[ The Saint's Cradle / October 1, 0078 13:03 ]
"Halt, Knight Signum!" A painfully familiar voice pierced the air.
Signum had not heard it in three years, yet every night she longed for it. Her master's voice. Slowly she looked down—and there she stood on the edge of the catwalk, her beautiful mistress, Queen of the Night Sky, Hayate Yagami.
"What mockery are you, spirit?" Signum glared at the young woman in a small black dress with white shoulder puffs and golden armoring. The sight of a familiar white bonnet upon her light brown, almost beige hair was excruciating. "Be gone!"
"Is that a proper way to talk to your master, Signum?" The woman's face grew stern. "Put away your sword and come down at once."
"This is a trick," Signum shook her head. "My master is dead. You dare to take on her image, mockery?"
"I am not a trick, Signum." The figure below smiled so genuinely, it made her entire soul writhe in pain. She wanted to believe so badly—but she could not. "I came back to you."
The figure's hand rested on her chest and then extended towards her. Lying on her palm was a small star of blinding white light.
"The light of the Night Sky," Signum whispered and suddenly found it impossible to breathe in again.
Laevatein slipped from her fingers as her arms fell limp to her sides. She had barely noticed it as her sword cluttered away down the glistening red surface of the reactor. Wobbling, she floated towards her mistress, who still held her Linker Core up, like a guiding beacon in the night.
As she landed on the catwalk, her legs refused to hold. She fell onto her knees and dared not to look up.
"Hayate, I… I have done unforgivable things."
"Well, I'll have you tell me all about them and scold you later," Hayate said in Japanese with that familiar accent that made her heart ache. "But right now we have more pressing concerns."
"No, Hayate, you don't understand. I cannot be forgiven."
"Well, that's for me to decide, ain't it?"
She finally looked up. Her mistress was smiling at her. Signum felt strange moisture swell up in the corners of her eyes.
"Hayate… Why… why are you so good to me?"
"Because you are mine," her mistress replied simply. She placed her hand the top of her head, careful not to touch the Crown she still wore. "Now, return to the gentle knight I remember."
As she lifted her hand, Signum felt a new weight on her head—the one that she had almost forgotten. Gasping, she reached back and felt the mass of luscious hair she had cut off in penance three years ago. The last shiver of doubt left her mind.
"Rise, my knight!"
She stood up, looking down at her mistress' beautiful face and not getting enough of it.
"Where are Shamal and Zafira?" Hayate asked.
"They stayed back… to hold off pursuit."
"So they will probably catch up with us soon," her mistress beamed.