Finally the guard's head nodded and fell asleep
onto his chest. A slight snore came from his
still form, and the only other noise was the
crackling of the dying fire, their only protection
from the thick darkness surrounding the country.
No one heard or saw the
cloaked man clamber over the massive wall,
stepping lightly past the snoring sentry. He
looked over the vast courtyard, searching for
anything that possibly could announce his arrival.
No dogs slept in the corners, or at least, any that
He could detect with at a quick glance. He hoped
That they had all been kenneled for the night, and
The strays tied securely.
Quickly he dropped down off of the wall to
the inside of the yard, then moved around to the
castle itself, carefully remaining hidden within
the shadow. No one could have spotted him now,
for his black cloak blended perfectly with the
black of the night, and seemed to devour any light
that could illuminate the figure.
He was a shadow, a phantom, a thief.
A thief intent upon any royal treasure he
could find laid causally in the rooms of those in
residence.
The only trick to it was ascending the high
walls to the open windows.
Low garden walls rose ominously to his left,
and a set of barracks across the yard to his right.
Up above him were a number of windows, royal bedrooms
judging from the fabrics that made their curtains.
The white of the fabric drew him like a moth till he
was standing directly underneath the windows.
Luckily for him, the stones that made up the
outer portion of the wall was rough, with many footholds
and handholds to make it up to the windows. Up he
climbed, like a black fly on a white table cloth,
the black coat he wore was painfully striking against
the white limestone. He hoped that no one looked
towards the castle, for if they did, he would be
dead in a matter of minutes.
But no one did look up, or if they had, they
were either stupid or far to drunk to give any
alarm. Silently he gripped the edge of the window,
and hauled himself over the edge, perching on the
sill like a bird.
The large reception chamber was ornately decorated
with imported furniture, glass goblets, and at least
ten books, several open for study on the table, the
others shelved neatly between ivory stands.
Books that could bring him several gold pieces
each. Curiosity over came him, however, to see
who these books belonged to. A heavy wooden door
closed off the bedroom, and it was to the door that
the thief made his next move.
Slowly he eased the door open, praying to whatever
Gods would listen to a thief that it wouldn't creak.
A huge four post bed appeared between the crack
of the door, on it a mountain of pillows and blankets
that seemed to be hastily thrown aside, and a glowing
hearth in the corner, only the coals still lit. Slowly he drew
a small dagger and stepped through the opening.
No one appeared to be in the room, so the thief
stepped surely over to the large dressing mirror. Gemstone
necklaces were casually strewn over the mother of pearl
overlay, and gold and silver rings were placed neatly
on glass ring holders. His eyes gleamed greedily as he
gazed over this mass of wealth.
Like magic, a leather pouch appeared in his hands,
soon stuffed full with jewelry. He smiled, and resisted
the urge to whistle as he hefted the bag in his hand,
then tied it back to his sword belt.
With the books as his next victims, the thief
turned around swiftly, only to find the sharp point
of a sword in front of his face.
"What are you doing?" A feminine voice demanded.
The thief gulped, eyes fixed on the sword. Once he
glanced up to see who was there, but the face was
hidden in shadows.
"Well, answer me!"
"Why? You'll kill me no matter what I say." He
looked up again, focusing on the dim outline of her eyes.
"Answer me first, then we'll see." She said again,
with a hint of laughter in her voice.
Still refusing to speak, he reached down and moved
part of his cape aside.
"Don't even think about any daggers, thief." She
growled.
"Never, my lady." With that he yanked off the
pouch with the stolen jewels and tossed it towards her.
Moments passed, both debating on what to do
or say next. Then finally the sword lowered from his
face, and with it, he let out a sigh of relief.
"Now you can answer my question."
"I'm a magic fairy come to grant you three wishes.
You know why I'm here, so why ask stupid questions? I'll
just be on my way now." He started to say, and edged in
the general direction of the door.
"Not likely. Who are you? I've never met a thief
so bold as to steal into the princesses bedroom. I'll
have our bard compose a song about you, about how the
servant came in and found the Princess sleeping away
while the body of a man was skewered against the wall.
I'm sure the entire court will enjoy that one." Serenity said,
and shut the door with her foot.
"Well then, if you are going to kill me, let's
have a bit of light first. So you can see the thief
who dared the impossible."
"Agreed." Serenity said, then made her way
over to the hearth. A few logs were tossed on, and
slowly light crept through the room.
The princess was fully dressed in a pair of
riding pants with a dark green tunic belted over
it. Her feet were bare, and silver hair
fell undone over her shoulders. She looked slowly
over the thief, clothed in black from his boots
to the covering across the bottom of his face.
"My true name I won't reveal, but I am called
Mamoru." He bowed with a flourish, then sat
on a low stool.
"I've never heard a name like that, Mamoru."
Serenity twirled the sword in her hand, then fell
silent in thought.
Mamoru smiled, then finished the spell he
had just cast on the Princess. 'Silly twit, didn't
even know what was going on!' Now she would think
that their incounter had just been a vivid dream,
and he would escape undetected.
Something tugged at the back of his mind,
like a forgotten warning with such memory spells,
but it was probably unimportant, and besides, if
she got slightly ill, which was usually what those
types of spells did, it was none of his concern.
Without another moment's hesitation, Mamoru
went back through the door and climbed back out
of her chambers and disappeared into the night.
He never knew he had left something behind.
Slowly Serenity came out of her stupor,
confused as to why she was sitting up, fully dressed,
in the early morning. Everything still seemed
hazy, and a sudden exhaustion washed over her.
'Surely all the riding I did today wore me out
so.' She rose, and move unsteadily to her bed,
and was asleep the instant she laid her head down.

The next day, Serenity rose late in the
morning. Outside her window, in the courtyard,
various members of court gathered, preparing for
another day of hunting. She sighed, wishing that
she could join them, but had already promised
her Mother that she would help with the weaving.
Serenity glanced down at her rumpled clothing,
sighed again, then went to sit by her mirror.
She picked up her brush and began to hum a soft
tune as she ran it through her silver hair. The
day was so lovely - not being able to be out
in it was so annoying! After a while, she set
the brush back on the marble table top, then paused.
By her perfumes there was a golden locket,
not anything like the other ones were. It was a
bit gaudy, but beautiful nonetheless. She reached
over and picked it up gingerly, examining the
golden bauble. It was ornate, with decorations
of the moon on the outside. She opened it, and
as she did a haunting melody rose from the
inside.
Serenity gasped. She had heard this before...
but it was impossible! He had died, long ago! Hadn't
he? But the locket was playing that song... and
she remembered that somewhere she had seen this trinket,
but had given it away to... to...
No. It was impossible. Endymion was dead,
he had died when the court of Earth had been over-run
by those peasant martyrs!
She closed the locket with a snap and set
it back on the marble top. Something was still fuzzy
in the back of her mind, and it made her very mad. She
was sure it had something to do with the locket, but
it stubbornly refused to clear, nor could she forget
about it!
All day Serenity couldn't think of much else,
absently weaving, and barely hearing the scolds of
the others when she botched up one piece of cloth beyond
repair.
"Serenity, honestly! Can't you keep your head
out of the clouds for one minute?"
"Fine then!" the exasperated princess threw
down the shuttle. "You don't need my help anyway! Stupid
weaving. Why should a princess do that anyway!" She snapped,
and stormed from the room, leaving behind a shocked
group of women.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! She muttered to herself
all the way up to her room, where she furiously changed
into a simple gown, then stormed towards the gardens.
The roses always had managed to calm her temper when
things were bothering the princess. It was one of the
few places where she could think without threat of
interruption. And think she did.
She thought about the last time she had seen
Endymion, and how long ago that was. He had been a year
or two older than she, roughly ten at the time, while
she had been just eight. He had gone away to visit his
aunt's lands right after Serenity's birthday, and then
she had gotten the news that the hold had been over run
by peasants. Everyone had been reported dead, her mother
had said. They had told her that the prince had been
buried; she had seen his grave!
Serenity shook her head as if to clear it of the
doubts she was having. Endymion was dead.
He had been dead for the better part of 12 years
now.
She sighed, then stood and wandered back inside
to her room, where she laid down on the couch by her
window, watching the shadows slide across the floor.
It was noon when a servant brought a tray full of food
to her room. She ate silently, wishing it was night
already so she could just give herself over to sleep.
Night came sooner than she expected, though. After
a day of lazing about and occasionally reading from one
of her books, and a quick visit from her cousin, Princess
Minako of Venus, it was dark before she knew it.
Briefly Serenity thought of going down to the dining
hall to eat with the court, but decided against it. She
was full from the heavy lunch, and could hardly keep her
eyelids open. Strange, she thought, as she had hardly
done anything exhausting that day, but exhausted she
was. Absently she wandered over to the dresser and picked
up the suspicious locket, then sat back down upon the couch.
For comfort and memories sake Serenity pried the
golden trinket open, and fell asleep listening to the
haunting melody.
It wasn't until well after midnight that Mamoru
crept up the wall again, and into the Princess' bedroom,
in search of his prized locket, only to find it clutched
tight over her heart, still playing the soft tune over
and over.