2. Aria

At first, the two of them had little success. In spite of the fact the people of Contigo lived so close to Jupiter Lighthouse, few seemed to know anything useful about it. And, Ivan thought, why should they? No one had ever been inside it, of course. Only a Jupiter Adept such as himself could open the doors of the lighthouse, and although the men of Contigo were well-endowed with muscles, and the women well-endowed with beauty, there were apparently no Adepts anywhere in the village. Garet seemed delighted at the useless bits of information Ivan pulled from the minds of the unsuspecting villagers, but Ivan only grew more depressed. Contigo seemed strikingly familiar to him, and in spite of all his investigating, he still couldn't understand why.

When Ivan and Garet finally sat down in the growing darkness to rest, Ivan looked up to see an old woman watching him. At first, he tried to ignore her, but he had always been self-conscious and couldn't stand her gaze for long. At last, he got up and walked over to the woman; maybe she knew something interesting about the lighthouse.

"Hello," Ivan said shyly to the old woman. "Do you mind if I ask you a question or two?"

The woman's brown eyes widened comically. "I . . . I didn't!" she sputtered suddenly. "I wasn't! I mean . . . I'm sorry."

Ivan blinked. "Sorry for what?"

"I was staring at you, wasn't I?" the woman said, lowering her brown eyes shamefully to the ground.

Ivan chuckled and shook his head. "There's no need to apologize," he said. "I'm sure it's my fault for looking so strange."

The woman laughed at this--a dry, but friendly cackle, but shook her head. "No," she said, "it's not that, dear. It's just that . . . you remind me of someone."

"Who?"

The old woman looked up at the brightening Contigo moon, smiling softly with reminiscence. "There was a child born here many years ago," she said. "The most beautiful baby boy I've ever seen. They said he was most special."

Ivan's eyes narrowed with embarrassment. "I . . . I remind you of a baby?" he asked uncertainly.

The woman reached out and patted Ivan on the shoulder. "Don't take it too hard," she said, "but yes. He was a most interesting little fellow. Blond hair, chubby little face ... But the most striking thing about him was his eyes. Beautiful violet eyes. It's a pretty rare color, you know, but you've got that boy's eyes exactly."

With his violet eyes still narrowed, Ivan stretched out one hand and settled it on the woman's arm. As if it were a prearranged signal, he felt Garet's greedy hand clamp on to his own shoulder as he did so.

The woman chuckled. "You're very friendly, aren't you?"

Ivan tapped into his Mind Read Psynergy.

I remember now, the old woman thought. That little boy's name was IVAN!

Ivan jumped back as if he had been burned, and his eyes widened horribly. Suddenly, he knew why Contigo seemed so familiar to him. He closed his eyes tightly, imagining a tiny baby in a cradle, the sweet winds of Contigo blowing his strands of blond hair, laughing and looking around with his violet eyes. Ivan, he thought, and suddenly knew the baby had been himself. Ivan had never known where he was born; he'd been Hammet's servant for as long as he could remember. The merchant had raised him, and for most of his life this knowledge was all Ivan had needed. But now, here, faced with this truth about his past, Ivan felt hungry for more, and eager to solve the mystery of his life's beginnings.

Garet shook Ivan out of his thoughts and looked at him with brown eyes bright with delight. "What a coincidence!" he exclaimed. "The baby's name is the same as yours!"

Ivan hissed at him to be quiet, but the woman seemed not to have heard.

"Come to think of it," she mused, "he would be about your age now, but he'd be much bigger."

"What makes you say that?" Ivan asked, talking quietly and politely in spite of the excited pounding of his heart.

"Well, the prophecies said he would grow up to be a mighty warrior, and, no offense, but you hardly look like a warrior."

His hand shaking violently, Ivan reached out and read her mind a second time. Only Garet could see the swirling Psynergy that surrounded Ivan as he called his power to life.

The prophecies also said Ivan would save the world. Or was it that he would protect the lighthouse? I can't remember . . . .

"So," Garet asked, "what ever happened to this kid?"

The woman looked at the two of them, her brown eyes sad and weary. "He went away," she said solemnly. "He was given away, by his parents. I can't remember the details." Blinking catonically, struggling to hide his surprise, Ivan thanked the woman for her help.

As the two of them walked away, Ivan withdrew into his own thoughts. Prophecies, he had learned, had predicted something for him, though it was unclear exactly what. Was he supposed to protect the Lighthouse? A likely possibility, with Felix and company journeying to light it. Maybe, if he prevented them from lighting Jupiter Lighthouse, the prophecy would be fulfilled. But he was doing that already, so why would he need a prophecy to tell him that?

Garet, too, had bowed his head in thought. Suddenly, he brightened. "Hey, Ivan! I just thought of something. This kid they're talking about was born a long time ago, right? And his name was Ivan. Well, you don't remember much of your past ... So, do you think maybe you were born here? Maybe that kid was you!"

Ivan cocked a weary eyebrow, amazed, once more, at how dense Garet could be. "It's possible," he said.

"Really? Wow! Wait 'til Isaac and Mia hear!"

As if summoned by the sound of their names, the Venus and Mercury Adepts appeared ahead from around a corner. Both looked tired, and more than a little confused.

"Hey, guys!" Garet called, jogging to them like an excited child. "I got to use Mind Read! And guess what? It looks like Ivan might have been born here!"

Isaac and Mia looked to Ivan with surprise.

"Ivan?" Mia asked. "Is that true? Ivan? Ivan? ..."

The Jupiter Adept had frozen in place on his way to reaching his friends, stunned by some sixth sense. Someone watched him, he knew. Someone important. Slowly, he turned his head, prepared for the worst.

Leaning against a wall and staring at him was a girl a little older than himself. She dressed in green and violet, with a dark leather vest. Long, violet hair was braided down her back, and it matched exactly the shade of her eyes, which were slanted and vibrant--and locked on Ivan.

He swallowed.

The girl moved from her place on the wall, arms crossed, and walked to meet Ivan. She ignored the rest of the group. "I am surprised," she said in a rich voice which was unexpectedly deep. "Out of all the villagers you spoke with, am I really the only one who recognizes you?"

Ivan blushed, surprised by the attention she gave him. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Come on, Ivan," she said. "How could I ever forget those cute purple eyes? Even if I was only two when I saw them last, your eyes are ... very memorable."

"Your eyes are the same color," Ivan noted.

"All the more reason for me to remember yours."

"What's your name?" Ivan asked, still blushing furiously.

"I'm Aria," the girl answered. "I live in the sanctum just east of town."

Ivan heard Mia gasp. "You live inside the sanctum?" she asked.

"Yes," Aria told Ivan, as if he were the one who had spoken. "But please don't tell anyone. They'd be irritated to learn I'm the only one who can get inside. Besides, they think the place is haunted." She scoffed at the idea. "There aren't even any strong monsters until you get deeper inside."

Unable to help himself, Ivan moved forward and used Mind Read ... and gasped aloud.

The first thing he heard was what he thought of as a mental laugh. Eerie, he thought, and a touch uncomfortable--someone laughing in your mind. It was followed by a strikingly clear thought.

Mind Read--a nice trick, isn't it?

Blinking, Ivan said, "You're an Adept?"

"Of course," Aria replied.

"Ivan," said a voice firmly behind him. With an effort, Ivan turned his gaze from Aria long enough to look.

Isaac was glaring at him. In fact, all of his friends were standing together, looking singularly ticked off.

"Let's go, Ivan," said Isaac.

Ivan narrowed his eyes with confusion. "But why? I'm ... I'm trying to talk to someone!"

Mia shook her head. "It's time we were going," she said. "Let's head for the inn."

"But--"

Garet seized him by the arm and began pulling him away from Aria. "Something's weird," he whispered, not nearly quiet enough.

"Definitely odd," Mia agreed. "Something not right with her eyes."

"My eyes?" Aria repeated innocently. "Most people tell me my eyes are lovely!"

"Your eyes are very lovely," Ivan said, fighting futilely as Garet pulled him away.

"Most people think my face is prettier than my eyes," Aria said, smiling shyly.

"I think your face is prettier than your eyes," said Ivan.

"Why, thank you, Ivan. That's very sweet of you."