Haven: Gundam Wing

By: Derrian Star

Chapter 7

It never seemed to end. The slow winding stairs leading them upwards. If they kept going, soon they would reach the clouds in the blue sky. Three separate threads sounded on the stone path. Trying to count them all would be impossible. The brain would quickly be confused by the repetition and lose track of which number went with which gray slab of rock. Thinking back to his last visit Quatre didn't remember the walk up to the Garden Towers being so long. But then again he had had been only about eight and possess endless bounds of energy. Energy now that only the braided one of the group currently held on to from his youth. Duo's steps still held a small bounce in them as he happy hummed a tune. Long length of hair swinging back and forth with the rhythm.

The blond once again silently cursed the builders of the great towers for not even easing the travel with a simple hand rail. Wondering how the advisor they spoke to could be right. Did his uncle really come up here every morning? And simply for the deed of watching the sun make its upward journey in the new morning sky and awaken the sleeping kingdom around the castle.

"Man! One misplaced step and your ogre soup huh?" Duo's chipper voice bounced loudly of the walls, traveling back down to where they started from, some hundreds of feet below them. "Good thing we didn't wear our armor huh Tro?"

The desert prince chuckled lightly under his shortened breath, slightly more evil images showing themselves in his minds eye then he would ever care to admit. "These towers 'are' said to span a height that rivals even the Reganis my friend."

"And their purpose for doing that 'was'??" The braided native question, taking two double long steps to be in stride with the young prince. Large violet eyes were obscured by forcefully slanted eyebrows.

Behind them Trowa huffed loudly. Obviously seeing where this was going.

Large unbelieving eyes pleaded for help to the tallest of them. Trowa merely shrugged his shoulders half heartedly; this was nothing new. Give Duo a thin piece of metal and he could break into the most fortified vault. Show him a map and it was instantly committed to memory. But ask him which direction the town of Water's Bend was located and he would simply comment. 'Which ever direction the water is in.'

The sound of flesh smacking echoed through out the winding stone staircase. "Do you not know of your own kingdoms history Duo?!" The Garden Towers were no where near a simple addition to the royal castle. They played key roles the history of the entire land of Thaayin, and were meant to keep events from the past from ever taking place again.

"Should I?"

Quatre signed when no help was given, the wooden door that would lead them out into the air came into clear view after one last turn on the stairs. "I will explain it later. Just try to keep out of trouble 'you' shouldn't even be up here. None but royalty and their personal guards have graced these gardens since the towers were built over a thousand years ago! And even those guards are not even permitted to pass the archway into the gardens."

A mumbled 'fine' was really all he had even expected to get from the other. At least Trowa would understand the importance with out being told each step along the way. "But don't you think that's a bit selfish?"

"Duo." The acrobat warned in a low tone.

"Wha?! It is!"

Aquamarine eyes gazed at Duo under the long fridges of blond. A bit perplexed but Quatre quickly concluded that the matter was best to be dropped for now. There was no time for a full blown history lesson. The wooden door that would lead them out into fresh air was finally sighted after the last turn.

The old oak door was the pathway into the King's Garden, the eastern set tower rising high above the land. It was a place of solitude. A place where countless kings sought out when their minds could no longer handle the constant pressure that was dumped upon them. Years let it flourish under loving hands and tender care. Many rare and nearly extinct species of plants made their home in the twin structures. Being the first to feel the warmth of the sun's embrace as it rose to great another day.

Quatre frowned as the door they reached was halted midway of opening. Perhaps something had fallen and was now keeping the entrance from opening. Peeking his head out the small opening Quatre was greeting by a sight of black and white.

Black being a set of eyes, slanted in a feature that was not native to an Arislanian, and narrowed to the point of closing. And white the robe like garment that the said 'blockage' was wearing. "Who . . !?" The young man's deep voice began to demand. Glaring at the one who dared to enter the tower before recognition sank in like a needle.

"Greeting . . ." Quatre spoke clearly, keeping the surprise out of both his words and features, instead allowing a trace of familiarity to coat the accented words. The mind simply could not mistake the similarity that his eyes now saw before him. It was a guard who stood before them, though his dress didn't really say so. In fact it was one of the guards that Quatre met on his first day in the city. One that in essence on that same day sentenced his death. ". . . Again."

Thin lips parted slightly as his eyes loss that sense of menace. "You!" He stated with surprise. The guard took a large step backwards so that the door could be fully opened and bowed deeply from the waist, the white material of his stiff clothing rustling with the movement, a tight warrior's tail of black hair falling over his left shoulder. Not only was it the proper sign of respect to a crowned prince, but it also worked well to hide the face until composer was once again regained.

"I am in search of the King." Quatre stated, coming straight to the point. "I was told he would be up here." Now was not the time for seeking answers for what had occurred that day. The vine over pass stood much like a tunnel over them, leading the only path to the main area of the garden from the stairs. It was purposefully arranged that way so that nothing but green could be seen until you went further in.

The young man straighten, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sheath less sword. A belt made of fine red silk held it securely at his side. Only after raising his dark gaze to once again meet with the prince's own did he speak. "His Grace is inside the gardens. He has been accepting your arrival Prince Quatre. Though as you are surely aware of, your guards may not go any further then this point."

The tension that hung in the sweet smelling air around them heightened by a notch. Quatre could almost 'feel' Duo agitation toward the guard. He to was able to identify the one who stood in front of them. Trowa as always was carefully masked from any sort of reaction. But he no doubt figured out that if this guard was here, that would mean that he 'was' the King's First and most trust guard. And if that said guard had turned a shoulder when a crime was being committed . . . He let the thought float off unfinished.

"Of course." Chin lowering a touch in thanks, the blond advanced forward into the garden as the slightly taller young man took a step off to the right. There was more to the guards actions then met the eye. That much the Voldian knew. But later . . . It would all have to be uncovered at a later time. And hopefully Duo wouldn't find the need to find the answers to those actions while he left the three alone.

Pale fingers ran over the large leaves of the ivy that made up the 'walls' that led to the center of the King's Garden. Very few of the other plants could he put a name to. Nothing but hardy cactus's survived in the heat and sand covered lands of the desert. He was sure at one point in time, as a child, he knew every single one of them. But the simple things that the mind of child is able to hold on to was rarely remembered when passing into adulthood. Flower no longer held an importance. All, except for Luminar flowers. Those had been his mother's favorite. Or so his father's stories told him.

Some part of their make up was so adaptive that they could live as easily in the dark as they did on the side of a sun kissed hill crest. Grass, sand, rock, if the moon's rays could reach it, then a Luminar could grow there.

They were unique in that way and for the fact that they would only bloom it the light of a full moon. Which ever moon it might be considering the two ran the race through their night skies. Which ever one it was though would determine the colour that the petals would be dyed as they curled open to greet the night. White with the showing of Aura small surface, and cerulean when Cerkadia revealed its entire face.

Not long after Quatre's parents wed did his father plant one of the inner caves complete with Luminar Flowers. A token of their binding, in hand and in soul. The cave to this day became alive in the light of a complete moon, blossoming, reaching out velvet petals to the pure light that beckoned them from a small opening skyward. He would often seek them out when silence was all that he wanted. His father did the same.

At the end of the ivy trail was where the clear view of the kingdom began. It was a breath taking sight no matter how many times it was viewed. Everything continued on for so many miles, branching out in all directions. The Greymista River that divided Thaayin into two equal parts. The Great Forest, a playground for many creatures that many never knew existed. And the outcropping arm of the Reganis Mountains, a pathway that would lead the prince back to his own homeland. There was a sparse amount of area in a hundred mile radius that was not viewable from this perch that Kings often took. That advantage was one of many causes that fueled the construction of the great towers.

A low standing stone bench facing the east is where he found the King of Arislan. Comfortably seated in full view of the morning sun, his blooming royal robes spread around in a neat fashion. Aged eyes kept watch on the sky as the last remains of red and orange hues faded away; paying no heed to the uncomfortable heat that plagued climate.

Upon hearing a foreign set of footsteps, the older man turned his gaze away from the stunning sight, smiling once he saw who it was, motioning with a half gesture of his hand the remaining spot on the seat before returning his eyes to the sun and clouds. They remained in silence, just enjoying that which was too often taken for granted by many people. A created solace that even eased the constant pressure that Quatre had weighing on his heart ever since he had met with those two boys in the alleyway that day. It was a time he would rather not remember. But found that a simple conversation could give him that same sensation.

The blond prince started in surprise as an extremely odd sound broke through his wandering thoughts. He hadn't notice the Fool's present in garden, nor would he ever except it to be there. But the slender man was curled up happily at the King's feet, this time dressed in a flowing costume of red. His curled head resting comfortably on royalty's knee, purring much like that of a content cat as an aged hand absent mindedly ran its way through the mousey locks.

A drawn out sigh brought Quatre's attention back to his uncle. "This is where I find the strength to continue." He paused. "On days when the burden is great and the body feels faint to continue. One look upon this land and I remember what it is I am striving to."

Several more moments of silence lapsed between them, in which time the shadows were seen as they crept along the hills and streets, trailing along behind the path of light the sun created, creating a canvas full of shadow. As the day progressed and the heat increased the living would follow along the shade's path, seeking out the amount of coolness that came along with it.

"What would you do if the land was lost?" Quatre asked, his mind coming up with the simple question long after the King had first spoken. Troubled orbs of blue intertwined with green studied the elder to his left. Seeking an answer that must surely be there somewhere, it was just that his own mind was so caught up with the events that he could no longer see all routes.

His uncle had surely seen much more then he; many more scenarios then Quatre would ever have encountered in his scant number years of existence. And each one could most certainly be worked through in a logical manner. The path of any battle could be made to double back if met by the correct strategy.

"Is that what you fear Quatre?" The snapped answer was immediate and unforeseen. It was not the answer that the blond was hoping to come out of this conversation. It was not the well laid out path that would guide him to crushing his opponents and freeing his father's lands. The King's grey gaze studied him closely, analysis the man his nephew had grown into. The man who would one day rule a kingdom such as he now did. But would that day be sooner then they all had expected?

Quatre experienced both the good and the scrutiny. He also felt the dread that could very well become his future. It wouldn't be easy, not matter what the outcome. He wasn't ready . . . Not yet . . .

Only when the knowing eyes lowered to smile at the curls that spread across his knee, was the Prince able to answer a single word, but one that had ruined greater men then the King sitting next to him. "Yes."

He was afraid, every day he feared in so many ways, more then he would ever admit to even his own father. It ashamed him to realize the truth then bring it to the front lines, no matter how much he pushed the frightening thoughts aside, it would never truly go away. But he couldn't lie, not on that day, not to his uncle. Doing so could never give him a good outcome.

Wrinkled fingers gently brushed the ringlets of soft hair down; smoothing them against the fool's resting head. Earning him another round of satisfied purrs before the each and every lock sprung back up into their odd standing position.

"It is admitting to being afraid that people fear the most. If they fear, they have no strength. If they are scared then they have failed. But remember this and 'only' this if that is all that you are capable of . . . 'Without' fear, I could never have accomplished all that I have. It is the fear that drives us to surpass our own limitations. It is fear that allows us to raise a sword and rush into battle. It is 'fear' that drove Gresto to sending his only son and heir away from the battle. Because along side of fear comes hope. The hope that his son would survive and someday reclaim that which is his was far greater then the fear he felt." Lidus watched as the small hands in his nephew's lap curled tightly into fists. "He knew the battle's outcome from the start Quatre."

Years of training could not mask the dread and realization that followed the words that Quatre heard spoken. "But . . . how . . ?" His words were choked off as the breath caught within his throat. It could not be true. They were all waiting for him. Hiding deeply away in the caves that flowed behind the rock castle, waiting for him to return with aid. He was sent to get the help that would save them all!

A small parchment was produced from the folds of the King's heavy robe. Held out so he could take it with his unsteady hands. The letter was from his father, marked in ink and hastily written. The lines therefore lacked the precision that Quatre had come to copy as his own. But the message was still there all the same.

'He should arrive before the Turning. Well before any danger has a chance to accrue.'

That was only two nights away, only that before the time when the moons found themselves full and back to back in the night sky. A simple game of hide and seek to the children. But the Turning was more then that. For only two marks on a candle was Aura hidden behind her older companion. The land would be dyed a hue of blue, deeper then the very sapphire on his ring that stood for the time watcher of the sky. The evening sky would appear as it use to be a thousand years ago. When there had been only one moon, and every night was a blue one.

In that time they called the Turning the land would mourn.

It would mourn for that loss that happened exactly one thousand year before. As it did every year when the white moon vanished. But this time was 'the' time.

'These creatures that attack my land are not natural. They were created by magic, and only by magic can they be destroyed.'

But the magic that once graced the land was no more. Everything capable would lift their eyes to the sky and cry for the moon that had watched it all end. Watched as the land was sucked of her life, sucked of the magic that flowed like blood through her deep veins, deprived of the magic that sustained the life and allowed it to flourish.

'I fear the stones may have been found.'

Once the magic was gone the land soon followed, wilting away to a brown film that no longer held any life in it. It all died. Even the sun lost the light that guided so many. Fading, shriveling, becoming a small white ball that now circled the sky several times an evening.

'Take care of him, because he will not understand. His own is the last he ever thinks of.'

The paper was crumpled with an angry cry. "A fool's quest! He sent me on a fool's quest! Not because he thought it would win the battle, but because he wanted my life to be spared!!" The abused message was shaken violently, hoping to drive sense into the words his father wrote.

With an anguished moan the desert born dropped his blond head into his hands. It couldn't be true. If the Desert Kingdom was to fall, he would fall with it. "When did this arrive . . ?" He managed to question in a quivering voice.

"Four more days and it would have been a month." Thread shifted on stone as the King turned to face his beloved nephew. The fool, having tumbled on to his back at the Prince's outburst was not disrupted by the change.

"Four days?" Tears burned, seeking a release. "How could he know so soon? The attack came only a few days prior. That couldn't be enough time to judge the end results. Surely he sent carrier pigeons to our allies . . . requesting aid from them. Our loyalties are strong; they would not have turned us down!" Desperation cause the pitch of his words to rise.

A sigh. "There were 'no' letters nephew." Gentle hands slowly took the brown parchment back, smoothing away the creases and returning it to the inner pocket that it came from. "'This' was the only one."

The pain was welcomed as Quatre's neatly trimmed nails dug into his skull. "Father, how could you be so stupid." The words were whispered through clenched teeth. Why hadn't the King of Volderon even tried to bring allies to the desert castle? Surely with help the tides could be turned in their favor.

He raised his head slightly when movement next to him signaled his uncle's departure. Pained eyes watched the old monarch make his way to the edge of the eastern most wall of the garden. His hands clasped firmly behind him, peering out over the stone ledge. "His reasons were sound, even if you can not see it. I fear there is much more to this then just a simple attack to Volderon. And I also feel that if the Rock Kingdom falls it will be the first of many. You came today to request the aid of my knight am I correct?"

Blond bobbed once in a nod when speech could not find an easy path out.

"And the stores in the caves will last for another month at least?"

Again a nod.

Scratching his beard Lidus took a careful moment to think, all the while aware of Quatre's needing gaze on him. A month was a short amount of time, even for an army on horseback, to reach the northern corner of the mountains were Volderon stood, carved out of the side of the Reganis.

But it also was not impossible. Not for the Arislanic Knights.

"Quatre." A decision was made. "Take Wufei and go down to the Arms Master building, inform him that three days from now Arislan will ride to Volderon's aid."