Hey-o, and welcome to my Lil' World of Weirdness!!

I state for the record that I don't own Gundam Wing, or the wonderful characters that will be gracing this story. . . I do however lay claim to Ensign Saratone *again*, and I use him here purely as a replacement for your average Nameless OZ Minion. Other Characters I lay claim to are Faye Bloom, the wizened old man, Chang Xiao Fao Lan, and the Angels.

Let's just say . . . when my writer's block breaks, it's like a dam breaking . . . [shakes head slowly and winces]

Parings: 1x2x1, 3x4x3 . . .. Eh, heh, not that anyone reads up here, but I realised I'm giving away certain parts of my story with these!!

Okay, that's the legal stuff out the way!!

Please ENJOY AND PLEASE R&R!!! THANK YOU!!

Also, thanks to my beloved Bluegoo for her ever wonderful betareading, I thank her for the many hours that she has put in with me on this one, be it correcting my terrible grammar and spelling, or listening to me mumbling large chunks of it down the phone to her . . . You're great, Blue!! Even if you are Commander and Chief of the Apostrophe Gestapo . . . [ducks and runs off, screaming over shoulder] GO READ AND REVIEW HER STORIES!!

Thank you to Two-Mix for the lyrics, I don't own Just Communication!!

//Thinking//

"Speaking"

*Stress/Emphasis*

Writing/Dream sequence

Telepathic thoughts

:: Lyrics ::

~*~

For The Grace Of Knights And Angels

By Doctor Megalomania

Part Sixteen: Clear Waters

Meirin sat down by the hot spring and unwound her hair.

She stared into the pool, and sighed. She felt . . . disappointment, and slightly betrayed. She had really believed that she was the knight and her husband . . . He hated fighting, how could he ever fight against the dark chi? Meirin shook her head, and pulled her legs into the lotus position. She was going to meditate, she needed to clear her mind, and meditation was the only . . .

She frowned as a branch breaking caught her attention. "Who's there?"

Quatrine Winner stepped out, and smiled, "sorry . . . I was fetching some water, but if you wish to be left alone . . ."

Meirin sighed again, and shook her head. "It's okay."

The blonde haired woman smiled and moved to the other side of the spring, looking up at the rocks Meirin had perched herself on. "It's so peaceful here . . . I can understand why you would seek solace here . . ." she dipped the heavy jug she'd brought into the water gently, humming as she did so, "I believe that you are quite the martial arts expert . . ." Quatrine smiled again, "I do some myself . . . and I would love to improve my stance."

Meirin didn't answer.

"Tell me . . . are you angry Wufei advanced while you could not?"

"No." A lie.

"I would be." Quatrine closed her eyes, and moved the bronze jug bout in the water, "I would be furious that I died because mortals had chosen wrong, and that I had to give up my living breath for someone who usually chose to read than fight."

Meirin jump to her feet instantly, "what do you know of such matters?!"

Quatrine opened her eyes, they were deep, and in the shadow of the Chinese bamboo, they seemed to glow. Reflections played over her face as she answered quietly, "I know nothing . . . anything except what you feel."

"How . . ." Meirin's voice failed her and she frowned, balling her fists. "What do you know?!"

Quatrine hummed and closed her eyes again, "my son and I are what scientists call New Type . . . we are capable of some limited empathic ability . . . nothing spectacular, but enough to get by with." Meirin sank down to sit once more, and watched as the bronze jug played in the water; Quatrine's voice a calming influence. "I am angry . . . I am angry that my son must fight. I am angry that he must fight for others. I am angry that his father failed to keep his oath, and that my son lived a lifetime without knowing that he had a mother that loved him. I am angry that I died before his first birthday, that I never saw his first step, the first time he picked up a violin, and discovered that he loved the feel of the chin rest under his jaw. I have missed so many things in his life, I am only grateful that I have a chance to be here now." Quatrine opened her eyes again, and looked up at the fierce Chinese girl, sat on the rocks above her, "you must be furious . . . that you were robbed of years with your husband . . . that he may have given his sacred . . ." she smiled slightly as she made her meaning clear, "*gift* meant for his wife, to someone else already . . . that he was allowed to take your place . . . that he lived on to read, while you died, forbidden from continuing the fight."

A frown crossed the proud features of the younger woman.

Quatrine narrowed her eyes, "do you feel that?"

"No . . ." The truth this time. Meirin swallowed, her shoulders relaxing, "I'm not so angry at him . . . just . . . I love Wufei, I am angry that I never got to tell him . . . that he spent so long without knowing that I didn't really hate him for not being who I thought he should be . . ." she opened her eyes partially, and stared at the clear water, and the bronze jug. "Wufei shouldn't have become such a fighter; he almost lost his gentle ways . . ."

Meirin looked up, and saw that Quatrine was gone. She smiled slightly, and looked back at the abandoned jug. She felt her defences fall, as her mind fell into a soothing trance state. Her only wish, that Wufei would try his hardest.

"I am here."

There was a lick of orange flame as Ryu-senshi entered, his robes of red, with gold swirls and patterns of flame all over them. He folded his arms, and noted quietly, "the Dark Chi grows closer . . . its minions are gathering."

"Then we should begin by welcoming our knights . . ." The smallest murmured, his wide blue eyes seemingly sightless as they wandered around. He smiled and turned to the five waiting former pilots, "I am Jikan no Tenshi, I am the angel of Time." He smiled gently, and nodded to Quatre, "Masa'a AlKair, Sadik . . . Ma Ismok?"

"Good afternoon to you too . . ." Quatre blinked and bit his lip before answering, "my name is Quatre Raberba Winner."

"Tayyib." Jikan smiled, his tiny child's voice replying in a singsong tone, "or would you rather I answered in English."

"Please." Quatre murmured, he glanced at the other four, "I'm sure the others would prefer it too . . ."

Jikan tilted his head, "very well . . . as I mentioned, I am the Angel of Time, I prefer the name 'Jikan', but I suspect you will come to call us names that you will easily remember . . ." he lifted an arm, "you have met Katana, Angel of Mercy and Ogama, Angel of Death." He lifted his other arm, and the falconer stepped forward, "this is Armbrust. . ."

"That's not a Japanese name," Wufei quickly cut in. Armbrust nodded, his voice quiet as the wind.

"I prefer my German name to my Japanese." He turned and shook his arm, the dove fluttering off again, "I am Yaju no Tenshi, the Angel of the Beasts." He glanced at Trowa, "I am glad you are somewhat versed in animal care . . . it will make your training easier."

He took his place beside Jikan again, as Jikan motioned the final one, Ryu-senshi. "This is Ryu-senshi, Senshi no Tenshi. The Angel of Warriors."

Ryu-sanshi bowed quickly, and straightened, "you may call me Konbo . . . it is an easier name."

Heero pointed at Jikan, "why are we allowed to see your face, and not the others?"

"Time is the most honest of forces, more so even than Death." Jikan answered, his young features at odds with this older commanding tone of voice. "Time cannot fool you, and you cannot fool me." He smiled gently, his blank eyes a little unsettling, "do not worry, we have no reason to harm you, we will not lie to you at all . . ."

"Okay then," Duo folded his arms and glared at the little people, "why do you look like Quatre?"

Jikan glanced at Ogama and began to laugh, Ogama moved forward, and walked toward one of the tables covered in shadow, "that is something that Death has that Time lacks . . ." he stopped and looked over at his laughing friend, "The ability to be straightforward."

"Time always runs straightforward, my friend . . ." Jikan smiled happily, "but it is very true, time is more like water . . . it flows in any way . . . but always the same direction."

Duo frowned, "I'd kinda like my question answered."

"Of course . . ." Jikan smiled at him, "I look like Quatre Raberba Winner because he is the Sabaku no Oji, Jikan no Kishi." He smiled further as he translated, "the Prince of the desert, Knight of Time." He nodded, and walked a little way from his friends, into the sunlight, pausing to close his eyes and bath in it. "We reflect our knights' physical appearance . . . because it will make identification easier." 

"Ah . . ." Duo glanced over to the Angel of death; he was sitting now in the shadows afforded to him by the room. He tiled his head, and shrugged a shoulder at Duo, "I prefer the dark . . ." the sunlight distresses my eyes. The small child reached up and rubbed at his eyes, pulling off his hood at the same time. The mask was pulled away also, and the former pilots watched as a mass of chestnut brown hair tumbled into the small child's lap. The tips of two elfin ears poking out from under it. Jikan chuckled and clapped delightedly, "Ogama!!" He cried, "Ogama, your hair!!"

Ogama looked up, his bangs were much longer than Duo's and almost hid his startling purple eyes, they were of a much lighter colour than Duo's and a more prominent violet. His face was that of a perfect heart shape, complete with a cute upturned nose and soft red lips that seemed to pucker and pout naturally. He blinked twice before touching his hair protectively. "What is it with the knights of death . . .? Always with the long hair . . ."

"Kirei." Ogama looked up and stared as Katana crouched down beside him, the angel of mercy tilted his head, and placed his hand under the other's chin, "beautiful . . ."

Ogama smiled gently, and reached up to pull Katana's hood from his head. Like Heero, Katana's hair stuck up in places, was dark and unruly. The tips of elfin ears poking out teasingly from the unruly mop, one with a dark silver hoop with a deep blue stone hanging from it. Katana turned and glanced up, deep sapphire eyes – like Ogama's violet orbs, and Jikan's light azure spheres – missing the black pupil. Heero glanced from his angel, to the two others. Armbrust, the Angel of the Beasts, was a smaller version of Trowa, his hair shorter, and only beginning to fall over one eye. His disturbing emerald eyes stared out warily. Beside him, pale and angry looking was Konbo, he looked like Wufei, but his short black hair was loose and parted in the middle. He sighed, his black eyes already seeming deep enough to fall in. He looked at Wufei, and nodded, "you have a warrior's spirit . . . that will be easy to train, but . . ." he walked toward Wufei, a five year old version of the man. Konbo nodded again, sharply, "you will require the patience of a monk."

"Ha!" Duo snorted, "the Wufei-patience . . . remember the war, buddy?" The braided knight folded his arms, "there was no such thing!"

"Then he will learn it." Konbo frowned, "and you will learn it too . . ." Konbo turned and walked out the room, "come now. It's time that you become acquainted with what will happen within this year."

Trowa Barton glanced around at the motley crew assembled.

Many of them didn't look like they had a brain cell between them. He sighed, at least when he had been alive he had had some of the greatest minds to work with. He glanced away from them, the small outpost they had taken, as their haven was simple, not the most technologically advanced colony in the orbit of the earth, but then . . .

"Morons." Someone muttered behind him, "the lot of them."

Trowa Barton turned and stared at the younger blonde man behind him. The Oz officer had his arms folded, with a pair of goggles secured around his head, pushing his dark blonde hair up. The other officer beside him was of mixed background, and his Afro hair shaven short. The other looked around with barely disguised disgust. "We should purge them." He spat quietly. "Purge them all."

Trowa Barton smiled at these two, taking in their appearances and memorising them. When it came to choosing his underlings, these two would come in handy . . . Mass Extermination was always a good attitude to have . . .

He turned back to the window, staring at his own light blonde hair, and deep blue eyes. Watched a smirk begin to build on his unshaven chin.

. . . especially when you were taking over the world.

Quatre looked down at his angel.

The beautiful young child did indeed look like an angel . . . or at least what he imagined an angel would look like, and wondered if the others thought that of him. He smiled slightly at the idea. Him? An angel? Shaking his head, Quatre glanced about. The courtyard was circular. Sunlight poured down making Ogama growl quietly and pulled up his hood to protect his eyes. There was little growth between the paving slabs, giving the image that this place was only newly built. The stones were arranged in a circular way, spiralling toward the middle, where there were six slabs, each with an intricate drawing, and writing. The sixth was blank, and seemed to extend to the stone in the middle, which was a perfect circle, with an indentation, filled with metal, and symbols craved into that. There was a warm hum from Jikan, and Quatre looked down to see that the angel had stopped again, his face was up turned and his eyes closed. "So warm . . ." he murmured happily, "I could spend every day of my existence in the sun."

"You virtually do." Ogama muttered quietly, as he pulled his hood over his face further.

"Does it hurt?" Duo asked, a little worried. Ogama reached out and touched his hand, reassuringly.

"No . . . it's just a little hard to look at things when they are so bright." He chuckled quietly; "you must know that our eyes are so different from yours . . . so inadaptable. Our spectrum is fixed; we have no way of controlling how much light is absorbed." He made a motion with his hand dismissively, "besides, we both know that night time is the more beautiful . . . when the sun dies, and everything rests with silence . . . anything can move, nothing can lie uneasily. Night time is a time of truth, a time of deception . . . a time to be at your most intimate, when you are the furthest away from reality . . ."

"Death is not only beautiful . . ." Jikan teased quietly, "but death is a poet."

"One of the most beautiful things in existence is death." Ogama turned and looked at his fellow angel, "Another is the passing of time."

Jikan tilted his head back and laughed. Ogama nodded once, the highlights in his hair catching the sun. "Now . . ." he paused and sighed, "you've been to the village we prepared for your loved ones . . ." Heero nodded once, and Ogama folded his hands demurely in front of himself, "good . . . then you understand that the Knights are to stay here, within the walls of the temple." He raised his head to look at them, "you are to sleep here, we do not expect you to live here. You may go during the waking times to your loved ones . . . but you will fulfil your training. You may bring loved ones up . . . but only if they have earned the trust in your heart." 

"What do you mean?" Trowa asked quietly, Armbrust closed his eyes and seemed to drift toward the centre of the courtyard.

"If you hold Quatre Raberba Winner's hand, if he were not a knight that is, then Quatre Raberba Winner would be able to pass through the Gateway unharmed." Armbrust turned, and looked at the small group dolefully. "Understand?"

Trowa nodded, while Quatre swallowed, "uh . . . why do you keep using my full name?"

"I was beginning to wonder what your full name was." Armbrust murmured acerbically, his dark green eyes narrowed as he asked softly, "which part of it is a name you wish us to address you by?"

"Uh," Quatre stuttered a bit, slightly confused. "Quatre will be fine."

Armbrust dipped his head, and Konbo walked forward, motioning the courtyard with a sweeping arm. "These are our personal shrines." Five intricate gates, smaller than the first, led to the five other buildings. Each had the Chinese kanji for the angel's element engraved into a circle of stone, which hung at the apex of the gateway. Each had tiles on the top, dark blue, black, dark emerald, sandstone brown, and blood red. Each with a different design cast in metal, painted the same colour as the gate's tiled top, one had outstretched feathered wings, unfolded wings of a bat, vines that twisted and twirled around each other, hour glasses and clock work clogs, and Chinese styled dragon flames.

Looking at the gates, the former pilots were silent. Each felt . . . each felt a little bit afraid. Afraid of what was about to happen. About why it was about to happen . . . and about why they felt something deep in their chests draw at them. Quatre blinked rapidly, his eyes feeling a little watery, he felt a little comforted as Trowa's warm hand slipped into his own. The taller of the two seeking comfort, and to comfort.

----------------------------

And Now It's Time to LEAVE IT TO DOCTOR MEGALOMANIA!!!

DrM: And now I'm going to do the quickest A/N in the history of me, because I've gotta cach a bus!! This is such a short chapter, I'm sorry!! Longer next time, and I have to admit, the Angels just make me say 'Hobitsesss' every time I read this, enjoy!! Please R&R!!!