Chapter 5: Lost Souls

Miranda found her desire to corner the King circumvented as she strode down the corridor. Albert had paused up ahead, speaking to one of the castle guards. It wasn't until she came closer, just about to reach out and grab the sovereign by his arm and force him to turn and face her that the overheard conversation in process gave her pause.

"Aye, Your Majesty, Noish wishes to speak with all of you immediately. I am to find the Lady Miranda next."

"I'm right here," Miranda made her presence known with a wry twist to her voice. Albert turned far enough to find her gaze and the narrowing of her eyes spoke more than words ever could. She would corner him later, and she expected the King to give in to her eventually. Hazelnut eyes widened a touch, startled at what he read on her visage and then he turned back toward the guard abruptly.

"We shall go now, then, thank you."

The guard saluted with a fist to his breast, bowed afterwards and departed down another corridor, his mission completed now that he'd located the last two Noish wished an audience with. Albert did not dally, either, quickening his step till Miranda had to trot alongside him, unable to keep up with his long legs when he was determined to walk ahead of her and avoid conversation.

"Albert!" she hissed, finally, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop and turn toward her. Their eyes locked, hazelnut warmth of Serdio staring into the cold blue of Mille Seseau winter. Though she had him at her mercy at last, she found her newly acquired strength and fervor slipping through her fingers. He reached toward her hand, holding it briefly while her grip loosened.

"Miranda... let it go," he said quietly and pried her fingers free before turning away from her again. Defeated, she watched him continue without her before willing her feet to move, to numbly locate the others and discover why Noish summoned all of them all at once.

Noish's den was located on the second floor, a warm and cluttered space filled with books and mementos of three kings, now. Albert's time, Carlo's brief rule and before him, his father Kerrich. Papers and parchments lined a desk haphazardly, threatening to spill over the edge to tumble across the floor with a soft susuration of sound. Books with faded and broken spines filled the bookshelves, which took up the most space of all within the den. Noish himself had taken a seat toward the back, opening as much space as possible within cramped confines. Having seven people and an infant cloistered together proved to be interesting, but there was no where else he wished to meet, not when he needed to speak with them all in private.

"Ah, Your Majesty, Sister Miranda, I'm glad you're here. Please, shut the door and try to be comfortable, everyone. My apologies for the small space..."

"What is going on, Minister Noish, that asks us here rather than one of the conference chambers?" Albert inquired first, distinctly avoiding the urge to look toward Miranda, though he felt her standing close and could even smell the faint perfume that always accompanied her.

"I won't keep any of you long, Majesty, I promise," Noish began, shifting the comforter around himself for warmth. As old as he had become, lately he felt his age creeping up on him and part of him wondered if he might live to see another King after Albert. The thought disconcerted him, leaving him to gaze at the sovereign's face. With a sigh, he shook himself free of his revelries. "Mille Seseau has sent word. The Black-Burst Dragon has been spotted in the Mountain of the Divine Dragon."

Silence filled the room in the wake of Noish's words. Dart was the first to break it, stepping forward slightly to ask, "Is Deningrad in danger?"

"I don't know, this missive is several days old by now."

Miranda felt her heart catch in her throat, thick and difficult to swallow down as the world around her swooned. Deningrad had already survived the attack of one dragon and rebuilt itself to its former glory. Even the Crystal Palace had recovered, human architecture joined with ancient wingly designs to make it more eye appealing than ever. "We should leave right away," she said, "My people can't handle another dragon attack. The first stole so much..." Life, security, safety, these things had been restored finally but remained precarious if another dragon threatened them.

Noish nodded solemnly, "I had thought as much. I have already arranged for transportation with the Queen Fury. You will all be taken to Mille Seseau when you are prepared." After a pause and a look of askance from Albert, he sighed quietly and added with a rueful smile, "And I will remain legal regent of Serdio until your return, Your Majesty. I knew you would not allow your friends to go off alone without you."

"Thank you, Noish," Albert replied, returning a brighter smile to his advisor. Noish practically raised the sovereign of Serdio, replacing the father who died so violently when the boy was barely six. Their relationship often went far above a King and his Minister to father and son instead. It warmed his heart to know that the old man allowed him these dalliances.

"I understand you far better than you realize, Albert," Noish said with quiet warmth. "Now all of you, go. Your destinies are not complete yet, it seems."

Her mother confronted, the Death Rose destroyed, Miranda could not help but sink against the floor of the age old Serdian inn and weep into her hands. They left her to her own designs at that point, seeking answers elsewhere along the contours and strange happenstance that made up the surface of the Moon that Never Sets. Or rather that had at last set upon the earth, on the Divine Tree no less. Like a crybaby she sniffled into her sleeve, wiping at her tears with an angry swipe of her hand. She had grown up now, there was no reason for her to be weeping like a little child. Like the day she watched her own mother run off with another man, to have a life she couldn't have if she stayed behind to tend to a drunken husband and a small child. As a little girl, Miranda seethed with her hatred. As a grown woman, part of her understood the desire to run away from responsibility. Her hand closed reflexively around the silver-white orb that she kept dangling off a chain around her throat. Shana had asked her to look out for the others, to take her place in the group. Miranda had to live up to her word, she promised.

But how tempting it was to want to run away. To shed the Spirit for the chance to return to the planet and leave behind the frightening things that inhabited the Moon, that toyed with their minds with things like the Death Rose. Miranda was not convinced that the creature had been her mother, not even if her face and voice matched perfectly. Had she forgiven her? She wasn't sure, though the weight on her shoulders felt lessened. Even if it were nothing but an illusion, it was a confrontation she longed for. Perhaps that's why the Moon latched onto it. How strange that something she was supposed to help destroy aided her in getting a grip on her own life.

"Miranda are you in h--" Albert's voice cut off as he entered the room, pausing in the doorway as Miranda turned to glare at him. Her eyes were still red-rimmed, tears streaking her cheeks. The pair looked at one another in a weighty silence.

"Get out," Miranda demanded. Her voice broke despite herself and she could only sink back to her knees, lowering her face into her hands. To her chagrin, she heard the sound of boots on the wooden floors and then the sovereign of Serdio was beside her, down on one knee.

"Miranda, what happened to you in there? You haven't spoken a word about it to us but yet you are obviously hurt. Please, we are your friends as well as your allies." A hand came to rest against her shoulder and Miranda jerked away from him, turning her back while she rubbed at her face vigorously.

"What would you know. Have you ever lost something dear to--" she halted herself, then, recalling abruptly how Albert had lost Lavitz. Though she hardly knew the entire situation there, Queen Theresa often warned her about being so bold as to assume her losses were greater. Turning, she found him resting against one palm on the floor, sitting there and watching her with a solicitous, hazelnut gaze. "When I was a child, my mother abandoned my father and I. The Moon... it knew about it and in that place I confronted her finally."

The king frowned deeply as he listened unobtrusively. A gloved hand reached out toward her again to brush against her cheek, a comforting gesture. "Miranda, we have all experienced loss. It is our power to forgive that sets us above the evils in this world. Did you forgive her?"

"Yes," she replied softly, strangely quieted by his logic. "Who... who do you think the Moon will ask you to confront?"

"My uncle, most likely. He killed my father and kidnapped my mother when I was very young... he destroyed my world," he replied with a noncommital shrug of his shoulders. His hand drifted away from her, coming to rest against his lap.

"Will you forgive him?" she asked.

"I already have," he replied.

Sitting so close, caught up in their silence, winter blue met warm hazelnut and without even thinking about it, Miranda found herself leaning in toward Albert. Their lips met only briefly, a gentle kiss without reason or logic. A moment shared in the chaos of their war against the Moon and the God of Destruction. But in that moment, everything changed. Before, they were allies, maybe friends and nothing more. After the kiss, everything was thrown into question.

"I had no right... forgive me," Albert spoke quietly, getting back to his feet fluidly. The green cape flowed like a jade cascade, brushing against the backs of his calves, touching at Miranda's cheek as she turned away to hug her knees to her chest. He paused, waiting to see if she would reply, if she regretted the moment. Miranda found she had no words with which to speak, tears glistening at the corners of her eyes again. Head hung and shoulders slumped, the King of Serdio left the room without another word.

"I already have," she murmured in her solitude.

Miranda woke with the dream wrought memory thickly entrenched within her mind. Her body felt weary, weak for rising so early in the morning but she forced herself to sit up, finding that tears had dried on her cheeks. She brushed at them absently, praying her eyes would not be puffy and telling. Since that fateful moment, she had done her best to forget, especially after Melbu Frauma was defeated and everyone went on with their lives. Albert intended to marry Emille, he made that clear. She couldn't blame him, in the end. He was an honorable man who stuck by his word. But, part of her resented Emille, that she had been there first as Albert floundered in a sea of doubt and loneliness. That she had not gotten the opportunity to ease his pain before the pampered princess of Tiberoa.

Perhaps the reason why Albert had been so angry with her thoughts on Emille had been the truth behind her accusations. Emille filled a void in the aftermath of Lavitz' death, done hastily and without thought for the future. His guilt, his talk and babble about his sins and refusal to explain any of it suddenly made sense. Miranda shook her head, resolve returning as she realized suddenly that Albert refused her for fear she were another infatuation, another prop to occupy his time.

Well, Miranda the First Sacred Sister of Mille Seseau was certainly not about to be fill any void or act as any prop. Determined, she tossed the coverlets aside and swung her legs out of the bed. She would rise, get dressed and after breakfast track His Majesty down and force him to stop living in his own guilt riddled cage. A ruler was supposed to be dignified and she saw no dignity or regality in self loathing.

However, her thoughts cut short as she glanced down at her calves. Winter blue eyes widened in shock and horror, scrambling to lean over toward the window and grasp the curtains, thrusting them open to allow the morning sunlight to stream into the room. To her dismay, silvery scales glistened on her legs. Just a few, but running a hand over the roughness convinced her of their reality. What in the world was going on? She pulled the nightshirt back enough to reveal the Dragoon Spirit there, still buried within the flesh of her chest and sinking deeper.

"Miranda? Are you all right in there?" a voice called as a fist pounded against the door. Startled, the Sacred Sister jumped and then leapt to her feet to answer the door before the voice on the other end knocked it down. Albert stood there, barely dressed in a nightshirt and a hastily thrown on pair of breeches. Behind him was Meru and Kongol, dressed in their own nightwear. She immediately knew that her horror was shared. Meru's shoulder glistened with blue scales, Kongol's chest bore the beginnings of gold and all alone Albert's forearms came the tint of green. The only one of them not accounted for as Haschel, for Dart and Shana did not have Spirits.

As if on cue, another door down the hallway swung open, Haschel staggering out while staring at his hands. The backs of them glistened with the same scales everyone else had begun to find, though his were a deep purple. All of them stared at one another, gazes flickering about without the need for words. It was Albert who suddenly confirmed their innermost fears.

"I... I think I know what became of Emille."

(To be continued, stay tuned true believers!)