Startropics: Follow The Southern Cross

by Erico

The time: June, 1990. The place: Coralcola Island. After defeating Zoda and saving the Argonian race, what is there left for Michael Jones to do?

8. Endless Tropical Night

STARTROPICS: FOLLOW THE SOUTHERN CROSS

By Eric 'Erico' Lawson

CHAPTER SEVEN: ENDLESS TROPICAL NIGHT

"You're a bright lad, but you have it all wrong. They call me a hero…a savior. And long after I'm gone, and after even your name has faded from memory, that is going to stay. No, we can't accept that sometimes extraordinary tragedy wields extraordinary heroes. We need a myth, a legend. And now you're here, and you're the tip of the iceberg. So even though it won't change the course of events…Let me tell you the truth.

People think that the hardest thing I ever did was stopping the Star Devils and saving Sellarus and her people. No. That was difficult, but it wasn't the hardest thing. Try cutting your heart out, and throwing it away. You can't? You say that's impossible? No, it's not impossible. It's the hardest thing you can ever do.

That's what I did…when I realized that the people I had saved, the woman I LOVED…

Had to be left behind. That I had to leave them and live out my life in solitude.

The Starseer died that day, boy. All that's left is a sad and lonely ghost, looking up at the stars for answers. So go ahead and gush in the Legend of the Starseer.

Maybe it's fitting they'd give me a posthumous happily ever after."

A tired hermit to a young Argonian explorer, some time after the Star Devil's defeat

---

Coralcola Island

In a little more than a month, I had come to the islands of the Southern Cross, gone on a great adventure, and saved an alien race from extinction at the hands of a butcher. And after I'd done all that…I got to turn around and save them again. And come to grips with who I was.

But, most importantly, I found Mica. That made everything else, all the pain and struggling worth it. And having Zoda dead…permanently, his original rotting in the once again dormant ruins of Howduyadocola…Rellini-Uros…No more nightmares. An end to the suffering.

We had our wounds to heal. Bana's death still hung over the island, and she would be mourned for months to come. Mica had been the closest to her of the children, her and little Rozlyn. But Mica just smiled, knowing something she didn't feel like telling the rest of us, and shook her head. She would not mourn for Bana like the others. The shaman was with the stars, Princess Mica told me once. There was great joy in that.

As for the Argonians…Despite their worries that the revealing of their curious powers, Shilivre, would cause them to be shunned, they were still welcomed with open arms. Knowing that Zoda…the Zoda they had known…was finally and truly dead, did wonders for them as well.

Giskard…You know, when I first saw him, I didn't think the boy ever knew how to smile. No, he could smile, I found out. He could smile a lot when the weight of the world wasn't on his shoulders. And of course, he still worked and studied with Uncle Steve.

Rozlyn…Not a day after I was back, I found her in Bana's old hut (Which had become Mica's by default) diligently weaving a blanket. She was just hung up on the idea that she had to finish it. Something Bana had told her once, I guessed. As the youngest of the Argonians, she strangely recovered from the trauma of all the events with little trouble. But she had decided to be strong, she told me once in that voice kids use when they want to sound serious. Strong like Bana.

Bakusian…Well, not much changed in his life. He played with us. He continued to learn how to cook. Nothing ever seemed to bother Bakusian…and the rest of the summer was good for him.

Amethyst and Ezilian? Well, they became a serious item not long after that. Amethyst was a good experience for the hothead. She calmed him down, controlled him when his temper might have gotten the best of him. And Ezilian and I started to get along, too. Or at least, we reached a point where he didn't want to pound my face in. We never did stop competing, though. Baseball, fishing, and even Frisbee…Everything was an attempt to have him try to be better than me. He failed, most times. There was only one thing that he was better at than me. Using Shilivre. No, whatever 'talent' I had for it went with the unknown power I had used to bring Mica back to life. It wasn't like I had grown dependent on it…But there were some nights I wished I had it back.

If only to listen to Mica like she could me.

Now, you're asking yourself, what about Marlin? Heh, that guy always did take after me. Despite his crippled right hand, he found that he really was ambidextrous. Just like I had guessed. It didn't wreck his game at all, amazingly enough. In fact, he's only gotten better. His jokes were as lousy as ever, though. That I couldn't change. Like the rest of the Argonians, Marlin finally began to feel like he could call Coralcola his home. There was nothing chasing them. And Argonia and their past was behind them. They had a future in front of them. And thanks to the islanders and the discretion of my Uncle Steve…

It was a future that they could spend without the government finding out about their true origins and using them as lab specimens.

And Mica. Of all the Argonians, she changed the most after Zoda's second coming. The Prophecy had hung over her like a set of chains, ruling her life. With Zoda dead, her world was suddenly bright and full of promise. She and her people may have been all that was left of Argonia, but on Coralcola, they had finally moved on. Then again, they'd had twenty years inside of those stasis cubes to ponder about the fall of their world. Every day, she grew more hopeful. Every day, Mica became more beautiful than the one before, happier, full of laughter. I didn't know what it meant to live without hope like she had. But living with promise, knowing that the future wasn't written in stone…That I knew. That, I was glad to share.

The rest of the summer…Fishing and baseball were two of the highlights. And for the record, I still hate bananas. It was truly a vacation then. We had my birthday in late July (A day late, but you could hardly tell the difference by how they celebrated) and I turned 16 at last. It was a bit of a sad day as well, though. Every day we spent enjoying life on Coralcola was another day closer to when I'd have to leave and go back to Seattle for school. Neither Mica nor myself wanted that day to come, as much as we knew it would. But most days, that didn't matter. We kept on living, went on picnics, took long walks at night, and snuck kisses behind the Chief's hut. As if we could force the day not to come by not dwelling on it, that was how we lived.

You would think that that would wrap up the strange little tale of my adventure-filled life, right? That I had saved the day twice over, I'd saved the Princess who had fallen in love with me, and the world moved on in prosperity. If that had been the way of it, life would have been dull indeed.

The ruins of Howduyadocola, the beginning and end of all our problems, had been resolved. Uncle Steve, through Zoda and Giskard had finally learned all of its secrets…of a place called Rellini-Uros, home to the ancestors of the modern Polynesians who lived in the islands of the Southern Cross, and the place where the Argonian Starseekers had come. Zoda had been born at Rellini-Uros, the half-breed son of an Argonian mother and a human father. Under his then name of Zodus, he had grown up with very little Shilivre, but he compensated for intelligence and shrewd dealings. His wisdom led King Hirocon, who had somehow managed to travel the distance over time and space from modern Argonia to ancient Earth, to come back and enlist him as his advisor. Zodus became obsessed with the power of Shilivre, and sought to gain it by draining it from the strongest daughter of Sellarus, Mica's mother. When the plot failed, he was exiled and Rellini-Uros was abandoned and forgotten as punishment.

Rellini-Uros grew old and ancient…and forgotten. The inhabitants of the Argonian colony spread out through the islands of the Southern Cross, Argonian and human alike, and began new lives. Over the thousands of years that passed, they forgot their true origins, except through the oldest legends passed down only through the shamans of the islands…The shamans like Bana. They kept the stories alive, and using the strength that their alien ancestors had granted them, kept watch and waited.

Zodus, now Zoda, would return to Argonia after his exile, in command of a space pirate armada. He once again tried to take the power of Shilivre for himself…and as an added bonus, sought to destroy Argonia entirely. He succeeded in the second, but King Hirocon, acting quickly, saved Princess Mica and the other noble children from doom by sending them to Earth.

And that's when Uncle Steve…and I…came into the picture.

It was full circle. All questions had been answered, all mysteries cleared up. And then my Uncle went and found one more. He had had a book delivered to him by a mysterious stranger during one of his cargo helicopter drops from Hawaii…a book called the Oxford Wonder World, which looked at different periods of human history. He'd shrugged it off for a few days before he finally worked up the effort to take a closer look at it.

Everything in the book seemed to make sense, outside of the bizarre references to Sherlock Holmes and Camelot. Seemed to, or enough that Uncle Steve almost ignored it.

But he couldn't ignore what was handwritten in pen on the inside cover of the book. Ancient Argonian script, the same kind that Giskard was slowly teaching him to read.

The same kind that had been engraved on the side of the Argonian escape pod when it fell to Earth.

The fallen traveler waits in time. That was what Giskard and Uncle Steve were able to get from the book immediately. After that was more garbled, encoded gibberish, which would take them a lot longer to do. Sadly, they didn't have an entire summer.

It was August 10th when Uncle Steve and Giskard uncovered that line. And the helicopter which would take me back to Seattle…Came on the 12th.

My birthday had come and gone. I was 16 years old.

Leaving Coralcola was like waking up from a dream…A dream I never wanted to leave.

---

August 12th, 1990 A.D.

Coralcola Island Helipad

10:04 A.M.

Dr. Jones carried with him two briefcases of notes and information; everything he had on ancient Argonian script, a culmination of the work that he and Giskard Rorth had been putting together. Beyond that, and the curious Oxford Wonder World, there was little at his laboratory at Coralcola he needed.

The helicopter was quiet, the blades spinning at the lowest possible speed. It was noisy enough, though, that the pilot had to shout for the archaeologist to hear him correctly.

"I thought I was taking two people back!" The pilot said, helping Dr. Jones load his briefcases on board. The tired researcher absentmindedly stroked what little hair he had left and smiled.

"You are!" He replied, not having to shout as loudly. Even with his headphone-equipped earmuffs, the pilot nodded, understanding him entirely.

"Well, he'd better get here soon. My flight window is only good for another fifteen minutes, and then I have to go!"

Dr. Jones nodded. "He'll be here." He answered, a little subdued as he spoke those words. He glanced beyond the ring of wellwishers, villagers and Argonians…or really, just villagers now…Towards Coralcola Village.

He closed his eyes, letting out a silent sigh. He'll be here, because he has to be. But he has to say goodbye first.

They sat inside of the hut of the late Bana Omoy, the residence Princess Seremichaela Argos had been allowed to stay in. They did nothing, and said even less. The only thing Mica found herself able to do was to lean against his shoulder, trying to remember the smell of him, and the way his strong arms wrapped around her arms and waist, holding her close. It hurt to talk, because every time she tried, the only thought that came to mind was always I don't want you to leave.

Michael stared up at the ceiling, knowing that he had to go. He'd heard the helicopter coming in, and his bags sat packed at the door. His baseball bat, what few baseballs he had left after his adventure, and his glove were all stored away. "Will you be all right?" He asked, looking at her with eyes that knew her sadness.

Mica sniffed away the last of her tears and offered him one of her stubborn smiles. "Compared to losing your entire world, it's not so bad. After all, I know you'll still be alive, in your Seattle." She sat up a little straighter. "Besides, I have to be strong. For the others, you know?"

Mike smiled back, more genuinely than her grin. "But you don't need to worry about them now, Mica. You don't have to be their leader anymore. All you have to do is be their friend."

She laughed a little at that. "I…I suppose you're right." She admitted wearily. Silence came over them again, both painfully aware that the time for their separation was drawing near. It destroyed so many questions she might have had for him, so many of the little joking comments he would leave her with.

"I won't be gone forever, you know." Mike said, quiet. "School only goes for about nine months. Once May comes around…I'll be on the first flight back to Coralcola." It was a hopeful promise, and one he hoped wasn't an empty one. It all relied on his Uncle, really…how willing to compromise the man was.

Mica bit her lip. "But that's almost a year. What if you…" He looked at her, his dazzling blue eyes catching the fire in hers, wondering, and the word died in her throat. She turned away from him, ashamed and worried. "What if you forget me?" She whispered, trying so hard not to cry.

Mike drew her into a hug, pressing her against him and letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she let out those few precious tears. "I could never forget you." He answered, voice rough and choked up. He meant it, and she knew it. "Not in ten thousand years."

"Not even in a million?" She asked, her mind flashing back to the legend of the Starseer, and the Prophecy which had been proven so right.

"Not even then." He swore, stroking at her hair. "It doesn't matter what I do, or where I go…I'll always remember you, Mica. And I'll always come back here to find you."

Mica closed her eyes, and thought the sentence she dared not speak.

And I'll be waiting for you here…me, and the love you've awakened.

Mike froze, pulled away. His eyes were puzzled, staring at her in befuddled wonder. "Did you just…say something?" He fumbled over the words, because it had sounded like her voice, but…it had been different.

Stunned, Mica shook her head. "No, I just…" Realization caused her eyes to go wide in wonder. "I…Just thought it…"

Mike blinked as he absorbed that, disbelieving. "But I…I don't have Shilivre anymore, so how could you…"

Mica nearly laughed at that, stunned. "I don't know." She finally said, a sudden radiance filling her. "I don't know how, but you can still hear me, and…"

If you can hear me, then…

"You can hear me." Mike uttered. But he did more than speak it. The message reverberated in her own thoughts as well, and she could have cried for it.

She drew him into another fierce hug. "Now you can't forget me." She whispered with determined pride. "Because now I can always talk to you."

Mike let out a chuckle and hugged her back, releasing her and getting up. "Just don't call too often, hmm?" He asked gently. "It would be pretty bogus if you tried to get my attention in the middle of a test."

She laughed at that, too. There had been a moment that Mike had wondered if she would truly be all right, here on Coralcola with only the islanders and the other Argonians…If, without him, she would be all right.

But as he looked down at her, radiant and just as beautiful as the first day he had met her, but only more so now, he smiled and gave a nod of his head. She would be better than all right. And so would he.

"Go." She nodded, the look in her eyes saying everything else as their telepathic connection closed. "You don't want to miss your ride home."

Mike smiled and nodded, picking up his bags at the door and giving her one last look before turning and leaving. Out of Mica's hut. Out of Coralcola village. He waved to Rozlyn and Bakusian and Marlin and Giskard and Amethyst, all huddled together and admiring Rozlyn's still half-finished quilt. They smiled and waved back, with shouts telling him to come back soon, and to 'hit 'em out of the park!', as Marlin had learned from Mike's lexicon.

Halfway to the helipad, Mike was met with the only Argonian he had not seen before. Ezilian glanced at him, leaning against a palm tree with his arms folded.

The two young men looked at each other, Mike with his open stare and Ezilian with an inquisitive cunning, tempered by their experience and the slow progression away from venomous wrath that had once been.

"So, I guess this is it then." Ezilian said calmly, looking at his younger rival.

Mike nodded. "I guess so." He answered.

Ezilian twisted the corner of his mouth ever so slightly, as if thinking about something. "Will she be all right?"

Mike smiled. "She'll be fine." He thought about it for a moment longer and cleared his throat. "Ezilian?"

"Yeah?"

"If you could…keep an eye on her." Mike asked.

"Why, are you leaving forever?" Ezilian countered boldly. Mike shook his head quickly, a little surprised at the question. The older boy scratched at his long and pointed ear. "Well then, I don't think I have to worry. And neither should you."

Ezilian pulled himself off of the tree and jammed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, strolling past Michael with a disinterested gaze. "You know where to find us, hero." Came the words of the last living Ranuforte. "So don't be a stranger."

Mike stood there, facing forward and towards the helipad as Ezilian Ranuforte, the eldest of the Argonian children, continued back towards Coralcola Village. Their home. Mike pondered what Ezilian had meant exactly, as there was an air of respect that had seeped into his tone when he had walked away. Slowly smiling to himself as he picked his feet up off of the ground and continued to trudge forward, Michael Jones realized how far they had all come.

They would be fine. All of them now.

---

Dr. Jones was waiting beyond the range of the helicopter's main rotor, smiling with his arms crossed when Mike came by. There was excitement on the older man's face, but a respect as well for the youth who had grown so much in only three months.

"Did you say all your goodbyes?" He asked his nephew. Mike looked at his Uncle and smiled, trying his best not to be sad. He nodded his head, and Dr. Jones let out a chuckle. "Well, all right then."

They got onto the helicopter, relaxing back into the fake leather seats and bracing themselves against the vibration of the craft as the rotors revved back up, lifting them into the air in seconds.

The pilot spoke over the intercom. "It'll be about a two and a half-hour trip to Hawaii. Settle back and enjoy the ocean view, gentlemen."

It wasn't the ocean view Mike looked for. As they went up hundreds, thousands of feet into the air and turned to the northeast, he put his face up next to the window in the helicopter's side and stared down.

Coralcola, always there, destined to become a distant memory, fell away from them. Mike bit his lip, thinking back to when he'd first come here, looking for a vacation and loads of fishing. Instead, he'd found an adventure worthy of a Nintendo game, almost like Link or Mario.

The island had held more than its share of secrets, and for all he knew now, all he'd experienced, Mike somehow felt that seductive crescent of land in the middle of the wide blue Pacific had kept more hidden from him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear something his history teacher, a somewhat whimsical man who diverted on philosophical tangents, had once said.

"And no secrets were truer in times bound and free, than those left still and cold in the sea." It had haunted him then, and he was surprised he could remember it now.

His hand went up against the window, as if he could somehow grab the now small island and put it in his pocket, take it with him. He couldn't, of course…but the memory of Coralcola, all he had endured would stay with him forever.

"I'll come back." He promised. Maybe the promise was meant for him. Maybe it was meant for Princess Mica. Maybe it was for Coralcola itself, as alive to him now as any person ever was.

It was just a promise. One to be kept.

Princess Mica's thoughts floated up to him, clear and true even by the great distance between them. Mike smiled, thinking to himself that the bond they shared could even reach to the other side of the earth if it had to.

I'll be waiting…Right here. And if you ever get lost, if you ever want to find me, all you have to do…Is follow the southern cross.

Mike closed his eyes, receiving the message. She had expected no reply, and he gave none. But their connection lingered, as she let his presence swirl about her, comforting and knowing.

Dr. Jones reached over and nudged Mike's shoulder, ending their link and bringing him back to the smaller world of the helicopter. "I'll bet you're glad that I invited you to spend your summer vacation with me." His Uncle said, smiling.

Mike nodded slowly, acknowledging it. "More than you know." Came his answer, so soft the archaeologist could barely hear it over the steady thrum of the helicopter's rotor.

Dr. Jones knew by the distant, glazed look of his nephew that Michael's thoughts were still back on that island. He was still thinking of Mica, and probably would for a long while. For a moment, Dr. Jones thought it might do to take his nephew aside and warn him of the dangers of his thinking, of the course he had chosen. Princess Mica was beautiful. She was receptive. She, and all the other Argonians saw him as a hero, rightfully so.

But no matter how one put it, the archaeologist thought to himself with a glimmer of sadness, they were still from two different worlds. She had lost one and now belonged to another. Michael's world was back in Seattle, and all of this was nothing more than a fanciful dream, when seen in that regard.

Yet…In Michael's eyes, there was a new fire there, a strength of will and a determination that had not existed before it all. It may have been a dream, but it was Michael's dream.

Steve Jones had never allowed anyone to sway him from his own dreams.

So Michael Jones, the new generation of his family…Could keep his. For a while.

Dr. Jones patted Mike's shoulder, looking past the side of his head to the last sliver of Coralcola as it disappeared into the horizon, and out of their lives.

"We'll come back." Michael said, determined, yet not demanding.

His Uncle nodded, for next summer was coming. "We'll come back." He said, reaffirming Mike's words. The boy looked back up at him, smiling gently with those youthful eyes of his. Eyes still looking for the world's wonders. Eyes that Dr. Jones had almost forgotten.

In that moment, Dr. Stephen Jones felt closer to his nephew than he ever had before. He may have been his brother's son by birth…

But Michael's spirit was a mirror of his. And all was right with the world.

The two looked away from where Coralcola was, staring out to the open waves and the future ahead of them.

The sea below was as blue as the sea their helicopter swam them through, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. There were no nightmares.

Just dreams.

---

School started the week after I got back. That was helpful…being occupied by homework and fall training kept me from missing Mica too badly. I'll admit, though, it wasn't the easiest time.

In my history classes, we began to study the flow of Polynesians across the Pacific Ocean, and I had to stop myself from interrupting the instructor and telling them they were wrong.

Of course, the truth that I knew wasn't something that I could exactly share. My Uncle and I had taken a vow of secrecy about our experiences on Coralcola Island for a very good reason. Beyond the fact that even trying to explain about the Argonians, the Starseekers, Rellini-Uros and half-alien children and descendants would have marked us as people fit for the nuthouse, there was something deeper. We had a responsibility to protect the Coralcolans, to let them keep their privacy. The islands of the Southern Cross had continued to remain relatively untouched by the modern world, outside of the occasional lighthouse and my Uncle's laboratory at Coralcola itself. All that would have been lost, and their lives ruined. And even more important than the Coralcolans, who trusted us to leave them be, there were seven children who we had pledged to keep safe from the prying eyes of the world.

I loved one of them. I had saved them all from Zoda…twice. I wasn't about to lose them because I blurted out things that nobody else could know.

About twice a week, I'd get a telepathic message from Mica, and we'd see how the other was doing. Usually, they happened when nobody else was around, but there was one time that she popped into my head at the dinner table. I got some odd looks from the folks before I excused myself.

I found myself visiting my Uncle Steve a lot more often. My mom thought that was funny; I'd gone most of my life not ever seeing my Uncle, and then after one summer with him, 'He'd become my best friend', to paraphrase one of her comments. If she wanted to think like that, I wasn't going to stop her.

It wasn't the truth of it, of course.

The truth was that I was dying to know, just as much as Giskard was, what else sat in the Oxford Wonder World book my Uncle had. There was more to it than the beginning that they were able to translate.

The fallen traveler waits in time.

I just don't think that any of us were prepared for what the rest of the message said.

We weren't prepared for what it would mean, either.

---

It should have just been another ordinary fall day. After school was over with, I was on my way home when Mica gave me a call. Even though it was a telepathic message, that didn't stop her from making a joke of it. 'Pick up the phone', she said. Right.

She told me that she'd had a dream. That her father, King Hirocon of all people had spoken to her. The weird thing was his message didn't make any sense. Something about reversing the code, is what she said to me. She thought it might help Uncle Steve translate the book, but I didn't understand it. Ancient alien languages and code weren't my thing, really.

Still, I told her I'd pass it along. So I took a detour from my route home and headed to Uncle Steve's rented flat. At the very least, I had thought, he could use some cheering up. Dad had said he'd been cooping himself up surrounded by his old books for way too long, and I tended to agree.

Just as I had thought, our family's Archaeologist was in his study, wracking his brain for the answer. He cheered up a bit when he spotted me, though he was curious as to why I'd come out to bother him on a school day. I told him.

The passage he was struggling with had turned out to be, even decoded into decipherable ancient Argonian, pure gibberish. "Was it a cat I saw? Was it a rat I saw?"

Whatever had been in Mica's dream tipped off something in his the mental scales of his brain. He set himself to work again, moving in a flurry around me and scribbling away inside of the cover of the book, putting English underneath the complex verse.

He paused and read it aloud, and I might have laughed. It sounded like something out of an old doo wop record he liked listening to, more than some sort of secret script.

Yes, I laughed at it. I just thought I'd make that clear before I continued, so that could sit in your brain. Uncle Steve, chanting "Papa oom mow mow..." And countless other garbled syllabic nonsense. Got that visual image?

Good.

Now imagine, if you will, that that element of STUPIDITY is exactly what was needed to translate the Oxford Wonder World. And now, I'll ask you to take a leap of faith more. But you're pretty open-minded, right? I mean, this is me we're talking about. The same Mike Jones who went up in an alien spaceship and stopped space pirates and their transforming boss? The same Mike Jones who went island hopping in a multimillion dollar experimental submarine, even though I didn't have more than my learner's permit at the time?

At least you're staying with me. So there's one last leap of faith I need you all to make.

Imagine, if you will, that that book was more than just a book.

Believe, if you can, that because of Uncle Steve's desire to figure out every archaeological puzzle placed in front of him, that I was at the beginning of an entirely new adventure. One that would certainly take me away from home, and away from school for several days.

Remember the ancient Argonian verse scrawled in the cover. Think long and hard about it.

The fallen traveler waits in time.

---

I recall thinking to myself, as I went tumbling through nauseating bright lights to places unknown, away from the worried, screaming voice of my Uncle with the book tumbling beside me, that I would have strangled whoever wrote that in there.

There are times you just don't want to appreciate a good literal description of things.

I recall thinking to myself when I came to, 'There really is no justice in the world', because not only did I have a damn headache, but it was colder than any winter I'd ever felt in Seattle before.

Of course, it didn't help matters when I woke up that I was standing in open, frozen wasteland. Outside of my backpack, and my Uncle's book, the Oxford Wonder World, I really had nothing on me. Trying to make sense of what had just happened was no easy picnic. But as far as I could tell, I HAD been in Seattle, and I was anywhere but wherever the book had sent me.

Wandering through the caves, I had to fight off the beasts and creatures with nothing but rocks I found strewn about. At least I had that much; My pitching talents came in handy, and I found that they were just as effective in scaring beasts off as a bag of horsehides were.

Eventually, I made my way to a settlement, and it was right about then I felt like I could have quoted the Wizard of Oz to excess. There wasn't any yellow brick road in my future, but I was definitely not in Kansas anymore.

It looked and it felt like something out of the stone age. About as helpful too. When few things began to make sense, I turned to the things that didn't.

After all, if aliens could travel across the galaxy to seek refuge on Earth...

As luck would have it, a fella whose name I surmised was Tink seemed charitable to strangers who didn't walk around in fur loincloths in the cold. He gave me a stone axe for my trouble, and I found myself being asked to take out a creature by the name of "Yum-Yum" who'd been causing them some headaches as of late. Recalling that it wasn't the first time I'd been asked to stop a critter who'd gotten out of hand, I set out. No yo-yo this time around; No, now I had an axe. It worked just about as well, thankfully, and Yum-Yum went down. Beyond him, and out on a snowy cliff, I found an object which didn't belong; a strange tetrad which pulsed with some unknown power.

I think in retrospect, I felt a familiarity with it. No voice spoke to me, and no power came, but there was something in how it felt…

I didn't have long to dwell on it. My loneliness in it ended when a voice I'd begun to forget flashed in my mind.

Mica was speaking to me…And God, it felt good to hear her voice.

---

As she explained to me, I'd vanished out of thin air in Seattle, according to what my Uncle Steve had radioed to those concerned in Coralcola. He realized too late a function to the 'Oxford Wonder World' he'd passed over before; when triggered with the proper words, it acted as a time travel device. And according to the pages I skimmed through, I'd ended up in the Ice Age. But Tetrad in hand, and the day saved for the moment, Mica gave me some much needed cheer. Apparently, as long as I kept the book close, and kept trudging, I'd end up back home. That was the hope at least. I just had to finish collecting all the other tetrads first.

I think my line to her before we said goodbye was "Didn't I just get done saving the world?" She laughed in her own way, and wished me luck. There was longing in her voice, and probably in mine as well. I wanted to get back just as much as she wanted me to be safe. With a mental note to kill Uncle Steve when I escaped this adventure through time, I opened up the Wonder World, spoke the incantation he'd stumbled across back in Seattle, and opened up the floodgates to adventure once more.

---

If you'll recall the last time I had to recap matters, I killed a lot of things with my yo-yo. Well, this time around, I ended up killing a lot of things with my axe-at least, at first. The next place I went was ancient Egypt, and even I could recognize that fact. Outside of having to play delivery boy for Cleopatra, I ended up finding a bronze dagger to replace my worn-down axe, thanks to a merchant who probably had a few screws missing. Of course, most people would think that the bizarre part of the affair in the Nile would be fighting that floating mask that looked like a reject from King Tut's tomb, but that's not the case.

No, the winner of the weird moments award went to a crazy monkey I met in the marshes. Not only did the monkey have the ability to communicate with me (Which seemed about as rational as anything else that ever happened), but he taught me a trick I thought had been lost to me forever.

Bana Omoy would have smiled, if she were alive. I found out that even weakened after saving Mica's life, I could still use Shilivre. It was the monkey who proved it to me, when he taught me how to tap into it, and with a level of patience that Ezilian had never shown me, taught me how to harness it effectively. The result was a 'Psychic Shockwave'…A coalesced burst of Shilivre harnessed by mental control. Turned out it did more to wreck that floating mask's day than my dagger did. I tried to forget the whole experience as a bad dream and collected the tetrad in Egypt before moving on.

Now here's something that might blow your mind; Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wasn't telling fiction. Sherlock Holmes was alive and well in the late 19th century England, because that's where I ended up next and that's who I met. After getting in a tangle with the law, I met the jolly old violin playing fool himself, who was hot on the tail of a shady character named 'Soda', or something along those lines.

I don't believe in coincidences. I didn't believe in them then, and I don't now. He had mispronounced the name, but I knew the moment that Sherlock said it, things had come full circle. Zoda, or at least another duplicate of him, was back.

Even if the true Zoda was dead, a clone was bad enough. With Tetrads on my mind, I entered into the sewers of old London and got to work. More of the squirrelly creatures Zoda's original clone had spawned in the spaceship months before were the first order of the day, followed by a brain.

And then the clone itself, who nearly took me down. More by dumb luck than skill, I think, I hurt it enough that it panicked. It tried to transform into the creature that had been the source of my nightmares long ago…But unlike the first clone of Zoda back in the spaceship, it couldn't pull it off. It exploded apart, and I took home another Tetrad piece. One thing was for certain, though; It was looking less like some freak accident that I'd ended up surfing the timestream.

Where Zoda was involved, nothing was coincidence.

---

The Wonder World had picked several colorful locations for me to get lost in; The Wild West came next, where beyond picking a fight with a skeletal miner, the only thing of importance to mention was a talking donkey who, just like that monkey in Ancient Egypt, somehow had the ability to attune me with my lost Shilivre a little bit more. The 'Psychic Shockwave' that Ezilian had thought I'd never learn got an upgrade, and off we went.

In Renaissance Italy, I met the master himself; Leonardo Da Vinci, who through his stilted English (Not his first language, by any means) after I broke him out of the stone statue he was trapped in, informed me that there was a creature named Zoda running loose. Wonderful, I thought to myself…ANOTHER one. I got a katana from the man, and while it was meant to be a precision instrument of death (One of the things you learn from watching too many foreign films), in my hands, it threw as well as anything else.

And just so we can keep this clear…I was the guy who inspired Leonardo to draw the Mona Lisa's face like that. Grateful for being freed, he loaned me a strange flying machine he was working on; You never thought anything he designed ever made it off the page, but it did. I headed for a castle in the distance, where I would find the next Tetrad.

Of course, nothing is ever that easy, and another telepathic communication from Mica sent me into overdrive.

Zoda's clones had come to Coralcola in my absence, and badgered the secrets of my time travel abilities from Uncle Steve, who'd returned to Coralcola and his lab (And Giskard, most importantly) to try and figure out a way to get me home safely. She was cut off soon after, making clear the point that they were all in serious danger. I made my way through the castle's traps and creatures, scored the tetrad, and prepared to leap.

But then the next clone of Zoda did it for me. He launched me to Transylvania.

---

There's a fine line between reality and fantasy, or at least I used to believe that. But after I made it through the Transylvanian castle's hordes, I began to wonder if the myths were influenced by reality. Of course, it might have been the other way around, and just as Zoda's arrival in the Islands of the Southern Cross had revived restless spirits and dangerous monsters, imagination powered reality's beasts.

With katana and my improved Psychic Shockwave in hand, I fought the next Zoda to a standstill, and then blew him away, despite his transformation into a strange owl-like critter. Another Tetrad, another Time Warp, another place.

By this point, my worries for Mica and the others had reached a fever pitch. Were they still alive? Were they captured? Had the Zoda clones tried to do what the true Zoda had, and drain them of their Shilivre and their life? I had no way of knowing with Mica's mindlink down.

All I knew was that I was still miles and centuries from home, when everyone I knew needed me most. But at least things were looking up, I determined. I'd gone from one castle to another…

From the home of Dracula to a place of knights and tree-covered fields. And there was trouble here, too, but not from Zoda, thankfully.

Myth and history seemed to blur all the more for me, because I had stumbled straight into Camelot. King Arthur himself, head of the round table asked for my assistance. He'd actually been expecting me, since Merlin (Who was, apparently just as alive) had told him I'd be coming. How exactly Merlin knew that was a question I never got answered, at least from the king.

Bargaining on the principle that I always scored a Tetrad whenever I helped out the locals, I agreed to King Arthur's request. He even knighted me, which means I'm the last living Knight of the Round Table in all the world.

"Kill a dragon," I remember saying to myself as I walked away from the castle and towards the very large cave along the mountain path. "I've killed worse." Well, that may have been the case, and certainly a firebreathing menace is easier to handle than a psychotic alien with transformative capabilities, but it's no picnic. I slugged my way through his den, fought off his minions, and kept on going.

Of course, the main question as I wandered through the cave was what happened next. And then an owl flew down, and answered the question for me.

Or, at least, it started out like an owl, as unusual as a talking owl was. Then it changed into a donkey…And then, into a monkey…and finally, into a man.

Standing majestic in his blue robes, the white-bearded wizard known as Merlin introduced himself, smiling as though he had expected me all along.

---

"You seem a little dazed, Mr. Jones." Merlin announced, amiable to a fault as he folded his arms. "Yes, call me Merlin. The magician from King Arthur's court."

Michael Jones' throat was dry as he lifted a shaky hand to point. "I know who you are…but you're telling me…the monkey in ancient Egypt…"

"That was me."

"And the donkey in the wild west…"

"Me also."

"But, that…that's impossible, you couldn't…"

"Unless, I too, had the power to transcend time and space." The old wizard concluded, unable to stop a grin. "I find it's helpful to take alternate forms at times. I hope you can forgive the deception, but it was necessary at the time."

"Have you been following me?" Mike accused the old man. Merlin thought it over for a moment, then shook his wizened head.

"Following you? No. But I have been guiding you, Michael Jones. Both you and your uncle, for some time now." Michael's flabbergasted stare prompted him to continue, which the wizard did with a sigh. "Long ago, I had a very good friend from a planet far distant from this one. His name was Hirocon."

A lightbulb flashed in Mike's mind. "But Hirocon is the name of…" He shook his head. "Good lord. You mean to tell me that Mica's father, the king…"

"Yes, I knew him." Merlin mused. "A bit stuffy at times, but you couldn't find a better player for Nine-Men's Morris. He spread the Tetrads across time and space, so that only a chosen hero of his people could find them." Merlin pointed to Mike. "That would be you, in case you were wondering."

"Why me?" Mike asked, flabbergasted.

"Well, when you saved the children, I assumed you'd know why." The old magician deadpanned. "Hirocon never got into the specifics of Argonian religion and mythology, but I recall there was something about the Starseer returning in their hour of greatest need. And when those children needed a hero the most, you saved them. You even had the Starseer's weapon, did you not?"

"I did." Mike retorted. "But not anymore. And if it's all the same, I put that debate to rest a long time ago. I really don't know if I believe in reincarnation, so whether or not I am the Starseer or not, I just happened to be there."

"True hearts in the darkness." Merlin suggested, smiling again. "I see you've taken good care of that book I left for your Uncle."

The corner of the wonder world jutted out from the side of his coat, and Mike tucked it back away. "YOU gave this book to my Uncle?!"

"The fallen traveler waits in time." Merlin nodded, repeating the sentence. "I was the courier then, yes. But I had my reasons, so don't go believing I'm some sort of sick man out to control your life. I'm not."

"So why did you do it then!?" Mike demanded. "You've taken me from my life, thrown me headlong into another fight, and for what?!"

"For the Tetrads, Michael." Merlin said back, chastising. "For the Tetrads. Believe me, you have no idea how important they are. They had to be found."

"So why didn't you collect them!? You're supposed to be the most powerful magician in history!"

"Magic?" Merlin questioned, and smiled. He lifted his hand and produced an orb of energy Michael recognized. "You can make a room as bright as day with the flick of a switch. You can talk to people thousands of miles away instantly. Are such things magic in your world? No, Michael. Hirocon came to me because I had a rare gift among our kind; an aberration, a trait countless generations had tried to remove by genetic drift. Some will call it magic, and perhaps it is. But Hirocon always told me it had a true name; Shilivre."

"Heinous." Mike uttered, sitting down. "Totally heinous."

"It's not quite so unusual, you know." Merlin sighed, kneeling down beside the boy sent to save the world again. "Bana Omoy had Shilivre. Zodus, the half-breed had Shilivre. And you have it."

"Had it."

"No, HAVE it." Merlin chirped critically. "Lands above, you're a stubborn one. Michael, you've ALWAYS had Shilivre. When you saved Princess Mica, you lost too much of your power. It was too weak to respond, and you were untrained with it in the first place. I gave it back to you; or rather, I helped you to remember how to use it."

Merlin lifted himself to his feet, brushing out his blue robes. "Just as I'll help you to learn how to use it to its fullest. For what you'll have to do, you'll need it. Nothing less will do."

Mike stood back up. "But what if I'm not the…"

"Starseer or not, you are their hero." Merlin explained. "You are the one chosen by the Argonians to defend them. And you alone have Shilivre strong enough to stop the shadows of Zodus."

Mike bit his lip. "Are you sure that I'm the one?"

"Hirocon could transcend time and space. It was he who taught me how to do so." Merlin exhaled. "Rellini-Uros? Zodus? They exist in the ancient past of Earth. Yet you saw Zodus alive and well, a relic from that forgotten age. You fought with him, defeated him. I was Hirocon's second contact in the timestream, and the one he trusted when Zodus fell from grace." The old wizard removed his star-sparkled blue hat, pursing his lips. "He believed a hero would come to make right all the wrongs his mistakes had caused. I have searched for years for that hero, and if it is not you, Michael, then there is truly nobody else who can do what must be done, and all my work, my promise to Hirocon was in vain."

Michael shut his eyes. "Merlin…tell me. Just what did Hirocon put in those Tetrads that was so important?"

"The most important thing of all." The sage old man whispered. "The hope of a lost people. Beyond these tunnels, beyond the dragon, is the final Tetrad. With it, you will carry the fate of every Argonian that has been…and every one yet to be."

It was plenty to take in. But then, Mike rationalized, he'd been forced to accept plenty of things in his time. Once more, he was being asked to become a hero, however unwilling he was.

But this was the third time it had happened. And maybe, just as he was stronger than he had been…Perhaps he wasn't quite as unwilling.

The boy from Seattle opened his eyes again, and they shone with purpose. "Teach me what I need to know." He asked, and Merlin felt a surge of hope run through him. "Teach me to use my power."

The old wizard nodded his head.

It was time.

---

He taught me, all right. The Psychic Shockwave received its final boost, and just as Merlin had said, the Shilivre had never really left me.

I really had just lost my connection, but it had always been there. Merlin said his farewells, offered a few last words of encouragement, and disappeared, probably to get back to King Arthur. He had his place, after all, and I had mine.

Farther in the cave, I met with some more resistance before finally reaching the dragon itself. I put the beast itself down, saving all of Camelot from being burned and razed. With Katana in hand and the "Ultra Psychic Shockwave" at my back, it was easy. I finally felt, as I was fighting against the dragon, like I had regained all the strength I'd lost when I revived Princess Mica and nearly sacrificed my own life. No…Not just regained. I was stronger now than I'd ever been.

Strong enough to be the hero Merlin, and apparently Hirocon, had needed. But just as I found the last Tetrad, I received a frantic bulletin from Mica.

They were all in danger. Coralcola had been invaded. Zoda was back, and…

The connection was lost before she could tell me anything more, and panic hit overdrive. With all the Tetrads in hand, I opened up the Oxford Wonder World, a gift from Merlin placed in my uncle's hands for the purpose of sending me on a crazed search for the Tetrads months before, and spoke the incantation I knew by heart.

I was done with the past. I was done with the 'great plan' of Merlin, who had acted to carry out the final wishes of Hirocon. From now on, for better or worse, Tetrads or no, I was homeward bound, to my own time, to my own place.

Home was no longer Seattle, though. As I spiraled through the strange blue vortex towards the future, my present, a thought came to mind. Home really was where the heart was. And my heart was with Mica. She was in danger, and that one concern overrode everything else.

To Coralcola I went. To one last battle. I found the island deserted, save for far more pigs than I'd ever seen before, and one badly shaken native who explained that the pigs were all the Coralcolans, transformed by Zoda.

But it wasn't Zoda. No, the real Zoda had died at Rellini-Uros, by my hands. This one, like the two beasts I'd faced in England and Transylvania, like the one I'd destroyed in the alien spaceship trying to save the stasis cubes, was just another clone.

I had my Shilivre. I had the Ultra Psychic Shockwave. I had the tunnels of Coralcola in front of me. Old familiar passages remained much the same, and the effect of unbridled alien evil had risen again. The Serpent I'd destroyed long ago, nothing but bones, rose up and fought me, as dangerous as ever. But I was dangerous too, more than I had been. I still couldn't swim, and every jump as I avoided his fire blasts was one which threatened to end it all. None of it mattered. Mica was in danger. The others were in danger. I laid the bones of the Serpent back to rest, and fell to a deep chasm I'd never been in before.

The clone of Zoda had been planning. Within the barren rooms, seeped with his evil, I had to fight duplicates, real or not, of all the beasts I had fought through time. But they'd fallen once, and with the Ultra Psychic Shockwave, they fell again.

I took down everything that he threw at me, and kept on coming. Stamina and the few vials of medicine I had kept me going…

Until the bitter end, when at last, there were no more minions. No more shadows. No more ghosts. It was just me, and the last clone of a monster who no longer existed.

A dangerous clone, to be sure. Perhaps I really was the Starseer. Perhaps I wasn't. It didn't matter, in the end. Maybe it never had.

I was Michael Jones, the hero of the Argonians, the traveler of time, the retriever of the mystical Tetrads.

In the bowels of what had become my home, I fought a final glimmer of an evil I'd long since shattered. He would not win, and not because of anything he did wrong.

I was Michael Jones.

The stars were with me.

---

Perhaps the alien had thought to confuse Michael, overwhelm him by sheer numbers. It was a routine which Michael, versed in hero culture as he was, knew a lot about. The Shredder had used it against Splinter. That old bat of a wizard had used it to annoy Conan the Barbarian. Fill up a room with lots of illusions, harmful or not, and have it so that the real enemy hid within the horde.

One major difference between fiction and reality, he was keen to remind himself, was that he could still see the real one. His quiet eyes saw everything.

"Cute trick." Mike deadpanned, sheathing his katana and bringing up a powerful globe of Shilivre in his right hand. "But I know this trick, 'Zoda'. It's not going to work."

In a room full of squirming, bouncing balls of Zoda spawn, the one that glowed bright didn't bother offering a response, knowing it would betray him. Mike smiled. "Sorry, pal. But I see right through you." He let out a scream and fired his Psychic Shockwave. The bolt of supercharged mental energy blasted the lone true spawn into the wall, where it simmered and collapsed into ash.

The presence of evil didn't leave the room, though. Michael drew his katana back out and looked through the room. "You can come out. I know you're in here."

Lurking in the dark corner, a figure which had been invisible stepped forward. With his horned helmet, his long flowing purple cape, and his thick battle armor and metallic clawed fingers, he was every inch of what Michael had once feared…but did no longer.

"Your skills have improved, boy. You even use Shilivre now?"

"I've been using Shilivre for a long time, clone." Mike countered, leveling the long Japanese sword on his shoulder. "I used it to kill your forerunners. 'X' and 'Y.' Which makes you Z, doesn't it?"

"Call me what you will." The alien rumbled, shooting his arm out and firing a blast of power. Mike swung his blade down, and an aura of white light flared about the blade. Shot and steel met, and the odd sound which powered the ricochet made the monster pause.

"Surprised?" Mike asked, tired of games and tired of nightmares which didn't die. "Shilivre can do more than fire bolts of energy. It can stop them too."

Zoda Z's eyes, buried within his helmet, flared a bright red. "You think I'm afraid of an old fairytale?" He fired off another round of shots, and this time Mike found the better path to be running.

"The Starseer?" Mike panted, making an aerial leap to avoid the worst of the scatterspray. Careful to not impale himself on his katana, he rolled out of the jump and came back to his feet quickly. "The guy you were created from was. And he had reason to be, because I KILLED him!"

"YOU ARE NOT THE STARSEER!!" Zoda Z roared, flashing about the room right on top of Mike and firing a globe of strange energy from both hands. Mike's eyes flared in surprise, knowing what it was. If it hit, it would transform him into a helpless pig, like all the villagers. That he could not allow.

Focusing all the raw strength he could, he channeled his Shilivre into the katana and hurled it point first. It cleaved the alien's blast in two, which angled off safely away from Mike, then continued on.

Mike's aim, honed by long experience of throwing baseballs and countless other objects both deadly and not, was true. The sharp katana, folded steel with its reinforced point which marked it as different than other blades of its kind, buried itself deep into Zoda Z's stomach as it gashed through all the armor he wore. The alien choked and stumbled backwards, his hands clutching at the tremendous wound. The sword was buried up to the hilt through him.

"The Starseer had Ellini." Mike Jones reminded Zoda, standing back up with a cold stare. "I don't. So for now, no, I'm not the Starseer. I'm just the kid who's going to kill you, save them, and be the hero I've always been asked to be. And besides, clone…you're no Star Devil." Mike Jones glowered. "I don't need a legacy to finish you off."

The alien wheezed for a moment, grunting in pain as it ripped the blade free and dropped it, blood and all, to the ground. "Damn you…Inchaben Kyrchai…"

Apparently, some things translated well between clones, as Michael could recall that the first one, 'Nightmare Zoda', had said the same thing to him months before.

As Zoda Z roared and began to transform into a hideous bipedal creature with rippling muscles and devilish form, it seemed that other things did as well.

It smashed a foot down on the katana which Leonardo da Vinci had given to Mike, hundreds of years before, and broke it in two. "No more maces, no more toys, no blades and no mystic throwing stars!" The transformed Zoda-Z roared, throwing his arms out and encircling the room with fire. "It's just you and me, BOY, and you have no weapon!!"

Mike dashed out of the way of the first salvo of bulletlike blasts the alien threw at him, watching carefully out of the corner of his eye. Even as he avoided the first attack, the blurred form of the monstrous clone was whirling about the room, ready to level a second.

"No weapon, huh?" Mike Jones mused, and he tightened his right hand into a fist, channeling his Shilivre into it. The alien flashed in front of him, opening his mouth for another blast.

He received a bolt of his own, a crackling baseball-sized orb of energy that choked off his attack and sent him stumbling backwards.

Wisps of white light rose from Michael's hand as he pulled it back. "I don't need a weapon to kill you. I AM a weapon." He growled. "And that was only the first level of my Psychic Shockwave."

Zoda-Z righted himself and snarled, hurling a line of fire towards the boy. Again, Michael simply rolled away and readied another blast. The locus of white light around his hand increased, stretching up to his arm. "Now what happens when we slap you around with a level TWO?!"

Zoda came at him like a deadly top, claws and tail extended out to slice away at him. The boy turned and ran away, his strong legs clearing the distance faster than Zoda could spin. A quick blast bounced off of the whirling supervillain, unable to penetrate the attack.

No attack could go on for forever, and eventually Zoda-Z came dragging to a halt, releasing a set of bombs when he settled.

A salvo of five Super Shockwaves knocked him backwards again, and left a patch of crackling smoke to rise up from his chest. His bombs exploded off target, and in the clearing smoke, Michael Jones still stood, glowing bright white.

"Impossible…" Zoda-Z rasped, hurling another splash of energy bolts.

This time, the boy didn't move. He held his hand up, palm facing outwards, and his aura glowed all the brighter. The blasts that hit him dissipated harmlessly, and the rest flew around him.

"Nothing is impossible." Mike answered, and his hand glowed white hot, blindingly bright. "Aliens came to ancient earth. An exile became a space invader. A kid fulfilled a prophecy thousands of years old. A weapon from the stars came and went. And evil made duplicates to harass those who did not deserve it."

The blast Mike fired off was larger than any other Zoda had seen, and it burned so terribly when it hit that the beast roared and his armorlike skin bubbled.

"And most importantly…A hero can triumph over the shadows of his past."

Zoda-Z tried to run. He couldn't. He tried to jar Mike loose with flame and blast and spin, but nothing worked. In the end, all he could do was scream out in pain and rage as the hero of Argonia three times over immolated him in mental fire, the Ultra Shockwave that Merlin himself had taught him.

In the end, Zoda-Z died like the others all had. Without a final retort, without a sharp quip, and without ceremony. He died as he lived; empty and burning with nothing but darkness.

In the stillness that followed, Mike's aura subsided away, and his emotions calmed themselves to a flat plateau. He looked on to the charred, unmoving corpse of Zodus' last legacy, and knew that at last, it was done.

"Game over." He whispered, walking to his broken katana and carefully tucking the pieces back into its sheath.

Beyond Zoda-Z, beyond the final chamber, through one last tunnel, Michael Jones found what he had spent centuries trying to get back to. As the Argonian children cheered and looked on, he swept up Seremichaela Argos into his arms and spun her about. The laughter and cries of relief carried them all to peace, and even Ezilian, leaning back against the wall and watching with folded arms, smiled.

"You did it." Princess Mica whispered, holding him close.

Ragged, bedraggled, and worn out, Michael had never looked so beautiful to her. The boy she loved smiled back, tracing a thumb along the long curve of her ear.

"I told you I'd come back."

"You could have made it back sooner." Giskard, ever the pragmatist, quipped with a grumble.

Princess and hero ignored the comment, for as their lips met in a kiss long missed, there were more important things to think about.

Michael Jones was home again.

---

Michael

When the final Zoda clone died, whatever he'd done to the inhabitants of Coralcola died with him. Amethyst, Rozyln, Giskard, Ezilian, Marlin, Bakusian, Mica and I emerged from the depths of the caverns to cheers and relieved celebration. Back to their normal selves, the villagers welcomed us back…and welcomed me as a champion again, despite my protesting. My Uncle Steve pulled me aside for a bit, and the Argonians ran on ahead towards Chief Omoy's hut.

My disappearance from Seattle hadn't gone unnoticed, Uncle Steve told me. My parents had been worried sick, and as far as they knew, I'd been kidnapped, or worse. I'd have to go back, he told me, and I knew he was right.

I just wish that there was a better excuse we could offer besides that I skipped town, 'borrowed' some money from my Uncle, and hopped a flight to Hawaii and a helicopter to Coralcola after that. Of course, the only other excuse either of us could think of was the truth…And both of us agreed, as we'd done countless times before, that the truth of our misadventures on Coralcola was the one thing we could never share.

It meant that when Uncle Steve and I got back home to Seattle, I'd be in for a serious grounding. The flipside, he told me as he offered a reassuring smile, was that the next summer when he and I came back to Coralcola, I wouldn't have to save the day again. And of course, as I found myself telling him, Mica was worth it. She was worth everything. He waved me off and turned back for his laboratory, presumably to make the phone call which would let my parents know I was alive and well.

As for me…I went to the Chief's hut, to catch up to the others.

It was time to figure out what exactly the Tetrads held. "The hope of an entire people," Merlin had said to me.

I didn't know it would take mine away.

The Argonian children crowded about the table, each coming up with a different insight as they stared at the Tetrads Mike had recovered throughout his journeys in the timestream. The geometric shapes glistened with an inner light, quiet but holding some power they all, with the exception of Giskard, could feel.

It radiated the strength of the Argonians.

Blind to its power, Giskard nonetheless was the wisest of them, and it was he who picked up the long piece of four cubes, holding it in his hand with a frown. "This technology…I don't know it exactly, but it is eerily similar to something else I know."

Holding her little sister close, Amethyst shook her head. "What, Giskard? What is it?"

Giskard Rorth thought about it for a moment, then looked over to Michael. "Well, Mike? I have a guess, but I'd like to hear your input."

The baseball player from Seattle stroked his chin for a few moments. "I've been dragging these things around in my pockets for a long time…But all I know is what Merlin told me. Hirocon scattered these things throughout time so that they couldn't be easily found, and whatever's inside is supposed to be awfully important to all of you."

"Hm." Giskard exhaled. "But what are they, exactly?"

"I don't really know." Mike admitted.

The scholarly Argonian pulled away from the table and folded his arms behind his back. "Hirocon always did have a thing for puzzles. The cipher was a puzzle, for sure. Our stasis cubes were a puzzle; only your uncle figured out exactly how to unlock them, freeing us in the process. These Tetrads, my friends…It's just another one of our departed king's little surprises. Only this is the kind that doesn't require translating. We have to put them together somehow."

"And then what will happen?" Little Rozlyn chirped, always curious. It was Mica who found the answer, as Giskard's musings began to make sense.

"Like our stasis cubes…Something…or someone…will be released."

"The trick is going to be figuring out what shape they belong in." Marlin pointed out, scratching at his forehead with his crippled right hand. "Hirocon loved a good joke. He could have set them to unlock with one of countless combinations!"

The island chief, who had been passively observing from the back, finally cleared his throat. "If it's all the same to you…I'd like to give it a try. After all, Tetris is my middle name!"

Everybody just stared at him. Bakusian coughed. Mike finally rolled his eyes. "Lord, I should have never let you play my Game Boy this last summer. It's given you too many ideas."

Hapo Omoy scratched at his belly, which had thinned out just a tad, and offered a sheepish grin. "Well, unless anybody else has another idea, I'd still like to try."

With nobody having a better idea in mind, the Argonian children backed off and allowed him the opportunity. The Chief of Coralcola trudged over to the strange blue Tetrads, picking up the long four squared piece shaped like an I.

"Try to make a square!" Amethyst suggested.

"No, a bird!" Rozlyn chirped, eager to offer her advice. Everybody, it seemed, had a suggestion for what shape the Tetrads were supposed to be in after assembly. Everybody except for Mica, Giskard, and Mike himself, who all stood back, glanced at each other, and wondered.

Hapo ignored every idea that they threw at him, concentrating entirely on his own mind's image. "I feel like I know how to do this…" He muttered, looking a little worried as he turned one of the L pieces to sit on the top left side of the growing shape. "Is this what Bana felt some days? Like something was guiding her?"

Another Tetrad slipped into place, then the next…and finally, he pressed the last s shaped Tetrad home, and stood back from the display.

What emerged out of his work resembled an icon, a symbol that Mike didn't recognize.

But every last one of the Argonian children in the room gasped in shock.

"That symbol." Ezilian stammered, the first to be able to speak again. "That's…That's Hirocon's royal seal!"

Giskard blinked a few times, then slapped his forehead. "Hirocon, you sly devil, you… 'The Fallen Traveler waits in time…'"

The Tetrads began to glow, whining as they shifted color. Human and Argonian alike backed away from the table, which collapsed into splinters under the tremendous pressure that the Argonian relics exerted.

Everything exploded in brilliant light…and there, when it died away, stood the person who the Tetrads had been made for. The person who had been silently manipulating it all, through Merlin, through hope, and through belief.

King Hirocon Argos, revived from his slumber, shook out his regal clothes. His tunic was emblazoned with the same symbol that the Tetrads had formed. The children were silent, too shocked to believe it.

Not until the King opened his eyes, saw Mica and smiled did the Princess let out a choking sob. "Hello, Mica." The leader of Argonia said, and the years fell away from them. "I've missed you." He glanced about, exhaling in relief when he saw the rest of them. "And you all made it safe."

"Your majesty." Ezilian Ranuforte stammered, dropping to a knee. The rest of the Argonian children followed suit, save for Mica, who leapt into her father's arms and hugged him tightly, sobbing tears she thought had been buried.

Mike pulled back beside the Chief, watching in fascination.

"This seems familiar." Hapo Omoy commented, pulling up another stalk of celery and biting off the end of it. "It was only three months before that we found the children like this."

"But it means more now, I think." Michael told the chief, older and more mature than he had been back then. "Back then, we pulled them from uncertainty to a place they didn't think they could ever call home. But this is home for them now. King Hirocon was the only thing missing."

"How did you survive?!" Mica exclaimed, when she could talk again.

"After I launched your escape pod, I spread the Tetrads throughout earth's history." Hirocon explained. "I knew that Zodus would try and find you, and that as long as I lived, I would only be a liability to all of you. Zodus was the forgotten son of Rellini-Uros…a half-breed between human and Argonian." The king's face darkened as he said that. "If I knew what trouble it would bring, I would have left the aberration back at the old Starseeker colony. No good can ever come of such mixed blood."

"But how did you know that you would be all right? That WE would be all right?" Giskard Rorth asked, confused.

"I didn't." King Hirocon Argos admitted, hugging his daughter again. "But as Argonia burned all around us, I saw no other choice. I put all my hopes for you in the future of humanity…and I put all my hopes for my own life, transferred into the essence of the Tetrads, in Merlin's."

"I met him." Mike spoke up, drawing the king's attention with a nod. "A weird guy. Nothing like the books usually write him. Of course, I suppose that our authors never could understand Shilivre." He smiled at the end and nodded. "But I suppose…Welcome. Welcome to Earth."

Hirocon frowned and glanced at the Seattle native, and his eyes flared at the sight of Mike's aura. "You hold Shilivre, but…it's trained. Merlin's doing?"

"Merlin's and Mica's." Mike answered. Ezilian coughed loudly, and the hero of Argonia flinched. "Aaand some help from Ezilian too."

"Just who are you?" Hirocon Argos inquired, genuinely curious of the earth boy.

Mica beamed as she drew up beside Michael, wrapping her arms around his and leaning her head on his shoulder. "Daddy, this is Michael Jones. He's the young man who saved us from Zoda and his clones three times over now…and he's the man I love."

Hirocon's curiosity turned to scowls in an instant. "Mica, how can you say that?! You can't love him, you're betrothed to Ezilian!"

The older Argonian boy blanched a little bit, giving his head a shake. "Well, that's not really true anymore, your majesty…See, while you've been gone, some things have happened around here, and…"

"I will hear no more of this." Hirocon barked, silencing Ezilian in a flash. His face softened, the panic subsiding for rational thought. He sighed and shook his head. "Michael, is it? You have done me…done us…more than we can ever truly thank you for. You saved the children from a fate worse than death at Zodus' hands, and you have eliminated that monster…Correct?"

"The first time I fought him, it was a clone." Mike answered, suddenly less sure of himself and far less confident after the marked disapproval Mica's father had given their relationship. "The second time…It was him. Zodus. I had to go to Rellini-Uros to save Mica from him. Or what was left of it. This third time, I had to tangle with three of his clones scattered throughout the timestream."

"That's impossible!" Hirocon exclaimed. "Zodus never knew how to traverse time!"

"He didn't, no." Mike answered. "But when Merlin dropped a book on my Uncle's lap, and he figured it out, the clones dragged it out of him."

Hirocon frowned, but absorbed it with a nod. "But he is dead then? Totally?"

Mike thought about it for a moment. "The guy you dragged from Rellini-Uros thousands of years ago is dead. And so far I've killed four of his clones…so unless he made some outpost in space which spits them out like gumballs, yeah. I'd say we've seen the last of Zoda." The hero exhaled, giving Mica an encouraging smile. "Which means that all of you are finally safe."

Chief Omoy walked up to the king, offering his hand. "My name is Hapo Omoy. I am the Chief of Coralcola Island. Many months ago, when Michael rescued the children, we opened up our homes to them. You too, are welcome to make Coralcola your home."

King Hirocon Argos thought on it for a moment, stroking at his brown beard. "Sadly…We cannot stay long. We must return to Argonia, and rebuild our planet."

"You mean…we're going home?" Mica exclaimed. "But I thought Argonia was destroyed!"

"Not destroyed." Her father answered, shaking his head. "It still remains, and now that we are together again, we can go back and set things right."

The children cheered, and Mica swept Mike into a tight hug. "Oh, Mike! I can never thank you enough! You've given me my life back, my father, and now my home! You'll love it on Argonia, Michael. With your help, we can…"

"No." The King barked, and all the cheering stopped.

All eyes turned to Hirocon, disbelieving. Mica's face went pale, not wanting to believe what she'd heard. "What are you saying, father?"

"Michael Jones will not be coming with us." Hirocon repeated, his face grave. "He will forever be a hero to our people, but…I will not make the same mistake I did with Zodus. And you, Mica, are betrothed to Ezilian."

"But I don't love Ezilian!" Princess Mica protested, frantic. Her hand found Mike's, squeezing it tight. "I love Michael, father, don't you see that?!"

There was pain on Hirocon's face, but he shook his head, standing firm. "It does not matter. It is wrong, Mica. You cannot love him. It will bring only pain. He does not belong in our world."

"He's not Zoda!" Marlin argued, disagreeing with his king as he stepped up beside his friend. "He's good, and noble! He's not evil, King Argos, and he never will be!"

"I once believed that about a friend as well." Hirocon snapped. "I never dreamed he could be so capable of such acts, but in the end, he nearly destroyed us all! All of you are young, naïve…You say what your hearts feel, your blind hearts, and you do not know the mistakes you cause. I am your king, and I have seen what it can cause. No, it does not matter what you believe about Michael. We cannot ever take that chance. Never again."

The children all quieted back to sullen, disappointed silence. Ezilian glanced over to Mike, who was hurt, who looked like he might cry.

Mike looked back, expecting his longtime rival to smirk, to sneer, or to gloat.

There was an apologetic sadness. A begging expression that Ezilian offered…as if he needed Michael's forgiveness for all that Hirocon had done. As for Mica, she did cry.

"I can't…Father, I can't leave him, I…"

"You must." Hirocon told her, again the quiet and defeated figurehead. "For our sakes. And for his. You love him because he is our hero, but it cannot be. In time, you will heal, and you will love again."

Mike bit his lip, for in her glassy eyes, he saw no glimmer of hope. All the crushing sadness, the weight of her title and her responsibilities had come crashing down on top of her, and he wanted to pull her back to him, kiss every tear away, and tell her it would be all right.

But it would never be all right. Never again.

"We will stay the night." King Hirocon told the Island Chief, bringing about an end to the somber reunion. "I am still weak, and need time to recover my strength for the journey ahead of us." He glanced to Mica. "I can see how terribly you care for Michael. But whatever thoughts you might have, you cannot see him tonight." He turned back to the Chief. "We will leave in the morning, and trouble you and your planet no more. For all that's happened to you because of us, I ask your forgiveness." Hirocon glanced over to Mike. "And yours…hero." In the end, Mike noticed, there was regret in his voice. But there was yet one detail that poked at him, as he brushed away his own hot tears.

"It's funny." Michael Jones commented, straightening up and giving Mica one last sad look. "You're the only Argonian here…who never once thought I might be the Starseer."

He stormed out of the hut, no longer feeling like a hero.

Heroes didn't lose the princess after saving the day.

Heroes didn't cry.

---

Coralcola Island

September 26th, 1990 A.D.

9:28 P.M.

The village was quiet, for the sun had long since set, and the watchman who wandered about under the firelamps was Hirocon Argos' only fellow spirit.

He sat outside of his daughter's hut, guarding the door intensely as he sat with folded arms. Every so often, he would begin to nod off, but he snapped back awake and shook it off.

He was sad when he should have been happy. His daughter was safe. All the other children were safe, and Zodus was dead. Tomorrow, he would take them all back to Argonia with his power, and they could all begin to live again.

But he had no way of expecting all the strange little events which had unfolded. He couldn't have anticipated that a boy from earth would become the hero he hoped Merlin would find. He couldn't have anticipated that a boy would fulfill a prophecy so old, it had become myth.

He had had no way of knowing his daughter would fall in love with him, and threaten everything all over again.

"Having trouble staying awake, eh?"

Hirocon snapped his eyes back open, looking up to an amiable looking middle-aged human with glasses. The man smiled at him, offering a cup of something steaming in his right hand. "Have some of this. It should help."

Hirocon sized up the man with thinning, balding hair, taking the cup. "Thank you. What is it?"

"An earth drink. Quite popular, and used by millions upon millions of people to keep themselves awake." The man said. "My nephew likes to drink it; an unusual quality of his generation. We call it coffee."

Hirocon tried a sip, finding it bitter enough to cause him to grimace. Still, he could use all the help he could get. Between his second and third sip, he placed the stranger.

"You must be…Dr. Jones. Michael Jones' uncle."

"Guilty as charged." Steve Jones admitted, sitting down on the bench beside the king. "I must admit, I never thought I'd be sitting here with you."

"I never thought that Merlin would ever find anybody enterprising enough to not only translate ancient Argonian, but my own script along with it."

"Oh, the backwards writing?" Dr. Jones grinned. "Well, it's not as unusual as you might think. There was a man by the name of Leonardo Da Vinci some five to six hundred years ago who…well, you get the picture." The archaeologist pushed his glasses up farther along the bridge of his nose. "Still, I couldn't have done it alone. Giskard shares the credit as well."

"That boy always was exceptionally studious." Hirocon acknowledged, taking another drink of coffee. "But I'm confused. Given your nephew's…situation…I didn't think that anybody here would be all that keen on talking to me. Least of all, you."

"I'm old enough to understand more things than my nephew does." Dr. Jones commented blithely. "I told him from the beginning that a relationship with Mica was fraught with danger. But as they say…love is blind."

Hirocon closed his eyes. "She really does love him, doesn't she?"

"She does. With all of her heart." Dr. Jones agreed quietly.

"She hates me right now." Hirocon told the archaeologist, sizing up his cup of coffee. "I can't let her see Michael. They're young, they're impulsive, they might…"

"Do something they'd come to regret later?"

"More than that." The King of Argonia finished off his coffee with one last swig. "I trusted Zodus once. He betrayed me."

"You also trusted Merlin once. And he saved you." Dr. Jones pointed out. "How do you know Mike will turn out like Zodus?"

"I don't know either way. But I cannot risk my people, my planet, a second time on the same issue of faith." Hirocon explained, somber.

Steve Jones let out a long sigh, folding his arms and leaning against the hut.

"She cried herself to sleep." Hirocon whispered.

"So you plan on sitting out here all night, just to make sure that she and Michael can't even get the chance to say goodbye?"

"They can say goodbye tomorrow morning, before we leave. There, I can keep an eye on them."

"Hm." Steve Jones mused. He glanced up at the stars, shaking his head. "It's funny how things work out. Your people abandoned Rellini-Uros after Zodus' treachery became known, yes?"

"We abandoned it, and I had every record of earth and Zodus erased."

"Your legacy lived on, in spite of that." The archaeologist pointed out. "It's been thousands of years since then, but the inhabitants of Coralcola, and of all the other islands about it who look to the Southern Cross, are descended from that place. The shaman who lived on this island before Zodus killed her a few months before…Apparently also had Shilivre."

The announcement startled the king, and Dr. Jones smiled. "As did Merlin. As others throughout time likely have, and will…but here, I think, is the largest concentration of that gift. Having Shilivre is no burden, I've come to think. It's a unique flaw, a precious thing."

"Your nephew has it as well."

"Mike?" Dr. Jones elaborated, shrugging his shoulders. "True…but does he have it because of that genetic drift, or does he have it because of the children you are taking back home?"

"…Some of the children have told me that Michael is the Starseer reborn."

Steve Jones smiled. "What do you think?"

"…I think the prophecy is an old myth which no longer has a place in how we live our lives. I do not believe as they do."

"Children can believe things far easier than we can, true enough."

"And what do you believe?"

"What do I believe?" The archaeologist mused, rubbing at his chin. "I believe he was strong enough to do what nobody else could…when your people needed him most. I believe that he's human, yet he was able to master a power that shouldn't even belong to him. And I believe, above all else, he will be heartbroken when you take Mica from him."

Hirocon shook his head. "I've made my decision. Believe me, no guilt you might add will sway me. Not even my own daughter's pain can change this." He stared at Dr. Jones. "And do you really mean to tell me that Michael, even if he did come with, if I allowed him, against my better judgement and the wisdom of experience, to come to Argonia…That he would not be missed here?"

Dr. Jones had to shake his head in the no. "He would always be missed. By us, by his parents. By all those who are his life beyond this island."

"Then why did you try to change my mind?"

"I wasn't trying to change your mind, your majesty." The archaeologist countered, smiling a bit at the archaic term. "I was just giving you the whole story."

He lifted up a warm thermos and unscrewed the lid. "More coffee?"

---

Inside of the hut, Princess Seremichaela Argos lay mute and lost. She had cried away all her tears, leaving only the pain of knowing that she was being torn from her love, and that her father was to blame.

She was older than she looked, she reminded herself. Twenty years older, really, which was how long she had been trapped alone within the stasis cube.

Her hand clenched on the corner of her pillow, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "You were always there to save me before…but you can't save me from this, can you?"

Too awake and hurt to sleep, able to feel Michael also awake on Coralcola, wandering without purpose and confused, Mica lay in her bed and waited for morning.

She was too lost in her thoughts to notice the figure which climbed in through the window, until it shook her shoulder.

The princess let out a gasp, muffled as a hand clasped over her mouth. In the darkness, she turned over and looked up. The hand retreated, and Mica blinked in confusion.

"…Amethyst?"

True enough, it was the girl one year her younger who stood embarrassed in her room. Mica rubbed at her eyes and pulled herself up, shaking her head. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping you." Amethyst whispered, making a motion for the princess to talk more quietly. She sized up the princess with a sad glance. "You dressed back in your royal attire?"

"Tomorrow morning, I'll be taken back to our home…And I'll be the Princess once more." Mica answered with a defeated tone. "Does it truly matter what I wear when my life ends?"

"It does." Amethyst hissed, jabbing a finger towards her. "Because the others and I got together, and we made a promise. We're not going to let your father ruin your life, and we're not going to step over everything we've been through."

Mica's confused look was priceless. "What are you saying?"

"Michael is out there on your favorite stretch of the northern shore right now." Amethyst began, shaking her head. "He'll never see you again, and he's heartbroken. You have to go to him…and I know you want to. You want to be able to say goodbye to him."

"Are you crazy?" Mica hissed. "My father is sitting outside the front door, and if I leave, he'll know!"

"Not if you're sleeping under the covers." Amethyst pointed out, gaining a sly look. "Or rather, not if I am."

It took Mica a few moments to realize what the Argonian noble was getting at. "You mean to take my place? So I can go to Michael?" The girl nodded, and Mica's eyes misted over. "Amethyst…How did you come up with this idea?"

"I didn't." Amethyst smiled, biting her lip. "It was Ezilian's." She hugged the Princess close, and whispered into her ear. "Like I told you…We all care about you. And we care about Mike. We can't give you the rest of your life with him, but we can give you this. One last night, to hold close and warm your heart when we return."

Mica sniffled, hugging the girl back. "Ezilian…I never thought he would…"

"Just remember." Amethyst warned the princess, giving a nervous smile. "Your father may be forcing you to marry him…but he's MY man. Okay?"

"You can have him." Mica giggled, wiping at her eyes. She climbed out of her bed, and Amethyst crawled into it. The Princess smoothed out her clothes, giving Amethyst one last nervous smile. "How do I look?"

Amethyst relaxed in the bed and shook her head. "You look fine. Now get to Mike already. The starlight won't last forever."

Mica's transmitted thought spoke the volumes she didn't trust her voice to say without breaking up. I'll never forget this, Amethyst. Thank you…for everything.

In a flash, Princess Mica climbed out of the window and vanished into the tropical fall night. Amethyst just smiled and ducked under the covers, glad for what she was doing.

"Go get him, Mica." She whispered. "Good luck."

---

"The children will be missed." Dr. Jones noted, turning the thermos upside down and wincing as the last drops fell out and got sucked in by the ground. "The Coralcolans had gotten used to them, and I…" The archaeologist fumbled for a moment, setting the thermos down with a shrug. "Well, Giskard was the best assistant I ever had."

"It is regrettable." Hirocon replied, handing over his empty coffee cup. "But this is just one small island. There is an entire planet which needs us…all of us. And that need outweighs the small amount of pain our departure will bring." His eyes flickered to Dr. Jones. "Even a broken heart."

"Michael's, you mean." Steve pointed out, adjusting his glasses. "He's a wonderful boy, you know. You should give him more credit."

Hirocon shut his eyes, smiling grimly. A faint chuckle made the archaeologist wince. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing too important." The leader of Argonia said, shaking off his reverie. "I was just remembering that Zodus' mother said the same thing about him…so very long ago."

The archaeologist stood up, shaking his head. "Do you truly hate us? Do you hate earth?"

The king glanced up at him, a little taken aback before he shook his head. "I do not hate this planet, and I do not hate humanity. I do not hate. I fear."

"Fear what? That we're all like Zodus? Power hungry? Dangerous?" The professor of ancient history pressed, irate. "We're not, you know. And I'd bet that not all you Argonians are saints either. Come to think of it, Hirocon, there is one last question, after everything I know now and everything that's happened, which still puzzles me."

The king stared, waiting.

"If you truly feared earth and its people so much, why did you send the children here?" Dr. Jones asked coldly. He didn't give Hirocon a chance to answer, bending down and picking up his empty thermos, then strolling off into the night.

Hirocon set his head in his hands. "I don't fear you." He whispered, now to nobody except himself. "I fear the dark reflections I see when we meet. Not yours. Ours."

Saddened, he stood up and slowly opened the door to Mica's hut. It creaked ever so gently, and he peered inside towards the bed.

A lump underneath the covers shifted, rolling about in sleep. Hirocon smiled sadly, and closed the door again. Mica was still there.

He sat back outside and stared up towards the stars, wondering why they no longer gave him the same comfort they always had.

Tanelia…Tell me I'm doing the right thing.

Inside of the hut, Amethyst smiled to herself and curled in tighter in Mica's bed, carrying the scheme out perfectly.

Mica…The stars are with you.

---

Coralcola's Northern Shore

10:04 P.M.

He'd tried sleeping, but had found that sleep didn't want to come to him. It would have been preferable, given that there was nothing he could do to change things…and nothing to make the night, slipping through his fingers with the last vestiges of Mica's presence in his life, go any faster.

So instead of sitting around in his Uncle's laboratory, Mike Jones had taken a huge blanket from his room, a small thermos full of coffee (As his Uncle had apparently taken the larger one), and his troubled mind out into the open. He more or less had just started walking…His feet had taken him to where he was now.

With the blanket underneath him, the sixteen year old teenager from Seattle leaned up against the old rotten and dried piece of driftwood which he and Mica had stayed out by so many times before. His thermos sat untouched, for the cool fall breeze that washed by his face kept him awake enough.

He looked up at the Southern Cross, transfixed on that particular alignment of stars. Mariners had looked to it for years to guide them, and when things were at their darkest, so had he.

"It's some kind of cruel joke, isn't it?" He said aloud, to nobody and everything in the same moment. "It doesn't happen like this!" The more he thought about it, the more it just made him angry. It didn't stay long; anger dwindled fast in him, because it was an emotion he didn't enjoy having. Especially not now; now when everything was supposed to be fine.

"Everybody knows how it works." Mike whispered, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "The hero defeats the bad guy. The hero saves the princess, and they live happily ever after."

The stars glimmered above him, but said nothing. "Why me?" Mike demanded. "Why, out of everybody in the Universe, did it have to be me?! This isn't how it's supposed to go! The hero doesn't save the princess just so…"

He clenched his teeth for several moments, and his hands tightened as well. "…Just so she can be taken away from him forever." He finished, sinking back down again.

The lull of the ocean, the gentle roar as the wash came up along the shore and drew itself back, offered what solace it could.

Mike rubbed at his eye again, feeling his voice beginning to crack. "And I don't even get to say goodbye to her."

She was quiet as she approached him. She had always been quiet. Her slender ears, pointed at their long tips, twitched sadly. She had heard every word he'd said.

Somehow, she found the grace to set her hands down at her sides and look regal before she spoke.

"Yes you do, Mike." She said, and the young man who was the hero of her people whirled about in surprise. In the darkness, Mica's eyes glimmered with unshed tears. "Tomorrow, I'm gone…so say it tonight."

He didn't remember who had moved first, but somehow within the time it took a person to draw in a breath, she was back in his arms, clinging tightly to him as he leaned his head down on her shoulder and silently cried all the tears he'd been holding back.

"I don't want you to leave." He whispered, when he could speak again.

Mica swallowed back her own sorrows, stroking his brown hair back. "I don't have a choice." She told him regretfully. "I never did. I told you all along…my life's been written for me."

"No it hasn't." Her hero barked, pulling away to look into her deep eyes. Being able to hold her again had calmed him, but the doubts still wore away. "My life wasn't."

"It was, though." Mica answered, giving a soft little laugh. "The Prophecy…it all came true." She closed her eyes, swallowing the next sentence.

All except for one last thing.

Her heart raced inside of her chest, a fluttering bird that wanted to die if only to stop the pain.

"Because I saved you? Because I did the right thing?!" Mike demanded. "I would have done that anyway, it's what I was raised to believe in!"

"But nobody else could have done it. Nobody except the Starseer." Mica countered. "And if you're the Starseer, then…"

"I don't want to hear it." Mike's voice cracked, his hands squeezing her shoulders gently. "I'm tired of prophecies. I'm tired of being the 'foretold hero'. All I want to do is live my life, and have you in it." His head bowed low. "But that's not going to happen…is it?"

"I have to go, Mike. They need me. Argonia needs me. I'm the last daughter of Sellarus, and they'll look to me to set things right again."

"I know, it's just…" He began, biting it off.

He pulled his hands back, turning away from her out of shame and walking towards the shore. His hands found their way into the pockets of his jeans, and he looked up at the sky. "I should be happy for you. I'm a terrible guy, keeping you here. You belong home, on Argonia. You never belonged here. It's for the best, right? You get to go home and live your life…I get to live mine. We both move on. They need you. But I'm just some sort of twisted outcast. I'm a danger." The stars of the Southern Cross shimmered above him, silent observers. "I don't belong with your people, do I?"

Mica shut her eyes, and the story of Sellarus and the Starseer of long ago, the true story and the True Prophecy, tore at her heart. "It's all happening again." She whispered, hating destiny for being so cruel. "Just like back then, and now…"

Mike turned down to the surf, managing a weak smile. "I shouldn't be making you feel so down, Mica. I'm sorry. God, I'm sorry for all the wrong things I've ever done."

"And what of all the things you did right?" She asked him, sitting on the piece of driftwood they both knew so well. "You'll never be thanked for them. All you've done is destined to be forgotten and ignored by the people on this planet. Beyond this island, beyond your Uncle, Argonia will be the only place in all the Universe which will know of your heroism. Never regret what's happened."

"Is it worth the sadness I'll feel when you're gone?" Mike asked, finally turning around to look at her.

Mica's ears fell flat against the sides of her head when he said that. "If all of this had never happened, Michael…We'd all still be lost. And I would have never met you."

His feet took him back to her side, dropping him on the driftwood beside the Argonian princess in her full regalia. He looked into her eyes, and when she craned into his hand as he cupped the side of her face and stroked his thumb along her ear, he smiled in spite of everything. "It's worth it." He finally admitted, letting the rightness of those words wash over him.

Mica's lower lip trembled, both because of his touch, and because of something else she couldn't ever truly explain. "I won't forget you." She promised, wanting him to know that much. "Whatever happens to me, to the rest of us, I'll never forget you."

Mike pressed his lips together. "Because I'm the hero to your people?"

"No." Mica countered, lifting his chin with a finger. "Because you're the only man I will ever love."

Mike blinked. "But your father…he said that you and Ezilian…"

"Ezilian has Amethyst now." The Princess interrupted, shaking her head. "It was Ezilian's plan which allowed me to come see you tonight."

In spite of himself, the teenager from Seattle grinned. "You're kidding me. Ezilian set this up?"

"He knew how important it was to you to see me one last time." Mica whispered. "On Argonia, he will be my king…But he will not be my husband. He knows that, and he respects that."

"I guess…I had him pegged wrong all the time." Mike determined, only slightly guilty. He shook it off and turned his thoughts back to Mica, which was not only more important, but far more enjoyable.

He reached in and kissed her, a motion she returned for a few moments before she pulled back, nervous.

"Michael…"

"What's wrong?"

"I…I don't want this to be the end of it."

"So don't let it be." Mike encouraged her. "Learn how to travel across time and space like your dad can. Come back. I'll be waiting here…Every summer, I promise you, I'll be right here. Waiting for you to come back." His hands found hers. "I don't want it to end, either." He told her, his voice deathly quiet. "You're too important to me. And you know how to make it back, don't you?"

The princess blinked, unsure. Mike's captivating grin pushed aside her doubts as he told her the answer.

"Just follow the Southern Cross. As long as you let the stars guide you…you'll always find your way back to me."

"Why is that, Michael?" She asked, needing to hear the answer.

The teenager from Seattle thought it over for a moment. "Love conquers all?"

She snorted at that, and Mike chuckled. "Right, right. I thought that one was kind of stupid too. How about this one then? It's something Bana used to say. 'The stars are with you.'"

Princess Mica laughed at that, brushing another tear away. "You know, she used to say something else too. 'Only the stars know for sure.'"

"Then I'll give you something else to know, when you're gone." Mike countered, kissing the tip of her nose with tender care. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, Mica. And even if you weren't the Princess, and I wasn't your hero…I'd still love you."

It must have been the right thing to say, because her eyes glimmered anew, and she pulled him into another kiss…Somehow, he thought, fiercer and more urgent than all the others they'd shared in their short blissful time together.

Slowly, she eased herself off of the driftwood, and onto the blanket, and pulled him down with her. Lost in the moment, Mike went with it, until he realized that her trembling hands were guiding his to places they'd never been.

"Mica…" He gasped, afraid and unsure. He was nobody's fool; he knew where this was leading, and his rationality kicked in. "I don't know if we should…"

Underneath him, biting her lip and smiling that sweet smile she had when she was worried about nothing else, and everything seemed right, Princess Seremichaela Argos shook her head. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure. The others have risked everything to give me this last chance to say goodbye to you. Tomorrow…This dream ends, and my life begins." The smile vanished, and a pleading stare reached up to him as her left hand caressed the side of his face. "Please, Michael. I can't give you eternity, but I can give you this."

"If you're doing this just for me, you don't have to…"

"I want it." She interrupted, blinking her eyes shut tightly for a long moment. Determination shone when she looked back up at him. "I love you, more than you'll ever know. Let me remember this moment…this endless night with you. Let me feel loved, truly loved, for the first and last time." Her lower lip trembled, hesitating before she sniffled and spoke again. "Please."

His heart broke all over again, but she was there to pick up the pieces. In the quiet, perfect tropical night, Princess and hero abandoned all their titles, all their doubts, and all of their fears of what tomorrow and the rest of their lives would bring.

In that quiet moment, stretched out over an eternity, they lived together.

The stars were with them.

---

Coralcola Island

September 27th, 1990 A.D.

9:03 A.M.

There was unmistakable tension in the air as the Argonians prepared to depart. Bakusian sniffled as the Coralcolan family he'd been staying with gave him their best cookware, asking him to use it when he got back home. Rozlyn was little, and didn't remember much about Argonia. Afraid, she clung to Amethyst's leg, being forced to rely on the more accurate memories of her sister.

Dr. Jones held out a bookbag towards Giskard, giving the studious and always serious youth a knowing smile. "Some light reading from my library. It's not much…The collected works of Charles Dickens, a substandard textbook on earth's world history, a reference guide to earth mythology and folklore, a copy of…"

"It's enough." The boy interrupted, cracking an honest smile as he slung the backpack over his shoulders. "I just wish there's something I could give you."

"You taught me a dead language." Dr. Jones reminded the boy, folding his hands. "That, and all the reference notes both here and in Seattle are more than enough. Be well, Giskard Rorth…never stop learning."

Ezilian stood off to the side by King Hirocon, silently observing the farewells and goodbyes. The middle-aged ruler of all Argonia pursed his lips, sizing up the youth who was betrothed to his daughter.

"Why aren't you saying farewell like the others?"

Ezilian folded his arms, and offered the king a wan smile. "There's nobody here to say goodbye to. Everybody I care about is coming with."

"You don't even wish to say goodbye to Michael Jones?" Hirocon pressed, curious. Ezilian's eyes flickered towards the 'hero of Argonia', standing over by Marlin. Mike seemed sad…but curiously optimistic, for a reason the king could not fathom.

Ezilian kept his grin to himself and shook his head. "I've done enough for him. There's nothing else to be said." That much, at least, was the truth.

Marlin fingered the baseball that Mike had given him. "I'll try not to lose it." He joked. The baseball pitcher nodded in approval, grinning.

"Southpaw. You'll do fine. And you'll keep practicing, right?"

"The way I figure it, Argonia needs a new game." Marlin smiled, catching the sewn sphere after tossing it up in the air. "I told you we had a game like baseball back home…but believe me, I think your 'pasttime' blows ours out of the water. I may not be the most important noble, but if they're going to remember the name Dellin, it'll be because I got them to start playing baseball."

"Good luck." Mike exhaled, holding out his hand. "And keep smiling, Marlin. It's what I've always liked most about you."

In the midst of the chaos, Princess Mica slipped soundlessly out of Bana Omoy's hut, quiet and regal as she walked into the village clearing.

Dr. Jones, who stood beside the Island Chief at the far side, wasn't at all surprised to see the girl walk towards Michael. They fell into each other's arms again, hugging tightly before he laid a tender kiss across her brow. She arched her head up and pulled him down for a deeper kiss, longing and fraught with memories.

She pulled back, holding his hands in hers. "So this is it then." He commented, not really sure what to say.

The Princess bit her lip. "Never forget me."

"I could never forget you."

Mica was about to speak when she felt her father's watchful gaze fall over them. "Hurry, Mica. I'll need your help for the transference…Taking us all will be draining as it is!" He called out, wishing to shorten the sorrowful farewell as much as possible.

"Every summer." Mike promised, his sentences coming out jumbled and confused as their last moments faded into dust. "I'll be right here. Waiting."

Her eyes misted over a second time, but she did not cry. Nor was she sad.

There was a happiness in Mica that Mike couldn't place, which nobody who knew of the tragedy of their doomed love could place. In spite of all which was wrong, she smiled and brushed her fingers along the side of his face.

"There was one last part to the Prophecy I never told anyone." She whispered, drawing him close so she could speak directly into his ear. "It's how I know you're the Starseer…and how I know that I truly am the last daughter of Sellarus."

A confused Mike stood there, holding her close and pressing his hands against the glossy fabric of her royal vestments.

"The Prophecy said that the Starseer reborn would find the reincarnation of Sellarus…and they would bring new life to Argonia."

She pulled away from him, a certain knowing in her eyes which her love did not share. Mike blinked, not knowing what exactly to think…

She pushed his thoughts aside with one last kiss. "I'll always remember." She told him softly, and then her hair whirled about her, and she was walking towards the others.

"Go in peace." Hapo Omoy announced solemnly, lifting his hand in some kind of prayer. "May the Southern Cross watch over all of you in your journey."

Hirocon and the others nodded with assorted looks; some sad, some excited, some unsure, and Hirocon himself steadfastly unreadable.

Mica's curious knowing smile stayed locked on to Mike, even as she brushed aside her last tear, and deliberately let it fall from her finger to the ground.

Hirocon growled a low incantation, a more deliberate, more controlled chant which caused all the Argonians to glow. Mica closed her eyes, as did Ezilian, and they began to focus and channel their own powers into the king.

In a flash of light, the eight Argonians became eight beams of luminescent energy, which shot off out and away, across the sea and up into the sky, vanishing in seconds.

Mike closed his eyes, not moving, not really doing anything until his uncle walked up to him and set his hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"Come on, Mike." Dr. Jones said, offering a sympathetic smile. "We've our own journey to take."

"So that's it then, is it?" Mike asked. "All of this…over and done. The Argonians…Mica…nothing but a memory now?"

"As perhaps it should be." Steve Jones exhaled. "Hirocon seemed to think that way. But he could have been wrong."

"I won't forget about her." Mike vowed, a fire within glowing red hot.

His relative, always and forevermore his closest friend and advisor, nodded his head with a knowing smile.

"Then don't." He answered.

Mike still didn't move, though. He didn't move until a full minute had passed…

When he could no longer feel Mica's presence anywhere about or remotely close to earth.

She…they…were gone.

Mike kept his promise in his heart.

He never forgot.

---

The Pacific Ocean

September 30th, 1990 A.D.

1:15 P.M. (Mountain Standard Time)

The toughest part about getting through customs at Hawaii was trying to convince the airport security that a katana was carry-on luggage. It was dicey for a while, until Mike revealed that the blade itself was broken. They let him on with it after that; after all, a broken sword was really just an ornamental fixture.

Mike hadn't really said much since they'd left Coralcola, a fact that his uncle understood. The boy hadn't even looked back towards the tropical island when the shuttling helicopter had lifted them from paradise to take them to reality. Now over open ocean, it seemed that staring out the window was all the boy could do.

"You did a good thing." Dr. Jones reminded him, patting his nephew on the shoulder. "A far better thing than most ever get the chance to."

"I know." Mike answered, using the most words he'd uttered all day. "It doesn't change the fact they're gone forever."

"You know, they're not really gone." Dr. Jones thought aloud. "They're far away, but as long as you remember them, they're still with you."

"If you say so." Mike said, giving his Uncle a weak smile. "I'll…I'll get over it. I kind of have to. Life goes on, right?"

"Think of it like this." Steve Jones proposed, now and forever trying to put a spin on his nephew's predicament. "Some heroes never get to go back to a normal life. This is your chance to do that."

"And what if I don't want a normal life?" Mike pressed. "What if I liked how things were?"

The archaeologist sighed, and adjusted his glasses. "Does it matter?" He asked. "The secret has to stay with us, Mike. Even though we no longer have to protect them, nobody will ever understand what took place. Nobody could."

"That's going to screw up your findings somewhat, isn't it?" Mike countered. "Those old ruins and their history…"

"Not exactly." Dr. Jones smiled. "You can spin things in certain ways, and leave nobody the wiser if they're only looking to verify one truth. My work won't be for nothing. But I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about you, Mike."

The boy from Seattle, returning home with his uncle, stared up to the roof of their airliner's cabin. "Is it wrong to love somebody, even after they're gone, and to never love again?"

The question was unexpected, and the archaeologist reached for his complimentary bag of airline peanuts. They might have been excessively salty, but they gave him enough of a diversion to think of an answer.

"Well…" He began, fumbling with the foil wrapper and grunting, "No, it's not wrong, I think." The package exploded open, and peanuts flew everywhere, much to the doctor's chagrin. "It doesn't happen that often these days…It's almost a kind of storybook love, you know? No, there's nothing wrong with it, Mike. I…I think I can envy you for it. But it's not an easy road. You still have so much of your life ahead of you, to cut yourself off now…"

"I didn't ask if it was easy, Uncle Steve." Mike interrupted, shaking his head. "No. I'll never love again."

The archaeologist picked up the only peanut still in his pouch, offering his nephew a weak smile. "Your parents won't understand that, you know."

"There's a lot of things my parents won't understand." Mike chuckled, and he went back to staring out the window.

A few seconds passed with Steve Jones chewing on his lone peanut thoughtfully before he had to speak again. "Just what is so interesting out that window?"

"I was just thinking to myself…We're above the equator, right?"

"Now we are. We're on our way back to Seattle, after all."

"And that means…the Southern Cross won't be in the sky when night comes."

The archaeologist pursed his lips. "Just what is so important about that constellation, anyhow?"

"I told her…it would show her the way home." Mike answered, not needing to say who the 'she' was. "It just can't show me the way."

Steve Jones handed his empty peanuts bag to a passing stewardess, and tapped his nephew on the shoulder. "Now that they're gone…do you still want to come back to Coralcola next summer?"

The 'hero of Argonia' still looked out the window, his deepest thoughts, now and forever, someplace other than the world he lived in.

"Yes." He whispered. "Every summer. From now, until…"

His voice trailed off into nothingness, and his uncle filled in the space.

"Until when?"

Michael didn't smile as he kept the rest of the sentence to himself. It was too precious a thing to betray, even to his uncle, who had been with him through the best and worst of his life in all the short months that had fallen between May and September of one eventful year.

He had changed, perhaps not completely for the better. In the end, all he'd done, all he had become would have to be kept in the dark. Nobody could know, and nobody could hope to understand it. It made him want to laugh, albeit darkly.

As the bird of steel and flames roared through the skies above earth's greatest ocean, Mike pictured, in his mind, what might happen.

It came so quickly to him, though, it felt as a flash of insight. The power within him, his own Shilivre, seemed to resonate with it, making the hero of Argonia think for a moment it hadn't been an errant thought, but a rightful prediction.

Every summer, he would return to Coralcola, and wait for her.

Every summer, he would leave Coralcola…alone. He was reminded of the strange dream he'd had, back during the crisis with Zodus, of the Starseer who had been forced by his own visions to leave his love behind, and spend his life in solitude.

Some stories shouldn't repeat themselves. He thought, and wished it to be so.

In that, though, there was no silent reassurance. The endless tropical night of his adventure, of his dreams, was over.

It was day.

The stars were not with him.