As the brightness of the sun revealed itself, he adjusted his anti-fog, polarized goggles over the spandex material covering his eyes. He was watching as his other four Elite Snevains prepared for the tournament with warm-ups and stretches. Their summit grey full-body spandex suits concealed their identities, but he was well aware who each Elite was. There were two men and two women, all of who he believed to be worthy as contenders of his territory. In their territory, the summit grey color would camouflage them to their surroundings. It would give them the upper-hand when they would begin the stage in their own territory. Covering the spandex suit was an armor pressure suit, similar to what snowboarders wore for maximum upper body protection in case of a potential impact. Waterproof, tough-grip leather gloves with insulated fleece adored his hands and breathable acronos and leather boots equipped with grip guard soles and thermoplastic shin guards adorned his feet. This apparel was the standard for all contestants, only in their respective territory colors.

It was unusually windy and the cold from being at a high altitude on the cumulonimbus cloud would make today's stage pretty difficult, even for the Clairds themselves. As a Snevain, he was accustomed to the cold, wind, and high altitude – from having lived in the mountains his whole life – and this would benefit him greatly for the games. Today's stage would have him utilizing temporary wings - something he was not acclimated with – along with every other non-Claird, granted by the Claird Elders. The ability of acclimating to the high altitude would be bestowed upon the contestants as well. The other territories would not be able to participate in the Clairds' stage otherwise. There were few non-Clairds who had the ability to levitate, let alone 'fly,' without wings or control their breathing rate in such a short time before the games. Some were powerful enough to manifest wings for themselves, but powers were not to be used during the tournament. Any use of powers during the tournament would result in immediate disqualification. The tournament was used for measuring an Elite's endurance, agility, dexterity, strength, and speed – not their power levels.

"Heads up," he announced to the others, with a nod in the direction he was observing. His Elites turned their heads. The other territories started to appear and were making their way towards them. He could tell by the colors, which territory was leading the arrival. The sky blue color revealed the Clairds. There were four females and one male. Unlike the standard boots most contestants wore, the female Clairds had on stilettos with matching encased buckles to that of their male counterpart's. He could hear mumbled howls from his Elite men and smirks from his Elite ladies, no doubt because of the female Clairds choice of shoes.

The next group of territories wore a forest-green color, the Forgles. There were two females and three males in their group. A tan color came after them, the Dreseats. They had three females and two males. Aqua was the color for the Maquaids and there were four females and one male. The last territory, the Graillds, had light green for their color and composed of one female and four males.

Each group assessed their competition. Without knowing each other's identities or the ability to read their power levels, not much analyzing could be done. The only measure of study available on each contestant was based upon warm-up exercises of how limber, flexible, and balanced they were. There was also the perceptive implications of the body: language, type, and shape. Much could be left to the imagination in regards of aesthetic purposes.

An unseen smug smile formed on his hard chiseled face. Despite the multitude of males present, he still received lingering glances from each female, even though his physical features were hidden from view. An invisible pull was gaining his attention. He pinpointed the lure to the Grailld's sole female. She was glancing in his direction and even though he couldn't know for sure if she was physically looking at him, he could feel that she was. Without the use of powers, he knew it must be an internal attribution on the female's part. He tried to dismiss it as mere infatuation, however the tug was vigorous and unyielding. He would need to keep an eye on her and investigate later.

A camera crew was setting up to record and broadcast the tournament throughout the territories. Some spectators were present, although most were near ground-level waiting for the broadcast to begin on the big-screen in front of them.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the fifth annual Ultimate Masters Tournament!" was loudly heard on the broadcasting speaker. It was addressing the spectators.

"Listen up, Elites!" an Elder from the Kalyke moon had started, drawing in everyone's attention. He was a plump fellow in a maroon robe with salt and pepper colored hair. "We are about to commence the games. We just need to go over the race course, reiterate the rules, and if there are any questions..." Jumping and stretching was continued as the Elder carried on in his speech. The Elites were getting excited and their adrenaline started to kick in. "...remember to maneuver through obstacles smoothly and avoid collision, all while maintaining your speed. Clock starts when you cross the starting line and ends when you reach the last marker. Any questions?"

Without any questions, the race was to begin. All twenty-five Elites lined up at the starting line. They waited for the sound of the pistol. Once heard, all the Elites took off in flight.

Some, mainly the Maquaids, had a difficult time adjusting to the wings. Their takeoff was rough and had a few ups and downs before they could finally control the aerodynamics of it all. The first obstacle was to fly through a set of hoops that gradually decreased in size. One Maquaid hit the last hoop and fell in the clouds. He quickly started flight again and tried his best to catch up with the rest.

The Selases of each moon were refereeing and regulating the races. One Forgle was caught using his powers, although an insignificant amount, still against the rules. He was whistled out of the race and disqualified. The Elders were sensitive to power and could feel when a power was used. A female Snevain went the wrong way around a barrel and was penalized 5 points for doing so. A male Dreseat decided to avoid an obstacle entirely to pass three contestants when he thought a Selas wasn't paying attention. Another Selas was and deducted 10 points from him.

Two Clairds were in the lead, followed by the suave Snevain, then the male Claird, and then the female Grailld. The Snevain was rather enjoying the futile attempts of the Claird behind him, more-so amused with his frustrations. The Claird tried his best, to no avail, at slamming into the Snevain and trying to collide him into obstacles any chance the Claird could get. One Selas was watching the aforementioned Claird closely for any violations of the rules. He was not impressed with the Clairds tactics and waited patiently for the Claird to try again.

At a steady pace, the Grailld female stayed behind, and quietly observed the Snevain in front of her. She could have passed him and the Claird easily, especially with how much attention they were focusing on each other instead of the race itself. She assumed the Snevain was capable of evading the Claird and his tactics and was unsure as to why he continued to torment the poor boy. There was definitely something enticing about the Snevain. He was an intriguing temptation and she couldn't ascertain the emotions he emanated from her.

Rival Claird to the Snevain noticed the final markers coming into view and knew he wouldn't have many more opportunities to take his opponent out. As they were nearing the tunnels, he opted to go down one instead of going up it. The Snevain was slightly stunned when he realized the Claird was no longer beside him. He briefly glanced back to see if the Claird was following him, only to behold the mystifying Grailld herself. He sensed her sudden concern and turned around to see what the cause was for her unease. Coming straight at him was the Claird. The Snevain was riled by the Claird now as he was not only putting the two of them in a crisis, but also the uninvolved Grailld. The provoked Snevain was no longer amused and went full force, straight at the Claird. Terror filled the Claird as he realized the Snevain was charging him like a kamikaze. He tried in vain to halt his descent, but it was no longer a concern – the Snevain was able to snatch the Claird and bring him up and out of the tunnel. The Snevain would have threw him as well, had it not been for the tournament they were in.

As soon as they were out of the tunnel, whistles were being blown in all directions. A Selas quickly grabbed the Claird and motioned to the others to continue. The Claird was injured on the arm the Snevain grabbed him with. He was disqualified for breaking the rules of deliberately disobeying direction with malicious intent. The Snevain only shook his head at the boy, but was thankful no harm was done and the Grailld gave him an unnoticed sympathetic look. Now the Snevain could use his full capabilities to catch up with the leaders. Not far behind, the Grailld followed.

The two female Clairds in the lead moved with finesse and ease, while maintaining a dignified poise. Their ethereal wings tucked in gently as they gracefully dipped in and out of the tunnels and under bars. The spectators cheered as they were nearing the last markers. Whistles began to blow and that slowed the Clairds down as they looked back for an explanation. Ignoring their fellow Claird being escorted out of the race, the two leaders could only focus on the two Elites right behind them. As if on fire, the two leaders took off like fireworks.

It was a female Claird who took first place with a tie between the second female Claird and the Snevain, followed by the Grailld. The local spectators roared in cheer to have their own win the race. The Snevain was well aware how close the Grailld stayed behind him. He believed she was holding back.

"Good race," the Claird who won proclaimed. The others nodded in agreement. She knew it was a close call and considered herself lucky for winning.

The Snevain immediately knew the Claird's identity simply by her voice. He had his suspicions, but without his powers, he didn't know for sure. The two of them have trained together since childhood. He had no doubt that she knew his identity as well. It was an unspoken rule not to have verbal communications for the obvious reason. He parted from her with a nod and turned to the Grailld for some kind of understanding. She had started walking away and so he decided to turn and walk towards the Elders. He couldn't wait to either have his powers 'restored' so he could remove the wings himself or to have the Elders do it.

As the last Grailld reached the last marker, they all embraced for completing the first stage. With the female out-doing the males, she was scooped up and paraded around. A giggle escaped her lips. Luckily no one other than her fellow Graillds were around to hear its sweet-sounding melody.

After his wings disappeared, the Snevain turned just as the alluring Grailld was being ever-so-slowly brought down from her male companion's loving arms. He could feel his insides burning with rage and his heart rate dangerously elevated. He clinched his fists and turned away. Who would have imagined that he of all people could experience jealousy, especially concerning a woman. One who's identity had yet to be revealed to him, no less! What if she were a hideous beast? Somehow he doubted that one. He needed to get out of here, away from these bewildering emotions of unknown origin. He needed a drink. A strong one.

His fellow female Snevain watched the whole scene unfold before her. She had just congratulated him on his tie of second place. He thanked her with a curtsy, undoubtedly for a humorous effect. The Snevain Elites were discussing plans for tonight's celebratory festivities. They would start off at the local tavern and then head over to the nearby park for the Celestial Stargazing Event. He had just turned to leave when he stopped to look at the Graillds. She was unsure of her feelings towards him, but was saddened by the realization he could care for someone else.

xx

xx

The tavern was overcrowded. Spectators, family, friends, and even the dressed-down, unidentifiable Elites were mingling about, drinking in celebration, and enjoying the company of all those around.

He was replaying the earlier scene in his head for the umpteenth time. He knew it was ridiculous to be angered by the man who was gently caressing the female Grailld's arm, but he couldn't help but be jealous. With frustration, he ran his hands through his onyx colored-hair, as if it would rid his mind of her.

"Whoa, might want to take it easy on the hard stuff," suggested a shaggy blonde-haired man with arctic blue eyes, as he took a seat next to him.

"'Liquor before beer, you're in the clear.'," replied the man with the disheveled hair and piercing sapphire eyes. He didn't bother to look in his direction.

"Damn right! Cheers!" He said as he tipped his shot of tequila to the attractive bartender before he chugged it down.

"Unlike you, I am fully capable of holding my liquor, Jadeite." He still hadn't looked in the man's direction.

Jadeite could only smirk as he recalled a time when his strapping young friend here out drank all the men in their training brigade. "I can understand your frustration, Endymion. She is gorgeous." Jadeite retaliated smoothly, pretending as if he simply stated how nice the weather was.

With that, Endymion whipped his head to him. "You know who she is? You've seen her?" he practically demanded with his fierce sapphires. He couldn't care less how Jadeite knew what was bothering him. Endymion knew Jadeite didn't have his ability of telepathy. Besides, he would have noticed the probing of his mind and either activated a psychic shield to close his mind off to Jadeite or used an illusion to manipulate what Jadeite would perceive.

"Yes, and yes," Jadeite replied nonchalantly, without any hints and hoping to annoy his personally-dubbed liege. Jadeite knew of Endymion's immense powers, even at a young age, and vowed to stand beside him – in addition to his life mission of protecting the people of Eariter – if ever the need called for it.

Endymion lowered his eyebrows and opened his mouth to say something, but without a thought, he could only grit his pearly white teeth at the button-pushing blonde. He knew Jadeite wasn't permitted to reveal an Elite's identity during the tournament. He would just have to wait. 'Only six more days...,' he mentally noted with disappointment.

Jadeite could tell Endymion was remarkably irritated and couldn't help but find some amusement in the Elite's sulky dissatisfaction.

"Tough day? What's with the long face, Endymion? Still angry with that Claird?" asked a tall, athletic-built man with long wavy auburn hair and Persian blue eyes. As he approached, he simultaneously gave a pat on each man's back. "You seem tense, Endymion," he quickly observed.

Endymion recalled the Claird's actions in the tunnel and immediately thought of the Grailld again. 'Why can't I get off the subject already?' he pondered. "That Claird is a pusillanimous ignoramus who deserves a vicious crusade through a monstrous hellscape-"

"Hold your tongue, you foul-mouthed thief, you!" Jadeite interrupted him in a roar of laughter. "You sound as if you were reading Zoicite's thoughts verbatim!" He intended to make a pun of Endymion's abilities.

The man could not contain his hysterics and was bent over, holding his stomach from the pain of laughter. 'It wasn't even that funny... must be the liquor kicking in...' Endymion reasoned.

"Yeah, tell us how you really feel!" the auburn-haired newcomer added with a chuckle.

Endymion rolled his eyes and went back to observing the people gathering at the park for the stargazing event being held in an hour. They were overlooking the large open park from the outside bar. "Jadeite, Nephrite, what do the two of you want? Leave me in peace." Endymion insisted.

Jadeite and Nephrite knew Endymion was reserved like the rest of them. It would be difficult to get him to open up, even to them – who were considered his most loyal confidants. They knew he was experiencing inner turmoil, undeniably a result of the Grailld – no woman has ever caused him such irrational behavior. Endymion has always been one who could readily dismiss love. No woman has ever been able to tie-down the powerful Elite. Many have tried, but it was as if he were waiting for the perfect challenger. She was unnerving him, that they knew.

"Just checking on you. We were at the tournament. We saw what was going on, " Nephrite was alluding to the Claird and the Grailld.

"Not to get all ooey-gooey, but we are here if you want to let it all out. You know, if you need a shoulder to cry on..." Jadeite batted his eyelashes to Endymion and pulled his blazer down his arm to reveal his shirt-clad shoulder.

Endymion wore an incredulous look on his godly-sculpted face. Then he gave an amused smirk, followed by a deep sigh. "Have you ever experienced chaos in the mind? Been exposed to internal conflict of the unsure? Had a struggle within your soul?" He ran his hands through his hair again and then over his face in frustration. Endymion heard his words and realized how crazy he sounded. "I could pass as a lunatic." He shook his head, sending his unruly hair into his eyes. "Listen, thanks, Jed, Neph, but I just need to clear my head. I'll see you tomorrow." He stood up – his height slightly towering Jadeite's and equaling Nephrite's – and walked down the stairs to the direction of the park.

"Holy shit, he does sound like a lunatic!" Jadeite affirmed with wide eyes.

Nephrite punched him in the arm and Jadeite feigned pain with an "Oww!" and rubbing of his sore spot. "Kunzite was right about the woman – she will be the death of Endymion." Nephrite was sure of it.

xx

xx

An hour had passed and Endymion found himself walking to his group of undiscovered Elites. They were busy laughing, engrossed by whatever they were seeing in the night sky. Then he suddenly felt it again – the pull of her. However, it vanished as quickly as it appeared. It had momentarily brought him to a standstill, startling him more than anything. He somehow didn't imagine to see – or feel – her here. He continued walking, casually scanning the area, for what, he was unsure. 'Maybe a neon arrow sign will point to her to make it easy for you. Idiot.' He mentally scolded himself. 'I really am losing it...'

xx

xx

She was laying on the puffy quilt, her long, silvery-pearl hair pooling beneath her. Some of her close friends and a few Elites accompanied her. They were admiring the giant screen projector that had the aptitude of a telescope. The stars were visibly bright and vivid with their luminosity igniting the night sky.

That pull she shared with him was triggered again. She felt her heart leap from her chest. 'He must be close by...' she thought. 'It must be enhanced when we are in the vicinity of one another.' With apprehension – or excitement – she hastily used her powers to enshroud their impenetrable bond. She went still, unable to move. Either she was terrified to see him or she was physically incapable of moving, she wasn't sure. Her normally angelic moon-kissed features were now paled with an expression of uncertainty.

A pixie-cut, oxford blue-haired woman laying beside her noticed her uneasiness. "Serenity, is everything alright?" she asked with mirrored concern and worry.

Serenity tensed again. She had hoped no one would notice her unease. "Ami, yes, of course." Serenity acknowledged with sincerity, giving her an appreciative smile.

"Okay. But, if you need anything...well, I'm here for you." Ami genuinely assured with a returned smile.

"Thank you," she expressed, her cornflower blue eyes helped wash away Ami's concern. That was part of Serenity's charm. She could push emotions, thoughts, and memories onto others. She hated to do it with her close friend, but she didn't want Ami concerned for her. Serenity wanted to deal with whatever this was, alone.

xx

xx

"Endymion, come join us!" The rosewood red-headed female Snevain urged. "We missed you earlier!" She was a little tipsy and was getting all lovey-dovey with him. This was a well-known routine with him. Women swooned over him anywhere he went. Endymion was going to try to enjoy the night and do his best to forget about her…for now.