Chapter 4: The Eternal Menace

"There's nothing left here to remind me,

just the memory of your face"

Lynelle suffered the sight of the seaside village from her distance aboard the Surmising Hope. Gripping at her were the voiceless pleas of the other passengers nearby to assist the Isons with their doom. But there would be no glory for the young Summoner to savor. All she could do was await the fury of Sin's destruction.

It never occurred to the citizens of Ison that the setting sun could be a signal of danger. Never would the Elves settling down after the day's usual labor suspect anything from so high above their midst.

Already enjoying the idyllic sunset, children bustled in mirth throughout the planked streets of the coastal settlement. Friends gathering heralded the onset of the night in quiet talk and reminiscence. The mottled aromas of fervently expected dinners enticed families back into their homes, never to perceive the danger until it was too late.

Stirring of the frail wooden floors finally alerted the tranquil natives as each foreboding tremor sounded alarm in each Elf's mind that something wicked was in their company. In an instant, the evening recreation let out, and panic brought the attention of all to the now roiling sky. In their minds, collected in equal trepidation, the villagers attempted to block the gathering reality. But as the blushed sheen of the sunset faded, the hearts of all collapsed into despair; the eternal menace had come.

Churning imminently overhead, black as smoke, shutting out the bleeding sunlight, Sin's massive form hovered suspended inside the recently gathered clouds.

Ison watched in horror as the phenomenal mouth of Sin swelled through its cloud barrier. The great oviform head greedy to unleash its brutal might, arrogantly gazed down on the terrified village to relish the coming of its carnage. Sin's maw engorged and then pulsated in a dazzling spectacle of amethyst light.

There was not time to bid farewell; there was nowhere to run; no escape from an unkind death; no hope.

Below, they gasped, for a final breathe and agonizing scream. Thousands of pained voices let out from the wretched throngs only to be silenced by Sin's uninterrupted and fatal descent...

It delivered the potent beam of searing energy directly into the center of the defenseless village. In one instant the once pristine and magical tropical town died, consumed in an infernal mushroom of staggering violet flames. Homes splintered and then vanished into Sin's hateful oblivion. Entire monuments of Elven splendor faltered to their very foundations. People grasping hopelessly onto loved ones for a last moment were charred into lifelessness.

Even as the blushed-lavender hellfire subsided, the anguish and pain did not remain in that only moment. Debris picked up piece-by-piece, whipping brutally into the dark sky, pulling along with it whatever bleak remnant; alive or dead. The chaotic pitter-patter grew into the deafening groan of a full-blown cyclone, driving in vigilant intensity, smothering the macabre cries of the dismayed survivors.

Sin lingered moments more until at last it pacified itself with the destruction wrought and then the gigantic entity pulled back into the hiding of its clouds. As soon as the tempest of Sin had gathered, the atmosphere settled back into its natural calm and the winds dispersed. The pieces of Ison carried off by the fearsome squalls fell back down to meet the stilling surface of the ocean.

Sin left, and went far away from the ruins...

The ruby sun still readied to lie down for the night as it came back into sight. In the silence, it shined somberly bleeding its tender rays to lament the recent horror. Those left conscious lingered in painful sorrow beneath the crimson light of the affectionate star, contending with the fate that befell them.

Everything went into an eerie silence as the Surmising Hope eased into the harbor. While the boat passed along bobbing wreckage, Lynelle caught sight of a Mogg Doll forsaken to the uneven swell. It was like the one in her childhood: plush and green, with the dried pikuru seeds for eyes. Already she began reminiscing of joyful experiences with her own doll, the laughter of its play and simple mellowness of childhood.

Her grip around her staff tightened as a startling realization seeped in on her. That lone child's toy shot a gripping stab of grief within her. There was nothing she could have done, nothing to prevent or even correct the devastation. The child that once found comfort in her doll had gone. And so did so many others that day.

In her mind, the terror of Sin recaptured several more times. Each time the hate for it increasing more.

Ari stood close by, but she dared not look at him. She feared that he would see her pain, the bitterness of a Summoner.

Only strength and composure flourished its presence onto her features. She would always remain that way... rigid and alone in her determination. A Summoner produces nothing else. No pain or tears, for anyone.

The Surmising Hope moored itself on the solitary existing pier of the former port after sifting through a sea of waterlogged drift. Though the structure's wooden decking had certainly suffered from Sin's onslaught, its copious remains allowed for easy access for the passengers to disembark. Naturally, Lynelle was the first to be come ashore to meet with whatever had survived.

And surely, there were survivors, straggling still from the wreckage to meet the arrival. As the residual masses drew near, the Summoner immediately took upon her resilient façade. She struggled to brush away the on looking stare of her newest Guardian.

"I am the Summoner Lynelle, from Besaid Island," she spoke loudly, blotting everything but duty out, and always maintaining proper dignity.

At the announcement, there came a sigh of relief from the dismal crowd gathered at the pier. One elf, her white robes still bleached clean, stepped forward to exchange prayer bows with the Summoner. Despite the natural lilac color, her face appeared pallid from the near-death experience.

"Milady Summoner, we feared our friends would become fiends," she voiced grimly, "So their bodies were cast into the water to protect ourselves from harm."

Another Ison, a male, scampered beside the first. "Some of our friends are among the dead," his pitch still quivered from his recent tears, "please help us!"

The Summoner searched the crowd before she answered the bereaved couple. She did not look for anything in particular, but she found answers in the dour and weeping faces all around her. She did not need to be hurt herself to be pained by the wounds upon their minds and bodies. One shirtless boy was covered in bruises where his or maybe his mother's blood did not stain. Another literally crawled his way to be near the Summoner. There was so much agony on them all. They were calling innately to her, all of them like children crying for their mother to nurse them, their sorrow as their dire words.

Lynelle nodded to their earnestness. "If you may take me to dead, I may perform the Sending." It was all she could be relied on to do, but the relief was evident on the Elven faces after she spoke.

"Yes Milady." The female Ison smiled, "Come follow me." The Elf along with the male companion led Lynelle hurriedly down a wooded lane paralleling the shore. Her Guardians, Rosalyn, and Sataume stayed close by their Summoner's side, of course still wary from the attack.

------

Ari at a standstill remained on the boat even after Lynelle left. From that vantage point, he did not feel compelled to leave anytime soon. Everything in the future of Arendia he had accepted without hurt, but not this. As his aching eyes widened to take in every bit of the surrounding, the raw destruction, the mortal pain, he began to tremble in fear. The boy had expected that tagging along with Lynelle, as her Guardian would bring him back home. When Sin attacked Sindar, he awoke a thousand years later; maybe another encounter with it would act in reverse. Or so he believed. That day at sea, beneath the gory sun, his hope that Sin would return him home faded...

Unbidden to his presence, Vanna passed him to go ashore and Ari pulled himself to follow her to discourage being left alone. Very soon, trailing the listless Corsan led him to the epicenter of ruin. Little except skeletons of homes remained, assigning everything else as a desolation of mottled junk and debris and wooden wreckage. The prince was at least fortunate to come across only living people. Even as a few reticently wept in corners of sanctuary, burying their faces in their palms, the majority proved too resilient for his belief. As he tracked the same decrepit path his Summoner already had, he passed the surviving already clearing away the damage. It seemed that Sin's attack could be regular to the people's lives, not as paramount as he had reflected. Like Sin was part of an everyday routine commonplace to the Arendians.

There was so much conviction within these people. Everything was so different for him, the pain, the people, and the entire outlook on life.

He continued forward, still behind Vanna walking at her natural brisk pace. His thoughts fell again on Lynelle, her enigmatic bliss and composure. From back on the boat, he heard something about performing a sending. Again, it was another abstract term of this time, but it intrigued him so, it having to do with Lynelle.

He dared not stop to linger for anything he came upon. His focus rested solely on Lynelle and her Sending. There was a chance that perhaps, by some joyous turnout of luck; Lynelle would "send" him home.

At last, Vanna took the boy down before a littered lagoon where Lynelle and her Guardians stood near the water's edge. About her, the crowds had already amassed. Vanna continued onward to join the Summoner, but Ari did not follow. Instead, he joined with Michelle waiting uncomplainingly on a higher leveled deck away from the crowd's annoyance. His unbidden company did not stir her from an intent watch directed at the Summoner.

Hesitating only slightly, he prodded Michelle for her attention.

"What's Lynelle doing?" he asked, hoping he wouldn't be flamed for not knowing. "What is it exactly she's sending?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders hopelessly with a sigh. "Is there anything you do remember?" Cold condescension from her grey eyes fell upon him. "Sin's poison isn't normally this potent you know?"

Ari raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I'll ask someone else." He turned to leave the pink-garbed girl.

"The dead are cursed with terrible bitterness."

He listened; she had accepted him after all.

"Even in death there is no freedom for their souls. They linger continuously on the living plane, unseen, and unheard," she explained, "It pains them that they have died so they despise the living, and their souls re-surface as fiends that prey upon us."

Ari turned to the ocean and he became conscious of the darkened shapes slumbering in the shallow water. He figured these were the lifeless forms of the dead, wrapped and embalmed in tender care by loved ones.

Shining eerily along with the dead, were the magical surly spheres of their souls.

One soul solemnly emerged from the waters beneath the decking. It passed simply through the medium, mounting to Ari's height.

Ari reached out to touch the living comet, bedazzled by the luminous sparkle of multi-coloration. Michelle intercepted with a gloved hand, gently guiding Ari's back into neutral position by his side.

"Don't touch it." Her calm voice hid her sorrowful disposition, "The cycle of death plagues Arendia," she continued, "the Sending Summoners perform guide the dead away so the living are safe from harm. The mislaid souls must rest until Atonement is fulfilled, when Sin is destroyed. Their rest does not bring them ease. It's sad isn't it?"

Sadness still gripped at the Arendians, regardless of the resilience Ari saw.

"So Summoners are very valuable then," he asked.

"They give hope that is desperately needed."

The Prince nodded that she need not speak anymore, he was complacent with her answers.

On the parallel shore, he watched as Lynelle ceased conversation with an Ison couple using the proper bow. Everyone breathed into silence as the Summoner stepped into the motionless water...

He watched morbidly astonished, as miraculously the Summoner did not plunge in. Her movements delicately smooth, she walked on the surface as if it were a solid plane to her. The ornamental staff dragged behind, wrinkling the liquid as she solemnly advanced to the heart of the aquatic entombment.

There she began to circle upon the water's surface, slowly and silently. Moments passed with only this revolving dance, sweep after sweep of her fragile body. The sun dispensed its hope upon her with its luster gracing every turn in exotic hue. Daylight did not simply spray onto her form, but absorbed well into it, the golden red hue painting her somber face, murmuring through her hair and against her moving body. This handsome and mournful dance drew the sadness from every onlooker. Ari saw it upon every face.

There was movement from underneath her. The living souls within it were being drawn to the staff spiraling in the Summoner's hand. On all sides, they glowed in eerie painted colors as they crossed beneath the water's surface to close in on her. The wind shuddered with them and ignited the flambeaux down the decked boardwalk in violet flames as it passed. The Summoner circled a last time with her dolman sleeves gliding through the ruffled air, bringing her staff high over her before the lights of Souls streamed out in masses to echo the instrument's movement. In that moment, their otherworldly power erupted and thrust the liquid bearing Lynelle upward in a gushing waterspout, carrying her meters into the sheltered air. It was a remarkable sight, her beauty radiated by the compassion of a red sunset and her resolve to end the day's pain, whilst she danced upon the wind, air, and water. With each following spiral of her delicate body, she coaxed the multitude of souls away from the sorrow of their ruined home.

A single tear cut down her cheek as she guided the final souls away from Ison. The lights glittered through the sky as they passed into the sun's exposure, fading away into the hidden stars, to rest wherever the sorrowing Summoner had sent them.

The sight of the Sending was both wonderful and terrible as the abashed Prince watched it from his perch. How could something so wonderfully benign, a mere dance of magic, have the purpose of guiding the dead away? It made him almost ashamed to be captivated by the Summoner's sheer majesty.

Her heralding fountain was already slowly lessening to bring her once more to the floor of the water when Ari finally caught his breath. "It must be tough to be a Summoner," he said to himself.

"Lynelle chose her own path. She knew from the beginning what it meant." Michelle answered him even without his asking. Though, never did she remove her gaze upon the Summoner. "All we can do now is protect her along the way. Until...the end."

"Until the end?" Ari did not understand. He turned to her to explain, "What's the end?"

The girl let out a sigh. "You're really proving to be completely clueless. By end it's when she defeats Sin, Ari."

"Oh, I guess that's right--when she defeats it. Yeah. So I'm guessing you're taking this Guardian thing serious then?"

"There are certain things I'm interested in finding out about this journey. So yes." She at last turned to meet his eyes, "but those things are for me to know. Don't expect an answer when you ask."

That was the last of her words she was willing to give before walking away.

------

There was no way out of the crowd surrounding Lynelle. She'd become absorbed entirely by the waves of her thankful. On every side, people smiled and cheered, adulating "Praise to the Summoner!" in an ascending medley of their relief--that which she had given so willingly to the once wretched throngs.

"A Summoner follows an unerring light, through victory and into destruction." She remembered then the creed of the Fayth she admittedly followed since her days as a youth, "With hope as the golden thread to weave her unselfish saga." Looking out across the sky and ocean, she suddenly felt miserable with the remembrance. Her eyes wandered more, now intensely searching for Rosalyn.

When she found the Mage's soft face among the wild crowds, she rushed unbidden into her arms. She let out in a whimper for the mother figure's comfort, "I hope...I hope I did okay."

"You did very well," Rosalyn said, consoling Lynelle within her enfold. "They've reached the Resting Place by now. But...no tears next time, hmm?"

These thoughts of another Sending startled her.

She wished there would never be a next time: no more people killed by Sin and no more Sendings for her. Everyone stood there watching her. It was strange, and somehow…horrifying. She never wanted to do it again.

------

Night's darkness easily found its way over Ison when the sunset finally pulled itself into rest. As he lay in his bed, his blankets thrown off onto the floor, Ari could see the stars through the roofless inn his Summoner and the Guardians had taken to after the Sending. The natural shining candles processed as obscure sights in his mind, for never on Sindar did he pay heed to them above his gleaming cityscape. Even when traveling amid in wonderful star cruisers, they never had any significance.

Their light fell on Ison with such peacefulness. About him, Ari could not catch the slightest sound of a villager awry, or even a glimmer of somebody's sadness. Had all fallen asleep to forget what woe had spilled upon them that day? He could not believe that everyone had placed what happened aside so soon. In his own thoughts, the sunset's massacre stilled, not to be removed no matter how he tried that night.

He began counting the stars, each one becoming a soul of a different person. There were so many, but they all shared the same sky. One sky; one destiny; underneath one eternal menace—Sin.

Ari had happened into a world connected by a great terror. It saddened him. There was no relief for him to stop contemplating about the heartbreak of this world's reality. He could not sleep as long as the many thoughts of Sin existed in his mind.

He uttered into the still. "Sindar..."

Yes, the longing for his home was a grand part of his restless state. Then there was a chance his father may still be alive, as Lynelle had said, as her father's own Guardian. It made it even worse for him to find harmony.

For several hours, the Erressian prince lay there, gazing senselessly up at the innumerable lights burning in the sky. He found peace at last with their hypnotic radiance that stirred him from his encumbering thoughts. It would seem that almost anything of luminosity attracted the boy. On Sindar, it had been the flashing brightness of its towers dominating the earth and the equal brilliance of starships in the heavens. The Souls he saw throughout the Sending had been marvelous, and now the stars were as equally appealing.

There came a slight rap at the door. Almost he dismissed it as the wind, wanting to return to the stars, but remembered there had not been any that night, not since Sending.

He moved himself from the bed to answer the door, stretching his tired muscled body from the long motionlessness. When he slowly opened it, Lynelle stood alone in the dark of the hall. She was not dark herself, no; she was radiant in her moonlight-esque aura he understood that all of her fair kind embodied in the twilight. Ari was sure his face was equally radiant, him wearing only his underclothes.

He fumbled with his words, his head swooning with embarrassment. "Hi there, Lyn, um you're looking very shiny. He he."

Lynelle giggled, and not at him as Ari expected. She was in fact at ease with his complete incompetence. "I do that at night. Most of us Elves do. I think shiny things are nice."

Ari really felt comfortable now. He even forgot about his distasteful lack of clothes. Lynelle was not different from him at all, a real cheerful goofball, in her underclothes as too: a loose white swing dress.

"Whatcha' still doing awake? Aren't you tired?" he asked playfully.

Her face twisted briefly; in a pleasant way of course, "Now don't get all Rosalynish on me now. It took a long time for her to finally stop guarding my room so I could go out."

"Really? You stood up all night just to sneak in bed with me?"

"No. But I did want to ask you something."

Ari's smiling mood settled down. He looked upon her face, earnestly waiting. "And what was that?"

"Well," she trailed off somewhat, "The star Epros, it is in line with Earrinel and Esteril in what we Elves call the Ewentrimir. No one is in the right mood, so...I was wondering if you would like to celebrate the occasion with me."

Ari looked slightly mortified. "Er, isn't that the self-mutilation custom?" His voice had cracked.

"Oh my goddess no, that's Adantdremor!" She laughed into the night. "I'm not a Drow." Her hand clasped around Ari's hand that hung certainly close beside something else of his. "I promise there'll be no such thing."

Without allowing him a single utterance or even a chance to put his clothes on, the Summoner tugged Ari through the shadows of the inn. Just as him, she was barefoot. There was not a mention of either their step upon the wooden planks going outside. She guided him through the mottled but debris-less pathways of the coastal town beneath the silent herald of stars. It was very dark for Ison had no moon and only the stars served as any glimmer to those alert and about in the twilight. Through it all, Ari made out the mangled outlines of the ruin around him in the murk.

After a time, the pair remained on a walkway all to its own. There were no longer any shadows along the sides of the path, only complete night left and right, but before them raised a huge mass of sable-hued silhouettes strung across the visible horizon, higher and straighter than ever before. Try as he might, Ari could not push away the fear of approaching the wretched-looking formations. He was cold now, his body alone in his shorts desperately calling for the accompaniment of more cloth over and against it.

Ari noticed how warm the hand of Lynelle felt. He moved closer to the girl shrouded in the natural Elven ambience, to walk beside her instead of her having to spirit his weight from behind. He felt warm then, both his body and his heart, now so close that his bare skin nearly rapped against her. The ominous glow made the Summoner pale, but had no affect upon her robustness. She was delicate and long-limbed, yes, but there was not weakness on her sight.

It was something Ari knew about her by the end of the Sending. She had no weakness, except maybe the compassion that drove her through this Pilgrimage. Even in the beginning of the journey, he already understood.

The ground beneath his bare feet changed and no longer did Ari feel the firm wood below him. Grass covered earth gently sank as his steps fell onto it, the apex of moist soil faintly leaving its mark on the boy with a cool sensation. Lynelle led him right, away from the shadows that brought worry to him. She was moving him closer to something, a barefaced curve in the ground, a knoll rising from the mostly flat pasture. It was before this particular mound that the glowing Elf let go of his hand. He became much colder the moment he lost her, as she silently went to examine the grass-covered form.

Lynelle smiled from within her encasing lantern after brushing off some of the vegetation. She revealed a smooth crystal surface underneath. Eagerly she went to continue combing-out the rest of the rooted flora until the entire dome's original face shined beneath the starlight.

"This is a resting place for the Pyreflies," she whispered for Ari. "Do you remember them? They were the floating lights during the Sending." He watched as the mound started to glow, throwing its soft light on Lynelle. He waited for more of the Elf's explanation.

"When a body dies, it releases many lights; pyreflies. Only the light of a person's Soul is sent away to rest, because they are dangerous among the living. Those remaining, the light of memories, of pain and sorrow stay behind. Places like these mounds are built as altars to them because they are precious and deserve respect. Sometimes, we can beckon the memories, to show us things: glimpses of what cannot normally be seen. That is of course, when the stars are right."

The illumination from within the sphere awed the Prince, his eyes twinkling with the white of stars. "What is it that I shall see?" He asked, the desire in his voice trailing into the night.

"There is never a certainty. Together we will see different things, whatever the memories desire," she responded in her sweetness and softness. With a silent call of magic, the Elf gathered her Summoner's staff into her hand. "Let us beckon their powers. Now say it as I, Idin anorith aiel o amal ramamir!"

Ari repeated her Elven words as best he could. "Idin-anorith-aiel-o-amal-ramamir." Lynelle smiled as he finished and drew the staff toward the three brightest stars aligned across the sky.

Now, suddenly the intricate web of flat gold circles ornamenting the crown of the blue-handled rod began to shimmer. It dazzled in burning bright white, flecks of embers searing from the adornment like a sparkler. Lynelle then directed the instrument downward, targeting the mound with what appeared to Ari, the gathered light of Epros, Earrinel, and Esteril. Even more so than before, the trio of celestial lights burned in the plane of midnight.

When she willed it, the light she had contained by her staff shot out in a thin unwavering stream. The radiance moved quickly into the crystal dome to be absorbed by it. Shapes formed within the glass-like form, Ari could catch them, moving at first in a dense fog, and then finally separating into their own individual forms. As they did for the Summoner during the Sending, the brightly lit spheres burst in a fountain out of the place of their rest. The Elf and the Prince were surrounded, engulfed by the whirling orchestra of firefly lights. Most certainly, these oddities were sentient for they danced in and out of the Summoner's hair and legs. She was laughing delightedly, glowing, and holding her staff by the ground.

"Let us find the right one, and together we will grasp it," she said. A smile folded from her lips. "There it is! That's the one!"

Ari had already achieved sight of the wonderful orb certainly larger than the others were. It slumped upward in the air, rising pompously to their level. Together they reached for it; only for a moment did their fingers entwine and eyes meet before the pyrefly gunshot them from reality...

He supposed he was alone when dark completely enshrouded his body. There was no trace of stars above him or grim shadows in the exterior or even the bright lights of Pyreflies anymore. His eyes were completely open; he was just somewhere where nothing existed.

The ground felt smooth, maybe of glass or crystal, but he could not see it. It was chillingly cold, but there was not a wind. Even his voice could not find a way out into the emptiness around him.

He hung there alone for moments incalculable. Then he heard a loud voice.

"Don't be afraid. You're in the right place."

He heard the child-like voice everywhere around him. It was though he had heard it before.

"There are no shadows here that can harm you, for all is dark. It is what we have lived in for all this time: darkness."

Ari looked down to find his hands; they were not there as he searched. He did not even part his lips, but he heard his voice come from all around him. The words were coming from elsewhere, maybe from within him, because he felt warmed as he listened to himself:

"Where are you? Are you the ones who brought me here?"

"We are those who you are familiar with. But then you have never known us."

"What does that mean? Let me see you now."

"Only our voices are allowed to exist, but even they are not a reality. As you continue to journey across Arendia will you be able to recover the pieces of us, and see more."

"I'm confused. I want to know more now."

"There is no more until you bring the light. However, the closer you are to light, the greater the shadow becomes. There are no shadows here. Only darkness."

As the child-like voice faded into nothing, a sudden spasm of air swept across Ari's body. The severe darkness was lessening. Once more, he could make out forms and shadings of the mass of towers to his left and the bump of the dome crystal directly in front. Gradually the geyser of lighted orbs flowed into existence yet again.

Now he was very tired. He did not even ponder where Lynelle was at that time. He fell back onto the tenderly covered ground with little mind to spare. For almost immediately, he had fallen deep into the Elven night's star-studded embrace.

------

Aramis's body awoke with an inviting sensation quite easily expected for a boy of his age to have when his unconsciousness holds the image of one particular Summoner. He felt of such delight remembering the girl, exposed to the divine open air, his bare body sprawled out on the grass for any to see. He was an unmindful (and shameful) teen having neither the decency nor the clairvoyance to understand there was indeed someone there to see.

Michelle (in full wardrobe) hovered over the boy, disgusted with the tactless smile on his face. "This is pure indignation, you know that? All our statuses will be ruined by your folly," she said. "It's a blessing that I found you before you could."

His eyes peeled open at the awakening sound, "Huh? What?" Startled, he scampered to cover himself, chuckling embarrassedly. "Eh, hey there Michelle."

"What do you think you're doing here?" Her voice sounded as though a dog had barked it out.

Ari shivered. "I was up last night and I fell asleep. What are you doing here?"

She sighed with all her breath and rolled her eyes. "The Pilgrimage! Did you forget about that? Now put your clothes on! Here." She threw him a bright glowing Sphere. Ari examined it closely, not understanding.

"What's this?" he said.

"Well, I wouldn't expect you to know this one--I didn't. It's a Dressphere. Rosalyn made it to hold all our garments and supplies for the journey. How else do you suppose Lynelle can go about and change her clothes without holding a single bag? It's quite handy. So do you like my new dress? I bought it from the merchant aboard the ship."

It was funny that Michelle's irritation went down with the subject of her clothes. She wore a dainty pink blouse spruced with thin lace, all with a mini-skirt of sherbet hue. Her boots were higher now, somewhere above the knees, and she had lost the white cape.

"Yeah, it's very pretty—and pink," he said. "So how do I work this thing?"

Michelle did not need to explain to the boy fumbling the crystal ball. Sensing a mental command was all what sphere needed; it was the wonder of Rosalyn's magic. Suddenly great rippling ribbons of green energy spiraled around Ari's body, dazzling her eyes. The Prince held out his arms, and the streamers twirled around them. A moment later, the strands encased him like a mummy, then after mere seconds, they shimmered away, leaving him behind dressed in his usual outfit.