Hey what do you know chapter four already. Heh, must be all that extra money I am paying my secretary. Uh oh yeah, I don't have a secretary. Ah well. Readers and Reviewers; thank you.

A Moonlight Legend

by Atchika

Chapter Four

Beware of the One Eyed Jack

Darien made his way through the rest of his day as if he were in a fog. Most of his co-workers noted his gloominess and kept their distance. He completed tasks by rote and without enthusiasm. On dinner break he set alone and read a textbook for his Philosophy class. THEORIES OF REINCARNATION AND LIFE AFTER DEATH by Noimydne Neirad. An older gentleman who had stopped near his table interrupted his depressed thoughts. He looked up from his book and studied the man. A distinguished looking with only slightly graying hair, at least as tall as himself carefully dressed in a black business suit. But that wasn't what caught his attention; it was that he had one white eye. He watched the man cautiously as he seemed to fumble with a tray of food and a small package he was carrying. Gingerly he set the tray down on the table then the package. He checked his pockets looking for something seemed to notice the package he was carrying already on the table. He looked down at him and glanced quickly at the book and asked "May I sit here?"

"Sure...it's a free country."

He sat across from him and began to pick at his food. He wrinkled his nose at the fare and ate with feigned enthusiasm. He looked up to see him still watching him. Darien knew he was staring but couldn't seem to help himself. He suddenly thought of that old fortuneteller. He could be the same man but the age difference was just too hard to explain away. The resemblance was striking though. There couldn't be that many one eyed men roaming the city.

Looking back down at his food the man said, "Very good book that" he said waving a fork in Darien's direction. "Read it myself years ago." He leaned in a little. "Knew the author."

"You knew Noimydne Neirad?" he asked in disbelief.

"Of course," when he gave the man a skeptical look he said, "Boy, people don't exist in a vacuum. Everybody knows somebody. Besides, why shouldn't I have known him."

"Well from what I've read about him he's always been very reclusive."

The man smiled. "Well reclusive or not, I received a letter from him just recently. Seems he needed to remind me I had a job to do." He reached into a pocket and brought out a slightly crumpled letter. "But it has been several years since we've spoken face to face."

"Really?" the man had his full attention now, "You wouldn't happen to know if he's still around would you? I might like to look him up. I'm a great admirer of his writing."

"Oh he's around, but you know it's odd," he hesitated and smoothed the letter a little before returning it to his pocket.

"What's odd?"

"Well, I know this is going to sound strange but," Darien was beginning to get that sinking feeling again but decided not to interrupt, "he asked me to deliver this package." He tapped the small parcel wrapped in brown paper on the table. "Said he had done something foolish once and had to try and fix it." He paused again and looked up at Darien as if considering what to say next. Darien kept his face impassive and the old man continued, "Told me he was the reincarnated son of the last King, or some such rot." Darien still wore a detached look and the man continued hesitantly, "Anyway, I never knew what to make of that man. He said I would find a young man sitting at a table in the downtown cafeteria reading his book 'Theories of Reincarnation' on this date, at this time." he leaned closer then paused and looked around to see if anyone was paying attention then said in lowered tones "But the really strange part was he told me that almost 20 years ago."

Darien could feel his grip on the book tighten and he slowly set his book down on the table and asked casually, "Why are you telling me this?"

"It seemed to me, young man, you might need to know. This package came with the letter, " he tapped the package again. "He wrote that it was something you would need soon," he went back to his food he ate in silence for a while and after finishing he set down his silverware and drank down the rest of his tea. He talked with Darien about the weather and other things but made no further mention of the letter or the package. As he was getting up to leave he said, "Um, there's one more thing." Darien wasn't really sure he wanted to hear it but decided he really didn't have much of a choice. "His letter also said something that didn't make any sense. He wrote for me to tell you not all dreams come true."

"Excuse me but what did you say?"

"That not all dreams come true. That was all it said just to tell you that," He must have gotten really pale because the man had a look of concern on his face. "Are you all right? I apologize, did I say something wrong?"

"You have no idea." He replied rubbing his face. "Who are you anyway?"

The man just smiled and said, "No one of any interest really. You know, Darien, if Noimydne said you would need this," he said tapping the package still on the table, "I would take his word for it."

He said nothing as he stared back at the man's one blue eye. Something in his mannerisms still tugged at Darien's fractured memories. He had almost put a name to it when a young woman came up and touched his arm. He looked up at her she smiled and asked for the time, "Um," he said as he looked at his watch. "It's 6:55."

"Thanks." She smiled again and walked away.

When Darien looked back, the man was gone. Why was he not surprised? Twenty years ago? He rubbed his temples lightly, great another headache. Forget it he told himself. If you keep thinking about this you really are going to fall off-center. He gave his attention back to his book. A short time later he got up to return to work picking up his things he noticed the package still sitting on the table where the man had set it down. He looked at it there on the table for a while. Finally deciding not knowing was worse than knowing. He picked it up and his eyes opened wider as he read the neatly printed label.

Prince Endymion

Again the world seemed to bend in on itself then settle back into place. This was starting to happen way to often. What was going on? He looked around but no one else seemed to notice. Who was that guy? Why does this stuff keep happening? He stuffed the small package into his jacket pocket and returned to work. One thing was for sure if he saw that man again he would definitely be asking more questions.

After work Darien went home and carefully sets the package on the living room table. Obviously the guy knew who he was or at least who he had been and that meant he was dangerous. But where was the connection? Pushing aside his dread he began to carefully unwrap the package. Inside was a small wooden box. It was intricately carved with dozens of tiny roses. He removed the rest of the wrapping and studied it carefully. There didn't seem to be any way to open it. He ran his hands along the edges of the box. No visible seam. A puzzle box? He felt himself smile as he remembered he had always enjoyed them as a boy. He had even carved a few. Carefully he pressed each rose, he felt for the ones that had a little give to them. Finding three he pressed them in different orders until he tried them all at the same time. The latch gave with an almost inaudible click. He marveled at the maker's ability. The seam followed the natural grain of the wood. He carefully opened it and inside, wrapped in a piece of green velvet was one perfectly formed crystallized rose.

He thought back to the previous night so it hadn't been just a dream. Carefully he lifted the rose he held it up into the fading sunlight. It seemed to draw him closer reminding him of something just out of reach. The rose flashed and the whole room began to flicker, in a panic he dropped it and it bounced silently on the floor. The world around him stabilized. He stared at the flower there on the floor as he fought the urge to pick it up again. Suddenly Darien realized what that flicker of energy had reminded him of. The same energy he felt when throwing a rose as Tuxedo Mask. While he had been looking at it he must have tried reaching into it to touch that familiar power. He lifted the flower being very careful not to look directly at it. Wrapping it he replaced it in the wooden box and closed it with a sigh. The box returned it to its seamless state and he set it back on the table. He sat back on the sofa stared at the box and sighed again. That was a little too close.