Ha! I updated before the year was over! I feel like…crap…but yeah anyways that don't matter. Who wants this story to continue? {…cricket…cricket…} Review and I'll see that it does. Why am I being so mean as to demand reviews? Because I can…well, you want the truth? Didn't think so. {laughs maniacally} Can I get the count up to 140 reviews? Please? It would make me very happy, but then you don't *sniff* care, probably. Do I have to send telepathic cookies?

The Insanity One Can Cause 2

Avarian stared at the young woman in consternation. She adamantly refused to don her armor and rejoin her regiment. The cat-woman had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince her that desertion was worse than fighting, especially if she was caught.

"No." Eryn crossed her arms and shook her head. There was no way in hell she was going to put on that obviously chaffing armor. She knew from personal experience that leather might look cool, but it stuck to awkward places and made the slightest exertion caused sweat to cake in even more awkward places.

"If they catch you here, they'll hang both me and my kits." The children in question crowded fearfully about their mother, clinging to her rough skirt.

"What would they do to someone impersonating an officer?" Eryn retorted. She didn't want to cause the widow and her children grief, but she also didn't want to meet the wrong end of an axe. She wondered if executions happened the same way as in the movies. She fervently hoped not.

"You are not impersonating anyone. You have military identification." The cat-woman gestured to the silver tags hanging from a chain about the young woman's neck. Eryn rolled her amber eyes and blew a straggling lock of hair out of her face.

"Look, I'm grateful for you hospitality and all that, but I'm not from around here. Hell, I'm not even from this planet."

"What are you talking about?" Avarian regarded her guest with worried green eyes. The kits continued to glance worriedly between the two women.

"I'm from Earth. You call it the Mystic Spoon…Loom…"

"Moon. You're from there? Don't be silly. Obviously you still have a touch of amnesia." Avarian sighed and glanced around her humble shack. "I suppose you can stay a little longer, but, mind you, I won't be responsible if they come looking for you. I have enough trouble with the normal humans around these parts."

* * * *

Miguel stared at the boy before him in puzzlement. The boy, Max, claimed to be his brother. For the life of him he couldn't remember ever having a brother, much less one named Max.

"The doctors said you have amnesia. That sucks." The look in his gold-green eyes stated that he didn't believe the doctors for a second. "Anyways mom hasn't remembered that you're in the hospital so I borrowed some money and flew down here. How are you?"

"Fine." Miguel didn't know what to do. Not only was he on the Mystic Moon, but people knew him or someone very like him. The very logic, or illogic, of it all left him feeling like a small insect on the back of a horse known as the cosmos.

"Yeah…so I guess you shouldn't be driving and since I just got my license." The boy began to laugh a little crazily. Miguel didn't know what driving entailed, but by the way his 'brother' laughed it couldn't be good.

* * * *

Eryn couldn't help smiling as the littlest of Avarian's children, Zave, offered her a doll made of twigs, rags and string. She thanked the little cat-girl and joined her in a game of make believe. The other two began climbing upon, their claw-like nails scratching her a bit. Normally she couldn't stand children, believing them to be evil incarnate, but these three didn't seem so bad.

"Can we play with your sword, Eryn?" the oldest, Tavars, demanded as he wrapped his arms around the scabbard of 'her' sword.

"And have your mother eviscerate me? I don't think so." She carefully stood up, letting the kit clinging to her back time to scramble off, and took the sword away. The little boy pouted cutely and stared longingly at the shelf she placed it upon.

"What does evi-sar-ate mean?" Njal demanded.

"Well, ask your m–"

A shrill cry and the angry shouts of several men prevented the young woman from finishing her sentence. A perplexed frown twisted her mouth as she strode towards the rickety door and pushed it open slightly.

"Crap." Her hostess, Avarian the cat-woman, lay in a fetal position on the ground while several scarred soldiers stood around her. She recognized their color-devoid uniforms as those of Zaibach's grunt soldiers. How she remembered she couldn't say for the life of her.

Suddenly she remembered what Avarian had told her a week ago. She began to curse quite vividly under her breath as she rushed to the wooden chest containing the armor. She still couldn't believe it was hers, but if wearing it would prevent any further harm from coming to the family she'd wear it.

"Hey, you guys help me with this stuff," she told the kids. They glanced between her and the direction of their mother's cry uncertainly. "Hurry up. I'm going to help your mother now." The three nodded obediently and helped her put on the various parts.

"Geez, this stuff is heavy. How can they move or fight in it?" She flexed her shoulders to settle the shoulder guards in place. A surprise look washed across her face as she found the whole thing to fit perfectly, even to the extra space in the chest area for certain anatomical objects that designated her as female of the species.

"What are you going to do?"

"Are you going to save mommy?"

"Give me the sword. I'll take them all on." The last was from Tavars.

"Uh no. I'll the sword and try not to get us all killed." She grabbed the said instrument and strapped it to her side. "Do I look like a soldier."

"You look like a girl," Tavars told her honestly.

"Yeah, I was shooting for that as well. Okay, here goes nothing." She gave the kids the thumbs up and thrust open the door.

The soldiers stared at her in such surprise that she could barely contain her laughter. Fortunately her years of struggling to become an actress paid off and she maintained her 'tough as nails' character in place.

"What the hell do you idiots think you're doing and to a helpless woman no less." The men's eyes traveled from her head to her toes and back, taking in the uniform and sword at her side. "Well?"

"Are you…are you Dragonslayer Eryn?" one of the men asked hesitantly. Surprise flashed across her face before she could control it. 'Dragonslayer Eryn'? They knew someone with her name? How weird was that?

"What do you think?" She hoped her noncommittal answer would keep them from asking any more questions. She had to wonder what the penalty was for impersonating a Dragonslayer.

"Then it is you. What are you doing with these…creatures?" A dark light flared within her amber eyes and she graced them with a rather sinister smile.

"These people rescued me when I was injured and I owe them my life." She bent down and helped the frightened cat-woman to her feet. The woman was trembling badly, but obeyed Eryn's veiled hint to get inside the house.

"Well, then they should be rewarded of course. Would you please accompany us back to the Vione? Your commander would most likely want your full report as soon as possible."

"I will, but if I find you've harmed my hostess and her children in any way," she informed them with a boreal sneer. "I will personally see that your reproductive capabilities are severely impaired. I will skin each one of you alive and feed your carcasses to the wild animals." She would have continued, but the men seemed to be on the verge of fainting. "Let's get going."

"Yes'm," the cowed men murmured meekly.

"Hey, if you don't give me any crap, I'll say a good word about you to the higher ups." They stared at her blankly and she heaved sigh.

* * * *

Eryn stared at the room and frowned. The escorts bade her goodbye and informed her that her commander would be by to see her in a few minutes. Now she could look about the room that was supposedly her own. She could definitely see little touches here and there that seemed like hers, but the very austerity seemed more along the lines of a…soldier.

"I'm not a soldier, dammit. I can't stand the sight of blood," she muttered out loud as she stalked across the room, tossing off parts of her armor. Finally she had stripped down to a pair of tight leather pants and a fairly loose, sleeveless blue shirt that laced up the front. At least she had a bra and that made a world of difference in her mind.

She found a large mirror at one end of the room and paused to check out her reflection. The person staring back at her definitely wasn't her, or even close.

* * * *

"Eryn?" Miguel whispered as he stared at the mirror in the bathroom his 'apartment'. The young woman staring back at him from the reflective surface could be no other. Those fiery amber eyes, longish black hair and defiant chin belonged to only one person. A hollow feeling entered his stomach and he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears.

Seven years, he had sent her back to her own world for her own safety seven years ago. Often he had wondered what kind of woman she had grown into and if she had found someone to spend her life with. Seven years and she had changed very little. He almost felt relieved to know that life hadn't put unnecessary lines upon her face or a bitter light in her eyes.

"Miguel?" her soft voice sounded strange, as if it welled up from some dark cavern. He reached forward and rammed his fingers against the glass.

"Miguel? Did the amnesia make you forget how to use the bathroom?" Max demanded from outside.

"No, hang on." He turned back and she was gone. "Dammit. Eryn."

* * * *

"No. Crap." She slammed her palm against the wall next to the mirror and cursed. Miguel hadn't been there. She'd been hallucinating or something. An uncomfortable tightness gripped her lungs and rooted deep in her stomach. She rested her forehead against the cool glass and concentrated on breathing. Seeing him had shocked her beyond anything she had experienced before and then he was gone.

A whisper of a nose behind her alerted her to the presence of another. She wiped her eyes, hopping the light wouldn't reveal the redness about her eyes, and turned.

* * * *

Ohhh, suspense. I have inspiration so, if you review, I will get the next one out by…perhaps this weekend? My goal is 140. Will you help me reach my goal? Perhaps I might even kick my cliff-hanger phase. Go Escaflowne!!