Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters ^_^

Dawn and Moon Wars

Chapter Eighteen

The once bustling town of Ransik now stood dead, as a lone figure entered the courtyard. The stench of blood and decay still permeated the air and eyes, too bright and wild to belong to a sane man, surveyed the bonfires that had once burned. Occassionally, he would spot a body not allowed to touch the purifying flames of the once roaring fires and his lips would curl into a disgusted frown, pulling at the scar that would forever haunt his delicate beauty.
Quatre paused in the middle of one dirt road, seeming to listen to nothing, as a faint breeze tousled his blonde locks. He understood what had happened in the city, knew from the glimpses of memory within Dorothy's mind that she and her companions had fallen upon the slave trade and destroyed it…
And with the evidence set before him, the battle for freedom had obviously been fierce… And now, the city had become a ghost town, both slaves and traders leaving for a less cursed land. However, the bard cared for none of that—all his mind focused on was that Dorothy had been here. She had walked down these roads, slept in one of the now abandoned inns…
With that Elysian by her side…
He quietly snarled, then tensed… One hand raising to test the soft wind that seemed to dance around his figure…
"You cannot hide from me… Come out or I will be forced to kill you." Words so strange when spoken in a tone so soft and pleasant. His once gentle nature still rested within his voice, a mockery of the tainted soul he now possessed.
Quatre waited patiently, as a figure slowly moved from the shadows, revealing a giant of a man, a sword calmly gripped in one hand. Brown eyes peered down at the shorter bard; "Strong words from a man that doesn't carry a sword."
The bard smiled, again pulling at the scar that cut across his face, "Some men do not need swords. Some have weapons, which are far better and easier to hide."
"A mage then." The giant frowned, "Sent here by that Moon?"
One blonde eyebrow arched, "You know of His Majesty? Why would he be interested in Ransik of all places?" But the bard had a feeling he knew the answer before his question had even been completely formed. The giant's response confirmed his thoughts and caused that insane light to shine brighter within his blue eyes.
The man's free hand pulled something off his belt, holding it out for the mage to see. Silver glinted in the sunlight, while dwarven gems seemed to shine brighter than the sun. It was a masterpiece of beauty and skill, implanted with magicks of both human and dwarf nature. A work of pure genius that would allow Quatre to follow through with his plan—to teach Dorothy a small lesson.
One pale hand reached out and took the collar, fingering the smooth metal. "Ah, I see why my lord showed interest now…" His smile widened, as he met the giant's brown gaze, "I work for the Moon, but was not sent here… It seems, however, good fortune has brought me here. Have you been waiting long for one of my Moon's men?"
A nod, "Since the slave's revolt…"
"Why wait here? Why not leave like the others?"
"My former… employer… had a deal with the man you call the Moon. Though, he is dead now, I do have honor… I will fulfill this last goal and then be free to leave."
Quatre frowned in concentration, one hand still holding the collar; "Such loyalty is worth much these days… Do you seek to join the Moon, sir…? Your name, please. Mine is Quatre."
"Rashid, and I do not know where my road will lead."
The bard eyed the man before him then slowly nodded, the wind whispering its secrets to him… It spoke only the truth and this Rashid was indeed an honorable man. "If you wish to rid yourself of the collar then I will take it to the Moon and if there are more…" His eyes darted to the belt Rashid wore and the obvious silver bands ordaining it. "I will take those, as well, and free you of your task."
There was a pause, as Rashid surveyed the youth before him… He was not a stupid man; he knew that something dark lurked beneath those sky-blue depths… And within his soul, the giant felt sorrow for the darkness he knew rested within this Quatre… Something, perhaps intuition, told him that at one time this man had been a great person… A person, that had times been different, he felt would've made a great impact in his life…
But these were dark times even he realized that… He was not a subject of the Dawn lands nor would he ever be, yet the struggle of power going on in that nation was effecting the entire world… The outcome could mean hope or death for everyone, even a plain warrior like himself could understand that. And he understood that with the dark times, people once pure could become tainted and twisted…
He could only mourn the loss and move on…
And it was time to move on, time to leave and find his men, whom he had sent away soon after the revolt.
So, with an unsure hand, Rashid handed over the collars to the mage before him and without another word turned and left…

*

Light flickered about the small campsite, casting shadows upon dark shadows. Months ago, the sight of such bleak blackness and the fear of what could not be seen would have driven the young woman sitting before the fire into the arms of her mother… Yet that mother was lost forever and Relena was no longer the innocent, frightened girl she'd once been; a pampered princess borne to a life of luxury. She was that no more and it showed in the way that she calmly added wood to the hungry flames.
It also showed in the soot-covered gloves that she wore, hiding what she'd become… Soft blue eyes stared into the orange, almost blue tinted, tongues of flame, a hardness lurking within their depths. The color of fire was comforting when compared to what stained her eyes whenever she let her guard down.
Red, red wine. A paint, a slash of brooding, breathing color. Dark and bright, a red of so many shades.
"There now." She leaned back, smiling at the elderly woman that had decided to follow her. "He'll be back soon with dinner. He doesn't like the fire, so try not to say anything about it, please. I can handle dark glares, but he has his pride." Relena trailed off, her companion not uttering a word… Which was not unusual. The Crone rarely spoke, yet the Dawn did not mind talking to another silent companion. After all, Heero wasn't one for conversation either.
'So much anguished pride. Pride in what he once was, pride in how he copes, pride in that he has no pride. A paradox of emotions in a human who isn't even human.'
A slight noise, produced only for her benefit, announced his return. Dark eyes fell on her, causing a shiver to run through the Dawn. However, she met his gaze, unaware of the dark, swirling emotions within her eyes. Emotions as twisted as the ones she saw within him.

"To love a caged animal is to ask for sorrow, my love. For one day, you must set it free… Or watch it die in captivity."

Words spoken a lifetime ago by a mother who had looked sadly upon her young daughter, a caged bird singing sorrowfully before the young girl's eyes. Relena had never once thought she would use those same words toward a male… Yet so much could change for one mere woman.
"Good hunting?" Her voice was pleasant and not overly loud, her eyes looking back toward the fire as he moved forward, placing the two rabbit carcasses over the fire with deft, agile hands that seemed to not feel the flames' heat.
"We're moving slowly." He replied, his voice steady and serious, a blunt edge to it, as he glanced at the silent Crone. "She slows us down."
The two had gone over this nearly every night since separating from Dorothy and the Dawn nearly sighed, "I will not leave her behind. She wouldn't be able to survive the woods by herself… If you want her to stay behind, then I will stay with her."
And like always, Heero's eyes would darken as he stood, towering over the smaller woman before turning and walking away, leaning against a tree to watch the woods around them. If Relena didn't know the Panther so well by now, then she would've believed him to be sulking.
Except this night he merely towered, seeming to have no intention to turn away. "We should be in your lands by now. It is you that wishes to return home and find your people to build an army. She slows us down. Every day we are forced to rest for her is a day more of your people die, depleting your army before it has even begun."
Relena frowned, casting a glance toward Crone, knowing his words had to have reached the other woman. However, the old woman merely smiled when she caught Relena's worried gaze. "She's a person, not some thing we can just leave behind. I see her, I can touch her, and I will not leave her behind to die when I have a choice."
"So, you choose a woman whose own death is obviously soon over the lives of your subjects. She isn't one of your people, Relena." There was almost a hint of anger within the Panther's voice, as Relena stood. Though shorter than the man-beast before her, her anger allowed her to make up for the difference.
"How can you be so cold-blooded! We've discussed this and I will not change my mind! I will not leave a defenseless human alone to await her death! I will not!"
Now, Prussian blue eyes seemed to darken to nearly black, anger and impatience painted across his usually stony face. "You allow your own people to die for one woman. I thought you were different from other humans."
His words stung and the Dawn lashed out, "And I thought you were different from other wild beasts!"
The words seemed to hang there… It had been so long since the two had referred to each other as mere human and animal… They had been through so much and suddenly, Relena felt as if she had just been pushed back across every line she had fought so hard to pass… Fought so hard to get close to the male before her…
Heero's face seemed to close, emotion nonexistent, as he spun around and stalked away…
She couldn't let him leave like this… Relena knew that with all her heart if she let him walk away then everything would be different… And not for the better… She would lose him.
"Heero, please!" The words were set free from her restricted throat…
And with them came a crushing reality…
One, she realized even before she saw his entire body stiffen… Before his hand was on the hilt of his sword and the blade's tip was pressed against her throat… Before she saw the haunted look of betrayal and disbelief within his eyes…
She had spoken his name… His most precious possession… In front of another human…
And she knew, as the blade suddenly fell and the Panther spun around, running into the woods, unable to kill the woman that could set him free… Knew, as she fell to her knees, tears sliding down her face…
Knew that he'd never forgive her.

*

Skin as white as snow tensed, opening and closing into a fist, as Sally stared at her reflection. Her other hand, a healthy tan (though weeks within the confines of the caves had lightened it), copied the motions creating a direct and disturbing contrast. Her eyes, usually a reflection of her emotions, now seemed dark and empty, as she continued to watch the movements of her hands… Reminders of the path that now lay before her…
It took effort to pull her eyes away from the talent that had been so quickly bestowed upon her, a gift that could so easily become a brutal curse… The soothing, healing touch of magick easily twisted into the very thing it sought to heal… The power of such an incredible gift could drive some people mad, its power to both destroy and heal driving one to become an unstoppable chaotic force… Which was why a healer had to be chosen… A being with the heart and soul of a healer… A powerful gift.
Yet, it came with a price… The Sadist Queen's son had proven that, showing her the price for healing a male…
Though, perhaps, Lanetta was right. Perhaps, after time and practice, she would be able to handle the power needed to heal men. The power of a god as powerful as the Mother, but different… So terribly different…
A slight shudder traveled through the Healer, her eyes darkening with the memory of the unfamiliar magick she had channeled into the young Sadist male. Where the feel of the Mother had always been a fiery warmth, a golden light of comfort and home; the power summoned from the Father had been liquid ice pouring through her body with the finesse of a blade… There had been no feelings of home and peace, no warmth, instead just a feeling of being invaded by an unseen force.
'Yet', Sally frowned, her mind going back to that strange moment, 'there had been a moment… A fierce second of feeling… embraced… As if, arms were around me, so unfamiliar and unusual, but not unwelcome.'
"Deep thoughts, young healer?" The words, so silky they nearly caressed, broke Sally's reverie and she turned to face the Sadist Queen.
"No deeper than usual." The Healer forced her body not to tense, as Lanetta's elegant hands reached out to smooth the silky gray fabric covering the healer's arms. The dress Sally wore was a gift; a simple, ankle-length dress that came to her throat with a skirt that flared out from an empire waist. Lightly pepper speckled fur adorned the hems of the sleeves and skirt, while matching gloves rested upon her bed. Sturdy boots, a present from the dwarves, covered her feet, while her hair had been freed of its tiny braids, allowing her to return to her usual hairstyle.
Lanetta smiled, white teeth gleaming in the dark cavern, "That's good. Harsh times lie ahead for you, healer. It will be amusing to watch, perhaps lessen the boredom to follow since the dwarves are to be left alone." She stepped back, pushing aside waves of chestnut hair, her eyes belying her pleasant tone.
Sally refused to reply, instead moving toward the bed holding both gloves and a small pack containing only what she'd received from the Sadists. 'How strange that a race whose very being enjoys the loss of honor has so much to spare when it comes to their own.' Her mismatched hands disappeared under the soft fur and canvas-like cloth that made up her new gloves before lifting the pack, turning to face the quiet Queen.
A sheet of obsidian, polished and bewitched, reflected the Sadist, her once cruel and cold eyes now clouded with worry and perhaps even guilt. "Do you even realize how much you have effected us? One mere human… An innocent… One little girl, and you've managed to make, to feel…" Lanetta's soft voice trailed off, then suddenly she stood before Sally, her hand taking the Healer's.
"My kind and I owe you a boon for the life of our Prince." Something slid into Sally's palm and the healer stared at the necklace she now held. "Should you need our help, press your lips against the stone and call my name. No matter what you ask, we pledge our dark souls to the deed." The Queen watched, as Sally lifted the simple necklace, the gold chain catching the sparse light, causing dots of gold to dance across the walls. An oval-shaped black stone rested within a simple setting and closer inspection revealed the stone to be a black opal. The craftsmanship surprised the healer and it showed in the questioning glance that she sent the Queen's way.
"Dwarves are not the only creatures with a talent in gems and metalwork." Her words seemed almost amused, but there was a feral gleam within her dark eyes.
Sally shook her head slowly; "I cannot, what I did was merely—."
"No." The simple word almost seemed mocked by the strength and command inlaid within the voice that spoke. Lanetta's eyes glittered dangerously, an aura of dark power wavered around the Queen's form like a second skin. "You will take it or is our Prince's life worth nothing?" There was a dangerous purr to the question, which made Sally's skin tingle.
"After all, we both know what you will call my people to. It will be most amusing."
"What do you mean? How can you know before me?" Sally unconsciously shook the chain at the Sadist Queen, confusion painted across her features.
Lanetta raised an eyebrow; "Humans are such amusing creatures, not seeing what is right before them." One pale hand raised, gripping Sally's chin in a very familiar and discomforting hold. "You are a healer, but you know that not everyone can be saved. Death is inevitable. Remember that. Death comes to all and one day you will have to choose between the life of one versus thousands. Choose carefully, Healer."
Sally jerked away, "I am a healer, not a leader. Such decisions are not up to me."
A cruel laugh echoed through the cavern, "Not a leader? Who does the blood witch obey? Who would the human warrior lay his life down for? Who do they follow? Those two are strong, powerful beings with even stronger wills, yet they follow you."
"Would you put their acts down by saying you are not a leader when they so obviously see you as such? You accepted that role the moment you followed your companions into my realm and faced me to save them. Those two would follow you anywhere and you would take full responsibility for whatever befell them. You are a leader in the truest sense of the word, that role is as tied to your being as healing is."
Slowly, Sally raised the necklace and slipped the chain over her head, allowing the stone to rest over her gray gown. "Goodbye, your majesty…" The healer walked past the Sadist, bundle in hand, and toward the opening that led to the network of tunnels leading both outside and to the dwarf realms. Outside her friends awaited, from here she could see them and already Hilde was grinning, as Wufei seemed to struggle with a small smile… Yet, Sally found herself turning away and facing Lanetta's back, the Queen having remained still.
"I will be seeing you again… Won't I?"
The Queen's face was reflected in the obsidian mirror and Sally watched, as Lanetta's brown eyes seemed to shine and red lips widened into a sadistic smile, "Of course, dear healer. Just call my name and I will come."
"I don't want to be the cause of anyone dying…"
"War rarely gives a leader the choice of saving all."
Sally's throat felt dry, but her face showed only a steely determination and a slow acceptance, "War is a truly terrible thing, even you must admit that."
Lanetta's smile seemed to widen, "A terrible thing, but remember who you speak with, Healer. Our very nature loves such terror. Do not feel sorrow when you call us to the field, remember what we are. And what you are, Holder of the Glove. Till then."
Sally hesitated then her head jerked in a quick nod before turning away. "Till then." The healer's feet moved toward her friends, ignoring their concern and questioning glances for her expression and the necklace she now wore. Perhaps, the Sadist was correct… Maybe she was a leader, but she was also a healer and that would always come first…
Right?

*

There was nothing truly wondrous about the lake set somewhere near the Wood's western edge. Its shape was neither round nor oval or its water sparkling clear or despairingly dark. It was only a foot or so deep near the edges, the outline of gray rocks peeking through the water, while near the middle its depth was unknown… Though it couldn't be too deep for an experienced swimmer.
The area surrounding it was likewise unusual. The trees were farther apart around the pool, allowing one's vision to see past them to only more and more woods. On its right, however, the trees faded into a field that at one point had held some sort of crop. But with fall already behind them and winter nipping on their heels, the crop had long been harvested.
All in all, it was not the sight Dorothy had been expecting when Solo had announced they had arrived. If this was Elysia, then she and Duo were going to have a very serious conversation.
The sorceress sighed, as she leaned against Aurora, ignoring the horse's huff. Her hands were busy, one holding the blood dagger while the other slid a finger along its length over and over, and for once her mind was not focused on the problems of heritage, nobility, emotions, or war… Instead, it was one quivering mass of nerves, as she watched the three elves conversing near the pond with its unknown depths…
How deep did it go in the middle?
"So, this be ye land. Strange… Imagined sumthin' a bit bigger." Nattie's deadpan sarcasm was off set by the large grin she wore. The warrior-woman's tall form moved to stand beside the sorceress, her eyes softening a bit as she glanced toward the silent younger woman. Since Dorothy's name slip, the sorceress had pulled even farther away from the group, barely answering questions directed her way with a yes or no.
"An illusion, human." Une answered, Rose held loosely in one hand, as her warm brown eyes stared out at the lake. The usually stern, haughty voice seemed incredibly gentle and soft, as the elf spoke and the two human females exchanged a look. "The way to Elysia lies within the depths of illusion. The way to home…"
Solo patted her shoulder; "You'll be at his side soon."
Une smiled her eyes on the blade she held. "Yes…"
"We'll have to blind the horses." Duo looked up from where he'd kneeled next to the lake, running his fingers through the strangely lukewarm water. "They'll panic otherwise."
A quick nod sent a black curl to fall into Solo's eyes and the elf quickly pushed it aside, mentally adding a reminder to trim both it and the stubble that had formed on his chin. Unlike, his majesty he hadn't bothered to shave during their short stay at the cursed town of Ransik. "Une and I can handle that, the barriers will be yours, cousin."
Duo flashed a grin, "Hope no one minds a little swim."
"What do you mean?" Dorothy's voice felt rough from lack of use these last few days, but the words were clear. Cool blue eyes watched as the Elysian King stood, wiping his hands on breeches already travel-stained.
"The quickest way to Elysia is by gates." The sorceress struggled to hide her confusion for she had never heard of "gates". She had no reason to hide her ignorance, though, Duo already knew the humans lacked much in the field of magick. "Gates are a cousin to teleporting, except the spell and magick is infused within a solid object of power. Elf magick is highly different from the elements that humans are only allowed to use. It is more—." A cough from Solo drew the elf short and Duo grinned sheepishly, "And I'll explain the differences between human and Elysian magicks later…"
He motioned toward the lake, "For now, all you need to know is this is illusion. Or mostly illusion… There is a lake, but it's not a lake. A gate lies within the waters, so just take a deep breath and plunge in. You'll feel a slight tingle then you're feet will touch ground and ta-da!" His grin widened, causing violet eyes to shine, the gold nearly blinding for a second, his joy at returning home obvious.
Dorothy could not share that joy and Nattie's quick hands jerked the dagger out of the sorceress's hands, as the blade slipped and tore through flesh already too used to its touch. Blood stained pale skin, as Dorothy's hands clenched into fists, her face struggling not to twist itself into a mask of fear…
The jumbled mess of nerves within her mind had suddenly exploded into a frightened, panicky voice. "Plunge… In…"
Duo raised an eyebrow, "Yeah… What? Can't stand getting wet? You'll be dry by the time you reach the other side."
Nattie slowly shook her head, eyes not leaving the pale face before her, "I doubt that be what's botherin' her… Ye can't swim, can ye?" The last was directed to Dorothy, whose blue-gray eyes seemed so pale, as if all the color had been washed out of them.
"No."
"What?! But I know you've used pools along the way! To bathe! You have to be able to swim!" Duo's voice, shocked and perhaps even a bit angry, seemed far away as the sorceress stared out at the seemingly harmless body of water.
Her own voice seemed equally distant, the words falling past numb lips. "They were never deep pools. They all came to my waist." 'How deep does it go?' The words of her companions were lost, as she struggled to gather the threads of courage and dignity that had shattered with the mention of entering the water before her. She had never had to face the fear of water before… The Dawn lands bordered only land and Relena had never shown any interest in swimming before…
"We could blind her as well."
"No… You know it wouldn't work. She knows the water is there, nothing would make her forget something so obvious."
"Why all the worry? Dorothy can handle a bit of water. Can't you, Dorothy?"
It wasn't so much a fear of the water, but a fear of the unknown… Everything she had faced so far had held some sense of familiarity, but this… All that water… And she had heard so many stories of the pain, loss of self, one could experience in drowning…
'But…' A small part of herself, the strong, stubborn woman, emerged from the tattered mess of her mind and whispered. 'But Duo said it was mainly illusion… He'll hold it back… I trust him.'
Water softly flowed over leather enclosed feet and Dorothy blinked, wondering when she'd moved to stand in the pond's unusually warm water. A serene smile flitted over her features, making her look so young in the eyes of her companions. Then it was gone and she turned to face them, their conversation forgotten at her sudden movement toward the lake. Her eyes flashed, as her features settled into a familiar expression of impatience and arrogance, "What are you people doing? I would like a warm bed and bath sometime tonight."
Duo's grin was far too wide and happy in Dorothy's mind and the sorceress looked away when it turned toward her. "All right. You heard the lady!" As the elves moved in position, Dorothy refused to watch any of them. Her eyes remained focused on the water that soaked into her boots, creeping up her pants… A part of her still screamed in terror… A part of her always would… It was only natural that, as a sorceress she'd fear an element she had no control over naturally…
But she could handle it now… She would always be able to manage.
With Duo at her side…
And for now, she would ignore the reasons that might be… For those reasons brought more fear than any amount of water could…
A warm, comforting hand gripped her forearm and Dorothy looked up to meet Nattie's gaze. "He be sayin' it ready, whatever it be." She smiled, concern still flittering across her scarred features. "We be goin' at the same time." Dorothy nodded, understanding the unvoiced reasoning behind the decision. Should she panic, Nattie would be able to subdue her if need be. "Ready?"
A sharp, aristocratic nose, something she knew she had received from her father, pointed toward the sky, as Dorothy's head raised proudly. "I am always ready."
"Oh?" Nattie's smile widened into a relieved grin, "So be it!"
And together, sorceress and warrior disappeared into the water…

*

He wouldn't look at her. It was as if she no longer existed… He just moved, back stiff, eyes focused ahead, not caring if she followed or not. Not caring if an occasional branch slapped against her skin, not caring about the blood, dry and fresh, that he could smell on her. He did not care about a mere human.
Especially one that had betrayed him so carelessly.
And he would not allow himself to quietly admire her lack of complaints at his quick, almost dangerous pace. Or worry over how she allowed the forest to attack her so viciously and raised not one finger to end the pain. He knew that if he turned around, he would see a woman bruised and battered. He knew blood would speckle her arms, legs, and face. He knew that the clothes he'd bought for her were now most likely torn and dirtied.
He knew her eyes would no longer hold that special, inhuman light…
It was as if he traveled with the dead… And he ignored the stab of guilt and pain, which seemed to strike his very soul each time he realized that in some way he had managed to kill the woman behind him without striking a blow. Heero was not used to such emotions nor did he like them. Why should he feel guilty? She had foolishly betrayed him, angrily named him a mere beast. She had proven herself a human through and through.
So, why was his mind cluttered with all these emotions? Why did it bother him that she had called him a beast? Why did a human's words effect him? What was it about this mere girl that could make him feel?
He was an animal. The only reason he traveled with and protected this girl was to return to his natural form.
Right?
A quiet snarl escaped past his lips and Heero angrily pushed aside a branch, the wood snapping under the unnecessary force. Behind him, the Crone tsked and his lips curled in a low growl, as a hoarse, amused voice sounded from the old woman's wrinkled face, "Temper, Heero." Relena winced, as the Panther spun around at the mention of his name, stalking toward the elder his eyes glittered with savage intensity.
"Do not tempt me, human." His voice was low, the hint of a growl laced around each word.
The Crone chuckled, "Poor, poor creature. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide." Had Relena not been more worried over the outcome of the scene before her, she might've questioned the strange clarity and almost mystic meaning of the old woman's words… "Fear not, no secret is safe with me." Her harsh, throaty laughter grew and Crone's amusement over her own words was obvious in the way her body shook.
Another snarl escaped from the dark assassin, his hands twitching, as he suddenly flowed, moving with that deadly feline grace till he stood behind the Crone, one hand gripping the back of her neck. An obvious tension lied within the Panther, his eyes clouded with emotions he didn't understand.
"No!" Relena's voice, not heard in three days, broke through his animal rage and he glanced at her, eyes connecting. "Please. It's not her fault… It's mine. Please, don't. Please." There was a quiver in her voice, her throat constricting with dry sobs.
His hand released the older woman, who calmly walked away humming, "For now, I need you." Heero's face was hard, his words harsh and cold, their meaning clear to the Dawn.
A tremble went through the woman, her eyes seeming to darken even more, "I'm sorry. So sorry… If I could, I…" She looked away, unable to meet his critical gaze, "You hate me."
"Humans cannot go against their nature." Was his reply, a slap in the face for Relena, as he turned and prepared to walk once more.
The frenzied snaps of breaking wood forced him to turn and he watched, as Relena ran, her legs pushing her through the dense woods.
He could have followed and easily caught her.
Instead, Heero merely stood there, watching.

*

"Do you understand power, Lady Pluto?" Millardo's elegant fingers stroked the fine stem of a glass chalice, as he spoke. Dark red wine swished slightly at the movement, a single drop falling over the lip to slide till reaching long white fingers. Sylvia's eyes were strangely horrified and entranced by the vision of red staining those aristocratic hands… Such proud, handsome hands… Without a view of the callused fingertips, one might have thought they were the hands of a noble slave, a pleasure slave…
Yet, that single drop of red, red wine revealed more of his nature than any of the wealth and elegance around him. A drop to represent the countless women and men that had died during his attacks, his ruthless methods of dealing with rebellions… Sylvia's eyes narrowed: he would have to be bathed in blood to cover even a tenth of the horror he'd rained upon these lands in the last two months.
And if one needed another example of the harsh reality those fine hands could delve out, they only had to turn their eyes upon the women before him.
Sylvia was allowed to stand, her stiff and painful erect carriage displaying the little dignity and pride she still held. Tattered, dressed in rags, and forced to suffer the tortures of the man before her and the rants of a dead seer, she was still a Dawn woman. No matter what happened, she had to remember why she was here. There were reasons she had survived not just one, but two attacks led by this man… If the seer was correct, then her time was not up and if the dead were wrong then she would die doing what she had sought to do with every breath of her young life: live for the Dawn, pride for the Council.
Behind her was a clutter of older women, once the most powerful women beneath the Dawn and her Advisor, at times their equals. The remnants of the Galaxy Court were now thin, haggard looking women whom had seen very little daylight and their own share of torment. Sylvia had glanced at the group only once since being led to the Moon's throne-room; she had not glanced a second time for fear of losing her precious hold on composure.
Those powerful women, so haughty and proud, so wise and benevolent, had been reduced to shadows of their former selves. Hunger, pain, loss of hope, sorrow had driven them to their knees, forcing a few to rely on others to even do that much. And what had once been eight…
Was now six
The shock of those missing faces had hit Sylvia to her very core. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the two staring down at her—teaching, comforting, trying to save her from her choice of this masquerade. The two strongest women she'd met, in her own mind they were perhaps even stronger than the Dawn for it was these two that she had grown under. She had spent so many years of her life watching them with a childish wonder…
The backbone of the Court… The two women who had managed for so many years of their long, yet still too short lives to lead and teach… Two women who had been close friends with the Dawn… So perhaps in some morbid fashion, it was only right for them to have found their way to their friend, their Queen…
There would never be a Mercury or Venus, as great as they, those two nameless women…
"Power is a means to an end." He continued, not waiting for an answer from the silent woman before him. Had Sylvia glanced at his face, she would've noticed a flicker of something cross his features before passing away quickly during the silence of a second. "You once held power, great miraculous power over the lives of all that lived within these walls. But power is almost a solid entity; it can be taken away… Just like this very chalice. Just like a certain special cup." He lowered the fragile glass onto a silver tray that had seemed to materialize beside him. In reality, the woman slave Sylvia had met earlier on in her meetings with the Moon was kneeling, the tray held over her bowed head.
"Sometimes things, people even, stand in the way of grasping power. Power that is rightfully mine…" He rose, like a leopard stalking his prey, and began to circle the standing woman. "And such obstacles must be dealt with quickly and appropriately." Those long fingers were suddenly on her, grasping her chin painfully, forcing her eyes to meet his. "I am a warrior, my dear lady Pluto, not a diplomat and thus I fear my methods are simple and crude."
Sylvia swallowed unconsciously, her eyes almost trapped within his gaze. Vaguely she knew magick was being used, that it came from the Moon, and in the background there were sounds of fighting from the other women… But it all seemed so little compared to the realization that struck her to the very heart, as she stared into the Moon's eyes.

"My Morning Star, I am pleased to make your acquaintance." Sylvia curtsied before the girl that was a year younger than her, struggling to hide the disbelief she still felt whenever she saw the young girl. In a few days, she would be the Dawn… But she seemed so young and innocent.
"Oh." One delicate eyebrow rose in confusion, even as her lips curved into a sweet smile. Beside her stood a taller girl, her long, white blonde hair carelessly pushed aside, as cool blue-gray eyes scrutinized Sylvia. "I fear you have me at a disadvantage, miss. I apologize, but I must ask, who are you?"
The other girl spoke before the representative could, her voice as smooth and polished, as the marble they stood on. "Lady Sylvia, your grace, the representative from the Galaxy Court. We were otherwise engaged when she arrived." Something flashed between the two girls and both grinned before returning their attention to the Representative.
"It is no offense, my Star. I only wished to offer you my pledge of loyalty before the ritual. I fear I must leave the day after and will not be able to see the new Dawn ascend her throne."
The words brought a surprising change in the girl before her, a face that seconds ago had seemed innocent and happy, suddenly clouded, her features twisting into a more regal, sad smile. Eyes lit with the glow of youth, darkened as solemnity prevailed. The girl now appeared to be the Queen she would soon become, her expression serious and dedicated.
"Yes… Thank you, Representative. The day is fast approaching…"
"My Star, we are needed elsewhere. Excuse us, lady." The Star's Advisor nodded once to Sylvia before following the Morning Star.

It was the first and last time, Sylvia had spoken privately with the Morning Star, but it had been enough for her to rid herself of all doubts. The woman that had walked away from her that day had held herself with the grace and wisdom of a Queen, for only a true Queen would understand the sorrow to come upon her the day she accepted the throne.
The Star's expression and carriage had struck the Representative, implanting within her the knowledge of what a true royal should express with their carriage, face, their very eyes…
Before her, she saw that expression on the face of a man… Within his eyes, there was the strength of a…
King.
And the resemblance, the horror that stole through Sylvia overpowered any and all reaction to what went on around her… Overpowered the panicking whispering voice that screamed as raw magicks roared around her… Overpowered the feeling of ghostly hands reaching into her very being and pulling upon her own weak magick to join the tempest around her…
Because she suddenly realized the terrifying magnitude of the events around her, finally understood why the seer had showed her images of people and things that had seemed so unrelated…
Everything was related. Everything they had done for the last century… The war that surrounded her world and controlled her life all boiled down to one small detail…
The betrayal of one woman had brought the world to war.
The Evening Star lived.

*

Teleporting was a difficult magick, only the strongest of mages and sorceresses could transport their entire being to an entirely different place. To do so, one had to have perfect memorization of both the place they were and the place they sought to be. Also, Wind had to be the mage or sorceress's natural talent, with an ability to control Spirit.
However, there were ways around such problems. One being, it was easier to teleport mere objects instead of a living soul. Two, if a strong mage or sorceress rested where one sought to be than a simple mental sending could allow a temporary ring of power to be created, allowing the spell to be both quicker and stronger. And with more people added to the ring, the stronger it would become…
A ring was a magical invention very similar to its predecessor, the bond, in the way it allowed a person to share another's magick. However, unlike a bond, a ring allows temporary control over many people's magicks through one. During the beginning of the women's rule, the sorceresses had realized the power and benefit of being able to join magicks, but with bondlings being outlawed they had been forced to revert to same-sex bonds. These new "bonds" were only temporary, however, lasting only as long as the necessary spell needed.
The trouble with rings, though the women had not realized it during their creation nor after years of use, was that with a ring a male's magick could enter and take control with no fear of creating a true bond. Male magick had to sense a feminine power alone to bond and with a ring there were too many threads of power to attach to and create the link needed for bondlings.
This fact, had the Dawn women known, would most likely have been met with disgust, but very little worry. For what male could possible be strong enough to overcome the power of a ring? It would take the Dawn herself to break a ring. Only royal blood…
Something, sadly for the females, Millardo had.
And Quatre, his mental powers naturally increased through the practice of his link with Dorothy, could very easily 'send' the Moon the information regarding the newly attained collars. So, it was that the bard informed and now awaited the Moon's magick to send all, but one of the highly prized collars…
It was the collars alone that had saved Quatre from the Moon's anger at having killed only one Dawn warrior and for nearly disrupting Millardo's concentration during an interrogation… The collars had saved his life… But they couldn't protect him from the threads of Spirit and Fire the Moon had so savagely poured into his already twisted mind.
Struggling to control his trembling form, Quatre buried his face in his hands, the after effects of the Moon's anger slowly fading. Blue eyes peered between long fingers to stare at the bundle of silver collars, the pain fading faster, as he thought of the advantage the simple bands would lend to the Moon once the Dawn attacked.
She would be forced to fight her own, a sadistic irony that forced a bitter smile to play across his features.
His hands fell and Quatre stood, stretching tense muscles. These months of tracking had changed the bard in more ways than one. The once almost frail body had hardened with weeks of walking. Arms and legs that once would've been of absolutely no use in a physical confrontation were now strong enough to hold their own in a test of physical strength, though such a way of fighting would never suit very well with the bard. The previously unblemished skin now sported a slight tan and an almost permanent coat of dirt and sweat. Occasionally, he had been able to find a spring or pool to wash, but it was a rarity and he couldn't waste magick on details like hygiene.
Quatre sighed, wiping his hands on travel-stained clothes, before lifting the lute that lay nearby. A quick strum announced the instrument in need of tuning and the bard sat, well-practiced fingers making the necessary adjustments. Finished, Quatre leaned back, eyes closed, as his hands moved expertly across the lute's string. Musician and instrument almost seemed one, as a sweet melody filled the small area… The music's simple beauty seemed evenly matched when compared to the creature that created it…
A part of him had missed this, even with the madness his bond had caused. He was a bard, a musician, and to him music had a magick all its own. After all, it was music that had brought him Dorothy… So long ago…
The blonde happily hummed, thoughts of pain and war left behind, as the music surrounded him.
So deeply entranced, he didn't notice the movement in the trees.

*

A/N: See! I said in a month, which for me meant some time in March, and I made it! Barely... Well, anywho, here's the next chapter and 19 should be out in at least two months, hopefully only one, but honestly I'm guessing 19 will be out sometime in May, if earlier YAY for me *^___^* Sorry for the wait! Ciao!!