Unwrapping the painting of legendary Venusia, the doomed Goddess of Earth's sister, Minako faced up to her long-delayed motivation ever since returning from England to Japan weeks ago. While she was vacationing in the rural countryside, an acquaintance painter had requested for her to model for the painting, marvelling how she was the exact and perfect fit for the deity character and that her ill-fated story has been passed down through the generations. He told her how she had appeared in one vivid dream of his just days before a chance meeting with Minako in person...Minako was thrilled to learn of her connection with such a character, yet her heart ached as she listened to his narration of her fallen destiny.
And so she spent from noon till evening sitting still and extremely composed before him while the pleasant-natured artist unleashed his well-kept world of imaginations into a brilliant piece of visual masterpiece. During those hours, Minako's heart raced and slowed intermittently and unpredictably, having been captured by thoughtful and emotional anticipation of the outcome of his skillful creativity. She consciously controlled her breathing and reflexes, up to the point of being noticeably inhibitory that her kind painter softly reminded her to keep relaxed and natural. She had gently nodded a number of times, careful not to speak a word, but still struggled to ease her mind and muscles...
As she cautiously tore off the thick wrapping from the front of the gold-framed painting to reveal the long-expected content laid by a chest of drawers, Minako squinted her eyes with those lovely arched brows furrowing deeply. In an effort to come to terms with her perceptual senses, then feeling with her unsteadily moving fingers the tactile reality of the artistic product, Minako gasped hard beyond unbelief. She was wary of accepting the concrete visual display before her but as seconds ran by, she felt that grace has descended on the twist of time...
It was not actually a painting of the unfortunate Venusia which the man had given her, or so Minako had thought in the first place...Instead, standing tall and resolute against the backdrop of a floating Magellan castle was the princely charm of a mysterious man with his back facing the painting viewer, his captivating and shimmers of golden blond hair being blown like tender soft feathers by the planet's high-velocity winds...Minako drew her fingers to her lips as she touched with her other palm those endearing silk-smooth strands, sending her fragile pulse quickening like breeze just like how it had felt when she was on the hills in England...The flying white cap he wore over his royal Medieval attire stirred a strange sentimental arousal emerging within her heart...Who could this person be?