Piccolo moved further and further away from Sitara. Something had happened between them last night so that they could now sense each other differently. He wondered how this strange connection had been formed and what it meant, but no idea came to him. It was beyond his imagination and that annoyed him. He needed to be able to explain things and situations, to understand them, so that he was above it all. If he couldn't, he felt powerless and that was a state he didn't like, that he detested.

It had more than surprised him that Sitara had pointed unerringly at him with her eyes closed, even though he had suppressed his aura. He now wanted to know if it was only because he was very close to her or if she could still spot him at some distance with his aura suppressed. With his aura suppressed, he could not fly as fast as he was used to, but for this test he had to accept that.

When he had almost reached the mountains, he slowed down. He did not know why. It was as if something was pulling him backwards, in the direction from which he had come. In the direction where Sitara was. He redoubled his efforts to keep flying, but it now felt like he was running through a muddy ground that was trying to hold him down. Quicksand that was pulling him down. He thought his senses were playing tricks on him. The pulling backwards became stronger. His chest felt tight.

It became uncomfortable, it was harder for him to breathe. Slowly he sank deeper. He had once heard that people could get sick. A cold that made them feel weak and weak for a few days. Could he get something like that? He searched his father's memories, but came up empty. Slightly amused at himself, he shook his head. Who had heard of the devil getting sick?

During the inevitable descent, he had continued to move forward. Now his arms and legs were burning as if they had caught fire from within. Panting heavily, he came to earth and looked at his arms. There was nothing to see from the outside. Then why did they hurt so much? He didn't know if he had ever felt so hurt and helpless before. After the fight with Goku he had been badly damaged physically, indeed he had been ready to die, to accept defeat. He had been in pain, but he had fought before and his opponent had also been injured. Now he was in pain, as if an invisible enemy had inflicted it on him. He wondered if it was magic.

'I need to rest,' he thought. Back to the cave. Somehow. On all fours, he crawled in the direction from which he had come. To the cliff edge, next to the waterfall. Where he had left Sitara. He felt miserable, ashamed that he couldn't walk upright, but there was no other way. Agonisingly slowly, he moved away from the mountains. Little by little the burning became more bearable, less so, until it disappeared altogether. Breathing became easier again. He could see the cliff edge clearly now, the river that plunged down there and Sitara lying on the ground at the edge.

Had she fainted? What had happened in his absence? Piccolo lifted off the ground and hovered just above the earth towards her. His body now felt normal again, as if nothing had happened. Only the memory of the pain was still present, like a bad dream that couldn't be shaken off. He wondered if he had imagined the tightness in his chest and the burning in his arms.

The closer he got to the edge of the cliff, the better and stronger he felt. Piccolo stopped next to Sitara. She just straightened up from her lying position with a groan and looked at him.

"What happened?" she asked, putting a hand on her chest and making circular motions with it.

Piccolo couldn't help grinning. "Did you fall asleep from boredom?"

Her eyebrows drew together in annoyance. Stupid monkey. He must have thought he was funny. "No.I couldn't breathe," she snapped in his direction and stood up. The pain was gone, she could breathe freely again, her body now felt like it always did.

Sitara gave Piccolo another withering look and turned around. She wanted to fly back down to her hut and didn't feel like dealing with him any more. But she didn't get far, because he held her by the arm.

"Describe to me exactly what happened." The amusement that had flashed in his gaze had disappeared and he looked very serious. Sitara, who had resisted his grip a moment ago, immediately paused. She could not remember that she had ever seen him like this. He was always serious and pensive, but now he looked worried. She haltingly recounted what she had seen in her mind's eye, the golden light and the thread. Then the pain she had felt in her chest. Piccolo listened in silence until she had finished. If at all possible, he looked even grimmer than before.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him hesitantly.

Piccolo had crossed his arms in front of his chest in his usual manner. Now he was doing something she had never seen him do before. He raised his right hand and tugged at his lower lip. It made him seem so normal. So human.

"I felt the same as you," he finally answered hesitantly, softly. As if he didn't quite want to admit it to himself.

Sitara looked at him incredulously. "Why?"

He just shrugged. "Maybe something happened between us last night during meditation? You were meditating too, weren't you?" She nodded. Piccolo continued talking. He shared his thoughts with her. "Suppose we were both absorbed in deep meditation. We were both accessing our deep energies at the same time. We have never done this so close to each other at the same time. What if our auras approached each other, independently? The auras touched. That must have been the moment we were thrown out of meditation."

Sitara had kept nodding in between. The explanation sounded logical. "Okay. That's one possibility. But that still doesn't explain why we're in pain all of a sudden, does it?"

Piccolo now began to pace up and down. Again, a mannerism Sitara was observing on him for the first time. "Maybe ..." He stopped mid-sentence and jerked to a halt. His eyes focused on a distant indeterminate point. Sitara turned to follow his gaze, thinking he had spotted something. There was nothing in the distance, so Sitara turned back to Piccolo and looked at him, waiting. Apparently an inspiration had suddenly struck him.

"That must be it," he whispered to himself. Sitara had to pull herself together very hard not to shout at him. What was the solution to the riddle? "When our auras jerked back, you took a part of me and I took a part of you. When we move too far apart, it's like leaving a part of ourselves behind."

She cleared her throat. "Piccolo, that sounds a little, well, how shall I put this, a little, uh, strange."

Piccolo resumed his rambling. "I know it sounds completely ridiculous, but at least it's an explanation, right?" She had to agree with him, even if it was hard for her. At least so far she had no better explanation.

"And how do we undo that?" Explanation or not. The important thing was to undo this connection. They couldn't possibly go on like this forever, could they?

"We just try the same thing we did last night again."

Sitara was sceptical. "What if we transfer more energy to each other?" What she really wanted to say she left unspoken. If Piccolo's theory was true and they transferred even more energy to each other, they would be even more dependent on each other.

"Since it's only theory anyway, we'll just have to try it out," he replied firmly.

Sitara grumbled a confirming sound. "See you tonight then." And she disappeared down the cliff edge, into the forest.

When the moon had reached its highest point, Piccolo and Sitara sat down opposite each other and meditated. They both failed to sink into deep meditation throughout the night. Frustrated, they spent the following day as far away from each other as they could stand and tried again during the night. Neither could concentrate properly. Because it didn't work, they became more and more frustrated, which pushed the success of deep meditation even further away.

They tried it every night for a week. They hardly spoke to each other during this time. On the morning of the eighth day, Sitara sought out Piccolo to talk to him. On the days when they didn't talk to each other anyway, she had been thinking a lot. She wanted to make a suggestion to him.

"I need new groceries."

Piccolo, who seemed to be convulsively trying to meditate, didn't look at her as he answered. "Then fly to the village."

She would have liked to punch him right in the face. "If I may just remind you: I can't move very far from you."

Piccolo actually seemed to have forgotten, or repressed it, because he looked a little confused.

"So if I could ask you to fly with me to the village? You can wait in the forest near the village. I'll go get my groceries and we'll fly back."

Instead of answering, he rose. Apparently he had no desire for further discussion. He floated upwards, slowly, as if waiting for her. They had tried on and off during the week to see how far they could get away from each other without it becoming painful. It was frustrating. From the edge of the forest to the cliff where the waterfall was. That was the farthest they could be at a distance without pain. It was only a little over two miles and that definitely didn't stretch to the village. Sitara had briefly considered trying it out without Piccolo, but then had balked at the idea of crashing in mid-flight because she couldn't breathe and then lying helpless in some forest or on some plain.

Sitara caught up with Piccolo. She enjoyed flying and knew that Piccolo had also missed taking a spin in the air. Piccolo flew slowly, as if he thought she would not be able to keep up with his pace. Sitara turned on her back in flight and flew under him, so that he now had to look at her.

"Do you think I can't keep up with you or why are you flying so slow?"

Piccolo had to stifle a grin. "I didn't mean to over-challenge you."

She had thought so. "Try and catch me then." She mobilised her strength and in the next moment was a good distance ahead of him.

She turned briefly to see if he was following too or if he was ignoring her prompting. He accelerated. Did she see the corners of his mouth turned up? Sitara accelerated again, but was careful not to put too much distance between them. Piccolo caught up, but only just before the edge of the forest where they were going to land did he catch her on the foot.

"It's my turn on the way back," Sitara said, leaving him in the forest with those words.

Piccolo landed and leaned against a tree. Hopefully it wouldn't take that long. During her absence, he pondered this strange situation. A woman with fighting skills who had fallen from the sky, who suddenly wouldn't let him go, and not only in a metaphorical sense. He could no longer meditate. He had always believed that these human qualities would not bother him. That he was always master of his senses, his body and his abilities, but that no longer seemed to be the case. Perhaps they could no longer break this bond. That would mean that she would always have to stay close to him. What happened if one of them died? Questions upon questions and no answers in sight.

A short time later Sitara was beside him again, her backpack filled with new food.

"I'm starving. I'll cook in a minute." With those words she was already in the air again, looking down at him. "I'll give you a little head start," she called to him.

Piccolo didn't see that he should comment and raced up just behind her, heading for her forest. Sitara's hair flew up, obscuring her view. Grumbling, she wiped her braid from her eyes and followed Piccolo.

He, too, was careful not to stretch the connecting band too much. He could well do without the pain. Sitara didn't catch him until they were at their hut, but didn't seem particularly upset about it. On the contrary, her mood seemed to be very good. Strangely enough, Piccolo also sensed a certain high spirits. When he had finished this thought, he shook his head imperceptibly. Why should he be in a good mood?

Sitara immediately set about preparing food over a fire, which she had lit in seconds with her energy. Instead of taking a seat on the rocky plateau or in the cave again, Piccolo sat down directly by the fire. If Sitara was surprised by this, she didn't show it.

She prepared the food as usual while Piccolo watched steam from the large pot over the fire spread a wonderful fragrance as Sitara offered him a bowl of stew. They ate without exchanging further words and put the empty bowls down beside them. Sitara inhaled and exhaled audibly, as if bracing herself for a difficult task.

"Piccolo, I would like to propose something to you." His only response was a quick nod. He was ready to listen.

"What if we don't try to break this ... bond, this connection, but to strengthen it." She broke off. He would probably declare her completely insane. With a wave of his hand, he urged her to keep talking. "Maybe we can train it so that we can move further away from each other without it hurting. If we focus on something other than frantically sinking into deep meditation, maybe we can find another way ... another way to do something with this connection ... anything ..." She kept talking, waiting for a reaction from Piccolo. She wasn't sure if he thought her idea was nonsense or if he was seriously considering it.

Sitara would have liked to jump up and run back and forth. Instead, she kneaded her hands and waited.

"Can you imagine that we can move energy back and forth through this ... connection?" asked Piccolo.

Her eyes widened. The thought had crossed her mind briefly, but she had pushed it back, thinking it far-fetched.

"Let's try it," she replied.

They sat down cross-legged facing each other. The distance between them was so small that their knees were almost touching. Piccolo, like Sitara, closed his eyes and imagined the bond that lay between them. In the darkness he saw a golden thread that started at about his chest level and ended in front of him after a short distance. That had to be Sitara's end. But he saw or felt nothing else until something in the real world brushed across his knee and he opened his eyes.

Sitara, startled, withdrew her hand from his knee. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I wanted to try it out to see if it would work easier this way."

Piccolo handed her his left hand, which she grasped hesitantly with her right. "Now, concentrate on this ... connection," Piccolo said before closing his eyes again.

Sitara plunged into the darkness and looked at the golden thread. She found it beautiful. It radiated warmth and light and glittered depending on how she looked at it, as if it were like the reflecting surface of a lake. She imagined a small image of herself taking shape in the darkness, balancing on the thread. Slowly, placing each step carefully on the thread, she walked along it. The thread ended after a short distance. Was this Piccolo's end of the line? Where did it go from there?

She felt in front of her. It felt as if there was a wall in front of her. She heard a sharp intake of breath coming from beyond the darkness. Piccolo sensed that she was here. She let her hands wander over the invisible barrier, delicately, searching for an opening. Then her hands felt an elevation. It had not been there before. It felt like a door handle. Determined, she pushed the handle down. The thread underneath her lengthened, leading her through the door. She went on. Hesitantly, considering every step. After a few steps, suddenly and without warning, she was swept off her feet, slid along the thread to its end and the vision ended. Sitara opened her eyes and looked at Piccolo, who had also opened his eyes and had the same frightened expression as she had.

"How did you do that?" Piccolo looked irritated. He hated it when he didn't have an explanation for something right away.

"I imagined myself walking along this thread until I reached your end. Then there was a wall. And I was trying to find a way through. Did you feel that?"

"Yes." Piccolo's answer came slowly. Hesitantly. As if he feared revealing too much of himself if he answered.

There were suddenly so many thoughts in Sitara's head that she couldn't grasp them all. What did it all mean? Why was there this connection? What had happened? How could this continue to work? So many questions and no answers. She knew that Piccolo had magic, as he could create things out of nothing, but this incident seemed beyond his imagination. From the storm in her mind, she then asked only one question, "What do we do now?"

"We will continue to try and break this connection or whatever it is. Since the night it happened was a full moon night, we will try once a month. The rest of the time, we'll test how far we can go and if we can extend the distance."

Sitara expressed concern, "What if, by training, we're more likely to strengthen the connection and then not be able to break it."

Piccolo noted her objection with a nod. "I've thought of that too. But I don't want to just sit around doing nothing now and wait for a miracle to happen. That seems even less likely."

The young woman rose and flew off. At the edge of the cliff she turned and called down to him: "Come on. Let's get going."

Piccolo followed her. Sitara stood at the cliff edge and handed him a fist-sized rock. "I suggest I stop here and you fly towards the mountains. As soon as you feel you can't go any further, you put a stone on the ground or make another mark and come back. That will guide us on how far we can go and if we can extend the distance." Piccolo disappeared in the next moment.