even I have what it takes
to watch my emotions."
     Magellan looked into her eyes; she truly believed what she was
saying. Ever since her unexpected arrival, he had found her to be
the anchor he was lost without. Mentally and emotionally, she kept
him honest, with himself and with those around him. She had
challenged so much of what he had once believed, and despite that
he loved her.
     If she believed in him, then he would take a chance and
believe in her.
     "Okay," he said, turning back to the Healer. It was time to
give his verdict. "I'll wear it under one condition: if I begin to
lose control, you three will do everything in your power to stop
me. Even if it means my death." Magellan scanned the faces of the
others. Is that clear?"
     Frederic nodded. As a soldier he understood the risks and
consequences of this. "Just make sure that if it consumes you, you
come out an angel and not a demon," he stated.
     The Healer nodded. "I cannot guarantee I'll be there if you do
descend into the madness, but I will use all my powers to stop you
should that happen."
     Myung hesitated, the ring upon her finger suddenly making its
presence known to her.
     "Myung," Magellan pressed. "Please promise me this."
     Reluctantly, she nodded. She didn't want to believe that it
would ever come to such a tragic end, but as a Senshi she had to be
prepared for it. If for anything, to free the one she loved from
being a prisoner in the arms of a dark magik. She would honour his
promise.
     "It is done," the mage stated. "The armour is yours, Lord
Endymion. And I do suggest you try it on before you go into battle.
I need to show you how to use it."
     "Sounds reasonable enough," Magellan agreed, reaching for the
satchel.
     He was surprised with how light it was when he picked it up.
Doubts of it being of any use against a blade or arrow clouded his
confidence in the armour. And then when he looked inside, he became
even more concerned about the claims of its guardian power. 
     Magellan tilted the satchel upside down and let the contents
fall to the table with a clatter. There was awkward silence as
everyone stared at the pieces in question.
     Frederic looked down at the armour. 
     Then up at the mage.
     And then back down at the armour.
     "This is supposed to protect him?" he remarked, not bothering
to hide the disbelief and sarcasm in his voice. "He would probably
last longer if he walked onto the battlefield naked. The shock from
his enemies seeing him like that would give him a window of
opportunity for at least two or three seconds."
     "Thank you for that wonderfully vivid image," Magellan
retorted. He turned to a giggling Myung. "You tell no one of that."
     She glanced over at Frederic, who was suddenly trying to
conceal the lopsided grin on his face. Seconds later they both
broke out into poorly-controlled snickers.
     "I don't need this right now," Magellan lamented, rubbing his
temples. "So these flimsy pieces of metal are supposed to protect
me?"
     The mage nodded. "Not merely 'supposed to'. They will, and
better than anything else you could find."
     There were six pieces of what appeared to be dried-out bone
plates: four smaller, narrower pieces, and then two large, broad
plates. Magellan looked up at the mage with confusion. 
     "I don't see a way of holding these pieces in place," he said.
     "The two broad plates are the chest and back plates," the
Healer explained, pointing to the items he was discussing. "The
longer pair of the narrow ones go on your shins; the shorter pair
are meant for your forearms. You will need to take off your current
armour first, though."
     Magellan nodded.
     With Frederic's assistance he removed the armour already on
his body. The cool morning air felt good against his sweaty skin,
and it was a relief to have all the extra weight off. Metallic
armour was placed on the table next to demon armour. The Armour of
Aroth looked pathetic next to Magellan's regular protection. 
     "This won't stop a rock, let alone a sword," Frederic
muttered. He grabbed one of the shorter pieces and held it up. "And
how the hell are we supposed to fasten this on? There's no latches
or straps of any kind on these things."
     "Like this," the mage said as he grabbed the armour from
Frederic's hands. He took hold of Magellan's left hand and slapped
armour plating onto the forearm. When he drew his hand away, the
plate stayed in place without any use or apparent need of
restraints. 
     Magellan moved his arm around and was surprised to see it stay
in place. "Impressive," he remarked, bending his arm to test his
mobility.
     "And now for the rest," the Healer said. 
     A few seconds later, all six pieces of armour in place.
     Magellan appraised himself, but still didn't know half of what
was going on. He was just amazed with the fact that everything was
staying in place despite his movements. "Now what?" he asked.
     The mage grinned. "Just watch."

     
     And standing just outside the tent was an Ancient.
     Merlin smiled and shook his head. "You've got a hell of a way
of doing things," he remarked quietly, taking his leave and letting
Magellan practice in peace. "I'm just impressed you decided to mask
yourself for once."
     "Ano...Merlin?" the Raithe's voice abruptly spoke up. "I'm
over here."
     The expression on the Ancient's face was priceless as he
whirled to look from the mysterious Healer with Magellan, to the
enigmatic Raithe grinning and seated upon one of the tables.
     "Surprise," the Raithe said with a chuckle. "Oh, come now,
Merlin. Surely you didn't think I held the keys to every little
secret of the Messiah Wars."
     He was dressed in the uniform of a Vlatmere soldier, complete
with body armour. The shakujyo was still being carried in his grip,
metallic rings giving off another chime that echoed across the army
camps. Yet he also wore a pair of tinted lenses to hide eyes that
reflected the starry lights of the cosmos.
     "What do you think?" he inquired, raising his hands for
Merlin's appraisal. "I figure after a few centuries of the same
outfit, I'm about due for a change."
     Merlin failed to fully hear the humour behind the Raithe's
words, still preoccupied with the mysterious guest in their midst.
His aged body was growing tense as the last remnants of his magik
twitched, ready to come to life; there was no way of knowing if
that alleged Healer was a threat to both Magellan's life, and to
the safety of Camelot.
     "So who is our uninvited guest?"
     "No need to get paranoid," the Raithe said reassuringly,
patting Merlin on the shoulder. "That one's on our side."
     Merlin studied the bent figure of the Healer, and could see
nothing that would reveal one way or another where the mage's
loyalties lied. "What is he then?"
     The Raithe shook his head. "I don't know. Something just as
powerful--and possibly just as old--as we are. But it's here to
protect Earth, so I suggest you not stand in its way. I have a
feeling that armour's going to prove immensely useful in the next
few hours."
     With that, he adjusted his uniform and headed back towards
Camelot. Merlin quickly caught up with him, the two Ancients
walking through the ranks of Vlatmere's soldiers without being
noticed. The Raithe looked like one of their own, and they knew who
Merlin was. In their minds there was no reason to worry.
     "You used up all your magik, I see," the Raithe remarked, a
little more serious than before. "You could barely get a spark
going when you thought that mage was an enemy."
     Merlin nodded. In creating Illusion, his magik was at its
lowest possible ebb. He held no more ability to wield magik, and
that would remain so for a long time. Days if not months would pass
before he could regain his strength and invoke such power once
more. As a result, he was going to disappear before the battle, and
wait until he was actually useful again in the war against the Dark
Messiah. 
     If there ever would be a second chance.
     That was a risk he had to be willing to take: a future hope at
the risk of a present sacrifice.
     "Was it foolish of me to do so?" he asked.
     "It's not our place the second-guess the future," the Raithe
said. "You gave Helios a dreamworld because you felt certain it was
what had to be done."
     And now it was time to see what Camelot's soldiers could
accomplish on their own, and against incredible odds.
     "The battle's almost ready to begin," Merlin said quietly.
"One which you practically orchestrated into being. Are you not
going to stay and admire your handiwork?"
     The Raithe shook his head, glancing at his reflection caught
by the polished surface of his shakujyo's garnet orb. "I have a
destiny with the moon, Merlin," he answered. "Yours remains here on
Earth."
     Merlin stopped walking, staring at the only other Ancient left
alive after Aurora's destruction. "So...this is your final hour?"
     The Raithe paused in departing. He never looked back, but
instead spoke a single word: "Sayonara."
     And then he was vanished once more.
     Merlin let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Just when I
think I know what to make of these Messiah Wars," he muttered to
himself ruefully. For as much as he, an Ancient, did know, there
was a lot more he wasn't a party to. And while it annoyed him a
great deal--especially now with the stakes higher than ever before-
-he'd grown accustomed to it.
     Lacking the power for a teleporting incantation, Merlin was
resigned to walk back through the castle. An hour later found him
within Camelot's most inner walls. Down the corridor laid his
private chambers, where he continued to search for the Dark
Messiah. Whatever Shadowspell was at work in masking both Morgana's
armies and Mistress Nine, it was certainly a powerful one. Merlin
found himself ruefully admiring the prowess in such a construction
and execution of illusion.
     But Camelot had only days left.
     After that, nothing remained certain.
     "Merlin!"
     He turned his head as he heard his name frantically called.
One of the Knight Commanders was racing down the halls towards him.
"What is it, Galahad?" he asked.
     Galahad came to a stop, not even bothering with any form of
formal gesture or salute. "They're here. Point sentries report the
mobilization of what looks to be the entire Shadow army. They're
coming out of the damn shadows like ghosts, and they're headed
straight for Camelot."
     Merlin felt his blood run cold.
     The Shadows were almost two days early.
     "Morgana must have grown impatient," he remarked icily.
     Or else the Dark Messiah had.
     He would have to place his bets on the latter.
     Merlin turned his head, staring grimly at the distant horizon
line through the windows. He could see the battle skimmers almost
within reach of Camelot's outer walls.
     "This is it," he stated, turning to Galahad. "Sound the alarm.
The war's about to begin."



                THE WAR IN HEAVEN FALLS TO EARTH.

                CHRONICLES OF THE MESSIAH WARS....





Thanks:

     To Sailor Skuld, who's been incredibly supportive of my
     efforts to finish what Dark Messiah began. It's nice to know
     that I can annihilate a planet, and she lets me get away
     with it. ^^


     To Todd Foster, my Messiah Wars counterpart. A number of the
     scenes between Magellan, Frederic and Myung are my own
     retelling of a story that he has already created. My 
     humblest thanks goes out to him for all the contributions
     he's made to the CoT: Infinity trilogy, and the patience 
     he's shown in letting me rework his tale into my own.