A/N: This is some of my earliest work. It's not so hot but I'm kinda stuck right now in the editing department. So I thought I'd stick it up here and see what ya'll thought and if any one had suggestions. There are actually three stories in this series. This is the prologue and doesn't have the Sanzo party in it quite yet. Read, review and let me know how I can improve this. I'll probably put up the other two eventually...

Prologue

Life in the Heavens was a complete bore. After living on the Lower World for most of her life she'd thought that life here would be like living in Paradise which, if one wanted to be technical, was what the Heavens were. She sat sprawled in one the tallest of the monstrous cherry trees in one of the innumerable gardens surrounding the Palaces mildly contemplating her situation. Looking out over the garden she began to relax, easing the tension that had been building in her shoulders and neck over the last several hours. The Merciful Goddess wasn't going to be happy to hear about how her little human changeling had skipped tai chi lessons today, or how she'd insulted the etiquette teacher by correcting him when the stupid man had made the most idiotic comment, or how she had refused to follow the steps of an ancient ritual dance in honor of the "mighty" Jade Emperor because she found them utterly inane. He wasn't her emperor or even her god; she was from a separate world and a wholly different time. Why should she make her self look like a buffoon for him? Plus, there was an entire list of things she wasn't doing right or had refused to do, period, in this wretched place. She found these lessons tedious and irrelevant when held against her true purpose here.

She'd been training for what nearly amounted to three years in her own time but here was a little less than one. Training is a relative term when considering what exactly she'd been doing. From martial arts and mastery of the twin swords she'd been given to dance and history, it was like they were trying to strip her of her former life and personality and remold her into what they believed she should be. She leaned her head back against the smooth bark of the tree, closing her light brown eyes against the glare of the afternoon sun as it filtered through branches heavy with pale pink blooms. Even now she was forced to wear a skin tight shirt made of the softest, most supple leather that covered her from just below her jaw to her hips. It had no sleeves and she had to wear these glove-like arm sheathes that came up to the middle of her upper arm and met over the back of her hand and her palm in a silver ring around her middle finger. She wore breech like pants too but they were usually covered by a split silk skirt. And of course it was all in black, except for the skirt whose color varied daily, with a matching black cloak and thigh high boots with high heels! She still didn't understand why the boots had such insane heels but TMG had made her learn to walk, run, jump, land, flip, etc. in those things until she could do it as if she wasn't wearing them at all. Like right now. Well, she thought glancing down at her shapely bare feet as they dangled over either side of the enormous branch she straddled; it wasn't like she ever wore the blasted things anyway if she could get away with it. But soon she knew would have to; she could feel time quickly running through the hourglass of Life, hastening her toward her destiny. She shrugged at that thought, her hip length blonde braid sliding off her shoulder to lie awkwardly between her arm and the trunk of the tree.

It actually wasn't her destiny per se but she'd been selected to take the unfortunate young woman's place after a situation had cut short the girl's life. Although she had never learned the specifics she did know that it had been because of a man, her lover, not saving her in time to prevent a ransom/ sacrifice. She thought she'd gotten the better end of the deal as the chit's replacement. She had been trained in all the arts including actual arts like painting and sculpting as well as martial art and was soon to be sent to alternately guide and spy on the famed Sanzo party. It was the last part of her known assignment that quickened her heart beat. Sanzo, the leader of the traveling band of four men drew her like a moth to a flame. She'd been told that any kind of involvement with him was forbidden because he was a priest and on a holy mission. She chuckled to herself a second relishing the brief thought of breaking this last rule but with a rueful shake of her head she fished out a peach from her satchel, thinking that this was one rule that even she wasn't going to break if she could help it. One never messes with a man on a mission, her mama used to say. Let it never be said that her mother wasn't a wise woman or that she had raised a fool for a daughter. Biting into the peach, unmindful of the sticky sweet juices that ran down her chin, she turned her mind to the serious topic of her part in the middle of this grand production. She knew she wasn't completely human any more and that the inky black chakra on her forehead hid the remnants of her humanity by concealing her aura but at the same time blatantly stating that she wasn't a god either. She never had been nor will ever be a demon so that category had been out of the running from the very beginning. But the pendant she wore 'round her neck allowed her to change her own appearance and her immediate surroundings as well as to increase her already phenomenal battle prowess to the point that she was equal to and even superior to many of the other gods in Paradise, even a few of the war princes. Despite and probably because of her situation she was being sent down to the Lower World with little to no aid from the Heavens, not even from TMG her self. But she would do her duty if only to be closer to the real heroes of this little fairy tale, she thought wryly.

The setting sun suddenly brushed across her face setting her eyes to translucent amber and hair to a fiery gold. Squinting, she put up a hand to block the glare of the sun from her eyes, chewing contemplatively as she watched the sky, for a blank moment caught up in its flaming majesty. She sat and watched the sun sink slowly below the distant horizon wondering faintly if one day she'd know what it would be like to live her life free of the constraints that the follies and whims of both mortal and immortal alike used to redirect her. Twilight fell softly, that wonderful time between light and dark, and she gave up such idealistic wondering as futile. Tossing the peach pit into the shadows, she slipped from her perch to the waiting world below.

With eyes the color of fresh spring lilacs, the Merciful Goddess benevolently watched the progress of her protégé as the slender girl climbed with careless grace from the impossible height of the Jade Emperor's favorite cherry tree. Landing with scarcely a sound, her bare feet disappearing in the thick carpeting of grass, Amaya had the uncanny appearance of one of the fabled dryads of Greek myth.

The Goddess leaned against the railing of the balcony outside her suite of rooms, chin resting thoughtfully in her graceful palm. A frown formed in the flawless ivory skin between the Goddess' brows as an untoward thought popped into her mind. The child had been completely human when she'd arrived. She had been an exceptionally talented and lovely human but a mortal nonetheless. Now there was talk that she was changing without the aid of magical or spiritual enhancements, becoming something that no one would have thought possible without a being of power's generosity. Many believed that Amaya was being helped by an unknown deity, one that had gifted her with the unusual pendant that always hung from the delicately braided silver chain around her neck. She had just appeared with it one day and could not, or would, not tell anyone who asked where it had come from and how she had gotten it. Infuriated with the Amaya's supposed impertinence, one particular goddess had tried to forcefully remove it from her throat but at the moment of contact had found herself hurled more than a dozen feet away by an unknown force. Angry she had turned on the poor girl but discovered that Amaya was just as bewildered and frightened as the rest of them.

Afterward she'd been told that she would have to give it up to continue her training so she had handed it meekly over. But it had reappeared around her neck every morning after it was removed from her possession. Finally the Jade Emperor, who had a secret soft spot for the witty, rebellious girl, had decreed that it would be left in her keeping as it seemed intent on staying there despite the measures taken to keep it out of her reach. The Merciful Goddess still wasn't sure if Amaya knew who her benefactor was or not but what she was sure of was the fact that the child's abilities increased daily and soon would be superior to more than a few of the residents here in the Heavens.

The Goddess sighed and stepped reluctantly away from the railing to walk sedately along the balcony, eyes focused on nothing in particular. If the others weren't constantly being assured that Amaya was going to be sent to the Lower World in the near future, there might be an attempt on her life. And she couldn't take the chance that it would succeed; that would be an unacceptable situation.

Tossing an errant strand of blue-black hair out of her face the Goddess changed her course, turning to step through the door of her suite. Closing the extravagantly carved door softly she leaned against it, sighing tiredly. A goddess should never have to do this much work just to keep one little changeling alive and out of trouble. But still in the end it was worth all the effort and time she had put into it. Amaya would go down under the mistaken impression that her job was to collect information about the Sanzo party and to guide them silently from the shadows and give aid if they should need it, which is an entirely unlikely possibility considering what the Goddess knew of these men.

What the girl didn't know, thought the Goddess with a sly smile, was that she was bait, sent to snare Sanzo's interest and, if luck would have it, his heart. For centuries she had tried to convince her surly and anti-social nephew that a woman would be good for him, calm him down and help settle his nerves. He had acidly replied that all a woman would do would be to make him more bad-tempered and his nerves more fragile. It had ended there because he had gotten that icy look in his deep violet eyes that had warned his celestial aunt that further conversation on the topic would not be a healthy decision.

So she had dropped it, until now, that is. She had scoured the world and, once, she had found a girl she thought worthy only to find the chit was too stupid and foolish to stay alive in Sanzo's world. After that horrible failure she had turned her hand to scouring other worlds and other times. Finally she found the "perfect" one, Amaya, who now resided here at the Palaces. She had put an unbelievable amount of effort in making this one capable of functioning in her nephew's world.

The Merciful Goddess wandered further through her rooms, the soft whisper of fine silk sliding over the hard wood floor the only sound. She stepped out through an archway onto a stone path. The path surrounded a courtyard where she sat in her elaborate throne to watch the events of the Lower World unfold. She came to the throne and sat with exhausted elegance, her mind still lost in thought.

The girl had a chance to catch Sanzo's eye, with her talent and her mind, not to mention her attractive face and figure. For all Sanzo being a priest he was still a man and the impact of a pretty face and shapely body had just as much effect on him as it did on any other male though it was far more subtle. Then there was that small piece of information of complete irrelevance that the girl was the incarnation of half of Sanzo's soul. One must never underestimate the power of a soul's determination to recombine or the determination of a rebellious hellion to break as many rules, to cross as many lines, and eat as much forbidden fruit as she could. The Merciful Goddess chuckled delightedly to herself at the thought. Leaning back and relaxing in the plush cushions she turned her jaded and far too experienced eye to the Lower World.

He watched from the shadows as the petite girl walked serenely along the edge of the reflecting pool, a leather satchel hanging carelessly from one shoulder. The moonlight glinted off the unusual pendant that rested between her pert breasts, bouncing slightly with each step. Her pale hair shown with silvered brilliance and he felt an unfamiliar tenderness tighten in his chest at the picture she made. She wasn't wearing her deadly silver swords and had an air of unsullied innocence and grace. Amaya was an interesting woman, he thought suddenly to himself. Her petite stature and slenderness made her appear as a young girl in early adolescence, especially with her long golden hair always worn in a thick plait down her back. But her poise and carriage suggested someone much older and world weary. She exuded a sort of amused nonchalance, that is, until she lost her rather formidable temper. Some would say her tantrums would be adorable if she hadn't been trained to be so destructive. They spoke of her as if she were an errant pet gone amok.

But they were fools unable to see that one as physically unassuming as Amaya was the perfect weapon. Of course, her face revealed a great deal of her personality, from her stubborn chin with its tiny cleft to the high proud bones of her face and wide sensual mouth. True she was pleasing to the eye in face and form but what truly made her unusual were her eyes. They were like windows into her soul yet could be as cold and blank as an unhappy god's. Their color varied from a deep woodsy brown to translucent amber. Her eyes completed the illusion with their mixture of truth and fiction. A better combination would be a long time coming. He smiled with gentle cruelty. He grew fonder of the little changeling the more he looked upon her and the more he watched her grow into her talents.

The only thing about her that bothered him was not Amaya her self but her purpose here and on the Lower World. He had thrown his lot in with Homura's cause and knew that she was meant for the arms and company of Sanzo and his party who opposed War Prince Homura in the conflict for the Lower World. He now found himself having to choose between obsession, greed, and loyalty to a friend and ally. But as he watched her unbraid her hair with agile fingers he grew even more uncertain, the poisoned hook of obsession sinking steadily deeper. He stared, eyes unblinking, as she let the wind sift its caressing fingers through the delicate silk. A fine trembling suffused his limbs as her long fingers undid the clasps of her garments, slowly letting them fall in an untidy pile beside her abandoned satchel at her feet. But it was only when the moon shone on the opalescent purity of her damp skin as she swam out of sight that he knew he was truly doomed.

Amaya stood stiffly before the full length mirror as servants draped lengths of a variety of silks across her chest, turning toward the Merciful Goddess, who lounged lazily behind her charge on a pile of downy pillows, to approve. "Really, Amaya, it's only a little get together among friends, I don't see why you should be this upset over something so trivial," said the Goddess petulantly as the servants draped an amber gold satin over Amaya's shoulder. "Your parties are never small, Goddess, and you know it. Everyone will try to be there, if they can help it." The Goddess smiled smugly and shrugged, replying, "So I throw magnificent parties, I can't help that, but I would think that would be an asset not a hindrance for you, my dear." Amaya looked over her shoulder and opened her mouth to retort only to be interrupted by the Goddess' slyly inserted: "Don't you love that gold satin? I think it looks gorgeous on you. It really brings out your rich coloring. You'll turn heads tonight if you wear that." Amaya rolled her eyes praying for patience to any deity that she hadn't had the pleasure of consorting with in person, daily. Obviously she wasn't supposed to comment on her guardian's earlier statement. That might jeopardize the Goddess' ego and that would not be in Amaya's own self-interest. So she continued to stare at herself in the mirror, resigning herself to the competent hands of the Goddess and her servants. They bustled about, bringing in jewelry, girdles, shoes and other accessories for the Goddess' approval.

A weighty silence filled the luxurious chamber that had been given to Amaya when she had first arrived in the Heavens. Her gaze settled on the pendant that hung between her breasts. It was the color of rich red wine, warm and comforting, as if it was trying to soothe its mistress' unsettled nerves. It was always responding to her moods and sometimes it randomly reacted to her thoughts. She had just recently begun to learn how to master its many powers. She knew that if she exerted enough of her will on it, it would change becoming whatever she desired of it. It didn't matter what she asked even if her desire was something out of her imagination, the pendant would manipulate whatever to make it happen or shift to become the object. It really was quite amazing. And because she had only begun to learn the things it could do that the possibilities seemed limitless. Even now she saw that the color within the stone swirled, changing to the milky color of a moonstone.

"Amaya! Amaya! Amaya, what the hell are you doing standing there like an idiot? We have to get you dressed and soon! My guests will be here any minute! Amaya, stop staring at yourself in the mirror and WAKE UP!" Amaya jerked from her reverie as the sound of the Goddess' irritated voice abused her ears. She turned, naked save for a linen shift that was fine enough to be translucent, to face the Goddess who sat with her hands propped on her voluptuous hips, a look of indignation on her divinely beautiful face. Amaya flashed a sheepish smile at her guardian. "Sorry, Goddess, where were we?" She said sweetly. The deity huffed then stood and strolled over to give her charge a long look, turning her, this way and that, so she saw every angle in the mirror's perfect reflection. She made a small sound before calling for the amber silk. Once she held the length of material she maneuvered Amaya so that she faced away from the mirror then she belled out the shimmering cloth around the golden-haired girl so that it swirled, rich and thick, like a cloud of faery dust to settle magically in the folds intended by the crafty Goddess. Stepping back she surveyed her work critically, running an expert hand over the sleek lines of the gown, so that it lay flush against Amaya's trim body. When the girl tried to turn and glance in the mirror the Goddess tsk-ed teasingly and led her by the hand to a stool where she had her sit. Calling once again for her servants she had a tray of hair ornaments, combs, and strands of gems brought to her and held by an attending maid. Returning her attention to her charge she addressed the present state of Amaya straight blonde hair. She lifted the heavy mass then let the fine strands sift through her fingers, eyes on the vanity mirror, gauging. Having made up her mind she went to work, alternately piling up and pulling down hair, winding gems and ribbons through then discarding them. This process seemed to last forever. Soon Amaya began to wonder if the Goddess was ever going to finish but as soon as the thought crossed her mind, the satisfied deity stepped back with a sound of triumph.

Amaya sighed, relieved and asked, "Can I look at everything now?" "Certainly not!" gasped her guardian in mock horror, "A woman should never look at herself fully until her toilette is completely finished and you still have jewels to put on and cosmetics to apply, silly girl. And, of course, by you I mean me." Wrinkling her nose in annoyance, Amaya huffed restlessly as the Goddess called for her collection of face and eye powders. She swiveled the stool so that she could see Amaya's face in the full brunt of the light. The Goddess was pleased she really didn't have much work to improve her pupil's natural beauty.

When she finished she stepped back, nodded decisively then called for jewels. Four maids appeared each carrying two coffers between them. Lifting the lid of the first one the Goddess withdrew a pair of earrings. After placing them in the holes in Amaya's lobes she removed an elaborate ear cuff and settled it over the shell of Amaya's right ear. Then she turned to the second chest and drew out arm cuffs which she promptly clasped around the girl's slim upper arms. But when she moved to choose a necklace she paused then turned back toward Amaya and wonderingly asked, "Do I need to choose a necklace or can you take care of that?" Amaya grinned and cheekily replied "I can definitely take care of that."

Amaya closed her eyes and concentrated as the Goddess looked on curiously. Amaya ran her mind over the form and intricacies of the necklace she wanted and after what seemed forever she opened her eyes. Grinning she turned to her guardian for her approval. The Goddess made a thoughtful face. " Not bad, not bad at all, in fact I think that has to one of the most amazing things I've ever seen" Amaya burst out laughing at the absurdity of that but thanked her friend anyway. The Goddess chuckled as she walked toward the full length mirror and beckoned Amaya over with a gesture. Suddenly anxious the usually fearless Amaya stood slowly and approached the Goddess and the mirror. Finally she stood in front of the silver glass and was shocked to see an exquisite stranger staring back at her with an awe-struck expression on her lovely face.

This strange woman wore a satin gown the fiery gold of sunset that clung to her like a second skin. It molded her high breasts so that they swelled upward. The dress swept down from her narrow waist to flare out from her hips so that the skirt flowed around her legs. Her arms and back were left bare but what was truly stunning was the collar that held the dress up. It was made of gold and copper, and it was thick and wide, covering from the base to the middle of her throat. Copper designs flowed over the band with flashing bits of topaz, citrine, and amber. At the center was the largest gem, a black opal that flashed fiery reds, oranges and gold. The dress attached to collar at a point, V-ed down in a split to reveal a slice of pert creamy breast.

It was amazing how this transformation was made complete by up swept, loose curls interwoven with strands of topaz and black opal. Amaya was dumbfounded by her appearance. So much so she didn't notice the Goddess' smug expression until she glanced behind her in the looking glass. She turned around, fists propped in her hips.

"Don't you dare look at me like that!" Amaya teasingly admonished the smirking divinity. "Can I at least say 'I told you so'?" playfully begged the Goddess as she stepped toward her charge with arms outstretched. "You are absolutely gorgeous! If I didn't know any better I'd say you were one of us." Amaya laughed out loud and threw her arms exuberantly around her guardian who returned her embrace for a moment before stepping back and cupping her lovely changeling's chin in her palm. "You've done me proud, pretty mortal. You'll knock him on his crabby ass. He won't know what hit him, the bastard." With a confused smile Amaya replied, "Thanks…I think." Chuckling, the Goddess gave her cheek one last pat before swishing away in her suddenly scarlet gown and out the door to begin greeting her steadily arriving guests.

As Amaya stood in the silent room she felt her delight begin to fade as a deep dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure she believed what her guardian had said and the mention of him had made her wary of what was to come. She was beginning to doubt the truth of her entire purpose and the sincerity of her guardian. Amaya steeled herself against her doubts, instinctively knowing that to doubt was to invite failure. If there was one thing in her life she wanted to succeed it was this, but not for what would've been acceptable reasons. No, the only reason she prayed for success in this endeavor was because it meant she, at the least, got to see him. The pounding ever-present need to see him, to know him, lived secretly inside her. She would do whatever they said; say whatever they wanted to hear to be with him, even if it meant never being close enough to touch. That was why she would go to the party that raged below her sandaled feet. It was why she would laugh, flirt and dance. He was the treasure at the center of the labyrinth. Amaya stared at her silver twin a moment before pasting a softly flirtatious smile and a witty quirk to her expression. Then with her armor firmly attached, she turned on her heel and strode from the room with purposeful strides, secure in her desires and the looming silhouette of her prize.

Amaya was beginning to regret ever even considering this fiasco, let alone agreeing to come to it at all. The noise was phenomenal, the company horrendously boring and her feet felt completely mutilated from being stepped on so many times by careless passers-by. She had been propositioned, groped and insulted by an endless line of deities, monarchs, and bureaucrats, male and female alike. In response she had had to be polite and witty in declining or ignoring their lewd offers and egotistical demands. Finally she had escaped to the relative privacy of the back garden. She picked up the soiled hem of her gown and slipped into the sheltering darkness, unaware of the fevered eyes that marked her movements. So caught up in her frustration she made a fatal mistake in not scanning her surroundings for lurkers or even hidden trysts. She strolled leisurely down the moonlit paths, a sense of equilibrium coming back to her. She really didn't have a destination in mind when she started along this way but when she ended up at the tiny cove that sheltered a miniature bay, complete with ferns, fish, and an abundance of night-blooming flowers, she was surprised to find herself drawn into the little world. Sitting on a bench that was created as part of a living tree, she relaxed in the misty comfort of solitude, still blissfully unaware.

She must have slept because she woke with a start, unsure of what had woken her. She sat up and looked about her, seeing nothing changed, yet wary. Her pendant, still a heavy collar, clung to her throat and pulsed softly, slightly over warm. She raised a hand and tested the stone, adrenaline starting to pump through her, finding the stone hot and angry. It sensed a danger she could not see or sense with her outer senses. She sat up straighter poised on the edge of the bench searching the shadows with a jaundiced eye, her hands itching for her swords. Suddenly a small movement caught her eye and she froze.
"There's no point in hiding in the shadows anymore. I know where you are." She paused for a moment, waiting for movement. There was no reaction so she continued.

"What kind of man are you? Surely you're a coward to skulk in the shadows and not face me in the open." Her voice was strong and defiant, an angry tone making it more intimidating. Still no response and she was ready to issue another challenge when from the darkness flowed a tall, androgynous form. It was a moving shadow floating toward her, a midnight drenched wraith. It halted not two ft. from her, head bowed to hide its face from the illuminating glow of the moon. She stood head held high, chin out, feet braced apart, and ready for whatever this creature was going to throw at her. She desperately wished she had her swords because her ability to wield the necklace was unpredictable at best. Not two seconds after the thought crossed her mind that she felt the weight of the twin silver swords resting in the palms of her hands. Startled she raised them so that they crossed in front of her. Just as startling as their appearance was the dark being's reaction to them. It seemed to stumble back in a very human gesture of surprised fear. A clever smile twitched her lips as she took an experimental step forward and was stopped by an elegant hand raised in surrender.

"Amaya, love, there's no need for those nasty things. I was just playing a little practical joke," drawled the thing in a smoothly cultured, and very familiar, voice. It lifted its head, balanced on a slender swanlike neck and, cocking a finely arched brow, smiled charmingly at her.

"Keiko, you ass," gasped Amaya, relieved laughter tumbling out, "what the hell were you thinking? I could've killed you!" She plopped back onto the bench as Keiko gracefully approached and, tossing his hip length chestnut hair out of the way, leaned against the trunk beside her so he could look down into her upturned face. He smiled slyly in the dark, a malevolent twinkle in his turquoise eyes. "I just wanted to see if you were half as good as they say you are, love. You know blind belief isn't my style." He lazily purred eyes heavy-lidded as he ran a caressing look over her unique features. He watched the flit of emotions in her eyes how the colors swirled darkly in the muted light. Ever since the night he had watched her swim in the reflection pools he had wanted to do this; To get her alone, away from the attention and interference of the others, especially the newly turned mother hen, the Merciful Goddess. He had played the cynical, jaded libertine who was an outcast and considered completely harmless, his only interest in his next game of cards and/or his newest female conquest. Now she was comfortable with him and had allowed him to gain the privilege that supposed security gave her.

She was laughing up at him, the wind teasing loose strands of gossamer hair. Without realizing what he was doing he reached out a hand and gently captured a piece, wrapping and unwrapping it around his finger. He found him self battling his desire for her body, momentarily forgetting his lust for her power.

"…Keiko have you been listening to a word I've said?" came the wry query.

"Of course, dear, but I find that there are so many better things to do in a moonlit garden than talk, don't you agree?" He watched her reaction from under his eyelashes, gauging his progress.

"I'm not as naïve as you seem to think I am, Keiko. Plus even if I was so inclined you know damned well that I couldn't." Her voice had hardened slightly and her eyes had shuttered. He realized his blunder immediately yet for the life of him he didn't know why he felt compelled to continue on this foolish topic.

"A little kiss here and little touch there won't damage your precious cause, Amaya…plus you'll need to be experienced enough to aid you darling priest." He murmured snidely, sliding down to trap her on the bench as she started to rise.

"Let me up, Keiko, now." Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass and harder than the finest diamond. She was stiff and unyielding in his arms but the feel of her softness, the suppleness of her young body pressed against his, sent his desire to blazing hotter, until it was out of control. He murmured her name as he began to lower his mouth to her's only to feel a smack of incredible power an inch from his destination. Rearing back he stared at her a moment uncomprehending.

"Let. Me. Go." She ground out softly, eyes flashing furiously. But now his desire wasn't just for her body but her power. He could no more turn from her than he could from death. He shifted closer but she took the small opening to send a well placed elbow to his diaphragm. Grunting in pain and surprise, his hold loosened enough that she was able to tear free. But she turned back to give him a dressing-down never considering he would continue his pursuit. He moved almost too fast for her to see. Grabbing her around the waist he threw her up against the tree slamming his own body into hers with painful force. She struggled for breath only to find his mouth there preventing her from taking it. She gagged as he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, plunging it rhythmically. She fought feebly, fear and fury pumping through her veins. Suddenly he reared back and she saw his eyes. Dilated to the point where there was no visible iris, an evil light filled the empty black holes of his pupils. As he tried to lower his mouth to hers again she turned her head. He slid his lips and tongue down her throat then abruptly lifted her so that her feet dangled off the ground. She tried to kick them up but found his thigh wedged between them preventing an upward motion. He left a damp trail over the satin covering her chest until he came to her nipple. She struggled violently, bucking and tossing her body from side to side but nothing happened. His harsh breathing filled her mind clouding out rational thought. The only thing that remained was the furious hate and rampant fear of a trapped animal. But something else was building inside her, something unimaginably strong; something so powerful that it made the gods powers seem like parlor tricks. It grew fueled by her rage and her helplessness until it filled her.

His hand had begun the ascent up her thigh, running his nails over her tender skin, leaving bloody strips in their wake. He felt her trembling and gloried in it. Her power had grown and he drank it up becoming increasingly intoxicated by the heady brew. But he was not aware of that other power, a power he did not feel, a power he could not understand or return. It was too late by the time he realized his mistake.

She could not breathe, couldn't get the breath to scream to fight. But still she felt herself filling up with something even as the edges of her vision grayed. And as her mind began to shut down that amazing unknown energy exploded outward in a glorious burst of light.

Keiko was thrown back into the trunk of a large tree where he lay dazed for a moment. Amaya crumpled to her knees, gasping for breath, eyes dazzled. She could feel the energy sizzling around her body waiting excitedly within reach of hand or mind. She sat back on her heels slowly, shaking her head to clear any remaining cobwebs. She had forgotten about her assailant until she heard the rustling of his movements a few feet away. At the sound an uncontrollable fury suffused her and before she even realized what she was doing she had jacked Keiko's much larger, limp body up against the tree that had cushioned his fall. Snarling animalistic-ly she tossed him with all her strength as far across the glade as she could. The satisfying crack of his body against the trunk of a tree twenty feet off was like music to her ears. He took longer this time but he began to rise unsteadily. Fury filled her again at his insolence, and again she was there in the blink of an eye. Deciding that a tree was too soft she hurled against the solid rock of the cove walls. The sound of bones cracking told her of impact but this time she didn't wait for him to rise before she was upon him. She lifted him slowly holding him high so she could stare into his glazed, pain filled eyes.

"This will teach you to force a woman, Keiko. I hope you learn because there will be no second chance if it happens again be it to me or to any other woman." She whispered in voice that sounded like a thousand voices.

"AMAYA!!!" came a fear stricken cry from the direction of the walkways. Still holding Keiko above her she turned her head and saw a dozen or more celestial faces staring with horror at the scene before them.

"Amaya, what did you do to Keiko? What the hell happened?" asked the Merciful Goddess in a terrified voice as she ran to her charge's side. It was as she stood there that she finally got a good look at Amaya's eyes. A pure and unsullied gold, like the sun at dusk, they glowed with an intense fire, full of life and a terrible, dangerous power. The largest stone in the gold collar glowed the same pure golden color as her eyes. The Goddess finally realized what exactly teaching this girl the things she had truly meant. She had been proud and selfish and now she was ashamed for she would cause this young woman's death.

"Amaya put Keiko down, please," the Goddess spoke softly. She reached out a hand and placed it over her charge's on Keiko's throat

"I'm not stupid or insane, Goddess," replied the gold eyed warrior in a dry voice that still retained the echo of a thousand others. Amaya dropped Keiko like a sack of potatoes and stepped away turning her back on the crowd to face the still serenity of the pool. The other deities rushed to Keiko's aid and bore him away into the night their voices raised in outrage and concern.

The Goddess watched her pupil for a long moment, weighed down by sadness and regret. Finally she silently walked to Amaya's side.

"It's time to go, my child," said the Goddess with a catch in her voice. She offered Amaya her hand but felt a stab of sudden inexplicable pain as the daughter of her heart walked past her proffered hand to fade into the night leaving the moon drenched glade as if she had never been.

The imperial court was lavish and filled to its capacity with richly garbed deities. A steady hum filled the room as people murmured bits and pieces of the story back and forth. Everyone wanted to see the changeling mortal that had gone rabid and turned on an immortal, nearly killing him before her guardian had managed to pull her off. There were dueling opinions on what really happened that night. A large number of the female population were inclined to believe that the mortal woman had serious provocation to react in the manner she had due to the "victim's" previous attempts upon others of her sex. Although they felt sympathetic toward her the fact that a mortal hand nearly snuffed out an immortal life was innately terrifying to anyone whose entire existence had revolved around the improbability of death, and was met with incredible censor and mindless hysterics from all sides. The male residents of the Heavens were in an uproar. Even though Keiko had maintained a steady existence on the outskirts of the proper circles he had not been well liked and only tolerated because of his uncanny ability to persuade anyone to his way of thinking with little effort and time. Now all were present to witness what they hoped would prove an entertainingly historic event.

The first sign the crowd had that the proceedings were about to start was the rhythmic rattle of chains coming steadily closer to the court. Silence fell like a blanket over them as they turned in unison to see the mortal anomaly striding, head held high through the doors, wreathed in gleaming manacles on her wrists, ankles and around her elegant neck. The pendant still hung like heavy drop of crimson blood between her breasts. She wore her everyday clothes, the warrior's black body suit, a split silk skirt in a red so dark as to seem black and her high boots. Even with the harsh weight of her restraints she moved with an easy, fluid grace. The only difference was that her mane of fair hair tumbled like a straight shower of purest golden light to below her hips. No one could take their eyes from her, awed by her strange beauty and the defiant tilt of her chin as she walked to what would surely be her doom.

The Jade Emperor leaned regally back in his ornate throne. He, too, watched the approach of his prisoner but he was not swamped with feelings of awe at her appearance or amazement at her insolence. His black eyes traced the bones of her face and the smooth lines of her figure with regret. Regret and a nostalgic sorrow burned like acid in the pit of his belly. But his face appeared as emotionless as granite, never revealing the rolling sickness within.

Amaya approached the dais where the Emperor sat in state upon his throne. Her jailers stopped at the base of the platform and the morbid music of jingling chains fell silent.

"Kneel before the Jade Emperor, murdering mortal!" Snarled the crater faced man on her left. When she refused to comply with his cruel treatment he moved as if to strike her.

"Lay one hand on that woman and you will regret it for the rest of your miserable life, however long I decide it shall be," drawled the Emperor in a softly dangerous voice. The man backed away, fear and hatred barely concealed in his expression and left his charge still standing disrespectfully proud before the ruler of the Heavens.

"Your Majesty, may I speak?" Amaya spoke without hesitation in a strong, steady voice. Her eyes were not lowered in deference to his superiority but gazing intently into his own. His respect for the young woman before him increased ten fold.

"You may, Amaya," replied the Jade Emperor his voice continuing to remain neutral despite his personal feelings.

"Your Majesty, I am not defending my actions to you or to this court; especially not to this court. It is for you to decide what truly happened that night in the gardens. I can not influence your decision. It might have been made the moment you heard of the incident or you might still be deliberating. It doesn't matter one way or the other. Nothing I can say, or do, will make much of a difference at this point. I am a mortal who deigned to defend my right to life against an immortal. In that struggle I managed to inflict more serious harm on him than he had on me. I beat him, not with my hands, but with my fury, my rage. I am not ashamed of my actions nor do I, in any way, regret them. If I could I wouldn't have stopped but continued until he breathed his last foul breath. No man will ever touch me like that, without my permission, and live to do it again. This I vow on my immortal soul. I have power and strength all my own, I don't need the fake generosity of the Immortals. You may judge my actions, my reactions, and my character but only I have the right to judge my heart. The decision you make today, here in this room, will not change who I am nor do I care what you think. This decision has no impact on my life, even if you choose to take it from me. I will persist through time eternal. My soul will endure and not even you Jade Emperor of the Heavens can make it any different."

The court room was so quiet that if a pin dropped two hundred miles away it would have sounded like a sonic boom to the occupants. Amaya stood straight and tall, legs braced, hands at her side. She was magnificent, thought the Emperor. If only she had been born a thousand years or so sooner and he would've considered taking her to wife. But events had occurred now that made any possibility of that nonexistent. He rested his chin thoughtfully on his hand mulling over her words before he finally spoke.

"It is as you say, my dear. I may be an emperor but it is not my place to pass judgment on one whose intentions were pure and justified. Ordinarily I would release you with only the minimum penalty and let you return to your life without contest. But the fact remains that you are, despite your unusual gifts, a mortal. Not only a mortal, a mortal who had threatened the existence of one of the immortals without regret. This can not go unpunished, child. Although I personally agree and endorse your actions I must think in terms of what is best for my people. I'm sorry, but I must pass my judgment." He stood then with an aching slowness to face the crowd, his eyes sad and weary at what he must do.

"Amaya, foster daughter of the Merciful Goddess, I hereby banish you from the Heavens under penalty of death at your return. You have three days to make the transition to the Lower World before a warrant is sent out for your immediate arrest and subsequent execution."

His voice rang through the great hall with a stunning finality. Amaya felt the echo of it pound in her skull. For all her proud defiance she trembled inside. Her knees felt wobbly and she had to struggle to control her breathing. She almost didn't answer the Emperor when he asked if she understood.

Jerking her eyes to his she inclined her head in acknowledgement. She wondered blankly if he had noticed her preoccupation.

"Very well, then, you are dismissed, Amaya, foster daughter of the Merciful Goddess," returned the Jade Emperor, his regret now visible in his expression. He nodded at her jailers but as they tried to urge her toward the doors she suddenly refused to move, half turned away from the royal dais. "My Lord, when first we met do you remember what I said to you?" she queried quizzically. The Jade Emperor raised regally arched brows in surprise. "Yes, Amaya, I do. You said that you would kneel to no one, woman or man, mortal or immortal, under your own power. Why do you ask, child?" replied the supreme ruler of the Heavens in a gently inquiring tone. He watched her expression. She had revealed nothing until this moment. Now a frown had formed between her brows and her sensual mouth had tightened into a line bracketed by white creases of stress. She looked far more world weary that one of her years had a right to. Finally after a minute she raised her earnest dark eyes to his, holding his gaze for a long breath before answering. "I ask because before I forgot to mention one tiny detail," she said. "I forgot to say that if I was ever to kneel before a man," she sank to one knee, bowing her noble head, "He would have to earn it first, as you have."

The Emperor stared for a moment as a collective gasp rippled through their audience. Amaya knelt as gracefully as a captive warrior queen with her empty scabbards, wildly tumbling river of hair, and gleaming metallic bonds. He knew in this moment he would never forget this astonishing woman and what she had taught him. A murmur arose as the Emperor began to descend the stairs from the dais. She did not even raise her chin until he bent and tilted her face up to his. "Amaya," he said quietly, "I may be the Jade Emperor but I would never ask an equal to lie prostrate before me. I never wish to see you kneel before another again, man or woman. Please stand, Amaya, Queen of the Heavenly Winds." He proffered his hand palm up and, hesitatingly, she took it. Placing his other hand over her's they rose in unison. And as she walked from the Imperial great hall draped in chains and the approval of the Heavens, a thousand eyes followed her progress and a thousand hearts envied and adored the exiled Amaya, foster daughter of the Merciful Goddess, convicted felon, and newly crowned Queen of the Heavenly Winds.

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