Quatre blinked. Gorgeous colors and shapes slowly faded and a grayish blue expanse filled his eyes. He had to really consider it for a moment before he realized that it was just the sky. By then other things impinged on his notice too. A sharp fluttering of cloth, the swooshing sound water made, the smell of salt. A sailboat?

The ten year old started to sit up.

"No Quatre." Iria. She was sitting right next to him, watching him. "You had another dream today. You should rest." Her eyes looked big and dark.

"Oh." Quatre smiled at her, remembering. "I did have a dream! Sister you'll never guess what I saw! There were-" She put a hand on his shoulder. It trembled.

"I know Quatre. But you should really should rest. You've had a long day."

He furrowed his small blond brow, "But I didn't-"

"You have. Even if you spent most of it in a dream." She gave him a small smile and it looked funny. Not an Iria smile. Like something bad had happened. Quatre frowned and searched his memory. All he could recall was waking this morning, getting into the hideous boat with Rashid and his sister, the short fight Rashid had put up about the low quality of the boat, the extremely long journey, and then all he could recall was the building that was a lot more than just a building.

That was all he remembered, but that wasn't bad, he'd started having a lot of daytime dreams about a lot of normal everyday things. He probably missed at least a few hours of any regular day. Nothing bad had happened though. Quatre squinted his eyes closed and tried a different method of finding things out. More and more often, if he concentrated enough, he could sort of quiet himself and listen to...to other things.

"Quatre stop that! I said rest!" He opened his eyes and frowned at her. She normally never raised her voice. He really looked at his big sister. Quatre frowned deeper but quickly smoothed his face. Lines mar the face.

It really wasn't a proper vessel for people of his and Iria's background. His sister may have argued that it was perfectly acceptable, but she had still hesitated to step in a boat without a sitting room much less a kitchen for Rashid to putter in. It wasn't made with their sort in mind.

The only actual sitting space was the bench, so Iria was stuck sitting in the little corner formed by the bench and the side of the boat.

It really wasn't a proper vessel for people like he and his sister.

There was only three or four feet separating one side of the boat from the other and instead of trying to stretch her long legs out in an inelegant sprawl, she'd folded them neatly beside her. Her hands were crossed at the wrists and lying in her lap.

Abruptly he noticed her appearance. Quatre couldn't quite help the undignified yelp.

"Iria...! Your clothing...your hair! How," He gasped, shocked "...did someone hurt you?" He knew he looked horribly common, slack jawed and sputtering, but despite the serene look on her face, Quatre had never seen his sister look so terrible!

Her dress was a completely ruined. It was liberally splotched with sand and salt, and wet! Quatre couldn't imagine someone getting water on silk. Never mind that Iria owned miles of silk, it was just very low-class. Her hair was a disgusting mess as well. Iria was the only one of his sisters who'd escaped fathers black hair. She 'd been born with honey blond locks, and though it was slightly thick she had always tamed it into beautiful, simple styles. Now it was a snarled, tangled beast that snapped crazily in the wind. And her skin! Sand burn and sun damage left her normally clear complexion splotchy.

Iria lifted her chin slightly and her expression chilled.

"Well Quatre," she began cooly, " While I appreciate your concern, though I feel I should warn you away from that nouveau-riche sort of candor, my appearance is only a mild irritation." His sister lifted an eyebrow. "And perhaps if I had become comatose and you had been forced to tote me around, then you might be somewhat tarnished as well." She let go of his gaze like she was too disinterested to continue looking at him.

That voice. That was Father's voice. The voice he used in public. The same condescending voice he had passed on to his children. A melodic sotto empty of real thoughts or emotions and full of false politeness. It easily covered things you didn't want people to hear. Anger, dislike, fear. It turned words like 'eat shit and die' into amiable conversation. The entire family spoke that way to outsiders.

Ever since his last birthday when he started 'dreaming' they spoke to him like that too. However he was his father's only male heir and he was willing to bet that at ten, he was already smarter than all of his sisters put together.

In a few years, it would scarcely take a handful of threats and manipulations to change their attitudes.

But for now he had no power and Iria was the only one who bothered with him and his dreaming. He realized that she had probably had the same problems when she was ten. A week after his tenth birthday Iria had given him a disgustingly paltry spiel about 'space hearts'. But looking into her eyes he had dreamed of a fairy. Not at all like the fairies in books. It had been wretched. With its torn wings, scraggly hair, and spiders crawling over it's nude body. The skin had slowly changed color like a chameleon and a thousand eyes, like black marbles, dotted it's cheeks and brow.

It had worn her face.

Sometimes Iria did just seem to know things.

Quatre swallowed his indignation at being called nouveau-riche, "Iria, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry, you just look ...I forgot my manners." Quatre tried a smile.

His sister continued to stare out at the sea and silence stretched for a long moment. Finally she turned to him and began speaking in a less patronizing tone of voice.

"That's alright Quatre, I guess I do look a bit of a mess." Her face relaxed and she gave another odd smile. "I'm sorry for being so harsh a moment ago. I'm just tired, even if you're not," she sighed and seemed to deflate a little, "I'd just like to spend the rest of the trip back with my thoughts. Is that alright with you, Kitty Quat?"

He knewshe wasn't really asking but it was nice that she had made it seem like she was, so he ignored the ugly misnomer. Quatre smiled and nodded.

Ten minutes later he have up on finding a comfortable position on the stiff old board and watched the clouds instead. The sky was a swirling grey tapestry. Dark here and light there. They would make a beautiful painting in his room.

can'tgobackdon'tgoforward

Of coure one should always look to the old before dirtying oneself with the new, so he'd have to-

she's frightenedofyouforyou

look into obscure classics. There was one cloud that was especially gorgeous. It looked like and angel with a sunny halo. Maybe-

fatherlovesalreadydead

Quatre blinked. What had he just been thinking? He rubbed his ears and noticed a cloud that looked vaguely like an angel. How pretty. Especially with the sunlight. Perhaps it could become a painting for his-

Reality slowly cracked away shard by shard.

mindthedarkhe'll eatyou...

For a moment it wobbled unsteadily and the sharp edges sang like wind chimes. Then it shattered and tore the heavens away.

He dreamed.


Her brother relaxed into sleep and she was finally able to look at him.

He was truly angelic. His fine white blond hair fluttered against his smooth brow and his small pink mouth was slightly open. His cherubic cheeks were all youth and innocence and even his tiny arms were cute. One resting on his chest and the other dangling off the bench. She almost wanted to reach out and hold his little hand. Almost.

It was nearly impossible to hold herself still and not start shrieking.

Free from Quatre's innocent notice, she shrank back into her little corner as far as she could. Anything to get away from the...the beast, the monster.

Iria prayed Rashid would not choose this moment to look back at his charges. The thin mask she had been hiding her panic with was long gone and the fear cut deep and sweetly.

She wished vehemently that she hadn't wavered on the island. That she had followed her original plan and left Quatre in the hands of the only people that would stand a chance of containing the horror inside him.

In her memory she saw an explosion of radiance and felt it burning away her body like she was tissue paper tossed in a bonfire.

Iria couldn't control her shaking or the fast beating of her heart. Safely hidden in the sounds of the rushing water and flapping sail, she moaned. Tears of fright pricked the corners of her eyes. She called up more half-forgotten mind techniques to close the memory off.

The boat stopped moving.

Afraid that Rashid had caught her sniveling like a child, Iria snapped her head up and glared coldly at him.

And found herself glaring uselessly at his back.

Rashid stood, knees bent and face like stone. The muscles in his arms bulged as he held onto the...

The sail was frozen mid-flap. The center curved outward, full of wind, and the edges curled and in mid-ripple.

She swung her head to look at Quatre and found his in the same position she had last seen him. But his chest didn't move.

Iria slowly leaned forward on her knees and turned out to the sea. The beauty of it took her breath away. Droplets of water hung motionless in the air glistening like diamonds. The sea itself was a deep blue sapphire and sunlight fell in individual rays of glistening particles of pure gold dust.

Without thinking Iria leaned over the boat side and lay a hand on the water's surface. It was cool. Hard and smooth like glass.

"Oh!" Her voice sounded like tolling bell. She realized there was no sound. At all. Just calm silence.

Suddenly Iria remembered what this was. She was in the space between thoughts.

Clairvoyance.

The only type of vision she'd ever had. When she was younger, they'd crept up on her like Quatre's visions. She would be reading a book, or studying, or even just thinking deeply, when everything around her would gradually hush and become still. Iria was free to move and observe as far as her legs would carry her before the world would start making noises and moving and she would find herself back where she had started.

The island clairvoyants had told her that with practice she would learn how to keep from being fully sucked into the vision and go farther and see more. It had been much more difficult to control than her empathy, and she hadn't stayed long enough to learn how. It hadn't mattered because over time they had become less and less frequent before disappearing all together.

"Oh," she whispered, "I forgot how amazing this all was!" Her whisper left her lips and echoed with a life of its own.

"You still haven't learned, have you Iria?" Toneless and sexless.

Iria's head snapped up.

"No one leaves the Compound." There was no echo. It sounded close and intimate.

She whipped her neck around.

Ramar Nazeer stood on the other side of the boat.

"If only you had stayed my dear Iria. It hurts me to do this to you."

Iria scrambled to her feet and lept over the small boat. "Wait! I'm- I've, I've changed my mind!" She stumbled and fell to her feet before him. She was only a little startled to realize that he felt corporeal in her here and clutched at his clothing.

"Please! Take him!" she cried, "I- I can't, there's something wrong inside of him! There's so much-"

Ramar's face broke into a gentle smile. He opened his arms to her and gathered her to him. "You little fool," his voice was warm and soft, "There's nothing wrong with him. You are just a gnat that flew too close to the sun." He smoothed her hair back. "Of course you can't care for him, He is a god to you." He chuckled, "Foolish girl!"

Iria blubbered like a child, "Yes! I was- am foolish!" She peered up at him. "So will you take him?"

Ramar smiled at her.

"Of course. I already have him." He turned her around.

A figure in black was crouched in the boat at Quatre's side. There was a black gloved hand on Quatre's shoulder and he and the figure were rapidly fading from sight. In seconds they were gone.

A teleporter. One of the best to be able to move faster than thought.

She stared blankly at the empty bench. Then turned back to Ramar.

"So it's finally over for me, then," Iria stated "you have what you wanted."

Ramar looked at her and nodded. "Yes, we no longer have use of you any longer."

Iria suddenly felt ice crawl up her spine. "So you'll let me go then?" Ramar only stared at her.

She shivered and started to repeat herself. "So you'll-"

"Iria," His voice was filled with such compassion, "No one leaves the Compound. Not unless they are acting as an agent or eliminated." He stared at her sadly.

"But-," she licked her lips, "But why?" She almost didn't recognize the pitiful whine as her own voice.

He only looked at her sadly and shook his head.

Iria suddenly head a noise.

The distant flapping of a sail.

In between one blink and another she found herself squeezed back into the corner formed by the bench and the side of the boat. Iria tried to move but her body felt like lead.

She heard the distant sound of waves crashing.

A falling bit of spray tickled her arm as it gently continued its descent.

All around her the world slowly shook itself and began to awaken. The muscles in Rashid's arms began flexing slowly and the sail waved slowly back to life.

Caught mid-way between the real world and her vision, her eyes were still touched with clairvoyance and she watched Ramar, still looking at her sadly.

The air around him swirled sluggishly and a roar built up in her ears.

She saw him mouth something at her but couldn't quite make out wether it was, "It hurts me to do this." or "No one leaves the Compound."

The world came back in a rush of motion and sound and Iria screamed, "Please!"

Kinetic energy rent the air with a violentcrack! and the boat exploded in red mist and splinters.


Jason stood on his rock in the center of the clearing and stretched all the way back. He waited until his back popped loudly before hopping off and into his throng of Students. He murmured all the while, maintaining the shifting waves of low-level hypnotic energy.

As he walked amongst his meditating Students he paused here and there to assist a Student having trouble. Jason didn't really say anything specific, all he had to do was keep up a steady flow of sound aimed in a Student's direction to gently over power whatever was holding them back. It didn't matter what kind of sound he made. He could belch or sing or scream.

As long as it was quite and soothing.

He threaded his way through all of his pupils and worked his way to the outer edges of the quasi-circle. Jason moved past the first student with a nod. The young man's name was Wufei, and he obviously enjoyed meditation for its own sake and was one of the first Students to pick up the trick of it on his own.

There wasn't much farther to walk before he stopped in front of another Student. Trowa. The boy's tall lanky body was folded gracefully against a tree instead of the standard crossed legs position. Which was completely fine because Trowa was the absolute best at meditation Jason had ever seen. The Student had come in on the very first day and gone into a meditation so deep...no one his age should have been able to manage it or come out of it. But he had, and he had continued to do so in every class he had. Jason had been so impressed he'd wanted to move the Student into a class usually reserved for adults of a much higher ranking. Trowa had declined without explanation or expression.

And...ah. The student that should have been closest to the center of the clearing where Jason's power was thickest. Instead he sat on the edge every day, far away from everyone. Student Duo was horrible in meditation. Partly because there was no way to gauge success for him. Some days he did wonderfully, some days he barely managed, and other days, like today, he couldn't even manage to relax. In fact he was bouncing his knee and absently plucking grass.

Jason shook his head, but kept up the soothing words. At least two of his high priority charges were doing fine. For some reason, he was told that these three Students were to achieve extra attention and assistance.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his abilities couldn't touch them.

A transparent bubble of rose-colored energy diverted the hypnotic wave away from Student Wufei.

The hypnosis slid around Student Trowa, curling around his fingers and neck, but slid away with no purchase.

Student Duo... as the energy neared his skin... it ground against an invisible something and shattered.

Few people could stop his unique mutation once he put it into action. No Student, no matter what their powers were, had ever stopped his ability in its tracks. It made himgrin when he anticipated training them in combat someday.

Jason glanced at his watch and abruptly stopped speaking. Time to go. The energy was slow to dissipate, so he exhaled noisily, and then inhaled deeply. The air rippled wildly as his power flew back to him. He took another deep breathe and shouted upwards,

"MOVE YOUR ASSES!"