Bronden has only one line in this chapter, but I think she steals the scene entirely. I can't glance over that line without snickering to myself. Just a little comic relief. Ya know, from Bronden! Yeah! 8D

Also, Alanis has way more issues than she lets on. I seriously delved into her character right before I wrote this chapter, because the problems she is facing here are only the symptoms of a much bigger thing. More on that in the next book. ;)

PROPHECIES. EPIC FORESHADOWING. Both are thrillingly awesome in this chapter, so stay on your toes. Some details that don't seem to matter will come back around to be very important in a few chapters. Stay alert. Don't forget ANYTHING that happens.

2222222222

Chapter 5: Preparations

2222222222

Now that she had a deadline to meet and her dearest wish hanging in the balance, Star found that the things that had held her back for so long had disappeared. Even when she had to write the most intense parts of the adventures, and the fear rose to block her again, she would take a deep breath and close her eyes, picturing the sight of Maris as clearly as she could. Then, she could always find the nerve to press forward.

After that, finishing the second adventure took only a matter of days. She had continued to begin the next one on the same day it ended. The first few chapters were a mass of history and explaining, anyway, and she needed very few interviews to gather the information she needed. She decided, since she was only working on the first draft of the Book, after all, she would write what she could and write it as well as she was able, and then take notes from her other important sources when she finally met them. Then, when she wrote the final draft, she would make amendments based on her notes.

Perhaps, she frequently thought, she would travel back to Maris to work on the final draft with the scholars at the library. There, she would have the time, the resources, and the peace and quiet to make it perfect. The finished product would have to be free of any kind of error. Ink could never be erased, and the Book as it was full of crossed out and refilled words and passages; there were also notes she had made in the margins, and things she had marked to be dealt with later.

When he had looked over the completed second adventure for the first time, Norriss had shaken his head slowly over the idea that she had worked so hard already, and would eventually have to rewrite the entire thing by hand with the pressure of making no mistakes.

"The Zebak have a device for this," he had mentioned. "It's called a printing press, if I recall correctly. Hundreds of copies of a single book can be produced in a matter of days, without error, and exactly the same from copy to copy. I've often wondered how such a machine works, and have tried before to come up with a design that could come close to it; but such things were never meant for the eyes of a slave, and so I've never seen one, and have no idea how it might work. Ah, such a machine could change our world! I wish I could figure it out..."

"The Zebak have a device for everything, it seems," Bronden had commented dryly. "If I had a pence for every time you've whined about it, I would be a rich woman, indeed."

Whatever the stocky little woman had to say about it, Star had been intrigued at once. It sounded like exactly what she needed. She had always intended to pen at least five copies of the Book, because it was a tome that everyone in their world deserved access to, and ought to have at least one copy reserved in case something happened to one of them. The work that would surely take seemed daunting at times, and she tried hard not to think about. A printing press would solve that problem easily, however it worked.

Perhaps I shall have to sneak into the Zebak lands, myself, someday, she thought. Then maybe I could steal a printing press and bring it back for us to use. Or, at least, I could get a good look at it, then come back and tell Norriss what I've seen. Such knowledge would be a miracle to him. He can build anything; if anyone can build me my printing press, it's my uncle.

She wondered vaguely if the Maris scholars might have an idea or two on that. But then, something like a printing press would destroy their whole purpose, and would likely be seen as more of a threat than a blessing. The Maris were more wary of change than the Rinfolk, somehow; she had only just written of that, herself. Would they even deign to use a device invented by their worst enemy?

Probably not. If there was one thing they liked less than changing their ways, it was the Zebak and everything to do with them. It was a marvel that any of them, let alone three or four of them, had become friendly with her mother.

That didn't stop Star from dreaming of a printing press, as she worked diligently on the Book. She continued to work well into the summer, though she had decided to make a change of her own by working away from the house of books, when she could. If she needed references for her day's work, she would stop by in the morning, take notes on what she needed, and then hurry away back to her own house. She didn't want to see Matthew, Luke, or Gregory any more often than she had to. When she did see them, the boys would laugh and call her weak-willed for being frightened away so easily, and their uncle would give her a glare which she swore could melt solid bone. No matter what Violet said, she knew that she was no longer welcome there.

In fact, she had taken to working in the shade of the orchard. Being surrounded by nature had turned out to be as inspiring as working surrounded by knowledge. Also, she frequently saw her grandfather and her cousin as they went about their own work; and teasing her grandfather with her progress was always fun. For all his size and strength, Strong John of the orchard had always played a surprisingly minor role in the adventures. He was a powerful presence in each one, but the fact that he had always found himself so powerless in moments of true need still peeved him to his core.

This was half the reason that writing the tales had been so hard, before. It was hard to picture her imposing grandfather as being so helpless. Knowing that such a thing had happened, not once but in five monumental instances, was humbling. Reading the tales as they were completed, reliving those moments when he had been powerless to help his stepson as he plunged into terrible danger, was inwardly very difficult for the big man. He never would have let it show on his face, but Star knew anyway. Reading the original copy had been almost fun for him, because it had been ridiculously errant and easy to laugh over. Reading the new, nearly perfect copy, was a bitter reality.

But he read every tale that Star completed, and he did so happily, because he was so proud of her. Many people had opposed the idea of her parents marrying; and, shockingly, John had opposed it more strongly than anyone else. It had come from an honestly good place in his heart, because he loved them both dearly. He had guessed that they would face impossible hardships from the people who still disliked them; and many of those hardships had come to pass. He had tried furiously to talk them out of it, and it had dismayed him when they had eventually come to ignore him, even when he begged them to change their minds.

All this time later, he had learned that they were quite happy and content, in spite of the challenges they faced regularly. And he had finally accepted that his stepson no longer needed his constant care or supervision, because he was a grown man and able to take care of his family for himself. John had decided a long time ago to simply be happy for them, and the life they had made, and the triumph their daughter was. He wasn't related to them by blood, but he was their dear friend and meant much to them all. Whenever he referred to Star as his granddaughter, he did so in great pride.

One afternoon, just after midsummer had passed, John nearly tripped over Star as she dozed in the shade of one of his trees. The Book was closed, tucked safely in her arms, and her quill rested discarded on the grass near her hand. She looked pleasantly exhausted from her work, and he wondered if it was right to rouse her. Asleep in the grass, she looked more like her father than ever. The thought brought a smile to his face, as he recalled many days in the past when he had found Rowan looking exactly like this.

But he was unable to resist waking her, for a chance to get revenge for how many times she had teased him recently. He knelt beside her and shook her gently.

"Star, wake," he commanded. "We can't have you dozing off now, when you've important work to do."

Star's eyes fluttered drowsily, pale blue against her dark skin. "I was just resting," she mumbled, not quite awake.

"Here I was, thinking you had a deadline to meet," he teased. "And you said only this morning, you were so close to the end."

She flashed him a brilliant, slightly devilish smile, and lightly tapped the Book with her finger.

"I know," she agreed. "And I did. I finished it."

2222222222

The days leading up to the trading party's departure were filled with particular excitement. Star wasn't the only one looking forward to the trip. Forley and Leah had been going on the trips since they were small, because both of their parents always went, and they counted the days to it all year. Leah loved traveling the free, open hills between her home and the coast, where there were no crowds to get in her way; and Forley had friends in Maris who he looked forward to seeing, as much as his father did. Allun normally wouldn't have gone anywhere near the sea if he could help it, but a rare chance to see his old companions was impossible to pass up.

It was an important year for Alanis, as well. This year, she was traveling to the coast to trade all by herself. She had also been going to the coast from a young age, because her father had been teaching her this important side of their work. However, when he wasn't tending his trees, John was busy with other work as the village elder—he had been chosen to take the post from Lann, who had passed away shortly after Star had been born. A month was a long time for their leader to be away from home, and everyone had anxiously awaited the day when Alanis could go alone in her father's place.

That day had finally arrived, and Alanis was very proud. Also, she seemed quite ready to be away from the village for a while.

"The life of the village elder's only daughter has its pains, as well as its joys," she explained when Star asked about it. "Mother is insistent that I present myself to the people soon, so I might find a suitor as quickly as possible. She says it's past time I leave the trees behind and think to my future. I wish she would stop badgering me about it. Whatever my future holds, it most certainly includes the orchard. Who else does she suppose will care for it, when father retires?"

"It's just her way of being concerned for you," Star pointed out. Her own mother often said the same, whenever Alanis complained. And it seemed like she complained a lot, lately. But it was the only truth there was to it.

"Well, I wish she would stop being concerned," Alanis answered huffily. "She's always trying to paint my face, and pin my hair up, and force me into frilly dresses that I can't breathe in. She says it will make me more… desirable for a good husband. If that's what it takes to get a husband, I'm not so sure if I want one."

Star could see how her cousin would be so distressed about it. Frilly dresses and painted faces didn't suit Alanis in the slightest; and a man who only cared about such things in a wife wouldn't suit her, either.

She could also understand why it was so important to her grandmother, though. Jiller was normally a reasonable woman and an attentive mother; but Alanis was her youngest child, and it was a thinly veiled secret that she worried about the girl. Her older children had grown to become overly remarkable—Rowan was always in some kind of magical trouble, and feisty Annad was always trying to follow him into it. Neither of them were the normal, manageable children she should have been able to expect; the knowledge that danger always seemed to be chasing them pained her, as deeply as their success filled her with pride.

From the day Alanis had come into the world, she had been determined that the girl would never find such extraordinary trouble. There would be no adventures, no monsters, and no magic clouding her life. Her older children didn't particularly need the security of a settled marriage and a comfortable life; they were well respected, even famous, and would make their own ways in the world. Surely, though, Alanis was to be different. Surely, she would be like everyone else. She would take a husband who would provide for her, and live a life of comfort, as her mother had done. As almost every daughter of Rin had done since their people could remember.

Alanis was far from content with this prospect. She was tall and strong as anyone else, but she was different in her own ways. Like Star, she was like a female copy of her father—she was stoic, sturdy, and free in a way that was almost manly. She liked the solitude and peace of nature more than she liked dealing with people. Trees can't fight with you, she said. Trees let you lead them; and if the creatures nesting in them have a problem with it, they find a different tree and leave you alone. People battle you for power; and a husband would demand that you follow him tamely, like a loyal lapdog.

Such an untamed spirit would never suit her mother's plans for her. A respectable man would never take such an unruly young woman as his wife; Annad had already proven this. The pretty little child had grown into a beautiful woman, who had seen many a suitor come and go. Her fiery spirit had frightened them all away, in the end. That same kind of personality was strong in Alanis; for all her beauty, and for all that her father was their leader, she was too intimidating for any young man to brave.

John believed that this was for the best. He believed it would prove a worthwhile test for any boy brave enough to pursue his only child, as it had proven for his adopted daughter. Where Jiller only saw a string of missed opportunities, he saw a blessing. All the young men who had thought to pursue Annad had only done so because she was something of a legend. They had only wanted to be seen with a beautiful hero on their arms; but none of them had deserved her. Dragging her around to show off was impossible, and so they had given up. And they had given up so easily. None of them could have been bothered to be try.

And Alanis was so like her half-sister, John was certain that it would be the same thing all over again. Suitors would come and go, wanting to wed their leader's beautiful only daughter, and gain glory for themselves without earning it. Even if Alanis was foolish enough to entertain such a suitor, he would never bless such a union. His own wife could lament, scream, even beg all she wanted. John simply wasn't sure if there was a boy worthy of his daughter's hand in all the world; and frankly, he didn't care. In the end, it was her choice to make, and he was confident that she would make it wisely. And he saw no reason why she should change to please anyone but her own self.

Besides, she may have been Jiller's youngest child, but she was John's only child. The longer he could keep his little bear cub to himself, the happier he would be. The thought of giving up her care to anyone made him more uncomfortable than anything else, and he tried desperately not to think of it.

It was a lot for one young woman to take from her parents, and Star was beyond grateful that her own parents would never put her though such a thing. Thinking of all this, it was no wonder that Alanis was so anxious to be leave Rin for a while.

I would feel the same, she decided. Certainly, mum and papa have disagreements over me from time to time; but they never get in my hair about any of it. I can't imagine what it must be like, having your mother and father so tangled up in your own affairs, trying to plan your life for you. That would be a peeve like no other. For Alanis, it must be very painful.

She also imagined that her grandmother was probably in a bad mood about Alanis going on the trip, and resolved to avoid the woman as much as she could.

In the meantime, she let her three cousins fill her mind with ideas of the things they would do together while they stayed in Maris. Leah planned to take Star for long walks along the shore, where they would collect the shells and serpent scales that washed up in the tide. Alanis was excited to show her the sunrise and sunset over the water, and the clear brightness of the constellations in the night sky; she said that on the coast, over the vast expanse of the sea, the stars they knew so well had an unearthly beauty. And Forley wanted to introduce her to his friends—one friend, in particular.

"Her name is Iris, and she is of the Fisk clan" he explained. "You may have heard me mention her once or twice before, but I doubt you realize who she is. Or, rather, who her father is."

"Well, are you going to tell me? I can't exactly read your mind, you know."

"Oh, you disappoint me, Star—your fathers are friends, and you just wrote about it recently. You could easily guess."

Leah rolled her eyes at her brother, and answered for him with an excited smile. "Her father is Seaborn, who represented Fisk in the choosing. Do you understand now, Star?"

Immediately, Star's face lit up. "I do understand!" she agreed. "He and papa have certainly remained friendly, in spite of the time and distance that has separated them. I never realized that he had a daughter—or any children, even."

"His family and mine seem to understand each other well," Forley went on, looking pleased to know something that Star didn't. "Seaborn gets along very well with my own father; and Imlay, his wife, has taken up weaving as a hobby, so she and my mother are friendly and do a lot of business together. It's little surprise, then, that Leah and I are friends with Iris. We have played together every year that we have gone to the coast."

"He plays with her, is more accurate," Leah interrupted. "And in recent years, they play together less than they run around Maris looking for mischief together. Last year, they snuck off to climb the cliffs and were attacked and nearly killed by the fighting birds."

"And they didn't invite me," Alanis added crisply. "I would have liked very much to test my strength against one of the fighters. And our foolish friend might have made it out of that adventure with fewer cuts and scrapes. "

"Perhaps we will try it again this year," Forley suggested, winking slyly at her. "Perhaps, we will drag Star with us, as well. Then she can see exactly how fearsome they are, as Rowan did at her age. It will give her ideas for when she writes her final draft, which I think she will like."

Leah laughed shortly. "Perhaps you will… If mother and father let either of you out of their sight. They swore to themselves that you would never do such a thing again, if they could help it. And they also swore that they would keep Star out of trouble. An encounter with the fighters is exactly the sort of thing that Rowan worries about, after all. If she comes back with such stories, he might never let her go to Maris again. And I doubt she would like that very much at all."

Leah was right, of course; but Star couldn't help but be excited by the idea of a short trip up the cliffs. A month was a long time to spend in such a strange town, with so many places she had heard of to explore. She had assured her parents that she would spend most of her time at the library, where she would be far from danger of any kind, and easy to find. She had also promised that she would obey her godparents while they were in charge of her, and that she wouldn't cause them any trouble. However, if Forley and Alanis had plans to do anything more interesting than that, she was determined to join them. She had never made any promises about that.

The day before the trip found Star ready and fully prepared to leave the following morning. It was so close, she was nearly dizzy with excitement. She wasn't too dizzy, however, to sit with her father in their garden to practice with the Earth sigil, as they had continued to do once every week. Her more practical side had thought that it wasn't worth the fatigue it would bring, when she had to rise at dawn; another half of that practical side had laughed that notion away, because a chance to glimpse into the future before such a journey was be foolish to pass up, in exchange for an hour of sleep.

When she mentioned this conflict, Rowan laughed in agreement.

"There have been many moments when I've asked myself the same thing, and come to the same answer," he said understandingly, handing over the medallion with an eagerness that made Star wonder briefly.

It's rare to see him share its power so happily, even with me, she thought to herself. Perhaps he hopes that it will show me something that it's been hiding from him. Perhaps he hopes it will urge me now, of all times, to give up my dreams of travel and stay here, with him. Well, if it does, I'm just going to have to ignore it, and face the consequences later. I've come much too far to just give up now.

She gripped the medallion loosely in her hand, focusing on its cool, solid smoothness against her skin. Her father hadn't even begun to burn the sticks of incense he had brought—she could already feel its energy sinking into her, calling her mind and spirit to wake and be clear.

It had something very important to tell her. Something it was almost excited to tell her. All she had to do was ask the right question.

This is about Maris, for sure, she thought to it. Something is going to happen to me while I'm there. So tell me, small friend, what is going to happen while I'm away?

The words began to boil deep within her, as they always did; and she surrendered herself to their power without even thinking of fighting against it. She just let them flow through her, up from her heart and out of her mouth into the fresh air, where they would be free.

A gleaming pen for writer's hand

Awaits to shape our changing land.

The power faded as quickly as it had risen, and its sudden absence left her feeling drained and slightly empty. The prophecy had certainly been one of importance, it had left her more tired than it normally did. She felt herself falling backward, and braced her arms on the ground to catch herself. She also felt her father's steadying hands on her shoulders, keeping her upright.

"It comes more and more naturally to you every week," he commented, sounding far away in her daze. "The sigil certainly seems to like you, Star. Many months had passed before it was so comfortable with me."

"It already knows me, because it already knows you," she suggested drowsily, not bothering to bite back a yawn. He smiled down at her and pulled her close.

"Well spoken, my small Star," he agreed. "So, it seems you are to find a new pen for your work, while you are in Maris. It must be a special pen, indeed; you already have quite a few of them."

Star smiled vaguely at the thought. Pens were such mundane objects, easily crafted and used; but she had always appreciated how powerful they could be, in the right hand. Without something to write with, her work would be impossible. Without something as simple as a pen, there would be no way to record history, or to communicate with the other peoples of their world.

It was true that she owned several pens, of several different types—most were quill pens that she had made herself, quickly crafted from feathers she had found around the village; she also owned two with sharp metal nibs, which her uncle had made for her. She knew each of her tools as she might of known good friends, for they occupied most of her time, and had been through all her adventures so far with her. She couldn't wait to discover her newest friend, awaiting her on the coast. A friend who would help her shape and change the world.

Yet it felt like the sigil had still been holding something back. That prophecy had felt so full of anticipation, as if it had been foretelling a storm by foretelling something that could mean anything. Star knew from the past that the sigil often acted this way. This was its way of being alive and present in the lives of those who controlled it, to be an active part of their lives instead of just an object of power to be used. The sigil had posed an unspoken challenge to her, by remaining on her mind for long hours after she had used it.

There was clearly so much more to that prophecy than it had seemed, and the sigil had done this on purpose. There was something it meant for her to find for herself, on her own, in her own way.

She sensed, for some reason, that her normally helpful and supportive parents would be of little use in finding this end. So, instead of asking them more about it, she chose to venture off on her own for a while to the far corner of the orchard—to seek the help of someone who wouldn't try to shelter her, and give her the hard, blunt truths she was desperate to find.

Sheba was as much a part of Star's life as any member of her family; she had called the weathered old woman her granny for as long as she could remember, and the ancient Titan had always agreed that it was more than acceptable if she wanted to do so. Unlike the other children of Rin, who knew her as a witch, Star knew her as a friend and teacher, as her father had come to. The woman was such a familiar sight that she had never meant fear or spite to her. If Sheba meant anything to her, it was advice, healing, and deep, vast knowledge.

It was commonly agreed that Sheba was greatly changed, since Rowan had become such a permanent fixture in her life. For the first time in her long and lonely life, she had found a companion who truly understood her—an apprentice, and a friend. She had become, dare the people think it, almost pleasant to deal with. Her coldness had warmed, and her sharpness had softened, though neither had completely left her; it was part of who she really was, and could never be changed.

And whenever Star came to her with questions that her mother and father were leery about answering, a chance to challenge authority and bend the rules was always welcome to her. Sheba liked to chuckle to herself about a time when she had been younger and less cautious, and silently rebellious. The Earth sigil had rewarded her behavior by closing off much of its power to her, in her youth; because of his true honesty and willingness to bend to it, Rowan had already accomplished more with it than she ever had.

"Your father could move the mountain itself, should he wish it," she had said once. "I dare say, he has more power in one finger than I've ever had in my whole body before…" Then, regaining some of her old bitterness, she had added, "Feh, the boy really does believe the tales they spin about him. Foolish boy!"

For some strange reason of her own, Sheba could never resist a chance to put her apprentice back in his place. And in many instances, this stubbornness had worked in Star's favor. Whenever her father insisted that she had worked hard enough for one day, Sheba always insisted that she work a little harder. Whenever he withheld knowledge for her own good, Sheba readily supplied it when asked. Whenever he hesitated, Sheba presented a clever challenge.

They had very different ideas of how to help Star reach her goals, and her full potential. Both ideas had their advantages, as well as their drawbacks; and she knew that she needed both, with all their ups and downs, if she was ever going to find her way in life.

Today was one of those days when it was clear that she needed to take from them equally. Her father had done what he could, for the moment. Now it was Sheba's turn. And as Star made her way through the trees, she had a creeping suspicion that her granny was already expecting her.

She entered the clearing at the corner of the orchard to find it lazily guarded by another familiar sight. The enormous scaly creature called Unos milled in the clearing, grazing on the pale green grass that grew there, not expecting company at all. When Star came into the clearing, the grach raised her mottled head and hissed happily to see the girl. She abandoned her grazing and plodded right up to Star, butting her head against the girl's chest in greeting, and snuffling her all over, looking for the treat she had come to expect.

"I know, I know, Unos," Star laughed, gently pushing the creature off to dig in her dress pocket. "I haven't forgotten you."

She pulled a speckled green apple out of her pocket and held it out, letting Unos take it from her hand and devour it in one bite. As Unos enjoyed her treat, Star lovingly stroked the beast's long, scaly neck. How different life would have been for everyone, without the help of this strange and unexpected creature.

Another treasure of the east, which we now call our own, she thought. First there was my mother; then, there was my aunt and uncle, and Unos with them; and now, we are even using some of their technology for ourselves. In small ways, it's almost as if the people of Rin are conquering the Zebak, degree by degree, for a change.

Leaving a final pat on Unos' shoulder, Star crossed the clearing and approached the hut that Sheba called home. Before she had quite reached it, the door swung open, and Sheba herself appeared on the other side.

"Welcome, dear little Mahna," she greeted in her creaky, ominous voice. "You've kept me waiting, while you played with my companion."

Star smiled down at her in answer, unapologetic. Sheba smiled slyly back, pleased with her sassiness, and waved her into the dimly lit hut.

"You knew I would be waiting for you, I think," Sheba commented, lowering herself back into her chair by the fire.

"Well, you always do," Star pointed out, sitting on the floor in front of her.

"Have you been playing with the sigil again? Tell me of your practice, child."

"It goes well enough. Nothing particularly interesting has happened so far."

"Ah," Sheba sighed, leaning forward. "Not until today, I suspect. Something is troubling you. Tell your dear old granny what is on your mind."

Star paused for only a second, searching for the right words before she explained herself. Sheba was rarely unpleasant to her, but she had never been a patient woman.

"I practiced with the sigil this afternoon, and it gave me a prophecy."

"Is that all?"

"No. This time, it felt like a real prophecy. It was simple enough, but there must be something more to it. If there weren't, it wouldn't still be so heavy on my mind."

"I see. Tell me the words."

Star repeated the words she had been given. To anyone else, it would have sounded like a pointless rhyme with only a few meanings, not hiding anything at all. But Sheba listened intently, and made a very serious face as she considered them for herself.

"Hm…"

"Is something wrong?"

"I believe it is the words of change that trouble you so. They are very uncertain. They seem to speak of a time which looms on the horizon, too far off to see clearly, but speeding to overtake us all. Times of great change have come and gone recently, that is true; another such time will not be welcomed warmly."

Star bowed her head thoughtfully, and a thrill of fear went down her spine.

"I am to play some part in it, this time."

"Without a doubt! You didn't think to be left out of it so easily, did you?"

"Well, no… But now that it's almost here, I'm not sure if I'm… Ready for it."

Sheba laughed sharply and sat back in her chair. "Your father was never prepared for such things. In my mind, it was half the reason for his success. Great plans and preparations are all good and well; but when the unexpected strikes, and all those plans are laid to waste, that it the true test of a person's power. Your father did well, with what little he was given. And how much more have we given you, girl? Stop being so anxious. It is foolish."

Star looked up to meet the old woman's gaze, and smirked.

"Papa was always anxious. And you said, yourself, that he was the only one with any sense."

Sheba was silent for a moment, and then she suddenly began to cackle.

"Ah, bitter logic," she croaked, clapping her hands. "Well played, young Mahna, well played, indeed! At last, someone has learned something from the past."

Star grinned triumphantly.

"It is true enough," Sheba agreed, calming herself, "a healthy fear of the unknown keeps a person humble and alert. It isn't a trait these fools know to respect, even though it has saved them time and again. But caution and anxiety are two very different things, my dear. Be cautious, girl—be humble and alert, for such things are virtuous. Anxiety will cause you to second-guess yourself, to doubt yourself, to fret pointlessly over what you cannot change. Anxiety is a crime which you cannot afford to commit. Not with the future as close as it is."

Comforted by her words, Star nodded wordlessly.

"Your father is anxious," Sheba continued slowly. "Skinny little rabbit has always been anxious, no matter how famous or powerful he has been. And with you due to leave in the morning, he is more anxious than ever before. I will worry over him on another day, though."

"Why is that, if anxiety is such a crime?"

"It is a crime for you, because your time is very close at hand. As for your father…"

The woman was silent for a long moment, staring deep into her fire, as if seeking an answer there. At last, she sighed deeply and settled deeper into her chair.

"Your father's time has only just begun, at the same time as it has ended. He has played his part in our history, and has found his true destiny. But you, Mahna…"

"The time for me to play my own part is nearly here," Star finished.

"We all have our own parts to play. Some parts are merely less interesting than others. The part your father was born to play turned out to be quite interesting, indeed. And so, it seems, will yours."

"Do you know what it will be?"

"Of course not. I am a Titan, not a mystic. However, if it is answers you seek, you know how to find them for yourself."

Star shook her head. "Papa would never let me ask something so complicated of the sigil. He would be far too afraid to let me try."

Sheba grinned with what looked like mischief. "Well, then, you shall simply have to be smarter than he is."

"That could be difficult."

"It isn't a great feat, if you consider it. Never in my life have I met such a brilliant idiot as your father. If you are really desperate for answers, you will find a way."

Star lowered her head again, not sure what else there was to say. She certainly wasn't about to steal the Earth sigil, even for only a few minutes, for a mere peek at the future. All the same, knowing that her destiny was so close that it was nearly hunting her was frightening. She suddenly couldn't help but feel a little anxious. There was no way she would be prepared for it, when it found her.

"You are still fretting," Sheba snapped suddenly. "Stop that at once! You have a long journey ahead of you, and you need your wits about you. Think to the morning. Be excited instead of fearful. Worrying will do you no good, now will it?"

"No, I guess it won't," Star agreed, climbing to her feet. "Thank you for listening, granny."

"You have thoughts worth listening to, girl. It is refreshing to me. I shall miss sharing these moments with you, while you are away."

"I'll miss them, too."

Sheba's face turned thoughtful again, and she glanced toward the door. "Your parents have begun to wonder where you've gone. Best to return home, and rest as much as you can before your journey. Your practice has left you tired and uneasy; let a long and peaceful sleep ease your mind."

"I shall rest as peacefully as I can, I promise."

Satisfied, Sheba nodded and waved her hand toward the door. "Good fortune, and safe travels, then. We shall meet again, upon your return. I expect to hear fantastic tales from you, Mahna."

"They will be the most fantastic," Star grinned back. "I promise that, too."

2222222222

Afterthoughts…

2222222222

I'm guessing you're all wondering why Sheba calls her Mahna, instead of Star. I'm also guessing that you're all curious about will happen in Maris. All these question and others are addressed in the following chapter, so hang tight. ;D