The Valley

Chapter Two: Book Barbarians and Somnolence

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon or Gundam Wing

-High Street Shops, Cantina-

For Trowa, Cantina was the perfect location to live. Not for the people (absolutely not for the people) but for the region, the location in itself. While Moribar contained the sandy region of the planet in the middle of what was dubbed the Desert Trail, the Cantina Forests overwhelmed the southeastern tip of the planet. Luscious vegetation cloistered together to create a green leafed utopia. Houses remained perched within trees, walkways of firmly roped wood made for bridges and in essence, streets. The people of Cantina rarely touched the grassy forest floors. Only when the children wanted to play during the Warm Days, market days, and those unfortunate times when the region went into battle did they disturb the velvet carpet.

Battle. That was the one thing that corrupted Cantina. For such a gorgeous country its people were nasty and bloodthirsty. Not all of them, of course, but the majority remained a caustic bunch of aristocrats who loved battle just for the sake of it. Usually the army was used to raid Amilee, the most peaceful of the regions, because they never retaliated (something that infuriated the commanders of the Cantinan troops).

For this reason Trowa usually remained silent, a petty hello or morning conversation with any of those he lived near were neither worth his time nor his breath. Had it not been for the agonizingly beautiful location of Cantina he would have moved long ago, most likely to the Mountains of Cicerone. But Trowa was fine on his own, even out of those who weren't sassy individuals he hadn't found many he'd spare a conversation with.

Books were his passion, his escape from the pathetic population of his beautiful region. With the time he spent not working, helping to expand the 'high streets' of Cantina amongst the trees, he was busy buying books from a small store others rarely even glanced at (thank goodness). Within was a man, his name unknown to Trowa and Trowa's name unknown to him. They'd known each other for years under the assumed aliases of Shopkeep and No-name.

He faced that store now and every step he took toward it caused goose bumps to rise to his flesh. He was excited and nothing made him like this except books. And today he was receiving an especially exceptional one.

It was one of the five Forbidden Books.

Shopkeep, on his journey to Moribar in search of market books on their culture and language, had come across a shady man. The rest was history, as Shopkeep said. He refused to tell Trowa the story, and understandably at that. He entered the store and inhaled deeply, the musty scent of old and new pages the only things capable of bringing a smile to his face. His feet moved of their own accord, following a well known path he'd worn into the wooden floors and mapped within his head. There was movement to his right and Trowa froze, the SMILE all but falling dramatically from his lips.

There was someone else in the store.

It wasn't Shopkeep, that was for sure, because it wasn't even a man. It was a woman. Her hair was long and somehow bright in the dim lighting of the store. A glowing blonde head of hair swiveled in his direction at the halting of his footsteps before turning back to the shelf she was inspecting without a second thought, as though disinterested.

Trowa didn't like other people in his store. The words were out of his mouth before he could pull them back. "What are you doing here?"

The girl had yet to move for a moment, still thumbing through the books. She mumbled an 'ah ha!' and pulled one from the shelf to add to the one other she already held in her slender arms. Still with a dismissive air she turned to Trowa, only sparing him a few seconds of a glance before looking down to the covers of her books. To Trowa's astonishment they read Classical Poetry of Amilee, and Smoke of the Mountains: A Complete History of Cicerone. "Isn't it obvious?" she responded with a raised eyebrow.

Trowa's eyes remained on her books as she stared at him, confused. He'd bought those two books not long ago and consequently he knew why she was buying them together. There could only be one reason.

"You know?"

At first she stared at him with a blank look, confusion written all over her face before a flash of recognition glistened in her gorgeous blue eyes. This was soon veiled by a demure look to the wooden floors, where her foot shuffled around a tiny pebble. "Know what?"

He was upon her in a second, his large hands grabbing her shoulders in a sudden flurry of motion. The emotions he was feeling were foreign and his body reacted on its own; he wasn't quite sure how to handle or control it. He gave her shoulders a slight shake, her eyes now wide in shock. "How do you know?" he demanded, a flurry of emotions swarming through his body. Confusion, worry, anger, excitement… these clouded his eyes as he stared down at her lithe form, searching her frantic blue eyes for answers.

"I-I don't—"

"No-name!"

Both eyes turned respectfully to the old, bumbling man coming to the girl's rescue. His old and withered hands pried Trowa's strong fingers from her soft skin and turned to him with a reproachful look. "What in all of Cantina are you doing manhandling my second best customer?"

"Second best customer?" they asked at the same time.

Trowa looked over to the girl he'd previously been shaking, who looked back at him in amusement before turning to Shopkeep in search of answers. He chuckled.

"He's slightly older than you, dearie, he began buying books a few moons before you. That is my only distinction." He gave her a small pat on the head. "If it were solely based on dedication and love of books instead of income, darling, then you two would be tied."

Trowa frowned. "Tied?" he asked. "But I come here most every day and I've never seen her before."

After placing the two books that were becoming heavy in her hands into a small satchel at her waist, she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at him. "And I've never seen you," she retorted, giving him a testing stare. Then her demeanor suddenly switched, like an off light to on. Her smile lit up the room as she held out a hand and laughed at Trowa's raised eyebrow. "Minako," she said.

The brunette could only stare at her hand. He was confused. Utterly and completely confused. Of course his façade never revealed this, for it remained steady, cool, and collected. But frankly, he could only stare at her hand while his head swam with myriad questions.

Shopkeep chuckled as Minako scratched the back of her head.

"Is he," she raised her eyebrows, nodding her head towards Trowa, "you know, a bit…" she whispered her last word, "slow?"

Shopkeep patted her hand in a loving manner with another chuckle. "No, dearie, he just doesn't speak much." Out of the corner of his mouth he added, "not much of a people person either."

Minako pursed her lips before mouthing a dramatic "riiiight," towards Shopkeep, who smiled at her teasing antics, those which Trowa still had yet to react to.

If Trowa thought he had enough questions cluttering his head, he had another thing coming when Shopkeep cleared his throat, a serious look crossing his wizened eyes.

"Now, about the book you both really came for…"

His two listeners eyed each other, confusion and playfulness set aside, replaced with skepticism.

The book BOTH of them came for?

-Temple of Ashra, Cicerone-

The Temple Virgins had, at the command of the Priestesses, given the Prophesy a cup of hot tea, infused with the sleeping flower of Cantina; Menola. The Prophesy now lay in a room with its paper doors open, leading out to a small garden that overlooked the edge of the High Mountain. Her dark yet luminous hair was fanned out sporadically amongst her bedding and along her pillow, creating an immense contrast of raven and white. Her lovely face no longer looked tense, as it did in her waking hours and even some of the nights when she slept, but now held a sort of childish innocence, a full relaxation.

Today was the Dream Day, a day in which otherworldly messages came to the people of Cicerone through the mind of the blessed Prophesy, none other than this young, raven haired girl.

She'd begun her sleep at almost dawn of that morning, collecting messages throughout the time of her slumber until the sun was in the final quarter of the sky.

She stirred.

Large eyes opened slowly and velvety orbs of violet peeked out from beneath gorgeous raven lashes. She blinked a few times, trying to shake the somnolence from her weary body. She sat up slowly, realizing most of her people would be at the Sun Temple around now. Sure enough their chanting and harmonizing voices floated down from the highest peak of the High Mountain, the streams of music cascading down the mountain in waves of notes.

The cool air came when the sun disappeared over the horizon and the music reached its highest level. The Prophesy shivered and pulled her blankets back over her white robed shoulders. How in all of Cicerone she'd succumb to the dream she'd had was lost to her. In her time alone, she would have begun to cry, had one of the Temple Virgins not opened the sliding door, leading to the interior of the Temple of Ashra.

The Temple Virgin bowed on her knees and tucked in her head. "Ashra ba malae, Prophesy."

Ashra blesses you. If she'd had the energy and the wit about her to do it, the Prophesy would have snorted and rolled her eyes. She vowed for a sigh instead. "You know my name, Majra," she mumbled, closing her eyes and listening harder to the now softer hymns being recited.

The Temple Virgin relaxed a bit and folded her feet under her bottom. Cupping her hands in her lap she gave the Prophesy a weary sigh. "It's custom to bless you, Prophesy, and if anyone heard me call you by your given name then surely I would be released from my duties and punished."

The Prophesy turned away from her, her back now the face that the Temple Virgin Majra would speak to. It wasn't like she wanted to be the Prophesy, she didn't want to be the one who would bring salvation to her people. What did they need saving from anyway? Cicerone was a thriving region and a dedicated one at that. So why—

"What did you dream, Prophesy? I've come to collect the messages for High Priestess Ikai," the Temple Virgin questioned, standing up to close the paper door that lead to the garden, the nights air cold on her skin. She sat back down in the same folded style at the side of the Prophesy's bed, looking at her with earnest eyes.

The Prophesy sighed.

"There was a man," she began, eyes closing so as to envision clearly what she'd dreamt. "He was beautiful, and from a utopian land unlike any of those that curse this planet."

The Temple Virgin sighed at her nihilistic outlook but urged her to continue.

"He said he was coming to Cicerone for one reason and one reason alone," the Prophesy paused for a moment, opening her previously closed eyes. Her lips pursed in worry as she softly continued. "He was coming here to collect the Light of the Valley."

At the mention of the Valley the Temple Virgin's eyes flashed and the Prophesy could tell that there was something that she wanted to say. "What is it?" she asked quietly, leaning on her elbow.

The Temple Virgin blinked, watching as the Prophesy's hair fell over her shoulder. "My, Prophesy, your hair truly is very long." Slithery strands of raven surrounded the bed in a protective blanket around the Prophesy, who sighed at the Temple Virgin's attempt at a diversion.

"You know I'm not allowed to cut it, Majra, and I suggest that you cease trying to divert my question." At first her tone was harsh, but her usually tense eyes became soft and pleading. "What have you heard of the Valley?"

The Temple Virgin sighed and fidgeted with a strand of her wavy hair. "I suppose I could tell you," she mumbled, looking of into space, the conflict of whether or not to do it battling within her blue eyes.

The Prophesy sighed impatiently. "Yes, well, get on with it."

The Temple Virgin pursed her lips in worry. "High Priestess has gone to the Crest for the Meeting of Rulers. Apparently there's been a disturbance at the borders of Moribar."

At this the Prophesy turned pasty white. "A disturbance at the border of Moribar?" she repeated, fingers clenching her white covers tightly. "But that could only mean there's been a run in with—"

"The Valley," the Temple Virgin finished for her.

The Prophesy put a finger to her lips, and pushed a strand of hair from her face. "So that's what he meant…"

The Temple Virgin perked up. "More of your dream, Prophesy?"

But the Prophesy was barely listening to her now, her mind swinging back and forth between her drug induced sleep and her forthcoming revelations. "It's black sand, isn't it?" she asked, still not looking up at the girl sitting beside her, keeping her head low and eyes plastered to her white covers. "The disturbance is black sand?" Out of her corner of her eye she saw the Temple Virgin nod. "When the High Priestess returns tell her to place a travel ban on Moribar. Absolutely no one is allowed to go there."

The Temple Virgin was so shocked by her assertive input that her honorifics slipped up. "But Rei—"

"Just do it, Majra," she pleaded, twisting the covers in her shaking hands. "We have to keep our people out of Moribar. We have to keep everyone away from that black sand."

………………..

And voila, another chapter. I'm not speedy, but I'd say I've got a faster chapter rate than most other people, seeing as how there are cobwebs now growing on this section. For some reason, however, I just can't give it up.

Thank you to my two reviewers Momosa Loves and TopazDragon. You guys are awesome and I appreciate your comments and compliments 

Until next time, my friends…