Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters ^_^
Dawn and Moon Wars
Chapter Nineteen
The day he'd left Elysia, Duo had been overcome with a feeling of relief
and despair. The human world had seemed so harsh and crude, overrun by
emotions that tore and ate at their weaker souls. It wasn't that humans
were more violent than elves, but that they lacked the finesse and elegance
elves delivered during violence. Their walls of intrigue were mere silk
curtains compared to the fine threads of deceit and schemes the elder nobility
of his court could conjure.
None of that had been his reason for despair, though… Every aspect of noble
life had both disgusted and amused him. The younger nobles were almost
human like in their occasional outbursts of blunt anger or embarrassment…
But the elders… Those who had seen lifetime upon lifetime of court activity…
They were dangerous… They could wait centuries before seeing the outcome
of one of their schemes, yet it was those hard thought plans that had brought
down entire royal families.
And he'd had many enemies before he'd left… And not just because of his
"charm", but more so because of his lineage… Born by a royal prince and
a commoner. His father's marriage to his common mother had created an uproar,
one that had nearly concluded both their lives…
There were many elves that earned their living through death and torture.
For a few nobles, it was a sport, an act of initiation within their ranks.
Nearly every male had at least one kill to his name…
But his father had handled it all with strength and wisdom, his hand tightly
wrapped around the reins of many powerful Lords and Ladies. His dear mother,
so beautiful and kind, had always amazed him. Her sweet face could so easily
turn so brutally cold— a mask that suited her well when she dealt with
those that sought to end her reign. As kind as she'd been to him, she would
allow no one to tell her she was not an equal. Many had been forced to
bow down before her sharp tongue…
It had taken ten years, but his father and mother had forced the entire
court to bow before him and his Queen. He was King, she was Queen, and
they were to be treated as such…
And when he'd been born…
That was the trouble with elves… His father had used his own power to control
his court… His mother had used hers to gain respect and loyalty… Neither
had helped the other… and neither helped him.
The fact was that elves saw the open assistance of one to another as a
weakness. It proved that the one being assisted could not handle the problem
and in matters of respect, it had to be earned by only that person alone.
If his parents had offered a helping hand they would have effectively signed
his death warrant. The court would not allow a weak prince to ascend the
throne.
So, Duo's childhood had been one of learning to dodge the traps before
him. As he'd grown older, masks had to be formed… Acts of cruelty endured
with a nonchalant air for the sadistic nobles who sought his presence at
such barbarian acts were the same that could destroy him. He could show
no weakness.
And when he'd reached adulthood, the duels had begun… Endless dances of
steel and magicks… He'd earned more than his fill of scars… And the whispers
had started, gaining him the very nickname he'd given Sally.
The title of God of Death had been written in the blood of fools…
And then… Everything had shattered. His mother had died… Just died… No
hints of murder or intrigue, just a quiet death within her chambers…
A week later, his things were packed and he was gone… He'd looked upon
his father one last time, staring at that wise strong man who suddenly
seemed so old without his Queen beside him… He'd faced him, said goodbye,
and left…
Duo had wanted to return, had wanted to one day tell his father he was
sorry he'd left so soon after her death… Explain that he'd been too young…
Prove to him that he was capable enough to accept the fate set before him…
But he'd been too slow, too deeply involved in the humans and their disputes
to realize that HIS kind, HIS family had needed him… Too slow to be there
when his father had passed on, too late to say all the things he'd so carefully
planned within his mind.
So, as he stepped into the water that would pull him into the world he'd
left so long ago, Duo found himself turning away… Glancing behind him to
stare at the forest and fields, listening to a cold wind that nipped and
seemed to carry echoes of laughter and tears, tasting the snow that would
soon cover this entire area… One last glance at the human world that had
seemed so strange, yet so comforting…
One last glance…
And he disappeared.
*
There was a distinct difference between the realms of Sadists and Dwarves.
Caverns of inky darkness and tantalizing shadows that beckoned with fiery
eyes were the surroundings of the Sadists, a world that symbolized the
cruel, dark souls they claimed to have. And where they took refuge in the
twisted night, the dwarves's realm was an arena of rainbow lights. The
walls shining pearl white, gems of various colors and sizes embedded into
their remarkably smooth surfaces.
The contrast between the two would've allowed the trio to recognize their
entrance into Mariemeia's realm without the awaiting guard of braided warriors.
As it was, the seven heavily armed, wary-eyed dwarven soldiers just drove
the differences to the heart of the humans.
Sally slowed her steps, eyeing the guards with a certainty that should
the shorter beings wish to kill them they could easily do so… Her snow-white
hand seemed to tense and her eyes narrowed; or perhaps the dwarf guard
would be the ones to meet their end should a fight occur… It was a frightening
thought. One she wished away with all her might, but it whispered within
her mind echoing louder the more she struggled to vanquish it.
Standing in the middle of her impressive, armor-clad guard, Mariemeia was
every inch the regal queen, her youth hidden behind a wisdom and age that
could only come with years of ruling her subjects. She was wrapped in layers
of white cloth, the material unbelievably wispy; it reminded the Healer
of air layered upon air. An elaborate crown of gold and silver wire nestled
within coils of red hair, those infinite braids looped and curled, framing
a face that seemed ageless.
The Queen was beautiful and one day would grow into a woman that Sally
was sure would be able to bewitch even males of other species… Again, the
healer could not help but notice the differences between the Queen and
her subjects. Her lithe figure and delicate features were most definitely
not dwarf traits.
"Your Majesty." Sally nodded her head, respectful but not overly so. Her
trials in the Sadist realms would not allow a disregard of her own worth…
Especially when some small part of her no longer trusted the young queen
so completely.
One thin eyebrow rose noting the change and Mariemeia's voice was polite
and formal, as she greeted the trio. "Greetings, Healer." With a gracious
nod, the young queen seemed to include all in her pointed welcome. "We
are here to both thank you and lead you. The Sadists," no amount
of royal training could keep the bitter disgust out of that one word, "have
been gracious enough to send news of your victory. The Crown and Heart
thank you, a pledge lies between our kind now. Our arm, our hammer, is
yours to command."
The words held a hint of familiarity and briefly a vision of blood-soaked
fields and mindless violence flashed through Sally's mind. Beside her,
Hilde's mouth was opening, the vague form of disagreement on her pixie-like
face.
"This isn't a time for meaningless promises." Sally's voice was strong,
almost conversational, and a bit wistful. "Or a time for broken ties."
Her eyes met the Dwarf Queen's and they were old eyes, eyes that had seen
horrors no one else could ever understand—except perhaps the Sadist Queen
who had committed them… Sally's eyes longed for innocence and for a brief
second, Mariemeia felt a stab of pity for the human before her. "This is
larger than any of us…"
It wasn't a question, but Mariemeia nodded, her own eyes answering with
a similar regret… Neither wished to send their people into war, but Sally
was right… This entire mess was larger than either of them, larger perhaps
than the Dawn and Moon.
A moment of silence passed before Sally forced a smile, "Your pledge is
gratefully acknowledged." She paused, noting the Queen's expectant face
and suddenly the Healer felt very, very tired… And irritated. "Your Majesty,
I am no lady, no noble. I am a healer. If you wish for flowery words, I
cannot give you any. I am simple and like to speak simply. And I tire of
this game of words. You, I, and Lanetta all realize what your pledge means.
As much as you and she may hide from this fact, we are but pawns—pushed
about and led to where we must be.
If you are here to lead us out then I do thank you, but I can offer nothing
else."
Silence, as the Queen's face remained the same, her eyes the only evidence
of the emotions that boiled within her. Then she smiled, just a small lift
of her lips, and Sally relaxed muscles she hadn't realized she'd tensed.
Nearby, Wufei's hand slowly left his sword's hilt.
"No more games, Healer. We'll lead you outside." She spun on heeled boots
and with a motion the dwarven guards widened their protective circle to
include the humans. "Come."
A warm hand clasped Sally's shoulder and she turned her head, meeting Hilde's
warm blue eyes. "Whatever may happen, Sally, you will always have my respect."
Sally returned her grin and glanced at the silent Wufei. His dark onyx
eyes and stern features promised questions later and her grin widened.
After all, she was only human and confusing the soldier appeared to be
an amusing feat.
Unknown to the Healer, since meeting her Wufei had become very well acquainted
with confusion.
*
No matter how entranced Quatre was by the music his fingers produced, the
loud crack of a breaking branch was enough to snap him awake. With a jerk,
his eyes opened and the music came to a sudden halt, allowing an eerie
silence to fill its place. Blonde locks of hair flew wildly, as his head
jerked right to left, trying to decipher what lay within the woods so near.
"The Mother be blessed." A familiar voice whispered and he sprung to his
feet, eyes seeking and finding the speaker.
Eyes the color of the sea met his gaze, peering from sun-kissed features
that were both beautiful and adorable, caught between that moment where
the next step leads to the world of adulthood. Honey blonde hair appeared
tangled and dirty while a torn and bloody dress clung to her lithe form.
Dirty, bruised, and bleeding there was no mistaking the Dawn. No one else
could copy that quiet dignity.
Quatre's eyes widened, as Relena stepped closer, her eyes filled with wonder
and caution. His mouth seemed dry as the possibilities nearly overwhelmed
him.
"Are you real or have I finally drifted into insanity?" The Dawn's voice
was soft, but clear and the bard blinked as the meaning of her words hit
him.
She didn't recognize him.
What to do, what to do…
If he killed her then the Moon's main threat was eliminated and peace could
finally settle upon the land… The only question was, could he kill her?
A Dawn whose power was like none he'd ever felt before. A Dawn who had
invoked the blood rage. Her power was like liquid fire, merely waiting
for a chance to wash over all that threatened it…
She took a step closer and then stopped, her eyes growing wary and bleak.
"He should have come by now, but he won't. I am lost. With a mute
illusion…" Her words were confusing, but the tone was easy to read. The
Dawn was giving up, something had caused her to lose hope and confidence
in herself, in her cause.
It was too perfect.
Where was her animal companion? The Panther that Dorothy had entrusted
the Dawn's protection in. Where was he?
The call of magick, royal magick so strong he gasped, created a wave of
desperation to crash upon the dark bard. With a yell that was too animalistic
to have come from his throat, the bard sprung—a glint of metal held in
his hands.
There was no chance to run or attack, only a hasty throw of magicks that
Relena could not control in her chaotic fear and surprise… And something…
Something familiar met her wave and pushed against it. Meeting her magicks
with a finesse and power that she had never met in any other being, but
herself.
It came from the bard, yet… It didn't… Something was terribly wrong… More
than just the crazed male that ran toward her, so close she could feel
his breath. Too late, Relena recognized the weavings of a gate… A ring…
Too late, as the cold ice of metal pressed against her skin.
*
Images flooded Trowa's mind, as shield after magical shield was torn down
by the arrival of the Spy Mistress. He remembered staring into her eyes
mere months ago and years ago… This woman had once been a girl, who he
had watched grow up alongside his Miss Bloom.
A girl that had torn him away from the only home he'd ever known and sold
him into the harsh, cruel life of slavery. A girl that had sought to protect
a friend from the grave danger he had been. A girl whom he had forgiven…
And Cathie had not.
With a harsh shove, Catherine sent the shocked Midii Une sprawling and
Lady Pluto stood, guarding her precious sibling with arms outstretched.
"Stay away, Midii! I won't let you harm him!"
The Spy Mistress was quick to pull herself to her feet, her gray eyes wild
as she stared at the two humans before her. "It's not possible. It's not
bloody possible. Stop It!" The last was yelled at the forest around them,
then it was silent and Midii began to tremble. "It can't be real."
A hint of pity and compassion shone within Catherine's eyes, but she quickly
killed it when she forced herself to remember who the quaking woman before
her was. "Trowa, let's leave. We can find another campsite." She turned,
expecting agreement…
Instead, Trowa's emerald gaze shone with something that reminded the former
lady of disappointment, "I will not leave her." He looked away from Cathie's
shocked features and toward the Spy Mistress, who seemed to be desperately
trying to draw into herself. "I have questions. She has answers."
From her vantage point, Galea continued to let off her unearthly glow,
illuminating the three humans. She dug her claws further into the tree
branch and with a smug yawn, released Midii's stolen ribbon.
Only Catherine noticed the speck of black against the dark night, her nearly
purple eyes watched as the ribbon fluttered toward the ground, landing
between her brother and former friend.
Her eyes focused on the black fabric… She didn't need her seer powers to
recognize a bad omen…
*
The wise thing to do would be to leave, to travel into the Woods or to
a nearby town… She should disguise herself and continue her search for
the Reborn Dawn, pledge her loyalty once again to that young woman she'd
watched over for so long…
Yet, Lucrezia did not move, could not move. From her position, she could
see his chambers, see the window she knew led to his bedroom… And she cursed
herself a fool, as once again she found herself watching and waiting and
hoping…
Just one more glance she would say to herself and then I will leave…
She had cried to sleep for weeks when he'd disappeared so long ago… Had
felt her heart break… Felt her first love, so young and sweet and not fully
understood, crumble the morning she'd awakened and found him gone… Heard
his name ordered from all history texts… She had watched them take the
paintings and burn them…
And she had watched her Queen, her Dawn, personally cut away his form from
the family tapestry.
It was that moment, as she'd watched her Dawn sob silently, her hands shaking
as she vainly tried to remove the image of her son from the rich fabric,
that Lucrezia realized she could not hate her Dawn… Could not hate any
of them for destroying Zechs…
Because that was how she was raised, how everyone was raised… Men were
only men, not to truly be cared for… They were pets and some could be loved
and coddled, but only in the way some would care for a beloved dog... And
pets could always be replaced...
Yet… There had been something special about Zechs… Something that had shone
through his maleness, something that had spoken of importance. He had always
seemed much more than a mere dog to her…
And he was alive.
Her dreams were plagued with confusion and doubt, his eyes and face haunting
her vision till she both despised and longed for slumber. Her mind and
body ached, the despair of what her childhood friend had become warring
with the joy that he still lived. It was a cruel twist of fate that she
no longer had the humor for… Crueler in the fact that she knew he had to
be stopped…
She had seen his victims, seen what he'd reduced the Galaxy Court to… Its
once festive citizens, so proud of their glorious city, which had rivaled
the Dawn's Court, had been reduced to gray-enshrouded figures that huddled
in corners, scuttling here and there. The taverns were the only places
of business, yet it was a dreary business, where the patrons sat and stared
at the their drinks more than they drank them.
And in the shadows, Lucrezia watched the palace where he rested and planned…
Plans that had torn everything she'd ever known into pieces… Plans that
had destroyed her home, leaving only broken fragments of the once glorious
vision that had been the Dawn's Capitol.
How could the boy who'd captivated her heart be the same that had torn
it in two?
Till she understood, Lucrezia could not leave him… Till she understood
herself, she had to stay…
She had to.
*
Dorothy had never considered herself a coward, she'd never seen a situation
or person she could not face with dignity and pride… But that same clear
sightedness and understanding of her persona was what allowed her to realize
if it wasn't for Nattie's hand wrapped tightly around her arm, there was
a very real chance she could panic. The tug and pull of the water, its
light yet firm caresses across her skin, forced her eyes closed and her
body tense. Tales of bloated bodies and lost sailors flashed through her
mind with such intensity that she could feel the water creeping into her
mouth, filling her lungs…
She gasped, suddenly realizing that all her silly fancies of Duo being
by her side were useless since he wasn't there. She was going to drown.
She was going to die. The water would swallow her whole and no one would
ever know and---
"Dorothy! Dorothy! We be on land! Open yer eyes!"
The sorceress's eyes snapped open; Nattie's callused hands rough against
her trembling flesh. Beads of water flowed down her face, her now wet braid
slapping against her back, as she jerked away from the warrior-woman. She
stared at the ground beneath her feet, sand so white it nearly blinded.
Her body shook, as she took in one breath after another, ignoring the commotion
around her.
'Breathe, Dorothy. Breathe.'
"The Prince has returned! All Hail His Highness!" The shout was close and
Dorothy slowly raised her head, her features composed as her breathing
regained a sense of normalcy.
Her first sight of Elysia…
The shards of terror pressing against her heart faded into nothingness,
as her eyes drank in the sight of Duo's homeland. No bard could ever fully
describe the sheer wonder of the place around her…
The buildings did not fit into the reality of her world; they twisted and
twirled around one another, reaching for the sky like giant oaks. Towers
and staircases spiraled outward, the architecture flowing into one another,
and with every new joining a new structure was formed. It was a catacomb
that seemed to float in the air with bridges connecting the buildings.
It was a network of artistry that with every glance brought a new discovery.
Such as the carvings that were so detailed she could see the fine lines
of hair in one creation. It was intensely otherworldly, almost alien in
its precarious design and colors. White upon gold for the bridges, their
railings as bright as the sun, and the buildings seemed an array of wildness…
At first glance. But after awhile, one could see a certain pattern to the
vivid greens and browns and blues… Every color represented some aspect
of the elements, patterned in a way that each elemental color was near
its opposite element…
What appeared wild and alien was almost more an intellectual puzzle, actually
more composed and regulated than the Dawn's Court.
Such observation took mere seconds for the sorceress, the familiarity of
observing and deciphering forcing any last remnants of fear fleeing. With
an arched, and somewhat wet eyebrow, Dorothy slowly turned her head, focusing
her attention now on the crowd gathering around the small group.
"ALL HAIL HIS HIGHNESS, PRINCE MAXWELL!"
Another twitch of her eyebrow, as Duo's title was shouted with the force
of a hundred lungs. 'Overjoyed to see their King-to-be or showing him he'll
only be their Prince? Something doesn't feel right…' The sorceress ran
an eye over the crowd, somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer number. Three
elves were one thing, but there was something deliciously intoxicating
to be surrounded by so many of the beautiful, exotic beings…
Which only reminded her to keep her features composed, arrogance would
get her along better than reverence. She was, after all, one of them… Her
blood tainted by their magicks… She could not allow them to see her as
anything but an equal… Especially if any of them held similar attitudes
as the Lady had held upon their first encounter.
She turned her gaze toward the man who commanded the attention of the voices
and briefly Duo's violet gaze met hers. There was something almost sad
within their depths and something that spoke of a struggle within his very
soul… Then they seemed to ice over, the gold flashing with a force of danger
she had never encountered within the usually annoying, grinning elf…
And it was a clear warning for the sorceress. He had a part to play within
in this land, a mask that hid the man she'd come to know… They would all
have parts to play in the days to come.
She turned away, ignoring the pointedly curious and condescending glances
being sent her way by the Elysian crowd. A few merely sniffed, casting
disgusted looks both her and Nattie's way. Dorothy grazed a cool gaze upon
the entire body, her focus on the contingent of men the crowd was parting
for. Men dressed in glittering armor, thinner and more delicate-looking
than any she had ever seen. It almost appeared more decoration than protection,
but it was clear the force was thought to be both dangerous and respected.
The force, a dozen elves, stopped mere feet from the group, their attention
only on their returned Prince. "If you will allow us, we shall escort His
Highness to Elysium." The Captain, his ranking only guessed by Dorothy,
raised his arm toward the sky once before slamming his fist against the
metal over his heart. One knee bent, allowing him to fall in a bow that
seemed more dance than any courtly gesture seen within the Dawn Lands.
Duo eyed the man, forcing him to hold the strange bow, the Captain's left
knee mere inches from the ground. It seemed painful to Dorothy's eyes,
a ridiculous gesture with little meaning but to punish or reward. If displeased,
a lord could probably force a servant to stay that way for hours… And as
the seconds passed, Dorothy pondered the reasons why Duo felt the need
to flaunt his power.
Her eyes narrowed the barest fraction, her body tense but outwardly relaxed
and at ease with the situation at hand. Not all was right in paradise…
And as the seconds turned into minutes and silence reigned over the now
watching crowd, Dorothy could not help but wonder… Duo had a part to play
in this land, but did that mean it was a mask… How could she know if the
Duo Maxwell she had come to know was merely another part or the true him…
How much did she know about the Elysian who had somehow earned so much
feeling from her?
Something just wasn't right…
*
The crack and snap of breaking limbs came easily to Heero's enhanced hearing,
his eyes watching the path Relena had so recklessly created. He could have
followed her wild footsteps without his panther lineage. Stupid girl. Idiot
girl. Typical human.
How could humans hold so much power? How could they have changed him into
this thing and also be his only chance of returning to normal? It
was an irony that he couldn't understand… How could such useless, selfish
creatures hold so much power? The Higher Beings held a sense of humor he
could not appreciate…
Heero snarled, turning away from the path she had created. His fingers
were curved, a mockery of the claws he'd once possessed, and his form was
tense and still, nearly vibrating with the control it took not to plunge
into the undergrowth… For escape or her, he wasn't sure. Emotions filled
his mind and body… And he growled, baring his teeth at the woods, wanting
an escape from the feelings that a panther should never have…
"Tsk, tsk… I didn't realize panthers had temper tantrums." That voice,
old and weathered, so full of amusement… His form twisted and he faced
the wrinkled elder, her eyes twinkling up at him with a venomous wisdom…
Something ancient and wise and dangerous.
"What are you?" Each word almost too guttural to understand, his teeth
bared more fully, as a strange scent filled his nose, filled his head,
until the world felt hazy and dull and there was only the old woman standing
before him… Something familiar… And everything faded into nothingness,
as Heero's eyes widened and his feet began to carry him backwards, away
from the Crone and the strange scent that surrounded her… Strange and familiar
and powerful.
"It's too late for that, man-beast." There was no flash of light, no grand
magical transformation… One minute the crone stood before him and next
a young woman, as natural as the sun or moon… She was just there,
a figure cloaked in light and dark, her eyes and features never the same
the second time he looked… Always changing, always different, always great…
"You."
He could remember seeing her so long ago, her form more beautiful than
any he'd ever witnessed… And more terrible… A figure that embodied everything
pure and evil, everything human and wild, and yet was none of those things.
She
was all and none, protector and destroyer… She was the Goddess of
All, the Mother of Creation and Destruction.
"How you've grown so little from the angry, fearful creature I once saw.
These years have changed you little, if at all. You foolish beast." Her
voice reminded him of the wind, calm yet with a hint of strength… A strong
wind could destroy a village in seconds; She held that kind of authority.
But her words stung and Heero's stoic resolve began to return as his eyes
narrowed slightly as he watched the Goddess before him. "Why are you here?
You are not my god."
Her features hardened, the soft almost loving amusement fading into something
harsh and ancient. "You. Will. Not. Play. Your. Games. With. Me."
She
seemed to tower over him, power surrounding her form, as her words tumbled
into his ears, grating like jagged glass. The Panther's hands ached to
cover them, but pure will and stubbornness kept them at his side, his jaw
clenched as he waited for the onslaught to end.
And it did, as suddenly as it had fallen upon him. She merely smiled,
the image of power and terror reverting to a form of motherly devotion,
"Poor dear, so strong yet so weak… So full of anger and fear, so many emotions
that you cannot choose which to let free. That is a worse mask than any—not
a lack of feeling, but a surplus. Poor child…" She shook her head,
tsking slightly to herself, "But you have brought this upon yourself, child-beast…
Your pride, your anger, your shame—all brought upon yourself. No one else
has cast these things your way, only your own tortured mind. A mind so
confused that you force yourself to believe such dark things."
He didn't respond, but merely glowered, resolutely staying silent… And
She
laughed, a sound of bells and song and children, amusement dancing in her
vivid eyes—eyes that seemed deeper than the ocean or sky, holding eons
of time that not even he could comprehend.
"You do not understand. But how could you? How could you understand the
harm you place upon yourself by not merely accepting the inevitable, by
seeing the whole picture instead of the pieces. You believe so much in
your cure, your salvation that you cannot see that the truest redemption
lies close enough to touch, to taste, to feel…"
"The Dawn." Heero met her gaze, fighting the urge to look away, to look
anywhere than in those endless eyes… "She holds my salvation. She is my
cure."
A smile graced her lips, "Yes and no, child-beast." She turned away,
her eyes drifting toward the path Relena had taken only seconds ago. Her
features seemed to shift, till a ghost of sad blue eyes and honey-blonde
hair waved around a face that would one day be beautiful, but already held
an elegant grace… Relena…
"Heero…" Her lips, Relena's lips, moving, calling, speaking what he held
so dear, so secret… His tie to a life he longed to return to…
"A name holds power, little one. Every name, no matter how insignificant,
holds the essence of life for every creature on this earth. There is power
in a name, a power that can be twisted to good or evil… And a vulnerability…
Your kind have always held their secrets, you more so than any. A weakness
of your own creation; it is your secrets that are you gravest weakness."
She
paused, one elegant hand held before her, as if reaching out toward some
unseen phantom.
A dry tongue ran across his lips, his own eyes once again turned toward
the wild path the Dawn had created. "What do you mean?"
Her smile seemed to mock now, no longer the devoted mother, "In the beginning,
we created one species, one race. It was the magick, the earth's and ours
and yours that created what now roams this world. Do you not understand,
child-beast? Every race upon this world was once one. It was only through
eons of fate and magick, of prophecy and need that changed one into ten
into hundreds into thousands."
Suddenly, her smile faded and something akin to sadness enshrouded her
features. The Goddess sighed, her hand dropping to her side, "You are surprised,
shocked, but still you do not see. The humans, do they fear their names?
Fear the power they hold? No. They do not fear because there is naught
to fear." Her fiery eyes were on him, "Only belief can give fear life,
only faith. You have more faith in the old ways, so much that you have
lost sight of your purpose."
"My purpose." The words were bitter, but the Mother merely nodded, ignoring
the emotions flashing within his Prussian eyes.
"A race that was once one is now many. A man that was once a panther is
both. Your belief in the old ways has been lost to the humans; they fear
not the power of names, but only themselves. Human and beast. Two that
is one. You fear what you do not fear, understand what you cannot decipher,
are one that is two. Protector and guide. Do you understand your truest
mission? A mission that is not a mission, but your salvation."
"Immortals speak in riddles," Heero snarled. "You make no sense, Goddess."
She smiled, mischief gleaming in her eyes, "But you will remember,
won't you? A race that was one is now many. A beast that is a man and a
man that is a beast, two that is one. Protector and guide, who fears what
he knows not to fear. You are the reversal and she holds the key to that
path. What good do you do to fear her allowance? Her, whom protects and
guides, as much as you."
"To reach the end, you must unlock the first door. Break your fears, gather
them anew, and rebuild. Can you do that, man-beast? My little one, dear
creature, child-beast, son of woods and village, murderer and savior, lover
and destroyer… Can you?"
No answer reached her immortal ears and She looked toward the woods
once more, her eyes unreadable. " A stolen key can open doors for an enemy,
as well… I would run, little one."
And then he was alone… Except for the shrill, feminine scream echoing within
his ears… And then the sound of his pounding footsteps, as he rushed forward.
*
The morning sun was rising, gently brushing its rays across her face, when
her eyes fluttered open. One arm stretched out, caressing the feel of silk
and satin, but longing for something else… Something greater than the mere
feel of fabric. She wanted him.
Une twisted around, pushing the sheets away, as her eyes came into contact
with his elegant form. He stood near the window, one hand pushing aside
the drapery while his gaze now rested upon her lying form. The curve of
a bare shoulder, the tilt of her neck, the barest glimpse of her pale bosom
called him away from the view below and so he dropped the curtain and gracefully
knelt beside the bed.
It had been her eyes, those brown orbs of life and soul, that had caught
his attention so many years ago. Watching her command, teach, fight—it
had been her eyes that had lived each action that held so much authority
yet such incredible vulnerability… He had had to know who she was…
Even after so many years, those eyes could still hold him riveted…
"I missed you." His voice always reminded Une of velvet, matching his elegant
features and stature. Locks of brown hair, usually brushed back, fell across
his face and she gently brushed them aside. His gaze was calm, yet passionate
and Une placed her hand against his cheek, slowly smiling up at him.
"I so badly wanted to return to you…" Her voice was low, not wishing to
break the dreamlike haze that seemed to surround them. "Every night I thought
of you—."
"Dreamed of you… My dear sweet Lady." A soft, chaste kiss grazed the palm
of her hand before he leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers.
"Treize…"
Une's eyes fluttered close, but a knock forced them open as her husband
pulled away. Treize smiled down at her once before disappearing from view,
the sound of voices soon flowing from the adjoined sitting room to where
she now sat.
Sighing, Une slowly stood, the sheets forgotten as she made her way to
the window. Her form seemed to glisten in the light, a being of unearthly
beauty—a creature of light and air and earth… Her brown hair swayed against
her skin, as she pushed the drapery back, looking upon what had held her
husband's attention earlier…
Beneath her the ocean appeared calm while the mainland of Elysia was a
golden mass of activity…
A soft smile lit up her features, as she realized what caused the flurry
far below. The Prince had returned and now it was time to make him a King.
Their one and only King had returned. Long live the King.
*
The ocean was more vast than anything she had ever led eyes on, a swirling
mass of blue and white waves just beckoning her. Its massive weight slamming
against the rocks below, crashing and bellowing her name with every crash.
It was so blue… As blue as her unborn child's eyes, as blue as the bard's
soulless gaze… As blue as the sky.
She felt like she was looking into the sky… Except she could fall into
this one and drown, her mouth and lungs filling with that blue, salty liquid.
Like paint it would coat her lungs, stick to her tongue and the taste would
always remain. She'd never escape it… A sea of tears all locked inside
of her and she would drown, forever lost.
Her bare feet slid forward, one foot after the other, inching closer and
closer toward the ledge overlooking the glistening sky of tears. She didn't
want to move; she didn't want to get closer toward the pounding water beneath
her… But it called to her, whispering and yelling her name with every beat.
It was a living entity, a being as ancient as the earth and sky…
Who was she not to answer?
Dorothy awoke with a strangled scream, her eyes rolling wildly as she tried
to escape the prison of her own mind. Her fingers were tangled painfully
in the sheets of her bed, dots of blood staining the golden fabric. Her
frantic struggle against the ocean's call had torn a nail off, but the
pain was distant… The call still echoing within her ears, as the sorceress
slowly began to awake to her surroundings.
One hand shook, as it wiped sweat off her brow, her lids shielding her
eyes from the grand glory of her chambers… The blackness was comforting,
more comforting than the sight of her trembling limbs… She covered her
face with her hands, leaning back against the ornate headboard, its dark
twisting metal biting into her flesh. Like the blackness, the cold metal
was another comfort… Something to drag her attention away from the nightmares
her mind took pleasure in feeding her…
"My lady."
The trembling hand halted its movement, the sorceress's body stiffening
at the intrusion of another being into her world of darkness… Her eyes
slowly opened into a suspicious glare, revealing the form of her appointed
chambermaid, Lilian Grenwod. Dorothy's screams had very likely reached
the ears of the Elysian maiden whose own room lay only a door away.
That realization did nothing to help the sorceress, as her dream fears
were pushed aside by the danger of reality. To look weak was that last
thing she needed and now… Her foolish fancies could create danger for not
only herself, but Relena's cause… And Lilian had so far proved to be every
bit the proud, disapproving Elysian.
Since being appointed to serve her, Lilian had shone a distinct dissatisfaction
with Dorothy and her obvious human roots. She felt it beneath her to follow
the whims of a half-breed when she was one of the high-ranking servants
of the court. She had been the Queen's own Head Chambermaid before her
majesty's death… Yet, she took her occupation very seriously and would
follow through as a good servant should.
All of this, Lilian had sternly addressed the sorceress with upon the first
meeting and she had followed it through the past four nights… But now…
"Your breakfast is to be served, if you wish."
Dorothy raised an eyebrow, as the petite woman began to set the preparation
of food beside her bed, carefully positioning the silverware as if she
had not been obviously pulled from her own sleep by the sounds of screaming.
The sorceress watched the woman carefully, ready for any action that might
show the Elysian's true thoughts and feelings but the woman seemed made
of marble.
"Is there anything else you would like before I begin the preparation of
your dressing, my lady?" Lilian demurely kept her gaze on the ground, as
she faced Dorothy, her posture all respect but her tone was strict and
stern. It reminded Dorothy of old tutors she'd had during her childhood…
And of her mother…
"No, that will be all, Lilian. You may go."
"Of course, my lady." As she raised her eyes from the marbled floor, Dorothy
thought she caught the hint of some emotion flickering within the older
woman's gaze… But the servant was gone too quick for her to try and understand
it.
Silence filled the large chamber, once she had left… Dorothy continued
to lean against the headboard, her eyes staring at the golden sheets that
adorned the large mattress, matching the gold streaks that ran through
the cold white marble of her floors and walls… Columns of black stood in
the corners, gold fabric draped around their berths… It was a cold room,
meant to inflict a sense of serious grandeur in those that rested here…
It suited her for the moment.
She shoved the sheets away and stood, her feet silently crossing the floor,
as the silk of her loaned nightgown caressed her legs with each step. The
sensations, however, were lost on the sorceress as her mind was focused
inward this morning…
The dreams bothered her… Since coming to this accursed place, they had
begun to haunt her sleep, forcing her awake only to drift once again into
that blue terror… And it was not only the fear of water that caused her
trepidation, but something else, something more… No matter how much she
feared the ocean, she feared what may lay behind its waves even more… Something
called to her from its dark depths. Something was coming… Or had come…
And then there was Elysia… Since their arrival, Dorothy had felt something
not quite right in the ranks of nobility… Her observation of the court
had only proved this… Dark plots and schemes were at work, a network of
spies and danger was closely rooted within the walls of Elysium—the court
was secretly divided.
But that was almost known by all, but the simplest of peasantry… Not everyone
wished for Duo to take the throne and become the rightful ruler of Elysia.
His mother's common ancestry was being put into inspection and there were
whisperings that perhaps a more fit ruler should be found… And that would
not do. It was Duo that had sworn to help Relena, not some new noble Elysian.
Duo had to take the throne or there would be no great elven army to help
the Dawn.
Duo had to become King, but Dorothy could not help him… The Elysians were
a different race, a different culture, and though she knew herself well
trained in the arts of intrigue, she was not one of them. There were a
thousand ways to say something without saying a word and she understood
not one. Their mannerisms were so calculated, so timed that one had to
have been brought up in this world to know what to look for… And she was
not one of them.
So, she could merely observe and rely on her inner abilities to capture
any useful information…
Not that she could inform Duo of anything… Since their arrival she had
seen him afar only… They had spoken only once and that had been upon setting
foot into the Web…
"Dorothy," Duo's voice was close, his breath warm against the back of neck
as they walked within the protective circle of Elysian guards. He spoke
in a low whisper, not wishing for others to hear the words he had to speak.
"When we arrive at Elysium, we will be separated. You must remain observant
and careful. Be extremely cautious. I will try to speak to you, explain
things, but if I cannot I will send someone. Do not trust them, but do
listen. Trust no one within these lands, but myself, Solo, and Une." He
paused, his breath almost painfully hot, before his next words came out
in a rush, "Be extremely careful, Dorothy. There are dangers ahead, dangerous
people. No matter what happens, see to your safety. You must, Dorothy!"
Then he was gone, storming forward to speak with the Captain… And to lead
them all to the Web.
Unconsciously, Dorothy rubbed a hand against her neck where his breath
had played across the sensitive skin. It helped her somewhat to know that
he also seemed to already realize the danger within the court… But it also
brought new worries and frustrations…
Who was Duo Maxwell? The King of Elysia, a true Elysian noble—a creature
as beautiful and wondrous, as it was dangerous or the wild ruffian of mischief
that had traveled alongside her—a man that had seemed more human than herself…
She had a feeling that he was one of those dangerous people she needed
to be careful around…
*
Breakfast
was left undisturbed, eliciting a sound of disapproval from Lilian upon
her return. He arms were laden with fabric, the fashion of the Elysians
consisted of various overlaying fabrics, creating the illusion of ghostly,
ethereal beauty. Fortunately, the Elysian cloth was of a thinner variety
than the Dawn Land's, a fact that made the sorceress very glad, for if
the fabric was of ordinary quality she feared she'd have collapsed from
heat.
"My lady, you should eat." The load of clothing was carefully deposited
upon the bed, Lilian's hands carefully separating the fabrics. Their thin
quality came at a price, it was drastically fragile, forcing Dorothy to
walk with extreme caution for fear of tearing the gossamer overlaying.
The sorceress remained silent, her attention barely registering the chambermaid.
Her gaze remained riveted by the water so far below and the island that
seemed to float upon it, like the very clouds floating nearby the strange
sky-castle.
"My lady."
She could feel… Feel it calling to her, speaking her name… Beckoning her
closer and closer, into its unknown depths. Something loomed beneath the
waves, something darker than anything she'd ever felt before. It was ancient
and wild and—
It SCREAMED.
Dorothy flung herself backwards, slamming against the hard stone floor,
her eyes wide as the last call still rang within her ears. Something warm
slid down her face, while a cold hilt slid into her hand. The dagger throbbed
against her hand, its magicks reacting to something...
"My lady!" And there was Lilian, helping the sorceress to her feet, the
elf woman's hands cold, cold against Dorothy's now feverish flesh. "You
must be careful. You should have eaten, hunger is affecting your balance."
Wariness shone within the maid's strange, cat-like eyes, concern-lacking
in her voice as she spoke. She seemed to be commanding Dorothy, trying
to force the words upon the sorceress… A clear warning, for the Elysian's
eyes were now also focused on the view far below them.
"I'm fine, Lilian." Dorothy pulled away from the elf's powerful grip, her
right hand gripping the dagger's hilt, trying to seek comfort from the
familiar weapon… But it was a cold comfort and still the scream seemed
to cling to her mind, a sound too raw and wild and savage to be human…
A sound that had pierced through Dorothy's mind like metal.
"You bleed, my lady." The maid's voice was accusatory, as she placed a
soft handkerchief against Dorothy's face, her hand gentler than her tone.
"One must be cautious here, especially one not used to the way of life
we live." She handed the red-stained cloth to the sorceress, turning away
to once again address attention upon the layers of cloth that would soon
be draped over Dorothy's form.
The sorceress watched the Elysian maid, her features unreadable before
turning toward the window once again. She fingered the napkin, staring
at the blood before slowly reaching one hand toward her face… She was bleeding.
A familiar wound… Dorothy calmly wiped the thin stream still sliding down
her face, pressing the makeshift bandage to her left ear to stop the flow…Her
gaze focused on the ocean view so far away, but her mind traveled down
old paths… And the ocean remained cool and calm and so blue beneath her…
As blue as the bard's soulless gaze…
*
"The
greatest power of the human mind is its ability to adapt, that gift is
the reason we are the dominant species on this planet. There are creatures,
beings whose very life force can enthrall, hypnotize. Beings that live
on the very blood that runs through our veins and their strength is far
greater than anything we could throw at them. But our nature to adapt to
the changes around us allows us to see the value of change—we can see the
future because of our mortality… And we must adapt to live out that future."
"What does that have to do with Trowa?" Catherine's voice was bitter, cutting
through the monotonous lecture that Midii had begun. The Spy-Mistress winced
at the tone, her eyes once again fading into an unfocused gray and Trowa
quickly gripped the woman's arm, forcing her to see him instead of the
shadows of her haunted past.
Once he was sure that Midii was seeing him, he turned toward his sister,
her form clear in the dawning light as she leaned sulkily against a nearby
redwood. The strange creature, that seemed to be accompanying the Spy,
lied at her feet, batting playfully at the black ribbon Catherine angrily
waved over its head.
"I know you do not like this, Cathie, but I'm asking you to try and understand.
I need to know."
"Trowa…" Catherine's eyes softened, her face a vision of sorrow before
turning away from the two. Her voice was a soft whisper, "Alright… I'll
try."
"Thank you." His emerald gaze reverted back to the outwardly calm Spy Mistress,
her face and body reflecting an emotionless façade that he knew
well. "Go on."
Her gray eyes reminded him of a doll's, reflecting everything around her
but giving no clear vision of herself. It was as if the soul had fled,
leaving this empty shell behind… It was amazing what sorrow could do to
such a powerful person. But the puppet could still speak and for now that
was all he asked of her.
"The spells placed around Trowa's mind were illusions, so finely woven
that one wrong twist could have incinerated his entire mind, leaving only
a husk behind. These illusions were placed over his true memories, connected
and interwoven to a degree where he could no longer decipher fantasy from
reality. And the false memories were not merely left to their own devices.
Every week they were renewed, as he slept, till they became more clear
than the faint memories of his true reality… And when he awoke, he was
forced to live the life they had programmed him with. The human mind cannot
accept two realities, so it chooses… And naturally, it will choose the
one that confronts it from all angles. Thus, his memories of what was true
faded away, to live and survive he had to accept the new fate before him."
Her voice seemed to grow softer with each word, as if her strength faded
with ever syllable till the last word was merely a haunting whisper. Trowa
wanted to ignore the pain it caused her to speak, force himself to face
the monster he could become, but at the very thought a vision of the Moon
and his wild ideals threw the idea aside. To ignore the suffering of women,
especially this woman, would bring him to a level of insanity and hatred
that would lead to the corruption of not only himself, but those near him…
Quatre was proof of that.
So instead of pressing for more, Trowa stood and lifted the small sack
of supplies that he and Cathie possessed and removed the canteen of water
from among its contents. Kneeling beside the Spy, he offered her the water
in silence, staying that way till she slowly raised her eyes toward his.
Something flickered within those lifeless eyes, then her hand took the
flask and her face turned away, lifting the canteen to her lips. Lying
the sack aside, Trowa stood, leaving Midii to her own thoughts.
"Emeralds."
Trowa halted in mid-step, facing the woman as her voice rang through the
clearing. To his right, Catherine winced at the sound of Midii's voice
so loud and clear.
Midii's eyes remained locked on the flask, a light flickering beneath their
haunted gray haze. "Your eyes remind me of emeralds… Always have… I could
never wear emeralds or touch emeralds or see emeralds without thinking
of you… Always feeling so… Emeralds were my reminder of guilt… Always reminding…"
"You should feel guilt! You should be reminded of that you did! You stole
his life away! You deserve—!"
"Catherine!" Trowa's voice was harsh and stern, his eyes narrowed as he
scowled at the angry Lady.
Her angry tirade came to a halt, but it was already too late… Any life
that had begun to reappear within the Spy had once again faded, her eyes
again dark and soulless… A doll once again.
Watching that spark slowly die created an emotion within Trowa's chest,
filling his being with its poisonous claws… And with that clear-cut anger
and grief running through his veins, Trowa did something that he rarely
did…
He showed anger.
"Damn it!" The former acrobat ignored the stinging pain cutting through
his now bloody fist, ignored Catherine's gasp as he stormed away from the
now red-stained tree, ignored the catriffin that seemed to watch him with
eyes too full of intelligence… And he ignored the huddled figure with haunting
gray eyes.
He ignored them all, as he left the clearing—seeking some form of peace
since his life had been torn apart.
*
Sunlight
was a glorious thing to the trio, as they stepped away from the dark realm
of dwarves and sadists. It seemed years had past beneath the solid earth,
surrounded at all sides by stone. A smile of relief spread across Sally's
features, as they took in the view of sky and towering evergreens. She
paused outside the entrance, relishing the feel of the light across her
face—the clear, crisp smell of earth and sky and life.
Nearby, Hilde had already entered the woods, her petite form kneeling so
she could sink her fingers into the earth. At the movement, a glint of
sunlight caught on the weapon hanging from the blood warrior's belt… And
joy fled from Sally, as the harsh reality of what they still faced struck
home.
Their dwarf companions had left them at the lake Wufei and Sally had found
upon their first entrance of the caves, but they had not left the humans
completely… As a symbol of the promise between their two groups, Mariemeia
had gifted the trio with an axe, forged by great dwarf smiths… The Queen's
own magick had been used to bring the weapon into being and now it hung
at Hilde's waist…
The axe was a superb weapon, as deadly as it was beautiful. Unlike most
weapons of its kind, its handle and head were whole, no break separating
the two sections. It was a solid mass of lightweight, yet deadly silver,
and etched along its side were markings that Sally could not decipher,
but Hilde assured were safe. Yet, no matter how much the blood warrior
tried to ease the healer's worries, the weapon still made Sally wary; dwarf
weapons had a tendency to create chaos toward their owners as well as adversaries.
She had been reluctant to even take the offering, but Hilde's easy acceptance
of being the bearer had made the weapon easier to behold.
It hadn't surprised Hilde when Sally had offered her and Wufei the weapon
once their dwarf companions were far behind. After all, Sally didn't know
how to use a weapon nor would she want to know how. Her experience with
violence in the Sadist realm had been enough to abolish any cravings she
might have had for physical fighting. A fact which Hilde accepted with
something of relief… If Wufei had been completely honest, and she had no
reason to believe he hadn't, then the strange Glove the healer now wore
could become a great and horrible weapon.
Hilde trusted the Healer, but a small part of her looked upon that white
flesh with worry… Such a power reminded her too much of the ancient tales
of blood rage… Humans should not be capable of such destruction or salvation;
she understood that perhaps better than any, having been born with her
inner abilities. She had seen horrible things come from humans that could
not control their gifts or were merely overpowered by their emotions. Even
good people could become monsters…
But for now, the blood warrior pushed aside such worries… They had a more
pressing one at the moment.
With a grace unsuited to a human, Hilde stood, dirt falling from her fingers
as she turned to face the other two. Wufei's serious visage met her gaze
first, his eyes holding an understanding for what she was about to state.
He nodded once before moving away to their left, scouting for any hidden
traps or enemies.
"Sally, we have to move… And quickly."
The Healer slowly met her gaze, "You're afraid that bard might have sent
men?"
Hilde grinned, showing too much teeth, "There's that, but the real reason
is a storm's brewing. Winter is setting in and it'll be on us quick if
we don't hurry." She moved, as she spoke, pulling on a pair of dark leather
gloves, relishing the heavy, dark brown tunic that draped her upper body.
Sally wasn't the only to receive gifts from the Sadists… Both Wufei and
Hilde had been forced to accept clothing more appropriate for the changing
season, a fact which the blood warrior now took gratitude in.
"A storm? But the sky…" A motion toward the clear blue sky followed Sally's
confused words.
A quick stomp to the ground revealed hard earth, the soil nearly frozen
solid, "There's a storm coming, Sally, you just have to know what signs
to look for." Hilde stomped again, "And this is one of them… The earth
is readying for winter and the sky—you have to know how to read its patterns.
Trust us, we have to move… Try and find a village or something…"
With that she began to move, following after the path Wufei had earlier
taken. Sally followed, her eyes darting to the ground to the sky, trying
to see whatever the two fighters saw. Giving up, the healer finally sighed
and merely set into pace with Hilde. "How long do we have?"
"A day or two, if we're lucky maybe three… But I doubt it."
"Is it a bad storm?"
Hilde smiled, "No, not too bad. Maybe a bit of snow and ice, it'll only
stick in certain parts of the woods. The main problem is the cold. That's
what kills… If we can find a good clearing with a bit of shelter and enough
wood to build an adequate fire, we'll be fine… But we can't stay here."
"But the cavern, couldn't we wait it out?"
"It won't strike for another day or two. If we stayed, we'd be wasting
time and daylight. It's better to move and hopefully reach a civilization
or merely more woods than to stay where we're sitting ducks for any guards
that might be searching for us and where the storm will most likely hit
first. If we're real lucky, we might even beat the snow and ice and just
face a bit of cold if we move fast enough."
As if to mock her words, a sharp breeze of cold wind slapped the two woman…
Sally shivered, as she wrapped her arms around herself while Hilde laughed,
a large grin painted across her lips. "Maybe not on that last one."
Sally sighed, looking around as she did; "Mother, I hate winter!"
*
Death was like fire and ice all rolled into one, a swirling mass of chaos
that pulled at her skin till it was gone and she was just left behind…
Her skin and bones and all those human things were just tossed aside and
there was just light and dark and pain and eternity. Just a being of pure
something, something that surpassed words… but it had a word… Just a pure
soul. Soul… That hidden part of her that made her who she was… Underneath
all that armor of flesh…
Released it floated and flowed and danced…
And it was all pure light, just pure joy all rolled into a fiery gleam
that seared—but it was good to be burned by such a lovely flame.
But the darkness loomed, it loomed and it scared her and it hurt her with
its ice that stabbed, stabbed… Always stabbing into her soul, her very
being… Like knives it'd cut through the searing joy of light, tear at her
till piece by piece she began to break apart. Break apart like a puzzle,
till she wasn't her anymore but something else—just a lost piece that couldn't
be put back together… All broken up with pain and death and destruction
and, Mother, it hurt.
But the flame, the light, it'd grow and try to fend the ice off—grow and
grow till everything was light and fire and the whole world just glowed—but
the ice was still there, growing with the fire… And the fire could hurt
with its blinding waves of purity, that seared into her—trying to cleanse
her till it hurt like the ice—till she could feel her being snap and tear
because the ice and fire were just too much… Both using her to try and
destroy the other… Both killing her.
And something tore away, a piece of her floating into the abyss of death
and chaos—and her soul just screamed, could only scream—her entire being
radiating with that one last cry of loss…
Quatre
lunged backwards, as the Dawn's unconscious form twisted and writhed before
him, the fire of her magicks playing across her skin from where the collar's
magicks had turned her attack against her. That silver metal glittered
against her neck, shining as it forced the Dawn's magicks back… It shined
and shined and Quatre could merely stand there, panting as his eyes began
to hurt from staring at the band.
His body ached from the use of such strong magicks running through him,
even still Millardo had him gripped tightly within his ring. And the Moon's
voice echoed within his mind…
Send her to me. Send her. Send her. Send her. Send her.
And
that hurt with its intensity… Gods, he was so tired. So tired…
A snarl shook the bard out of his slow, yet steady path to unconsciousness,
and he looked up to peer into the dark orbs of Death. White teeth gleamed
in the light, the Panther's features twisted with rage till they no longer
resembled the man he'd been forced to become. He was all animal, all predator…
And the bard was his prey.
Quatre yelped, as he hurriedly jumped out of the way of the Panther's weaponless
attack. Only teeth and hands and claws were his weapons of choice when
it came to the creature that had harmed Relena. With another savage growl,
Heero faced the slowly standing bard—Quatre's face pale and haggard, as
he tried to form his own magicks under control. He had to fight, he had
to kill… But Millardo was too strong… The Moon's hold on his magicks was
focused on one thing alone and that was bringing the Dawn to him; he didn't
care if Quatre or the Panther died, he only wanted her.
A low cry of loss erupted from the bard, his knees giving out on his shaking
form as magicks too strong for him twisted beneath his hands, dancing over
his skin… The Panther merely snarled, as he edged closer to Relena, hoping
to protect her from whatever the mage was about to conjure.
Send her. Send her. Send her! Send her! SEND HER! SEND HER!
Quatre
screamed, his hands gripping his head as Millardo's voice pounded through
his mind. Blood slid down his face, his scar opening with the intensity
and pressure of the magick the Moon forced upon him… So much was needed
to teleport a human, too much for Quatre's frail body…
And with blood staining his pale face and his screams slicing through the
air, the bard did the only thing he could do. With a trembling hand, covered
in his own blood, he pointed the waves of magicks toward the unconscious,
pain-stricken Dawn… And with Millardo's voice hoarse and guttural in his
head, uttering words of sorcery among screams of pain from more than one
human forced into this twisted ring, Quatre loosed the spell.
A flash of light shone before the bard, silver upon gold twisted the vision
of reality… And for one brief second, the bard thought he saw a figure
of blinding light and beauty, everything he'd once sought to bring forth
in song… And then, the magicks he'd sent turned and crashed upon his kneeling
form…
Then he was gone.
*
A/N: Well, it has been an awful long time since I last posted,
hasn't it? ^_^ While checking my email, I ran across a few emails wondering
where I was--why wasn't I updating... I'm afraid that this Figgy's life
has become somewhat hectic in the last few months... The very month this
chapter was supposed to be finished, I found out that my father is very
sick.
I'm only writing this because
I feel that you have all been extremely loyal readers and just plain NICE
people--and have a right to know the reason behind my constant delay---and
most likely, the delay in the next chapter as well. I just didn't want
ya'll to think I was abandoning D&M---I am going to still try and finish
this story, someday *^__^*, but there will be delays---months could pass
before another chapter is posted----and then again, a week may just pass.
But, trust me, I am going to finish Dawn and Moon Wars---I just hope you'll
keep on reading. ^_____^ Happiness to all! Kiss, kiss.
----Figgy