AH, BUT I RANT....


	-His lordship Chaos-

	Greetings.
	For those of you who know me as the infamous His lordship
Chaos of "Curse of the Fanboys!!!", you'll know that Tales of the
Dreamworld is a far cry from my hyper fanfiction parody series.
Diversity is a good thing, and can certainly be a healthy outlet.
While Fanboys! is something designed to let me laugh, the Dreamworld
is a dark and brooding saga designed to exorcise those fantasies we
all experience as children.
	I suppose I could just blame my imagination for never letting
me truly sleep. Truth be known, the Dreamworld began almost 4 years
ago. Yet in the beginning, its form was very different from what it
has now become. Over the past 3 years as I wrote various short
stories, the concept of the Dreamworld underwent metamorphosis after
metamorphosis.
	In the Dreamworld's first incarnation, there was very little
life there; just a place of darkness I called "the expansive nothing".
Silvermanes were the first known residents I created there, followed
swiftly by the Bogeymen. Later on the Dreamworld expanded,
encompassing those possessing high forms of magic within them. And
then ultimately it found new life as a work of Sailor Moon
fanfiction.
	Strangely enough, I never expected it to reach beyond the very
first tale in which Sorata and Makoto fall in love. However, it
would seem inspiration had other plans for me. All epic things in
this world seem to start out that way: very small, and very unaware
of the grandeur that is to come. Thus far a total of 11 tales have
been crafted, the 11th one being a final trilogy. Granted the end is
still left open enough for me to begin anew, but that bridge will be
crossed when I get there.



	-Sailor Moon Fanfiction-

	Perhaps one of the most fascinating aspects of the Dreamworld
is its connection to the Earthworld. While heavily tied to the
Sailor Moon Anime (the original Japanese version, which I personally
swear by), the Dreamworld could very easily be taken apart and, with
a little tailoring, be made to stand as its own series.
	Sailor Moon was one of my first experiences with Anime--and
the series still remains one of my top favourites. Since then I have
expanded my repertoire in Anime to include new and old series. I have
become an otaku, a rabid fan of Anime. And typically enough, when
one becomes a fan, one craves the chance to write fanfiction.
	Now if you've read either Tales of the Dreamworld or Curse of
the Fanboys!, odds are it looks like I have a natural talent at
writing. Don't be fooled; it's taken me 6 years of all-out hobby
writing to get this far. There are a few first attempts at Sailor
Moon fanfiction which, if you dug up, I would completely disavow to
having written them. Trust me: they're *that* bad. But in practicing,
I've honed my skills and found my niche.
	Why write Sailor Moon fanfiction?
	Well, my response to that question is: why not?
	There's a great variety of ways to take the plot in a series
like Sailor Moon that you just can't get away with in other Animes.
There's humour, drama, action. You can internalize a character and
see what makes them tick. With the earth an apparent magnet for evil
forces, the possibilities for new enemy threats are limitless. And
there's always been enough humour in the series to carry over into
fanfics.
	The allure of past and fantastic worlds is something that
seems to capture the child's imagination in all of us. The Silver
Millennium that Naoko Takeuchi created is certainly no exception.
You've got past lives once lived in magnificent palaces on other
worlds, royal courts and intrigue, and the ongoing battle between
good and evil. It's not too hard for one to take themselves away
from this world and time, and place themselves into Naoko's Moon
Kingdom.
	You could find yourself a maid or courtesan, or a visiting
ambassador to the palace. The Silver Millennium, as well as the
future Crystal Tokyo, leaves a lot to be envisioned by the writer. A
few key events are really all you have to be aware of, and that's
it. Think of the fun you could have running around in such a grand
and exotic realm, regardless of your own chosen identity.
	This leads me into perhaps the greatest reason for writing SM
fanfics as this: the plethora of chances to introduce new
characters. If you tallied up the number of fics which incorporate
just the original cast, and set that against the number of fics
which introduce new characters (here I'm thinking primarily of
Sailor Senshi and not villains), you would no doubt find the
"newcomer" fics outnumbering the "established" fics 2:1.
	Typically, any fic dealing with a newcomer allied to the
Sailor Senshi is some form of self insertion. Now now, don't feel
ashamed; we've all been guilty of doing it at least once in our
lives. My first fanfics were quite literal self-insertions of
myself. Hell, a few authors have been made famous for doing it, such
as Greenbeans.
	Now is not really the time to rant about the perils of self-
insertion; we've all encountered fics where SI works, and other fics
where SI bombs miserably. God-complexes aside, I think we see in
each of the Senshi something we all strive to become: a nobility of
the soul, fighting for something we all believe in (usually love),
and being given the power to blow the crap out of something.
	These are usually the draws to self-insertion into the Sailor
Moon universe. It could be argued that Tales of the Dreamworld is an
SI-type fanfic. After all, most of the Senshi do wind up with
soulmates; who's to say this isn't me padding my own ego.
	If I might be allowed to put forward a slice of personal
opinion, I would argue against such an accusation. Each of the
guardian angels are completely different characters, and if there
was to be any comparison between them and myself, the gap between us
would testify to my innocence of playing author avatar. I am a
writer; I write these stories because I need to have a creative
outlet. This could be called a compulsive disorder; it's gotten to
the point where I have to write to exist.
	And I do take my writing seriously...well, most of the time.
Sorata, Kishi, Karasu, Meikyu, Okami, and the others are all unique
individuals. In a sense, I did not create them. They allowed me to
bring them to life. The stories also seem to write themselves; I've
just become the outlet. It's a strange symbiotic affair an author
has with their work. Time and time again, I've found it at work in
the Dreamworld.
	As for the characters, while each of them represents something
I strive to hold, they are not me. Sorata embodies the frantic
romantic I'd like to be. Kishi holds a dark side I wouldn't mind
having from time to time. Meikyu has all the suave and charm with
the ladies that I think I lack. Okami's vicious dedication is what I
want to have for my soulmate.
	Karasu is perhaps the slight exception; more than anyone else,
he holds the closest personality akin to my own. And yet, in an
ironic twist, he's the only one who doesn't end up with a soulmate.
He was going to be with Rei, but halfway through The Wanderer's
Tale, I realized it just wouldn't work. Perhaps that is the charisma
he holds: Karasu seems like the one who deserves someone to be with
more than anyone else, and is denied. The tragic romantic hero, he
wanders alone across the Dreamworld in search of someone to call his
beloved.


	-Magik-

	In case you've been wondering, no, it's not a mistake. The
spelling of 'magik' with a 'k' is indeed deliberate. This was
intentional from the very start, and shall continue to the very end.
In an online manga I'm writing for a friend, I had one character
define magik as such:

	"Magic is fanciful thinking, a harmless use of illusions and
	 a few powers you humans possess. Magic belongs more in a
	 book. But as for magik, its power is beyond your grasp. The
	 oldest of magiks are always the most powerful, the most
	 alluring. Those who know about the true Faery tales know that
	 within those tales, the only true magic to wield is that
	 called 'magik'. It is the purest form of power known to our
	 world."

	"Cast a spell on a princess, and what you speak of is magic: a
	 simple act and children's fantasy created by your forefathers.
	 It is harmless. The real stuff is magik, pure and unbridled...
	 and destructive. There is nothing childish about it. You of
	 all people should know that by now."

	Now this might cause you to ask whether or not I believe in
magic? I dislike stating whether or not I believe in such a thing;
the concept of magic over the centuries has been used and worn, its
true meaning lost. Ask someone what evil is, or what good is, and
see if you get a straight answer. Like magic, those words have
become too relative in today's world. Any desired impact using these
words is forever lost.
	So magik was fashioned.
	I have always had a love of fantasy, of worlds so far away yet
as close as our imaginations can embrace them. It has always been an
ongoing theme in my stories where the character in question
discovers that the real word is not as real as they might first
seem. It becomes a time to question reality and one's beliefs. The
real becomes surreal, and everything is lost in a line of fiction
that gets blurred beyond recognition.
	That is the power of magik.


	-Anime-

	Japanese Animation is unique from its North American
counterparts in the fact that it is very adult. Series that air on
primetime in Japan would never be shown here until early morning. I
find Anime refreshing: it doesn't treat the viewer like a child, and
thus it doesn't treat itself as being childish. Storylines are
inventive and usually not the same plot being repeated over and over
to a different story arc.
 	The original uncut Sailor Moon features a lot more violence
and blood than you think. In the final 3 eps of the first season
(cut down to 2 here), the Senshi all die. DIE. No journeying to
another dimension--unless you count that dimension as being the
afterlife. Usagi is visited by the ghosts of her four fellow
soldiers before facing Beryl. And when the showdown between Usagi
and Mamoru begins, it isn't a pretty sight. That scene more than any
other got edited; Mamoru kicks, slaps, throws, strangles and tries to
impale Usagi numerous times.
	This year a few Anime movies will be coming to North American
theatres: Perfect Blue, X, and Mononoke Hime. I've seen all three,
and they are not for the faint of heart. Mononoke Hime was meant to
be director Hayao Miyuzaki's final work; it is extremely violent and
the ending is far from being a happy one. This coming from the same
studio which brought us Kiki's Delivery Service. X, based on Clamp's
manga series of the same letter, is total Armageddon; don't ask who
dies or even who dies first. Ask who dies in how many pieces. A
beautiful movie, and my favourite manga series, but very dark and
brutal.
	And as for Perfect Blue...that has to be seen and experienced.
Nothing I could say would do the movie justice. This one is creepy,
surreal, violent, and is one of the first Animes to feature full
frontal nudity with pubic hair. Mind you, said scene is just the
heroine posing in nude stills for some magazine shots.
	The adult levels that can and have been achieved in Anime are
not something to be taken lightly. Hentai aside, much of the Anime
we would see as being made for adults I have found truly satisfying.
Vision of Escaflowne, Evangelion, and Fushigi Yugi are but a few
examples I'd like to give.
	I enjoy the fact that the audience is not treated like some
child who can be entertained by the same episodic formula. My
respect for Anime and its creators has been passed down into my
choice of style for writing the Dreamworld saga. This is one of the
reasons why it has the R rating tagged onto it.



	-The Tales of the Dreamworld-

	I felt it best to cover the nature of both Anime and "magik"
before tackling this. The Dreamworld is indeed a grand vision, and a
dark one at that. The R rating attests to this. I will not apologize
for making these tales the way they are. In truth I cannot envision
them as having unfolded any other way.
	The real world is not a nice place to exist; the danger we all
face is not avoided in the Dreamworld. Death, violence, and
sacrifice are made all the more poignant in a series which doesn't
try to hide them. Call it a flair for the dramatic, I suppose, but
it's there in my stories.
	My use of the word "magik" over "magic" is just one facet
which reflects this. Magik as described earlier is a dark and
dangerous breed of power. Magik can give life and take it away. And
thus it is so in Tales of the Dreamworld. The heightened powers give
way to heightened tension in battles. This is evident enough when
one looks at the battles already fought, whether it's between Sora
and Kishi, Okami against Mistress 9, or the Wanderer against the
Shadowqueen.
	Yet I'm not about to write violence for the sake of violence.
That's not my style. In these tales, it's a fact of life that both
the Sailor Senshi and the guardian angels must deal with. No one
goes out looking for a fight, but when the fight comes to them, hell
hath no fury like a soldier enraged.
	The sexual content is something else I haven't overblown just
for the sake of having it there. Yes, there is sexual tension. I'm
not denying it; read The Labyrinth's Tale or The Princess' Tale if
you doubt me. But within these tales, the only thing I've wanted to
do is give sex the proper respect that should be placed on it. Sex
is not rampant and overly descriptive here like it is in hentai
fanfics. I have made it my business to write it as tastefully and
as romantic as I possibly can; here in my stories, it is the
culmination of the joining of bodies and souls, united in magik and
love.
	As writers of fanfiction, we do have certain responsibilities
to exercise. I don't think I need to state them here: we should
intuitively know them ourselves. And I believe that those authors
who have held themselves accountable to their writing, who have
written to make a great work even greater, are the ones who have
risen to become the most acclaimed and noted fanfic authors the Net
has to offer.

	Perhaps I have ranted enough for now.

	Until next we meet.

	Ja....


=====================================================================

				-PRELUDE-


Welcome.

Welcome to my world, the Dreamworld, our world.

A place beyond time. A realm just beyond our grasp. A world filled
with a magik that the Earthworld has long since forgotten. How easy
it is to run from our fears by simply forgetting. The pain is numbed
by false memories of better moments, for in those we can see a hope
to our lives. Yet there are those perhaps blessed or perhaps cursed
who remember everything.

These souls reside within the Dreamworld. Angel, demon, wanderer and
wolf: they all share a common link. It is with a group of female
soldiers in this world, the Earthworld. And all too quickly the
nexus which binds them all together shall reach out and touch you as
well.

For those of you who have already experienced the Dreamworld, I
trust your return to these realms shall be as inspiring as the
previous ones. For those of you who have stumbled into this domain
for the first time, let me extend to you my sincerest greetings.

I am His lordship Chaos.

Each of these stories are unto themselves unique and apart from each
other, yet they join together to form a larger and grander saga. To
skip one tale would only lead to confusion in later tales. For what
might seem as being trivial today could become the key to unlocking
the mysteries that unfold tomorrow.

But for now, delve into the eternal midnight, and the kingdoms that
have always laid beneath the moon's forever night. It is time for us
to build emerald cities from grains of sand, and to discover what
it's like to fly with angel's wings.

The Dreamworld is a place that weaves magik like a tapestry, letting
lives and destinies intertwine together. Who knows? Perhaps tonight
will be the night that you find yourself being caught inside a tale
all your own. But until that time comes, may you all find a dream to
dance within.

Oyasumi nasai....


=====================================================================

Dreamworld - 1st Night - Raven's Tale
Rated R

	Romance: n: (1) a medieval tale in verse or prose
	  based on legend, chivalric love and adventure, or
	  the supernatural. (2) something that lacks basis
	  in fact. (3) a passionate love affair.

				-Webster's Seventh Collegiate Dictionary



	Just as every breath possess an instance that can be brought 
to life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for 
others to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the tale.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a 
thousand dreamers and their dreams. Within every soul lies a story 
to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many 
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. 
They belong in her embrace. But the raven angels, these knights and 
warriors and their Dreamworld belong to another, and they are of my 
skin and soul. I embrace their world and their shadows as my own 
children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their 
creators. The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong 
to Naoko Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a 
part of her stories. But the realm of the waking dreamers, and both 
the angels and the demons that exist within them, are a part of my 
own story.  Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles 
beyond the moon, and my raven warriors belong with the Torii's 
beyond our dreams. 
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for your 
requests if you wish my raven angels to wander into other worlds 
and other stories.

	-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)




	"To sleep, perchance to dream."
				-Hamlet


	"I stole forth dimly in the dripping pause
	Between two downpours to see what there was.
	And a masked moon had spread down compass rays
	To a cone mountain in the midnight haze.
	As if the final estimate were hers;
	And as it measured in her calipers,
	The mountain stood exalted in its place.
	So love will take between the hands a face. . . ."

				-Robert Frost, "Moon Compasses"



	I have heard legend of a realm that exists beyond the borders 
of the world we know and live within. Beyond our sleep and our 
dreams there lies another world forged of magik and honour.
	Very few have ever awoken within this realm knowing that they 
had crossed through boundaries and gateways. Yet those who are 
gifted with the chance to glimpse into such a beautiful dream 
possess a magik themselves.
	For over a millennium I have wandered through this place, 
hearing tales of both wonder and horror. My own two eyes have 
looked upon heaven and hell, and their familiars. And sometimes I 
hear of those who find the power to cross through the gateways.  
	Sometimes if they find themselves in the world of waking 
dreamers, they encounter the souls who are forever standing guard 
to protect such beautiful dreams from a darkness of evil bent on 
consuming everything.
	These guardians are solitary, both warriors and mages, with 
human hearts and human souls. Their feelings are ours. So too are 
their struggles, their pain, their fears.
	They are the raven angels.
	Let me tell you a story...


	THE RAVEN'S TALE


	It was raining, though what fell was not rain. Petals. Cherry 
blossoms. Hundreds of pink, fragile blossoms swirling all around 
her. They were the only true colour here.
	A strange, dark realm. There was no visible beginning or end, 
no walls or ground or sky. There was only a darkness that was not 
black but of a deep evening blue or of the water in the depths of 
the oceans.
	One solitary shaft of light emerged, and she could see 
herself. The cherry blossoms became a pale white as they rained 
down, decorating her long, chestnut brown hair.
	She slowly turned a full circle, her body moving with swift, 
graceful elegance. Her feet dangled in the darkness. There was the 
sensation of being liquid, as if the air was hers to control. As if 
she could hover or fly--or was already floating.
	Could such a place on earth exist?
	Or was this even reality?
	"A...dream?" she asked herself.
	The blue darkness melted away, and a horizon stretched out 
before and beyond her. In the far distance were jagged peaks of 
mountains, their sides a hazy grey from the light of a full moon 
barely over the highest peak.
	The rays of moonlight also cast an eerie crimson glow upon the 
massive torii at the base of the mountains. Alone it stood, the 
gateway between worlds. The sensation of floating faded slowly, and 
she could feel her feet once again touching solid earth. A pathway 
of ancient cobblestone led down the slope to the torii, but she did 
not choose to follow it.
	Instead she waited.
	The night skies were clear and rippling with hues of blue. 
Only one solitary cloud ventured across the expanse of such a sky, 
the cluster of mist sluggish if not frozen in space. And from 
distant worlds in distant galaxies a thousand stars sparkled like 
grains of sand in the sunlight.
	It was still raining cherry blossoms as she settled onto the 
cobblestone path, her weight shifting about to the sudden pull of 
gravity. The midnight wind was cool, causing her to shiver slightly 
underneath her diaphanous nightgown. The folds of virginal white 
fabric rustled in the breeze, and her long brown hair billowed out 
behind her shoulders.
	"What...is this place?" she whispered.
	If this was dream, then it was the most realistic one she had 
ever experienced in her life. This seemed to move beyond the 
borders of awake and asleep; she felt as if she had crossed through 
the boundaries between realms.
	The cobblestones beneath her bare feet were cold, though not 
harsh as she took one cautious step down the pathway. She took 
another, clutching the collar of her nightgown protectively as if 
it was a talisman.
	The torii seemed to loom before her, still bathed in an eerie 
crimson glow from the moonbeams. Then appeared a silhouette, a 
figure cloaked in a darkness that matched a sky without stars. 
	She froze.
	In this realm, dream or otherwise, she was not alone. Another 
soul had joined her--or else had called her to join and walk down 
the same cobblestone path.
	The figure turned, the rays of moonlight exiling the shadows 
and revealing a young man. Alone he stood beneath the torii, the 
delicate petals falling around him. 
	He could be no older nor younger than she. His face was 
beautiful, almost like a girl's. Strands of raven wing hair covered 
his head, growing into a slender, tapering braid that dangled at 
his chest. Within his eyes was a crimson colour to match the torii, 
yet there was no hostility. If anything, there was sadness.
	He was dressed in a loose, sleeveless vest that was tied at 
his waist by a crystal blue sash. The vest was white, outlined in 
black, the front loosely opened to display a tight-collared shirt 
that was silver, sparkling the like the distant oceans when struck 
by rays of the moon. His pants were midnight black, as were his 
boots.
	Around his arms were guards, black fabric holding thin armour 
plates to deflect blades and combat weapons; his fingers were left 
open and free. The armour plates shone brightly, casting 
reflections of light across the grassy slopes.
	His eyes blinked. The wind seized his garments, ruffling them 
in ripples and waves. His lips parted as if trying to speak but no 
words could be heard. There was hesitation in the effort, a 
question of acceptance.
	The cherry blossoms became water, cold and sad like the tears 
a broken soul cried. Her nightgown became damp, then soaked, 
clinging to her skin and bringing to light what was being near 
revealed by its diaphanous nature. She was oblivious to her body 
contours that the nightgown clung to.
	It was the young man she found herself gazing upon.
	"Who are you?" she called out.
	He turned his head, eyes locking onto hers. Within those 
crimson eyes was sadness, a longing that bridged realms but not 
lives. He stretched out a hand, trying to reach for her, trying to 
call her. One last chance, one to intertwine destinies and to cheat 
fate.
	Suddenly two enormous things spread out from his back, 
unfolding with a dull 'thwap'. She recoiled, stepping away as she 
realized they were wings. Feathers of a dove, the colour of a 
raven. And with them a fury of feathers that scattered in the winds 
and the rain, swarming past her.
	A tempest erupted, cold and harsh against her wet skin. The 
gales were biting, and the feathers seemed to be attacking her. She 
threw up her arms to shield her face, trying to move away. The 
onslaught continued.
	Then for one heartbeat she lowered her defenses as she saw the 
young man stretch out his hand further, trying to rescue her and 
pull her closer into his longing embrace.
	The boy's lips parted, forming a single word.
	"Makoto," he whispered.

	
	When she awoke, it was with a nightgown damp from the sweat 
that had poured out from her own body. Her heart was pounding 
fiercely within her ribcage, ready to explode. The threat of danger 
filled her body with adrenaline.
	She shivered.
	A place where it rained down the petals of the cherry blossom, 
where at the base of a mountain range there stood a lone torii, and 
with it a solitary soul. She had walked down that path, smelled the 
pure air, witnessed his wings.
	Yet this room was her own, the exact room she had seen when 
last she closed her eyes and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. 
Nothing had changed but the hour on the bedside clock.
	"A...a dream," she whispered hoarsely, trying to convince 
herself it was only that. That it was only that which was fantasy, 
which never truly existed.
	She gripped the sheets of her bed, and felt something crush 
within her balled fists. 
	Slowly she lifted her hands, opening up both palms before her 
face. A dozen of black, raven wing feathers were caught by a draft 
and lifted into the air, drifting across the room.


	Her friends noticed the changes in her later that day, when 
the darkness of an early morning had given way to the soothing heat
of a September sun. 
	A morning filled with classes had passed by like a distant 
dream, yet it was such a distant dream that filled her mind. Those 
raven feathers were still laying on her floor, a reminder of 
something crossed during the night. Nothing else could capture her 
attention save the young man beneath the torii.
	"Mako-chan?" the long-haired blonde asked. "Are you alright?"
	She looked up from the grass, nodding. It was a nod purely 
derived from a habitual action. Her true thoughts hidden inside, 
she tried to rediscover her friends.
	"I'm fine," she said.
	"You seemed...distant from all of us," the blue-haired genius 
said. "You've been that way all morning."
	"Are you sure nothing is bothering you?" the odango-haired 
blonde pressed. There was a genuine concern in the voice, concern 
directed to her.
	She nodded once more. "I've just been thinking."
	"About what?" the long-haired blonde asked.
	His eyes flashed before her mind. Crimson sadness, and strands 
of raven black hair that danced in the wind. She straightened away 
from her propped-up legs.
	"Someone I met," she answered.
	"Oh!" the long-haired blonde exclaimed in a teasing tone. "A 
new boyfriend?"
	She shook her head. "No..."
	"A new crush?" the odango-haired blonde asked.
	Again she shook her head. "No..."
	"Then who was it?" the blue-haired genius asked.
	She looked up at the rays of sunlight trickling down from the 
tangles mass of leaves held high in the tree over their heads. "I'm 
not sure I can describe it," she told her friends. "I'm not even 
sure if it really happened. It was a dream."
	"You dreamed of a cute guy?" the long-haired blonde pouted. 
"I'm jealous."
	"There was more," she countered, shaking her head.  
"Mountains, and a lone torii at their base. He was there, and he 
had a pair of raven wings stretching out from his back. Such 
sadness in his eyes..."
	Her voice trailed off.
	The three friends sat there next to her, eyes quizzical and 
hearts caught by the unfolding dream.
	"He called my name," she finished. "And when I awoke, I was 
holding the down of his wings in my palm."
	Silence reigned until the blue-haired genius spoke: "Perhaps 
it wasn't a dream."
	"How else could you explain it?" the long-haired blonde 
countered. "Mako-chan fell asleep and then woke up after this 
encounter. It had to have been a dream."
	"But when you wake up from a dream there should be no feathers 
in your hands that existed only within the dream," the blue-haired 
genius countered.
	"So romantic," the odango-haired blonde sighed. "Did he tell 
you his name?"
	She shook her head. "He could only call my name before the 
winds came. There was no time for anything else."
	They all fell silent once more.
	A solitary raven landed down next to them, stared in turn at 
every one of them. When its eyes fell to her, the raven's gaze 
held. And within those eyes she could see crimson sadness. Her 
breath was held in, and she leaned forward with a hand 
outstretched. She was beckoning for the raven to come closer.
	But with a loud caw the raven spread its wings and took to the 
air. She opened her mouth to call after the raven, but it was all 
but a shadow in the sky now. Their meeting, like the dream, had 
ended.


	Nothing more had been said of the dream for the remainder of 
the day, but everything else had faded in her memory. All she could 
think about was her dream, and the mysterious soul beneath the lone 
torii.
	A gateway.
	But a gateway to where? What did it bridge?
	She brushed out the last of her chestnut brown hair, let down 
from the ponytail for the night. Setting down the brush she pressed 
her hand against the fabric of her nightgown. Smooth and silken to 
the touch, she felt the warmth of her hand caress her breasts.
	Would he come tonight?
	Would she dream tonight?
	The time on the bedside clock read thirty minutes until the 
midnight hour. She gave it only a second glance, walking over to 
the window and peering out between the blinds.
	Like it had been when she walked up the steps after school, 
the raven still perched itself on the outside railing. The solitary
bird watched over her, flying away when she got too close and 
called it closer. 
	At this hour, in this night, she did not wish to try one more 
time and venture outside. The raven would surely take flight once 
again. She let it watch over her.
	Her eyes felt heavy, her body weary and full of fatigue. 
Though as she slipped underneath the covers of her bed, there was a 
new sense of anticipation. A question of returning to the 
mountains.
	The lights of the city outside managed to get a few stray 
beams onto her floor, but they were dim and scattered at best. As 
night settled into her apartment, she could feel herself slip away 
from the conscious world.
	Her eyes slowly closed and she slept.


	It was raining delicate petals of the cherry blossoms once 
more. She found their soft touch all over her body as she stood 
there once more at the top of a slope. Beneath her bare feet was 
the cobblestone path.
	Before here were the grey mountains, and their moonlight. The 
skies were clear again, though this time the moon was in its first 
quarter, a mere crescent now. It still was beautiful.
	Far off down the path laid the torii, its crimson outline 
catching her attention. The breeze was cool and she shivered 
slightly. The diaphanous nightgown pressed tightly against her 
chest with the winds, the contours of her breasts and belly 
revealed amidst ripples of fabric.
	The rain of petals came to a gradual end, and the air was 
clear once more. Yet many of the petals were still in her hair, 
pale and glistening with evening dew.
	Slowly she followed the cobblestone path down to the base of 
the mountains, to where the torii stood. As she neared it, the 
silhouette of a human figure emerged.
	It was the young man.
	He stood motionless beneath the gateway, head bowed in 
reverence, arms passively at his sides. She could see the large 
raven wings rustling at his back, the feathers fluttering in black 
shadows.
	His head tilted upwards, eyes opening to meet hers. There was 
joy in seeing her once more, yet there was still the crimson 
sadness that consumed if not devoured the joy moments after.
	This time she stretched out her hand, calling to him.
	He hesitated.
	"Please," she asked of him.
	Tears pooled in his eyes, his soul torn by emotions she could 
not yet understand. "Makoto," he whispered, turning away. Placing a 
hand against one of the Torii's poles he cried. His tears struck 
the cobblestones, soaking in.
	She approached.
	Tenderly she placed her hand in his shoulder in the hopes of 
comforting his fragile soul. He whirled at her touch, angrily 
slapping aside her gentle hand. Wings unfurled, sending up another 
cloud of dark feathers. For a moment his eyes were dark and 
vengeful, his chest lifting with heavy breaths.
	And then sadness returned, accompanied by regret. 
	"I'm sorry," he said. "Please, forgive me. It was uncalled 
for."
	His wings rustled, folding in behind his back. He seemed hurt, 
though more by his own actions. One hand gripping his other arm, he 
shifted positions. Eyes avoided hers.
	"It's alright," she assured him, holding out her hand. 
"Please," she asked once more.	
	Uncertain that her hand would melt away like water if he dared 
touch it, he slowly lifted his fingers to her palm. They touched, 
and it was smooth and gentle.
	Hands clasped, fingers laced together.
	The crimson sadness seemed to lift for that one shining 
moment, and she felt her own soul rise. This was a feeling unlike 
any other.
	Both hands now clasped, and they stared into each other's 
eyes. Looking into hers was like walking amidst a great forest, and 
into his witnessing a purifying blaze.
	Unclasping one hand, he ran his fingers though her long brown 
hair, slowly lifting them out to caress her cheek. He smiled, the 
tip of his index finger brushing against her lips. She sighed, her 
own free palm soaking up the warmth of his cheek.
	Suddenly a cold wind swept past them.
	For a split second he pulled her close to him, arms 
protectively around her waist and a defiant look in his eyes. The 
wind died out, but in its wake a gathering of ravens took to the 
skies from the grass.
	Like a dark cloud they settled atop the torii, staring down at 
the two. He could read what they had to say in their eyes, and it 
was a message he wished he could have never seen.
	He stepped back, the warmth of their two bodies pressed 
together fading and replaced with the cool night air. Sadly he 
lowered his head and turned away. "You must go now," he said 
quietly, hating the words he spoke.
	At first she was unable to understand. Then when she did, she 
was unable to accept them. "Why?" she asked, taking his hand in 
hers.
	"Because that is the way it has always been," he answered 
grimly. Whether it was by his own force or her own release, his 
fingers slipped free of hers.
	Already he was growing distant, the mountains fading into 
darkness as the moon and stars were swallowed up. The torii 
disappeared and all that remained was him.
 	He stretched out his arm to pull her back, but their fingers 
were met with passing, hers through his. He was becoming a ghost, 
unable to cross into her realm.
	"Makoto," he whispered sadly, desperately trying to reach out 
beyond the boundaries.
	But it was no use, and he too was slowly fading. 
	She tried to step forward and found herself only stepping 
back. They were separating, lost in solitude. And with it was lost 
that warm feeling of his touch.
	"Tell me your name!" she called out.
	Though his lips never moved, she heard his voice in her ears, 
inside her mind, before he vanished.
	"Sora," his voice came. "Please, Makoto, forgive me...."


	There were no feathers when she awoke this time. But her skin 
was tingling from his touch, warm and excited all over. She 
shivered, feeling a cold breeze pass her by.
	She had left a window open because of the sweltering heat, but 
at night the temperature had dropped. Had this roused her from her 
sleep, tearing her away from the dream?
	The bedside clock proclaimed four and a half hours into the 
morning.
	She rubbed her hands against her chest, her fingers tracing 
her breasts and belly beneath the nightgown. Reaching up she 
touched her lips; she could still feel his touch on her skin.
	"Sora," she whispered. Sora....


	There was no return to the mountains that night, and when 
morning came and the sun arose she found herself in the same bed in 
the same apartment as before. Nothing had changed.
	When she opened her front door to leave for school the raven 
was still there. It had kept up all through the night and when she 
approached it took to the skies in a fury of wings and feathers.
	Her world was like walking through another dream, and this did 
not go unnoticed by her friends. They were only able to confront 
her once more during the lunch hour when they had time to be alone 
and talk.
	"You're just like you were yesterday," the long-haired blonde 
said. 
	"Was it another dream?" the blue-haired genius asked.
	She nodded, pulling her knees up closer to her chest. "It was 
different this time. Our hands touched, and for a moment I thought 
I saw him smile."
	"I would love to have such a mystery guy in my life!" the 
odango-haired blonde sighed.
	"You already have Mamoru," the long-haired blonde stated. 
	The odango-haired blonde laughed in embarrassment. "Oh, 
right!"
	"He has a name," she spoke up.
	Her three friends leaned in closer.
	"What is it?" the blue-haired genius asked.
	"Sora," she answered. "The skies, the heavens; that is his 
name. He's like an angel."
	"Angels aren't supposed to have raven wings, are they?" the 
long-haired blonde asked, turning to the blue-haired genius.
	"I don't think so," the blue-haired genius said. "Mako-chan, 
what would make you think he was an angel?"
	"He was watching over me," she replied quietly. She turned her 
head and saw the solitary raven standing at the edge of a pathway. 
"He always has been."
 	"This is very strange," the blue-haired genius said. "Perhaps 
we should see Rei-chan about this."
	"Good idea," the long-haired blonde agreed. "Maybe the fire 
will help us find this cute guy."
	She smiled at the mention of Sora being cute. He was handsome, 
yes; beautiful almost to the point of appearing like a girl. Such 
tranquil compassion and frailty in his soul. She wanted to meet him 
again tonight, underneath the pale moonlight.
	She wished to feel his touch again, for his wings to enfold 
her and make her feel secure. Just as she had felt long ago as a 
child in her darkest hours...


	"I won't make you any promises," the dark-haired shrine girl 
said, leading the foursome down the halls of one of the Shinto 
shrine's buildings. "This is a strange request. I don't know if the 
fire will be able to tell us anything."
	"Any attempt is better than nothing," the blue-haired genius 
spoke up.
	They came to the chamber housing the sacred fires that burned 
day and night. The dark-haired shrine girl sat closer to the fire 
than the other four.
	She hoped her friend could read something from the fire 
anything.
	Eyes closed, powers focused, the black-haired shrine girl 
began to whisper words coming in a rapid chain that was a chant. 
Suddenly the eyes were open, staring into the fire as it erupted 
and burned higher than usual.
	Yet there was nothing within the flames.
	"Gomen," the dark-haired shrine girl said, shaking her head. 
"But the fire cannot find anything about this guy you meet in your 
dreams."
	She sighed at her friend's words, accepting the fact that only 
Sora could give her the answers she wanted. But the chance might 
only come tonight when she slept. So many hours were before these 
two times.
	"Well," the long-haired blonde asked. "Now what do we do?"
	"I have no suggestions," the blue-haired genius spoke up. "I 
don't know what else we possibly could do. These events, this 
guardian angel are completely unprecedented."
	"Hai, but where does he come from?" the odango-haired blonde 
asked.
	The black-haired shrine girl rolled her eyes. "Usagi, you can 
be so stupid sometimes."
	The odango-haired blonde whimpered. "Rei-chan, you're so 
mean!"
	They all started to talk amongst themselves after that, but 
she found their conversation growing distant. She walked closer to 
the fire, hand at her breast. Slowly she opened her hand and 
reached out towards the sacred flames.
	"Mako-chan?" the odango-haired blond asked.
	She glanced back at them, but then returned to her hand when 
she felt something soft and light fall into her palm. It was a 
single black raven's feather.
	And then another drifted down past her.
	And then another.
	All the girls whispered to each other in awe as the room 
became witness to a gentle rainfall of raven feathers. They floated 
down to the wooden floor, collecting in numbers.
	"Incredible," the blue-haired genius exclaimed.
	The odango-haired blonde laughed, catching a large handful of 
feathers and then flinging them up in the air. The long-haired
blond joined in the sentiment until the black-haired shrine girl 
snapped that unless they stopped they would be cleaning this mess 
up.
	There was so much magik in the room.
	It couldn't have been just a mere dream she had felt.
	She smiled, staring into but not at the fire. She would return 
again tonight to see him.
	"Sora...." she whispered.


	The pale crescent moon was shining overtop the peaks of the 
mountains once more, as it always had been and always would be. The 
cobblestone path was still cold on her bare feet.
	Her diaphanous nightgown rustling in the breeze, she journeyed 
down the path towards the distant torii still glowing with a 
crimson aura brought on by moonbeams.
	She was not far from the gateway when she saw him, a shadow 
rippling amidst other shadows that danced and played by the torii. 
Two deep crimson eyes slowly opened, the only visible colour of his 
darkened outline. And then he stepped out from the shadows.
	"You came!" he said, a smile touching his face. For a moment 
the clouds of sadness left his eyes, and they were beautiful. He 
moved as if to close the distance and embrace her, but once more 
hesitated.
	His eyes clouded over again.
	"You should not have come," he said finally, looking away. It 
pained him to look into her eyes.
	"Sora," she said quietly, her hands caressing his cheek and 
lifting his head. He was pulled into her gaze, his features 
softening. As if uncertain whether or not he himself was inside a 
dream, he lifted a hand to her skin, gently brushing against it.
	She sighed at the warmth of his touch.
	"Makoto," he whispered.
	"How is it that you know my name?" she asked.
	"You have been here many times," he said quietly, his arms 
wrapped around her neck. "I have seen your beauty cross the borders 
of this Dreamworld."
	His fingers caressed her face, moving from forehead to cheek 
to chin in slow, rhythmic motions. She could feel her breathing 
grow more like sighs or quiet moans.
	"Such beautiful green eyes," he whispered. "Like walking into 
an emerald forest. One day I might journey into there and become 
lost inside forever. Such a fate I could only hope for, Makoto."
	His smile faded, as if harsh reality had come crashing down 
and destroying his fragile hopes. He moved away, possessed by 
crimson sadness. Though his hand languished at her cheek, until it 
too was pulled away, his fingers stretching out in the longing to 
feel her skin once more.
	"Sora..." she whispered, reaching out for him.
	Darkness stole him away.
	"I am sorry," his voice whispered with the winds. "Makoto, 
please...."


	Her eyes were open yet unfocused, as was her mind the same 
way. The morning had been a blur of forgetfulness, lost to her in a 
gentle rainfall of raven's feathers.
	"Mako-chan?" the odango-haired blonde asked, waving a hand 
before her face. "Mako-chan?"
	She managed to shake herself out from the dreamlike state, 
eyes finally focusing on her friends. Once more they were sitting 
beneath the shade of a tree to escape the heat of a September sun.
	"You saw him again, didn't you?" the blue-haired genius said.
	She nodded.
	"Ah, I'm jealous!" the long-haired blonde exclaimed. "Why 
can't I meet a guy like that in my dreams."
	"It was more than a dream," she answered quietly. It felt like 
destiny, or something that went even beyond destiny. A magik, one 
she had never felt before--not even in a distant life far apart 
from this one.
	"It could just be a dream," the blue-haired genius suggested. 
"A very real dream. We all have them. I mean, I can't explain it 
any other way."
	"How do you explain all those feathers yesterday at the sacred 
fire?" the long-haired blonde countered.
	The blue-haired genius could find no response.
	Despite their words of encouragement, she was still lost in 
troubling thoughts. Her angel kept himself a step back, longing to 
step forward yet hesitating. Was this the dilemma of the raven?
	"Mako-chan?" the odango-haired blonde asked, noticing her 
expression. "Is something wrong?"
	She nodded, drawing her knees up closer to her chest.
	"Every time we get close," she said quietly. "He pulls away 
with sadness. As if we're not supposed to be together. I don't 
understand."
	The long-haired blonde leaned over, aghast. "Don't say things 
like that, Mako-chan! You have to keep fighting to reach him! After 
all, life is short and love's a battle!"
	"That's 'life is short so love while you can'," the blue-
haired genius corrected, sighing at the failed quote.
	She smiled at their efforts to make her cheer up; they were 
not in vain. Her hopes lifted just as the raven familiar took to 
the skies, leaving a few feathers to drift through the air.
	Hand outstretched, she caught a black feather and closed her 
fingers around it. Soft against her skin, cool and compassionate. 
The others fell silent as they saw her clutch the feather and then 
release it to the winds.
	Something seemed to be stopping him, drawing him away when all 
he seemed to wish for was to draw closer to her.
	She had to try.
	The winds seemed to whisper his name as they drifted past her. 
Even the rustling leaves of the tree seemed to speak of the raven 
angel. His magik was spreading.
	"Sora," she said quietly. She was lost from her friends, from 
her world. The mountains and the lone torii, the cool breeze 
against her skin, the touch of his soft skin. 
	"Mako-chan..." the odango-haired blonde whispered. They were 
being drawn into his world; no one remained untouched. His magik 
was spreading to them all.


	That night, without words, she slipped out of her clothes. For 
a long while she stared at her naked form caught in the mirror's 
reflection. Her hands gently brushed against her skin, tracing the 
contours.
	For a time she paused at her breasts, and then continued. 
Every pore of her body seemed to be tingling like a gentle shower 
of rain was falling upon her. She looked down at herself, wondering 
if this was Sora's magik.
	The mirror watched her move before it, fingers running down 
her body. And then the mirror let her watch. Her eyes widened, her 
breath a rapid inhale. Within her reflection she saw her form fade 
to black, Sora inside. With downcast, trembling eyes he looked 
away, arms crossed over his chest and clutching his shoulders.
	"Makoto...." she heard him whisper. He was calling out for her, 
in an hour where he was the lone angel in the darkness.
	He faded, and only Makoto was within the mirror. 
	She walked up to the mirror, hands touching the cold surface. 
Her reflection mimicked her actions, eyes within a dream, long 
brown hair dangling over her shoulders and chest. Slowly she moved 
away and reached for her nightgown. The silken gown seemed to 
caress her with that same magik. From somewhere beyond the window a 
raven called out to the moon.
	The bedside clock read fifteen minutes past the eleventh hour. 
And then the lights fled and darkness rushed into the room like a 
flood, sweeping away sight and thoughts and the waking hours.


	It was a gentle shower, the rainfall not enough to soak her 
nightgown right through, but enough to dampen both her hair and her 
garments. The storm felt of sadness. Quiet, lonely tears were 
falling down around her, at her feet and washing into the cracks of 
the cobblestone path.
	The half moon was burning a bright glow across the skies and 
the mountains. Shadows were cast in shimmering silver all around 
her save for the crimson aura that was the torii.
	With steps made uncertain by her heart, she made her way down 
the slope towards the gateway. The rains were still falling but 
there was no wind; even still she found herself shivering. The 
dampened folds of her nightgown glistened around the form of her 
body, the pale colour of her skin showing through the diaphanous 
fabric.
	Sora was standing beneath the torii, waiting. But his back was 
turned, still clutching his shoulders. His tapering braid was 
soaked with the water, almost hidden by the folds of his raven 
wings.
	He turned, the rain leaving a strange sparkle around his 
figure. Crimson sadness. His arms slowly lowered to his sides. A 
bittersweet smile managed to carve itself onto his face.
	"Makoto," he said, watching.
	She was only a step away, face to face and eyes gazing into 
each other's soul. His wings rustled, feathers noiselessly shifting 
around. Her mouth opened to say something, anything. Nothing came, 
and no words could find a voice to claim. Yet her eyes spoke more 
than her lips, even when he gently reached out and ran his finger 
across her lower lip and chin.
	"You came once more," he whispered. He tried to separate 
again, but she snatched his wrist and held it tightly in her grip. 
Unable to leave, he was left with no choice but to return forward. 
	He smelled of the sweet and moist evening air, of racing 
through the skies on raven's wings and the fragrance of a garden of 
roses. It was something that she wanted to breathe and be a part 
of.
	"Why do you keep pushing me away?" she whispered, trembling 
eyes pleading out to him. "Why do you hide when I can see you wish 
to come to me?"
	He stared at her, torn between two dreams. And then he stepped 
forward, arms around her shoulders as he caught her up in a tender 
embrace. His head tilted, cheek to cheek.	
	"Why won't you let me in?" she asked.
	"Fear," he answered softly. "Fear of what happens every time 
you wake up. I remain, and you return to that realm of the waking 
souls. The fear that I may be doomed to love you from beyond our 
dreams forever."
	She felt something cool and wet, something apart from the 
rain, hit her cheek. The raven angel was crying through closed 
eyes. 
	Another of his tears fell, his arms trembling as he held her. 
He was pleading that he could never let go, to see her disappear 
and become lost from him. 
	"You found a way to me," he whispered. "I know that this will 
end when your eyes open in another world, and all I can do is to 
pray that you find your way back the next night."
	The gentle rainfall became instead a breeze. No more water and 
no more tears. Instead a cool wind floated past them, and she drew 
closer to him, shivering. His wings wrapped around her even 
tighter, her breasts against his chest.
	He lifted a hand to brush away the bangs of chestnut hair from 
her face. So cool from the rain yet so warm from her heart. He 
lingered with his palm against her cheek, finally resting it around 
her neck to lace with the other.
	"I have seen the beauty of your dreams." He smiled, staring up 
at the stars. "It is like the radiance of your face. You don't know 
how many times I have reached out in the hopes of touching your 
dream."
	Her arms trailed down his sides, his vest damp and clinging to 
his form. A sensitive area caused his wings to rustle with sound. 
	"Looks like I found a tender spot," she said.
	He laughed, wings folding back behind him. "Beautiful Makoto," 
he whispered, one final tear streaking down his face. "For years 
have I watched you dance within your dreams, to watch you from my 
gate. I could only call out to you and hope you would hear me."
	 His words choked, crimson sadness threatening to overtake his 
eyes once more. It was hard for him to admit to his dreams, knowing 
how fast they would fade and how forever would pass before they 
returned.
	"I'm here," she said, taking his hand in hers.
	His features softened. "We are guardian angels, lords of the 
dream realm," he said, tilting his head to the eerie glow of the 
torii. "Within these borders we are to watch but never join. Always 
with you, yet always apart."
	He led her down the cobblestone path, her footsteps taking her 
beyond the gateway. Overhead the half moon shone its pale kiss down 
on them, and the cool wind brought them closer together.
	"Our time together is short," Sora said. "I can only hold you 
in my arms for one shining heartbeat before you are stolen back to 
your world."
	He smiled, caressing her cheek. 
	She sighed. "This all feels like a...."	
	"A dream?" he finished with a smile of amusement. "You are 
between realms of the waking and the dreaming, and only a handful 
of souls have ever walked this path and remembered it."
	Giggling echoed across the mountain base, content and excited. 
The wind itself seemed to frolic in the childlike laughter; her 
hair and gown rippled with every breeze.
 	"What is this?" she asked.
	A chorus of laughter arose from the grasses and flowers. 
Fleeting images, ghosts and memories played and danced around the 
path. 
	"The dreams of souls such as yours," he said. "I seek to 
preserve their beauty, and to defend them from the eternal darkness 
and its minions."
	She watched as flickers of dreams passed her by. A child on a 
swing with only seat and chains but no frame; a young man curled up 
in a chair, silently ensnared in the world behind the pages of a 
book.
	A girl with long blonde hair and odangos sighed, laying in the 
embrace of a young man with short, dark hair in a bed of roses, both
lovers staring up at the half moon.
	This was a dream she knew, the dreamers she cared for deeply. 
"Usagi-chan," she whispered, watching to two. "Mamoru-san."
	"A rare dream," Sora said quietly, whispering into her ear. 
"Only a few find their way to each other within their dreams. Such 
love is destined for eternity."
	She held in her breath as he pressed into her back, arms 
wrapping caringly around her neck. Such a sweet fragrance that 
embodied him. Her skin tingled at his very touch.
	"It is time for you to go," he said reluctantly. "But for the 
first time, I won't be alone as I stand."
	She turned, eye to eye and face to face. He leaned forward, 
eyes closing. His breath felt warm and reminded her of these nights 
beneath a pale moon. Her own eyes closed. Lips met and became one 
as passions and magik fused together. Her body tingled with the 
sensations of the wind caressing her dampened body. She could feel 
his hands loop around her waist, pulling her in closer. She stroked 
his sides, feeling his wings rustle around her.
	Lips met and finally parted with the parting.
	Sora drew back, his hands slowly running up her sides and 
over her breasts as they were pulled away. She stretched out her 
hands, brushing against his arms and then clasping fingers.
	The mountains grew distant, the torii all but forgotten. 
Dreams of those she knew and souls unknown were lost within a grey 
mist that rose up from the cracks of the cobblestone path.
	She could feel his grip slipping away, his image fading.
	"Mako-chan," he whispered. "I love you...."


	She sighed, staring outside at the dream of reality. The 
September sun was hot, the air thick, the day still bright and blue. 
Yet she longed for night. Cool or hot, she didn't care. Just one 
more chance to be with her raven angel.
	The grounds of the Shinto shrine were serene, trees swaying 
lazily in a gentle breeze just beyond the open paper-screen 
dividers and the outside porch walkway that encircled the building. 
If she turned fast enough, she could still catch his smell in the 
air, of evening dew and roaming fields.
	"Mako-chan?" the dark-haired shrine girl asked, trying to 
catch her attention. "She is really out of it today."
	They were seated together at a low table in one of the shrine 
building's rooms. All friends wanted to talk, but she was oblivious 
to much of it.
	"She's been like this ever since this morning," the odango-
haired blonde replied. 
	"It's like she's awake yet still walking in a dream," the 
blue-haired genius said.
	"It's that guy again," the long-haired blonde said, shaking a 
fist and pouting. "Why can't I find a guy like that?"
	They all turned to the sound of flapping wings. Two ravens 
came to rest upon the porch, cocking their heads at the open room 
before them.
	"Phobos! Deimos!" the dark-haired shrine girl exclaimed, 
calling out the names of the attending ravens. "What are you two 
doing here?"
	The two ravens simply stood at the edge of the groove for the 
paper-screened sliding door. Expectantly they searched the room, 
looking from girl to girl, two pairs of eyes settling upon her.
	She was already watching them, expectant also.
	Another raven flapped down, alighting the porch and standing 
in between the two other of its kind. Crimson eyes of hope and 
magik seemed to shine as they found her.
	"Mako-chan?" the odango-haired girl asked. "What's going on?"
	"Sora...." she whispered in response. 
	Her raven angel.
	Abruptly all three birds opened their wings and in a loud fury 
took to the skies. No shadows were left behind, no feathers to 
drift in the wind.
	She would go to him again tonight, to answer to his call.
	And he would not pull away in fear.


	With the setting sun came the rising moon, and with it came 
the night of a thousand stars. Night had emerged supreme and the 
hour was drawing later in the sands of time.
	Time found her once again staring at her reflection in the 
full-length mirror before her. Skin alive with tingling magik, she 
caressed her skin and found warmth in a dreamlike wraith who seemed 
to be behind her, her own hands becoming his as they ran down her 
body.
	She smiled as her reflection faded, the mirror opening up to 
her a realm beyond consciousness. She saw a face looking back 
though not her own. 
	"Sora-chan," she said.
	He nodded, lifting up a hand and pressing his palm against the 
glass wall between them. Her hand moved to match his, fingers 
longing to lace together yet confined by a window that was not a 
gateway.
	Wings outstretched, throwing raven feathers across his side of 
the mirror. The winds of magik blew them through the watery portal, 
and she closed her eyes as she felt the caress of their rainfall, 
drifting past her face and around her room.
	"Mako-chan..." he whispered, feeling the warmth of her palm 
despite the barrier between them. 
	The raven's down swept her away, electrifying her body with a 
thousand sensations. She could almost feel him standing around her, 
arms laced around her shoulders as he kissed the base of her neck. 
Wings folding around them, she wanted to be there next to him, to 
touch and be touched.
	The magik overwhelmed her, and she slowly lowered herself onto 
her bed. No covers. No nightgown. With a dream to cling to she 
slipped from the waking hours and walked towards an ancient gateway 
she knew so well.  


	A cool breeze that marked the night drifted past her, sweeping 
with it strands of grey mist along the grasses. The cobblestone 
path was no longer cold beneath her feet for now her feet were in 
boots.
	Everything had changed with the bonding of magiks, the 
conjunction of realms. There was not a nightgown around her but a 
flowing white blouse tied at the waist with an emerald sash. 
Beneath the billowing folds of her blouse was a skirt cut from the 
night sky that strived to touch the ground but fell short by a 
hand's length.
	Around her collar draped a cloak of emerald found in the same 
shade as her sash. It too fell short of touching the ground, 
rippling with each push of the winds. A bracelet forged of gold 
wrapped around her right arm, decorated with runes and gemstones 
that glittered when caught in the moon's gaze.
	There she stood, in clothes becoming of this realm's magik.
	No longer was she standing atop a slope, the cobblestone path 
leading her down to the torii. Here the scarlet gateway towered far 
above, its shadow forming around her upon the stones.
	And here he was waiting.
	Sora stood before her, a warm smile and crimson eyes of serene 
flames having found a purpose to burn. Raven wings behind him 
fluttered slightly.
	"My princess," he said, taking her hand in his and gently 
kissing it. "Milady of the forests."
	She wrapped her arms around his waist, drawing him closer to 
her. They stood eye to eye, drawing warmth in a cool night from 
each other.
	"I have been afraid for so long," he said quietly. "Now 
instead of fearing the sunrise I wait for the next sunset, when we 
can be together once again."
	"How long have you been watching over me?" she asked, resting 
her head against his neck. She felt his gentle hands stroke her 
tresses of chestnut hair, let down and playing in the winds.
	"For every tear you cried," whispered an answer. "For every 
smile you made. For every time you looked up at the moon and asked 
the stars if your soulmate was dreaming upon the same moon. I have 
been there, Mako-chan, and I shall always be with you." 
	"Sora-chan..." she said, heart moved and tears slipping down 
her cheek.
	He tilted her head up and wiped away the stray droplets. The 
torii seemed to capture his vision for a moment, the gateway 
looming before them. He slowly broke away from her, though not in 
fear or sadness.
	But now he beckoned to something else.
	Something of his world.
	She gasped, mouth behind hand as it came into the light and 
burst forth from the rolling mists. A creature of shimmering pale 
moonlight emerged with a fierce clapping of hooves against 
cobblestone. Moist breaths of air steamed from its nostrils, and it 
threw its head about to let its wild mane of silver dance 
possessed.
	Sora whistled to the steed, holding out his hand and calling 
it forth. The steed responded, slowing its gallop and trotting over 
to the lord of the gateway. Nose nuzzled against his arms and into 
his vest.
	"What is it?" she whispered in awe.
	"A Silvermane," he answered, stroking its nose. "They exist 
only within this realm, wild and untamed unless we the gatekeepers 
ride with it."
	With a gentle but firm hand he seized the flowing mane of the 
silver unicorn and pushed off the ground, mounting the steed.
	Leaning over, he stretched out his hand to her. "Ride with me, 
Mako-chan. I ask you."
	She took his hand and found herself atop the mighty back of 
the steed. She sat in front of him, and Sora moved his arms 
underneath hers to take the Silvermane's hair and steady them both.
	He whispered something to the Silvermane, a string of words 
she was unfamiliar with. This was still his realm, and thus his 
language of the dreams. Being a living beast forged from such 
dreams the Silvermane understood, shaking out its mane.
	He tucked his arms around her, reaching out to grip the locks 
of the steed's silver hair. She felt safe in his embrace, running 
her hands down his arms and then taking the mane close to his own 
grips.
	"Careful," he cautioned. "They're fast."
	His point was proven a heartbeat later as the Silvermane 
reared up, kicking out its front legs and giving a fiery breeing to 
shatter the stillness of a dreamy night. The silver creature took 
off with incredible speed, galloping away from the torii and its 
cobblestone path, across grasses and slopes and plains.
	She could feel their bodies pushing into each other, rubbing 
as they were jostled and shook by the incredible pace set by the 
Silvermane. Sora nestled his chin against the base of her neck; she 
tilted back her head and rubbed cheeks.
	They rode beyond the torii and into the mountains. Stone gave 
way to forest and trees encircled them the further down the path 
the Silvermane galloped. Sounds echoed past them, of trees 
breathing with the wind and of animals hidden amidst the shadows of 
the forest.
	Finally the Silvermane slowed of its own accord, trotting a 
brisk pace as it snorted hot, misty air from its nostrils. They 
were journeying into the heart of these mountains, the realm now 
alive with the sounds of other souls.
	"Where are we going?" she asked.
	He smiled. "Someplace like home."
	Rushing water met her ears, and the trees bent back to reveal 
a clearing at the side of a mountain's base. The grasses were low 
and dew-covered, surrounding a pool of crystal moonbeams that 
danced in shades of blue. From the jagged rock face poured down 
water, thick and wet and sloppy.  
	The Silvermane came to rest, and he helped her dismount. She 
sighed; such a place was where her dreams seemed to lie. A 
sanctuary to call her own yet she felt so familiar with this forest 
and its magik.
	Had she been here before?
	Perhaps, in another dream.
	"We are not alone," he remarked, walking hand in hand with her 
into the clearing. Their steed weaved itself into the trees and 
vanished with the green vegetation and dark shadows.
	Two young women were seated next to the water's edge, one 
laying in the embrace of the other. The girl on the grass let a 
hand drift in the current of the pool, aqua-green hair being 
stroked by one with blonde hair that held the golden sands of a 
beach or an hourglass.
	Her mouth was slightly agape as she saw the two seated on the 
grass. She knew them in her world, with their own brand of magik. 
They were her friends, her warriors, her fellow dreamers.
	"Good evening, Sora-san," the sandy blonde said courtly. "A 
beautiful night, is it not?"
	He cast a smile. "Haruka, Michiru...I thought you two might be 
here."
	"You know them?" she asked, surprised.
	He nodded, more to the two women than to her. "We've met 
before on occasion within my realms." He eyes darted to the one 
with the wavy aqua-green hair. "You're the only dreamer I know who 
has tamed a Silvermane enough to let you ride it across these 
fields."
	"It is an honour to see you once more," the aqua-haired one 
said, head bowing with respect. 
	"Of the rarest to tame a Silvermane," he said, turning away 
from the two girls to her. "They are the few who wake and walk 
through this realm rather than dance in their dreams. Their magik 
is strong, their love even stronger."
	He looked into her eyes, lost amidst the emerald forest 
within. Lips touched her forehead with a gentle kiss, his warm 
feathers fluttering to caress her sides. She giggled, ticklish.
	"They seem to be seeking a moment alone," the sandy blonde 
said quietly.
	"It would be rude of us to intrude so," the one with the aqua-
green hair agreed. "Young love deserves such a place to exist."
	Then they vanished like wisps of mist fading in the moonlight. 
She stepped forward, ready to cry out in fear that they had been 
stolen or taken to a strange place now.
	"Don't worry," he reassured her. "They have simply taken to 
another sanctuary within this realm. They care for you, and for me 
just as I care for their dreams."
	His lips touched hers, and there they stood. The moon seemed 
to reach a new pale colour, shining with brilliant white light. For 
a time they laid side by side, her head in his lap as they watched 
the waterfall churn and froth. When he wished to cleanse himself 
in the clear waters of the pool, she remained upon the shore, 
content to watch him frolic in the waters.
	Stripping of everything save his pantaloons, he splashed about 
in the pool, diving and surfacing and swimming. Sometimes to show 
off to her, other times to release his own fears and pain.
	There came a time where he disappeared beneath the surface. 
She watched from the edge, his form gliding beneath the waters 
effortlessly. He emerged from the depths like a dolphin borne of 
the water, eyes closed, mouth open as he breathed in the crisp air 
of his world. As if for the first time he was breathing the ecstasy 
of a dream, her dream.
	The droplets of water splashed onto the surface like rain, 
some resisting and clinging to his body. They wanted a chance to 
glisten off his skin as the beams of the crescent moon blanketed 
the realm.
	With that final action Sora retreated to dry ground. He began 
to wade towards the grassy shores. Tresses of soaked, raven black 
hair flowed about like the very winds of air, his braid lost to let 
his shadows dance free with his spirit. Halfway was the furthest 
to shores he reached as she stepped into the waters to meet him. 
Cloak and bracelet removed she pushed away the unbuttoned folds of 
her white blouse, the damp sleeves clinging to her arms. 
	Naked chest met naked breast. The water lapping at their 
waists, they embraced, souls meeting with their passionate kiss. 
Damp feathers touched her naked back, and she shivered at their 
touch.
	"Sora," she whispered, calling out to him. 
	"Mako-chan," he answered. "I love you."
	Their souls and bodied melted together, hands caressing and 
exploring. She was vaguely aware, as she closed her eyes and rested 
her head against his chest, that the waking hours were calling her 
back.
	Cold water and warm skin sent her mind to a dream of angels 
and silk, of rainfalls, of feathers and cherry blossoms. Of a single 
touch that set her soul on fire as her skin tingled with 
excitement.
	She drifted away, content in his embrace.
	"Mako-chan," she heard his voice whisper. I love you....


	She awoke to the warmth of her covers and comforter. Sometime 
in the night she has slipped beneath her sheets...or had he found a 
way to carry her into bed after she slept in his arms?
The September sun was streaming in through her closed blinds, and 
from somewhere outside she could here the morning caws of a raven 
searching for food.
	Picking up her folds of nightgown from the floor, she moved 
about to dress. Magik tingled within her skin, rushing about her 
body. Everything seemed to possess his crimson eyes. A reflection 
in the mirror. The whispers of a wind. The rustling of the trees. 
The shadow beneath her feet.
	Facing a day of dreaming amidst school's lectures, she stepped 
out into the sunlight of her apartment's veranda. A bird called out 
to her from the railing.
	"Sora-chan," she said quietly, smiling as she saw the raven. 
She smiled, hand outstretched to the shadow bird. The raven 
alighted her palm, perching on her wrist. It cocked its head, 
crimson eyes of tranquility looking up at her.
	"I remember the waterfall," she told the raven. "Arigato."
	With a nod of its darkened head the raven spread its wings and 
soared beyond the trees, having disappeared but not vanished. It 
would return to watch over her, to simply be near her.
	As her guardian angel always had and always would.


	"Mako-chan," the odango-haired blonde said, resting against 
her shoulders. "Ne, Mako-chan?"
	She was still somewhat oblivious to their words or their 
voices. Last night continued to pass before her, the magik 
unfolding before her like sheets of dark silk. Smooth and exotic, 
not entirely real yet not entirely a dream.
	"She's really fallen hard for this Sora," the dark-haired 
shrine girl remarked. "Just look at her. Her eyes are between 
worlds."
	"Are you going to tell us what happened last night?" the long-
haired blonde asked playfully, nudging her in the sides.
	The blue-haired genius blushed slightly at this. "Those things 
really should be kept to the two lovers, shouldn't they?"
	"You were the one who kept on saying last night how much you 
wanted to know," the long-haired blonde replied with a growing, 
mischievous smile.
	The blue-haired genius turned a deeper shade of red.
	"We were at a waterfall last night," she said abruptly. "He 
led me there atop a silver unicorn, and we rode far into a forest 
of living emeralds. When I left, it was in his embrace as we 
kissed...."
	Her voice trailed off.
	The other four around her sighed longingly, the magik still 
reaching out to touch them as it had for her. She had seen fleeting 
images of them before when Sora had shown her glimpses of the 
beautiful dreams he guarded.
	"Makoto," came a new but familiar voice.
	The young women turned to the two newcomers standing at their 
table. Her eyes widened, almost trembling at the precious memories, 
as she saw the sandy blonde and the aqua-green haired woman.
	"Haruka-san!" she exclaimed. "Michiru-san!"
	The sandy blonde winked at her. "Did you enjoy last night 
after we left you two alone?"
	She nodded slowly, still overjoyed to see them so soon after 
the waking dream.
	The aqua-haired woman smiled demurely. "It's been a long time 
since he began watching over you, Mako-chan. And he is a very 
beautiful young man."
	"Are you saying that to make me feel jealous?" the sandy 
blonde inquired.
	"When was the last time you went bathing beneath a waterfall 
with me?" the aqua-haired one playfully answered, turning to her. 
She felt herself blush slightly.
	"You were bathing with him?" the odango-haired blonde 
exclaimed, voice carrying across the cafe. 
	The dark-haired shrine girl sighed. "Usagi, lower your voice, 
please. At least give her some privacy to give us the details of 
this. Baka."
	"We really shouldn't be hearing this," the blue-haired genius 
said, staring down at the table.
	"I noticed you haven't left the conversation yet," the long-
haired blonde remarked. That drew another blush in response.
	The two older women turned and departed with a friendly wave 
of souls who had shared the same glimpse of heaven. She hoped that 
they could meet again in either world. Either realm didn't matter 
to her anymore. Both were merging in her eyes as the magik spread 
through her heart and soul.
	"So," the long-haired blonde asked with a mischievous smile. 
"When are you going to introduce us to your new boyfriend?"
	"It's not exactly like he lives in our world," the dark-haired 
shrine girl said. "He belongs inside this dream realm he guards. We 
can't simply tear him out; I don't know what damage we might do."
	"Can we meet him in his realm?" the blue-haired genius 
inquired. "Mako-chan has already, as well as Haruka-san and 
Michiru-san. Perhaps he can pull us into his world tonight while we 
sleep."
	The magik was with them all, but its power was still cloaked 
in a veil of mystic enigma. There could be no certainty save the 
words coming from the lips of her raven angel. Only he would know 
for certain. Confined to his own realm, only he had the magik to 
draw them in.
	"The most I can do," she answered her friends. "is ask."

	
	Once more, as she had done in the nights passed on before her, 
she stood and watched the reflection of the mirror. Silken sheets 
flowed around her body, breathing with a life of winds and shadow 
fire. They were her own pair of raven wings, causing her skin to 
tingle and her body to shudder at the caress.
	Her raven angel appeared before her, moonlight from beyond the 
glass trickling down onto his dark hair. Wings folded behind him, 
he looked upon her with caring eyes and a fragile spirit. In his 
hands held a single red rose adorned with jagged thorns. 
	The flower had closed against the moonlight, but under his 
fingers the petals moved away and the flower breathed in full 
bloom. He blew upon the rose, a fury of petals sent out from the 
mirror and encircling her. Silk and silken flower met with her 
body's warmth, and she felt as if she were drowning in the magik.
	"Sora...." she moaned softly.
	The black silk, fluttering like the flames of an ancient fire, 
became his wings that encompassed her. He seemed to be with her 
beyond the mirror where the untamed Silvermanes roamed. She could 
feel his fingers stroke her skin, circling and touched with such 
tender passion that she became lost.
	Eyes closed she surrendered to his embrace, the silk folding 
around her as she laid her back upon the bed and let the rose 
petals rain down. 
	"Mako-chan," his voice whispered. "I love you...."


	In the distance was a cobblestone path that led to a towering 
gateway. But that was far away, and here she stood with the grasses 
at the edge of a forest where ranks of trees and shadows stretched 
out from one horizon and curved into the mountains.
	At first she found herself alone; her raven angel was not 
standing and waiting for her. She turned, worried, and then found 
him. He was paying respects, laying down two white roses before two 
grey stones that marked the resting souls of those he once knew. 
Crimson eyes of compassion and gentleness spoke silent words of 
hopes and of dreams.
	The cloak forged of silken emerald billowed out in the wind 
behind her as she approached. His silence asked for respect, for a 
moment to let the memories come and go.
	By their epitaphs she knew who was at rest.
	A long time ago they had been her parents, gone when a plane 
lost its power of flight. Wings clipped, they had died without pain 
or regret or a chance to say goodbye. Sadness now possessed her 
eyes, and though she shed tears she could not fully understand why 
she was crying.
	"Sora," she whispered.
	He turned and took her in his embrace, wings folding around 
her with the warmth of an angel. For a long time he held her there, 
letting her cry as she had once let him cry. So much undiscovered 
pain.
	Such were the scars they all bore.
	"I first met you as a child," he said quietly, stroking her 
loosened hair. "You were six." His eyes trembled at the memory. 
"Your world became lost at this site, and for many nights I found 
you here. Your tears called out to me, pleading for someone to hold 
you. Many nights you slept within the folds of my wings.
	He smiled. "Ever since then I loved you. Many times you played 
and danced among your dreams, Mako-chan, and I was there with you. 
Never again did I want to see such a beautiful face cry, stained 
with tears. Not until you came to me could I hope for this much."
	His grip around her tightened, fear of losing her rising. Not 
the fear of long ago, but of losing her to the sadness that had 
once claimed him. There was no need for the raven angel to fear; 
her hands laced around the back of his neck and she rested against 
him.
	"Promise me you will never leave," she asked of him.
	"Not until the waking hours takes you back," he whispered. 
"And then I shall be watching...and waiting."
	Waiting for the chance to step through the waters that was her 
mirror, to soar through the clouds that held boundaries between 
worlds. For a time, even if it were just a heartbeat, when they 
could be one soul together.
	She lifted her head and they stared into each other's eyes, of 
crimson waters and emerald forests. Cheek to cheek they touched, 
nuzzling in the warmth of touch until their lips found one another. 
Slowly, passionately, they kissed.
	Her hands moved into his vests, unbuttoning the billowing 
folds of his white shirt until her fingers met with warm skin. 
Wings folded and faded in a rainfall of raven's down. This was the 
first time she had seen him without wings. Sora still looked as 
beautiful as when she had first seem him.
	With a gentle pull he released the cloak from around her 
shoulders, the emerald garment drifting to the grasses of the land. 
Her own buttons fell apart, and once again they absorbed the heat 
from each other's body.
	The raven down floated all around her, caressing her tingling 
skin and causing her to shiver. She felt protected as his arms 
wrapped around her naked back, drawing her closer to him.
	Such was the magik shared between them beneath the pale glow 
of a full moon. They listened to the heartbeats beating against 
their skin, two rhythms soon becoming one in harmony. His wings 
returned, carefully folding around her to fend off the cool breeze 
that blew in the night air.
	"Mako-chan," he whispered, stroking her hair.
	"I have a request," she said.
	He nodded. "Go ahead, Milady."
	"My friends would really like to meet you, to see your world 
and to feel your magik. Can you bring them here?"
	With a smile Sora glancing up at the stars, and to the moon 
that ruled the night. Over a millennium had passed since first 
encountering their dances within the dream realm. Had it been so 
long since their magik had captivated his kind?
	"Your friends mean a great deal to you; they are souls I have 
never known yet have watched all my life," he answered. "They have 
been here many times, but within their own beautiful dreams. From 
time to time you all have played together in one dream."
	He stepped back, wings closing around his body. His vest and 
shirt were suddenly whole and covering his chest, as were her own. 
Arms outstretched, his palms opened to reveal a shimmering crystal 
orb in each. Moonlight caught their form and flashed before her. 
	"I can grant your request," he said, drawing his arms to his 
chest. The crystals seemed to merge with his body, disappearing 
into his skin with a sparkle of magik. 
	The grey mists rose up with a sudden burst of tempest, 
billowing clouds drifting across the grasses of the dream world. As 
abrupt as they rose, the mists faded. She looked to the skies as a 
number of solitary ravens flew past, disappearing in the shadows of 
the distant trees.
	Their shadows passed to give way to two new shadows emerging 
from the dying mists. The moonlight caught them, girls with long 
flowing hair of night and day.
	"Mako-chan?" the long-haired blonde said groggily, rubbing a 
pair of drowsy eyes. Folds of nightgown dangled near the grass. 
"What are you doing here?" 
	Her eyes seemed to find joy in finding her friends once more. 
"He's brought us all together within our dreams," she answered, 
embracing Sora at the waist.
	"I thought dreams were supposed to be a private matter!" the 
dark-haired shine girl exclaimed, flustered and pulling at the ends 
of a kimono, hiding the lace garments beneath.
	Sora smiled at the remark. "You are the one who gazed into the 
fire," he said. "I saw you days ago when you searched for me. You 
almost crossed the boundaries."
	"And you littered the room I was in," the dark-haired shrine 
girl replied. "Next time do it outside."
	He laughed. "Ara, next time I will," he conceded.
	The mists parted to reveal a nightgown of flowing oceans hues 
and shades. The blue-haired genius walked with uncertainty in this 
new realm. Crystal eyes lit up as they saw the raven angel and his 
lady of the forest.
	"An honour to meet you face to face," he said, taking the 
blue-haired girl's hand in his. The blue-haired genius blushed as 
he bowed and kissed it, and was still blushing even after he had 
done the same with the others.
	"Where's Usagi?" the long-haired blonde asked, searching the 
plains.
	"Her magik is unique," he answered. "unlike anything my fellow 
guardians have encountered. She shares a dream of love and 
moonlight with another soul much like hers. Give her time, and give 
us patience."
	The odango-haired blonde emerged from a billowing cloud of 
mist that ran along the ground, serene and safe in the arms of a 
dark-haired prince. They were dressed in silken white and black, a 
flowing dress of moonbeams and shimmering armour of the night.
	"My lord, Endymion," he said, bowing to them. "Milady 
Serenity. An honour to have you with us."
	Lady Serenity smiled, as did the dark-haired knight.
	Sora stepped back to join with her, looking at all the friends 
she had asked to be brought into the realm of the walking dreamers. 
Such a long time since he had seen them all together like this.
	"Let me show you an ancient dream," he said quietly, closing 
his eyes. A vortex of water erupted from beneath his feet, 
sparkling diamond white. It cascaded down upon the girls, and they 
closed their eyes in preparing for the touch of wet water.
	Yet they were met with the warmth of a moonbeam.
	Nightgowns had become flowing garments of ocean blue, crimson 
red and sunlight yellow; billowing cloaks and folds of white 
blouses with dark skirts and boots. They were in the midst of a 
dream of old, of lives once lived.
	A palace, ancient and lunar, stood out before them. They 
walked amidst the sparkling lights of the towers and parapets, down 
crystal white pavilions and along shimmering waters of clear ocean 
blue. High up in the sky there was a sliver of earth looking down 
at them.
	Such an ancient magik, their magik. She smiled as she saw the 
wonder and tranquility on the faces of her friends as they walked 
with her. A warmth caressed her skin.
	"I fear my powers will be unable to hold this for long," he 
said with regret. "But showing you this is the least I can do for 
the friends of my angel of moonlight."
	She looked to her guardian angel. "How did you do this?" she 
asked him quietly.
	"Memories can be forged from our magik," he answered, stroking 
her cheek. "This memory has long since been hidden, brought to 
light with instances few and far between, always with blood and 
tears in battle. Here is a chance for you to walk amidst an ancient 
dream without the pain."
	"But the Moon Kingdom existed over a thousand years ago," the 
blue-haired genius said aloud, pivoting to take in every sparkle of 
moonlight aura. "How could you create something so lifelike from 
forgotten memories?"
	He paused, turning back to the girls who were walking with 
their own paces of awe. "We have been guardians of this realm since 
long before the moon sparkled with waters of life and the pillars 
of serenity. You can't imagine our fear when we suddenly felt 
thousands of dreams disappear from our borders, wiped out of 
existence. In one instant we found the dancers cut down from us."
	Crimson sadness of long-lost pain surfaced. "For centuries we 
searched in the hopes of finding your souls once more walking 
through our realm. For centuries we flew between worlds...and found 
nothing. Your magik was different back then. Everything was 
different back then. Now your magik, though the same, has changed 
with your new world. And we raven angels are uncertain of where we 
stand in your eyes."
	Raven wings fluttered, rustling with the emotion. Crimson 
sadness threatened to overtake his fragile heart, but was washed 
away with her touch. She brought his eyes to gaze into hers, to 
find comfort in her gentle smile.
	Clouds of grey mist were blowing across the ocean blue waters, 
steadily moving throughout the ancient palace. It was starting to 
fade. The lonely night was returning, with it a dreamlike day and 
a September sun.
	"Sora," she whispered. "Rest your raven wings."
	The realm of a once whole moon faded, the mists ushering it 
away to allow the grassy plains to take root once more. Mountain 
peaks in the distance reached out for the pale half moon in a 
starry night sky.
	Slowly, reluctantly, he parted from their company, his fingers 
tracing their way down her arm until they clasped hands together. 
Finally he drew back to his realm, his outstretched hand still 
calling to her.
	"If I could wish upon any star out there that might grant a 
request," he said. "it would be that I could wake up in your world, 
your face the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes to a new 
life."
	Closing his eyes he raised one hand to the night, the magik 
becoming real as a crystal orb materialized in his open palm. Raven 
wings were stretched out their full length. The crystal shone, 
catching the rays of the half moon. Beams of gentle blue light shot 
out across the fields, striking the grasses. 
	She held her breath as up from the grasses rose a multitude of 
blue, red, orange and green. Tiny wings beat with tiny beating 
hearts as in one accord these fragile bodies lifted themselves up 
to the heavens. Black bodies and rainbow wings surrounded her.
	"Butterflies," the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, in the 
embrace of the dark-haired knight.
	"How beautiful," the blue-haired genius whispered.
	Her eyes fell upon Sora, already lost in the wave of hovering 
colours. But she saw his eyes. Crimson serenity; that was the 
warmth she felt when the darkened forms of the winged rainbows 
ushered her into the realm of the waking souls.
	"Sora," her whisper echoed across his world. "I love you..."


	The next day followed like the others with the rising of a 
September sun to usher in a hot, sweltering day. Yet the fires of 
sun paled in comparison as five young friends gathered together in 
the front of a Shinto shrine in the dying hours of sunlight.
	Their eyes shared a newfound wonder of the magik within a 
dream, possessed by its gatekeeper and guardian. Something was in 
the air tonight, blowing with the winds of change.
	"Such a warm night tonight," the dark-haired shrine girl said 
quietly, hands held out to catch the fading light of the sun before 
it gave way into another night of dreams and dances.
	"What are you going to do, Mako-chan?" the long-haired blonde 
asked.
	She stared up at the crimson embers of the setting sun, 
shielding her face in the shade of her raised hand. "I don't know. 
I want to believe that we can be together forever, but..."
	Her voice trailed off, knowing how the surface of a mirror 
stood between them, the sealed portal between his world and hers. 
The walking dreamers and the sleeping angels were fated to stand on 
opposite sides of the gateway.
	"Believe in love," the dark-haired knight said, tenderly 
embracing the odango-haired blonde. "I think that is half the magik 
that exists within the realm of our dreams." 
	"Mamo-chan," the odango-haired blonde sighed, blushing as she 
stared into his eyes.
	"He's right," the blue-haired genius agreed. "You've come this 
far, and you can't give up now. None of us will give up on you, 
Mako-chan."
	And suddenly a solitary raven unleashed a sound as it landed 
in the midst. Crimson hope stared out at her, and then to her 
friends. It knew there was something in the tempests of the night. Two 
more ravens settled next to it, familiars to the dark-haired 
shrine girl. They cocked their heads from one girl to the next. 
	"Phobos," the dark-haired shrine girl said quietly with an 
extended arm. "Deimos." The two ravens alighted the beckoning hand, 
delicately resting their black bodies on her skin.
	"Look," the blue-haired genius said, turning around.
	Even more ravens were emerging from the trees, revealing 
themselves from their shadows on branches, roofs, pathways and atop 
the shrine's massive torii. The silence of the birds spoke more 
than anything else.
	"Sugoi," the long-haired blond whispered.
	"What does this mean?" the odango-haired blonde asked aloud.
	She smiled at her friend's question, the answer standing 
before and around them all. "He's spreading his wings," she said 
quietly. "From one night into another."


	The magik seemed to be touching every last part of her body as 
she stood before her full-length mirror. Every touch became his, 
every breath of the wind became his warm kiss against her skin.
	She moaned softly, arms clasped over her naked breasts as she 
gazed into the reflection from beyond day and night. Crimson eyes 
of compassion looked out to her, longing to touch her and keep her 
warm in love.
	The mirror rippled slightly, as if the glass had become water 
and was struck by a tremor of magik. The power that held back 
realms was slowly falling.
	She turned as the fluttering of wings entered her room. Doors 
closed and open windows screened, these wings found a way to enter 
her sanctuary.
	A solitary raven alighted the frame of her mirror, staring 
down at her with a quizzical cocking of its head. Crimson eyes 
looked, but not the eyes she loved. For those eyes were before her 
from beyond the mirror's edge.
	Within the mirror Sora watched the gathering begin, eyes 
passive. His own raven wings folded back, slowly fading as the grey 
mists swirled behind his form in the reflection.
	Fluttering began anew, a second raven taking a perch at the 
edge of her bed. It too looked, but with different eyes yet 
possessing the same magik. The raven said nothing but turned first 
to the angel in the reflection, and finally to her. 
	"Go to her..." she heard a quiet voice whisper.
	A wind of wings began, more ravens entering and perching. She 
was standing in their midst, among a sea of shadow feathers and 
warriors of dreams.
	"Go to her," the ravens whispered. "You dreams have become her 
reality."
	The mirror's surface rippled like the ocean, glassy waves 
distorting their view. A droplet seemed to splash out towards her, 
letting out a cascade of small waves that coursed across the 
mirror.
	He slowly reached out towards her, his palm touching the 
barrier between their realms. More ripples blurred his form, and 
hers from his side of the gateway.
	"The line no longer remains for you," the ravens whispered. 
"Follow your heart to her." 
	His fingers slipped across the boundaries, lacing with hers. A 
gentle pull led him through the mirror. Slowly he pushed across 
realms and boundaries, releasing with him a storm of raven's down 
that rained all around them.
	The ravens gazed upon him with the sadness of leaving an old 
friend. Yet there was a pleasure to see one dream come true, one 
destiny come together.
	"Sayonara...Sorata-sama."
	And then they were lost within the storm of shadow feathers, 
disappearing just as ghosts of a fading dream soon to be forgotten. 
Yet the magik was still his to call upon with a touch or thought, 
for he was by blood one of their world. 
	He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Tears 
streamed down his cheeks, and he could not understand why. A 
turbulent sea of emotions raged within his heart, overwhelming his 
fragile soul. 
	"Mako-chan," he cried, burying his face into her long hair, 
filling his world with her scent. "So long have I searched and 
waited for this moment."
	She gently wiped away his tears. "Sora-chan," she whispered. 
"Through destiny and dreams have I searched for someone like you to 
love, and now I have found my raven angel. I love you."
	He took her hands in his, kissing them. Magik swirled 
throughout the room, taking them both away yet together as one. 
Tender hands met warm skin, caressing, exploring. Bodies tingling 
they came together, with kiss and caress and rhythm of two bodies 
making love.	
	She cried out at that climactic moment, her body glistening 
with sweat. He scooped her up in his arms and held her against his 
warm body as they came as one, one last kiss to mark the end of a 
time together, the first of many.
	That night she slept in the warm embrace of his arms and 
raven's down falling around her body. And when she awoke the next 
morning, she found herself lost in raven feathers and the loving 
eyes of crimson serenity.
	"Mako-chan," he whispered. "I love you..."


	The September sun rose up into the city like a beating heart 
stirring life into the people. It was a day of rest for those who 
were with lectures and studies, and so it was that four girls and 
one young man met together at the grounds of a familiar Shinto 
shrine.
	"Did you feel it last night?" the dark-haired shrine girl 
asked the others. 
	They nodded, having sensed a powerful explosion of magik flow 
past them, both exotic and erotic. Their bodies had tingled and 
felt the hungers of the heart.
	"I can't help but wonder what they did last night," the long-
haired blonde remarked. "I barely got any sleep from all the charge 
my body felt."
	The blue-haired genius blushed slightly. "Minako-chan," she 
said nervously.
	The long-haired blonde leaned her with a coy smile and a 
playful grope. "Oh, Ami-chan, don't tell me you didn't feel so 
excited last night."
	The evoked a deeper blush.
	The odango-haired blonde simply sighed peacefully, leaning 
into her dark-haired knight. Last night they had been together when 
they felt the surge of the magik, and even today they were still 
basking in the afterglow.
	"Do you think he was the only one?" the dark-haired shrine 
girl asked, looking out to the trees beyond. "Do you think there 
are others like him out there...searching?"
	None had an answer.
	Then eyes turned as two figures walked up the steps of the 
Shinto shrine, traveling beneath the towering red torii. A young 
man and a young woman, hands clasped together, leaning against 
each other with gentle smiles.
	He was dressed as they had always seen him before within the 
dream realms, his long braid of raven dark hair fluttering in the 
winds. The wings were no longer visible, though he still held the 
magik to make them appear.
	She was dressed in more formal attire than usual, of a 
vibrant, shoulderless shirt of silken emeralds, and dark jeans of 
night. Tresses of chestnut brown hair flowed out from her large 
ponytail, and around her neck shimmered a pendant shaped like a 
pale white rose blossom.
	Wide and sparkling eyes looked out to each of them. She 
smiled. "Everyone," she said to them all. "I would like you to meet 
Sora."
	Sora nodded to them all, crimson compassion looking into each 
of their eyes. "Tell me of your dreams," he asked.


=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 2nd Night - The Emperor's Tale
Rated R


	Phantasm: (n) 1. a product of phantasy.   a: delusive 
	  appearance; illusion; deception.  b: ghost, spectre, 
        spirit

			  -Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary



	Just as every breath possesses an instance that can be brought 
to life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for 
others to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the tale.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a 
thousand dreamers and their dreams. Within every soul lies a story 
to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many 
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. 
They belong in her embrace. But the dark angels, these Shadowdemons 
and their Empress belong to another, and they are of my skin and 
soul. I embrace their world and their shadows as my own children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their 
creators. The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong 
to Naoko Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a 
part of her stories. But the realm of the waking dreamers, and both 
the angels and the demons that exist within them, are a part of my 
own story.  Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles 
beyond the moon, and my Shadowdemons belong in their realms where 
the nightmares lurk. 
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for your 
requests if you wish my Shadowdemons to wander into other worlds 
and other stories.

	-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)



	 Let those love now who never loved before,
	 Let those who always loved, now love the more.

				-Unknown, "Vigil of Venus"



	There they rise again, a chorus of fierce howlsongs and 
roars to echo across the valleys and mountains and plains 
that make this place the Dreamworld.
	I can see them perfectly now, an entire pride of them 
moving faster than an eagle over the treetops. Leaves are
raining down from the winds they stir in their wake.
	Dragons: lords of the skies, beasts of fire.
	In many of my wanderings I have encountered the forms 
of these winged creatures soaring through the eternal skies 
of night, their shadows cast in an eerie pride of 
silhouettes before the light of a pale moon.
	Ancient faery tales have cast a dark light upon 
dragons, making them wild and destructive creatures. When 
knights struck them down and slayed them, it was seen as an 
act of justice. Yet the tales have never been so simple.
	In my walks from one corner of the Dreamworld to the 
next I have learned of legends regarding these winged 
beasts. They are almost extinct even in this world, though 
rumours still abound of a sanctuary kingdom where the 
dragons live in peace and serenity.
	I have yet to stumble into such a place.
	Perhaps it is just as well that I haven't.
	Regardless of how myths have portrayed them, dragon 
souls are not unlike ours. They can be kind or cruel, 
peaceful or rampant. It is all a matter of their hearts. And 
their loyalty to their emperor, and the magik he wields.
	Let me tell you a story....


	THE EMPEROR'S TALE


	It was rain that fell before her vision, though not of 
droplets of water that splashed against the skin. The storm 
was of petals. Cherry blossoms, delicate and in pale flush. 
They were caught by the breeze and danced in the winds.
	Some were then caught by her hand, fingers closing 
around the petals. She brought them close to her face, 
opening up her palm to catch their fragrance before 
releasing them back into the winds.
	"Strange that it should rain these blossoms here," she 
said to no one but herself, brushing some trusses of long 
blond hair from her shoulder. 
	She stood atop an ancient step pyramid, grey stone 
shining like silver from the light of a pale crescent moon 
high overhead. Glyphs and carvings marked the pyramid's 
structure, running down along the steep stairways that led 
into the dense jungle forests far below.
	Her fingers touched her clothes: a blouse of silk, dark 
like the wings of a raven. A beautiful sash of gold draped 
over her shoulder, the ends fluttering in the winds near the 
formal dress pants of pearl white that disappeared into 
black boots. 
	So formal in appearance, yet so elegant, deserving of 
royalty. In truth she had been royalty in another life, far 
away and long ago from this one.
	Closing her eyes to feel the burst of the winds cool 
and refreshing against her face, she sighed. He would come 
again, just as he had night upon eternal night. Just as he 
had promised whenever they were forced to draw away into 
their own worlds.
	She turned and stared up at the massive torii towering 
before her. A gateway between worlds, a marker between 
borders. It was here that she had found him riding the wings 
of a thousand beasts breathing the essence of fire and 
flight.
	"Kishi," she whispered, calling out his name.
	The torii burst into flames of crackling blue and 
white, consuming the form of the gateway yet not the gateway 
itself. The blue aura lit up the entire horizon, and she 
could now see from one end of the world to the next. There 
was jungle forests, dense and thick and swelling with warmth 
in the air. Hundreds of sounds came to life as creatures 
stirred with the explosion of ancient magik.
	Countless other step pyramids reflected the light off 
their silver stones, each one rising up like a plateau from 
the green realm of the jungle forest. And there were shadows 
moving on those pyramids, with form and life.	
	The fires of the torii faded though they did not die out. 
Instead the gateway was filled with the glowing embers of 
the magik's aura. A brilliant violet was cast upon her face 
as crimson met blue.
	And standing before her beneath the gateway was a 
shadow flickering with shades of purple. He stepped out 
towards her, hand outstretched. Dressed in a black gown with 
a crimson cloak around his neck and billowing behind his 
figure, he gently lifted the back of her hand to his lips.
	"Milady," he said with a kiss. "I am here."
	The broad collar of his robes fluttered around his face 
where flowing moss green hair danced around his sapphire 
eyes. Her fingers brushed away the strands of blue-tinted 
bangs located above his right eye.
	"How long has it been?" she asked.
	"Too long," he answered. "Eternal night has passed 
before me and yet it has flashed by in a heartbeat now that 
you are here."
	She giggled slightly, flattered. "Ever your charming 
self, Ki-chan." She turned around in his embrace, shivering 
as his warm breath touched the back of her shoulders.
	She moaned softly as she felt the caress of his fingers 
move down her neck and breasts. Her own hands clasped with 
his and she directed their movements down the contours of 
her body.
	"I would enjoy your company atop the back of a dragon," 
he said quietly. "The chance to see the beauty of their 
kingdom, and for them to see your own beauty." 
	Her arms reached out behind her head to cradle the back 
of his neck. Eyes closed, she was lost in a world of his 
touch and caress, of his breath and voice.
	"Milady Minako," his words whispered into her ear, 
causing her entire body to tingle. "Fly with me tonight."
	"Kishi," she answered, slowly turning to gaze into his 
eyes. Sapphire met sparkling sapphire. "I--"
	And then the chimes sounded.


	She groaned as her alarm clock went off, snapping her 
out of that other realm. Groggily she stirred from beneath 
the covers of her warm bed and slapped a hand down on the 
alarm. 
	The chimes were silenced, and slept.
	"Why couldn't I have set it later?" she lamented, her 
mind still lost in the memories of the kingdom of the 
dragons.
	A single red rose was suddenly before her, hovering in 
the air for a moment before it softly touched her pillow. 
Two rouge petals parted and chose their own path through the 
air.
	One was caught in her palm.
	"Arigato," she said quietly, unable to hide her smile. 
A finger traced its way between her breasts, down her 
nightgown. Oh how she wished to find herself in those robes 
once more, in his embrace.
	Her eyes drifted over the alarm clock and panic set in. 
"Seven fifty?!" she exclaimed, throwing herself out of the 
reverie and her warm bed. In the process she also managed 
to send her feline companion tumbling onto the floor. 
Contrary to popular belief cats didn't always land on their 
feet.
	"I'm getting too old for this," the cat muttered, 
picking himself off the floor. He spoke and could be spoken 
to, for he held within him a magik that had existed for over 
one thousand years.
	His white body slowly turned to his frantic master. 
	"Artemis!" she said. "Why didn't you wake me when the 
alarm went off the first three times?"
	"I did," the cat replied. "and all you did was roll 
over. Come to think of it, I don't even think you woke up at 
all. You were just mumbling to yourself in your sleep." 
	Her eyes rested upon the single red rose, still upon 
her pillow; they widened. She quickly snatched up the rose 
and hid it behind her back before the feline could see its 
presence.
	Suspicious eyes narrowed before her nervous giggling. 
"Minako?"
	"Ne, Artemis?"
	The glaring time caught her attention, and she was 
thrown into another fit of chaotic disarray as she scrambled 
to prepare for high school.
	"You think finally entering high school you would be 
mature enough to get there on time for once," the cat 
remarked, and was promptly rewarded with a nightgown flung 
on top of his body.
	She grabbed a hairbrush and quickly brushed out her 
long blonde hair. Time was of the essence and while she was 
late, the faster she ran the more she could arrive on time.
	She raced out of her bedroom, school bag in one hand 
and the other reaching out to toss a slice of bread into the 
toaster. After a few seconds of waiting she slipped into her 
school shoes, and with bag and breakfast slipped out through 
the door.
	The September sun was still hot and bright, on the 
verge of being relinquished into October. For a moment she 
forgot about school and enjoyed basking in the warm rays. 
She paused, glancing down at the darkness beneath her feet.
	Her shadow.
	And within the darkness she could see fires both 
crackling blue and fiery red flicker behind the mist. And 
with them was the face of her guardian. 


	Her friends had gathered together beneath the shade of 
a tree as a morning full of studies passed by. Now a noonday 
September sun was overhead, the tree's full blossom shading 
them from the light.
	"Ami-chan!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, yanking 
a book from the blue-haired genius' hands. "We're not here 
to study! We just came from that!"
	"Gomen," the blue-haired genius courtly replied, 
snatching the book back and opening it up to a specific 
page. "It was just a passage that fascinated me:

	     'The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
		But I have promises to keep,
		And miles to go before I sleep.'
				
	"Robert Frost," the blue-haired genius said. 
	"How magical," the tall brunette sighed, leaning into 
the arms of her lover. "I wish I could see those woods one 
day."
	"Perhaps one night, then," the dark-haired angel 
replied, arms wrapped tenderly around the tall brunette. The 
tall brunette giggled as the dark-haired angel tickled the 
skin beneath the school uniform.
	She smiled at the young couple. It had been an 
incredible experience to share when the raven angel had 
brought them all into the Dreamworld and then returned to 
forever be with the tall brunette.
	Now a guardian of a mystic realm was living with them, 
with the tall brunette. It was magik that had given the 
raven angel a new life here in Tokyo, at their school.
	"My world," the dark-haired angel said. "holds a 
hundred different forests, each one as beautiful as the 
next. Mako-chan, we can visit the springs again."
	"It's a date, Sora-chan," the tall brunette answered.
	As the others enjoyed the company of the lovers' magik, 
she found herself lost in thoughts of silver step pyramids 
and a fury of fire and dragons.
	"What about a jungle forest?" she asked.
	Sora gave her a quizzical look. "Why do you ask about 
that?"
	She could feel her face heat up, though not from 
blushing at the raven angel's pretty face. The memory of a 
promise made surfaced, a request of her Dragon King.
	"No reason," she said, nervously giggling it away.
	"Minako-chan," the odango-haired blonde said 
suspiciously, leaning closer to her. "Are you hiding 
something from us?"
	"No!" she said, nervous laughs returning. "I just 
happened to see this jungle forest in the distance one 
night."
	"Out looking for a boyfriend?" the tall brunette asked. 
"Well, my Sora-chan's taken. You'll have to find yourself 
another raven angel in your dreams."
	They all seemed to sigh wistfully at the memories of 
such dreams, of magik rippling beyond boundaries and 
crossing into their world. The first night the tall brunette 
and the dark-haired angel had slept together set off an 
incredible spark within each one of them.
	She knew that they all were looking for someone to 
watch over them and protect them, to love them and walk 
through worlds to be with them. Such a love the tall 
brunette and the odango-haired blonde had found.
	And so had she. But she kept silent, not of 
embarrassment or out of fear. It was out of a promise he had 
asked her to make. That her friends would not learn of his 
name or of his world. Though she did not understand his 
reasons, she could see his eyes of sapphire pleading to her 
to grant his request. 
	Sora's arms held the tall brunette as they leaned 
against the base of the shading tree. Such fragile 
compassion in those crimson eyes; it was no wonder the tall 
brunette had fallen in love with those eyes. 
	But the eyes she had fallen in love with were of 
brilliant sapphire, belonging to a young man in black and 
scarlet who was a gentle emperor over his pride of dragons. 
She looked up into the leaves of the tree.
	A hundred eyes flickered in the shadows, staring down 
at her, watching over her. Though confined to the darkness, 
raven wings clipped, they still found a way to find her in 
this realm. A hundred eyes of dragons keeping her safe.
	She knew that somewhere amidst those eyes, he too was 
watching and waiting.


	The sunlight had faded, giving birth to another night 
to sleep and perchance to dream. Her feline companion was 
gone for the night, out upon her request. Curious but 
complying the white cat had given her leave to be alone.
	And yet not alone.
	With one final stroke through her hair she set down the 
hairbrush and turned to the mirror of her vanity. Sapphire 
eyes that belonged to her reflection stared back, and then 
fingers reached out to touch the glass surface.
	For a moment she stared at herself. A soldier of love 
unable to tell of her own feelings because of a promise. 
Such was the extent of her love for her Dragon King. Weeks 
had passed since he first came to her, since she first found 
herself standing atop the silver step pyramids with a torii 
high overhead.
	She rubbed the base of her neck, her hand trailing down 
between her breasts and then tracing around them, drifting 
down her soft belly. She could feel his magik drifting with 
the winds of her room, opening her up to his caress and his 
touch.
	Her body tingled, hairs rising. 
	The shadow upon the floor looked up at her with eyes of 
darkness and a form becoming only of her. It had been this 
way for so long, stepping where she stepped. Once it had 
been the perfect mimic.
	Once. Now it was possessed of his magik.
	The shadow of her body rippled, changing with 
metamorphosis invoked only by ancient magik. Slowly the 
shadow rose up from beneath her feet, contours growing and 
filling out until arms and legs and breasts became visible.
	Fingers parted and reached out, clasping her own hands 
and feeling the warmth of her breasts. She moaned softly as 
these fingers played with a nipple.
	She was staring at herself now, face to face with 
Minako. Long blonde hair wrapped around their bodies like a 
warm blanket, smothering her with crackling magik.
	Minako-of-the-shadows gracefully slid behind her as she 
stood, arms brushing against her skin and then tenderly 
holding her. She sighed, closing her eyes as she felt her 
shadow's warm breath tingle across her neck.
	Small kisses worked their way up to her lips, and she 
turned her head so that their lips could meet. Minako-of-
the-shadows faded into darkness, its form changing once 
more. Long blonde hair became shorter and moss green, the 
fingers laced with hers gripping her hands tighter.
	"Kishi," she whispered.
	Her pleas were met with his kiss, passionate and 
filling her body with a desire to join with him once more. 
It had been so long since her shadow had become a part of 
his strange magik. 
	"Minako-chan," he said quietly. "My princess of love."
	Her eyes closed, her body sinking into the covers. She 
could feel cloth and covers wrap around her body as she fell 
into the realm of the waking dreamers. With one last, warm 
moan she slept. And her shadow dissipated as the lights in 
her room faded to night.


	A thousand eyes overhead seemed to glow down at her, 
not eyes of stars but of winged creatures flying amidst 
them. She leaned up against the torii, watching the dragons 
dance and swoop, spouting fire in brilliant infernos.
	A smile crossed her face as she felt someone come up 
behind her, wrapping arms around her waist. "You were late 
tonight, Kishi," she scolded him softly.
	He nuzzled his cheek against the base of her neck. 
"Gomen, Milady. It couldn't be helped." 
	A black rose with tangled thorn appeared in his hands, 
lifted up so that she could smell its sweet fragrance. With 
her touch the petals curled back into blossom, the tips 
changing to a radiant shimmer of blue. 
	She sighed, leaning against him. "It's beautiful. And 
after all, you still call a rose sweet only if it doesn't 
prick you first."
	A smile grew across his face. "That's 'a rose by any 
other name would still smell as sweet', Minako-chan." He 
opened his palm and the winds scattered rose petals across 
the starry sky. "Though when I found it I though of your 
face, this flower pales when compared to your beauty."
 	"You always know when to say the right things," she 
said, playfully tickling his sides. He laughed, squirming 
out of her expert fingers.
	"It's hard keeping up the messenger of love," he 
stated, kissing her forehead. He turned towards the 
expansive green realm spread out across the horizons.
	"The jungle forests are so pretty tonight," she said.
	"They are, Milady." For a moment he seemed lost in 
another realm apart from both dreams and the waking hours. 
The brooding in his eyes faded as he surveyed the jungle 
forest below them.
	"Ki-chan," she asked. "What is it?"
	He blinked, shaking himself free and with a tender 
smile looked into her eyes. "Nothing, Milady. Just random 
thoughts not deserving any more attention. I want you to be 
my focus."
	With a sweep of his arms she found herself pressed 
against him, chest to chest and lip to lip. They embraced 
and kissed, the winds throwing up a gale that flung his 
cloak of darkness over them both, the crimson interior 
concealed beneath its veil of a starless night.
	Yet when they parted from the kiss the winds did not 
stop. They continued, furious gales that reached out across 
the jungle forests of an eternal night. The skies lit up as 
streaking bolt of lightening flashed in the distance, 
casting a brilliant violet shade across their skin.
	"We should get inside the pyramid, Minako-chan," he 
told her. "The storms are always soon to follow."
	There was no rainfall. Instead there was an army of 
lightening and rumbles of thunder that echoed across the 
darkened sky. The full moon grew hidden as pulsating furies 
of black clouds poured out across the heavens.
	"Such an odd storm," she remarked, staring at it from 
the safety of the pyramid's entranceway.
	"The furies of my kingdom are unlike those of the other 
domains within the Dreamworld," Kishi answered. "There is no 
rain, but a brilliant display of lightening. I must admit I 
find these storms rather beautiful to watch."
	"Usagi-chan would be terrified of this," she said.
	A streak of lightening erupted before them, a flash of 
light flooding the entranceway as a rumble of thunder shook 
the step pyramid. Though the silver stone monument was more 
than firm enough to handle such a storm, she found herself 
leaping into her Dragon King's arms with a startled cry.
	He laughed, not cruel or malicious, but just because he 
loved being with her and sharing in her sometimes immature 
antics. 
	"Now you see why I enjoy these storms so much," he 
said, staring down into her eyes with playful sparkle of 
sapphire.
	She responded with a run of fingers up his sides, 
causing him to laugh with her touch. He squirmed a little 
more before catching her up in his embrace and kissing her.
	"Come," he said, parting lips to lead her down into the 
heart of the pyramid. "Let's get away from the storm, 
Minako-chan."
	Inside the step pyramid she found herself in the 
company of dragons, the interior of the silver structure an 
enormous cavern dressed like a ballroom. Pillars, columns 
and caryatids adorned much of the rotunda, with a series of 
waterfalls and fountains carved out from the rock.
	Numerous dragons of all sizes and shimmering colours 
looked up with her and Kishi's entrance. Their heads bowed 
reverently--though more to her than to their emperor. They saw 
Kishi as one of their own dressed in mortal skin. But the 
dragons saw her as one deserving respect just by the way her 
long blonde hair danced around her shining face and slim body.
	Tiny claws playfully wrapped around her shoulder, and 
she giggled under the tickling tongue of a dragon no larger 
than a small cat. 
	"Suna-chan!" she exclaimed under the affectionate licks 
of the sandy-coloured dragon. She had named him after the 
beach sands its hues so resembled. The dragon gave a series of 
hoots and clicks.
	"Ah, it would appear he smelled you coming," Kishi 
remarked.
He called to the tiny dragon in their own language, of 
whistles and clicks and strange-sounding words that might be 
used to invoke magik. But she had grown used to dragonspeak, 
and was actually catching onto their speech.
	She smiled as she watched emperor and dragon play 
together. When she had first come to this place, to this 
pyramid beneath the torii, Suna was a mere new-born, small 
enough to fit into her palm. That dragon was of a breed who 
were lesser in size, acting more like pets than the grand 
fliers who were either sleeping or lazily looking around the 
rotunda.
	With Suna perched on his shoulder, he led her past the 
relaxing bodies of the greater dragons. Her eyes widened and 
she nearly started to drool at the sight presented before 
her.
	There was a large series of fountains with water 
splashing and moving before a window that gazed out to the 
thick tops the jungle forests. But beside these fountains was 
a dining table and chairs, carved from exotic crystals and 
set for a meal. A thick but moist, chocolate brown pudding 
was laid out in a series of small silver bowls to be eaten.
	"Chocolate mousse!" she exclaimed happily. "You 
remembered!"
	"How could I forget?" he replied with a mischievous 
smirk. "You ate nine bowls of that dessert the last time I 
offered you some. I swear you have the appetite of my 
dragons."
	He laughed despite having her elbow playfully jabbed 
into his ribcage. 
	"You're so mean!" she teased, and then darted over to 
the table. "Itadakimasu!"
	As they sat down, he seemed content to watch her as she 
hungrily wolfed down the mousse with a speed and ferocity 
that matched her odango-haired friend. Yet for a moment, 
only a moment, he looked out into the storm and the brooding 
returned as he saw himself within the clouds. But that faded 
as he returned to the warmth of her smile.
	"What is it?' she asked.
	"Nothing to worry over," he answered.
	The storm continued throughout the night, and when it 
came time for her to return to the waking hours she asked to 
lay in his embrace. With gentle love in his eyes he nodded.
	"Anything for you, Milady."
	Safe and secure, the company of dragons and their 
emperor to keep her warm from the raging furies and rolling 
thunder, she slept.  


	She awoke to the beams of a September sun trickling in 
through her blinds. This was a day afforded to sleeping in 
late; no worries about racing to school. Rising from beneath 
warm covers was slow but rewarding.  
	A quick glance down at herself gave the revelation that 
she had slept without her nightgown, the garment crumpled 
next to her bed. With a stifled gasp she snatched up the 
nightgown and tried to cover herself as best she could.
	Luckily her feline companion was still sleeping. She 
slipped into a change of bra and panties before the feline 
awoke; when the white cat did stir, a bath followed with the 
opening of two weary blue eyes.
	"When did you get in last night, Artemis?" she asked, 
reaching for a hairbrush.
	The white cat looked up from the bathing ritual. "Late 
enough to find you in bed," the feline replied groggily.
	"Didn't get any sleep?" she asked, teasing her 
companion. "Were you out with Luna all night long?"
 	Defensive panic set in. "No!" the white cat protested. 
"Nothing of the sort! But you were moaning and moving around 
so much last night I couldn't get comfortable. What were you 
dreaming about last night?"
	She paused in brushing out her blonde hair. Her Dragon 
King, a brilliant storm, sleeping in his embrace and gentle 
kisses; they all passed within her memories. 
	"Why do you ask?"
	The bathing ritual for the feline abruptly ended. 
"You've been acting strange lately," the white cat said, 
both concerned and suspicious. She tried hard to act 
natural, and unfortunately succeeded. It was impossible to 
hide the look of someone who just let a secret out, the look 
of...of the cat who ate the canary and just got caught.
	The feline's eyes narrowed. "Are you hiding something 
from me?"
	She gave a nervous laugh. "Like what Artemis?"
	"What were you doing last night before you went to 
bed?" the cat asked cautiously. "I mean, you 
weren't...wearing your nightgown."
	"Artemis!" she exclaimed, lobbing a pillow at the cat. 
"Hentai!"
	"I wasn't the one having the erotic dream last night," 
the white feline muttered darkly after having taken the full 
brunt of the flying pillow.
	She sighed, choosing out her attire for the day: a 
white t-shirt under a set of bluejean overalls. Keeping her 
romance with Kishi a secret was really starting to take its 
toll on her. Everyone was growing in their suspicions.
	"Where are you going?" the white cat asked her, hopping 
onto her vanity.
	"To the Fire River Temple," she answered.
	The white cat's ears twitched. "What have you been 
eating, Minako? Chocolate?"
	She froze, moving a hand in front her mouth. Another 
problem with walking through two realms. Again a nervous 
laugh. "Just another midnight raid to the fridge!"
	Before her companion could get any more words in, she 
spun around and charged out from her bedroom, out from 
potential danger to her promise.


	"Is this all a dream?" she had asked him a long time 
ago, a time when the wonder of his domain could capture her 
with a mere gaze upon the jungle forests. 	
	He nodded. "It is, Milady. A realm apart from yours yet 
joined together at the soul."
	She swung around behind him, this time the one to 
embrace her arms around his waist. Kishi's hands clasped 
with hers. A hint of innocent curiousity arose as she felt 
her breasts press into his back.
	"Where are your wings?" she had asked.
	He became tensed, his grip tightening around hers. "Not 
all the guardians here are given wings," he answered, a 
strange sadness locked within his voice. 
	"Something wrong, Ki-chan?" she had asked.
	He shook himself free of his solemn expression, the 
smile returning as he cast his gaze upon her. "No, Milady. 
So long as I can look into your brilliant sapphire eyes, 
nothing could possibly be wrong."
	"Charmer," she said, playfully tickling his sides. As 
much as he pretended to hate it, he was unable to hide the 
fact that he rather enjoyed her "attacks".
	Atop the largest of all the step pyramids of silver 
stone he took her hand in his, bowing slightly to kiss it. 
"I would be honoured," he said. "if Milady would dance with 
me."
	"Anything for a dragon king," she answered
	And so they had danced before a pale crescent moon, to 
music that somehow came to life across the darkened skies of 
the night with chimes and whistles and woodwinds as the 
evening breeze swept past them. And in the final moment when 
everything came to crescendo, when a pride of dragons took 
to the air in a majestic parade of fire, he held her close 
and kissed her passionately.
	That had been her final memory before she had awoken in 
her own bed, in her own world. 


	This time she hid her emotions well from her friends, 
though not with something concealed in perfect darkness. The 
warm glow on her face and the giddy smile of having spent a 
night together with her Dragon King hinted to the others 
that something was up.
	"I know that look," the odango-haired blonde said, 
frowning on being left out of a secret. "That's the same 
look Mako-chan had when she first started dating Sora-chan."
	She blushed slightly; had she been that obvious all 
along? A burst of nervous giggles escaped her lips as she 
waved it all aside. The odango-haired blonde also began to 
giggle, and then was suddenly right in her face with a 
solemn stare.
	"Who are you dating?" the odango-haired blonde 
demanded.
	She toppled over by the close proximity of her friend's 
voice, letting out a startled yelp that seemed to cause a 
lapse in everyone's suspicions.
	"Usagi," the dark-haired shrine girl said with a weary 
sigh. "Let her be. If she had a boyfriend, Minako-chan would 
have told us already."
	She giggled nervously again. "Rei-chan's right. After 
all, I'm Sailor Venus, the messenger of love! And you can 
only trip while running into love so many times!"
	"That's 'only fools rush into love'," the blue-haired 
genius groaned, correcting the muddled quote. "Minako-chan, 
how much studying have you been doing?"
	She feigned deaf ears, still nervously giggling. 
Thankfully the right distraction came with the tall brunette 
and her dark-haired angel entering the cafe.
	"Sorry we're late," the tall brunette said, sliding 
into the booth.
	"And where were you two?" the odango-haired blonde 
asked with a teasing suspicious tone.
	"We woke up late," the dark-haired angel said. "We 
forgot about the time and spent the entire dream riding 
through the beaches of the northern shores with a herd of 
Silvermanes." He slipped into the booth next to the tall 
brunette and then tenderly clasped her hand. "It was 
breathtaking, wasn't it, Mako-chan?"
	The tall brunette nodded, and they met with a quick 
kiss.
	She sighed at their affection, eyes darting over to the 
blue-haired genius. "Ami-chan," she whispered. "You're 
blushing again."
	"Oh...am I?" the blue-haired genius remarked, turning a 
new shade of red with embarrassment.
	The conversations began anew, and they all seemed to 
forget about her hidden romance as the tall brunette and her 
raven angel told a tale of a dream filled with crisp ocean 
air and a dozen galloping steeds of silver throwing up sand 
as the waves licked their hooves.
	She found herself lost again with a haunting image of a 
silver step pyramid lost within the dense green realm of a 
jungle forest, the crimson torii's silhouette cast in the 
moonlight. A pride of dragons rising up from the pyramids, 
taking to the skies with a brilliant display of fire and a 
rainbow of sparkling scales. An emperor of strange magik and 
an even stranger past, yet one whose fiercely determined 
eyes of sapphire softened when they saw her.
	"Ki-chan," she sighed quietly.
	No one seemed to notice her quiet calling, and lost 
within that memory of a dream she didn't care whether or not 
the world had heard.


	"I've always wanted to ride a Silvermane," she had said 
once. "To feel the wind race past me atop the steed, and to 
feel you pressed against me."
	Many nights she had flown with him on the backs of 
winged dragons, and saw the beauty of his realm spread out 
before her in an exciting blur of winds and skies. Yet while 
she enjoyed the company of dragons, the tales of the tall 
brunette's encounters with her raven angel and the 
Silvermanes left her wishing for such an intimate prelude.
	"I cannot call a Silvermane," he had answered solemnly. 
"They do not roam through this part of the Dreamworld; the 
jungles are too thick for them to pass."
	"What about Sora?" she asked. She was certain all those 
who existed within the Dreamworld knew of the legendary 
raven angel. Not the first, but of the few who were able to 
cross through realms and destinies into the embrace of their 
beloved.
	He smiled, and for a moment she thought it was a smile 
of bitterness. "His domain was central to the roams of the 
Silvermanes. And now that he is not longer a guardian angel, 
he can ride them out from the domain that would otherwise 
bind him here in this realm."
	Her eyes widened. "You can't leave these pyramids?"
	He nodded. "Hai, Milady. Each guardian is sworn to 
protect a kingdom of the Dreamworld. Unless they wish to see 
its destruction they must never wander from its boundaries. 
All that is of lush jungle forest is for me to watch over. 
That is what binds me here."
	For a moment something clouded over his sapphire eyes, 
a grave secret of the shadows. "That is all that binds me 
here...." he whispered, as if wishing to believe his own 
words.


	The night was swept in by a radiant moon and an army of 
stars in the heavens. And with it a night spent beneath a 
pale moon atop a silver pyramid.  
	She smiled as she looked upon the familiar jungle 
forest. Tonight her feline companion had been in her bedroom 
when she had slipped beneath the covers. As much as she had 
wanted to feel his caress, she knew that her cat also 
mattered.
	The black robes around her ruffled in the cool winds, 
her crimson sash fluttering around her shoulder. She 
shivered slightly; the breeze was cooler tonight than usual.
	Abruptly she felt warm, tender hands run up her sides, 
and she fought off the urge to laugh at the tickling. She 
failed, giggling and squirming out of Kishi's grip, spinning 
around to face him.
	Demurely she wrapped her arms around his neck and 
kissed him. He did not hold back, responding with equal 
passion in his lips. Another wind swept past her and she 
shivered again.
	"Are you cold?" he asked, concerned.
	She nodded. "A little."
	He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Allow me, 
Minako-chan." Closing his eyes he brought his palms up to 
her cheeks. She moaned softly as suddenly the aura of his 
mystic magik around her.
	She felt as if she was slowly lowering her body into a 
steaming hotspring on some faraway mountain peak. Her legs 
tingled right up to her thighs, a warmth spreading out from 
her torso. 
	"Open your eyes," his whisper came.
	When she did she discovered that she was now waist-deep 
into a steaming hotspring. Tucked into the side of another 
step pyramid in the far corner of the jungle forests, she 
could see out beyond the rocks a realm of beautiful valleys 
and gorges laid out in a green carpet of plants and trees.
	Her breath was taken away by the magnificence of it 
all. "How did you...?" she asked. Her robes had vanished, but 
this would not have been the first time he had seen her 
naked breasts. Or her naked for that matter.
	He smiled, a mischievous sparkle of sapphire in his 
eyes. "Magik is not unknown to me, Milady." Leaning back in 
his seated position, his garments had also vanished but 
submerged up to his shoulders in the warm waters. "I hope 
this will warm your beautiful body."
	"There's something else I need," she said coyly, slowly 
approaching him. Her long blonde hair danced around her 
glistening body.
	Kishi glanced around the hotspring, suddenly uncertain. 
"Did I forget something?" he asked.
	His answer was her lips pushing against his, her body 
pushing his onto the rocks surrounding the spring. Her 
breasts pressed against his skin, warm and tender. Their 
arms wrapped around each other, though quickly moved to 
explore. She moaned softly as she felt his fingers caress 
one breast, drifting down her belly.
	"Ki-chan," she whispered into his ear. Her tresses of 
blonde hair covered them in a golden blanket.
	She took the initiative, and together they moved 
together in a rhythm of passion. The magik was spreading all 
across the hotspring, their bodies tingling as their motions 
of making love drew about a wave of exhilaration shared 
between them.
	"Ki-chan!" she cried out in that vital moment.
	A wave struck, washing over her with an incredible 
feeling of pleasure and magik. Her skin was tingling as if 
he was caressing and stroking every inch of her body. She 
laid down on top of him, exhausted but smiling as she looked 
into his eyes.
	"Minako-chan," he whispered, brushing away some of her 
blonde bangs. He cared for so much for her, the compassion 
shining through his sapphire eyes.
	She closed her own eyes, arms wrapped around his body 
as they shared in the warmth of both the hotsprings and each 
other.
	"Minako-chan," his voice whispered beyond realms. "I 
love you..."


	No one spoke of the night before; they all understood 
what had happened. Ever since the tall brunette and her 
raven angel had made love that one night, everyone could 
feel the magik stir the passion inside their bodies and 
souls.
	In dreams they felt one another kiss. In waking their 
bodies tingled with sensual touch of a passionate night 
spent in the borders of those dreams.
	She smiled quietly, knowing that even though she and 
Kishi had been together last night, there were two other 
couples of the same echoing magik who were active in their 
waking dreams. Perhaps at a waterfall, or in the hotsprings 
atop the ancient plateau far beyond Sora's domain.
	They were learning where to travel at will.
	All around them the autumn season was starting to take 
hold of the Shinto shrine's grounds, the leaves going from 
green to gold. With the warm winds still blowing, sitting 
out on the building's verandah gave them the chance to enjoy 
the scenery of changing leaves.
	"So, who still doesn't have a boyfriend?"
	She was unsure of who spoke the words, though everyone 
grew silent in their thoughts.
	The odango-haired blonde leaned against the chest of 
the dark-haired prince. The tall brunette was also sitting 
in the embrace of the raven angel. Both were basking in 
their own warmth, in the afterglow of a beautiful dream.
	The dark-haired shrine girl sighed. "No luck here."
	"Rei-san," came the voice of the shrine keeper's 
protege. A scruffy but handsome young man came from around a 
corner, dressed in the robes of one who tended to the Shinto 
shrine. The young man paused upon seeing all the others.
	"Oh, you're busy," the young man remarked, rubbing his
tanned neck beneath the thick brown hair. "I take it I can't 
talk to you right now."
	"Not now, Yuichiro," the dark-haired shrine girl called 
out. "I'm with my friends."
	The scruffy but handsome young man bowed and shyly 
retreated back around the corner. The man's affections for 
the dark-haired shrine girl had not gone unnoticed by 
anyone...including the shrine girl herself.
	"What about Yuichiro-san?" the odango-haired blonde 
teased.
	"Usagi!" the dark-haired shrine girl snapped, on the 
defensive.
	"Rei-chan's always so mean to me," the odango-haired 
blonde sniffled, hugging the dark-haired prince.
	"It just goes to show how good of friends you really 
are," the dark-haired prince whispered back. Deep blue eyes 
turned to the blue-haired genius. "What about you, Ami-
chan?"
	The blue-haired genius was hesitant, blushing shyly 
with the admittance that there was no boyfriend in her life. 
There was a careful omission in that there was, however, a 
search for such a boyfriend. 
	"What about you, Minako-chan?" the dark-haired angel 
asked.
	She grinned playfully despite trying to hide the fact 
from her friends that she was indeed in love. She couldn't 
hold back this secret anymore; it was bursting out from her 
eyes and her lips every time she looked or wanted to talk.
	"I knew it!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed. 
"Minako-chan's got a boyfriend!"
	"How long has this been going on?" the tall brunette 
asked, sitting in the embrace of the raven angel.
	"Weeks," she said quietly, looking away.
	"You've been seeing a guy for weeks and only now 
decided to tell us?" the odango-haired blonde said, feigning 
hurt. 
	She laughed nervously, waving it aside. "It's not like 
we've been really dating or anything, Usagi-chan. We've just 
been meeting inside our dreams."
	"He must be a lucky soul," the raven angel said. "It's 
not every day a man meets the messenger of love."
	She blushed slightly at that; the face of her friend's 
lover was still beautiful enough to capture anyone's 
attention. Yet the face she longed to see once more held 
with it a fierce dedication and at the same time a charming 
smile.
	"So what's his name?" the dark-haired shrine girl 
asked. 
	For time she was silent, contemplating. Was this the 
right time? Would he understand if she told them of his name 
and of his world? But in truth the point of no return had 
been crossed.
	"His name is Kishi," she answered. 
	"Aren't you going to tell us anything else about him?" 
the blue-haired genius asked.
	She shook her head. "Not yet. Another time, perhaps."
	"She's just doing it to tease us," the tall brunette 
said.
	"Or make us jealous," the odango-haired blonde added 
with a pout.
	"Usagi-chan," the dark-haired shrine girl said. "You 
have Mamoru-san...Baka."
	The odango-haired blonde laughed. "That's right! I have 
Mamo-chan!"
	She smiled at her friend and her leader; more vivacious 
and childish than any of them, when push came to shove the 
odango-haired blonde always had the strongest will. 
	Her blue eyes saw the dark-haired shrine girl. "What 
about you, Rei-chan?" 
	The dark-haired shrine girl shrugged, and sighed, 
casting deep violet eyes out to the shrine's main pavilion. 
Somewhere out beyond the trees a faint ghost seemed to walk 
by. "Perhaps. Maybe. I don't really know yet."
	"Rei-chan's got a crush on Yuichiro," the odango-haired 
blonde teased again.
	"Usagi!" the dark-haired shrine girl exclaimed 
indignantly.
	"We've known that for a long time already," the tall 
brunette remarked to the raven angel. That got a quiet 
chuckle in response.
	As the two good friends, hair of night and day, began a 
usual routine of trading insults and raspberries, the blue-
haired genius sighed quietly, a silent wish for the touch of 
a raven angel's magik.
	The sands of the hourglass that marked sunset were 
falling fast, and dusk was close to setting upon them. 
Excitement rose within her just as the moon slowly rose into 
the night. Soon she would be with him again.
	She parted company from them in good feelings, relieved 
to have the burden of hiding her Dragon King from the 
others gone. But there was a moment where she suddenly felt a 
cold chill run through her body.
	That was when she saw Sora's face watching her, solemn 
and dark.


	She was surprised to hear the call of her mother in the 
later hours of the night. "Minako!" came her mother's voice 
from downstairs. "A visitor for you! It's Sora!"
	She ventured down the stairs to meet him, and then 
showed him up to her room. The raven angel had made quite an 
impression on her parents despite the fact that they knew he 
was the tall brunette's boyfriend. She had overheard them 
talking about how, if he wasn't already taken, he'd be 
perfect for her.
	"Did you want anything?" she asked. 
	Sora shook his head. "No, thank you, Minako."
	Her eyes bulged at the sight her less than tidy room. 
With a gale of nervous laughter she tried to scramble and 
throw aside her clothes and books and stuffed animals.
	"I'm not usually this messy," she said.
	"Not around visitors," the white cat added, looking up 
from a place upon the foot of the bed. "What brings you 
here, Sora?"	
	"I need to talk to Minako," Sora said, eyes darting 
over to the white cat. "Alone. Gomen, Artemis."
	With a roll of blue eyes the feline hopped off the bed 
and started for the bedroom door. "That's alright. I'm used to 
it by now."
	"Have you at least told him?" Sora inquired, closing 
the bedroom door behind the cat.
	"I told him when I came home," she answered. "He was 
more suspicious than any of you. I think I hurt his feelings 
by keeping it a secret."
	Sora glanced away, something flickering within his 
crimson eyes. Something that gave dire prophecy to a grim 
destiny. "You said his name is Kishi," the raven angel said. 
"Minako-chan, do you know him?"
	She nodded, smiling with his image standing before the 
step pyramid's torii. She could see his shadow robes and 
crimson cloak, that strange streak of blue bangs with his 
moss green hair.
	"Do you know him?" Sora asked again, voice gripped with 
a solemn tone. This was not a mere question. It was a 
challenge.
	"He is without a past that he can remember," she 
admitted. "That shouldn't be a problem." She smiled, trying 
to catch some reassurance from Sora's face. "Ne, Sora-chan?"
	Sora played with her hairbrush for a moment, 
contemplating the next words to be spoken. "Minako-chan, 
what I have to say will hurt you more than you can imagine, 
but I fear that my silence will only bring about more 
damage."
	"Sora?" she asked, her eyes starting to tremble. Did 
her Dragon King possess a shadow? And what lurked within the 
darkness there?
	"He is not one of us," Sora stated. "I don't know what 
he told you or what you saw, but he is not a guardian of the 
Dreamworld."
	She felt as if her heart had been smashed against her 
ribcage, a chill seizing her body. Now more ever than her 
eyes trembled.
	"He bares no raven wings," Sora continued. "and if I am 
right he has told you that he has no wings. In truth he 
holds another set of wings, ones I know he hides."
	"But the gateway," she protested. "That realm of the 
jungle forests!" There had to be a hope to cling to. A 
chance that everything was simply a misunderstanding? Was 
love to be so fragile that a secret could dash it to shards. 
	"They are not his," Sora answered, crimson regret 
looking at her. "He belongs to those who would threaten the 
peace of the dream realm. He is a Shadowdemon. That place 
you visit when you enter the Dreamworld is one he conquered. 
The guardian angel protecting it was killed."
	An invisible force struck her, but she able to keep 
from reeling. Standing as tall as she could, hands clasped 
together as if to pray, she pleaded in her eyes to the raven 
angel.
	"No...." she whispered. "It can't be."
	"I'm so sorry, Minako-chan," Sora said, placing a 
gentle arm on her shoulder. "The one you love belongs to the 
evil that is against your very dreams. I wish there was 
another way to tell you."
	She lowered her head, a shadow cast over her eyes as 
the light instead struck her blonde bangs. Desperate to keep 
herself from crying before the raven angel, her voice only 
came out in a low whisper.
	"Please...leave me alone, Sora. Please."
	Her entire body was quivering.
	The dark-haired angel sadly watched her tremble, but 
conceded. No other words could possibly help, nor could any 
embrace. She felt so alone all of a sudden, so cold and 
alone.
	Sora paused as he stepped through the door. "I'll tell 
Artemis to let you be."
	She never responded.
	When the door clicked shut behind Sora, she burst into 
tears and flung herself onto her bed, burying her face into 
her pillow. Tresses of thick, blonde hair billowed down over 
her trembling form.
	This was the first time in a long time she had ever 
cried herself to sleep. But the tears of sadness reached out 
into the Dreamworld long before she forgot her pain and was 
lost in the darkness of the dreamers.


	Kishi was standing beneath the torii, stern and grim 
eyes staring out at the jungle forests. His cloak of night 
fluttered around his body.
	And even though he did not face her eye to eye as she 
closed in the distance between them, she knew he was focused 
on her every word and motion.
	"Is it true?" she asked, her voice shaking. She was 
crying out to him to say it was all a lie.
	He slowly nodded. "It is, Milady. Every word. I was 
once a Shadowdemon, and by essence I still am. But I no 
longer fight with them. I am a lone wolf now, Minako, 
without angels nor demons to call my own. That is why I have 
no past."
	The dam burst, and now the tears flowed in a river of 
pain. So this was why he had wished for her to keep a 
secret: he had secrets of his own. She felt betrayed, 
deceived, and all the more frightened of a love that 
threatened to become extinguished.
	"Why didn't you tell me?" she cried.
	Now he turned, sapphire eyes of his own pain watching 
hers. "Because I didn't want to hurt you." He cast his gaze 
up to the crescent moon. "Perhaps it is cruel fate that 
would bring us together like this. I will make no apologies 
for what I once was, Minako. All I hold are regrets. Despise 
me. Spit on me. Burn my soul in anger or plunge it into 
eternal darkness. But know this, Minako-chan: I love you. 
And nothing will ever change that, not even if you decide to 
leave me now and never return."
	"Kishi," she whispered.
	This was a new face before her, one revealed with the 
tearing off of a mask that was so perfect she had never 
known its existence. The face before her now showed an 
honour unlike any other. A willingness to protect her, to 
die for her even if she hated him until eternity's end.
	She walked up to him, bringing his eyes to hers with a 
gentle touch her fingers brushed his cheek. And then she 
threw herself into his embrace, their pain becoming one that 
they would share together.
	"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked quietly.
	"As much as I believe in love," he answered, wrapping 
his arms tightly around her back. "this was a risk I found 
myself unwilling to take. I have seen the raven angel called 
Sora walk with you and your friends. Make no mistake, he and 
I have met before...and the encounter was not a pleasant 
one."
	He stepped out of her embrace, his hands trailing down 
her arms until fingers clasped together. And he began to 
turn the light upon his shadow.
	"Shadowdemons are borne without a face or form," he 
explained. "When I came to this gateway to claim it for my 
own domain, the raven angel here fought fiercely to defend 
this realm. Only until the end of the battle did I finally 
see why."
	His fingers slipped out from hers, and he seemed to 
feel more comfortable avoiding her gaze. Indeed he wanted to 
avoid his own gaze into a soulless creature that still lived 
dormant inside.
	"His last words were of you," Kishi said quietly, 
kneeling down to brush his fingers along the stones. "All he 
asked was 'please'. Before I could do anything his hands 
touched mine and I saw your face.
	"He had fallen in love with you, Minako. His raven form 
watched over you from afar since you were a child. And he 
could not bear to lose you or your beautiful dreams to the 
Shadowdemons. That is why he fought with every last drop of 
magik in his blood."
	Kishi's voice became choked, the forgotten memories 
surfacing and returning with the pain and scars of a life he 
did not wish to possess.
	"When...when I saw your face, your smile, I realized 
just what I had done. Never before had I wished to erase my 
actions. But there was nothing I could do, and he died in my 
arms."
	A tear caught a beam of moonlight as it fell down his 
cheek. It dropped to the stone floor of the pyramid, and 
became lost as it began to rain, soft yet cold.
	She found herself at a loss for words, unable to voice 
the storm of emotions raging inside her heart. Betrayal, 
lies, hope, penance, devotion. And above all else love.
	Kishi turned, staring out at the jungle forest sprawled 
out from one moonlight horizon to the next. "I defied the 
Shadowdemons that night, seizing the fallen raven's domain 
as my own. I became its protector, thought dead by my own 
shadows and scorned by the raven angels."
	He ran his fingers down his cheek. "This face was--is 
the one of the soul who loved you until the end, Minako-
chan. I discovered his love and honour, making it my own. 
And I swear that I shall do nothing to cause you pain."
	They turned towards the jungle forests as the pride of 
dragons he commanded once more spread wings and soared up 
into the night skies.
	"What are the dragons, then?" she asked.  
	Brooding returned to his face, though with the secret 
coming to light the burden was fading from his heart. "They 
were once serpynts, the rampaging beasts of the Shadowdemon 
riders. When I became a rogue soul within this dream world, 
all of my serpynt pride stayed loyal with me. They are now 
peaceful, and thus dragons. This has become their haven as 
it is now my sanctuary."
	Kishi's fingers laced with hers. "All I can do is pray 
that what I do now will wipe clean the blood of the raven 
angels I have slain, that you can still find a reason to 
look upon me with those sapphire eyes, Milady. I won't hold 
any ill will towards you if you leave. If you wish to strike me, 
I will not strike back. Your scorn is truly what I deserve, 
and all I ask is that, even if you do not return to my kingdom, 
please know that I will always love you."
	She turned away, still overwhelmed.
	So many secrets, so much pain. It would take time to 
heal this bridge burned, but at least now the process could 
begin. Yet could she forgive him for such incredible 
deception? She needed time to think.
	Time alone, away from both friends and dreams.
	She opened her mouth the speak, to tell him of her need 
for a sanctuary of solitude. But no voice came through her 
lips, cut off by a new voice entering the Emperor's kingdom.
	"Get away from her, Kishi."
	She turned, stunned by this new voice. There was such 
malice laced in those words that she could hardly believe 
they were spoken by a soul with such a gentle voice.
	"Sora," she whispered.
	Sora's eyes locked on Kishi. "Get away from her," Sora 
said icily, emerging from the torii.
	Kishi bristled, growling. His sapphire eyes flashed 
fiery red. "On what authority?"
	"You would deceive her with lies," Sora said, stepping 
forward with visible intent to unleash magik. "You would 
give her pain and torment. I thought I had seen all the 
evils of your kind, but this is unforgivable."
	"How would you know what hell is?" Kishi snapped 
angrily. 	
	"I'll warn you only one last time," Sora said. "There 
will be no other chance, demon."
	She looked to her lover, who simply broke free from her 
and took a defiant step forward. "So be it then," Sora 
growled. A chill with the winds swept past her, and she 
recognized the aura of his growing magik. 
	"Kishi, no!" she cried out.
	But she was too late in her hopes to end a conflict.
 	Draygn's Fyre erupted, a stream gushing out to the 
raven angel and striking him in the chest. With a scream 
Sora was thrown onto the stones of the pyramid, vests 
scorched and tattered. Blood dripped from the cut across the
raven angel's chest.
	Yet Sora arose and faced Kishi, the two warriors glaring 
at each other as fierce auras erupted from their bodies. She 
was looking from one the next, the events happening too fast 
for her to react. And then she found herself lost in a 
shadow.
	The dragons were swarming.
	"No!" Kishi barked, a swift gesture of his arm to hold 
the creatures at bay. "This is my fight, and I shall take 
care of it."
	Within Sora's palms a fury of whirlwinds gathered, 
cycling and swarming and eager to be unleashed. The power of 
a typhoon, a Devil's Tail soaked in water, summoned upon Sora's
call to the magik still locked inside.
	She could hardly believe what her eyes saw. They were 
both ready to kill each other over her! "Stop it, both of 
you!" she exclaimed. She tried to step forward but a wave of 
their combined magik forced her back, nearly throwing her 
from the top of the pyramid.
	"You really haven't changed since you last tried to 
take my domain of the Dreamworld," Sora said. "All this talk 
of penance is as much of a lie as the stolen face you now 
wear."
	Kishi's eyes widened in burning fury. "KUSO!!" he 
shouted.
	Suddenly the stone beneath Sora's boots shattered, 
exploding and venting up both blue fire and shards of the 
broken rocks. The raven angel screamed as he was caught in 
the eye of the storm, the full power unleashed at ground 
zero.
	The angel's eyes were closed, body tumbling across the 
roof of the pyramid, limp as a ragdoll. Sora finally rolled 
to a stop, bloodied and beaten. Wings were limp at his 
sides, feathers torn off and others still glistening with 
blood.
	Kishi slowly stalked towards the fallen raven, a dark 
glint in his eyes. "Now," he said with pure malevolence in 
his voice. "it's time I finish what I once started."
	Something snapped within her. Now she had a chance to 
react, and all she could fixate on was Sora's eyes weakly 
fluttering open to behold Kishi's final invocation of death. 
 	"Stop it!" she screamed. "Please stop!"
	She came between them, cradling the fallen raven in her 
arms. Sora's eyes closed once more, and he moaned quietly as 
she held him. With their embrace Kishi froze, and then turned 
away.
	"Ki-chan?' she asked.
	He slowly walked away, turning his back as the cloak of 
night swung out around his form. "Leave me now," he said 
quietly. He did not look back.
	"Ki-chan," she whispered, stepping forward with her 
hand outstretched. Now she understood. She had seen his past 
and his pain. There was nothing left for him but a love to 
protect her to his death.
	Suddenly the emperor whirled, eyes ablaze. A fury 
exploded from around him, the gales forcing her back. She 
clung to Sora, holding him tight in fear of his weakened 
form taking more injuries. 
	Kishi seemed oblivious, lost in his own private rage. 
"I said leave me!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the 
jungle forests. 
	A wave of fire unleashed wrapped around them, fierce 
but not consuming. Yet with it was incredible power: the 
magik to send them back to their world.
	The realm of the waking hours.
	As the flames overtook her vision, she was able to see 
the dragon emperor one last time. He had dropped to his 
knees, hands crossed over his chest and clutching his 
shoulders, eyes shut and squeezing out tears. One single 
teardrop shed hurt her more than any number of drops of her 
blood shed.
	"Ki-chan!" she cried out desperately. If only she could 
tell him how much she loved him, that she understood his 
pain. But her voice was lost to the firestorm. And her 
senses lost to the magik of the Dreamworld.


	Sora was still in her arms when she snapped back her 
head to let out a stifled cry. She was half expecting the 
flames to be at her bedside too, but it was not so. The room 
was dark and quiet.
	The red numbers of a bedside clock proclaimed five 
hours since midnight had passed.
	"Minako?" came a groggy feline voice at the foot of her 
bed. Blue eyes widened at the sight of Sora. "Minako! What 
happened?"
	The raven angel moaned weakly, hoarse gasps for breath 
the only sign of life. And those were only making her feel 
worse. His wings were still sprawled out, bleeding and torn 
apart. Feathers littered her room.
	"There was a fight in the Dreamworld," she answered. 
The black robes and crimson sash were still around her body, 
once worn when she lived with Kishi inside her dreams. Had 
the Dragon King used that much magik to fling her out from 
the dream?
	"He needs help badly," the white cat said, voice 
quivering over such a shock.
	She felt Sora's wings rustle, brushing her hands.
	How would the hospitals treat a broken angel's body? 
Did his wounds need medicine or magik? She knew that the 
only ones she could turn to were her friends...and they were 
the ones she feared to face. 
	"Call Rei," she said quietly. "We'll take Sora to her 
temple."


	"He'll live," the dark-haired shrine girl said, closing 
the shoji behind her. Beyond the partition laid a recovering 
angel, though not far from turning the other way.
	Everyone sighed in relief; they all had been called 
about Sora's condition, told to come out to the Shinto 
shrine. But while her friends wore faces of distraught 
shock, she found herself lost in brooding silence. It had 
been a long time the messenger of love had found herself in 
such a state.
	"How long will it be until he recovers?" the blue-
haired genius asked.
	The dark-haired shrine girl's eyes already answered 
before the words came. "He's wounded badly, and slipping in 
and out of consciousness. I don't know how his body heals 
itself...Gomen."
	"You did the best you could," the odango-haired blonde 
said with determined hope. "Don't worry, Rei-chan. He'll be 
awake soon."
	She turned away as a few eyes were cast in her 
direction. She was feeling sick to her stomach. As much as 
she wanted to avoid facing them with the dark truth, she 
knew she had to let it come to light.
	"Who did this?" the tall brunette growled, turning to 
her. She recoiled slightly as the tall brunette's fist 
struck a timber of the building's verandah, the force enough 
to leave a visible dent in the wood.
	The white cat looked at her. "Minako?"
	She lowered her gaze, unwilling to look at her friends. 
"Kishi," she said quietly, the tears starting to gather at 
her eyes once more.
	The second shock of the night hit, and for a moment 
silence reigned.
	"What?" everyone chorused.
	And so she explained everything, omitting nothing from 
Kishi's past or from her dreams. When she finally finished 
describing the battle between Sora and Kishi, no one else 
spoke for a long time.
	Then the tall brunette started stalking out from the 
shrine grounds.
	"Mako-chan, where are you going?" the odango-haired 
blonde asked with concern.
	"I'm going to find this bastard Kishi," the tall 
brunette answered. "I'm going into the Dreamworld." 
	Panic set in for her. "Mako-chan, no!" she screamed, 
racing to stand before her friend. "Please, don't face him! 
He's not a Shadowdemon anymore. Please, let me go to him 
first. Kishi is not evil, Mako-chan!"
	She was crying now, uncontrollably.
	"I don't care," the tall brunette growled. "He's going 
to pay for what he did."
	"Mako-chan...." she whispered with her last plea.
	But despite all this she knew why her friend was going 
to face the Dragon King. Sora had been the first true love 
the tall brunette had ever experienced, crossing through realms
to be with the young woman. And if something attacked the 
raven angel, then they attacked the tall brunette.
	The tall brunette disappeared beneath the Shinto 
shrine's torii and down the front stairs. The others could 
only stand and silently watch the vengeful lover leave them.
	She whirled to the dark-haired shrine girl. "Do you 
have any sleeping pills?"
	The dark-haired shrine girl blinked in surprise. 
"What?"
	"I need to reach Kishi first," she answered.
	"Minako-chan," the blue-haired genius said. "Why?"
	"Don't you understand?" she pleaded. "Kishi's soul is 
torn apart now. If Mako-chan attacks him in this state, he 
will kill her!"
	Her friends still wavered, uncertain to where their 
loyalties were.
	"I love him!" she cried out, dropping to her knees. "If 
you don't give me the pills now, I'll go home and get them 
myself."
	The dark-haired shrine girl looked to the two other 
young ladies for guidance. They could only mirror the girl's 
uncertainty with their own eyes. 
	She felt so alone as she knelt upon the ground. Sora 
was hurt because of her, Kishi was hurt because he loved 
her, and now her friends were being divided because of her. 
Was this love? Or was this the curse of such love?
	Her eyes slowly looked up as she felt a gentle arm rest 
upon her shoulder. The odango-haired blonde was smiling. 
"We'll help you, Minako-chan. I believe in you."
	She felt her soul lift with her friend's smile. "Usagi-
chan," she said quietly, gripping the odango-haired blonde's 
hand.
	The blue-haired blonde looked to the dark-haired shrine 
girl. "If Kishi's as powerful as Minako-chan says, then he 
could seriously hurt Mako-chan. We need to protect her."
	The dark-haired shrine girl sighed. "Okay. For you, 
Minako-chan, I'll get the sleeping pills."


	The dragons were eerily silent this night.
	The Dragon King, their leader and emperor, was standing 
beneath the torii as he silently and grimly watched the 
jungle forests that were of his stolen domain. Whether or not 
he noticed her enter the Dreamworld was uncertain. If he 
noticed, he avoided her entirely.
	"Kishi," she said quietly, approaching him. Her royal 
garments of darkness and crimson fluttered in the night 
winds. 
	"I asked to be alone," he said, his voice harsh.
	Harsh but not sincere in his words.
	She could hear the despair, the longing to be with her 
once more. Yet the pain and sorrow pulled him away, tearing 
at his soul.
	"Let me face Sora's princess alone," he stated. "I 
won't ask for mercy. I won't defend myself. Maybe then in
death I can find serenity and peace for a soulless creature."
	Tears were streaming down her face again. "Baka!" she 
exclaimed, slapping his cheek. "You would throw your life 
away just because of the past?"
	He absorbed the blow, and winced. "The past is what I 
am."
	"The past is what you once were," she stated. "I have 
looked into your eyes and seen compassion. I have been in 
your embrace and felt gentleness. And I have kissed your lips 
and tasted love."
	This was not something she had rushed into. This echoed 
of something beyond destiny, growing in power and magik for 
thousands of years. Kishi had watched over her from afar for 
most of her life. Angel or demon, he still loved her.
	This was love, pure and passionate.
	He stared at her, his own eyes trembling. "Minako-
chan..." he whispered.
	"Ki-chan," she said quietly. "I understand. And it has 
made me realize how much I truly love you. So long as there 
is a day to a night, we will always be together. I will never 
leave you."
	He stood before her and then swept her up in his arms. 
With gentle tears of both sadness and joy he cried. She let 
him cry on her shoulder, her own eyes of tender compassion 
trembling.
	"I owe you everything," he said, straightening and 
wiping away the trails of his teardrops. "My life, my realm 
and my love. Without you I would have no heart or soul. 
Milady, I would be honoured if you shared this dance with 
me."
	She smiled, trailing a fingertip down his lips. "You 
always did know what to say, Ki-chan."
	And they would have danced together under the pale 
moonlight. They would have if the winds were not against 
their love.
	Something stirred.
	Something dark, evil and there among the shadows of the 
jungles. Their kiss was cut short as a cold wind swept past 
the three of them. The winds were heralding a creature as 
dark as the midnight where it lurked.
	Abruptly a cold gale swept past them.
	He swung around, defensively staring out at the vast 
expanse of his kingdom. Sapphire eyes narrowed, growing cold. 
She could feel his entire body tense up, though not like 
before. He was not hiding a secret.
	He was facing a fear.
	She held her breath as her eyes caught sight of a 
pulsating mass of stormcloud move towards the pyramid. Yet it 
snaked out with tendrils that pulled the writhing body of 
darkness forward. Rumbles from the living shadows caused the 
jungles to shudder, though not from a storm. But from 
laughter, dark and evil.
	The cloud descended, holding its pulsating form of 
chaotic darkness. It settled before them both, and two eyes 
opened up from the clouds.
	Eyes of malevolence and terror.
	The laughter began again, harsh and sadistic.
	"Kishi," she whispered, her grip on his arm tightening. 
"What is happening?"
	Yet he seemed oblivious to her words. Instead he spoke 
to the contortions of the darkness. "This is my domain, 
Akurei," he stated, raising one hand over his head. The open 
palm burst into the crackling blue flames of Dragyn's Fyre 
magik.
	He had called the creature by its true essence: an evil 
spirit. A demon yet beyond demons. A nightmare of the 
Dreamworld, living to destroy all that was beautiful. 
	The Shadowdemons had come.
	A cruel smile punctured the darkness with glistening 
rows of hideous fangs. "Ah but you are one of us. Her Majesty 
sent me to find you. For a long time we thought you were 
killed in your conquests. When your power resurfaced, the 
Shadowqueen sent me in the hopes that you were still alive."
	The cruel smile became a scornful glare of hatred. 
"Imagine me finding you here living in a dream you were to 
have conquered, frolicking with these mortals as if you were 
a raven angel."
	"Kishi," she said quietly, her growing concern. While 
she was still a fighter, she was in a state without her 
ability to combat something so powerful. She didn't even know 
if Senshi transformations worked in the Dreamworld.
	"Milady," he whispered, still defensively standing. "Go 
to the torii, and escape before the battle begins. I fear I 
cannot guarantee your safety otherwise."
	The writhing mass of shadows cackled. "Such a pity, 
Kishi--if that is now the name you have taken; your conquests 
were once legend. Now they shall be stripped from our 
memories and you will become more hated than those with the 
raven wings."
	"I would rather become your enemy than a consort of 
your evil," he answered. "Now leave my kingdom or face my 
wrath."
	The darkness cackled once more. "You? One who has taken 
on the form of a fragile mortal body? For such impudence, I 
will tear the skin off your bones and hang your rotting 
carcass in my great hall where the Bogeymen dance in my 
honour."
	Kishi stepped forward, and with an enraged wave of his 
hand defied the words of his former self. "A creature of evil 
has no honour!" he snapped, forced to once more face hated 
memories. "My eyes were opened. Don't you see? There is no 
honour is destroying such beauty! We are nothing more than 
petty ravagers!"
	A menacing growl echoed across the tops of the step 
pyramids within the jungle forest. The Dragon King turned to 
her, eyes pleading for her to leave.
	"Minako-chan," he said. "I don't want to see you hurt."
	She shook her head. "Ki-chan, I can't leave you here to 
face this alone. Not after feeling your pain."
	Eyes of darkness slowly fixated upon her, and she 
cringed under their evil glow. But as much fear as she felt, 
this was not the first nor would it be the last time she had 
faced a battle. She was more than a messenger of love. 
	She was a soldier for it.
	"Is this the angelic little soul who has poisoned your 
mind against us?" the pulsating cloud asked, taunting them 
both. "Is it her beauty that is giving you such pain?"
	"Damn you, leave her out of this!" Kishi snapped, 
placing himself between her and the demon.
	"Such pain in those mortal eyes you've claimed," came 
the rumble of the Shadowdemon. "Let me end your pain by 
ending her life."
	No words were uttered as the explosive wave of blak 
magik smashed into his body, throwing him across the top of 
the pyramid. Dust was sent up in a thick cloud as his body 
tumbled over silver stone.
	"Kishi!" she screamed.
	A multitude of dragons rose up, with a chorus of roars 
that shook the forest from one horizon to the next. They had 
stayed with their emperor and found a new life of serenity. 
And they too were ready to die in defending both it, their 
emperor and his beloved princess.
	"Turncoat beasts," the ancient evil snarled, raising a 
clawed hand with which to strike down the pride of this 
kingdom.
	"Wait!" came a new shout.
	The Shadowdemon slowly turned, burning eyes focusing 
upon the lone female soldier challenging its blak magik. "I 
will not let you destroy such a world of beauty with your 
cruel darkness. I am the soldier of love and justice, Sailor 
Venus. And your evil is unforgivable."
	"Bah!" the Shadowdemon scoffed, darkly amused with her 
actions. "Mortals make no difference. Man, woman, child; I 
live to see them all die." 
	Her eyes burned with righteous anger. And her own breed 
of magik, born of an Earth of waking hours, surged out from 
her body, gathering strength in the aura around her.
	"Venus Love and Beauty Shock!" she shouted.
	The attack struck the darkness, and was absorbed 
without any visible damage. She recoiled in sudden fear as 
the Shadowdemon laughed.
	"Is that the extent of your powers, little girl?" it 
taunted.
	Suddenly the shadows convulsed, the attack exploding 
out from its sides or front or back with a stream of glowing 
orange light. The creature let out an enraged howl. It 
whirled, glaring at her defiant stand.
	"That," it hissed. "hurt."
	Magik of blackest nights and darkest evils began to 
crackle and gather with its summoning. With incredible speed 
a bolt of magik reached out and struck her body.
	She found herself unable to scream as her entire form 
was subjected to the feelings of agonizing pain, as if she 
was being stabbed with hundreds of tiny needles and burned by 
white hot fires.
	Her body was catapulted from the pyramid, sent hurling 
with debris over the precipice of the highest platform. She 
kept her eyes closed, aware that she was plummeting to her 
death. 
	"Kishi," she whispered.
	And then abruptly she felt herself come to a jolting 
stop followed by a graceful flight. Arms wrapped around her 
body to keep her aloft. She slowly dared to open her eyes as 
she felt the wind flowing past her body, now gathered in firm 
arms. She was in the embrace of Kishi.
	And he was flying.
	Twin wings were at his back, dark and leathery like a 
bat, tipped with claws and appearing like those possessed by 
a demon creature. They had torn out from his garments, 
shredding his cloak into tattered strips that danced out 
behind him.
	He brought her back to the top of the pyramid. "This is 
my fight," he said to her. "Know that I only want to protect 
you, to know that you are safe." He glanced over at the 
crimson gateway. "Run beneath the torii. You will leave this 
realm and awaken, and I will fight to see you escape."
	"Kishi," she said, trying to find words to express what 
she was feeling. So much to tell him and perhaps no other 
time left. To tell him how much she truly loved him.
	They spun to the sounds of dragon battle cries and 
vicious howls. The pride serving their emperor converged in a 
ferocious swarm around the creature threatening their domain.
	The Shadowdemon struck down the valiant beasts, and 
many rained down with blood and broken bodies. Kishi opened 
his mouth and let out a shout:
	"Enough!"
	His winged comrades backed off as the Shadowdemon 
turned to once again face the reason for its coming. "Ah, you 
are still alive? Impressive that such a seemingly fragile 
body could withstand my powers."
	"Beneath this fragile body lies a force that owns the 
same powers you wield," Kishi stated. He turned to her. 
"Milady, please. I ask you to leave me be. Let me be your 
knight, if only for this one battle."
	Despite all that had happened, all the hurt and secrets 
and tears, he was still willing to die to protect her. He 
indeed loved her, and kept his vow of honour.
	In that moment she fell in love with him even more. 
"Ki-chan," she whispered.
	"You've gotten too damned sentimental!" the Shadowdemon 
snapped, and with a wave of a shadowy tendril it sent out a 
wave of blak magik that caught the Dragon King's body.
	He screamed as he was torn from her grip, catapulted 
across the pyramid, his body stopping only when it hit the 
stone structure that was the pyramid. The silver stones 
cracked apart, crushed by the power of the blow.
	Kishi slumped to the ground, still alive but losing 
strength. He lifted his head only to see a second wave 
rampaging towards him. His body was lifted once more into the 
air, colliding with the torii. 
	The gateway buckled as he struck the base, ricocheting 
off the crimson form to land sprawled out near the edge of 
the pyramid. His wings were bloodied and torn, feebly trying 
to curl around his body for one last piece of protection.
	"Milady...." he rasped.
	"Now witness what such useless emotions have given 
you," the creature of darkness proclaimed. "Shin'ne." And 
with that last word came Kishi's sentence of death.
	His eyes never widened as he watched the frenzied storm 
of magik tore through the stone to reach him, a destructive 
power focused to a single shot that would tear through his 
body in a heartbeat. He had not the time nor the strength to 
retaliate. He watched with both a ferocious glare and a grim 
bracing for what might be his last breath of life. To think 
that for all he had suffered through and won, that he would 
die here, like this. Yet if it was for her, then it would be 
his final act of penance.
	The sickening rip of torn cloth and flesh echoed across 
a silence that seized the air. Blood sprayed out in an almost 
majestic geyser, droplets staining everything around them. 
Once beautiful eyes slowly closed. A heartbeat began to slow, 
doomed to stop.
	He could say nothing. His mouth was agape in shock and
horror as she collapsed back into his arms, the blow meant
for him now dealt unto her. Her form was so slender and small
yet not without its own vibrancy that had first captivated 
his eyes in that fatal battle so long ago. 
	And it was her silhouette now that convulsed, snapping 
back in shock and pain as the attack shot through her. The 
sounds of it puncturing her chest only to punch through her 
back echoed with a sickening ring in his ears. He could see 
bits of her fuku lost from her body, torn apart.	
	Crimson droplets rained down, splashing across his 
cheek. Her blood, her lifeblood now stained the side of his 
face. He was frozen in horrific terror, unable and unwilling 
to allow what he had just seen to be reality.
	"MILADY!" he screamed, catching the fallen Senshi in 
his arms as she fell over. Her blood was all over him: his 
face, his hands, his chest. He laid her down on the floor, 
unable to speak or do anything but watch her.
	"Daijo...bu," she whispered, reaching up to clasp hands 
with him, their fingers lacing together. "Kishi...I--"
	He shook his head, a finger pressed gently against her 
lips. "Shhh," he interjected. "I...I can heal you. Dammit, 
don't you die on me, Minako-chan! I won't let you!"	
	His voice was unsteady and unwilling to admit her 
wounds. He ran his fingers through her tresses of long blonde 
hair. Her blood was soaking her garments and his, a growing 
pool of crimson beneath her body. The wound was too large to 
ignore, to lethal to hope against.
 	She smiled softly through the numbing pain, her fingers 
reaching up to touch his cheek. "Such beautiful eyes," she 
whispered. 
	There was nothing else he could say except to call out 
her name, to call her back into his arms instead of leaving 
him alone in two worlds.
	"Ki-chan," her last breath whispered. "I love...."
	His eyes were trembling in horrific refusal to accept 
what he saw. "IIE!!" he shouted in frantic rage, shaking her 
body. "Damn you, Minako! You promised we would always be 
together! You said you would never leave me!"
	But her lips were silent in death.
	He threw back his head, lifting his voice to the moon 
and the stars and the heavens far beyond. And then a howl 
shattered the stillness of the night, one that echoed across 
the jungles and reached into all borders of the Dreamworld.
	"MINAKO-CHAN!!!"
	He was beyond weeping, jaw clenched though no tears 
came to his eyes. Only rage burned within, searching for a 
direction to vent, for a place to lash out.
	"Now you see," came the cold words of the Shadowdemon. 
"She is but of mortal body. Her beauty was destroyed with a 
mere wave of my magik. You can never find such sanctuary is 
something so fragile as love."
	His eyes widened, burning with the blue fury of a 
sapphire. Fists clenched and drew blood, the crimson streams 
igniting in his palms. He whirled, facing the Shadowdemon.
	"You bastard," he snarled. 
	It began to rain, neither cherry blossoms nor raven's 
down, but water, cold and thick. A torrential downpour, 
brilliantly sparkling as lightening turned the skies into a 
pulsating storm of enraged magik. 
	"Return to us," the Shadowdemon's voice drifted past 
him with the gales of wind. "Return to our Empress...or feel 
the frailty of this mortality you have chosen."
	Kishi tore his eyes away from the darkness, from what 
he was, and held his fallen princess. She had loved him 
enough to be willing to die if it meant protecting him. He 
had been willing to face the same fate.
	But why her? Dammit, why her?
	Time became lost as he gently ran his fingers down her 
cheek. He forgot about what he was, the shadowy reflection of 
his past looming before him. All he cared about was her 
stolen beauty, her stolen life.
	"I may be immortal as a demon," he said, his words 
echoing across the winds of the ancient evil. "But I would 
rather spent a short time in the arms of love, in Milady's 
embrace than live forever in a cold black night of the 
Shadowdemons."
	Gently he took her in his arms, holding her body 
against his, nuzzling cheek to cheek. She was growing cold 
already. Such a hideous feeling.
	"I wish I had been the one to fall," he whispered to 
her. "Forgive me, Minako-chan. I failed you." He kissed her 
lips one last time. "I love you."
	Kishi turned, facing his nemesis. The crackle of an 
electrical arc rose up from the ground, wrapping around his 
body. It quickly faded, but was replaced by another. And 
another. And another.
	"One night will come where we shall together again," he 
stated, dedication burning through his newfound soul. "Where 
nothing you can do will destroy our love."
	The Dragyn's Fyre exploded out from his body, 
encircling the top of the pyramid. For the first time the 
Shadowdemon revealed fear at a magik it had never before 
encountered. The flames were still swarming around his form, 
raging out of control. The rippling air that held the fire 
back from sweeping across the entire kingdom in a hellborne 
gale suddenly died, the flames fanning themselves. Forged 
into a new shape the crackling blue flames opened out in 
circular formation, like the petals of a blooming flower.
	And there at its heart was Kishi.
	He growled, reaching up and touching the thick rivers 
of his own blood that were now covering his temple and 
running down his cheek and neck, onto his chest. His hands 
were soaked with blood...her blood. He stalked through the 
flames unharmed, his body moving as if possessed. 
	The court of dragons hissed in low tones, awed and 
terrified by what they had never before seen or felt. He 
failed to hear their voices. His face was lowered to the 
floor, shadows of his shimmering moss-green bangs covering 
his eyes. Yet with every inch of his being he was seething, 
clenched fists trembling in almost uncontainable fury.
	He snarled, slowly raising his head to level a 
murderous gaze with the storm that was the Shadowdemon. A 
deadly reflection of his former self. And two sapphire eyes 
thirsting for revenge gazed into the darkness.
	"Until that night comes," he snarled. "I'll be content 
to see you burn in hell."
	His aura of fire turned the black sky into an eerie 
blue dance of shadows. Not even the rains could end the 
burning flames. The dragons were reaching a frenzy, feeding 
off of his exploding magik.
	"I found a reason to possess a soul," he stated. "I 
found a reason for living. And even if it means my own death 
I will not let you steal the only thing I have left to 
treasure."
	"Damn you," the Shadowdemon hissed.
	"I'm already damned!" he snapped. He raised his hands 
ramrod over his head, palms shaped to cup the crackling blue 
fires that were swarming around his body. "And if it must be 
that way forever, then you shall join me."
	Something swept across the tropical jungles, something 
with enough force to send cracks sprawling across the step 
pyramid, something powerful enough to cause the Shadowdemon 
to brace itself against the blast.
	It was magik borne of a different emotion.
	One that demanded retribution no matter what the cost.
	Glowing sapphire eyes opened wide in rampant ferocity. 
All his hair danced wildly around his face as gales rose up 
atop the pyramid with enough force that the billows of winds 
could be seen as waves of misty grey.
	A battle aura unlike any other erupted from his body, 
tearing the garments from him, fabric scraps incinerated upon 
leaving his skin. The blast sent numerous dragons sprawling 
backwards across the neighboring pyramids with a startled 
yelp. Even the Shadowdemon seemed to back away into the heart 
of the heavens as the aura of hidden magik unfolded before 
them all.
	A mandala of markings appeared on the ground, circling 
around him, each with a different and ancient rune glowing 
upon it. The silver rock just beyond the ring of runes were 
suddenly shattered into dust, the pulverized remains 
exploding into up into the skies.
	His eyes closed, fingers moving into strange gestures, 
lips chanting barely audible words. Suddenly the runes 
glowed, and from the edges of the jungles, pillars of light 
bearing the same designs as the runes shot into the black 
heavens, moving across the skies to form an enormous 
Pentagram that engulfed the entire kingdom. Five seals, five 
magiks, five furies: all were at his call.	
	His command.
	His desires.
	A mark upon his forehead flickered, the rune strokes 
erupting into beams of searing blue light. And it was the 
seal of Shadowdemon, the mark they held as loyal servants to 
their Empress, the pure unrefined magik of their Queen given 
unto them. Black smoke poured out from behind him, flooding 
the pyramid and swarming around those caught up with the 
battle. It engulfed her silent body. It engulfed the dragons. 
And then it swallowed up Kishi and the demon.
	Everything became like night, dark and cold.
	Eyes of pure lust for revenge leveled with the 
Shadowdemon. 
	"HELLION SERPYNT!" he shouted. 
	A raging firestorm exploded from where he stood within 
the circle of runes, and he disappeared from sight in 
crackling scarlet flames that swallowed up the blue fires. 
Scarlet turned to black. And within the darkness two blood 
red eyes slowly opened. A growl escaped the magik.
	The Hellion Serpynt had been awakened.
	And it was hungry.
	"SHIN'NE!!!" Kishi bellowed, flinging the shockwave 
that carried with it the beast into the dense darkness that 
was the Shadowdemon. The Hellion Serpynt, invoked from a 
slumber lasting millennia on end, searched for a prize to 
satisfy its hunger. The magik wrapped itself from flames into 
form, giving birth to a monstrous creature with burning eyes 
that looked to devour what it could. 
	It found the Shadowdemon.
	"Impossible!" the creature of darkness exclaimed. "The 
Hellion Serpynt serves no one but our Empress!"
	But it hungered, and looked to claim a victim. And 
Kishi knew this. The entity of the Shadowdemon would be 
enough to content the rampaging beast and let it return to 
slumber. 
	Jaws opened as it fell upon the Shadowdemon, and rows 
of blazing teeth shimmered as they sheared through its form. 
The Hellion Serpynt clamped down, thrashing about and tearing 
the evil to shreds that were consumed in the coils of the 
fiery beast that closed all around.
	"One of us!!" the Shadowdemon screamed pathetically, 
its howl fading as it became oblivion. "Traitor! You were 
once one of--!"
	And then the evil that was once a Shadowdemon was 
destroyed forever. The Hellion Serpynt unleashed a delighted 
roar, the roar taken up by a chorus of dragon howls. With one 
explosive burst the summoned beast took to the heavens, 
turning black night into brilliant noonday before it was lost 
among the stars and the clouds.
	Serene darkness of the moonlit night returned once 
More before the rains began again.
	The magik faded away.
	Exhausted, both in mind and in matter, Kishi dropped 
wearily to his knees. The dragons of his pride alighted the 
top of the pyramid; some tending to him, others gently taking 
up the body of his beloved princess and carrying her to him.
	"Minako-chan," he whispered, placing himself overtop of 
her, wrapping his arms around her. "I loved you. Forgive 
me...."
	A solitary tear streaked down his cheek, nearly lost in 
the rain. Yet it stayed as a tear until it fell from his face 
and touched the pale skin of her cheek.
	He drew back as the teardrop shimmered with new light
and life on her face. Slowly her body began to glow, caught up 
in an aura he had never known or seen before. The aura of a 
guardian angel's magik.
	Her body lifted into the air, gracefully hovering 
before him. The Dragon King slowly rose to his feet, reaching 
out to touch her floating form. Upon his palms resting over 
her chest, the aura exploded into a blinding light.
	He flung his arms before his face to shield his eyes. 
And when he lowered them, he realized how much of a soul he 
truly possessed, for he felt it suddenly take flight as his 
princess stood before him.
	"Kishi," she said, taking his hand in hers.
	Her wounds were healed, her life returned. Those wide 
and sparkling sapphire eyes stared out at him, a smile across 
her face. For a moment he was too stunned to react. Recovery 
was a heartbeat away and he swept her up in his arms, raising 
her up off the ground with a wondrous laugh.
	He gently brought her down, their cheeks nuzzling and 
their lips meeting together in a fierce, passionate kiss. A 
new magik had been born unto the angel with demon's wings, 
and with it a miracle had been granted.
	"Milady," he whispered. "My princess of love."
	"Never again shall we be apart," she said, holding him 
tightly.
	Abruptly his entire body convulsed, jerking him away 
from her grasp. But this was not of pain or death; instead 
something else born of a new magik. And with new birth came 
new pain. But unlike the torment of a demon's wings, this 
pain would pass away quickly.
	With an explosive flood of raven's down, Kishi was lost 
from her view. Water turned to feather, raining down gently 
upon the pyramid. The storms ceased, and as the cascade of 
raven's down washed past her, there the Dragon King stood.
	He now wore the wings of a raven angel.
	Lifting his eyes up to the moon, he smiled. "Arigato," 
he whispered as a flight of raven shadows left their perch 
upon his torii and faded into the pale light of the moon. For 
a moment he caught sight of a young man with shining white 
hair and a golden horn watching him from above before the 
figure disappeared with the ravens.
	Arigato....
	He turned to her, holding out a hand. 
	"Please," he asked of her. "Show me your world."


	The morning sun of a dying September month rose up to 
bring light and heat to the world. New life was stirring 
within the city, yet in the grounds of a Shinto shrine there 
was no sleep to wake up from.
	Four weary young women found comfort in seeing the 
sunrise, for the night had brought with it turmoil and 
apprehension. The tall brunette had been called back, now 
laying next to her fallen raven.
	It was the blue-haired genius who saw the two figures 
slowly walked up the steps and cross beneath the torii. 
"Look!" she exclaimed, pointing to the silhouettes.
	The rays of the sun cast a new light upon the shadows, 
revealing a young man and a young woman walking side by side, 
hands clasped together.
	The young man wore royal garments of black and crimson 
that had once belonged inside a dream. His now tattered cloak 
had been discarded. The young woman also wore royal garments 
of black and crimson, the shoulder sash ruffling in the 
breeze.
	"Minako-chan!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, 
racing out and embracing the young woman.
	She smiled and patted the odango-haired blonde's head. 
"Usagi-chan," she said quietly. 
	One by one the others came out, each one watching the 
young man. The dark-haired shrine girl had suspicions. The 
blue-haired genius had concern. The tall brunette had eyes 
fit to kill.
	"If I have hurt you in any way," the raven knight said, 
bowing to them. "then I am indeed sorry."
	The tall brunette growled, but was cut off.
	"Let him be," she said to her friend. "You don't know 
what happened last night. Please, Mako-chan, let me explain 
first."
	Against her better wishes, the tall brunette backed 
down.
	"Kishi," came a new voice.
	All eyes turned to Sora, who had awakened. Recovery 
with his magik seemed to come quickly, and though his walk 
was wobbly it was till strong. The tall brunette came to his 
aid, letting the raven angel lean against her for support.
	Two souls, once enemies now faced each other.
	"I don't care how you see me," Kishi stated. "I don't 
care if you love or hate me. But I have gone through hell to 
be with Minako-chan, and I will ask that you at least respect 
that. You have every reason to hate me, Sora."
	The raven angel nodded. "That I do. Why should I 
believe you now?"
	"Other than the fact that I am here?" he inquired, eyes 
narrowing. Suddenly two enormous wings of raven's feathers 
erupted from his back, spreading out to encompass them both. 
Sora barely flinched as the torrent of feathers blew past 
everyone.
	"Then you indeed summoned the Hellion Serpynt," Sora 
stated solemnly. "For the sake of Minako-chan, I will accept. 
Betray her once more, and I will not hesitate to destroy 
you."
	Sapphire gazed coldly into crimson.
	Neither one backed down. Yet neither one attacked.
	"So be it," he finally agreed.
	It was once said by an enigmatic wanderer that every 
soul was destined to possess a ghost, something that would 
haunt every living creature. A darkness to the light perhaps, 
or a demon to the darkness already there. To remind us of 
what we are, to show us of what we have become no matter how 
much we are terrified by the mirror's true reflection. And 
other times...to give us the chance to forge a new destiny. 
To change what we were and follow a new life.
	He looked upon her face, and it shone like an angel's. 
	She turned to her friends, to the raven angel standing 
in their midst. "Everyone, this is Kishi, my raven knight. I 
have a story to tell you...."


=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 3rd Night - The Wanderer's Tale
Rated R



	Lost: (adj) 2.a: having wandered from the path; 
	  unable to find the way  b: no longer visible  
	  c: lacking assurance or self-confidence; 
	  uncertain as to the direction or location; 
	  bewildered; helpless. 

			-Webster's 3rd International Dictionary


	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be brought 
to life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for 
others to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a 
thousand dreamers and their dreams. Within every soul lies a story 
to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many 
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko 
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. They 
belong in her embrace. But the lost soul of the Wanderer and the 
Dreamworld he travels through belong to another, and they are of my 
skin and soul. I embrace his solitude and secrets as my own 
children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their 
creators. The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong 
to Naoko Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a 
part of her stories. But the realm of the waking dreamers, and the 
enigmatic nomad who journeys eternal amidst this place, are a part 
of my own story. Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles 
beyond the moon, and my wanderer belongs with a destiny to roam the 
Dreamworld. 
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for your 
requests if you wish for the raven of the shadows to wander into 
other worlds and other stories.

	-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)



	"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
	 But I have promises to keep,
	 And miles to go before I sleep,
	 And miles to go before I sleep."
							
				-Robert Frost
				 "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening."



	"When we are weary, we speak lovingly of dreams as if they 
	 embodied our true desires--what we would have when that 
	 which we do so sorely disappoints us. But for this wanderer, 
	 the concrete world has always been the true object of his desire. 
	 And weariness only came when the world seemed dreamlike."
				
				-Anne Rice, "Ramses the Damned"


	
	For centuries I have wandered this realm that is the 
Dreamworld. Perhaps blessed, perhaps cursed, to be between two 
worlds yet not a part of either one. There is an inherent danger in 
trying to forcefully cross beyond the gateways. Magik may be 
powerful, but it is also arbitrary. And can shift loyalties if used 
wrong.
	I learned such a lesson many years ago. I am but a myth in my 
own right, a ghost in the darkness. My dreams are filled with 
wanderings of beautiful realms and hellish kingdoms. I have no place 
to call home. It's been so long that I don't think I could ever feel 
at home unless I was without one.
	Though I may seem lost, in truth I know exactly where I am. No 
matter how dark the skies seem to be, no matter how hard the rain 
falls down upon you, there will come a time when everything will 
end. That is the first moment you reach out and believe in the magik 
that is love.
	Many souls, many dreamers have I met here. Each one has a tale 
I have listened to. Every soul has a tale to tell, and even I am no 
exception.
	Let me tell you a story...


	THE WANDERER'S TALE


	Violet eyes stared into the crimson flames. They burned before 
her, sacred and hot. They had been burning constantly for as long as 
she could remember, for as long as her grandfather could remember. 
	She was a priestess of a Shinto shrine, gifted in her own 
psychic powers and thus alienated by her peers. All until she had 
met the odango-haired blonde, and a soldier's destiny. The world 
grew quiet for a time after that. And for a time she thought 
everything was at peace within her.
	Then came the raven angel. And after him the raven knight. Two 
warriors from a world beyond dreams and dreamers, their own breeds 
of magik vivid and sensual. Each one had crossed over because they 
loved.
	They loved her friends: the tall brunette, the long-haired 
blonde. Such love she had only seen once before with the odango-
haired blonde and the dark-haired prince. And such a love she now 
found herself longing for.
	To find a soulmate, to find someone who cared for her until 
eternity itself came to an end. The magik shared between the 
guardian angels and her friends was one she could feel every night. 
Her body was tingling, excited and in suspense, longing for a 
release in the embrace of one she loved.
	And so she looked to the fire, using its own mystic powers to 
boldly step awake through a barrier that could only be crossed when 
a soul slept and dreamed. Perhaps in there, like her friends gone 
before her, she could find a guardian soul to love.
	They had told her not to pursue it. They had warned her that 
she was reaching into magik unlike any she had ever seen. Both the 
raven angel and the raven knight were grave in their words about the 
dangers in forcefully crossing over. The price was high, the 
damnation near eternal.
	Yet she continued.
	For much of her life she had been here at the Shinto shrine. 
And for the past few years she had discovered a new life as a 
mystical soldier. But now there was no more noise, and all she 
wanted was to feel for herself the passions in her friends.
	Her eyes widened in a heartbeat as the fires burned fiercer, 
the red glow intensifying and bathing the room in a pyre's aura. 
Something was happening; she couldn't lose focus. Not now, not while 
she was so close.
	A ripple of air cascaded through the room. The dimensions 
became warped as grey mists seemed to gush out like a river around 
her seated form. She could feel the crackling magik of the 
Dreamworld all around her.
	She was bringing it into this room. She was so close now, 
closer than she had ever been before. And then she lost control. 
Fear seized her body as a cold tempest flooded into the room, the 
loose folds of her ceremonial kimono dancing in the winds. The fires 
erupted, now a deep blue and brilliant white. Mist was blown about, 
swirling all around her.
	"Na ni?!" she exclaimed, half out of anger and half out of 
terror. Nothing, no words or warnings spoken by the two guardians, 
could have prepared her for this.
	A cloud of mist rose up and attacked, swarming around her body 
and enterring through every orifice on her face. She gagged and 
gasped for air as she felt it seep into her body, spreading like a 
plague.
	"Shimatta," she gasped hoarsely, clutching her throat.
	Her knees dropped onto the wooden floor. The room was blurred 
in her vision. She was barely even aware of the fusama being slid 
open and a young man enter the room.
	His scruffy brown hair was tossed around his face as the gales 
swept past him. The apprentice of the Shinto shrine raised his hands 
before his face defensively, eyes narrowing as he saw her.
	"Rei-chan!" he exclaimed.
	His figure became two and then four. Vision was lost and 
darkness settled into both mind and soul. "Yuichiro," she whispered. 
And with one last stifled moan she lost the battle.
	Her body slumped, rolling onto her back, the glow in her eys 
fading to a dark violet hue. The young man gathered her in his arms, 
desperately shaking her body in the hopes of a revival of her soul. 
But she was beyond his cries. She was beyond his touch.
	She was beyond their world.
	"Rei-chan!" he screamed. "REI-CHAN!!"


	It was cold atop the lofty peaks capped with snow and ice, a 
seemingly desolate place hardly credible for life. Yet there was one 
soul crossing through, leaving footprints in the snow, the winds 
invoking his silver cloak to flap around his body.
	The makings of an illusion gave him warmth. He felt no chill 
though he was wearing a black, formal suit and open jacket. Long 
blonde hair flowed around his shoulders, dancing much like the 
cloak.
	He found it strangely comforting to be alone up here amidst 
the mountain peaks. Though it meant in one way he was alone, in 
another way it too meant he was alone. No need to concern himself 
with the hobgoblins or bogeymen. They had been following him for 
nights on end as it was, finally giving up the eternal midnight 
before last.
	All his eyes could see was the world of waking dreamers far 
below, glowing with its own auras in different borders. These peaks 
marked the highest points of the realm, and from here he could see 
almost everything. Here was the highest point in this realm, left 
alone by both angels and demons. A gateway laid further down and out 
of the snow. But up here there was nothing except him. And yet he 
was not quite there, a mere shadow of the man leaving footprints in 
the snow.
	A sudden gale of cold wind swept past him, sending his cloak 
high above his shoulders in a maddened frenzy. The wanderer turned, 
staring back at the Dreamworld far below. The wave of winds died 
down as abruptly as they had stirred to life.
	He continued to stare down at the borders in the glowing 
darkness, his hand reaching up to slide a pair of shades off his 
face. Two crystal blue eyes solemnly watched the world below.
	"So," he said quietly. "Another has come."


	The sun was beginning to set, spreading dark night across the 
open skies of the city. For many nights gone before, it meant a time 
to celebrate in passion and in magik, to share a lover's warmth and 
touch. But not tonight. For tonight one of them laid beneath the 
covers of her bed, lost within a dark and dreamless sleep. Not quite 
alive yet not quite dead.
	"Rei-chan," the odango-haired blonde cried, still emotional 
after the first few hours of initial shock.
	They all had gathered together after the shrine protege had 
called them. He was upset to say the least, but understood that they 
were a part of this event. He could not ignore the two guardian 
angels and their powers.
	Each girl had come as quickly as they could. Matters were 
already complicated, but since her grandfather had been away paying 
homage to ancients long since passed on, there was less to worry 
about.
	"This is all my fault," the young man said, striking the 
wooden timber with his fist. "If only I had been there sooner I 
might have saved her!"
	"Yuichiro," the tall brunette said, trying to calm him down. 
The stress was showing in all their faces. Such a loss affected all 
of their spirits.
	"We all play a part in the blame," the raven angel countered 
sadly. "Our warnings should have been more than mere words, and now 
she's paid the price and wandered beyond."
	"I'm just impressed she managed to get this far," the raven 
knight said. "I would have never expected a Shinto shrine maiden to 
break through what other, more powerful wisemen have failed at."
	The blue-haired genius glanced over at her sleeping form. 
"Where is she, then?"
	Two warriors glanced at each other, exchanging looks of ill 
ease. "Rei-san's between worlds," the raven angel answered. "In 
trying to open up the Dreamworld to her, she opened herself up to a 
magik that cannot be controlled by those in this realm."
	"It works the same for us in regards to your magik," the raven 
knight agreed. "We cannot force our way into Earth or else we are 
destroyed from the inside out. But now her spirit is walking between 
two separate realms at once, making her but a ghost in either one."
	"How awful!" the odango-haired blonde cried, curling up into 
the arms of the dark-haired prince. The dark-haired prince held the 
odango-haired blonde tightly, a warm embrace giving as much comfort 
as it could.
	"Is that where she is, Sora?" the long-haired blonde asked, 
seated next to the raven knight. "Is Rei-chan in the Dreamworld?"
	Sora nodded, fingers clasping with those of the tall brunette. 
"Hai, Minako. Even now she is awakening. Yet she cannot return to 
her body in this world unless we can find a way to bring her back."
	"What about the Dreamworld itself?" the blue-haired genius 
asked. "How much danger is she facing?"
	The memories of the raven's knight former life and shadow, and 
the deadly battle waged to regain a soul, came back to haunt them 
all. No one spoke for a time.
	"Kishi?" the long-haired blonde pressed.
	The raven knight grimaced. "With Shadowdemons and their 
minions lurking in every corner, she is in very real danger. Rei
 could wake up in the heart of a shadow kingdom. If so we wouldn't 
ever be able to save her."
	"Don't say things like that!" the odango-haired blonde 
exclaimed angrily, hot tears spilling down her cheeks.
	"Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince whispered, trying to soothe 
the young lady with a gentle voice. Deep blue eyes turned to the 
guardian angels. "Is there any way we can locate her aura before 
then?"
	"The guardian angels have too much on their hands as it is 
looking over this world's dreams," Sora said. "And she's now a lost 
soul, nearly impossible for anyone to track. She's become a ghost in 
both realms now."
	"You're only limited in your sensory powers because you are 
limited in where you can go as angels," Kishi stated. "You and I 
both know that as a former Shadowdemon, I held access to the entire 
Dreamworld. I know the scents of every kingdom. Out of the two of 
us, I stand a better chance at finding her."
	The raven angel bristled. "Your kind only used that freedom to 
conquer, Kishi."
	The raven knight said nothing in response, but the expression 
on Kishi's face revealed he knew all too well the truth in the 
Sora's words.
	"Can't anyone do anything?" the odango-haired blonde pleaded, 
frantic to claw for any last hope remaining.
	The raven warriors turned eye to eye, and knew the thoughts of 
the other. "There is only one who could possibly help her," Kishi 
stated. "And he himself is but a myth even in our world."


	Her world was still reeling as she slowly pulled herself off 
the damp earthen floor. The shrine maiden's garments she had worn 
were still around her body, wet and grass-stained. With a groggy 
disorientation that could only come of crossing through realms, she 
tried to regain use of her senses.
	She was sprawled out on the grasses of a forest floor, knarled 
and tall trees looming all around her in a circular border that 
marked a strange clearing. The canopy of leaves overhead had 
swallowed up any light; she couldn't tell if it was night or day. 
Yet the forest seemed to radiate its own aura and despite the 
dancing shadows in every corner she could see. 
	She rose to her knees and finally to her feet. A throbbing 
arose in her skull and faded. "Where...where am I?" she moaned, 
clutching her forehead. 
	Slowly she turned to every angle and saw the forest. This was 
not her world; it did not look like her world nor did it contain the 
magik of her realm.
	"Am I...am I in the Dreamworld?" she whispered.
	What had happened? If only she could think clearer. The fog 
was still rolling around inside her skull, clouding her vision and 
her mind.
	And then she saw beyond the forest: she saw the creatures 
lurking within its borders. They might have, in another life, been 
humans. They possessed the form and slight appearance but that was 
it. Skin tinted purple, bulging albino eyes, savage teeth, elongated 
fingers with claws, a gangly scarecrow-like bipedal stance: they 
were grotesque creatures not meant for the natural world.
	Her breathing quickened as the small cluster closed in around 
her, eyes alight in decadent evils. They looked like goblins or 
kappas. And yet she couldn't accept this; such creatures were myth. 
They never existed in her world.
	Unless this wasn't her world any longer....
	"No," she whispered. And with a grim revelation she knew where 
she now was. The realm beyond the waking hours, beyond the sleeping 
dreamers. This was the domain of the Dreamworld. And the things 
before her were its angels of darkness.
	Minions of the Shadowdemons.
	They were indeed hobgoblins.
	She growled, suddenly on the defensive. Fear was never quick 
to remain in her mind; it was rarely ever an option. If this was to 
be her fate, then she would take down as many of the spawns as she 
could.
	"Ara ara," one remarked, a stretched finger tapping its cheek 
in a dark, quizzical manner. "It would appear a lovely young lady 
has decided to pay us a visit."
	Her head darted from one goblin to the next. They were at all 
corners of her vision, some beyond. Unless she transformed she 
didn't stand a chance. But could she transform here?
	"Shimatta," she cursed under her breath.
	The long-haired blonde had become a senshi once to protect the 
raven knight. Could she do it now to protect herself? Her hand 
reached into the folds of her kimono, pulling out a ward. With a 
rapid chant she summoned the powers of the spirits.
	"Rin, pyou, tou, sha, kai, jin, retsu, sai, zen. Akuryou 
taisan!" she shouted, launching the paper talisman at the nearest 
goblin. It shrieked as the ward struck its face, burning with 
sickening black smoke.
	But the creature simply tore off the ward, a burnt strip of 
purple-tinted flesh left in its place. "She's got real bite to her," 
it cackled. "I love that in a woman."
	She stepped back, faultering. Why didn't the ward work on 
these things? Was it...was it because their magik was different from 
hers?
	"A bitch like her must have an incredible body beneath such 
loose robes," another goblin laughed. "It's like she's begging for 
us to rip it off."
	Her eyes widened in horror as she looked from one creature to 
the next. "No," she whispered. This couldn't be. This couldn't be 
happening.
	They were going to rape her!
	She had no time to even consider transforming. One goblin 
darted forward, tearing at the folds of her kimono and exposing her 
chest. He laughed sadistically at the sight of her breasts.
	"Bastard!" she exclaimed. With a vicious kick to his groin, 
she leaped away as the hobgoblin let out a startled scream, 
clutching his genitals in agony.
	She desperately tried to cover her breasts, disheartened by 
the fact that in doing so she would be left nearly defenseless 
against their brutal attack. There was no time to transform, even if 
she could do that.
	Abruptly something hard--the heel of a foot--struck her back, 
sending her sprawling into the ground. She groaned as the thick mud 
was caked onto her skin, staining her kimono.
	"You damned bitch!" the goblin swore, still panting to control 
the pain. "I'm going to make sure you feel for that one!" He turned 
to the others. "Hold her down."
	She grimaced as he released his member, holding it in front of 
her like he was preparing for torture. "You're going to open your 
mouth and take what I give you, slut," he snarled.
	She struggled, but had neither the strength nor the spirit 
left to keep on fighting. They had already won, and she was going to 
be subjected to a physical hell by their hands.
	"Someone," she said in a hoarse whisper. "Tasukete."
	Help me....
	And then the shadows of the forest came to life.
	One hobgoblin glanced away as rustling swept across the 
clearing of the forest. "Did you hear that?"
	"Shut up!" the leader snapped, eyes glazed over in pure sexual 
malice as he started to kneel forward towards her face. She closed 
her eyes and tried to wake up from this nightmare. 
	"Tasukete," she whispered again.
	Another shadow rustled, this time with an audible thud! as 
something large and heavy landed onto the forest floor from the 
treetops above. Scuffling footsteps, rapid and brief echoed across 
the knarled trunks. It was moving.
	The goblins holding her down were starting to show a new 
emotion: fear. Their eyes were wide, nervously licking their lips as 
their breathing rate tripled.
	"Master," one hissed. "There's something down here!"
	"You ready to swallow it, bitch?" their master snarled, his 
grotesque member practically in front of her face now. 
	Her eyes were open, trembling in terror at what was about to 
happen: she was going to be raped by these savage creatures. She 
found herself fixated on the eyes of her brutal rapist, trying to 
find something human in his inhuman eyes.
	There was nothing but evil.
	And then there was something new. Confusion. Apprehension. 
Fear. The creature forgot about her, his hand falling from around 
his sex as he looked out past her into the forest.
	"What the hell?!" he exclaimed.
	Suddenly his body was blown backwards, struck by something 
unseen yet visible. As if the very air had come alive and forged a 
solid fist. The hobgoblin shouted as his body twisted around, 
crashing into the forest floor--which suddenly became like a river 
of mud that was quick to claim his body and swallow it up.
	His comrades frantically screamed and cursed. She was 
forgotten as they released her and charged to aide their master. 
Slowly she struggled to right herself, propping her upper body up 
with her arms. Her eyes darted to the source of the screams.
	The brutish creature was immersed up to his mouth now, 
burbling and choking on the dark mud. His eyes were wide as they too 
were sucked down, all that was left now were his two arms from the 
elbows up. One hobgoblin made a flying leap to grasp for one hand 
before it went under.
	He grappled onto fingers just as they were claimed by the mud, 
and fought to bring his master up from the cursed ground of the 
forest. Then came slack, and the goblin toppled backwards, screaming 
with a bloodied, severed limb of the master in his hands. The 
goblin's eyes were wide in newfound terror, dirt and blood staining 
his arms. The severed limb was thrown away, and panic swooped into 
the clearing.
	The rustling began again, of something large and swift weaving 
through the trees around them. The hobgoblins were whirling in every 
direction, frightened squeals coming from their mouths.
	And she was also frightened; the entire ordeal growing worse. 
Before she might have been raped. And now she might be viciously 
slaughtered with them.
	The air moved again in a burly, towering form. She could hear 
loud raspy breath as the shadow stalked past her sprawled form. And 
then the beast had vanished, invisible once more.
	The closest goblin was first. His head abruptly snapped 
forward as a geyser of blood erupted from the back of his skull. The 
head was torn off from the shoulders, rolling and bumping against 
the foot of another hobgoblin, leaving a gory trail behind it.
	Only two more creatures remained.
	One was whimpering, darting around the clearing. He was close 
to the trees--one step too close. Roots came to life as something 
reached out and seized his arms and legs, claws digging into his 
skin and drawing thick streams of blood.
	The goblin screamed as the claws pulled him into the trees, 
until he was frozen halfway into the knarled form of the trunk, eyes 
wide and forever trapped in terror.
	But within the trees she could see knarled bark rippling, a 
face emerging. Two large, yellow eyes fixated on her, and then on 
the last hobgoblin alive. The bark rippled and was still.
	She couldn't find a voice for her fear, slowly backing away 
from the tree. Was she next? Was it only attacking those who had 
attacked her? How fast would death come?
	Suddenly the last goblin rammed into her, elbow over her 
throat and fingers tightening around her windpipe, choking out the 
air.
	"I'll kill her!" he screamed in a mad frenzy, his fingers 
tightening around her throat. "You hear me?! I'll kill the bitch, I 
swear!"
	There was a low growl and a hot blast of air from behind.
	And then the hobgoblin screamed his last, hoisted off the 
ground as two enormous claws punched through his chest. The body 
went limp quickly, the goblin drooling blood and spit.
	She screamed in utter terror,throwing herself forward and 
racing. Her tattered and mud-stained kimono weighed her down, yet 
she almost flew like a raven across the clearing in frantic 
desperation.
	A shadow rippled in her peripheral vision.
	She threw herself left, leaping over a tangle of roots. Her 
foot struck them, and she tripped. Her body tumbled over the tangle, 
falling in a heap at the base of the tree.
	The raspy breaths were approaching.
	Her eyes caught sight of an opening in the ground, a place 
where bowed roots had hollowed out a small cavern. Her body 
scrambled into the opening, fighting past roots and grasses. Once 
her waist made it through, she slipped in with ease. Huddled there, 
trembling from head to toe, she waited for the beast to come. And 
prayed that it would leave her alone. The raspy breath stopped, 
replaced instead with slow footsteps. Something was walking on the 
tangle of roots overhead.
	She tried to push herself as far to the back as possible.
	The beast hopped down.
	Her eyes were unable to believe the sight of two human legs in 
pants and shoes making an imprint in the damp ground. They shifted 
before her; the beast knew where she was.
	She was crying again, the faces of her friends appearing in 
her mind. They were all smiling, and this would mark the last time 
she would ever see them.
	"Usagi...." she whispered as the bubbly smile of the odango-
haired blonde flashed before her. For as many times as they had 
argued with each other, she only wished she could have told to 
odango-haired blonde how close she held the girl to her heart.
	Something shuffled at the opening. And then two eyes hidden 
behind a pair of shades appeared, looking at her. They belonged to a 
human, a young man, who solemnly stared at her.
	"Komban wa," he remarked evenly.
	She froze, not out of fright but out of stunned shock. One 
heartbeat ago she had been ready to die at the hands of a savage 
invisible ghoul. And now this young man was staring back at her.
	He cocked his head sideways. "Are you going to say something?" 
he inquired. "Or are you just going to huddle in there?"
	He seemed friendly, warm and open. Nothing like the savage 
brutes who had just tried to rape her. At least they received what 
they truly deserved: no mercy. 
	Carefully she looked at the young man. He seemed to be one 
willing to help. There was something about his smile that she 
trusted. It was a beautiful smile.
	She extended a shaky hand, and he skillfully grabbed it. With 
his own free hand he touched the tangles web of roots. They moved 
aside, enlargening the opening enough for her to crawl through with 
ease.
	"Sorry to scare you like that," he said, helping her out. "but 
trust me, it is very satisfying to let those damned goblins feel 
absolute terror before you kill them. I didn't mean to frighten you, 
though. Gomen."
	She found herself fixated on him. At first he seemed to good 
to believe: a lone knight valiantly coming to her rescue. But was he 
responsible for the carnage back in the clearing? She realized that 
there was no one else. It had to be him.
	"You...you were the one who saved me," she said quietly. 
	He nodded, scooping his hand around her back and sweeping her 
up in his arms to carry her out. She felt too weak and emotional to 
do anything else but let him.
	"What about that thing?" she asked, violet eyes darting around 
the forest.
	With a skilled leap the young man sprang from the ground, 
bounding over the roots and onto smoother grasses. "That was a 
ruse," he admitted. "As I said before, it is satisfying to let them 
feel true terror. That beast you think you saw was just a construct 
of my imagination."
	She glanced down at the forest floor. "Oh."
	He let her feet touch solid ground again, but she was staring 
down at herself: bruised, dirty and with a few trickles blood. Her 
kimono was torn and muddied. Her entire soul felt dirty and 
corroded.
	"Shimatta," her rescuer said as he too stared at her body, 
grimacing. "If I had only been here a few minutes earlier. I wasn't 
expecting someone to drop into a shadow kingdom like this. You're 
just lucky I was nearby at the time."
	"Near...by?" she asked, still trying to sort through the 
muddled array of thoughts going through her mind.
	He pointed to the veil of green leaves far above their heads, 
and the branches parted to form an opening. Through it she could see 
a set of towering snow-capped mountains in the distance.
	"The flight over took a lot out of me," the young man 
admitted. "But now I'm glad I nearly exhausted myself." He made a 
slow, elegant gesture with his arm.
	She sucked in her breath as suddenly her kimono healed itself. 
Her body too was cleansed, everything about her sparkling like the 
stars in the night sky. It was a rush to her system, a loving tingle 
of every nerve as she felt a magik work its way around her. With a 
slow turn she faced the young man.
	"Who are you?" she asked.
	"Allow me to introduce myself," the stranger said with a 
slight bow. "Kageno Karasu. Technically seventeen, and at one time a 
Sagittarius."
	He was dressed in strange garments, mainly because they were 
so familiar to her: black pants and shoes, a loose white dress shirt 
beneath a long dark tie and a billowing black jacket that reached 
halfway down to his knees. If she didn't know any better she would 
have guessed him to be enrolled at one of Tokyo's elite high 
schools. 
	His hair for the most part was long and flowing down around 
his shoulders, a brilliant shining blonde. And wrapped around his 
collar and shoulders was a large, flowing silver cloak that billowed 
out around his feet, rippling like the waves of the ocean. It seemed 
regal, but not as much when contrasted with his formal attire.
	The stranger hardly seemed the type to exist in such a place. 
And yet she couldn't shake the feeling that in truth he really 
didn't exist in such a place as the Dreamworld.
	Her eyes darted over to the shredded corpses littering the 
clearing of the forest. Those were the skins of evil that had tried 
to defile her in her moment of physical weakness. For that she would 
never forgive them or feel sorry for them in death.
	"What were they?" she asked solemnly. "Shadowdemons?"
	"You're already familiar with the Dreamworld, I see," Karasu 
remarked. He turned to the corpses. "They are not the demons but 
minions of those creatures. I call those particular things 
hobgoblins. 
	"If a Shadowdemon manages to conquer a guardian's domain, the 
dreamers within that domain become imprisoned. Many times the 
guardian will sacrifice themselves to send the dreamers through the 
torii and into the kingdoms of surrounding guardians. Sometimes all 
the dreamers make it out before the evil sets in. Sometimes they 
don't."
	She shuddered at the thought. "And they become like that?"
	"Regretfully, yes. They're alive, but living in a nightmare. 
Not exactly the nicest of creatures, I admit. And on more than one 
occasion during my wanderings they have been a real pain in the ass 
to deal with."
	He removed his shades, revealing crystal blue eyes that 
sparkled like the clearest of fountain springs. She sucked in her 
breath, and was oblivious to herself blushing. The Wanderer was even 
more handsome without his shades.
	He glanced around the forest. "We had better get going, 
Ojosan. More of them are bound to be lurking about here." He held 
out a hand to her. "Come with me. I'll lead you to a safer place."


	Midnight beams of moonlight poured in from the open fusama, 
casting silver light upon her sleeping form. She looked peaceful 
despite her soul being caught between worlds. All her friends were 
still awake, though exhausted and needing sleep.
	They were waiting for something, a word to give them hope 
that she was alive, that she had indeed survived. She was always a 
survivor, but could she survive a world beyond her own 
imagination?
	"The Wanderer has found her," Sora said abruptly, sighing in 
relief and opening his eyes from the meditation. 
	The raven knight was still rigid and oblivious, keeping 
contact with the realm of the waking dreamers. At least one of 
them had to remain there unless they wanted to risk losing her 
again. And still holding some essence of demon within, both knew 
Kishi was the one who should remain linked to both realms.
	The girls in the room stirred, awakened by the raven angel's 
words.
	"She's alive," the blue-haired genius said with a weary 
smile, embracing the tall brunette who was now awakening in the 
arms of the raven angel.
	"Where is she?" the shrine protege asked, tired but still 
very much awake as he sat crouched over her comatose form. "Where 
is Rei now?"
	"She is with the legendary wanderer of both worlds," the 
raven angel answered softly. "Know that with him she is safe."
	"What do you know about him, Sora-chan?" the long-haired 
blonde asked, rising up next to the seated form of the raven 
knight.
	"He is quite an enigma to even us," Sora admitted. "He's a 
ghost, drifting in between realms as he pleases, lost amidst the 
boundaries that divide them. But his heart and soul are bright and 
pure. He will protect her as long as she is trapped inside the 
Dreamworld."
	"Another knight?" the blue-haired genius asked.
	The raven angel nodded. "A different breed, yes but a 
warrior for the Dreamworld none the less."
	"He is the only one to be a raven by name and not by wings," 
Kishi whispered, still gazing into the other realm with closed 
eyes. "Even the Shadowdemons know of his myth. His name is 
Karasu...."


	The Wanderer was laying on his back atop a large, flat rock. 
His eyes were staring up at the stars. "How is the water, Ojosan?" 
he asked, not taking his eyes from the night skies above.
	She smiled as she continued to bathe herself in the bubbling 
hotsprings. This was exactly what she needed after going through 
such a hideous ordeal.
	"It's wonderful," she answered.
	"We can take our time here," he added. "You were lucky in 
that you had only strayed into the outer fringes of a shadow 
kingdom. Any deeper and we would still be walking."
	She let the steaming water warm her body, her nerves being 
soothed and pleasured at the same time. "Is it safe here?"
	"After the stunt I pulled," the Wanderer said with a dark 
grin. "no hobgoblin will be coming around here for a long time. At 
least until they figure out the beast was just an illusion."
	She smiled at the thought; a dark pleasure yes, but one she 
was reveling in. After what she had been through, what she had 
nearly suffered. She cupped a handful of water, raising it to her 
shoulders.
	"How long have you been here?" she asked, letting the hot 
water run down her breasts. The skin all around her body was 
tingling from the sensations, letting her forget everything else.
	He shrugged. "Around twelve hundred years, give or take a 
century. It's been a while since I last counted."
	She paused in the water, eyes wide. "But to be that old, you 
would...you would have had to been from the Silver Millennium!"
	"Ah!" he remarked, rolling onto his stomach. "I thought I 
recognized you from somewhere, not that I probably haven't caught 
a glimpse of your dreams before."
	She let out a startled shout, ducking down into the water 
with her hands over her breasts as he looked into the hotsprings. 
"What are you doing?" she exclaimed angrily.
	The Wanderer rolled his eyes, avoiding her glares but not 
looking away. He seemed to take it all in stride--that or he 
really didn't care whether or not she was naked. That felt a 
little more insulting to her than if he had tried to get a look at 
her body.
	"So," he remarked. "you were from the ancient moon kingdom 
as well. Might I inquire about your previous life, then?"
	Resignedly she realized that he was simply staring at her 
for the sake of the conversation--not that it wouldn't have 
flattered her if such a handsome young man found her sexually 
attractive.
	Even still she kept most of herself beneath the surface of 
the steaming hotsprings. "I was a princess," she said, carefully 
wading over to the edge.
	He cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, don't tell me!" He looked her 
up and down. "The princess of Jupiter!"
	She laughed and shook her head. "Not a chance. I was--I 
still am the princess of Mars."
	He sighed, replacing his shades over his crystal eyes. 
"Well, can't be right all the time. Besides, it's been over a 
thousand years since I lived in that world."
	"What were you in the Silver Millennium?" she asked. The 
fact that he was of such an ancient life brought with it questions 
of the past, memories that had yet to surface. And she hoped he 
could give her some answers.
	He leaned back on the rock, resting his hands behind his 
head. "I was a warrior-mage. One of the best around." He tossed 
her a crystal orb, and suddenly she felt a warm towel drop around 
her shoulders.
	She smiled, wrapping the towel around her body as she 
emerged from the hotsprings. Much of the towel fell into the water 
and was damp, though she found it to be suddenly dry as she 
stepped out onto the grasses next to the rock.
	Another slight of hand.
	"What sort of warrior-mage?" she inquired warily. His 
bizarre abilities had to be the result of his training, but it was 
a style she couldn't place even in her past life.
	The Wanderer sat up on the rock, stretching out his neck 
from side to side. "I'm a master of illusion. That's how I was 
able to take out the hobgoblins back there. In fact, I was so good 
that I ended up getting stuck between realms."
	Another crystal rolled through the grass, gently tapping her 
foot. With a flash of light the crystal became a folded set of 
robes for her to wear in place of her dirty and tattered kimono.
	"Arigato," she said quietly.
	"My pleasure," he replied.
	She reached back and discovered that her long dark hair was 
now tied back in a single tail, held together by a long blue 
ribbon. "I thought we could walk between both realms at once," she 
said, lifting the robes for appraisal. 
	High black boots; white, collarless blouse; violet, 
sleeveless vest left unbuttoned and loose, a crimson dragon 
rampaging across the front; pantaloons with a dark violet tint to 
match her vest; a long cloak of silver to match his. They were 
elegant and very flattering to her body, yet practical for someone 
with travels far ahead. 
	The Wanderer shook his head. "Being a walking dreamer is 
something different than a walking ghost, Ojosan."
	"You don't have to call me 'Miss' all the time," she said, 
chiding him. "I do have a name, you know."
	"So do I," he responded. "Though I for one have already 
given it to you. I've yet to have the favour returned."
	He smiled as she turned a shade of embarrassed pink; her 
error this time. "Oh...My name's Rei."
	"A beautiful name," he remarked, nodding with genuine 
approval. "Goes very well with your beautiful face." 
	She blushed.
	Karasu turned around, allowing her the privacy of changing 
into the new garments. She was thankful for his consideration.
	"So what happened?" she asked, slipping on her blouse.
	"It was ten years after the birth of Princess Serenity of 
the Moon, if my memory is right," he explained. "Come to think 
about it, that was ten years after most of the princesses were 
born. I had already discovered the realm of the waking dreamers, 
and thought I could force myself into their world. I wanted to 
learn the magik of the raven angels."
	He turned his head, looking at her from behind his shades. 
"You made the same mistake, Rei-chan. Our magik may be able to 
have us walk in both realms, but it's not the same magik of the 
Dreamworld. We can enter when we dream, but that's the only way 
through.
	"I used up a lot of energy in smashing through the barriers 
and wound up trapped. I never found my way home that night. Still 
haven't for that matter. Not that I'm entirely sorry; this is a 
nice place to live."
	She felt cold suddenly as she listened to him speak, even 
though his garments were wrapping her in warmth. If he, a master 
of illusions, couldn't find a way out, then what were her chances? 
What were her chances...?
	"How long until I might get out?" she asked quietly, 
lowering her head. She didn't want to face him, for as strong as 
she was the reality of his answer might still crush her spirit.
	Karasu shook his head, walking past her. "I don't know; time 
works differently here. I still have to figure it out myself. The 
fact is that if you make it back to Earth, it could be two hours 
or two hundred years later."
	The Wanderer paused in his walking and glanced back; she had 
stopped moving altogether, dropping to her knees and trying to 
hold herself as her entire body trembled.
	"Masaka," she whispered hoarsely.
	Two hundred years?
	Karasu slowly removed the shades from his face; within his 
eyes there seemed to be concern despite his indifferent attitude. 
Perhaps because he had been through this centuries ago and had 
grown accustomed to his fate. But for whatever reason, he still 
remembered the pain of discovery in the lesson learned.
	She found herself suddenly scooped up in his arms as he 
carried her over to a tree. Laying her down on the grasses at the 
base of the trunk, he stretched himself out next to her. No words 
were spoken, though his eyes said enough.
	He understood.
	And he cared.
	She found herself blushing again as she looked into his 
crystal blue eyes, and then turned away in the hopes that her face 
would return to its normal colour. 
	"Come on," she muttered to herself. "Think of something to 
say. Start up a conversation."
	She looked back to the Wanderer, ready to say something, to 
say anything. She wanted to thank him again for his kindness and 
protection. She wanted to tell him--
	He was out cold, sleeping soundly. At first her expression was 
an indignant one, but it soon softened as she watched him sleep. He looked 
so peaceful.
	It seemed strange to gaze upon a sleeping soul within a 
world of dreams. Yet Karasu was curled up in his cloak, the only 
sounds from him being quiet breathing.
	She crawled over to the Wanderer and curled up next to him. 
She felt safer beside the enigmatic young man, and for some reason 
warmer. Resting her head against his chest, the rhythmic beating 
of his heart lulled her to gentle sleep.
	"Karasu...." she whispered.


	A darkened sky was beginning to be painted anew in yellow 
and orange. The moon was gone, the sun soon to come. Day was on 
the verge of breaking through the night's starlit fortress as 
those within the Shinto temple kept their vigil.
	"She rests," the raven knight said, sapphire eyes still 
closed. "The Wanderer is still with her." His eyes were shut but 
still saw those around him: the raven angel, the dark-haired 
prince, the shrine's apprentice. 
	The young ladies had long since lost to a war with fatigue, 
and were sleeping in different corners in the room. The blue-
haired genius and the odango-haired blonde had collapsed next to 
her comatose form on the bed. The long-haired blonde had been laid 
down on another set of blankets brought in by the young man of the 
Shinto shrine. And the tall brunette was in the caring arms of the 
raven angel.
	"Can we do anything, Sora?" the dark-haired prince asked. 
"Is it possible for us to sleep and search for her inside the 
Dreamworld."
	Sora nodded. "You can, but keep this in mind: the Dreamworld 
is vastly larger than you think. Rei-chan could be anywhere, and 
there is also the chance she is in Shadow kingdom. Despite the 
presence of the Wanderer, that places her in grave danger."
	"We can handle the Shadowdemons," the tall brunette said, 
surprising the males. They had thought all others to be sleeping. 
And the tall brunette had, but it was a light and restless 
slumber. Their words had stirred an awakening.
	"The priestess barely survived hobgoblins," the raven knight 
spoke up, slowly opening his eyes. "and they are but the weakest 
of the dark creatures. Minako lost her life to a demon itself. You 
venture into such kingdoms, and the Shadowdemons will come for 
you. I can guarantee that."
	He turned to the sleeping long-haired blonde. "I don't want 
to risk losing Minako-chan in such a place. I almost lost her 
once. The Shadowdemons now know her face...as well as mine."
	Kishi's voice seemed choked, forcing back emotions of bitter 
rage. All those deadly memories of a life without a soul. Of a 
battle against Sora that almost ended in death for them both. 
	Sora was grave as well. "Nor do I want to lose you, Mako-
chan. You mean too much to me."
	"Sora-chan," the tall brunette whispered, arms wrapping 
around his neck from behind. Head pressed against his chest, the 
tall brunette's eyes looked up to the raven angel. "We won't lose. 
Not Rei-chan. Not to anything out there."
	"Then let me go!" the young priest stated loudly, rousing 
the others. "Dammit, let me search the Dreamworld for Rei!"
	"You don't know what you're saying," Sora said solemnly. 
"There are over a thousand kingdoms, and not all of them are ruled 
by guardian angels."
	"To hell with the risks!" the shrine protege snapped, eyes 
blazing beneath scruffy bangs of brown hair. "If it will get her 
out, then I'll do anything."
	"The Wanderer has no doubt learned of her fate," the raven 
knight said. "He will most likely bring her into my former domain 
or else Sora's. Her aura will be easier to find in those places 
since our magik is still closely tied to them."
	"Please, Kishi!" the young man said, down on his knees. He 
seemed adament about going, determined to find their lost friend. 
"I'll take the risks, and those risks can be damned for all I 
care. But I refuse to sit here while Rei-chan's in danger!"
	He glanced away. "I love her," he said quietly, his passion 
exhausted from his voice.
	"You all are exhausted from this ordeal," Kishi stated. "It 
is far from ending, but at least try to get some sleep. Use your 
access into the Dreamworld as a means of searching for her. Sora 
and I will help. But let us define the boundaries--for your safety 
and for Rei's."
	The young man nodded, drained but relieved. "Hai."
	And so they slept once more. Not one soul within that 
building of the Shinto shrine was awake five minutes later. Their 
hearts and minds were already walking the beauty of the 
Dreamworld, paired up for protection.
	But no matter where they were, only one cry escaped their 
lips: "Rei-chan!" And the voice of the young shrine protege 
carried further than anyone else's.


	"Rei-chan!"
	Her eyes fluttered open; was someone calling her? The voice 
seemed to fade, perhaps simply a ghost caught in the winds. She 
stirred, coming out of a dreamless but comforting and warm sleep. 
As she opened her eyes, she saw Karasu looking down at her face. 
He was so close that she could feel his warm breath. It smelled of 
the air after a rainfall.
	"Komban wa," he remarked. "Sleep well?"
	"Komban wa, Karasu," she said, smiling. "Hai."
	The crystal eyes seemed to sparkle. "Great. Now would you 
mind removing your hand?" His nonchalance about the remark 
startled her.
	But then she was startled even more when she saw that her 
hand was in fact wrapped around his waist. Moreso she had 
practically crawled on top of him in her sleep, sprawled out over 
his body as if she were his lover. 
	With a yelp she scrambled off, blushing immensely from head 
to toe. Karasu stretched himself out and loosened his tie. 
	"Thank you," he said courtly. "Another ten minutes of being 
perfectly still like that, and I think everything from my neck 
down would have been numb permanently."
	"G-gomen," she stammered. It was all she could say.
	The Wanderer simply straightened and with a large yawn 
stretched himself out. As he stood his clothes seemed to ripple as 
if passing through a sparkling wall. Another illusion, she 
realized, one that seemed to clean and refresh his attire. As she 
stood the same illusion took place with her robes.
	"Breakfast?" he inquired, walking to the rock overlooking 
the hotsprings. It was still night, and a crescent moon shone 
brightly overhead. "You can have your heart's desire, Rei-san."
	Unsure of what to expect, she warily gave an answer. 
Surprise still managed to take her when Karasu dropped a crystal 
orb onto the rock and with its shattering a literal banquet 
appeared.
	"I always enjoy a little of everything when I eat," he said. 
"Come on, Rei-san. An illusion may have created this meal but I 
can assure you that the food is very real."
	The aromas were already reaching her, and with a rumble of 
her stomach she realized how hungry she really was. Seconds later 
found her wolfing down a bowlful of rice with a pair of ohashi 
that had her named engraved in jade down the sides.
	The Wanderer just stared at her as he watched her polish off 
in minutes what took him much longer to eat. "You really were 
hungry, Rei-san."
	Soon after she leaned back, fully satisfied. "Arigato," she 
said with a sigh.
	He nodded. "I was thinking about how to get you back," he 
said, adjusting his shades. "We'll need to cross through numerous 
kingdoms in the process, but getting you back to your world is a 
possibility."
	At least there was hope in that, but even still the daunting 
question of time plagued her. She could be gone here for only a 
few hours and return to a Tokyo two hundred years from when she 
went in. She tried not to dwell on that; she had to keep her faith 
in her friends.
	Karasu was making a map in his mind, somewhat oblivious to 
her now. "Kaika's domain will cut travel down by a day...but then 
we would be borderline to a shadow kingdom...perhaps Chie's realm 
might be wiser..."
	She asked, "Why are there so many different kingdoms here?" 
	With a snap of his fingers, the Wanderer's meal faded out of 
existence. "Each domain gives to itself a unique brand of magik, 
thus giving each guardian a unique power. And since in your world 
there are dreamers on the other side of the globe while you are 
basking in the noonday sun, the divisions in the Dreamworld are 
made to accommodate that."
	He stood, brushing off his pants. He seemed ready to start 
about on another journey, and she saw no choice but to follow in 
suit. Resignedly she had to admit that Karasu knew more about the 
Dreamworld than she.
	"What about the Shadowdemons? Do you have larger defenses on 
the borderlands?"
	Karasu shook his head. "The Shadowdemons don't have to worry 
about keeping a central empire or their borders. Their borders 
keep themselves. Once taken over nothing short of a miracle can 
recover the lost kingdoms from a hostile evil that forever plagues 
a once rich and beautiful realm. As a result, the Empress' 
kingdoms are scattered across the Dreamworld at random, depending 
on a Shadowdemon's success at conquest."
	His silence became her silence as well. As a senshi she had 
faced the darkness of evil before; that such evil could be found 
even in this beautiful world seemed cruel. 
	"Maybe Sora could help us," she suggested.
	"He belongs more to your world now," the Wanderer countered. 
"Besides, you are technically a ghost and almost impossible to 
track by anyone either here or on Earth. It's all a part of being 
a lost soul."
	She never truly heard his last words, though his first words 
were what became trapped inside her mind. Karasu was proving to be 
fully of strange surprises. "You knew Sora?" she asked.
	"I've heard tales of him," the Wanderer answered. "The first 
raven angel in a long time to find a way into your world. The 
magik from his love still ripples through a few dreams. The raven 
angels will find trouble in attempting to locate your spirit, Rei-
san. Our best bet is to head west, towards Sora's old kingdom."
	"Why there?" she asked.
	"Sora still holds access to the torii," he answered. "And 
his sensory powers are amplified within the borders. If we can get 
you there, we double your chances of a rescue."
	He stood up from the rock, brushed off his jacket and pants, 
and began to set a pace, departing from the hotsprings. She kept 
in step beside him, persistant in her questions. The better she 
knew the Dreamworld, the better off she was.
	"How long will it take us to reach Sora's realm then?"
	The Wanderer shrugged. "Depends on what we find along the 
way. If we are constant in our travels, giving way to sleeping and 
to rest stops, then maybe a few weeks. And that's if we somehow 
manage to miss any trouble that might come our way."
	"Weeks?" she exclaimed.
	"Calm down," he said, tilted back his neck to avoid the 
brunt of her attack. Under his breath he muttered, "The problem 
with Earth girls is the noise." Aloud he said, "Daijobu, Rei-san. 
Remember time works differently here. You might already be years 
into a coma back on Earth."
	"How long, then?" she asked dejectedly.
	"My best estimate is fourteen nights," Karasu replied.
	This confused her a little. "Doesn't the sun ever come out?"
	He shook his head. "This is the Dreamworld, existing only 
from dusk to dawn. The night here is eternal."
	This only managed to confuse her even more. "But doesn't the 
moon ever set?"
	"Iie. It just revolves around the sky on a vertical axis. 
The only change the moon makes is in its quarters. Sometimes a 
crescent moon, sometimes a half and other times whole. But that's 
just the way this world works. Don't blame me; I'm just passing 
through here."
	She couldn't help but smirk at that. "You've been passing 
through here for over a millennium, Karasu."
	"True," he admitted with a laugh. "Very true. We have a long 
journey ahead of us, Rei-san. I recommend that we start now if 
you're done with the interrogation."
	And so their journey began, and for the first night in over 
two hundred years the Wanderer found himself in more than just the 
company of his own shadow.
	He smiled to himself as he quietly whispered her name. "Rei-
chan...."


	The rays of the setting October sun were igniting the sky in 
a brilliant display of red, orange and yellow. From her place at 
the Shinto building's verandah, the odango-haired blonde watched 
the distant sunset.
	"It's been two days since she fell into the coma," the 
odango-haired blonde asked the dark-haired prince. "Do you think 
Rei-chan will make it?"
	The dark-haired prince seemed to hold the odango-haired 
blonde a little tighter in their embrace with those words. "I 
don't know," he admitted quietly. "We just have to keep hoping, 
Usa-ko." 
	They both turned as another soul stepped out onto the deck. 
"The others are getting ready to enter the Dreamworld again," the 
raven angel said. "If you wish to join them in searching, you too 
should get ready to sleep."
	"What are you going to do, Sora-chan?" the odango-haired 
blonde asked.
	The raven angel sighed with regret. "All Kishi and I can do 
is watch over her travels until she comes to one of our former 
kingdoms. To know that she is in good health is better than 
knowing nothing at all."
	She nodded, the hope still within her. "We'll find Rei-chan 
and bring her out."
	Sora smiled at the odango-haired blonde's compassionate 
tenacity for her friends. No wonder they all were willing to die 
in protecting her.
	"We'll find Rei-chan," the odango-haired blonde said again, 
slipped through the fusama with the dark-haired prince. 
	Sora turned his head as he felt a presence in the shadows 
appear next to him.
	"But what of the Wanderer?" the raven knight asked quietly.
	Sora shook his head. "I don't know, Kishi. Legend holds that 
he never found a way out and never will. Why should this time be 
any different?"
	"Legend also holds that he has helped at least a dozen 
others who became trapped like him," Kishi countered. "Maybe 
there's a chance to bring him over. Think of what we could learn 
about our world from him. Of what he has seen."
	Crimson eyes started out into the night. "Karasu helped 
others over at the cost of his own twisted immortality. I don't 
think he'll make it out with Rei. But the question is: if given 
the chance to see what he has seen, would Rei want to return?"
	The raven knight moved past Sora. "That decision is not ours 
to make, Sora. Don't dwell on it; we have other things to focus 
on."


	Cherry blossoms, petals pink and delicate, rained down all 
around them. Rows of thin, brown trees were everywhere, kept in 
perfect rank.
	They were walking through an orchard that stretched out to 
the horizon any way she turned. They had been in this orchard for 
two nights straight. Already four days had passed in a blur of 
magik and wonder.
	She found herself questioning how many memories she could 
carry with her when she returned to her world. But would she? She 
looked over at the Wanderer by her side.
	"This is Kaika's domain," he said, reaching out and 
snatching a few petals from the air. The silver cloak around his 
shoulders was gone; he was now dressed in his suit. "Very elusive 
and very protective. Whatever you do, don't carve your initials 
into a tree."
	She laughed. They had spent so much time together now, both 
in sleeping and in walking. It was his crystal eyes that she found 
herself waking to in the early hours of the eternal night. And it 
was his rhythmic heartbeat that lulled her to sleep at the end of 
a night's travels.
	Many nights she told him of the end of the Silver Millennium 
and their rebirths in Tokyo city on Earth. He listened somberly, 
having witnessed a few instances of these battles but not certain 
in every detail. He seemed grateful for the knowledge. For the 
chance to bring closure to it all.
	Karasu, though, was proving to remain very much an enigma; 
new revelations came night by night. Some were surprising, such as 
his remark last night that she was indeed an excellent singer as 
she hummed while she was bathing.
	"You knew I was a singer?' she had exclaimed.
	The Wanderer had simply nodded. "With my illusions I can 
cross over to Earth, you know. I'm not just confined to here--
though I can only stay a short while on Earth. The Fire River 
Temple is a wonderful place this time of year; maybe I'll visit 
when this is over. But yes, on a few trips I have heard you 
singing. Keep up the practice, Rei-chan."
	That had taken her aback for most of that night. Although it 
was disheartening to learn that she had not enough power to cross 
over as a ghost to her world as Karasu could, it did comfort her 
to know that the Wanderer had watched over her from time to time. 
Maybe that was why he was being so friendly to her.
	Maybe that was she was falling in love with--
	She turned her head as a chorus of giggles echoed through 
the trees and the rainfall of petals. A brief image of two little 
children playing together appeared and faded ten steps from them.
	The Wanderer motioned down the rows of trees in the orchard. 
"Some of the beautiful dreams existing in Kaika's domain. I must 
admit that this is one of my favourite 'haunts' as it were; if I 
ever need some reason for existing, I come here to stand amidst 
the dreams."
	For a moment he seemed caught by a memory from long ago, 
perhaps from another life in the Silver Millennium. To be 
separated from family and friends, to wander without a home for 
eternity, never changing from the form you possessed when you 
entered; how could he have survived, she wondered.
	"Don't you ever get lonely?" she asked him.
	The Wanderer paused, staring first up to the stars and then 
into her violet eyes. "From time to time, yes. Twelve hundred 
years is a long time to be in solitude." 
	It was a solemn answer, truthful and laced with what might 
have been regret. She couldn't be sure; if it was one thing she 
was already learning, it was that he hid his true emotions well. 
"How did you press on?" she asked.
	"I nurtured the hope that there was hope," he answered. 
"That there was a reason to press on. And in you and your friends 
I have seen it come to life." He removed his shades. "I believe in 
love, Rei-chan. That is what's kept me going this far, and that is 
what will finally take me to whatever I might call home."
	There was a time where silence reigned.
	Such a calm passion had never been in his voice before, yet 
it was this determination that kept him a survivor. "Back during 
the Silver Millennium," she asked. "did you have someone you 
loved? A girlfriend?"
	"To be honest, no," the Wanderer admitted. "And I think that 
not having any reason to return to my former world sealed my fate 
here. I've met a few other lost souls like ourselves every now and 
again, but usually nothing becomes of it...except for one." 
	That piqued her curiousity. "Who?"
	He looked up to the moonlight. "It was a long time ago," he 
said quietly. "Yui-chan...."
	Sadness seemed to wash over his face, perhaps of sorrow or 
regret for a love never found and never to be found unless he 
escaped. He was surprised at first when she wrapped her arm around 
his, leaning against his shoulder as the walked. But then he 
nodded, removing his shades and letting her see his crystal blue 
eyes.
	"Rei-chan," he said softly, and smiled.

	
	He was alone, though he could somehow feel the presence of 
the raven knight closeby. The folds of his ceremonial kimono 
rippled with the cool evening winds. "Rei-chan!" the young priest 
called out. "Please answer me!"
	He was standing in the midst of rows of trees as a continual 
rainfall of cherry blossom petals decorated his hair. Yet it was 
only him and the orchard and a few brief glimpses of beautiful 
dreams.
	"Dammit," he muttered, clenching his fists. "I could have 
sworn she was here."
	With a sixth sense he had been tracking her, trying to find 
her within a world of a thousand different kingdoms and realms to 
call its own. He was learning how to manifest himself in a desired 
domain; the only problem was that he did not have enough power to 
teleport from one kingdom to the next within a single dream. No 
one did but the two guardians. 
	It was early in the midnight hours, and now he was confined 
to this orchard realm unless he walked out and into the next one. 
The young man could only pray that perhaps this night one of the 
other girls might chance upon her.
	Four nights had passed since she was lost within the 
Dreamworld. Her grandfather had been thankfully delayed in 
returning. But in three days time there could be no hiding her 
condition.
	Why had this come upon her? Why did she have to be so 
stubborn sometimes? This entire ordeal had come without warning 
and now his heart was being torn at facing a life without her 
nearby. He had never even had a chance to tell her how much he 
cared for her, how much he loved her. 
	The young man reached out and caught a number of petals in 
his hand, closing his palm around them. "Rei-chan," he said 
quietly. "I swear I will find you. Even if I have to go into hell 
itself I will find you and bring you back to us."
	The shrine protege slowly turned and looked down one row of 
thin cherry blossom trees. The horizon was lost in their ranks. 
And with one more step, he began walking towards the end of this 
kingdom.


	In the distance the entire horizon was cast in an eerie red 
glow; rocks, trees and the mountain all seemed to be enveloped in 
a strange mist of crimson earth.
	The peak of the mountain opened up like a mouth, thick 
streams of dark and crimson smoke drifting out from the crater. 
The jagged face of the mountain seemed to add to the looming sense 
of forbidding danger.
	"It's beautiful," she whispered.
	"The lofty peak of the only volcano to grace the 
Dreamworld," Karasu stated. "The danger is only in appearance. 
That is the one place even Shadowdemons have shied away from 
attacking. Strange, in my opinion; I would think them finding such 
a forbidding place the perfect home."
	She looked to the Wanderer. "Does anyone dream there?" 
	He nodded. "As impossible as it seems, the volcano holds an 
abundance of dreamers. It is merely another strange face in a 
strange world."
	He pointed to the dark horizon. "In a few hours we'll be at 
the outer rim of Taki's forest. My best estimate is that we'll 
reach Sora's domain within the next four nights."
	They chose a place to settle down for the night close to the 
outer rim of the forest. She had grown accustomed to slightly 
rugged conditions for sleeping, insisting that Karasu didn't have 
to create a bedside illusion for her.
	The Wanderer was staring into the forest as they ate their 
final meal before retiring. "If we weren't so pressed for time," 
he said to her. "then I would love to take you into the heart of 
Taki's forest and show you the waterfall. It must be one of the 
most spectacular sights I have ever seen; the cataract itself 
empties into a twenty-storey gorge."
	Finishing off his dinner, he leaned back against a tree and 
relaxed his body. "Did you have a crush on someone back in the 
Silver Millennium?" 
	She paused; memories of such a distant life were still 
unclear to her and her friends. Perhaps she had in another life of 
serenity. But to be honest she did not know.
	"Pity," the Wanderer remarked when she told him just that. 
"I would think that you had to be dating someone in that century. 
You're just too cute to be ignored."
	She blushed at this; Karasu knew exactly how to charm her. 
But he was more than simply charming. He was unique: an immortal 
wanderer so long as he remained trapped in the Dreamworld, and 
still managing to keep a sense of humour about the entire 
situation. He cared for her and in getting her home. Karasu had 
done so much for her in her weakest moments. When she could no 
longer be strong, he had been there to help her back up.
	"Rei-chan!"
	She snapped her head around, uncertain if she had actually 
heard someone call her name. And yet the voice sounded familiar. 
She stood up, staring out at the volcanic peak in the far 
distance.
	The voice brought with it distant memories and images of a 
young man now helping her at the Shinto shrine. A good man with a 
kind heart--which the shrine protege usually wore on his sleeve. 
Someone who...who loved her. Did he love her?
	"Yuichiro," she whispered.
	"Rei-chan?" Karasu asked, walking to stand behind her. His 
own eyes were fixed on the dark silhouette of the distant volcano. 
If he had heard that voice, he was saying nothing. "Rei-chan, 
daijobu?"
	She blinked, the voice not returning to her again. Maybe she 
had dreamt of his face and voice. But was it all a dream? Her 
other life seemed so far away now, after all she had seen and 
walked through.
	His gentle touch brought her around until they stood cheek 
to cheek. He was taller than her, and she had to tilt her head to 
look up into his crystal blue eyes. The Wanderer's smile caused 
her to do the same.
	He leaned forward and gave a gentle kiss to her forehead. 
"Good night, Rei-chan. Sleep well, and dream of the man you love."
	With his silver cloak flapping behind him, Karasu settled 
own to rest his weary body. Moments later he was in a quiet, 
profound sleep. She found herself smiling, her body tingling with 
strange warmth, as she looked at him.
	So peaceful did the Wanderer look in his sleep, ever 
trusting and ever guiding. Helping guide her back home. She turned 
back to the distant volcano; what was home? A temple, perhaps.
	Was that her real home, or was it all simply a dream? Violet 
eyes glanced back at Karasu. She was falling on love with him, for 
all he had done and was doing for her. But what of those who were 
separated in her world, trying to call her back to them? 
	A city of friends: the odango-haired blonde and the dark-
haired prince...the tall brunette...the long-haired blonde...the 
blue-haired genius...the two guardian angels...the young man who 
was calling out to her.
	But who would she dream of tonight, then?
	Who would she dream of...?


	Atop the highest of the plateaus he remained, crouched low 
at the precipice and grimly staring out at the beauty of the realm 
surrounding him. On another night he would have found this 
breathtaking, but tonight the open domain of the plateaus gave him 
no comfort.
	"Rei-chan," he said quietly, sadly. "Where are you? Why 
can't I find you?"
	"Yuichiro-san?"	
	The young man turned and saw the blue-haired genius 
approach. The blue-haired genius had over her eyes a visor with 
flickering images he read to be backwards.
	"She's not here, Ami," he said. "Rei-chan's nowhere close to 
this place. And now we're stuck here for the night unless we find 
a way to grow wings."
	"Rei was here at one point in time," the blue-haired genius 
countered, the visor disappearing. "I've been able to locate 
traces of her aura as she and the Wanderer move. Tomorrow I'm 
certain I will be able to pinpoint the next kingdom she will be 
walking through. At the very least we know they're heading for 
Sora's domain."
	The young man stared out to the west. There in the distance 
an eerie volcanic peak, its land bathed in a crimson hue, stood 
tall and breathing thick dark smoke.
	"I should have never left her alone in the fire room," he 
said, shaking his head dejectedly. "I saw her go in and I saw that 
look in her eyes. I should have done something to stop this from 
happening."
	"Don't be so hard on yourself," the blue-haired genius 
answered. "Yuichiro, you're blaming yourself too much for this. 
Right now we need to focus on getting Rei-chan back."
	Far below hundreds of small lights twinkled across the dark 
lands.
	"Time is running out," the shrine protege said. "Her 
grandfather will be back in two days. I don't know if he could 
take the shock." 
	He slowly stood, eyes never leaving the horizon far below 
the plateaus. "Either we find her soon, or we won't ever find Rei 
at all."
	The blue-haired genius seemed to shiver. "Don't say things 
like that, Yuichiro-san. We'll find her."
	The wind pushed back his bangs, revealing his determined 
eyes. "If I can't find her in my world," he stated. "Then I'll 
become a ghost like her and find her in this one."
	And yet this prospect only seemed to frighten him. His body 
trembled with fury over his failure and hesitation to lose both 
worlds eternally like the Wanderer.
	"Ganbatte, Yuichiro-san," the blue-haired genius said, 
resting a hand on his shoulder. She looked out to the great 
beyond, clinging to her own hope in those words. "Ganbatte...." 
she whispered to herself.
	

	One night in the forest had already passed, and the Wanderer 
had stated that they would reach the coastal shores before this 
night was lost to their sleep. Karasu seemed in high spirits, 
leaping from forest floor to high branches to roots uplifted from 
the dirt and grasses.
	She, though, moved slower than usual, lost in the thoughts 
as only a lover torn in love could. The young man's face had 
haunted her dreams again, his scruffy brown hair and kind but 
clumsy nature causing her to smile. But then what of the Wanderer? 
She felt so close to Karasu now, almost joined at the soul.
	If the time came, which destiny would she choose? Return to 
Earth and Tokyo to be with the young man and her friends...or 
remain here with Karasu in wandering through the Dreamworld.
	It was this uncertaintly she felt that caused her to remain 
unaware of approaching danger. Not until Karasu's restraining hand 
grabbed her wrist to hold her back.
	"There's something else here," he said quietly, eyes darting 
around the forest. 
	She turned, trying to locate the source of the new 
presences. Her own psychic powers seemed to be magnified by this 
world, for she could see in her mind the creatures approaching 
them. They were but shadows with fierce glowing eyes, moving on 
paws of four. 
	"They are coming from the south," she said, pointing towards 
a section of the forest. "Over there."
	Karasu stepped forward, adamant about being the first to 
either defend or attack. His entire hand tensed up. A glowing 
light swallowed up his palm, sending out a magik that filled the 
entire area with sparkling blue light.
	Her eyes widened as something came out from the light. It 
was a sword, long and deadly. Over four and a half feet in length 
from tip to handle it stood, the grip adorned with a covering that 
wrapped around the hilt and tapered to a fine edge. In the centre 
was a large gemstone that shone like a storm. 	
	"Sugoi," she whispered. What an incredible weapon!
	"Arashi," he stated. "My illusions aren't the only magik I 
wield."
	But she was also a warrior, a soldier in her other life on 
Earth. And she still had the means of becoming that soldier. 
Despite the Wanderer's illusion, she located her transformation 
stick inside her robes.
	He glanced back with her shout, watching as she was engulfed 
in a bright light only to re-emerge in a sailor-style battle fuku. 
He slid his shades down his nose for a moment.
	"Impressive," he remarked.
	The Wanderer focused back on the forest as the creatures 
were now making sounds in their approach. Different breaths and 
different paces swarmed around them, and then the glowing eyes 
appeared from the shadows.
	She clenched her fists, ready to unleash her own magik of 
burning fire in a heartbeat. This time would not be like the 
hobgoblins. This time she would be ready.
	A pack of silver wolves converged on them.
	She held her breath, the aura of fire manifesting around her 
body.
	"Wait!" heuntered, holding out a restraining hand in front 
of her. He spun his sword around, jabbing the blade into the soft 
grass.
	The lead wolf, one with only a single glowing eye of bright 
yellow, stepped forward to meet with the Wanderer. Their eyes 
fixated on the other, each one having a solemn gaze. And to her 
surprise, the wolf pounced. Yet it was friendly if not playful, 
and Karasu laughed as his was pinned to the grass by the wolf's 
large body. They wrestled, rolling around the grasses until both 
were soaking wet from the dew. The wolf licked Karasu's face as he 
ran his fingers through his wet bangs.
	"Daijobu!" he called out to her. "They're Mystwolves. 
They're friendly--at least towards us."
	She lowered her defenses, glancing around the forest as more 
of these wolves appeared. A mother with a trio of small cubs 
emerged. The smallest pup gave a delighted "Yip!" and bounded over 
to her.
	Kneeling down she scooped up the young wolf in her arms, 
feeling the warmth of its fur nuzzle against her skin. She giggled 
as the pup's tongue tickled her cheek with wet kisses.
	"Kawaii!" she exclaimed. Curious how the aura of the 
Mystwolves seemed to be so threatening when they seemed so 
peaceful.
	As she turned to Karasu, she found the reason; he was 
kneeling next to a Mystwolf brought before him by its comrades. 
This wolf was in severe pain, limping with a hideous gash down its 
left leg.
	"Shimatta," he said quietly, removing his shades and 
appraising the wound. 
	The Mystwolf whimpered; its leg had been torn open to the 
bone, the mangled fur soaked in blood. He was surprised that the 
wolf had managed to limp this far and survive.
	He opened up his palm, a crystal orb appearing. He forced 
the crystal into the wolf's leg, the orb passing through as if the 
wolf was mere water. There was a quick yelp and an even faster 
recovery.
	"Will the illusions work?" she asked.
	"Healing illusions are specially crafted," he answered. 
"They will give you enough strength to recover, but the wound will 
still need to heal itself. When that happens the illusion simply 
fades away. It's only a temporary solution, and if shattered while 
the wound is still recovering the damage will be even worse."
	"Can you revive the dead?" 
	Sadly he shook his head. "No. I fear my illusions are not as 
powerful to combat death. And many a Mystwolf I could have saved 
had I but possessed such a magik."
	The Wanderer's crystal blue eyes looked to the alpha male of 
the pack. "How many others?" he asked.
	The wolf growled to him in its own language, one he seemed 
to understand. He turned to her, his expression somber. 
	"Bogeymen," he stated. He moved to another injured Mystwolf, 
and healed it with another illusion. "They attacked this pack by 
surprise about half a night's journey from here. Damned bastards 
they are, attacking mothers and cubs."
	She released the pup, the little Mystwolf running to its 
mother. "Are they worse than the hobgoblins?"
	He healed another wolf with an illusion. "Bogeymen are 
second in power and terror only to the Shadowdemons themselves. 
They travel in packs, are not confined to mere shadow kingdoms, 
and will only stop attacking you when the last one is killed."
	"Let me help fight them," she said, her voice trembling with 
fury. "We will have to cross by there anyways." Vengeance was 
seeping into her blood, a growing desire to exact cruel punishment 
on those creatures who had tried to rape her.
	He stood, having finished with the last of the Mystwolves. 
The pack returned to the shadows of the forest as he abruptly 
began walking. The sword was picked up in his grip and enveloped 
back into his palm with the same glowing light.
	"We're not far from the beach sands," he stated, 
deliberately avoiding her demand for revenge. "We can camp there 
for the night; hopefully the Bogeymen will have left the area by 
then."
	"Na ni?!" she exclaimed, chasing after him. "Let me help 
fight, Karasu! I want to get those bastards just as much as you 
do!"
	"This is not your fight," the Wanderer countered, glancing 
over his shoulder at her. "Nor is it mine. The Bogeymen and the 
Mystwolves have been nemeses since the dusk of the Dreamscape. 
Although I loathe the beasts myself, I don't go out looking for a 
battle."
	He might as well have slapped her in the face with that 
remark. And for all this time she thought him to be a valiant 
knight for the Dreamworld. So what did his attitude now mean?
	"Why not?" she exclaimed, fuming at him. She was barely even 
aware that they had come out of the forest, now reaching a small 
drop in the hills that led down to coastal sands and crashing 
waves. For the first time since she had met Karasu, she found 
herself despising him. How could someone who had been in all this 
wonder and magik for centuries be so indifferent?
	"Don't you feel anything for what evil is doing to such a 
beautiful paradise?" she shouted angrily.
	Karasu whirled, his silver cloak billowing out behind him. 
For the first time pure emotion shone in his face. Crystal blue 
eyes burned at her. "Yes, I feel for it!" he snapped. "That is why 
I fall upon any creature of darkness I find. That is why the 
Mystwolves come for healing if I am nearby. And that is why I 
rescued you."
	He turned away, staring out at the seas beyond the cliff's 
edge. "Over one thousand years have I been alone, Rei. But I know 
that the real battle in the Dreamworld can only be waged between 
the raven angels and the Shadowdemons. I do not belong in their 
realm. Against the full furies of either a raven angel or a 
Shadowdemon, my illusions will only prolong the inevitable for a 
few minutes. That is why I involve myself with those who don't 
hold such high power."
	He turned to her, replacing the shades over his eyes. "I am 
rather fond of life--namely my own. And rushing into the heart of 
the Empress' realm is thus not exactly high on my list of 
crusades. I still have to live with the mistake of becoming a lost 
soul, Rei; I don't want to live or die thanks to any other ones 
that I might make."
	She felt cut by a savage knife, stung by her own attack 
against him. Now she finally understood what it was like to be a 
wanderer in the Dreamworld. Karasu was still grimly staring out at 
the ocean waves, his chest heaving with every breath.
	Her expression softened, and when he saw the understanding 
in her eyes, he smiled. "You still fight, though," she said 
gently, wrapping her arms around his waist as she leaned against 
his back.
	He nodded. "I will fight when the war comes my way--and many 
times it does more than once a night--but in truth I am only a 
wanderer. My powers cannot destroy the Shadowdemons, but at least 
what I do here will keep someone's beautiful dreams safe for one 
more night."
	She stared out to this new Dreamworld kingdom with him.
The waves of a vast ocean stretching out beyond the horizon were 
crashing against the large rocks scattered across the sandy beach. 
At the far end of the shores, the fierce rolling hooves of a herd 
of Silvermanes threw up sand as they galloped away.
	He opened up his palm, the crystal within his grip bursting 
into a small fire. "I'll give us some lighting."
	She put her hand on his shoulder. "Please, let me. After 
all, it's my speciality."
	With a smile he nodded and closed his palm around the 
crystal, smothering the flames. "Hai."
	"Burning Mandala!" she shouted. A fury of ringed fireballs 
spread out across the beach, becoming pyres on sands and rocks. 
The stretching coast came to life in a brilliant dance of fiery 
hues.
	The beach was brighter now, the sands glistening white in 
the moonlight and glowing red in the firelight. They could see the 
deep blue ocean waves and frothing whitecaps striking the rocks 
and the sandy shores.
	Suddenly she was hoisted off her feet, held firmly in 
Karasu's arms. He leaped off the top of the slope, his silver 
cloak spreading out like a pair of wings as they floated down to 
the sands.
	"The closest I can ever be to possessing raven wings," he 
said with a sigh. Crystal blue eyes behind tinted shades scanned 
the beach. "Welcome, Rei-chan, to the Ocean of the Silver Orchids. 
If ever a comparison could be made, it would be with that of the 
ancient Sea of Serenity...in a place I once knew very well."
	For a moment he was lost within a bittersweet memory, but he 
quickly returned to be next to her.
	"It's beautiful," she said quietly, leaning against him.
	The firelights at first revealed them to be alone in quiet 
solitude on the beach until another dual shadows appeared from 
behind one of the rocks.
	Her eyes widened as she recognized the familiar faces of the 
two companions walking towards them. They were both tall, one 
appearing more elegant and refined, the other more boyish and 
athletic. The taller one's sandy blonde hair rustled slightly in 
the wind, but the other's wavy aqua-green hair billowed out if 
becoming the ripples of an ocean.
	"Ara ara," the Wanderer remarked. "It would appear we have 
some company with us tonight." He waved out to the two souls 
approaching them. "Haruka!" he called out. "Michiru!"
	She turned to him, surprised. "You know them?"
	He nodded. "Our wanderings have met from time to time."
	Once she thought a little more, she realized how much she 
was embarrassed by her own surprise. The tall brunette had told 
them of the fact that the raven angel knew these two young women 
for a while. Why not him, then?
	"Komban wa, Karasu," the sandy-haired blonde said to the 
Wanderer. "Managed to get lost in this place again?"
	He took her playful jab in stride, shrugging and grinning 
from behind his shades. "Oh you know me, Haruka. I'm like a 
compass without a needle when it comes to direction."
	The one with the aqua-green hair glanced over at her. "And 
who is your newest companion?" Equally aqua-green eyes focused on 
her, and then registered surprise. "Rei-chan! What are you doing 
here with him?"
	"I'm showing her around the Dreamworld," he explained. She 
felt relieved that he didn't tell the two young women the fact 
that she had brazenly gotten herself trapped inside this realm. 
	"That still doesn't explain the company she's keeping," the 
tall, sandy blonde remarked with a wicked grin.
	"I've been trying to find one for Michiru all these years," 
Karasu retorted. He glanced over at the aqua-green haired woman. 
"Why do you keep such company anyways, Michiru-chan?"
	"Someone has to pay the bills," the aqua-haired woman 
replied swiftly.
	"Hey!" the tall, sandy blonde protested.
	They all shared a laugh, though she felt uneasy around the 
others; she didn't know the two young women all that well. But 
Karasu seemed to be very good friends with them both.
	"What brings you to the northern shores of the Ocean of the 
Silver Orchids?" he inquired.
	"Michiru was complaining that we hadn't been to the beach in 
a while," the tall sandy-blonde replied. "So I decided this was 
the best place to go; no sweltering heat, no trash, and best of 
all no one else."
	"Or so you thought, love," the aqua-haired woman remarked. 
"It would appear you've managed to interrupt the two."
	And then as if ghosts themselves they faded. She was 
surprised though the Wanderer made no reaction. He had probably 
witnessed this before.
	"Yare yare," he sighed. "They're the only ones I know who 
can pull off a stunt like that. Only the raven angels can do that 
sort of teleporation...Showoffs."
	Together and alone now, they stared out at the crashing 
surf. "I've heard tale of this ocean realm," he said to her. "One 
that is from our old lives on the moon. A silver orchid is a 
legendary flower with silver petals tipped crystal blue; it could 
only be grown in the Imperial Palace on the moon. 
	"One of the planetary queens, from a time before Queen 
Serenity, fell in love with a guardian. They were doomed to never 
be together unless she dreamed. But they never stopped loving each 
other, even when she found a king and raised a family. She died in 
her sleep, and in her final dream she visited the guardian angel 
one last time. 
	"She brought with her a single blossoming silver orchid. 
When her tear struck the orchid, the angel used his magik to 
preserve the beauty of their love forever. It became this ocean. 
And nothing, not even the Shadowdemons, can try to conquer its 
magik. This is far too powerful a magik."
	He turned to her, removing his shades. "Let me show you such 
a magik, Rei-chan."
	He opened up his palm, a twinkling sphere of light slowly 
rising up from his hand into the night skies. And suddenly another 
glowing light appeared from behind one of the large rocks on the 
sands. And another. And another. Soon the beach was alive with 
these lights, as if a multitude of stars had come down.
	Minute bodies and tiny wings seemed to beat with the lights, 
a hundred souls that she could fit in a closed palm lifting up to 
the heavens.
	"Faery starlight," she whispered. Her violet eyes turned to 
the Wanderer, who was slowly twirling about in the middle of the 
faery starlights. He was lost from all the hesitation and regret, 
the burden of lives once lived and now untouchable, of a destiny 
he could never share with another.
	"Kara-chan..." she whispered softly. She wanted to tell him 
how much she wanted to thank him. How much she cared for him. How 
much she loved him.
	And then a distant call echoed past her ears: "Rei-chan!" 
The call belonged to the voice of a young man she knew in another 
life at a Shinto shrine. She found herself torn once more; just 
when she thought every last emotion had been sorted out, she was 
forced back onto her knees in doubt.
	Who did she love?
	But was the young man even alive now? The Wanderer had 
spoken of amok time within the Dreamworld, how nothing was aligned 
to her world. Two hours or two hundred years could have already 
passed her by. And what then?
	The faery starlight faded, the twinkling lights lost amidst 
the stars. As she watched the moonlit night, she made a choice. If 
this was her only chance at love, then she didn't want to waste 
it.
	Not when she had been brought here because of her search for 
such love. Perhaps it was fate that she found herself with him, 
walking the same worlds he walked. It would be alright for 
tonight, for this one night.
	With a sigh he returned to her, drawing her back up the 
grassy slope and onto the forest clearing. A perfect place to 
sleep and a magnificent view caught her breath and imagination. He 
leaned up against a curved rock, arms propped up on his knees. She 
sat a few feet away, content to watch his excited face.
	"Tonight calls for a celebration," the Wanderer remarked, a 
bottle of wine and two glasses appearing in his hands. "I would 
otherwise give a call to get drunk immediately, but then again I 
have a beautiful young maiden with me."
	She declined when he offered her a small amount of red wine. 
She wanted to be with him tonight, be one with him this night. But 
it still embarrassed her to approach him like this; would he see 
her as too aggressive?
	"You have a question you wish to ask me," he said abruptly. 
He glanced over with a grin, the bottle of wine vanishing. "I can 
read it in your face."
	She blushed; had she been that obvious? And she still 
couldn't find a voice for her words.
	"Go ahead," the Wanderer said, raising the glass to his 
lips. "Ask me anything. I've heard it all before."
	Her violet eyes lifted to the immortal young man who had for 
so long taken her under his wing. Ever since the raven angel had 
come to be with the tall brunette, she had wanted to experience 
love. And now she could feel it for Karasu.
	"Will...will you please make love to me, Kara-chan?" she 
asked of him.
	With a loud spluttering, Karasu coughed on the wine he had 
just tried to inadvertently breathe. "Okay, that was a new one," 
he remarked.
	She found it all the more difficult to even begin explaining 
as she looked into his crystal blue eyes. After all he had done 
for her, caring for her and watching over her.
	She moved up next to him. "You said yourself," she 
whispered, resting her head against his chest, listening to his 
heartbeat. "We could have already been here for two hundred years. 
I've been looking for this all my life, and I don't want to miss 
it. Please, Karasu, make love to me."
	She sat up, slowly pulling away the folds of her gown, 
letting it drop down from her shoulders to gather at her waist. 
Soft, rounded breasts were presented before him.
	Careful, if not hesitant, he reached out his hand and 
touched a coral-pink nipple. She moaned softly, her own hands 
digging through the buttons of his shirt and opening them up to 
display his firm chest.
	She purred as he stroked her long, dark hair. And then she 
lifted her head and pressed her lips against his. He made no 
protests, and didn't seem all that surprised. He returned her 
kiss, their lips meeting with a fierce passion.
	This was the love she had been searching for so long. But 
would she ever see those she too cared for again? The odango-
haired blonde, the blue-haired genius, the long-haired blonde, the 
tall brunette, the dark-haired prince; would she ever be in their 
company again?
	Was Karasu the only soul left for her now?
	It startled her to feel a drop of cool water running down 
her cheek. She was crying, and he saw it.
	He gently pulled away, staring at her with solemn yet gentle 
eyes. "Gomen, Rei-chan. You are a beautiful woman, and I find you 
very attractive...very attractive. But this doesn't feel right; 
your heart is trying to cope with the loneliness you are facing. 
And it would be wrong of me to take advantage of that."
	She closed her eyes, squeezing out more tears. Karasu 
grasped the edges of her robes and pulled them back over her 
shoulders.
	"Kara-chan!" she cried out, collapsing into his arms. He 
held her there, letting her tears of frustration and loneliness 
flow. Had she been deceiving herself that she loved him? Or did 
she truly love him?
	If only she knew.
	"Kara-chan," she cried.
	"Shhhh," he said quietly. "Daijobu, Rei-chan. Cry all you 
want. I understand. I understand...."


	Three young men stood together in the heart of a deep and 
lush forest of emerald trees and leaves. In the distance they 
could hear the faint roar of a towering waterfall crashing into a 
gorge far below. Around their feet were pawprints of a pack of 
silver wolves in the moist ground.
	"They're close," the raven knight said, slowly opening his 
eyes. "For now she and the Wanderer sleep, but the next time we 
walk amidst our dreams we shall find them both for certain."
	"There is a danger," the raven angel said quietly. "They are 
bordering on a newfound shadow kingdom. Its minions will be on the 
prowl in my domain."
	Both eyes turned to the shrine protege; they had taken him 
aside from the others. Once they had been like him, and knew what 
he was feeling, what he was capable of committing.
	"I can handle it," the young man stated. "Sora, Kishi; let 
me find her. Let me take the responsibility for whatever happens. 
I ask you, please. I can handle it."
	"Can you?" Kishi asked solemnly, sapphire eyes once more 
sealed. The raven knight's body faded like the evening mist, 
disappearing and once again leaving the young man alone.
	The shrine protege turned to Sora; the raven angel was 
retreating slowly, fading too like the evening mist. "Though he is 
not the kind to say it aloud," the raven angel's whispers came 
with the winds. "Kishi believes in you, Yuichiro...as do I. Go to 
her, and be careful."
	The young man bowed with deep respect. "Arigato," he said. 
This was his last chance to prove himself to her, the reason he 
had for pressing on in life: the girl he loved.
	"Rei-chan," he whispered softly. "Please hear me...."


	When she awoke, she was alone. At first panic struck as she 
searched the glen for Karasu but found only the clearing of the 
forests and the drop leading down to the coastal sands. The only 
sounds were of the crashing waves against rock and sand.
	Carefully she stood and looked around, reaching out with her 
senses. His aura was closeby, in sight but not in the sight of her 
eyes. She walked over to the top of the slope and looked down onto 
the sandy beaches.
	He was dressed in only his pants; bare feet and bare chest. 
Even the shades were gone. He was training, moving with slow and 
graceful elegance.
	Balance on one foot, kick over his head, maintain balance, 
deliver a swift jab with one hand, a vicious uppercut with the 
other. Even more complicated motions followed, the sweat 
glistening off his body in the moonlight.
	With the roar of the crashing waves she thought she could 
approach him unnoticed. But the Wanderer simply smiled as he 
perched on one foot, his other leg raised high over his head.
	"Komban wa, Rei-chan."
	She smiled softly at him. "Komban wa, Kara-chan."
	Her eyes drifted down to his chest; this was the first time 
she had seen him out of his entire suit. He was fit and very 
defined with his muscles, no doubt from over a thousand years of 
training. 
	But then she saw his back, and the marking. It was large, 
intricate and exotic. The foreign character was deep black, the 
numerous strokes reaching out to his sides and even stretching 
around his neck and shoulders.
	"What is that marking on your back?" she asked.
	He glanced over his shoulders at her. "This? Nothing much, 
really. A rune of the Dreamworld, though anyone I've ever 
encountered can't read it. It appeared when I first got lost 
here."	
	"It's beautiful," she whispered, running her fingers down 
his back. He shivered at her touch and she remembered last night. 
But he never pressed the matter, and so neither would she. It was 
better this way.
	"Yours isn't bad either," he added.
	She paused, confused. "I have one too?"
	"Look at your chest."
	She opened the front collar of her garments. A smaller rune, 
but noticeable none the less was nestled between her breasts.
	"Mine used to be small," Karasu said, resuming his training 
stances. "But the longer I've been here, the larger it has become. 
It stopped growing around four hundred years ago; I think it's 
reached its maximum size limit."
	He opened his hand, and a small light enveloped his palm. 
The sword emerged from the light, beautiful and deadly all at once 
in both form and elegance.
	"It's beautiful," she said quietly.
	"Arashi," he stated. "It's name is Arashi: the Stormsword. 
It comes from the root of my original magik, before I delved into 
illusions. I hold the power of a thunderstorm in my blood, and 
thus the Arashi holds the power within its blade."
	Almost like the tall brunette did with her attacks. She 
found herself wondering if Karasu might be related to any of them, 
a cousin or an older brother. And yet she found herself unable to 
ask when she opened her mouth.
	To wreck the charisma and mystery about him seemed wrong.
	"I will be done in a short time," he said to her. "If we 
hurry with breakfast we can reach Sora's domain before we need to 
rest again. Are you ready?"
	She nodded, her body warming up with her smile.


	The pale light of a crescent moon shone overhead, casting a 
strange crimson glow on the torii standing at the base of the 
mountain range. And four young women stood beneath the structure, 
waiting on the cobblestone path.
	"Why are we just waiting her to do nothing?" the odango-
haired blonde said impatiently. "We should be out looking for Rei-
chan!"
	"Calm down, Usagi-chan," the long-haired blonde said. "If 
Kishi and Sora told us to keep back, then I'm sure there must be a 
good reason for it."
	"I've been through the forest with Sora-chan many times," 
the tall brunette stated. "He's never acted this protective over 
me or any of us walking through it before. Something is definitely 
bothering him and Kishi."
	The cool breeze of the midnight hour swept past them, and 
none of the girls could tell whether or not their shivers were 
from the wind or from their fears.
	"Anything yet?" came a new voice. It was the dark-haired 
prince, appearing in step through the torii. "Gomen, Usa-ko; I 
would have been here sooner had something not come up."
	"Mamo-chan," the odango-haired blonde said, smiling at the 
prince. "Nothing yet; Kishi and Sora have told us to stay away 
from the forest."
	"I think I've found something," the blue-haired genius piped 
up, working at her compact computer, the visor still around her 
eyes. Fingers worked rapidly on the computer's keyboard. "I'm not 
sure but it might be Yuichiro."
	"So what's he doing there?" the long-haired blonde remarked. 
"Why can he go and not us?"
	"Wait," the blue-haired genius countered. "There's something 
else close to Yuichiro-san. It's hard to detect, almost like a 
ghost. Multiple signals...they're closing in on him."
	Everyone there waited for the computer to finish its 
processing. And then an answer was given on the screen to its 
user.  The blue-haired genius' eyes widened, and a blank stare was 
lifted to the forest at the end of the fields. 
	"What is it, Ami-chan?" the tall brunette asked.
	"Is it Rei?" the dark-haired prince pressed. "The Wanderer?"
	The blue-haired genius was quite still, the fear growing in 
two ocean blue eyes. "Shadowcreatures," she whispered.
	Bogeymen....


	There was an uneasiness in the shadows of the forest, though 
this domain held within itself an aura that glowed from every tree 
and plant in the green foliage. She glanced around, questioning 
herself. Her sixth sense was practically screaming out a warning 
in her mind, but there was nothing else to justify it.
	"Do you feel a dark aura?" she asked.
	The Wanderer paused atop a large root that had risen out 
from the ground. He was visibly disturbed as she; but in his 
expression she knew he could not locate the source.
	Karasu shook his head. "Something doesn't feel right about 
this place. It's different from when I last came here." He 
shrugged, shaking it aside. "I don't know; it's been almost five 
decades since I was this way. Maybe Sora's magik changed when he 
left."
	She closed her own eyes, focusing her psychic powers. Ever 
since the Mystwolves every last sense she possessed was opening up 
and making her aware of so much more than she thought existed. 
"It's not this place," she countered, opening her eyes. "I can 
feel a dark aura but it hasn't originated from this place. I'm 
barely even finding this presence."
	Abruptly Karasu came to a stop, staring out at the dense 
foliage before them. There was a path, worn and ready to be used 
once more.
	"What is it?" she asked.
	He turned to her solemnly. "This is the last stretch, Rei-
chan. Not twenty paces away lies the open fields and a cobblestone 
path leading to Sora's gateway."
	"Aren't you coming?" she asked, confused by his hesitation.
	He shook his head. "Not this time, Rei-chan. You must make 
the final journey alone, to decide where you want to be. And that 
decision is not mine to make."
	He was holding back more than just his emotions. He was 
holding himself back.
	"You...you're not going back to Earth," she said finally, 
unbelieving of the words she spoke. "You're going to stay here."
	The Wanderer nodded. "I don't belong in your world any 
longer, Rei. As much as I don't belong here in the Dreamworld." He 
gave a wry grin. "I don't think I belong anywhere except somewhere 
in between."
	"Baka!" she shouted angrily. "You can fit into my world! 
It'll just take time! Sora and Kishi could do it, so why are you 
walking away?" 
	"Because it is for the better," he answered.
	"We could be together even still!" she protested, hot tears 
threatening to stream down her face. "You can meet my friends and 
have a normal life! I'm a Sailor Senshi and I've been able to 
manage!"
	But he just shook his head.
	"You coward!" she exclaimed.
	Yet the Wanderer remained unfazed. "Search your heart, Rei. 
There must be a reason for you to leave. And if I am with you, the 
decision cannot be made. Our destinies were made to cross this one 
time, but now we must say good-bye."
	From behind his shades his crystal blue eyes darted to the 
trees behind her. As if he could see and sense something she could 
not. "Besides," he added. "There's someone else waiting for you on 
the other side."
	"Rei-chan!" a voice called out.
	She whirled, eyes widened at the sound.
	"Rei!" came the desperate words of a young man. "Please 
answer me!"
	"Yuichiro," she whispered. She turned to Karasu, searching 
his eyes. This was the final decision she had to make; she was 
still uncertain which destiny was hers to take. Which world was 
really hers, and which one was a dream? Whom did she love?
	"Go to him," the Wanderer's whisper echoed in her ear. "You 
have a reason to keep pressing on, Rei-san. That is why you hold a 
chance to escape."
	He was giving her his blessing to leave. And then she 
realized how much the Wanderer truly understood her. He knew her 
well enough to leave her alone despite his feelings. 
	She turned and embraced him for the last time. "I'll never 
forget you," she said, a tear rolling down her cheek.
	He smiled, removing his shades. "Hey, I'll be around. Just 
close your eyes and dream, and maybe you'll run into me."
	With his final act before she left him, Karasu took her hand 
in his and raised it to his lips to gently kiss it. She still 
found herself blushing, though not out of embarrassment; 
excitement had seized her entire heart and soul.
	She wanted to break into a run, but restrained until he 
released her hand. She turned and started to chase after the young 
man calling out to her.
	"Wait!" Karasu said abruptly, stepping after her. 
	She paused and turned.
	"Give Yuichiro this," he said, tossing her a crystal orb. 
"He has the heart to cross the Dreamworld and its dangers in 
search of you," the Wanderer said quietly, turning away. "Now give 
him the power to survive whatever crosses his path."
	Her eyes darted down to the crystal and then up to him. But 
the Wanderer had already vanished; all that remained was an empty 
clearing and the disappearing waves of a grey mist. There was 
nothing holding her back any longer. She was going to be with her 
friends again, the ones she cared deeply for, the young man she 
finally knew she loved.
	"Yuichiro!" she called out. "Yuichiro!"
	She was going home.


	At first the young man had thought his senses were snapping 
under the strain. Maybe all the pressure and anxiety was finally 
striking his mind down. For days he had been fighting fatigue in 
both realms.
	But to hear her voice--her voice calling out to him. It 
seemed as if he was imagining it. Every night he had come so close 
to finding her, only to discover that she had been there once 
before and moved on.
	"Yuichiro!"
	He whirled, that voice calling out his name again. "It can't 
be," he said quietly, trying to calm the beating of his heart. If 
this proved to be a mere illusion he doubted his strength would 
last any longer.
	But it wasn't.
	The shrine protege's eyes widened beneath his bangs of 
scruffy brown hair as he saw her running towards him. She was 
dressed in different robes, her hair tied in behind her back, but 
it was still her.
	He saw those violet eyes beckoning to him.
	And the young man knew this was no dream.
	"Rei-chan!" he exclaimed, racing up to close in the distance 
between them. He swept her feet off the ground when they met, arms 
around each other in a joyous embrace.
	"I thought I had lost you," he said, tears with no definable 
emotion running down his cheeks. "I've been following you like a 
shadow for as long as you've been wandering this realm."
	Abruptly a thought occurred to the shrine protege, and he 
looked around the forest. "Where is the Wanderer?"
	"He stayed back," she said, smiling at the brief image of 
Karasu in her mind. "How long have I been lost?"
	"Almost a week," the young man answered. "You're lucky; your 
grandfather will be coming back in one day. I don't think he could 
have taken the strain we've been through."
	She was surprised that her time in the Dreamworld passed 
faster than the time on Earth. But Karasu had said before to her 
that time differed on the dreamer. She was one of the lucky ones.
	"I've been calling out your name for as long as I can 
remember," he said, holding her tighter now.
	"I know," she replied softly. "I heard you calling me."
	She could have stayed forever in his embrace, feeling the 
warmth of his skin against hers, the power of his love encircling 
them both. Tokyo wasn't a mere dream; it was her world. And 
finally she could be going home with him, the man she loved.
	"Yuichiro," she said quietly.
	"Rei-chan," he answered. "I love you."
	They looked into each other's eyes, and their lips moved 
closer to touch in a passionate kiss. But it was not to be in that 
moment.
	The beasts of the darkness came. She sucked in her breath as 
their stalking figures approached, a chorus of delighted evil 
laughter rising up from around them. 
	The forms of these things were more grotesque than the 
hobgoblins, tall and gaunt and a stance like a scarecrow: 
elongated legs and arms with large joints ready to burst through 
tight, pale skin that seemed barely capable to hold the creature 
together. Buldging yellow eyes and a sloped jawline displaying 
rows of jagged, icicle-like teeth only added to the terrifying 
effect.
	"Na ni?" the shrine protege muttered, pushing her behind 
him.
	Her own eyes were wide in stunned disbelief. These things 
were indeed spawns of the Shadowdemons, but they were nothing like 
the hobgoblins. These were much worse.
	"No," she whispered. Please anything but these beasts. 
	"Rei," the young man said, stepping back as the creatures 
began to close in around them. "Do you what they are?"
	She nodded, reaching into her robes for her transformation 
stick. "Karasu called them Bogeymen."
	In form the Bogeymen were like a walking nightmare come to 
hideous life. But their laugh...it was like listening to a group 
of hyenas with sadistic cackles and choruses of laughter and 
chuckles. Each breath they took was raspy, hoarse and shallow. 
Their chests were pushed out and then sucked in with every last 
breath, their ribcage twice the length of a human's.
	The young man's eyes narrowed; alone and without any magik 
to call his own in the Dreamworld, he didn't stand a chance. But 
if he held these things back, at least she might.
	"Playtoys," a Bogeyman wheezed in cruel laughter.
	"And a pretty one too," another rasped.
	Their chorus of laughter echoed across the forest again.
	"Shimatta," she muttered, glancing down at her stick; he 
still didn't know that she was by magik a Senshi, a soldier with 
incredible powers. But if she didn't transform, they were both 
dead.
	"Get away from her, you bastards!" 
	She jerked her head up only to see the young man growling, 
taking a step forward to meet against the closest Bogeyman.
	"You so much as touch her and I swear I'll kill you!" he 
shouted angrily. Such hostility in his eyes, fierce and righteous 
with the intent to protect her. The young woman he had fallen in 
love with at first sight, whom he had been shyly watching as he 
tended to the shrine.
	"Yuichiro!" she exclaimed. "You'll get yourself killed going 
up against them!"
	He turned back, a peaceful smile on his face of already 
accepting fate. "I've loved you since the first night I met you," 
he said to her. "Right here and now is my chance to prove myself. 
If I have to die in doing so, then at least it will be for you."
	"Baka," she whispered, fighting back bitter tears. The hell 
she would let this happen! She looked down at her transformation 
stick.  "Mars Star Power!" she shouted. "Make Up!"
	The shrine protege was motionless, stunned as a white light 
swallowed her up and the aura of fire magik exploded around her 
body. She was now in her sailor battle fuku; there could be no 
more hiding of the truth, of who she really was.
	"You dare attack a realm of beauty," she growled. "and then 
the man I love. I don't care what you are! I'll never forgive you 
for what you've done!"
	One Bogeyman snarled, stalking towards her, thick saliva 
glistening from its jaws. "Pretty little face," it snarled with a 
decadent grin. It turned to the others. "She's mine."
	Its eyes locked onto hers, a blackest of desires creeping 
into its gaze. She had seen that before with the hobgoblins. But 
it would not happen like that again.
	Not ever again!
	"Mars Flame Sniper!" she shouted, launching her fiery attack 
at the master Bogeyman.  
	The creature was agile given its awkward form, dodging her 
attack and suddenly lunging at her. She cried out in a strangled 
gasp as she found her throat seized by its long, pronged fingers, 
hoisting her up off the ground to dangle in front of the beast.
	It chuckled as she gasped for air. "Maybe I'll ravish you 
while I choke the life out of your pretty little throat."
	And then something fell, its spherical form catching a 
glimpse of moonlight and flashing in the eyes of all around it. 
Her eyes widened; Karasu's crystal illusion. But how could it have 
simply fallen out of her battle fuku when she had transformed?
	"Illusion?" the Bogeyman said aloud, confused.
	The form of the beast abruptly shuddered and she was 
released, thrown to the ground. Her eyes were lifted to the 
creature of evil and found the young man still ramming against it, 
pushing it into a tree.
	With a grunt the Bogeymen stumbled, only to recover and swat 
the young man aside. He screamed as his chest was torn open from 
the clawed fingers, his body tumbling across the grasses.
	"Yuichiro!" she screamed.
	He moaned, slowly rolling onto his back. Streaks of crimson 
blood tainted the white shreds of his kimono. "It's not over yet," 
he said between shallow gasps.
	Already the Bogeymen were closing in around him like a pack 
of predators. Unless she intervened he was dead in a matter of 
heartbeats.
	Her vision found the Wanderer's crystal, just a few steps 
away from her. And then with a loud howl the master Bogeyman rose 
from the forest, its gaze fixating on her violet eyes. It snarled 
and leaped towards her.
	Panic struck, and she had but one last chance to save them 
both. She groped for the crystal, desperately trying to at least 
touch it with her fingers. But the howl of the Bogeyman caused her 
to turn back--and she braced herself as the creature lunged for 
her, claws and fangs displayed for a hideous torture of body and 
soul.
	Suddenly the air pulsated and moved, taking invisible but 
solid form. The Bogeyman reeled as it was struck, its body thrown 
aside as if it were a ragdoll. The creatures of darkness moved 
away from the young man, who was weakly pulling himself along the 
forest floor.
	"Who dares defy me?" the master Bogeyman hissed, wiping its 
bloodied cheek.
	Walking out from nothing, as if he were passing through a 
wall of visibility, the Wanderer appeared. The Arashi was in his 
hand, the blade glowing and ringing in the winds. Dark emotions 
were in his eyes as he slowly removed his shades.
	"So," he said, malice dripping from his every word. "You 
bastards attacked the Mystwolves."
	"Karasu!" she called out to him.
	He never even glanced in her direction his focus contained 
within a steel glare at the Bogeymen.
	"Wanderer," the master Bogeyman snarled. "You have come 
after all. Then it was your illusion the girl held."
	The creatures of darkness began to leave her and the young 
man alone, advancing towards the Wanderer.
	"My fight," he countered, leveling his sword to the Bogeyman 
master's throat. "is with you alone. The others will find 
vengeance stalking them in another form."
	The creature smiled, rows of jagged fangs moving forward and 
dripping with saliva. "Leave us!" it snarled, waving away its 
comrades in terror. "I will take care of this one myself. I will 
have the honour of feasting on your carcass."
	Karasu only smiled savagely, the Arashi still in his one 
hand. "Ara, you really believe that?"
	She could only watch the battle. In her arms the young man 
groaned, grimacing as pain spasmed through his body. "Yuichiro," 
she whispered softly. "You didn't have to do this for me. Not for 
me."
	"It would seem selfish if I did it for myself," the shrine 
protege replied with a weak smile. The smile faded as the young 
man tilted his head. "Rei-chan, they're coming."
	She whirled; the other Bogeyman were closing in around them. 
Gently laying the young man on the grass, she stood between him 
and the beasts. Fire crackled around her aura.
	She was vaguely aware of a crystal orb rolling across the 
forest floor of its own accord, destination and destiny to cross 
the injured shrine progete.
	The first Bogeyman smashed a fist into her chest, lifting 
her into the air and throwing her against tree. The breath from 
her lungs was stolen, her body crying out in pain. She hit the 
ground, coughing and gasping.
	"Rei-chan!" the shrine protege screamed.
	She barely even moved, though she slowly raised her head to 
see the creature's vicious claws being raked down upon her. And 
then came the light. Brilliant white light that tore the 
creature's arm from the rest of its body. The wound spewed out 
thick, murky blood that splattered across her face.
	Standing there, his entire chest moving with each passionate 
breath, was the shrine protege. And yet not so much a stranger 
from another world. Now he was dressed as a warrior with flowing 
cloak and armour, a pauldron on his left shoulder and his clenched 
fists crackling with magik.		
	"Rei-chan," he said with new energy. A second strike 
finished off the wounded Bogeyman.
	The power of Karasu's illusion was before her now, and she 
looked upon the young man with awe and wonder. He had changed, 
become a knight like the others.
	"Yuichiro," she whispered.
	Another Bogeyman lunged for him, but this was struck with a 
new source of magik, ripped apart by a tempest forged out of the 
air. A second Bogeyman suddenly found itself swallowed up by a 
fury of crackling blue flames. Out from the darkness the raven 
knight and the raven angel emerged, their own deadly magik flowing 
around them in a spectacular aura.
	"Kishi!" she exclaimed. "Sora!"
	"Komban wa, Rei-chan," Sora said. 
	She spun as another Bogeyman lunged for her; the Flame 
Sniper sent its head across the forest and its body to hell. 
Between the four warriors the last of the Shadowspawn were 
destroyed.
	"Damn, that felt good," Kishi said, cracking his knuckles.
	"What of the Wanderer?" Sora asked.
	They all whirled as the forest was filled with a deadly 
magik, as if streaked lightening had descended upon them all. The 
power was coming from Karasu, crackling arcs of blue light 
pulsating and raging around his body. The master Bogeyman was in 
an enraged charge, ready to tear through him. Karasu, crystal eyes 
locked and narrow, held his ground. 
	"Shin'ne!" the beast howled.
	The Wanderer raised his sword, and with a loud battle cry 
brought it down as the demon spawn lunged. He leaped from the 
forest floor, exploding into the air as arcs and tempests of 
lightening magik churned all around him. The slender blade shone 
with all the blinding lights, and suddenly out from the metal 
exrupted a swarming array of pure unbridled magik.
	The entire blade of the Arashi roared with blue light, 
unleashing a shockwave of storm magik that radiated out from the 
Wanderer. Its eruption was like a tsunami of lightening, and it 
fell upon the creature of darkness in a heartbeat. The Bogeyman's 
howl became a shriek it was swallowed up by the light.
	"NA NI?!"
	Suddenly Karasu punched through the storm's vortex, streaks 
of lightening pulsating all around him yet with no effect upon his 
body. Magik is always symbiotic if its wielder knew how to use it 
wisely enough. Yet when turned against another, magik is 
indifferent in its attack. It becomes all the more savage. 
	The Bogeyman pierced the dying rays of light, falling 
forwards with a horrified look upon its face. The pale skin was 
smoking yet unburned. By all appearances it had emerged unscathed 
by the Arashi's power. Yet appearances deceive. Before it would 
have crashed onto the ground it split apart, bisected lengthwise 
down the middle. Cut in half, the Bogeyman let out one final howl 
of agony before its corpse collapsed upon the green earth, 
spilling forth blackened entrails that gave off a foul stench.
	It laid there in a puddle of its own flesh and blood before
it was consumed by a white fire, incinerated by the final act of 
the Arashi's storm magik. Karasu's body relaxed, the sword 
retracting into the glowing light from his palm. He turned to the 
others, a dark but satisfied smile across his face. A quick flick 
of the wrist found his shades back over his eyes.
	She turned to Kishi and Sora, wanting to thank them. But the 
guardian angels were already gone, a few raven wing feathers 
drifting down to the grassy earth. They would be waiting with the 
others for her to return home.
	Her friends.
	Her family.
	Her world.
	She glanced back at the Wanderer. "Kara-chan, I..."
	But there was no one to talk to. No one she could see. Just 
like the winds and the mist they carried, the Wanderer had 
vanished back into the Dreamworld.
	"Rei-chan," the shrine protege said.
	She looked into his eyes, and found within them a love that 
had been willing to die in exchange for her life. For so long he 
had been calling her, ready to risk everything he possessed to 
bring her back.
	He grinned as he brushed his hand along the folds of her 
battle fuku. "Sailor Mars," he remarked. "All this time I never 
knew. Either you are very good at keeping secrets, or I'm very 
blind."
	She laughed, relieved that he thought nothing of her hidden 
magik as a Sailor Senshi. Perhaps this was from Karasu, or else 
from the young man himself. But it didn't matter. He loved her for 
who she was.
	"Yuichiro," she said.
	"Hai."
	"Kiss me." Before he could react she reached up and took 
hold of his cheeks in her hands, bringing his lips to meet hers. 
Together they kissed. It was with regret that they parted, but 
there were others who wanted to see her.
	She thought she caught sight of Karasu in the corner of her 
eye, a glimpse of the Wanderer's billowing white cloak dancing in 
the winds. But when she turned all she saw was the fading wisps of 
grey mist.
	"Rei-chan?" the shrine protege asked.
	She smiled to herself and looked back to the edge of the 
forest. "Let's go home," she said, leading the way.


	He smiled as her and the shrine progete disappear, walking 
hand in hand in a return to the world they belonged to. So where 
did that leave him? Right now he didn't belong to either world.
	The Wanderer opened his hand, twirling three crystal orbs in 
his palm with his fingers. Gracefully he plucked one of the 
crystals from their rotation, raising the orb to his lips and 
blowing it into the winds. It floated like a bubble, soaring high 
into the heavens until it was lost in the night. The other two 
crystals followed its fated path.
	Floating wishes, a constant hope.
	He sighed and shook his head, removing his shades. "Why do I 
always let it end up being like this?" he remarked to himself. 
"She was the best thing that ever happened to me in five hundred 
years."
	Someone like her only came along once in a lifetime. And he 
had easily lived through two or three during his roaming between 
realms. Only once before had he found someone like her, and in 
both cases it was not meant to be.
	Perhaps it was all for the better.
	He laughed in spite of himself and replaced the shades over 
his crystal blue eyes. And so the Wanderer turned away and took 
his first step towards another journey with an unknown 
destination, his figure melting into the shadows of the night.
	"Sayonara...Rei-chan."


	The rays of an evening October sun were creeping in through 
the paper screens of the Shinto shrine building's fusama. Two 
forms were beneath covers of the single futon in the room, asleep 
together.
	One stirred and rose up from the covers, long dark hair 
flowing around her face. She stretched as she awoke, the warmth of 
the fading sunlight across her naked body. The young man mumbled 
something in his sleep and rolled over, his hand brushing against 
her thigh.
	She touched her breast, smiling as the memories returned to 
her. They had all cried when she finally met with them beneath the 
torii. And then with the sounding of a raven, she awoke and found 
herself beneath the covers of a bed. All her friends were in the 
room too, and they awoke to be together again.
	A long time of sharing experiences and stories; they all 
listened quietly as she told them the tale of the Wanderer, a 
raven by name and not wings. And even though he was gone, his 
magik was still with them all as she retold the stories of her 
travels.
	A cool draft moved through the room, and she reached for the 
kimono beside the futon. Disgarded there in the dying hours of the 
night as the sun rose, she and the young man had come together for 
her first time. Her body tingled at the thought of being so close, 
feeding off the passionate heat of each other's bodies. She had 
cried out when the wave of incredible pleasure rushed through her.
	Both exhausted from their love-making and from their battles 
in the Dreamworld, they had slept as if sunlight was moonlight. 
And this time she found herself standing next to her beloved, no 
longer lost but safe in his embrace.
	She sighed, still basking in the afterglow. Wrapping the 
kimono around herself, she slipped through the hallway and stepped 
outside. 
	Grandfather would return tomorrow morning. 
	She doubted she would ever tell him of this until much later 
in life. The others, especially the two guardian angels, had 
agreed it best to keep her lost days quiet for the moment.
	All around her the trees were rustling with the winds of 
dusk. The Shinto shrine was quiet tonight, thankfully. The only 
company she found there in the courtyard was her own shadow. Her 
violet eyes lifted up to the firelit skies.
	This one time she wanted to see the sunset, her first in a 
long while. High overhead the skies were bathed in deep blue, 
igniting and blazing the closer she looked to the horizon line.
	As she watched the sun slowly go to sleep on her side of the 
world, her thoughts drifted to the Wanderer. Where did he find 
himself now as she gazed upon the setting sun? Did he still 
remember her, or had another hundred years passed him by since 
they parted?
	She turned around, and let out a startled gasp as she 
suddenly struck someone in her walk.
	"G-Gomen," she said, bowing slightly.
	"Daijobu...Ojo-san," replied a familiar voice.
	Her eyes widened as caught sight of a dark jacket and white 
dress shirt move out of her peripheral vision, long strands of 
vibrant, shining blonde hair drifting down around the young man's 
shoulders.
	"Kara-chan!" she whispered, her lead still lowered.
	She whirled, and was met with only an empty walkway into the 
Shinto shrine. The winds played with her tresses of long dark hair 
and the ends of her kimono. 
	"Rei-chan?" 
	It was the protege of the shrine, her beloved. He smiled as 
he saw her violet eyes, his own hidden behind that scruffy brown 
hair of his. Strange that the young man still appeared as handsome 
as when transformed in the Dreamworld. Now whenever they walked 
amidst their beautiful dreams together, he was her knight. And 
would remain her knight until both the illusion and illusionist 
ever found a way home.
	"Daijobu, Rei-chan?" he asked.
	She smiled quietly and nodded, slipping her hand into his, 
fingers lacing together. With the rays of a setting October sun 
behind them, they walked together into one of the buildings. The 
fusama slid shut behind them, giving the two lovers some privacy 
for the heralded nightfall.
	And from atop the torii of her Shinto shrine, the Wanderer 
replaced the shades over his eyes. He smiled quietly to himself, 
his form slowly fading out from their world as if her were a 
ghost.
	"Until we meet again, Rei-chan. Until we meet again...."


=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 4th Night - The Labyrinth's Tale
Rated R


	Enigma: (n) 2. an inexplicable circumstance, event 
	  or occurrence; an unsolved problem; mystery  3. a 
	  person not readily understood; one that exhibits 
	  an incomprehensible mix of opposite qualities

				-Webster's 3rd International Dictionary


	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be brought to life in 
words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for others to gaze 
upon and be swallowed whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a 
thousand dreamers and their dreams. Within every soul lies a story to tell, 
each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many 
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko 
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. They belong 
in her embrace. But the masquerade wraith and his eternal ballroom dance 
belong to another, and it is of my skin and soul. I embrace his masquerade 
and its silent labyrinth as my own children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their creators. The 
world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong to Naoko 
Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a part of her 
stories. But palace floating above a silver ocean is a part of my own story. 
Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles beyond the moon, and my 
masquerading lovers belong within the ballroom inside our dreams. 
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for your 
requests if you wish my raven angels to wander into other worlds and other 
stories.

	-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)



	The burning fire shakes in the night,
	  On high her silver candles gleam,
	With far-flung arms enflamed with light,
	  The trees are lost in dream.

	Come in thy beauty! 'tis my love,
	  Lost in far-wandering desire
	Hath in the darkling deep above
	  Set stars and kindled fire.

				-Walter de la Mare, "Invocation"


	Out in the distance there lies an ancient floating palace, a citadel 
hovering above the waves and waters of a deep and silver ocean. I can see 
the palace now from these sandy shores, a mere silhouette in the distance. 
It was these shores that found the dark-haired shrine girl amidst my 
wanderings. But that is another story, another tale to be told perhaps later 
or perhaps never again.
	Sometimes the line between fantasy and reality is blurred to the 
point where it does not exist. The Dreamworld in itself is proof of that, but 
holds its own boundaries of what is real and what is illusion. As a master of 
the art, I know of the soul who resides inside this floating palace. He is of 
the mysterious labyrinth and of the deceiving masks, woven perfectly into 
the eternal masquerade ball within those walls. But masks are not eternal, 
and will one day come off. Only then can we decipher between what is real 
and what is illusion.
	Of who it is we truly love.
	Of what it is we truly fear.
	Let me tell you a story....


	THE LABYRINTH'S TALE
	

	All around her lights seemed to glitter, as if all the stars in the sky 
had been captured and gathered here to be woven into a fabric of diamond 
gemstones.
	Slowly she walked down the large, spiral stairs that led into the 
sprawling ballroom. Arches and pillars adorned with statues of curving 
dragons and leaping dolphins were scattered across the expansive marble 
floor. Silver drapes were suspended in the air overhead, pillars and columns 
and archways decorating the ballroom everywhere she turned her eyes.
	Her eyes turned upwards, to the circular walls around her. In 
behind they were solid and firm up until the ceiling. These led deeper into 
the heart of the castle. And yet as they curved around to the far side of the 
ballroom, they became arches upon arches, both gothic and beautiful, a 
row of snowy white cut with a row of marble black.
	From these curved gateways a pale crescent moon shone into the 
grand room, its reflection bouncing off the ocean waves that only 
disappeared when the edge of the horizon was reached. Gentle ocean 
breezes flowed through, playing the ends of her sapphire gown. Laces and 
ruffles of overlapping crystal blue and ocean blue trailed down over her 
shoulders and at her feet. She could still feel the petals of the violet orchid 
touch her bangs of hair which, in the moonlight, shone a pale blue tint.
	She sighed. "It is beautiful," she admitted.
	But it was not for her. Such a place was for those down in the 
centre of the ballroom: those who were dressed in rich and flowing, 
opulent gowns, those wearing masks of a masquerade and dancing with 
another. She had come alone, and would leave alone. This was not a place 
for her to be, and yet once again she found herself drawn here. But why? 
What could she possibly find here that would give her a reason to dance, to 
thrill with the masquerade?
	And then she saw the shadow. 
	His shadow.
	He was high atop the arches encircling the ballroom, up at the 
second level of black marble. Seated against the inner curvature, he leaned 
against the firm structure, an arm propped up on one knee, his other leg 
dangling lazily over the edge. His suit was exotic and dark, black and 
formal. An enormous cloak was at his back, jade green beneath an outer 
wall of starless night.
	She felt her heart pound a little harder inside her ribcage. 
Something seemed to flood into her body. This couldn't be--was she 
feeling...excitement?
	"You...." she whispered.
	From high above the young man smiled playfully, and then leaned 
forward. His body toppled over the edge, dropping towards the marble 
floor. And yet as he fell there was the grace of a bird of prey, as if he were 
gliding on the winds, his cloak wrapping and overlapping around him.
	The suit and cloak, and thus the young man beneath them, were 
swallowed up by the others. A crowd of dancers and masks, twirling and 
twisting, laughing and drinking, lost in the gaze and smiles of each other. 
Plummage and colours, sparkling gemstones and fiery bodypaint flashed 
past her in a blur of exotic costumes, silken suits and fine garments.
	Her hand gripped the banister of the stairs. All these guises; how 
would she find him? This was a new sensation to her, living for the thrill of 
the hunt. But what was she hunting? Why was she hunting?
	It couldn't be that she found him...attractive. 
	It simply couldn't be that. 
	His face had been hidden in the shadows when he looked down at 
her with that smile. But his eyes: a pair of brilliant jade green eyes had 
stared at her with such a dangerous charm. "This must be a dream," she 
said quietly to herself. "I'm in the Dreamworld. But why here? Why this 
place?"
	She stepped down one stair, and then the next. It was time to take 
a chance, for that strange dancer had the answers she wanted. Within five 
steps of reaching the end of the stairs she was engulfed and in the thick of 
the masquerade dancers. 
	The sensation as she cut through the fevered couples was electric, 
her body starting tingle as she felt their emotions become hers. A bonding 
of auras and magik, brought about by such a large number of lovers 
dancing here together. She was starting to feel uneasy as her body started 
to grow warm but flustered.
	She turned, and saw a figure stealthily cut through the crowd of 
masked dancers. All she caught sight of was his dark suit and billowing 
cloak disappear behind a set of parading facades.
	For a moment it had appeared as if he was watching her.
	She moved through the ranks, searching for the young man behind 
the mask. She was oblivious to his presence as she passed him by. He was 
beside her for a moment, masked and leaning against the shoulders of a 
female dancer. A dark smile crossed his lips as she pushed past him, 
unaware that he was right beside her.
	Locks of straight and long, dark hair the colour of earthen-brown 
dangled around his eyes and draped past his shoulders, the remainder 
caught up and gathered together in a long and thick braid trailing down his 
waist. She never had a chance to fully see him save a glimpse as she 
glanced back. A smile pulled at his lips once more, and then he was gone as 
a dancer passed in front of him.
	Her eyes fell upon a couple dancing and laughing together, lost in 
each other's gazes. A tall brunette with a simple sparkling emerald eye 
mask and a young man with a long, dark braid, and a face hidden behind a 
mask of raven's feathers that stretched out like wings. For a moment she 
could have sworn she recognized those two dancers in the corner.
	She shook her head. "So familiar...." she mused to herself. She was 
unaware that as she thought the tall brunette and the raven angel's gazes 
now became focused on her. When she returned to watching the ballroom 
dancers, the couple had disappeared amidst the blur of gowns and facades.
	The tension in the air around her was growing almost unbearable. 
Her entire body was aroused in excitement, a foreign passion arising within 
her. "No," she whispered, calming herself. "It's just from the magik of the 
dancers. It's not from me. It's not...from me."
	An opening formed and she ducked through, breaking past the 
masquerade in the centre of the expansive ballroom. The outer rings of the 
enormous room were devoted to candelit tables and guised couples holding 
hands, engaged in quiet whispers and kisses.
	For a split second she could have sworn she saw him seated at a 
table, leaning back in a chair, the third party as two masked lovers moved 
closer and kissed. But he vanished once more, a literal wraith in her eyes.
	Was she just chasing a ghost?
	Her eyes darted over to the bar following the curve of the 
ballroom, the long and polished, black marble countertop almost 
completely filled with stocks of wine glasses waiting to be filled. In behind 
were exqusitely-shaped vials and bottles with contents waiting to fill the 
empty wine glasses. The liquids inside glowed of crimson waters. Behind a 
clear part of the counter, the suited bartender enjoyed the masquerade.
	The bartender seemed to be the only one here who was like her: 
without a companion, without a lover. Without someone who she could 
kiss, feel the warmth of their skin against hers--
	She shook her head. "Baka," she muttered. "It's the dancers."
	But regardless, she was starting to feel herself panic. These 
sensations were new and she didn't like it. This was not a place for her to 
be. She didn't want to be here.
	So then why hadn't she left this masquerade? 
	And as she turned once more she found her answer. Her heart 
seemed to beat fiercely upon seeing him standing there at the base of the 
curving stairs. His face was hidden behind the guise of a living ocean. 
	It was the mask of many waters, somehow rippling and catching 
rays of moonlight atop the crests. He had possessed the ocean within this 
mask, and now it was existing in a realm all of its own creation. Down the 
left cheek were kanji characters in bold crimson, unwavering to the oceans 
behind them. They stated in silence: meikyu. 
	Labyrinth.
	The folds of his black suit and equally dark cloak seemed to ripple 
without the winds calling them. They sparkled and shone with a magik all 
of their own. Senses reacting to his garments, unlike any she had ever seen; 
she could feel the danger as if she could feel the lining.
	The wraith turned his head and for a moment stared out at the 
ocean waters beyond the rows of open arches. His vision returned to the 
masquerade, and he stepped into the thick of the ballroom dancers. He 
seemed to move with them all, gliding effortlessly and cutting through each 
dancing couple. With each step he drew closer to her, his eyes never 
leaving her.
	She felt herself being pulled in, walking into the bubbling heat of a 
hotspring. Eyes of piercing jade waters seemed flood around her body. Half 
of her wanted to back away, to escape. The rest took control and let her 
stay, wanting to be submerged into his eyes.
	Two steps from her was when he stopped. Fingers reached for his 
mask, and then pulled it apart from his face. With agonizing hesitation he 
slowly slid it aside to reveal one of those piercing jade eyes. But the rest of 
his face was hidden in the mask and the shadow cast with its angle.
	"Mizuno Ami," she heard him whisper. But his lips neither parted 
nor moved. He had spoken without saying a word. And she could see the 
corner of his lips curve into another smile. Dark, dangerous, and alluring.
	Her eyes widened at the sound of her name. Her heart beat faster, 
her body flooded with an incredible sensation. Breathing quickened, 
thoughts raced.
	"I know you," she said quietly. "I know you...."
	With one final step he came closer until they were almost cheek 
against cheek. His one hand never left the mask that still hid his face in 
shadows; the other hand reached for the end of his cloak and threw it 
around them both.
	She gasped as the night seemed to fall upon her, smooth like black 
silk yet as electric as a midnight kiss. And then she surrendered to the 
beckoning of her world.
	As the waking hours called her back, she could still see the 
silhouette of the familiar stranger watching her go. His exotic laughter 
somehow thrilled her spirit as it echoed past her.
	"Mizuno Ami...we shall meet again."


	Her eyes were open as the alarm clock in her bedroom sounded. 
December sunlight was trickling in through the curtains shrouding her 
bedroom window. She sat up in bed, stretching and then silencing the 
alarm.
	The curtains were drawn back and she squinted at the light pouring 
in. A row of birds were perched just on the edge of the sill, turning as they 
heard her stirring on the other side of the glass.
	Abruptly they all flew off in a brilliant fury of wings and feathers, a 
cloud of blue and white taking flight. Out beyond them was a sky plagued 
with scattered billows of grey clouds. Perhaps it would snow today. 
Perhaps tomorrow.
	It did not matter; snow was snow. Nothing like the sight of 
moonlight reflection off the rippling waves of an ocean. Carefully she 
placed her palm against the glass, staring out at the girl staring back in the 
reflection. She looked the same, as unchanged as always, yet there was 
something she could see within her eyes that was troubling.
	There was a desire. But a desire for what? 
	Forgotten images were but a brief blur as they flashed past her 
mind's eye. Colours, lights, laughter. Nothing else, except the confusion 
that one had when they awoke from a curious world within a curious 
slumber.
	"I had the strangest dream," she said quietly to herself. "But then 
why can't I remember it?"
	For days on end, now becoming two weeks, this had been the 
cycle. She would awaken with a tingling all over her body from the 
Dreamworld's magik, but could not recall the dream she had walked 
through.
	This was not the sensations she felt when the others...made love to 
their soulmates. She blushed at the thought, chiding herself. This was no 
time to be thinking about such thoughts; academics were her priority. To 
become a doctor meant dedication. Romance didn't matter...did it?
	She could hear the winds moan from the outside world; it was 
going to be tempestuous out today. Sighing, she lowered her hand from the 
windowpane.
	"Mizuno Ami," the winds whispered in a distant voice. Her eyes 
widened; from another time, maybe even another life, she knew that voice.
	She paused, staring out past her reflection, out towards the city of 
Tokyo. But there was nothing more than the winds she heard.
	"It must be my mind playing tricks on me," she muttered 
regretfully. Why now, when she had come so far through school and now 
into high school?
	She glanced at her calendar. "December fifth," she read. "Mako-
chan's birthday."
	A party had already been planned; no one could do the catering as 
good as the tall brunette, and no one wanted to spoil a potentially romantic 
moment between the tall brunette and the raven angel by walking in 
unexpectedly.
	That was in good time later today.
	But the time on her clock was passing by with surprising speed. It 
was indeed the weekend, but she still had priorities. And a place to be 
within a few hours from now. Moments in between could be taken to 
study, to forget this fluttering in her heart and soul.
	A chance to bury this excitement.
	She needed a bath to clear her mind.


	The clean waters rippled as she dipped in her fingers to test the 
temperature. It was warm, very warm indeed. Just what she needed to 
relax--along with a good book. Delving into her studies was the best way 
to forget about all that troubled her.
	With a gentle sigh, sunlight from the window coming down to 
result upon her form, she undid her robe and let it fall to the floor. Hair 
clipped up, a dry towel right beside the bathtub, she raised a foot and 
stepped into the waters.
	"Kimochi," she sighed aloud, settling into the tub. 
	The waters were soothing indeed.
	Adjusting her glasses she tried to concentrate on the words within 
the book. They told her of ancient civilizations and of complex equations 
that fascinated her, yet today she found her focus lost.
	Instead the sparkling waters of the tub captured her attention. She 
froze as something seemed to catch the rays of the morning sun in the 
ripples of her bath water: a mask...a face...two jade green eyes staring out 
at her.
	Another image flashed in front of her, of an enormous ballroom 
with masked dancers--something out of a dream. And not just any dream, 
but her dream, the dream the she was awaking to every morning now.
	"Baka," she scolded herself. "Dreams shouldn't be doing this to 
you."
	And yet she could not deny that this was no mere dream. She was 
walking within that world, a gift given only to a priveleged few like her 
friends. But where in the Dreamworld had she been as of recently?
	Once she had recalled nights filled with incredible memories that 
stirred her heart for days long after. Now the dreams she found herself in 
were forgotten with awakening. Could she have lost touch with the 
walking dreamers? Or was she wanting to forget about her visits to the 
Dreamworld? If that was the case, then something or someone must have 
really given her a reason for escaping.
	She sighed, forgetting about the book and leaning against the cool 
ceramic frame of the tub. The warm waters were lapping all around her 
skin. The book was closed and set aside, discarded.
	Her mind was starting to race in fevered pitch the more she thought 
about the Dreamworld, about dangerous eyes of jade. And the more she 
thought, the more memories she uncovered. It had been a masquerade ball, 
grand and like something out of the ancient Moon Kingdom.
	And the oceans: the ocean possessed within the mask of the young 
stranger. A mask marked by the labyrinth. Then there was the oceans out 
beyond the ballroom, seen between the rows of arches that curved around 
the grand palace. So much like the Sea of Serenity.
	She suddenly wanted to be there again more than anything else, to 
be swimming in the waters. No, not cool waters; a hotspring, someplace 
with steam and heated romance. Her breath quickened with the motions of 
the water. She barely even aware of what was taking on life.
	Her own magik gave her power over this elemental, and now it 
was responding to her silent commands. The bathwater started to steam, 
growing hotter now, curving up her body. Waves caressed her chest and 
shoulders, flowed through her legs and waist. It felt like a lover's touch, 
warm and arousing. Her breathing became flustered, her voice a mere 
whimper. The steam was starting to collect in droplets on her reading 
glasses, the lenses blurred.
	No longer content to simply sit, her hands started to move and 
caress with the waters, fingers tracing every contour of her body. Far away 
in some recess at the back of her mind, she could hear a whispered plea to 
stop. But it was only a dying voice, and the pounding of her heart drowned 
out the whisper.
	Her skin tingled incredibly, warm water rushing past her and 
flowing all around her. She seemed to melt under a liquid caress that 
touched her lips, her breasts, her thighs. She moaned softly, more urgently. 
Something was building up inside of her, electric energy causing her entire 
body to shiver in desire. Holding it back was growing more difficult as the 
water seemed to wrap around her with a bubbling kiss.
	The floodgates broke, and a surge of exhilaration flowed through 
her entire body, radiating out and touching every last nerve. Her legs flexed 
and trembled, mind lost within the rapture. Everything came to life within 
her, and for a moment that enigmatic ocean mask was lost to the host of 
the masquerade.
	"Me...i...kyu," she whispered, her eyes half closed. 
	Something inside of her snapped as she spoke his name. And she 
snapped out of her reverie, the dream coming to a crashing halt. She sat up 
in the tub, the water now glistening from her body while her body now 
glistened from the water. She trembled, though the emotions were opposite 
to what they were moments ago.
	She suddenly felt uncertain, changed in some way. This was all too 
foreign, all too new to her. All too dangerous. What would the others think 
if they knew? She felt alone in the vast world of the waking hours, naked 
and wet and frightened.
	What was happening to her?
	Why was she feeling this way?
	"Baka," she whispered, on the verge of tears. "Baka. Baka! 
BAKA!!"


	There was a chill in the sweeping winds today, the air growing 
colder into the winter season. Soon it would snow, the ambience giving 
way to cuddling next to a roaring fire with the one you loved. She shook 
her head, brushing the thought aside. She had no time for that. And what's 
more, she resignedly and cautiously admitted, she had no one to sit next to 
before that roaring fire.
	A part of her was still trembling over the morning's bath. She had 
been so overcome that it frightened her. But what else could be done? 
Once again the feelings were buried deep within her heart. That had been a 
moment of weakness. Never again would she let that happen.
	She would not feel so alone again.
	She would not let anyone in.
	"Ami-chan?" a concerned voice asked. "Daijobu?"
	Abruptly she returned to the Shinto shrine, and the room beneath 
the roofs of its buildings. 
	"Ami-chan?" the odango-haired blonde pressed again, seated next 
to the dark-haired prince.
	She nodded, hiding her real emotions. It was safer this way. Safer 
for them and safer for her.
	"Ne, where's Sora?" asked the long-haired blonde. "He's not 
usually late."
	"Sora's always concerned whether or not he's getting the right gift," 
the raven knight said with a wry grin. "You never want to go shopping 
with him. He's even worse than Minako-chan."
	Kishi got elbowed in the side for that.
	They all were gathered together around the low-standing table save 
the raven angel, who was soon to arrive with the tall brunette's present. 
The guest of honour remained in behind the stack of wrapped boxes, 
smiling at them all. A place next to her was reserved for Sora.
	The odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired prince were on the 
couch, one leaning against the other. In front of them, kneeling before the 
table, were the long-haired blonde and the raven knight. Directly across the 
table from the tall brunette were the dark-haired shrine girl and the shrine 
protege, hands clasped on the tabletop.	
	She was the only one feeling left out of place, one side devoted to 
her and her alone. No friends, no companions, no lover. The tension right 
then seemed more intense, and the memories of the morning came back.
	Her blue eyes darted over to the fusama as it quietly slid open and 
the latecomer slipped through. "Do you know what day it is?" the raven 
angel whispered into the tall brunette's ear. 
	The young woman gave a smug grin. "A day like any other day, 
Sora-chan."
	"Not just a mere day," Sora answered. "This is the day I celebrate 
life reborn to me, captured in your eyes."
	With a gentle hand he placed a small box wrapped in an emerald 
bow in the tall brunette's lap. "For you, Mako-chan. Don't open it until 
later."
	"Oh come on!" the long-haired blonde said. "Anticipating death 
always leads to worse stomach ulcers!"
	"That's 'anticipation of death is far worse that death itself', Milady," 
the raven knight corrected with a weary sigh. "Have you ever gotten a 
quote right in your entire life?"
	"Kishi!" The long-haired blonde playfully jabbed Kishi's side with 
an elbow again.
	"This is borderline abuse, you know," the raven knight said with a 
smirk.
	"Come on!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed. "Open it, Mako-
chan! Maybe it's food! Maybe it's chocolates!"
	"The present is for Mako-chan, Usagi--not for you," the dark-
haired shrine girl stated. "Baka."
	"Don't be so mean, Rei-chan!" the odango-haired blonde pouted.
	She smiled as she watched all her friends excitedly talk with each 
other. For so long she had been alone, without friends. But ever since she 
had met the odango-haired blonde everything had changed. That had been 
the day she discovered her destiny as a longlost soldier. But what had that 
magik given her recently? Only questions in dreams and hesitation in 
awakening.
	"Why not open it now?" the tall brunette exclaimed, starting with 
the bow.
	"Mako-chan," the raven angel cautioned, beautiful face starting to 
blush.
	"It's not going to hurt if we see it now, will it?" the tall brunette 
remarked.
	Sora cast an uneasy glance at them all. "Ano...."
	With a final tug on the bow, the tall brunette flipped open the lid 
and stared down at the gift inside, eyes widening and cheeks turning a 
bright red. "I can't show this to my friends!" the tall brunette exclaimed 
amidst a fit of nervous giggles and laughter.
	"Let me see! Let me see!" the long-haired blonde said, leaning over 
and plucking the gift from its box. The long-haired blonde's jaw dropped as 
they all stared at the piece of dark and provocative negligee.
	Everyone's eyes seemed to become wider.
	"S-sugoi," the odango-haired blonde managed to stammer out.
	"Interesting," Kishi remarked, looking to the raven angel. "I never 
would have expected you to be so risque, Sorata." Sora shot Kishi a dark 
glare. The raven knight nudged the long-haired blonde. "Remind you of 
any recent birthday presents, Milady?"
	The long-haired blonde blushed and giggled nervously. "Urusai, Ki-
chan!"
	She could feel her entire body start to heat up, growing flushed 
with shy embarrassment. The waters of the bath seemed to pale in 
comparison now, and for a moment she accepted what she had done. 
Maybe even liked it. Maybe even wanted to experience it again....
	The black form of the negilee caught the dying sunlight, and flashed 
in her eyes. And in that moment she suddenly caught sight of the silhouette 
of a masked stranger, a black tuxedo and cloak fluttering with the folds of 
negligee.
	She blinked, turning away. No, it was only a dream. Nothing more, 
and thus nothing more to think about. The bath had been one thing; the 
dream was altogether different. One had not come out of the other.
	"Sorry we're late, little girls," came a new voice.
	They all turned as a pair of young yet mature women walked 
through the open sliding partition, one with sandy-blonde hair, the other 
with long, wavy aqua-green hair.
	"Haruka-san! Michiru-san!" the tall brunette exclaimed, a smile 
growing with the sight of the two women.
	"I see someone has taste in their presents," the tall, sandy-blonde 
remarked with a wicked grin upon seeing the negligee.
	"When was the last time you got something like that for me?" the 
aqua-haired woman replied playfully.
	Both Sora and the tall brunette turned new shades of pink, the tall 
brunette stuffing the negligee back into its box. "A little later tonight, Sora-
chan," the tall brunette quickly whispered afterwards.
	And the celebration of eighteen years lived by the tall brunette 
began. The last one of them to turn this age and yet the first one of them to 
experience the wonders of the Dreamworld. 
	She moved over as the tall, sandy blonde and the aqua-haired 
woman sat down next to her in front of the table. She found herself looking 
at the couples around the room. The only single girl there, she felt more left 
out now than ever before.
	As always, the conversations turned to romance and boyfriends--
something she always found herself blushing shyly through. Except now it 
was ever moreso awkward; everyone else had a boyfriend. Granted Haruka 
and Michiru were unique, but Haruka was tomboyish enough to be seen as 
a guy. They all had mistaken the tall, sandy-blonde for a boy in their first 
encounter.
	"What about you, Ami-chan?" the long-haired blonde inquired. 
"You're the last one here to get a boyfriend."
	"Didn't you promise yourself to find a guy once you got into high 
school?" the tall brunette teased.
	She found herself blushing furiously. "I--er, that is...." she stuttered. 
Shimatta; of all the times for her mind to suddenly shut down. 
	"I'm surprised you haven't met someone in the Dreamworld yet," 
the aqua-haired woman remarked. "That seems to be the trend with you 
girls here."
	The masquerade dancer: that young man in black. Her eyes 
widened as his image seemed to catch her vision from a shadow, once 
again only half his face revealed as his head turned towards her. Such a 
dangerous smile he wore.
	She quickly shook her head at the question. "Iie. No one in the 
Dreamworld," she lied. But was she really lying?
	She noted how everyone was slightly dejected at her answer. The 
odango-haired blonde seemed a little more disappointed than the others, 
sighing in exasperation.
	"What are we going to do with you, Ami-chan?" the dark-haired 
shrine girl said.
	The tall sandy-blonde whispered something into the aqua-haired 
woman's ear, which elicited a demure chuckle in response. "Ara, Haruka, if 
you so insist."
	"What?" the shrine protege inquired. 
	"I'll tell you later," the aqua-haired woman replied with a smile. 
"When we tango."
	She glanced around the room as everyone seemed to share a 
knowing expression. If she wasn't so preoccupied with her own dreams, 
she might have understood that something was going on behind her back.
	But all she could find herself drifting to were thoughts of a living 
ocean trapped within a mask, and an enigmatic wraith who drifted between 
dancers in a grand ballroom. But his name--what was it?
	She had uttered it once, in the afterglow.
	If only she could remember....


	Music played on in the background, a raging symphony for the 
dancers. Yet while she was moved by the music, she did not move with it. 
This still did not seem to be her place.
	She found herself once more walking down those curving stairs 
that led into the grand masquerade, continuing its midnight rampage while 
beyond it the waves of the ocean still rolled past. The sparkling silver 
caught moonbeams everywhere she turned. Dancers were swirling about in 
a feverous pace tonight, laughing and revelling in their celebration. 
	Folds of deep ocean and shimmering crystal blue rustled with each 
step she took. Her eyes wer searching once more for a familiar stranger. All 
she found were couples.
	A young female dancer with long dark hair stared up at a young 
man. Just like all the others, they were masked: the dark-haired one 
wearing facepaint of raging flames down one cheek that somehow merged 
into a mask hiding violet eyes, the young man wearing a shining golden 
eyemask almost hidden by long bangs of brown hair. They were both 
deeply absorbed with each other.
	"Yuichiro," she thought she heard the dark-haired girl whisper to 
the young man, yet with all the laughter and the dim of the masquerade she 
couldn't be even remotely certain.
	She turned away, her eyes looking for someone else. She never 
saw the dancers slowly turn her way and smile before being swallowed up 
by the other people.
	"Where are you?" she whispered quietly. By this time she had 
usually caught at least a single glimpse of the strange wraith.
	And then she saw the rippling ocean waters trapped within a mask, 
bearing the kanji for labyrinth. Long strands of earthen brown hair trailed 
around the mask, and within the waves she could see two jade eyes staring 
back.
	Her heartbeat quickened, startling if not frightening her. 
	"He must know how I can get out," she whispered, trying to calm 
herself. This was strictly professional, one dreamer to another. It had 
nothing to do with...with his eyes.
	That familiar sensation started to creep through her body, warm 
like the steam rising up from a hotspring on a cool night. She held her 
breath, trying to calm the fierce beating of her heart.
	And then he was gone, a stare and smile in her direction before a 
twirling couple passed between them. It was only for a second, but it was 
all he required, for he was gone once more. She pushed through the thick 
of the dancers until she came out from the masquerade and found not a 
trace of him.
	She sighed, stepping back. Hands reached behind and found 
something solid; she had walked into the counter of the bar.
	"Something for the lady, perhaps?" a voice inquired.
	She looked up and saw the bartender standing before her: a young 
man, tall and dressed in a dark suit jacket and white shirt, shades hiding his 
own eyes.
	"No, thank you," she said politely. 
	The bartender grinned. "Didn't think you were the kind to drink, 
anyways," he remarked, raising a personal glass of red wine to her. 
"However, alcohol is not the only thing served here. If you're thirsty, just 
make a request."
	She noticed that there was something visibly different, setting the 
bartender apart from the others in the masquerade. Not his duty, but his 
face--and the fact that she could see it.
	"Where is your mask?" she asked.
	The young man sipped the wine. "I am my own mask, if you will 
permit me to be so cryptic. But since I'm only behind the bar, I don't really 
need as fancy a charade as the others. My shades do the task nicely. What 
about you?"
	She blinked. "Excuse me?"
	"You're also without a mask. What are you here for then, if not to 
dance in the masquerade?"
	She could feel herself getting flustered. Dancing was not on her 
mind, and this place was not for her. So then why had she come at all?
	"I...I'm looking for someone," she answered.
	Her eyes darted to the dancers in the central area, and once more 
she caught sight of the elusive wraith, that dark suit and cloak passing 
between masqueraders.
	She pushed away from the bar, moving towards the parading 
ballroom dancers. She had to see him again, to try to find the face behind 
the mask, and the eyes that she so longed to gaze into.
	So fierce was her determination that she never even noticed the 
soul she was searching for walk up to the bar not two steps behind her. 
With a smile he watched her move around the ballroom dancers, and then 
cut through the thick of the crowd.
	"I hope you find what you're looking for, Ami-chan," the Wanderer 
said quietly, crystal blue eyes behind the shades glancing over to the dark-
haired shrine girl. With a sigh, the bartender returned to the duties behind 
the counter.
	She still continued in her search, and once again saw a glistening 
tuxedo and cloak of darkness ripple, moving in behind a pillar. And then 
there was a shadow walking beneath an archway that led into an 
antechamber.
	Something deep down begged her to remain inside the ballroom; as 
dangerous as it was, this grand palace was far more safer than in the 
corridors of whatever was built along with it. But she found herself unable 
to stay. A strange fluttering of her heart and soul seemed to lead her 
forward.
	The archway soon was behind instead of before her, and she found 
herself walking through grand corridors of more arches and balconies that 
overlooked the ocean waters. Here it was quieter, not as rowdy as the 
celebration within the ballroom. Couples were talking softly to one another 
and sharing moments of passion and intimacy through whispers, kisses and 
laughter.
	Large bubbling fountains ran down the middle of the corridor, 
adding to the atmosphere of this newfound place. She caught a glimpse of 
living oceans at the corner, disappearing behind the fountain spout. 
	Another couple were seated next to the fountain, just on the stone's 
edge. The young lady was leaning back, hand tracing ripples in the crystal 
blue waters, eyes hidden beneath an eyemask that glittered like a thousand 
stars in a midnight sky. Tresses of long blonde hair flowed out past the 
mask. A smile came to the long-haired blonde's face as a small, sandy-
coloured dragon hopped onto the folds of the sparkling night dress.
	"Suna!" the young man said, shooing the playful creature aside. 
"Let her be for the moment. You will have plenty of time to frolick with 
Milady later."
	The young man, dressed in black robes and crimson cloak, wearing 
a mask that resembled the grey, sloping skull of a dragon or some other 
large reptile or beast, clasped hands with the long-haired blonde.
	She turned away as the two passionately kissed. She could feel her 
own cheeks flush, her body starting to tingle once more. What was this 
feeling, and why did it suddenly have to start now? Her rationale faultered 
for a moment; she knew this feeling, of when her friends and their 
Dreamworld lovers were sharing magik.
	Why now of all times?
	She felt too vulnerable here within this palace at the edge of the 
ocean, with lovers and dancers and facades all spinning around her. Her 
breathing became erratic out of fear and arousal; she had to get out, but 
was unsure how to escape this Dreamworld itself. 
	The folds of her dress billowed out around her as she turned in 
every direction, trying to to panic and not succeeding very well. And then 
her vision found an arched doorway that led away from both the corridor 
and the masquerade. She ran for it, though not swiftly due to her dress.
	The archway opened up to a case of descending stairs, which she 
followed. Another room opened up and she found herself staring at an 
ocean closer now than before. She couldn't help but smile at the peace she 
found while staring at the waves. There was another set of descending 
stairs and again she followed them.
	She reached the end of halls and rooms with ceilings and walls. 
Now she found herself with an open sky over her head. Slowly she turned 
and saw the palace towering above her, glistening silver stones flawlessly 
woven together to form walls and rooms and towers and balconies. The 
face of the rock resembled sloping cliffs and she was unable to tell if the 
castle had been built around them, or if the rocks had been built around the 
palace. 
	The courtyard where she stood was empty save for her. 
Glimmering cobblestones were beneath her feet as beautifully carved 
railings curved around the edge of the world. She walked over to the 
railing and peered over the side.
	Her sight was met with air and below that water; this entire place 
was floating, hovering over the ocean's surface. "Sugoi," she found herself 
whispering.
	"Do you wish to leave this place?" asked a strange voice.
	She whirled, startled. But it came from below, where at the base of 
curving stairs a small trimaran was moored to a narrow platform in the 
water.
	"Do you wish to leave this palace?" the boatman asked again, 
looking up. And yet she could not see his face or eyes, for they were 
hidden beneath a dark, hooded robe.
	The tides of passion swept through her body again; another pair of 
lovers were together now in full magik. If she remained here any longer, 
she didn't know what might happen.
	Her blue eyes focused on the boatman and she nodded. 
	She moved down the small staircase, watching the rock slowly tilt 
downwards until it was but a few inches above the lapping waves of the 
ocean. The boatman reached out a hand and helped her onto the first hull 
of the trimaran, instructing her to sit wherever she wanted as he untied the 
boat from its moorings. She chose the far left tarpaulin, sitting down atop 
the netted canvas and drawing her knees to her breasts. The boatman kept 
to the stern of the trimeran, and with a wave of his hand the sails suddenly 
came to life and the vessel was off.
	The night was blue if not a violet that resembled shades of black. A 
cloudless night save the few vapour mists lazily trailing past the brilliant full 
moon. Its glow was almost too bright to look at, the dark spots readily 
visible to the naked eye. From here she could see the shadow of the rabbit.
	That was once the odango-haired blonde's homeworld. Once a 
long time ago, in another life. She couldn't help but smile as the feelings left 
her, and she felt at peace with this ocean world. 
	A glance back confirmed that the palace and its rock foundation 
were indeed floating over the water's surface, drifting almost like a petal in 
the wind. Yet already it was but a shadow in the distance, the trimaran 
making incredible speed but without a furious tempest at her face.
	This had to be magik.
	"Not many souls have come my way and asked to leave the 
Moonlight Masquerade," she heard the boatman remark. There was 
something vaguely familiar about his voice. "Why would you wish to sail 
across the Ocean of the Silver Orchids?"
	For a time she simply watched the moonlight reflecting off the 
ripples of waves. And then she found herself making a response. "It...isn't 
where I should be," she answered. "That ballroom, those people; I feel as 
if I am placing myself in danger when I find myself there."
	The boatman manipulated some of the ropes and the unique wheel 
to change the sails, the boom swinging high over her head to the other side 
of the trimaran. "If danger frightens you," the boatman said. "then do not 
push it. Keep away until you are certain it holds no fear over you. Don't go 
back."
	She looked back at the ancient castle floating above the waves, 
now just a silhouette in the distance. "But I have to return," she said, 
shaking her head. "I just have to."
	"Then what is holding you back?" the boatman asked. "Is it really 
danger you're frightened of? Or the danger of love?"
	"I don't know," she said finally. "I don't know...."
	She closed her eyes as the evening breeze flowed past her, not cold 
enough to chill but cool enough to refresh and envigorate. This was her 
place to be: alone and amidst the waves of the water. Strangely enough, 
there was no salty aroma to the ocean: it smelled of cold springwater that 
had come from a crashing waterfall.
	Abruptly something broke through the surface in a wave of 
crashing white foam, pushing out from the ocean depths as droplets of 
water gleamed off its sleek, silver body.
	Her eyes widened in pure joy as she watched the dolphin frolick 
before her, the waterborne swimmer squeaking as it cut through the waves 
and dove beneath her. Another dolphin emerged with a response, throwing 
itself high into the air.
	The dolphin was so close that if she reached out over the edge of 
the trimaran she could touch its sleek skin. But she resisted, too captivated 
to watch. An entire pod soon emerged, dolphin upon dolphin leaping 
gracefully through air and water. They were before and beside the trimaran, 
acting like a royal envoy.
	All her tensions were forgotten in that moment; all the fears, 
hesitations and guilt were lost in the wonder of the magik surrounding her. 
And it was then that she heard the melody of a flute, delicate like a crystal 
to produce music that possessed the very winds of the skies. One breath 
gave life to a note that echoed across the open ocean waters, taken up by a 
chorus of dolphins.
	A soft and beautifully haunting song was lifted up to the skies and 
the stars they kept. Her own heart seemed to soar with these dolphins, and 
the longing burned more now than ever before. Such an incredible magik 
was here; her cheeks grew flushed as her body created its own warmth.
	Slowly she turned to search for the source of the flute's music. And 
this source was the boatman of the trimaran. The winds arose, blowing at 
the edges of the hood yet unable to push it back and reveal the boatman. 
Most of his face was conspired to remain hidden behind shadows and 
fabric, and by long strands of earthen brown hair.
	"Sayonara, Mizuno Ami."
	Her eyes widened, the strange familiarity of the voice becoming all 
too clear. Only when the boatman had said her name did she recognize it.
	"You!" she called out, turning around.
	But the moment she turned, moonlight ripples on the water became 
blurred, and then brilliant. Suddenly she found herself turning within the 
masquerade dance. Her heart was still beating fiercely, her body warm and 
tingling.
	The was all so incredible, and at the same all too frightening for 
her. "What is your name?" she whispered quietly, trembling. "What is your 
name?"
	"You know it already," came a whisper in answer. "You have just 
chosen to forget it."
	She whirled, and saw a flash of billowing night cloak disappear into 
the shadows of an alcove. A living ocean spilled out from the darkness, 
amidst the water two jade eyes piercing the waves. She felt herself 
drowning in his gaze, overcome with feelings she had tried to keep buried 
deep down.
	Her breasts seemed taut against the folds of her dress as then a 
word formed on her lips, and she remembered what for so long she had 
been trying to forget.
	"Meikyu...."


	Slowly her eyes opened, and she smiled at the warmth of her bed 
with December sunlight trickling in. Today was one more day where 
school--or crams schools, for that matter--was not a necessity to attend. 
Yet even if it had been such a day, thoughts of academics had left her mind; 
all she could think about was that floating palace over a deep blue ocean.
	"What an incredible dream," she murmured to herself.
	She was still coming out of exotic estacy and had yet to realize that 
for the first time in nights and dreams, she had been a part of the waking 
dreamers. No longer would nor could she forget. The rush of the winds 
past her with the pod of dolphins gracefully leaping about. That haunting 
melody of a crystal flute, and those jade green eyes.
	Her hand slipped in between the fabric of her nightgown, nimbly 
undoing the button holding the two edges together. Fingers caressed and 
gently ran down her chest, tracing her breasts. The result gave way to both 
hands moving beneath fabric, alive with the brushing against skin and 
electric nerves.
	"I shouldn't be doing this," she whispered through clenched teeth 
and closed eyes. "This is wrong."
	It felt foreign, uncertain...dangerous. Deliciously dangerous 
though, and for all the thoughts telling her to pull back she found that she 
could only push forward.
	Her movements, her explorations became more frantic, and nothing 
else seemed to matter. She was alive, on fire, a powerful warmth radiating 
out from the core of her body. And then with a last, single touch she lost 
control. She gasped, carried away by a flood of whirlwind sensations and 
explosions that sent her body quivering. Eyes half open or perhaps half 
closed, she turned her head and stared at the far wall of her bedroom.
	A shadow seemed alive there, standing tall as a silhouette. And 
there she could see a guise of living ocean waters and crimson kanji.
	"Meikyu," she whispered, but was so lost in the afterglow she 
forgot everything, even that she had spoken a name. His name, the name of 
a master of the masquerades.


	It may not have been a day regularly devoted to the routine of 
studies, but she still was in the habit of keeping her mind sharp. Declining 
from another gathering of lovers and dreamers, she had adjourned to the 
national library in the hopes of keeping ahead.
	The morning's event left her without guilt or uneasiness. Those 
tides had long since ebbed, and now there was a strange anticipation of 
dreaming tonight. Yet a part of her still broke fantasy down with hard 
reality.
	How much of this Dreamworld did she truly understand? The 
masquerade wraith was always close but never near, and she had yet to see 
his face fully revealed. There was something dark about the way he smiled, 
about the piercing gaze within his jade eyes.
	These questions still dogged her, and there was the ever-present 
discomfort in being the only one without a boyfriend while in the company 
of her friends.
	She glanced over as she saw a children's reading group assembling 
nearby. A young man, his face at an angle away from her, seemed to be the 
leader. The children all seated themselves around the young man, readily 
excited enough to keep quiet save a few whispers.
	"I have a story to tell you, children. Within our dreams is a world 
of pure fantasy and magik, where the ancient dragons still roam and angels 
fly on raven wings. Here exist tales of love and honour. One such tale is of 
an ocean realm, connected with the legends that there used to be a 
kingdom established on Earth's moon."
	More people were turning around to listen in on the story being 
told. Even she seemed caught up; no matter how focused she tried to keep 
herself, the young man's words pulled her into the realm he was weaving. 
She decided not to turn and look, but to listen as if she were still reading 
her own books.
	He continued: "In this world it was believed that each planet used 
to be a paradise like Earth, and that each planet had a royal family. The 
ruler of the solar system was a queen who lived on the once then beautiful 
moon. One of these planetary queens, a princess at the time, walked into 
this realm of waking dreams. She was of the royal family of Mercury." 
	'She'?
	She nearly dropped the book in her hands, stunned. That was her 
family, her royal blood. And this entire story sounded like it came out from 
the Dreamworld. What could it mean? Bangs of blue hair flowed together 
as she turned her head, joining the other listeners. The young man still had 
his back to her, and continued to tell the story.
	"This princess found and fell in love with one of the raven angels 
guarding this Dreamworld. But they were doomed to never be together 
unless she dreamed. They never did stop loving each other despite this, 
even when she found a king and raised a family.
	"She died in her sleep, and in her final dream she visited the raven 
angel one last time. She brought with her a single blossoming silver orchid, 
a legendary flower with silver petals tipped crystal blue, said to be only 
grown in the Imperial Palace upon the moon. When her tears struck the 
orchid, the angel used his magik to preserve the beauty of their love 
forever. 
	"It became an ocean. And nothing, not even the creatures of 
darkness lurking within our dreams, can try to conquer its magik. Now 
after thousands of years he has found his true princess, and his devotion is 
for her and her alone. Look carefully in your dreams, and you might see 
him dancing in a palace above the ocean waves, searching for his newfound 
soulmate."
	Her heart suddenly jumped inside her chest, her cheeks growing 
flushed as a strange warmth seemed to flood through her body. Yet this 
could not have been from her past life; the princess here had become a 
queen and died peacefully. She had been killed in defending princess 
Serenity from the Dark Kingdom, dying a violent and sudden death.
	No, this had to be an ancestor.
	There was awed silence, everyone hushed as they felt something 
pull at their very souls. A potent magik was seeping into the library, and 
kept its hold even as the children quietly stood and filtered out.
	She pushed her chair back and stood, eyes searching for the weaver 
of this tale. Yet all she could catch were fleeting bangs of long, earthen 
brown hair that were suddenly swallowed up by moving people. A single 
person came between them for a moment, and in that moment the reader 
had vanished.
	None the less she walked over to the place where he had read to 
the children. All that was left behind was a small, leatherbound book. On 
the cover was a nothing but a name and a title.
	Meikyu.
	The title read "Eternal Masquerade".


	The book was taken home with her that day, and while she dared 
not open the cover, the literature remained on the desk within her 
bedroom. Her mind was clouded over with thoughts turning against 
thoughts.
	Her heart was pleading to be heard over her fears.
	The hour was growing late, and the next day would give way into a 
rebirth of the weekly school routine. Yet she stayed awake, hoping to 
somehow avoid being sucked into the masquerade once more. A 
confrontation with the masquerade wraith, with Meikyu, might lead to 
something else out of her control.
	She blushed at the memory of the morning, of just waking up to a 
pleasurable warmth that led to...well, it led to the exact feelings she got 
when her friends made love. But it wasn't so bad, was it?
	Her hand instinctively moved for her breasts, and the exotic 
ceremony began anew. She moaned softly, falling backwards on the bed as 
her body was flooded with electric estacy. When she reached the climax, 
she stifled a sharp cry, her legs flexing off the covers of her bed.
	Exhausted from both the pleasure and the late hour, she was unable 
to resist any longer. Her eyes closed, and she slipped back into the realm of 
the waking dreamers. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew he 
would be waiting for her...and a part of her hoped to find him again.


	The symphony of night was still in full crescendo as she gracefully 
stepped down the curving staircase, her blue eyes searching out for her 
wraith. A cloak rippled from behind a set of twirling masqueraders.
	Sidestepping the thick of the ballroom dancers, she worked her 
way around the outermost ring of the entire grand room. She passed by the 
bar, unaware that she was being watched by others in the masquerade. A 
tall sandy-blonde who looked almost like a young man leaned against the 
bar, sided by a stunningly beautiful woman with wavy, aqua-green hair, 
smiled as they watched her pass.
	"Ne, you ever get the feeling that she's seriously trying to delude 
herself about how she feels?" the tall sandy-blonde remarked, taking a sip 
of the wine.
	The woman with the aqua-green hair smiled. "After night upon 
night of this same game, you would ask such an obvious question, 
Haruka?"
	"With one so delicate as her, she needs to be the one to approach 
him," the bartender said, brushing aside some strands of shining blonde hair 
as he leaned in between them on the counter. "And I think he's grown 
rather fond of being chased like this. Hunter and hunted, so to speak."
	She remained oblivious to their words, however. The fleeting 
shadow of her host was nowhere to be seen or even glimpsed. Perhaps he 
was late in coming. Or else he was waiting in another place.
	Then she caught sight of a figure in black moving beneath the 
archway that led into the fountain corridor. She pursued, certain that the 
wraith she was following held a mask of living oceans. But as she 
disappeared beneath the archway, a young man dressed in a dark tuxedo 
looked up from a table for two he was sitting at. 
	A hand reached for the true guise of rippling waves, lowering it 
from part of his face. "Now where does she think she's going?" he mused, 
raising his glass of wine and downing the remainder of the drink. The mask 
went back onto the face, and he moved to follow her.


	For how long she walked she was unsure, though she was certain 
that unless a guide showed up she was surely lost inside the floating palace. 
The familiar figure darted around a corner and she gave chase.
	Her breath and footsteps came to an abrupt halt as she stared at the 
corridor laid out before her. It may have been made like any other corridor 
inside the palace, but there was more in the magik she felt.
	The hallway was larger, adorned with pillars that stretched up to a 
sloping ceiling. Large glass panels allowed moon and starlight to shine 
down upon her. A fountain bubbled in the centre, fed from a channel of 
water and a waterfall from the highest platform. Various tropical plants 
were scattered across this atrium, and banners with the characters for 
labyrinth hung from various timbers and buttresses. 
	Indeed this corridor seemed just like all the others.
	But it was the gateway that caught her attention. Forming the only 
visible doorframe was a torii, but this gateway was not crimson but of 
blackest night. Shadows seemed to dart in and out from the frame, but 
faded before they made it a foot outside.
	"Come to us," a chorus of beautiful voices whispered.
	There was something drawing her closer, whispers she couldn't 
quite make out clearly. Enticing her with dreams and desires, they 
beckoned.
	A draft swept through the deserted hall, her gown rippling like 
cascades of a waterfall. She shivered, suddenly longing for a warm touch. 
Her wish was granted faster than she expected, a hand coming to rest upon 
her bare shoulder. 
	"I would be against venturing into such a realm," came a new voice 
from the silence, startling her.
	She whirled, her heart beating fiercely within her ribcage. In that 
moment she was overcome with adrenaline. The next moment as she saw 
the young man before her, she took everything back about longing for the 
warm touch of a lover.
	It...it wasn't what she really wanted. Just a momentary thought that 
would pass to never return. And then she realized that it hadn't passed, but 
returned with overpowering euphoria at the caress of his firm fingers 
against her tender skin. 
	The guise was gone from his face, a breathing ocean no longer his 
facade. Now she could see yet not see, for the shadows cast behind him 
cloaked half his face in darkness. The long strands of hair helped in the 
conspiracy, and now she was still uncertain to how he truly appeared.
	But his eyes were ever piercing, dark jade watching her with an 
enigmatic smile. 
	Her mind was nearly to a point of overload, conflicting emotions 
ready to tear her brain apart. He seemed so dangerous, yet at the same time 
she found herself unable to turn and run. Not after looking into his eyes.
	"You're trembling," he said, his fingers brushing away some of her 
light-blue hair away from her cheek. "Are you that frightened of me?"
	She vehemently shook her head, but her eyes gave the true 
emotions away. They remained fixated on his form.
	He smiled. "If I frighten you that much, then why have you 
returned night after night and dream after dream to this masquerade?"	
	"You brought me here," she responded, trying to voice authority.
	He chuckled, retreating from her a single step. "I only invite those 
who wish to be here," he stated. "Now ask yourself again: if you are so 
frightened of me, then why return at all?"
	She opened her mouth to give an answer, any answer. And then 
she faultered, memories of whispering his name returning to her. Her own 
body and mind were betraying her.
	He cast a glance around the corridor. "You should not be in here. 
This is not for maidens such as yourself. Here if you look for danger you 
will find it."
	"I--I found you," she stammered.
	His eyes seemed to light up as he reached into his jacket and 
produced the ocean mask. "How true, Ami-chan. So observant you 
are...I'm impressed."
	Her eyes darted down to the hand he extended, the light catching 
the glimmering fabric of his strange tuxedo. "Come," he said. "Let us dance 
together."
	Her breathing was coming in rapid gasps as she reached out for his 
hand, the feeling of such incredible warmth spreading through her body. He 
pressed in closer, taking her other hand and then standing as if to dance.
	He moved, leading her in a twirl. As she turned her head the room 
was suddenly the masquerade, and she was in amidst all the laughing and 
embracing dancers. Her eyes shifted up and gazed into piercing jade. 
	They danced together, her body wishing to press closer into his. 
She stopped herself mentally; this was neither the time nor the place. She 
hardly knew anything about him! She perhaps knew the young man's name 
and that was it.
	"Sumimasen," she said, trying to speak. "I--"
	"Shhhh," he whispered, placing a finger to her lips. "Don't speak. 
Dance."
	And so she danced with him through the symphony, entrapped and 
drowning in his jade eyes. So dark and alluring, seductively dangerous to 
look into. She felt herself trembling slightly under his gaze. They were 
drifting out to the outer ring of ballroom dancers, which she was thankful 
for. Her mind was having to fight a very aroused body for control.
	She was abruptly aware of a new presence within the masquerade. 
Her eyes darted over to something that emerged from an antechamber, or 
perhaps even from the very air.
	A long black cloak wrapped around its shoulders, draping over all 
its body yet not touching the floor. The fact that nothing else touched the 
ground gave way to this creature being in the essence of a ghost. The black 
cloak moved up into a hood that was draped over the ghost's head, tucked 
into the edges of a shining mask that resembled both new-fallen snow and 
polished pearl. Painted eyes and lips and other markings were outlined in 
black over the pale mask.
	There were no eyeholes, and still she could feel it's vision directed 
at her. Their dancing slowed and came to a stop as her wraith saw the 
newcomer.
	"Excuse me, please," he said, bowing to her.
	Words were never exchanged between him and the ghostly figure. 
Instead the ghost drew back and vanished as if passing through a wall of 
invisibility, and he sprang up from the floor, flying through the air until he 
landed upon the banister at the top of the curving staircase.
	A glance in her direction told her that he wished to be alone for the 
time. He had to do something, but what needed to be done within a 
Dreamworld? 
	She felt compelled to follow. 
	Fear came through the unknown, and the more she pulled down 
the enigma from his face, the less she had to fear. Perhaps then she could 
settle these conflicts with the emotions deep inside.
	Shadows caught the corners of her eyes, cloaks and suits almost 
gone around a corner, up beyond an archway or atop another floor. She 
was barely able to keep up with his pace; the young man moved as if he 
really was a wraith. The end finally came and she found herself once more 
in the atrium with the black torii.
	"What is he doing here?" she mused aloud to herself.
	He was no where in sight; her best guess was that he had stepped 
into the room beyond the gateway. But why would he need to go in there? 
The wraith himself had warned her to stay away from this place.
	And then an unearthly scream echoed from beyond the torii, one 
that burned into her mind and caused her to recoil in pure terror. For how 
long she stood near the torii, she would never know. Moments, minutes or 
eternities could have passed her by.
	Suddenly he stumbled out from the gateway, clutching his 
shoulder. Sweat was dripping from his face, soaked into his long strands of 
hair. The wraith grimaced as he struck the wall, pushing away from the 
stones and continuing his walk. He left behind a trail of crimson on the 
wall, and the mask of breathing ocean waters clattered to the floor.	
	"Meikyu!" she exclaimed, rushing to his aid.
	She tried to prop his left arm over her shoulders, that he might use 
her as a crutch. But he stumbled again, taking both of them down in a heap 
on the floor. He laughed as she fell on top of him, his face still partially 
hidden by hair and shadows.
	Puzzled eyes met his. "Daijobu?"
	He smiled. "Nothing that means death. Then again, to witness the 
edge of death is to experience the rush of pure life. But I thank you for 
your concerned sentiments."
	She found herself drowning inside his eyes, in that face still half 
covered by shadows. Her heart was pounding inside her chest. "Y-you're 
welcome," she managed to blurt out.
	"I thought I told you to stay in the ballroom," he remarked 
playfully.
	She laughed, shaking her head at him. "I didn't think you would try 
to get yourself killed."
	"Not while you are here with me, Ami-chan," he answered softly.
	She pushed away some of the hair on his cheeks, gasping at the 
revealed features. The shadows were slowly melting away now, his face 
becoming more clearer. Such a beautifully handsome face he had.
	Leaning forward, she gently pressed her lips against his. He made 
no resistance nor any advances. He simply let her kiss him, and they both 
felt the air crackle with exchange of magiks. Her own body was flooded 
with his touch.
	The same sensations that had flooded her when...when she had 
brought herself into estacy. That thought snapped her back into the atrium. 
She drew back, touching her lips. They still tingled as if his kiss was there. 
Her eyes widened as she felt herself blush in embarrassment. Why had she 
suddenly done this? She had been brazen and aggressive, something totally 
unlike her. She had forced her kiss upon him while he was weak and 
wounded!
	How could she face him?
	How could she face herself?
	"G-gomen," she whispered, and then raced down the corridor.
	Stifling a groan of both amusement and pain, the masquerade 
wraith propped himself against the wall. "You know what you're searching 
for, Mizuno Ami, but how much longer do we have to play like this until 
you accept it?"


	"Daijobu, Ami-chan?" came the odango-haired blonde's voice.
	She glanced up from the book left by the one called Meikyu. A day 
had passed by filled with lectures and lessons, but they had all seemed to 
fade away for her.
	She nodded, trying to hide whatever it was she was feeling. This 
bizarre fluttering of her heart, racing through her veins and clouding her 
mind. All she could think of were his piercing eyes, so alluring and 
dangerous. Oh, how she longed for that.
	She closed her legs tighter.
	"Ami-chan," the tall brunette said. "We know you too well. 
Something's running through your mind." The tall brunette gave a coy 
smile. "A boy, perhaps."
	"We could never be so fortunate for her," the dark-haired shrine 
girl muttered sadly. 
	It was just her and her friends inside the room now. The shrine 
protege had the duties of the Shinto temple, the raven angel and raven 
knight were out in another place, and the dark-haired prince had studies to 
attend to.
	There was no intimidation or a sense of distance. Here she was 
with friends; they must have gone through at one point in time what she 
was going through now. She wanted to ask them that they might 
understand--that she might understand herself--but forcing out the question 
came harder.
	"What is it?" the odango-haired blonde asked.
	The long-haired blonde grinned. "I knew it. Ami-chan's in love!"
	She blushed, laughing quietly and nervously. Her eyes darted from 
one girl to the next; there was no chance she could wiggle out of this one.
	"And you've been hiding it from us," the tall brunette chided. "For 
shame, Ami-chan. We thought you'd never get a boyfriend."
	This only elicited a deeper shade of embarrassed red across her 
already flushed cheeks. "He...he's from the Dreamworld," she finally 
managed to stammer out.
	"Aren't they all from there?" the long-haired blonde said with a 
dreamy smile. "So who is he? Is he cute?"
	"Of course he's cute, Minako-chan!" the odango-haired blonde 
exclaimed.
	"I...I think his name is Meikyu," she told them. "He's always hiding 
behind a mask that looks as if he trapped the oceans inside of it. But he's 
never once told me his name."
	Those thoughts returned to her: 'you remember, but you choose to 
forget'. Was it because she wasn't ready for love? Or was it that she was so 
shy and afraid about love?
	"His eyes," she said. "They were like piercing jade. I felt as if I was 
drowning in his gaze."
	"And what about his long hair?" the odango-haired blonde sighed.
	"Usagi!" the dark-haired shrine girl hissed, shooting the odango-
haired blonde a dirty look.
	She glanced at the fusama separating their room from the chillen 
outdoors, oblivious to their words. Once more she found herself longing 
for the masquerade ball and its host. He had told her that no one entered 
the palace unless they desired to--even in secret.
	The dark-haired shrine girl moved to open one of the sliding 
partitions a little more. A draft from the hallway swept into the room, 
forcefully lifting the cover of the top book on her pile. The pages were 
scattered and spilled out before her, moving with rapid succession until the 
tempest died and the pages stopped in their fury.
	And there before her was drawing of black ink with crimson 
markings. Standing out on the page was a young man dressed in a tuxedo, 
a long black cloak billowing out behind him. The rendering was incredibly 
lifelike, every last detail perfect in texture and appearance. 
	In his one hand the young man held a mask that bore familiar, 
crimson kanji. This mask captured half his face inside shadows, hiding it as 
his face had always been hidden to her. But his revealed eye: it was flashing 
of jade green. 
	This wasn't a part of the page. This was from magik.
	"Meikyu," she whispered.
	The labyrinth.
	An enigma.


	It was late in the moonlight hours as she glanced at herself in the 
mirror atop her vanity. Bangs of simmering blue hair dangled around the 
shape of her face, smooth and almost silken to the touch. She reached for 
the hairbrush and began to stroke it through those bangs.
	Her mind was still racing as she puzzled over all her senses had 
taken in. How well did she truly know this masquerade wraith? The raven 
knight had proven to once be a cruel demon; was Meikyu the same? Could 
she trust him with something as fragile as...as her love?
	"Baka," she chided herself, smiling uneasily. 
	It wasn't that she didn't love him. Yes, she felt attracted to him, but 
more as a mystery than a man. Nothing to do with his allure, his magik, or 
his eyes. Those jade eyes that seemed to pierce her soul, that swallowed 
her up in a cascade of liquid warmth causing her entire body to tingle.
	"Baka," she said again.
	And yet she couldn't stop the beating of her own heart, which was 
now beating faster at the thought of him. Her mind raced again, clouded 
over with memories of electrified skin on edge.
	She rubbed harder, faster, barely able to control her thoughts let 
alone her body. Sparks seemed to explode inside her mind, sending 
incredible shivers down her body that made her move all the more quicker. 
Suddenly she realized she was moaning and sighing, enhancing the feelings 
rippling through her. She had never heard her own voice like this before.
	And then he was there. Not physically but his presence seemed to 
be there with her. Magik that was not of her own gently blew past her in a 
draft from her open window, caressing her skin with a cool kiss of the 
wind. 
	She could hold back no longer; her moan became a stifled gasp as 
the wave of warm passion swept her body, mind and soul away. She had to 
clench her jaw shut to keep from crying out and waking her mother, her 
body shuddering violently, legs splayed apart. 
	For a long time afterwards she was breathing deeply, half aware of 
the world around her. Sweat glistened off her naked body as she stared up 
to the ceiling.
	"Baka," she whispered, closing her eyes and surrendering to a 
beautiful dream as her warm body lulled her into the estacy of passionate 
sleep.
	She was a fool for not seeing him sooner....


	Down the curved staircase she walked, eyes searching for the 
young man in the strange black garments and cloak, the one with the ocean 
waters as a mask. He was here somewhere, playfully jumping from one 
shadow to the next.
	But where amidst all these lovers was he?
	She glanced up at the railing to the second floor balcony. From 
there a long curved row of masked dancers watched the masquerade 
below, laughing and talking behind exotic facades.
	There was a separate balcony closer to the rows of arches on the 
far wall, set apart from the open landing. Stepping out from a series of 
doric archways was another couple, very much young and very much in 
love.
	The young man wore a dark tuxedo over a white dress shirt, a 
distinct white eyemask with sloping edges, and a tophat. White gloves 
tenderly held the elegant hands of a stunningly beautiful young girl. Long 
blonde hair flowed down around the girl's shimmering white folds of dress, 
strangely familiar odangos atop her head. 
	She watched as they cuddled in each other's arms, then leaning 
closer to kiss. Her own lips tingled, though she could not understand why. 
Intrigued she watched on, blushing and unable to tear her gaze away when 
the young woman pulled at the ends of the white gown.
	Her own breathing quickened and finally her eyes were torn away 
from the couple. Better to leave them alone than to become a voyeur. Her 
wandering gaze fixated on her reason for coming, her reason for the 
exploration of her own body.
	There he was, the masquerade wraith himself, standing at the top 
of the curving staircase looking down. The waters of his mask rippled 
underneath the glittering lights. He started down the stairs but paused 
halfway when he met with another couple, a tall sandy-blonde guy...or was 
it a woman behind the mask?...and a stunning woman with wavy aqua-
green hair.
	She steathily cut through the crowd, working her way to the far 
side of the ballroom dancers. Tonight he would need to be the one trying to 
catch a glimpse of her shadow. The idea thrilled her, sent her heart racing 
and her body glowing.
	Once more she caught sight of him between the dancers, still 
talking to that couple. Every one of them looked strangely familiar and yet 
she did not know how she recognized them. Another life perhaps? 
	She watched those eyes of jade brilliantly pierce the room from 
behind the mask and the long strangs of earthen brown hair. "Meikyu," she 
said quietly. "Who are you?" 
	Who was the soul behind the mask of the living ocean?
	"He's an assassin," came a voice behind her.
	She began to turn, surprised by another distinct voice in a sea of 
them that was not his. But firm hands gripped her shoulders, forcing her to 
look ahead.
	"Do not turn around," the voice hissed. "Do not let him think you 
know. His name is Meikyu, darkest of the raven angels. Our dreams are his 
trophies. He has deceived all those you have come to trust."
	"Who are you?" she asked, turning her head slightly. 
	Looking back at her was a dancer hidden behind a large face mask 
adorned as the grinning, shining skull of a large beast. "The souls of those 
doomed before you," the mask answered. "He seduced us and then trapped 
us inside the labyrinth, where we are unable to escape."
	She held her breath, every last foundation she had come to believe 
in over these last days being shaken. Why had she not listened to her own 
reason? This must have been the motive for such a dangerous smile he 
wore, for the reason she never seemed to be able to completely see his 
face.
	"Beware, young girl," the mask whispered. "Your dreams are the 
most beautiful of all here. You may be his next victim."
	Her eyes returned to the last place he had been, but now he was 
gone. To her far left she caught a flash of dark suit and billowing cloak. He 
was coming.
	She turned around, adrenaline starting to flood her system. The 
masked dancer was gone now; nothing was ever left to prove it had 
existed. The room was starting to blur around her, swirling with colours 
and masked faces laughing and embracing. Were they all doomed like her? 
Or were they all a part of his ruse?
	The strange black tuxedo darted between dancers on the far edge 
of the ballroom. He was closer now, and she was starting to panic. The 
shaded folds of her rippling blue gown looked like a hundred seas as she 
raced beneath an archway, the heels of her shoes clicking against the floor.
	Her pace came to an abrupt stop as she found herself in the 
fountain corridor, and it was deserted save her and one other figure, a mere 
silhouette. A ray of light seemed to glow to life, illuminating the standing 
shadow. There, perched on the edge of a rectangular fountain, was 
Meikyu. 
	She could see him smile, those piercing eyes going right into her 
soul. With a fury of ruffles and billows she spun around in the hopes of 
retreating back into the ballroom. The second her eyes looked back to the 
archway he was already standing beneath it.
	She froze, her breathing coming in rapid pants.
	Ever so slowly, taking his time, he closed the distance between 
them with footsteps that echoed across the empty corridor. The cloak 
fluttered all around him, starting to take on a breath of its own.
	"Something wrong?" he inquired. It seemed innocent, maybe even 
playful. But within his words she could hear the delight in knowing that she 
was scared.
	A part of her wanted to deny it, to shake her head. Instead she 
nodded, rationale once more managing to take control. She noted how his 
face seemed to delight in a secret unknown to her. In this moment he was 
all the more seductively terrifying. And yet she could not turn and flee, not 
after remembering his kiss. The kiss he had returned, the one she had 
initiated. She crawled up against the nearest wall, trying to bury herself into 
it.
	"Y-you're dangerous," she said.
	He laughed. "Oh, most certainly. To you most of all, Mizuno Ami. 
But for all the wrong reasons."
	"You...you're an assassin," she whispered, backed up as far as she 
could against the wall.
	He smiled, amused. "I'm one of many things, Lady Mercury. If you 
wish to call me by that title, who am I to protest? Though in truth I'm more 
a hunter than a killer for hire."
	"You've killed before?" she asked, feeling the adrenaline moving 
through her body like the crashing tides. This was not exhilaration; this 
time it was fear.
	He reached out with a hand, and she froze in watching it move 
closer to her face...and then press against the pillar beside her cheek. He 
leaned into her, his breath right next to her ears.
	"Not a creature in the Dreamworld can call themselves a soul with 
clean hands," he answered. "Even Silvermanes have shed blood. I, though, 
enjoy the thrill of the hunt."
	"Please," she said, on the verge of breakdown. "You're frightening 
me."
	His jade eyes seemed to lose their edge in that moment, glancing 
down to the floor. He withdrew from her, his face solemn. "If you wish to 
leave," he stated. "by my honour I will not interfere."
	He had given her the opening, and she seized it. She tried to run, 
and he let her scramble away from him. Yet there was no dark laughter at 
her or her situation. What seemed to fill the void was saddened silence...as 
if she could sense what he was feeling. Her pace slowed and she turned her 
head to look back.
	He was standing still, emotions hidden behind the mask of the 
living oceans. But there was a change in the mask; the waters were rippling 
not from the waves but from rainfall striking the surface.
	Her running slowed even more, her emotions conflicting with each 
other and waring against her thoughts. Was he truly this dangerous? Was 
the bone dancer merely of her own creation, her own fears?
	"Meikyu," she whispered.
	Suddenly her foot met with nothing and she tumbled forward with 
a startled cry. A black shadow opened up and swallowed her whole, the 
last image she saw was him, standing there and shouting out her name.
	"AMI!!"


	It was the most bizarre sensation she had ever felt before in her life. 
She was floating yet falling, the wind blowing back her hair and tresses of 
blue gown but not at a speed which might kill her upon impact.
	The black world around her grew lighter, small sparkles that 
resembled fireflies darting all around. The air grew deep purple and cloudy, 
and then she was falling amidst debris. Large chunks of what used to be 
staircases and archways and walls were lazily hovering all around her as she 
descended past them.
	Finally a room started to emerge, shades of dust and sand with 
intricate carvings lining everything. There appeared to be no true ceiling or 
floor as she found her feet touching solid surface. As gravity set in once 
more, she looked around and saw the hideously deformed extent of this 
realm.
	Stairs and arches were amok, sideways and upside-down and 
backwards. Each one seemed to slope a different angle yet perfectly 
intersecting with another. She could barely even tell which way was up; 
there were even stairs and passageways on the walls and the ceiling--
provided they were the true walls and ceiling.
	"Where...am I?" she exclaimed.
	The room was silent, her voice echoing across the stairs and 
doorways. But as her echoed voice died out, another took its place. One of 
unrushed footsteps.
	He was there in the chambers, perfectly attuned to whatever had 
warped its dimensions. Her eyes widened as slowly she tilted her head to 
stare up at him. The masquerade wraith smiled as he stretched out his arms 
to present himself, standing on an upside-down staircase. His hair, his suit 
and even his cloak all acted as if gravity were pushing invertedly.
	"Not bad, ne, Ami-chan?"
	With a swift leap he pushed off towards her, suddenly twisting 
around and descending. A perfect landing was made, and slowly he stood 
up before her.
	"This is what lays beyond the black torii; you can understand why I 
wished you to stay away from it." He held out his hand. "We should leave 
it now."
	She backed away. "How can I trust you?" she asked. 
	He smiled. "That's just it: you can't trust me. You can't trust 
anything in this place, not even yourself. Welcome to the labyrinth, where 
nothing could ever be as it seems. This is the true form of the masquerade."
	He had been toying with her all along! Her once fragile heart now 
burned with a desire for vengeance at this evil trick. "You wanted to lure 
me here," she said angrily, her fists shaking. "You want to steal my 
dreams."
	Now it was his turn to back away as with a flash of light and a loud 
shot she became the soldier of her bloodline.
	"The Sailor Senshi of Mercury," he stated, unfazed. "You look 
rather pretty in that battle fuku."
	"I won't forgive you for this!" she exclaimed, her voice rising. Her 
sudden hostility caused him to go on the defensive, his own powers starting 
to manifest in an aura.
	"Ami," he cautioned.
	A large vortex of water raged around her body, searching for a 
place to be directed at. "Mercury Aqua Rhapsody!" She launched her 
attack, the water becoming a foaming projectile that crashed towards 
Meikyu like a flood. 
	He held his ground, eyes suddenly flashing brilliant jade as her 
furious tidalwave bared down upon him. A hand reached up for the mask 
and tore it off from his face, unleashing a geyser of foaming water from 
beneath it. This new torrent tore apart her own watery magik and then 
went after her.
	She cried out as she was lifted off the floor, sent down a flight of 
stairs as the waters dried out, leaving her unharmed but drenched. She 
coughed and sputtered as she slowly picked herself up off the ground.
	He was sauntering down the steps. "Now I wonder who started 
that little rumour about me?" To her surprise, he did not attack but 
extended a helping hand. "I trust," he said. "that we can talk things out. 
They say that if you must resort to violence then you've already lost."
	This marked the second time he offered his hand in help and not in 
hostility. For all his dangerous ways, this masquerade wraith seemed 
genuine in his concern for her. She glanced around the warped labyrinth; in 
such an unfamiliar dimension, he held the advantage over her.
	"How can I trust you?" she pressed.
	"Search your heart," he answered. "If it tells you to take my hand 
then do so. If it tells you to strike without mercy, then do so. The choice 
has been yours from the beginning you set foot inside my realm, Mizuno 
Ami."
	She stared up at him; his face was still half masked by shadows that 
were nowhere else but on him. Those jade eyes were still seductively 
dangerous, the exact trait that had first drawn her to him. The memory of 
the bone dancer returned, and now she had doubts of everything she had 
thought was worked out.
	But a choice had to be made.
	And so she made her decision.
	Reaching out for his hand, she slowly got to her feet. "What is this 
place?" she asked uneasily.
	"Tell me," he said. "In the story you heard me speak back at the 
library, did you ever hear of a Shadowdemon reaching my realm?"
	She shook her head.
	He glanced around the twisted chamber. "Well now you know 
why. This labyrinth beneath my palace was designed to ensnare and trap 
any creature of darkness that managed to approach. I've lost count of how 
many there are lurking inside this maze. And needless to say most of them 
don't like me very much. They are those I live to kill."
	"Na ni?" she exclaimed. Her emotions were being thrown around 
again, and she found herself wishing to be the calm and detached genius 
she once was. If only she could bury her feelings deep inside; perhaps then 
she could make sense of all this.
	"The labyrinth is my hunting ground," he stated. "It is where I stalk 
and kill the Shadowdemons." A diabolical smile came across his face. "I 
live for the thrill of the hunt. That makes me all the more dangerous...all the 
more the only one who could safely come in after you, Ami-chan. I know 
the labyrinth's tricks."
	Abruptly he spun around, his stance being highly defensive towards 
her and aggressive at the chambers. Eyes narrowed and he paused in his 
breathing.
	"They're coming," he whispered.
	She gave him a quizzical look. "How do you know?"
	"My garments are of rare fabric," he said. "It senses their presence, 
and thus so do I. Call it a stolen sixth sense, but necessary if I wish to hunt 
within the labyrinth." He stepped forward, almost oblivious to her presence 
now. "I should have known something was up when I saw that damned 
bone mask in the ballroom. This one moves differently from the others, 
especially if it can pull others into the labyrinth." 
	He smiled. "Clever, aren't you? Come on; show me where you 
are."
	"Meikyu," she said urgently, pulling him back into the chambers.
	He turned. "Ami, things are about to get very nasty. I can't 
guarantee your safety if you remain in this realm poisoned with blak magik. 
You have to leave this place now." The masquerade wraith titled his head 
up to what might have been called up. "Yurei Knights!" he barked.
	Four of those robed ghosts appeared, each one at a corner around 
her. "Get out," he stated, turning to her. "This is between me and the 
demons. My knights will show you the way."
	She glanced from one to the next. "What are they?"
	He stepped in closer to her, taking her hand. "Former 
Shadowdemons, having pledged their allegiance to me. They do not have 
the freedom like Kishi once did in his dragon realm; these ones I don't trust 
as much. But they are released from the labyrinth to serve me; those masks 
keep their full powers at bay." 
	Suddenly a cold breeze swept through the chamber of stairs, 
tugging at her ocean-blue pleated skirt and his midnight cloak. The entire 
room pulsated with a new aura, brilliant hues of crimson and violet 
crackling from the walls and inside the archways.
	Ami threw her gaze up to the stairway ceiling and gasped as an 
enormous explosion of light streaked down towards them. "Look out!" she 
shouted.
	He never even moved to look; he moved to react, seizing her by 
the arms and catapulting the both of them off the ledge as the explosion 
rocked the entire chamber, smashing through the platform they had just 
been standing on.
	With a quick twist in midflight, they were righted in their fall and 
tumbled feetfirst onto another set of stairs. Smoke, dust and chunks of 
stone rained down all around them.
	"Shimatta," Meikyu muttered, coughing.
	"Are they dead?" she asked, catching her breath.
	He shook his head. "No; just banished from the labyrinth. Damned 
Shadowdemons are growing smarter and more powerful as the centuries 
wear on."
	Taking her hand he pulled her to her feet and led them both up the 
set of stairs until they reached the next platform. 
	"You fall rather gracefully," he remarked.
	She smiled shyly.
	Then he turned, staring at the passageway behind them. As she 
turned to gaze at it with her own eyes, the archway became filled with a 
black mist that filtered out from the cracks in the stones. The clouds 
swirled together to give birth to a human form--one that resembled Meikyu 
except where earthen brown hair once was midnight black replaced, and 
the shadow's eyes were grey and lifeless of all but evil. In place of his mask 
of ocean waves, there was the grinning skull of a hideous beast.
	"Hunter," it said with an evil smile, stepping out from the shadows 
of the black mist.
	His eyes narrowed. "These are not the rules of the game. Hiding as 
a dancer in my masquerade, and then bringing her into the labyrinth only 
summons my wrath and ends your existence."
	He stretched out his arm, hand reaching to grasp a hidden object. A 
long and beautiful staff appeared, fingers wrapping around the centre of the 
shaft.
	Suddenly from the tip of the staff an explosion of churning blue 
water spewed out, twisting and swirling around itself to form a long and 
lethal, tapering blade that glistened like ice. The staff had become a scythe.
	"Truly a frightening weapon," the Shadowdemon mocked.
	"Only one who has never seen my scythe would say that," he 
snapped.
	"This is no longer your domain, raven angel," the demon hissed. 
"We now rule this labyrinth. And your threats mean nothing more than 
words to be silenced!"
	The shadow threw out its hands, a violet pulse erupting from its 
palms and striking both of them. She screamed in pain, echoing his own 
cries as they were sent hurling over the edge of the platform.
	Suddenly she struck a slick surface, cold and hard, grimacing as she 
slid across it. She lifted her head off what had once been midair now 
become a floor of stone.
	He toppled past her across the new level, the scythe flying out from 
his grip and spinning across the surface. The second it stopped moving, the 
surface broke and the weapon was lost. Both of their eyes widened as the 
chasm began to open up with a hideous rumble, stone cracking into pieces 
which plummeted into a darkness far below them. 
	The masquerade wraith scrambled backwards as the jagged cracks 
streaked towards him, seeking him out as chunks of the thick rock fell into 
the darkness. But for as fast as he could move, the shattering floor was 
faster. His body started to slide as the stones beneath him tilted 
downwards. 
	"Meikyu!" she shouted, leaping to her feet and lunging towards 
him. He grabbed onto her outstretched hand, his other still trying to pull 
himself back over the side of the floor. And then two jade eyes widened in 
horror.
	"What is it?" she asked.
	"Get down!" he shouted, his grip on her palm tightening. He 
yanked her off her feet, throwing her over the side. She screamed as she 
fell, yet fell only as far as the length of their arms; Meikyu was still firmly 
gripping her hand.
	She tilted up her head, gasping as she saw the Shadowdemon pull 
it's massive blade-like claws out from the floor, from the stone exactly 
where she had been standing on only a heartbeat ago.
	The demon raised its hand to rake claws down upon both of them. 
The wraith glanced down at her with a smile fought through pain and dying 
strength.
	"Can you kick?" he asked.
	She nodded and braced herself as he abruptly flung her up over the 
edge of the ice. She twisted her body, both legs straight as they connected 
with the demon's chin. It's head snapped backwards and it toppled over.
	"Daijobu?" she asked, leaning over the precipice.
	He grinned. "I'll be right with you."
	Pulling himself out from the gorge of darkness, he wrapped his arm 
around her waist and then leaped towards a flight of stairs off the platform.
	With a loud growl the Shadowdemon struggled to right its human 
form. "Kon chikusho," it hissed.
	He shook his head. "I created this labyrinth. I'm not about to die in 
it when my masquerade still calls for me to dance with my lover."
	She found her heart racing at the mention of love. Had it been what 
had drawn her here and pushed her away at the same time? There could be 
no more denial or fear as to what she felt. She was in love.
	The demon chuckled viciously. "And thus you have all the more to 
lose, raven angel."
	Suddenly he was thrown backwards, striking the wall as he was 
torn from her grip. She whirled as she saw his body crash into stone, held 
in place as a cage of shining ice grew around him. He pounded furiously on 
the clear surface, trying to break free yet without any sound despite shouts 
and punches.
	Then the sound of slow footsteps reached her ears. She turned 
towards the demon, who was walking up the stairs. The Shadowdemon 
wagged a finger at Meikyu. "No use, guardian. You're trapped in our 
labyrinth of mirrors now. See if you can break free before it's too late. Let 
us restore your voice, that we might hear you beg for mercy."
	She was practically forgotten in this vendetta; as relieved as she 
felt, it burned her to feel a mere pawn in this deadly game.
	His voice returned, the masquerade wraith exploded in fury. "You 
bastard!" he shouted, opening up his palm to unleash another volley of 
fierce water magik. Yet it only sprayed back around him, held at bay by the 
powerful demon magik. "You so much as touch her, and I will see to it that 
your remains be scattered across the labyrinth for eternity."
	"We would love to see you try," the Shadowdemon sneered.
	Meikyu's eyes narrowed, and for a moment she saw the true dark 
side of his soul. The thrill of the hunt was taking control. "Is that a 
challenge?" he asked, a smile curling around his lips.
	The bone mask chuckled. "Hai."	
	He smiled fully now, thought not at her but the creature of evil. 
That glint was in his eyes. "Baka," he muttered, raising a flute to his lips 
and sounding a single note.
	The ice's reflection shattered before him. His lips played one more 
bar of that note, lingering as the shards beneath his feet shattered into 
splinters. Slowly he lowered the flute from his lips, cold eyes of jade green 
levelling to the mimic.
	"That," he stated coldly. "was what I wanted to hear." The flute 
disappeared, replaced with the scythe. 
	The demon bellowed, one arm turning into a scythe of its own. But 
the blade was of raging fire.
	She stood there, unable to do anything but watch as the two 
viciously converged and attacked, their scythes becoming mere blurs of 
streaking light as sparks exploded all around them. Waring magiks echoed 
with each strike, shaking the chamber of stairs.
	Abruptly the demon leaped aside, twisting its body so that its feet 
touched the side wall. And there it remained, perpendicular to the wraith--
and they still fought as if oblivious to this new development. Mekiyu 
catapulted himself into the air, attacking now upside-down. The two 
lunged for each other, hovering for a moment in the air as they exchanged 
blows. And then they fell, still fighting even when their feet touched stone.
	They drew back, brandishing their scythes with deadly precision. 
The masquerade wraith swung his around his face, holding the weapon 
with his one hand. He was panting hard breaths as he glared at the demon, 
blood dripping from the cut across his forehead.
	"What are you?" he demanded in a low voice.
	"We are the entity of all the nightmares you have trapped within 
these walls," the demon snarled, wiping away from its cheek a streak of its 
own black blood from its black heart. "Together we are one, and together 
you become the prey."
	Suddenly the demon lunged for him, raking down the scythe. His 
scream became hers as the tsunami scythe was torn from his hands, blood 
spraying out from the gash in his arm. The demon was merciless, spinning 
around to deliver a second blow.	
	Meikyu cried out as he fell, the gash right across his chest. The 
blow had barely missed gouging a hole through his body, but the raging 
fireblade had still left a wound, scarlet rivers running down his suit. His jade 
green eyes were cold and grim as the fireblade was levelled with his neck.
	"You will surrender the magik of the masquerade dancers to us," 
the Shadowdemon stated. "And then we will skin you and drag your body 
to our Empress."
	"I thought seduction was her forte," he countered. "Why leave me 
in pieces when you could make me one of your own?"
	The bone mask leaning in closer, eyeless sockets burrowing into 
him with an evil gaze. With a savage gesture, the demon's claws ripped the 
cloak from his back. Moments later the hardened tip of a boot smashed 
itself into Meikyu's chest.
	"Because we want to make you our cloak."
	Something inside her snapped, and no longer was she rooted to the 
stone, a mere watcher. She opened her palms, summoning the magik of 
water, calling upon all the power of her planetary guardian.
	"Mercury Aqua Rhapsody!"
	The Shadowdemon whirled as the geyser struck, slicing the attack 
in half with a clean stroke of its fiery scythe. All its attention was upon her, 
and she cringed beneath the evil in those eyes.
	"Now," the Shadowdemon laughed, its eyes flashing. "We wish to 
see how pretty of a dreamer you really are, Mizuno Ami."
	She held her breath; there was no way she could fight this creature 
in hand to hand combat, or even with magik against magik. She knew that 
she was no match. But she had another way of fighting.
	The question was did she have time to save them both?
	The visor spread across her face, the handheld computer appearing 
in her hands. Fingers moved with rapid speed in processing and collecting 
any data. She kept a solemn face, hiding the emotions; this was not the time 
for them. Now her most precious talent would be their sole was of 
surviving.
	She sucked in her breath as the computer revealed no way out; 
they were sealed in. "No," she whispered, still hoping for an escape.
	"Such bravery," the demon chuckled, drawing closer. "We had no 
idea you were this devoted to him."
	"Ami!" he shouted, struggling to rise to his feet. "Get out of here! 
Forget about me!"
	For a moment her eyes lifted from the screen of her computer, 
focusing on him. "I can't forget," she said quietly. "I never could."
	The computer was registering this creature in front of her as a 
possible life form. Hundreds of faces were hidden behind the bone-mask of 
the beast, all pooled together. 
	"Masaka!" she exclaimed. What was before her seemed impossible; 
the Shadowdemons, all their own masters, were bound within that body. 
Immortals had stolen a mortal shell to harvest their combined power. This 
thing was in human form, all the dark voices of the countless demons 
screaming for control inside the body. 
	"Ami!" Meikyu shouted, collapsing as he tried to stumble towards 
her. "Get out of the labyrinth or you'll die!"
	A stray memory from the past came into her mind, one from a 
story told by the long-haired blonde in her and the raven knight's darkest 
hour. The Shadowdemon there had maintained its figure of night, scoffing 
at the frailty of the mortal body. The only reason that demon had been 
destroyed was because of the deadly power of the Hellion Serpynt.
	But this one was different.
	Inside the labyrinth Meikyu had created, the Shadowdemons alone 
couldn't withstand his power. But what they had done was merge their 
powers to alter the labyrinth; they were now in control, but only achieved 
this by becoming one in body.
	It could bleed when wounded.
	This thing could be killed like any other mortal...and yet the power 
attained by assuming this human form was immense. There would be no 
guarantees that any attack would penetrate its barriers.
	The gleam of the tsunami scythe caught her eyes; it was only a step 
away. She grabbed hold of the scythe and lifted it as high as she could. The 
weight of the weapon was surprisingly heavy, and she could barely get it up 
by her head. Her eyes widened as the demon leaped up before her, striking 
her across the cheek, trails of blood left down her face and on its claws.
	The scythe slid across the floor, teetering over the edge of the 
platform. For a heartbeat it was balanced and then fell, caught only at the 
last moment by Meikyu. Pulling out the weapon, he crawled over to her.
	"What are you trying to prove?" he panted as he cradled the scythe.
	She smiled, struggling to right herself. "Strike its bone mask," she 
whispered. "This creature is mortal now, and can be killed."
	"We destroy all the horde's power at once," he agreed. "But we 
can't get past its defenses." He scowled. "Chikusho! If only I had an 
opening!"
	She watched as his gaze flicked from anger to concern as she 
fought to bring herself to stand. "Watch for the opening," she said.
	She had to put her fears and doubts aside; if there was any moment 
to trust in this mysterious soul, then it was now. If she was wrong, she 
would pay with her life. They both would.
	"Ami-chan, no!" he exclaimed.
	A sudden strike from the Shadowdemon sent him toppling over the 
side and down a flight of stairs. Gone from her view, she realized that she 
was alone. There was no chance even her best attack could stand up to this 
creature's powers. But she had to try, to give Meikyu the opening. She had 
to trust him.
	Slowly she rose to her feet, fighting against her weakened 
condition. Holding out her hands to the demons bound in human flesh, she 
tried for another attack.
	"Mercury--"
	The demon's fingers wrapped tightly around her throat, choking the 
very breath out of her lungs. She was raised into the air, her feet dangling 
off the floor. One of her hands gripped the demon's arm, trying to release 
her windpipe.
	"Ami!" she heard a voice scream.
	"Meikyu," she whispered hoarsely, grimacing from the burning pain 
in her lungs.
	The demon's laughter echoed inside her mind. "And so it ends," it 
snarled. "Where is your precious love now?"
	Her other arm rose up, shaking as she fought to stay conscious. 
Palm opened and then came between her face and the demon's mask. 
Through half-shut eyes she managed to salvage any strength she had left, 
invoking what could be her last summon of magik.
	"Shining...Aqua Illusion!"
	The skull became warped as the jawbone opened wide and let out 
an enraged scream as the freezing ice struck it at point blank range. The 
nightmare personified stumbled backwards, twisting as the ice tried to 
burrow into its head. In its rage, the Shadowdemon clamped down around 
her throat, threatening to crush it completely. She gasped, searing heated 
pain exploding through her body. Shades of red and yellow smothered her 
vision.
	Suddenly there he was, the tsunami blade raised over the 
masquerade wraith's head as he viciously swung it towards her. Blue eyes 
widened as the gleaming blade arced past her face, narrowly grazing her 
cheek. But she was still alive.
	"SHIN'NE!!!" he bellowed, burying the blade.
	With a scream she was released, collapsing to the floor as the 
raging blade of the scythe smashed through the skull mask. The jawbone 
shattered, flung into the air as the eyeholes were crushed and imploded. 
Thick black ooze spurted out from the ruptured bone, spraying across his 
face and suit.
	"Impossible!" the demon host wailed.
	Meikyu's grip on the scythe shaft tightened. "That's why you never 
take on mortal form," he hissed. "To hell with your powers if you can't live 
to wield them!"
	He savagely pulled out the blade, dragging with it a tangled, 
pulsating mass of black. The Shadowdemon's body was still standing, 
twitching and its feeble howls lifted up to the height of the chamber of 
stairs.
	She found her vision returning to focus, and lifted her head to 
witness the final demise of the demon as he spun the scythe and made one 
fatal slash that tore the creature's head from its shoulders. The remains of 
the shattered skull and its head were locked in a horrified scream as it 
soared through the air.
	But that was not the end.
	He whirled, eyes tracking the severed head. And then he raised the 
scythe over his own head, the powers of the ocean's wrath swarming 
around his body. She rose up, her own body charged by a watery magik 
she shared with him.
	"Leviathans!" he shouted. 
	His magik exploded to bath the room in a fierce blue hue. Foam 
and waves rippled up stairways, around archways and snaked their way 
through the air, the ends of the watery tendrils taking shape into a vicious, 
snarling faces. These were the faces of the leviathans.
	Her own health and vibrancy had returned to her as she breathed 
the windfall of his magik. Palms open, she stretched out her arms and 
unleashed a mutual attack. "Mercury Aqua Rhapsody!"
	And their twin magiks joined together to form an attack that 
merged together with two raging tidalwaves. One seeing, evil eye from the 
Shadowdemon's skeletal mask widened in terror as the flood cascaded 
down in a raging torrent of leviathans.
 	The creature was torn to shreds as the leviathans feasted on its 
flesh. With one final eruption the leviathans fell upon themselves and 
became a massive geyser that quickly petered out, leaving a gentle rainfall 
over the entire chamber of stairways.
	Their energy exhausted, both fighters fell onto their knees, battered 
but survivors. He pushed himself next to her, and they leaned into each 
other. "I thought I told you to get out of the labyrinth," he said with a weak 
smile, caressing her bloodstained cheek.
	She laughed, shaking her head at him. "I didn't think you would try 
to get yourself killed." Fingers touched the new mask taking form on his 
face, that of crimson blood. Already the rainfall was washing it away.
	"Not while you are here with me, Ami-chan," he answered softly.
	But there was no time for peace; the entire structure shuddered 
violently, sending down a torrent of dust with the rain. He curled himself 
over her to shield her from any falling stones. Indeed debris was crashing 
down all over the chambers.
	"Meikyu," she whispered. "Look."
	Her eyes widened as she stared out to the vast expanse of the 
chambers of stairways. It was folding in upon itself. Stairs were ripped 
from their platforms, crumbling apart and crashing to what might have been 
the floor far below. A severed archway plummeted past their platform, 
nearly taking both of them with it.
	"The labyrinth's collapsing!" he exclaimed. "Damned demons made 
it symbiotic when they merged; they go, and it goes too."
	"Where's the torii?" she said. The black gateway was their only 
known exit out from this nightmarish maze. 
	He pointed to a platform high above their heads where the torii 
could be seen looming over them. And then a second later the gateway 
shattered, exploding down black remnants of the portal connecting realms. 
She buried her head into his chest as fragments of the torii crashed onto 
their platform.
	"They sealed off our way out," he said quietly. Neither one had any 
more strength left to even stand, and they turned to meet the gaze of the 
other. "We're not going to make it," he said, trying to hide the tears.
	His hand gently touched hers, clasping palms and lacing fingers. 
The blood on his face was now covered in dust. "Gomen, Ami-chan. I'm 
sorry it had to be this way."
	Another series of staircases collapsed, sending a platform and its 
archway smashing into another set of stairs. A cloud of smoke nearly 
engulfed them, and the labyrinth shuddered in its death throes. Yet in that 
moment the convulsions of the chamber and the downpour of rubble and 
dust seemed to fade away as she stared into his eyes.
	"Hold me," she whispered, closing her eyes as a tear fell down her 
cheek.
	"I swear I won't leave you," he whispered into her ear. "I'll protect 
you until the end comes for us both. I love you, Ami-chan."
	She felt warm in his embrace despite her own body trembling in 
fear. Nothing else mattered now to her; all she wanted was to die with the 
soul whose piercing jade eyes and dangerous smile she had fallen in love 
with. 
	"Meikyu," she cried.
	And then the deafening rumbles were drowned out by a loud shout:
	"What in the hell are you two just standing there for?!"
	She turned her head and caught a glimpse of the bartender as a suit 
and silver cloak swept them up moments as the platform once beneath their 
feet was reduced to collapsing stones. She was flying now in the 
bartender's arms. They landed upon another stable platform, the silver 
cloak of the Wanderer fluttering around them. She simply stared at their 
guardian while Meikyu sighed in relief.
	"Arigato, Karasu-san," he said gratefully.
	She stared at the Wanderer in surprise. "Karasu?" she exclaimed. 
Then maybe there was hope for escape!
	"At your service," Karasu said with a quick bow. "Now if you don't 
mind, I can't hold my illusionary portal into this place for much longer."
	A loud tear through the air caused her head to tilt, and she saw a 
large piece of severed staircase plunging right towards them, threatening to 
crush them all.
	"Brace yourself!" Meikyu said, trying to shield her.
	And then a new shout echoed across the savage destruction:
	"World Shaking!"
	A brillant sphere of glowing orange smashed into the chunk of 
stairway, reducing it to mere dust. Her head snapped around and she saw a 
very familiar warrior in a similar battle fuku like hers.
	"Sailor Uranus!" she exclaimed.
	"Dammit, Karasu, we don't have all night!" the sandy-blonde 
snapped.
	The tall sandy-blonde whirled as another piece of stone archway 
swung towards her, but that rock was blown apart by a new attack of 
lightening magik. The sandy-blonde gave a wry grin as the tall brunette 
dropped down alongside.
	"Not bad, Mako-chan," the sandy-blonde remarked.
	"Come on!" Karasu exclaimed, gathering them both up and taking 
a second flying leap across the growing gorge, adeptly bounding from 
stone to falling stone.
	The Wanderer handed her over to the sandy-blonde, and took 
Meikyu in his own grip. "I can't carry them both through this debris field."
	She was still too weak to use her own strength, and allowed herself 
to be gathered up in the arms of the sandy-blonde. It didn't matter how they 
knew she was here.
	The trio leaped out into the path of the plummeting stones, 
dodging some and catapulting themselves off others. The tall brunette gave 
a startled shout as a piece of stairway tried to crush her. Crackling blue fire 
swatted the staircase aside, and the raven knight leaped out from atop 
another falling stone. 
	"The portal's this way!" Kishi stated. "And it's not going to hold for 
much longer."
	Her eyes were slowly going closed, her strength finally failing her. 
The last thing she remembered seeing was an end to the toppling labyrinth, 
a circular portal with all her friends at the other side, sending out attacks of 
magik to clear the path.
	"Meikyu," she whispered.
	And then the darkness of sleep.


	When her blue eyes opened once more, it was in the company of 
friends in the atrium outside the labyrinth. The black torii was toppled over, 
dashed to pieces no doubt by the maze's implosion.
	He was there too amidst all her friends, looking very battered but 
smiling as his jade green eyes met hers. A dark cloak and a beautiful white 
mask drifted past her, and her entire body tingled in healing. Another Yurei 
Knight was tending to him as well, the blood washed clean from his face, 
the gashes across his chest and arm sealed and purified.
	"Daijobu, Ami-chan?" the long-haired blonde asked.
	She nodded.
	"Ami-chan!" the odango-haired blonde cried, leaning against her. "I 
though I wouldn't see you or Meikyu-san again!"
	She smiled softly at the concerned tears of the odango-haired 
blonde; so passionate the girl was about friends, not wishing to see anyone 
hurt.
	"You two gave us quite a scare," the dark-haired shrine girl said. 
	The raven angel nodded. "Imagine our concern when you both 
disappeared, and then Michiru's mirror picked up a new evil force inside 
the palace."
	"The Shadowdemons merged together to seize the power of the 
labyrinth," he explained. "They stole Ami from the ballroom, and then 
attacked us both when I went in after her."
	"Are they dead?" the dark-haired shrine girl asked.
	"Judging from what's left of the labyrinth, I'd say they're quite 
dead," the Wanderer remarked, casting a glance back at the crumbled torii.
	She looked from each face to the next, finally resting her gaze upon 
the masquerade wraith. And then she realized she had indeed seen them 
before amidst the ballroom dancers. "Everyone knew?" she asked.
	He nodded. "They have been here all the time to watch over you, 
Ami-chan. They seem just as protective of you as I am."
	"You should have seen him when he found out you were in his 
labyrinth," the tall, sandy-blonde said. "He was ready to smash through the 
gates of hell to get you back."
	He blushed slightly at all the attention.
	"From the looks of the labyrinth he already did," the dark-haired 
prince said.
	"He was very determined about bringing you out," Kishi agreed.
	"What about your actions when Minako was killed at the 
pyramids?" the shrine protege inquired.
	The raven knight nodded. "Hai. I acted in the same fashion, but 
there I had nothing else to lose. Meikyu had everything: his kingdom, his 
beloved, and his own soul."
	"It still wouldn't have been enough if all of you came to protect us," 
he stated.
	"Friends take care of each other, ne?" the tall brunette said with a 
playful wink. "You asked us to help bring you and Ami-chan together, and 
we did just that."
	"Not that Ami-chan didn't need all that much convincing," the 
odango-haired blonde remarked, turning to her. "You always knew he was 
the guy for you, Ami-chan. You just needed us to help give you a push in 
that direction."
	"After all," the long-haired blonde added. "All Roman roads lead 
somewhere!"
	"That's `all roads lead to Rome', Minako-chan," the raven knight 
sighed as everyone stifled their laughter.
	The masquerade wraith got up and walked over to her, extending 
his hand as the others rose to their feet. "Come again tomorrow night," he 
said, helping her up. "I'll be waiting."
	She stroked his cheek. "I'll be there, Meikyu."
	"Awwww!" everyone sighed romantically.
	He burst out laughing while she in turn blushed prettily. Eyes of 
seductive, piercing jade looked down at her. "Would you object if I 
embarrassed you with a kiss in front of your friends?"
	She responded by pulling his lips down to hers, giving him a 
passionate kiss. She broke off, chuckling at the surprised look across his 
face. The Wanderer whistled approval while the odango-haired blonde and 
the long-haired blonde cheered her on. 
	"How's that for an answer?" she inquired with a sly grin.
	"I think he's turned the shy little mouse into a purring kitten," the 
aqua-haired woman remarked to the sandy-blonde.
	"That's not such a bad thing, is it?" the tall sandy-blonde replied.
	Slowly, regretfully, he drew away from her. "Until the next sunset, 
Ami-chan. I await you then." 
	"Oyasumi nasai, Meikyu," she said with a small wave.
	He faded like a ghost, the four Yurei Knights attending to him as 
he disappeared. The grand halls of the floating palace started to also fade to 
black as the realm of the waking hours approached.
	She smiled as she watched him go, sighing contently.
	"Ne, Ami-chan," the odango-haired blonde inquired. "How did it 
feel to kiss him?"
	"Hai!" the long-haired blonde insisted. "We want details, Ami-
chan! Details!"
	She blushed, giggling nervously as all her female friends looked to 
her direction. "Ano...."
	Suddenly the odango-haired blonde, the long-haired blonde, the 
dark-haired shrine girl and the tall brunette had clustered around her, 
demanding details.
	"Ami-chan!" they chorused.


	The Moonlight Masquerade was raging on with dancers, laughter 
and wine as the clear sky and crystal ocean sparkled all around.
	From his place, the bearer of the mask of living waters watched the 
gala. "She's staying up late again," he remarked, leaning against the bar, 
fingering an empty wine glass. His jade eyes stared out at the other souls 
present; most of the ballroom was already filled with revellers for one more 
night of dancing and dreaming.
	"She's always been a night owl," the Wanderer replied, pouring 
another glass of wine at a couple's requst. "And this is probably her revenge 
for having everyone conspiring together to get her a boyfriend."
	He smiled at the remark, removing his mask. "One must be careful 
with such a fragile heart," he said. "I didn't want her to realize that 
everyone she trusts was playing a part in this, or else she might have pulled 
away. Coincidence was the best way to play the game."
	"Too many coincidences make for a conspiracy," the dark-haired 
prince stated, drawing up beside him.
	He cocked an eyebrow. "And too many conspiracies make for 
paranoia, Mamoru. No, this was best. This was for Ami-chan, and we all 
agreed upon this approach, that there be none on our part." He gave a 
delicious smile. "And besides, this was all the more fun. She sees me as an 
attractive and seductive yet dangerous individual. I shouldn't disappoint 
her."
	The Wanderer sighed. "Yare yare. I think you're enjoying this too 
much, Meikyu."
	The dark-haired prince's expression grew somber. "Walk with me, 
Meikyu," the dark-haired prince asked.
	They kept a simple but brisk pace, walking up the stairs and away 
from the ears and eyes of the other dancers. The second floor held only a 
few scattered couples, too involved in their romance to notice them.
	"Are you sure it is her you love?" the dark-haired prince asked 
cautiously. "Her, and not the princess you fell in love with so many 
centuries ago?  Who is it you truly love?"
	He smiled to himself. "I love them both, Mamoru-san. I love Ami-
chan for who she is, and the memories her face brings back to me. That is 
why I am putting on such a brilliant masquerade for everyone. If this is 
love, then I wish for her to court me. After all the female of the species is 
more deadly than the male."
	"In your case an exception might be made," the dark-haired prince 
wryly said.
	He gave another smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
	He stared down at the masquerade dancers, laughing and loving in 
each other's embrace. From his viewpoint he could pick out the ones he 
had drawn to this place. Those who were her friends, who saw him to be a 
friend also.
	His gaze shifted over to the dark-haired prince. But the prince was 
gone, slipped away much like he was prone to doing as well. All that 
remained was a single red rose left where the prince had once stood, a few 
crimson petals caught in the breeze and scattered across the expanse of the 
ballroom.
	Meikyu shook his head. "Quit showing off, Mamoru. Who do you 
think taught you that trick in your dreams?"
	Jade eyes caught sight of ripples of shimmering shades in blue. 
Wearing that beautiful, billowy dress she walked into the ballroom. Though 
it was not at the top of the curved staircase; instead she walked out from 
the fountain corridor, her blue hair adorned with barrettes of shimmering 
pearls and silver dolphins.
	He smiled as once again the advantage was his in spotting her first, 
and made his way to the staircase, adjusting his mask. But he paused as a 
familiar face passed him by.
	"You're leaving already, Karasu?" he asked.
	The Wanderer nodded. "You and Ami-chan are together, and now 
I must go on my own for a while again. I do thank you, though, for inviting 
me to this little party. The rest was a welcomed one."
	"Iie. I should be thanking you," he countered. "You came at my 
request when you didn't have to, and then saved our lives back in the 
labyrinth. How can I repay you?"
	The Wanderer glanced out to the dancers, smiling at the sight of 
the dark-haired shrine girl and the shrine protege laughing as they twirled 
together amidst the masked dancers.
	"Just seeing Rei-chan's smile is payment enough," Karasu 
answered. "Hers, and the smiles of the other girls. There is something very 
special about each of them, Meikyu; take care of Ami-chan."
	"Hai," he said. "You have my word."
	"Just one last question," the Wanderer added. "What do you do 
with the Shadowdemons you slay?"
	He paushed, turning only his head to give a dark smile. "Ever 
wondered what this suit was made of?"
	"I swear you have Mystwolf blood running through your body," 
Karasu remarked, crystal blue eyes rolling behind the shades. "In this 
respect you're akin to their tastes. Sayonara, Meikyu."
	And then a dancer crossed between them, the Wanderer choosing 
to disappear just then.
	"Sayonara, Kageno Karasu," he said quietly. "Pleasant dreams 
wherever you go."
	His gaze returned to the princess of the waters and oceans as she 
slowly made her way up the flight of stairs. They met halfway, hand in 
hand.
	"You made it," he sighed. "I was beginning to wonder if you would 
ever fall asleep."
	"Gomen," she replied with a shy smile. "I had to study for a test 
and lost track of time."
	"We have all the time in the world," he answered. "Eternity is a 
long time, Ami-chan." He curiously appraised her flushed and excited 
condition. "Are you sure you were just studying before you crossed over?"
	She blushed at that, a bright shade of rouge.
	He chuckled. "Kawaii, Ami-chan. Kawaii."
	She found herself entrapped by his eyes once more, a tingling 
warmth flooding her body. So this was love; for so long she had denied 
herself this feeling, buried it deep down. Now it had surfaced, and she 
never wanted this feeling to go away.
	She rested her head against his shoulder. "My only regret is that 
when this dream ends I'll have to wait until tomorrow night to see you 
again."
	"Why wait?" he countered. "I'll escourt you home after the 
masquerade."
	Her eyes widened in surprise; to her knowledge Meikyu hadn't 
been granted access into Earth like Sora and Kishi once had. "How?" she 
asked.
	"I was freed of my duties as a guardian angel long ago," he 
explained. "When my kingdom became a palace floating on an ocean, I 
found myself able to cross over to your world, but never found a reason to 
go there. Yet I stayed here to watch over your family's dreams. That is why 
I could appear to you in the library."
	"But the labyrinth?" she pressed. Why would Shadowdemons try 
to attack a realm of the Dreamworld declared off limits?
	He laughed at her innocent curiousity. "It's the temptation, Ami-
chan; an opening into an untouchable realm. After all, I do live for the--"
	"The thrill of the hunt," she finished, nodding. "I guessed that." 
	He took a step down, pulling her down with him. Her heart leaped 
inside her chest as he took her out onto the dance floor. Amidst the blurs of 
exotic colours and guises, she took her hand in his and they danced 
together.
	The feeling was exhilarating, as if she were really floating inside 
heaven. Every part of his body seemed to become a part of hers and 
together they seemed to move as one soul. 
	The rippling waters and crimson kanji caught her gaze. "You don't 
need this anymore," she said, gently tugging at the mask and removing it 
from his face. She stifled a gasp as for the first time his face was fully 
revealed. Pale yet smooth and beautiful, very much like one she had 
dreamed of.
	"I may not be a young Einstein," he remarked. "But I can assure 
you that I'm a killer at chess." 
	"We'll just have to see about that," she replied. She leaned against 
his chest as they slow-danced in the thick of the ballroom dancers. 
Sometimes she would catch a glimpse of familiar faces behind exotic 
masks, the ladies of those couples smiling and waving to her.
	She felt so excited tonight, magik flowing through and possessing 
her body, her soul. "Please," she asked. "Come with me to my world 
tonight after this dance."
	"Hai, your Majesty," he answered.
	She playfully batted his shoulder. "Just because I'm a princess 
doesn't mean you have to call me by that title."
	"How about Megami?" he inquired. "Or perhaps Jo'o-sama? My 
goddess and queen of the waters."
	She blushed again at his fond whispers.
	The symphony paused, and in that moment they slipped out from 
the ballroom and its dancers, stepping through the portal that would return 
them to her world, to her bed.
	She wanted so much to be with him tonight, to become a part of 
him as he became a part of her. For so long shy fear had kept her passions 
deep within, and only now was romance surfacing in her life.
	"Watch your step, Ami-chan," Meikyu said.
	They stopped beneath the gentle-curving roof of the fountain 
corridor, the four Yurei Knights appearing. The black robes billowed out 
to blanket them both in a veil of night. As the folds of dark fabric swept 
around them, she gathered herself up in his arms and leaned forward to 
kiss. He made no effort to resist, letting his lips touch hers. And together 
they journeyed into a world of waking hours.


	"Your mother's not going to object if she suddenly finds a 
Dreamworld guardian in your house, is she?" he asked cautiously, glancing 
down the dim hallway of her large house.
	"She's out for a conference in Kyoto tonight," she answered. "We 
have the house to ourselves until Thursday."
	He cocked an eyebrow. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you 
had this planned, Ami-chan."
	She smiled; it had never been her intention, but merely a matter of 
rather convenient timing. He smiled, walking alongside with her. She led 
him into the spacious living room--or rather, the foyer. There was yet to be 
an enormous Christmas tree adorned with shimmering orbs and lights and 
decorations and tinsel, sitting over a stack of presents. It was still too early 
in the month for that time to come.
	"It is almost Christmas, Ami-chan," he said, snapping his fingers. 
Without touching a switch or a knob, multiple lights and lamps turned 
themselves on. A large, crackling fire erupted from the fireplace. "What 
would you like as a present?"
	The room seemed so warm and glowing, as if the peak of the 
season was already upon them. She smiled, leaning closer, savouring his 
strange scent of crystal waters and mystic danger. "I already have my 
present, Meikyu-chan."
	They sat down on one of the plush couches, hands clasped with 
one another. She stared into his jade eyes, hoping that he would lean 
forward to kiss her, to caress her skin.
	"Meikyu," she whispered.
	"Ami-chan," he responded, his fingers stroking her palm. Her 
breath quickened as did her heart's beat. "A chess match, perhaps?" he 
abruptly inquired.
	"N-now?" she asked, disappointed and shaken up as her body was 
crying out for his touch.
	Meikyu grinned. "Strip chess?" 
	He snapped his fingers, their set-up for the duel appearing 
assembled on the floor before the roaring fire, its dancing crimson glow 
bouncing across their faces as they found themselves on opposite ends of 
the chess board.
	"The rules are simple enough," he stated. "For every piece you 
lose, you lose an article of clothing."
	She glanced down at herself; her eyes widened. "But I'm still 
wearing my dress!" There were maybe four articles she had on, and that 
was it!
	He cocked an eyebrow. "So you are...and I have on my layers of 
tuxedo. It'll take me four games to shed all of this."
	She laughed, leaning over the gameboard. "Baka!" she scolded, 
wrapping her arms around his neck. "You planned that!"
	She kissed him passionately, letting go of every inhibition that had 
kept her back for so long. Tonight she wanted to be the leader, to be the 
enigma walking in his dreams. Tonight she wanted to feel love in all its 
estacy.
	"To hell with the match," he muttered, wiping the pieces off the 
board as he laid back with her still forcing him down onto the floor.
	She held her breath as his touch moved around the base of her 
neck, tracing the edge of her blouse. Her own fingers moved without a 
trace of her knowledge, nimbly undoing the buttons on his jacket and shirt, 
separating the folds to reveal his chest.
	She pressed her lips against his again, gasping and panting for air as 
the room seemed to become filled with a sweltering heat. The top of her 
gown was slid down the sides of her body, revealing her rounded breasts. 
The smooth silk of the fabric running down her skin send her nerves all on 
edge.
	Skin rubbed against skin, electric and hot. She moved and touched 
all that she could of his body, trying to feel his presence all around her. 
Nothing was left between them, and they came together.
	There was a moment of pain, and he tried to comfort her amidst it. 
Soon the pain was forgotten, and all she could see were his eyes staring 
back at her in love as they moved in one accord to a rhythm of their magik.
	Something was building up inside of her, threatening to destroy her 
mind with an incredible passion engulfing her very voice. She curled up her 
fingers, oblivious to his stifled hiss as she scratched her nails down his skin, 
drawing blood.
	She could not hold back any longer as their rhythm caught her up 
in a tidalwave of passion. Her entire core was on fire, and she tightly 
wrapped herself around him.
	"Meikyu!" she cried out as the rush exploded within her, capturing 
and possessing her entire body and soul. Heaven seemed to be beneath her 
wings as she trembled in excitement. Life became an explosion that 
radiated out from her core, as if she had just tasted death.
	And then her eyes were closed and she collapsed on top of her 
masquerade wraith. He smiled softly, stroking her hair as he he looked at 
her glistening face now peacefully in sleep. She had passed out in that vital 
moment, so overcome by the passion and the magik they had shared 
together.
	"La petite mort," he whispered to himself. He made no move to 
awaken her, but stayed where he was and watched her sleep like an 
exhausted angel.
	"Oyasumi nasai, Ami-chan. Dream well."
	Soon he too fell asleep.
	They slept there together, her in his warm embrace. And there they 
remained long after the embers of a dying fire flickered with a last breath of 
life. But somewhere amidst the silence of a quiet room, a symphony of 
night could be heard, and flickering in the shadows were two masquerade 
dancers together in romance and love.
	"Ami-chan...."
	"Meikyu...."

=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 5th Night - The Harbinger's Tale
Rated R


	Kindred: (n) 2.a: relationship by blood or marriage;
 	  kinship.  b: possession of similar qualities; 
	  affinity

			-Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary



	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be 
brought to life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a 
book, a story for others to gaze upon and be swallowed 
whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik 
of a thousand dreamers and their dreams. Within every soul 
lies a story to tell, each event a tale to give unto 
others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few 
of many chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her 
name is Naoko Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of 
her heart and soul. They belong in her embrace. But the 
Mystwolves, those who live in the myst of the Dreamworld 
belong to another, and they are of my skin and soul. I 
embrace their world and their fangs as my own children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their 
creators. The world of the Moon Princess and her royal 
court belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls 
belong to her; they are a part of her stories. But the 
realm of the waking dreamers, and of the Darkpacks who roam 
within them, are a part of my own story.  Milady Naoko's 
princesses belong in their castles beyond the moon, and my 
Mystwolves belong lurking in the corners of our dreams. 
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for 
your requests if you wish my raven angels to wander into 
other worlds and other stories.

	-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)



	"Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
	 In the forests of the night, 
	 What immortal hand or eye
	 Could frame thy fearful symmetry?"

				-William Blake, "The Tyger"


	For over one thousand years have I wandered this realm 
beyond our dreams, where those with the magik walk as if 
their dreams were their waking hours. From one kingdom to 
the next I have travelled, finding many tales to reach my 
listening ears.
	And none are darker than those of the creatures of the 
evening mysts that are the essence this realm. Their 
howlsong can shatter the still of a midnight sky, and even 
raven angels and Shadowdemons will pay them respect. Legend 
holds that they were the first to ever roam the kingdoms of 
this place.
	They are the Dreamworld's firstborn.
	They are the Mystwolves.
	Possessed with deadly stalking prowess, they are bound 
by fierce codes to protect each other from danger. To 
tangle with one is to declare war on every last one of them 
who breathes. If only humans were as dedicated to their 
friends as the Mystwolves are. Yet I know of a handful who 
would cross into hell if it meant rescuing a friend. I have 
witnessed them nearly die to save the life of one they 
cared deeply about. These girls and their raven angels are 
very much like the Mystwolves in this respect.
	But how far would you be willing to go to protect 
someone who was not of your breed, not of your realm? What 
price is worth paying to see someone breathe for one more 
day, even if it meant you had to breathe your last?
	Let me tell you a story....


	THE HARBINGER'S TALE


	Alone he stoop atop the lonely flat surface of the 
plateaus, staring down at the lush vegetation and 
cliffscapes far below. Beyond the horizon of these plateaus 
was a sea of jungle forests that swallowed up both 
highlands and valleys. And somewhere in that beyond there 
lied an empire of dragons.
	Three large crystal orbs were being twirled around in 
his palm, the moonlight flashing off their glistening 
surfaces. Gently and gracefully he plucked one of the orbs 
without disturbing the motions of the remaining two. 
Lifting the orb to his lips he blew on the crystal, and it 
suddenly took off like a bubble.
	He brushed aside some bangs of shining blonde hair 
from his shades as he watched the crystal float away into 
the night sky, to journey through the realms until it found 
a place to rest. Another wish made, another hope come to 
take wings.
	The cool winds breathed life into his silver cloak, 
the ends billowing out at his side. The edges of his black 
jacket and tie fluttered into the breeze.
	And then a grey mist rose up from behind him, possibly 
filtering out from the rock but not like ordinary smoke or 
cloud. Still continuing with the twirling of the crystals 
in his one palm, he glanced back at the mist.
	With a loud whinny a steed trotted out from the mists, 
brilliant and elegant, its long flowing mane dancing in the 
winds that suddenly swept the plateau. But it was not a 
Silvermane. Instead what he saw before him was a white 
unicorn bearing a set of angel's wings. A Pegasus steed, 
pawing at the ground with its hooves as the hot air from 
its nostrils came out as wisps of steam.
	He turned his entire body now, pushing the cloak over 
his shoulders so it billowed up behind him and over the 
edge of the plateau as he faced the Pegasus.
	Plucking a second crystal, he blew it out into the 
kingdoms beyond the plateau. And then with a rapid twist of 
his hand, he rolled the last crystal around his wrist and 
brought it into his other palm. This one also drifted out 
into the night air on his breath, floating to a place only 
it would decide upon.
	He never opened his mouth to speak. Instead from 
behind his shades he gave the white steed a quizzical 
expression. The Pegasus lowered its head, pointing its horn 
towards the decorated cliffsides far below. He turned and 
gazed down in that direction, slowly pulling the shades off 
his face to reveal a pair of crystal blue eyes.
	A glance to his side showed that once again he was 
alone on top of this plateau. There was no surprise or 
confusion in his face; if anything his curiousity had been 
piqued by this visitation. So he remained at the edge of 
the plateau and stared out at the jungle forests sprawled 
out before him, and to the crescent moon high in the 
midnight skies.
	Somewhere out there a cool wind was blowing.
	Then out beyond he heard a chorus of haunting cries 
lifted up to the air, howls of the wolf. And yet of no 
ordinary wolf, but of Mystwolf.
	The darkpacks were on the move once more.


	It was midnight somewhere out there on the planet 
known as Earth, but here inside the Dreamworld it was 
forever that hour where never a sunrise nor a sunset had 
ever been seen let alone glimpsed. Yet the eternal moon, 
forever going through its waxes and wanings, circled the 
skies with its host of stars.
	Tonight the moon was in its crescent form, and tonight 
it was gazing down upon the rocky faces of the forest 
cliffs that were shadowed by the looming plateaus off in 
the nearby distance. Here a waterfall cascaded gracefully 
down levels of stone and through channels of rock to 
finally crash down in a white, bubbly steam over the 
hotsprings.
	She was alone as she bathed beneath the warm water 
rushing over her hair, her shoulders, her entire pale white 
body. The interior of these rocks heated the water, and she 
had come here knowing full well that she would find a 
hotspring and not a cold though refreshing lake.
	With a sigh she let the warmth course down her sixteen 
year-old body. It was a body that had seen time both askew 
and amok, and she herself had grown up twice in one life. 
But now she had returned to the way she once was, the way 
she once knew herself to be.
	The winds whistled as they swept past her, sending up 
another rush of steam from the water. But as the whistling 
of the air died down, new sounds reached her ears: 
breathing, panting, growling. These were the sounds made by 
animals of the Dreamworld, ones she knew well enough. Her 
hands crossed demurely over her breasts, she turned and 
looked out the forest around the hotspring.
	One pair of eyes suddenly lit up the darkness amidst 
the trees, glowing brilliant gold as they stared at her. 
The slitted eyes of a cat watched, yet they belonged to a 
creature not quite feline yet not fully canine.
	Another pair of golden eyes were opened, emerging from 
the shadows. She could see nothing in the darkness except 
those eyes, but she could hear them move amidst the 
foliage. And then one more pair of golden eyes were opened, 
followed by another, and yet another still.
	A legion of blazing golden eyes were drifting past the 
shadows of the trees lining the edge of the clearing. The 
winds carried with them the growls and breaths of a wild 
wolf. But she was not frightened, smiling as she watched 
the many eyes fade away until only one pair was left.
	They were retreating.
	All but one, for he was their Huntking, their Alpha 
male. Out of respect and honour for the one more ancient 
than any of the wolves in the darkpack, they allowed him 
the privacy to approach her.
	"Okami-chan," she said quietly, a delicate smile 
growing on her face.
	The Mystwolf pushed out from the darkness of the 
forest, its sleek body sparkling in tints and shades of 
silver in the pale moonlight. Twin sets of fangs were at 
the corners of its mouth, slender and lethal. The wolf 
walked over to the edge of hotspring and looked down at its 
reflection into the surface. For a moment she saw a human 
face with the same eyes stare up at the wolf. Then the 
waters rippled and the reflection vanished. 
	He waited patiently as she waded over to the edge of 
the hotspring, leaning against the delicate grass to stare 
up at the wolf. In turn the wolf sat down and lowered its 
head until they were nose to nose.
	They remained like that for a while, silent and 
staring into each other's eyes. He seemed almost human in 
those two golden cat-eyes, looking at her with dedicated 
affection.
	"Were you waiting long?" she asked, reaching out with 
one hand to scratch behind the Mystwolf's ears. The wolf 
seemed to growl approvingly, it's own version of a purr.
	A mischievous smile came across her face as the 
Mystwolf relaxed under her stroking, and she moved closer 
until both hands were able to wrap around the wolf's body. 
And then she pulled as hard as she could.
	Giving a startled yelp, the Mystwolf toppled into the 
water with a loud splash. She giggled as wet fur brushed 
against her warm skin as she too fell backwards. The 
Mystwolf emerged from beneath the water's surface. But this 
was not a wolf to arise, but a young man. He bore with him 
the telltale cat-eyes of his breed; apart from that he now 
appeared no more wolf than she.
	"You devilish little imp!" he said, his voice low but 
smooth, a strange blend between growling and purring. 
	She laughed and tried to escape, splashing through the 
waist-high water as he gave chase. Yet he seemed to glide 
through the hotspring, and with relative ease he wrapped 
his arms around her and scooped her up out of the water, 
playfully tossing her back down.
	Once more she found herself in his arms as he helped 
her back up from below the water's surface, her wet, 
shoulder-length raven hair clinging to her neck and 
shoulders. She fought in his firm grip as he drew her 
closer.
	She stared in playful defiance at him, but then 
relaxed as he lowered his head to kiss her. His grip on her 
arms was lost, instead his hands wrapping around her back. 
She did the same to him, feeling his warm skin press 
against hers. 
	They drew apart, her own dark violet eyes staring 
demurely at golden cat-eyes. 
	For so long she had been living in fear of herself, of 
what she was. Only in her darkest hours had her true self 
emerged. The entire Earth had almost been claimed in that 
hour of darkness. But now she was older, and saw the world 
in a different light. For a time she had been a literal 
child again, and then once more became the soldier of death 
and rebirth.
	That had been an hour darker than any before it, and 
if not for the compassion of the etherial, odango-haired 
blonde, they all would have perished forever. But that was 
in the past. Now the world was at peace, slowly 
rediscovering its lost magik. She was fast becoming a young 
woman, and learning about a new breed of magik. This was 
its world, its beauty.
	He stroked her cheek, smiling. "The Gathering will 
soon be upon us," he whispered. "A time when all darkpacks 
come together for the celestial howlsong, and you can 
become our queen. Have you chosen your Earthen familiar 
yet?"
	"Not yet," she answered. "But I will when I awake." 
	He closed one hand and then reopened it a moment 
later. In that moment which spanned but a heartbeat, the 
flower of a black rose was in his palm, the petals opened 
up to bloom.
	She closed her eyes, sighing as he caressed her face 
with the delicate petals of the rose. The petals brushed 
her forehead and then ran down along her nose, pausing 
briefly at her lips before continuing around her chin and 
down her neck. She shivered as the rose slid between her 
breasts and then was pulled away upon contacting the 
water's surface.
	"Okami-chan," she whispered.
	"Hotaru-sama," he breathed.
	And then someone else deliberately coughed.  
	They both whirled, and he placed himself defensively 
between her and the shore of the hotsprings, twin sets of 
vicious fangs suddenly jutting out from the corners of his 
mouth. 
	Two young women stared back at them with wry smiles. 
One was tall, wild sandy-blonde hair rustling in the 
breeze. The other, who had wavy aqua-green hair, was almost 
as tall but held a more refined aura.
	"I trust we're not interrupting," the tall sandy-
blonde said.
	"Perhaps it would be just as well if we had," the 
aqua-haired one remarked, if not chiding her. "What are you 
doing here, Hotaru-chan?" 
	The aggression in his eyes faded, and his fangs 
retracted. "You two always did know how to spoil a romantic 
moment," he remarked sourly. "Unless it was between 
yourselves."
	The wavy, aqua-haired woman regarded him curiously. 
"Have we met before?"
	He nodded, chuckling to himself.
	The two young women slowly turned as more Mystwolves 
emerged from the forest. Others they would have been ready 
to rip to shreds in a heartbeat, but they knew these two 
women to be friends and allies.
	"I never knew you were in the company of Mystwolves, 
Hotaru-chan," the aqua-haired woman said. 
	"They are my friends," she replied, smiling as he 
laced his arms around her neck. "I have travelled with them 
for many months now."
	"And who's he?" the sandy-blonde inquired.
	He chuckled, letting them see the glow of his golden 
cat-eyes. "Don't you know? Have you not already recognized 
my eyes? Or my fangs for that matter?"
	"Masaka," the sandy-blonde whispered. "He's a 
Mystwolf."
	"Enough teasing them," she said.
	"A Mystwolf for a boyfriend," the aqua-haired woman 
said with a smile, kneeling to pet one of the friendly 
Mystwolf cubs--and then glance down at the two in the 
hotsprings. "So what exactly are you doing in there with 
her?"
	"She started it," he countered. 
	"Who exactly are you anyways?" the tall sandy-blonde 
asked.
	"Would you like to do the introductions, Hotaru-chan," 
he inquired, glancing over to her with that playful glimmer 
in his eyes. "or shall I?" 
	She smiled shyly. "Ara. Haruka-poppa, Michiru-momma: I 
would like to introduce you to Okami. In this form he is 
human. In another form, he is Mystwolf."
	"I didn't know they could assume our form," the aqua-
haired woman said.
	"We Mystwolves are shape-shifters to a certain 
extent," he replied. "The leaders of the clans hold the 
highest level of magik among them, and with a darkpack's 
magik backing them up they can become human for a time."
	"Kind of makes you jealous, doesn't it?" the sandy-
blonde said to the aqua-haired woman. "What would you 
choose to become, Michiru?"
	She chuckled. "Depends on the mood you're in."
	The tall sandy-blonde cocked an eyebrow. "Is that an 
offer?"
	"And my time, at least, is running out," he abruptly 
spoke up. "I would like to spend that remaining time alone 
with Hotaru-chan."
	"Let's let them be," aqua-haired woman said to the 
tall, sandy-blonde. "I know that look of his all too well 
after seeing you give it enough times, Haruka."
	A few more moments passed with some knowing and stern 
glances cast in his direction, and they could tell that he 
understood enough what they meant. The two women ventured 
off into the forest, as did the darkpack, going their 
separate ways and leaving her again alone with him. 
	"Never a moment's peace," he growled, giving her a 
quick peck on the cheek and starting back to the shoreline 
of the hotsprings.
	She remained where she was, staring at where the two 
young women had gone into the forest. As much as she 
appreciated their loving protection, she wasn't a little 
girl anymore. In the prelude of it all, when Nehelenia's 
seal had been broken, she matured from a year-old baby into 
a twelve-year old girl to help them fight as Sailor Saturn. 
Ever since the purification of Galaxia, she had grown rapidly 
from twelve to sixteen in but a few months; that had been her 
original age once before.
	Everything had come full circle now.
	"I'm not a child anymore," she whispered, more to the 
air than to anyone else. Or was she whispering these words 
to herself as comfort for a life that had been violated by 
her world's magik?
	Abruptly something stung her eye, a pain that 
ricocheted throughout her skull. It lasted only a moment, 
and was gone all too quickly. However there was a strange 
sensation echoing in her body. Soon afterwards it too 
faded.
	"Strange," she said to herself. Most likely dust from 
the rock face high overhead.
	She glanced back and saw a Mystwolf body rising up 
from the hotsprings, vigorously shaking itself dry. The 
Mystwolf turned, and she saw his eyes watching over her. 
Wading over to the edge of the steaming waters, she pushed 
herself out of the hotspring and found the dry blanket she 
had left on the rocks.
	Wrapping the blanket around herself, she sat down upon 
the smooth face of the rock, the Mystwolf pacing around her 
before he too settled down, resting his head in her lap.
	"So strange that someone so deadly could be so 
gentle," she said quietly, stroking the wolf's fur. This 
elicited a content, growling purr from the ancient beast.
	Somewhere far off in the heart of the forest a chorus 
of haunting wolf cries were lifted up to celebrate the 
eternal moon. Very soon now all the Mystwolves would gather 
together, as they had once every century, to protect a 
newly chosen Darkqueen, their Empress.
	Now she was the chosen one.
	"Such a beautiful howlsong," she said, staring up at 
the midnight skies.
	The Mystwolf lifted his head, staring at her with 
those dedicated yet dangerous cat-eyes. He licked the side 
of her cheek and then withdrew, stalking around the 
hotspring before pausing atop the highest rock.
	"Okami?" she asked.
	And then he lifted his head and unleashed a howl that 
seemed to echo across the forest and its neighbouring 
plateaus. With his single howlsong a dozen more joined in, 
and then even more. She stood very still for a long time as 
she watched him proclaim with his haunting voice his 
dedication.
	The dream around her started to fade away, caught up 
in a cloud of grey mist that was taking her back to the 
world of the waking hours. She closed her eyes, 
surrendering back into a place where she would arise from a 
bed and be greeted by sunlight.
	In that final moment between sleeping and waking, she 
heard his voice once more. "I shall always protect you," he 
whispered. "Now and forever, my Darkqueen...."


	The masquerade wraith sat leisurely atop the brilliant 
crimson torii at the front of the Shinto temple grounds, 
one leg dangling over the edge of the gateway. At his lips, 
a delicate crystal flute was piping a beautiful melody.
	"He makes me nervous when he does that," the blue-
haired genius admitted, staring up at the wraith.
	"Meikyu's like a cat," the raven knight stated, 
sitting in the embrace the tall brunette. "I've yet to see 
him not land on his feet."
	The mid-December sun was beginning its descent into 
evening, a time for lovers and dreamers. Each one now had a 
beloved to call their own: the tall brunette and the raven 
angel, the long-haired blonde and the raven knight, the 
dark-haired shrine girl and the shrine protege--and the 
last of them all to find a boyfriend, a soulmate, the blue-
haired genius and the masquerade wraith.
	But before them all had been the odango-haired blonde 
and the dark-haired prince. These two had been destined in 
past, present and future to share a love that seemed to 
possess the very heart of all that was magik.
	The air around them was cool but mild enough for them 
to still be comfortably outside together, seating along the 
verandah of one of the shrine buildings. However in a few 
days this weather was liable to change, ushering in the 
possibility of snow and a season of both passion and 
compassion.
	"What do you want for Christmas, Minako-chan?" the 
raven knight asked of the long-haired blonde.
	"I know what I want!" the odango-haired blonde 
enthusiastically piped up. "A romantic dinner for two with 
Mamo-chan!"
	"Kishi was asking Minako, not you, Usagi," the dark-
haired shirne girl sighed, and then added, "Baka."
	The dark-haired prince gave an uneasy smile. "So long 
as I don't have to treat you all to Korean barbecue 
again...."
	Everyone shared in the laughter of the time, though 
the guardians of the Dreamworld could only exchange 
confused glances at a joke and an event that preceeded 
them. 
	"We have a visitor," Meikyu's voice abruptly 
announced.
	They all turned as a girl with a pale complexion and 
garments in shades of night walked beneath the crimson 
torii. The black against crimson hues made her pale skin 
all the more evident.
	"Hotaru-chan!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed with 
a smile.
	"Ohayo," she said, bowing slightly to them all.
	Meikyu leaned backwards and dropped off from the 
torii, flipping around and landing with perfect grace. Long 
strands of earthen brown hair flowed around the wraith in 
the descent. She stepped away as Meikyu landed in behind 
her, but all too quickly she saw this young man was of the 
Dreamworld too.
	"It's been a long time, Hotaru-chan," the tall 
brunette said warmly.
	The others all nodded.
	"We've missed your visits," the dark-haired shrine 
girl added.
	"How is Souchi-san?" the long-haired blonde inquired.
	"My father's well," she answered. She turned to the 
odango-haired blonde. "Usagi, may I speak with you in 
private?"
	The odango-haired blonde was surprised but nodded none 
the less. 
	"Daijobu," the dark-haired prince said. "I need to get 
home anyways; I have a paper to work on."
	After a chaste peck on each other's lips, the lovers 
excused themselves, the dark-haired prince leaving the 
Shinto shrine and the odango-haired blonde slipping through 
a fusama.
	She followed, closing shut the screen behind her.
	"Who is she?" Sora asked as she disappeared inside the 
room. For none of the Dreamworld guardians had ever 
witnessed the highest joys and darkest hours of the Sailor 
Senshi before, though they had felt the ripples within the 
dream realm.
	And so the girls shared with them the tales of the 
Outer Senshi, the most enigmatic and distant of them all. 
When they had finished with her tale of death and rebirth, 
all the guardians remained silent for a long time.


	"What is it, Hotaru-chan?" the odango-haired blonde 
asked as they settled into a room.
	She took another hard look at the girl seated across 
from her. Sometimes it was hard to think of the odango-
haired blonde as their future queen, full of elegance and 
compassion. Yet these virtues were revealed when all other 
hopes were lost. She owed her life to this girl.
	"Chibiusa-chan is not here in this time, is she?" she 
asked.
	"Gomen, but she's back in Crystal Tokyo," the odango-
haired blonde said, trying not to hurt her feelings. "I 
don't know if she's coming back anytime soon."
	Her deep violet eyes lowered to the wooden floor. 
"Oh."
	"Were you hoping to play together again?"
	It may have been an innocent question, but even still 
it caused her to clench a fist, controlling the 
frustration. They had seen her run through so many ages 
before, it was hard to think of her as a sixteen year-old. 
More than once she had licked her wounds in quiet as they 
treated her differently, as one younger than them.
	Evidently her quiet rage was picked up by the odango-
haired blonde, who wore a look of concern for her.
	"Hotaru-chan?" 
	"Hai," she answered, staring back at the odango-haired 
blonde with as much defiance as she dared possible for 
someone like this girl. Yet her harsh gaze softened; she 
could never stay angry at the odango-haired blonde. It was 
a wonder if anyone could for a soul who cared so much about 
everyone else. 
	"I've met someone in the Dreamworld," she began.
	The odango-haired blonde seemed to forget about that 
last moment of uneasiness, suddenly alive and excited and 
talking in a loud voice.
	"Sugoi! Hotaru-chan has a boyfriend?" 
	She blushed slightly. 
	"You are in love!" the odango-haired blonde sighed 
romantically. "So who is he? Another guardian?"
	She shook her head, laughing quietly at the girl's 
exuberance. "His name is Okami."
	"Okami," the odango-haired blonde said, trying out the 
name. "Sounds very mysterious. I can't wait to meet him."
	She smiled shyly, nodding. It felt awkward getting all 
this attention. Especially what she was about to ask. 
"Usagi-san, I have a request to make: tonight Okami and his 
kind will make me their Empress, their Darkqueen. They 
wished that I bring someone from our world to bear witness 
to the ceremony. And since Chibiusa-chan is not here--"
	"You want me to do it?" the odango-haired blonde 
exclaimed, beaming with pride. Suddenly the odango-haired 
blonde wrapped her up in an embrace. "Arigato gozaimasu! 
You've made Usagi very honoured!"
	At first she was startled at such an emotional 
outburst, but them smiled, and even returned the sentiment. 
"No, Usagi," she said quietly. "Thank you."


	It was forever the midnight hour inside the 
Dreamworld, and tonight the forest of one kingdom seemed 
alive more than ever before, teeming with excited magik. 
The Gathering was almost at hand.
	She smiled as she saw the odango-haired blonde come 
into being, looking around for directions. "Komban wa, 
Usagi," she said. Her robes of dark black were sparkling 
from the parade of moonbeams puncturing through the forest 
ceiling. Numerous billowing sashes of glistening silver 
fluttered around her body as if possessed with their own 
souls to dance.
	The odango-haired blonde laughed sheepishly. "Gomen, 
Hotaru-chan! I was so excited I couldn't fall asleep!"
	Some things never seemed to change.
	"The Gathering is almost at hand," she informed the 
odango-haired blonde. "Come, Usagi; the ceremony is down 
this path, through the clearing."
	She led the way, taking her time; her physical body 
was forever at a disadvantage, for while she possessed a 
gift of the healing touch, that energy was transferred from 
her own body.
	"Where are we going?"
	"The valley of the Myst," she answered. "We are 
already close to the heart of this kingdom. It is their 
domain, almost lost within the borders of our two worlds."
	"Oh, that's right!" the odango-haired blonde 
exclaimed. "I was so excited I forgot to ask: who exactly 
wants you to become their queen?"
	"The Mystwolves," she answered.
	"Na ni?!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, 
completely taken aback. "Y-you're going to be 
their...they're going to make you...your boyfriend is 
a...."
	She laughed. "Daijobu, Usagi. They are quite gentle 
around those they trust. And tonight you are my guest." She 
paused, glancing down at the grass path beneath their feet. 
"I...I want to thank you again, Usagi. You don't know how 
much this means to me."
	The odango-haired blonde smiled, clasping their hands 
together. "Everything will turn out fine, Hotaru-chan."
	And then something swept past them, a biting gale that 
ushered with it a hideous sensation of dread and cold fear. 
A thousand primal screams washed past her ears.
	She was frozen, rooted to the ground at her feet, eyes 
wide and trembling in terror over what she had felt and 
heard. A chorus of dying howls had been lifted up to the 
eternal moon and then savagely silenced.
	The odango-haired blonde glanced over at her. "Did you 
feel that?"
	She nodded, a shiver running down her spine. But what 
frightened her more was that she knew what made such a cry 
to the heavens of this realm.
	"Okami," she whispered, stepping forward.
	That one step became a run, and even though her body 
could never handle such physical stress she pushed herself 
forward. One time she stumbled, only to be caught in the 
arms of the odango-haired blonde.
	Even though minutes passed, they felt like hours upon 
nights to her before they saw the emerging light where the 
Gathering was to take place. Here the forest canopy opened 
up into a great plain adorned with broken ruins claimed by 
the Mystwolves. Many times she had been there and felt at 
peace. Now she feared even drawing nearer after what she 
had just felt.
	She forced herself to step closer to the opening, to 
the place where the Gathering was to be. This was to be the 
place for her inauguration.
	And then her senses beheld the fate of these 
creatures.
	Her eyes widened as she saw the clearing. Blood and 
gore was spread across the grass and splattered across the 
trees and plants. Her mouth opened to whisper something, 
anything, but her voice was choked and she could only 
listen her own frantic breathing.
	The Mystwolves had met with a truly vicious end.
	"Hotaru-chan...." the odango-haired blonde whispered 
hoarsely.
	Not one she saw was alive, or even had a chance at 
possible survival. Even mothers and their young were laying 
dead, sprawled out beyond the rows of slain wolfen hunters. 
Their bodies were as far as she could see, dismantled and 
decorated with blood. Some had been torn apart savagely, 
their organs spilled out before their broken bodies. 
	So much horror. The smell of blood, urine and fear was 
thick in the air. This was ultimately the scent of death, 
something that made her shiver. So much blood. So many 
bodies. This had to have been every last Mystwolf that ever 
roamed the Dreamworld. They had all come together for this 
one night to celebrate the Gathering, to make her their 
Darkqueen. And now they were all dead.
	"Okami...." she managed to say in a strangled voice.
	It would be impossible to find him amidst all these 
corpses and blood-ridden grounds. Some Mystwolves were only 
stains of blood or matted tangles of fur and intestines. 
Even if she did find him, did she want to find him here?
	The tears were starting to run, though not 
specifically out of sadness or fear. She was at a loss for 
coping with the gruesome sight before her. The odango-
haired blonde wrapped her up in a desperate embrace, 
already lost to tears and sadness. 
	"Why?" she cried to her princess. 
	Then she heard the faint whimpering of a child wolf. 
Her deep violet eyes found a bundle of fur that was still 
moving, stirring as it was painfully roused by her 
presence. She took a reluctant step into the fresh 
graveyard, searching out for a Mystwolf who may have 
survived.
	She knelt down next to the body of a mother, and found 
at the mother's side a tiny Mystwolf cub. It looked at her 
with its saddened cat-eyes of gold, its tiny body shivering 
from the cold. She could see the pain in the cub's eyes, 
the blood dripping from its mouth and soaked into its 
matted skin.
	Her heart nearly broke in two.
	She moved out her hand to touch the Mystwolf child. 
Her power could give this cub a chance at surviving. But as 
he fingers stretched out the cub's whimper ceased, and it 
eyes slowly closed for the last time.
	"Iie," she whispered, desperate. 
	No. Not this. 
	She touched the cub, nudging it with her hand. But it 
did not move of its own life or breath. 
	"Hotaru-chan," the odango-haired blonde said quietly, 
reaching out to gently touch her, to comfort her. But she 
recoiled, slapping away the hand and glaring at the odango-
haired blonde with frantic eyes.
	"Iie!" she cried out, her voice growing louder with 
each time she said it. "IIE! IIE!!!"
	A blur of silver suddenly exploded in between them, 
and she stumbled backwards, startled. The odango-haired 
blonde cried out in fright. 
	It was a Mystwolf, the only visible one left alive. 
Two glowing, slitted eyes narrowed as they fixated on her, 
and suddenly she recognized those two eyes. Once they had 
looked at her with love and dedication.
	The Mystwolf lowered his head and sniffed at the 
mother and cub, curling the edges of his lips to reveal the 
deadly twin pairs of savage fangs.
	"Okami," she whispered.
	In a very low growl, he spoke two nearly inaudible 
words: "Get out." 
	There was nothing else left for her here, and the true 
terror was seizing control of her mind and body with each 
passing second. She could not face this any longer. She 
turned and fled, terrified by what she saw. The dam burst, 
and hot tears flowed down her cheeks. The odango-haired 
blonde gave chase after her, calling out her name.
	"Hotaru-chan! Hotaru-chan!"
	And then his sorrowful cries reached her ears as she 
ran away, a single lonely howl lifted up the heavens of the 
Dreamworld. 
	He was singing a requiem.
	She finally stopped running inside the forest, her 
breaths coming in frantic, irregular gasps as her mind and 
body lost all their power and will to carry her forward one 
step more. Her weight shifted, her stance wobbling. And 
then she fell, though the odango-haired blonde caught her.
	"Iie!" she sobbed, burying her face into the odango-
haired blonde's gown. Her strength left her, and she 
collapsed. 
	"Hotaru-chan!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, 
catching her and helping her down onto the forest floor. 
She curled up into the odango-haired blonde's grip, and 
then felt a teardrop strike her own face.
	Her princess was crying too, but was still trying to 
be there for her tears. "Usagi-san," she whispered.
	But the odango-haired blonde could say nothing else, 
and she could see that both their hearts were torn apart by 
what they had just witnessed. Such fragile and beautiful 
life mercilessly destroyed.
	And so the odango-haired blonde held her there as she 
cried, and she became lost in her sadness, unaware even 
when she stopped crying or slipped away into her own realm.


	She awoke in the dead of night, huddled up and still 
crying. But she felt a warm body next to her; it was that 
of the odango-haired blonde. Her princess has stayed with 
her all through the night, even when the time came to cross 
back over to their world.
	With weary eyes the odango-haired blonde managed a 
weak smile. "Hotaru-chan, you're awake."
	Neither of them had reverted to their nightgowns; 
their robes from the ceremony still remained. She gripped 
the odango-haired blonde's dress tighter, trying to curl 
herself into her princess' caring embrace.
	The memories returned to haunt her, and she saw all 
those in the Dreamworld she had ever cared about, those who 
had cared for her, die cruelly. Had Okami deserted her too 
now?
	It was still too much for her.
	"Hold me, please, Usagi-san," she whispered. "Just 
hold me for a little while longer." The tears started to 
flow again. "I just need someone to hold me...."


	The morning of a December Sunday had already crept 
across the city, and many souls awoke from their sleep 
refreshed and smiling at the world they knew. Yet the new 
morning brought only uneasiness as a group of souls with 
unique magik came together.
	The dark-haired shrine girl was standing next to the 
shrine protege, watching as the raven knight and the long-
haired blonde entered the Shinto temple grounds. 
	"Did you feel that last night?" the raven knight asked 
uneasily.
	"It was as if a thousand cries were lifted up into the 
skies before they were suddenly silenced," the dark-haired 
shrine girl stated, visibly chilled not by the weather but 
by the dream.
	The shrine protege glanced around the temple grounds. 
"But what makes a cry like that?" 
	"Someone from the Dreamworld," came a new voice. The 
masquerade wraith, arm over the shoulders of the blue-
haired genius, walked beneath the torii. Beside the couple 
was the raven angel and the tall brunette, the first of 
them all to experience the magik of two worlds.
	"What does it all mean?" the tall brunette asked.
	They all turned as the odango-haired blonde slowly 
walked beneath the crimson torii, not quite aware of all 
the actions any of them were making--not even herself. The 
sadness was evident in their princess' face, and the girls 
helped the odango-haired blonde inside to a warmer room.
	"Usagi-chan?" the long-haired blonde asked, concerned.
	And so the odango-haired blonde told them of what she 
had seen. Before the account could be finished, the 
princess broke down in tears and sobs. The others rushed to 
aid the odango-haired blonde, but the guardians of the 
Dreamworld looked to each other with grim uneasiness.
	For whoever had the power to kill the firstborns of 
their realm, their Dreamworld, was an evil that perhaps 
they might not even be able to destroy.


	Across the city the midnight December winds were 
blowing, though not as tempests or gusts. This was a gentle 
breeze, but cold enough to chill the body. All around the 
bright lights of the cityscape turned the night into a 
spectacular display of darkness and daylight.
	On the outskirts of a park evening mist began to 
billow out from the heart of the trees, tracing its way 
around the base of the trunks and over the grasses until it 
reached fencing and sidewalk, and then asphalt road.
	Another pocket of wind stirred the mists, and a cloud 
arose from the heart of the trees, beams of moonlight 
giving it eerie shades of grey. A shadow began to emerge, 
and very quickly the silhouette stepped out onto the 
sidewalk, mist trailing out around his feet.
	He was dressed in strange clothes, and held about him 
an exotic and dangerous aura. He was not one to be trifled 
with, nor underestimated. A black choker was around his 
neck. Chiselled muscles visibly outlined his chest for 
beneath the open jacket he wore was a billowy black shirt 
with a low neckline that curved beneath his pecks.
	He glanced up at the moon in its crescent glory of the 
night, its beams catching his blazing golden eyes. Slitted 
eyes of a cat. The winds arose once more, and his wild 
silver hair danced at their whim. Yet he did not feel the 
cold in the December air.
	"So this is her world," the stranger remarked. His 
voice was low, slightly guttural with what might have been 
a purr or a growl edged in.
	With one step he began to stalk across the street, 
savouring the cool winds of Tokyo. His aura was thriving on 
the approaching midnight hours, and he smiled savagely. 
Twin sets of fangs protruded from the corners of his lips, 
silver and glistening.
	He whirled as lights suddenly caught his crouched 
form, and the roar of a car engine reached his ears. A low 
growl escaped his lips as he saw the yellow convertible 
charging down towards him.
	But he was not like a deer. Instead he waited, 
watching as the car grew larger in his vision. At the last 
possible second he sprang into the air, the ground leaving 
his feet. His leap was like a raven's flight, soaring high 
and disappearing into the trees.
	The covertible veered sharply in trying to avoid 
smashing into his agile form, and he was all but gone as 
the sports car spun around and lurched to a stop, leaving 
black skid marks on the road.
	The two passengers inside undid their seatbelts and 
pushed off the seats, staring up at the crescent moon that 
had claimed his shadowy form.
	"What in the hell was that?" the driver exclaimed, 
running a hand through her short sandy-blonde hair. She 
turned to her passenger, a young woman with wavy aqua-green 
hair. "Did you see it?"
	The passenger shook her head, unsure of her senses. "I 
don't know. It looked...it looked human."
	"Shimatta," the sandy-blonde said. "I don't like 
this."
	They both slowly turned as a dark, sinister chuckle 
came from behind. Crouched low on top of the convertible's 
trunk was he, two golden eyes staring back at them with 
dark delight.
	"Ara ara," he said, his voice smooth but low and edged 
with a dangerous laugh. "Haruka-san. Michiru-san. Fancy 
meeting you two here."
	Their eyes widened as they recognized him.
	"Masaka!" aqua-green haired one exclaimed.
	"What are you doing here?" the tall sandy blonde 
snapped.
	He smiled, letting his fangs glistening silver in the 
moonlight. "I think I'm going to like it here after all."
	And then he was gone again, springing from the 
convertible and leaping onto a nearby rooftop. The two 
young women barely caught sight of his form disappearing.
	The tall, sandy blonde slowly turned to her companion. 
"I don't like this, Michiru."
	"Since when have you liked any of this?" the aqua-
haired one inquired.
	The sandy-blonde grinned. "If it wasn't for any of 
this, I would never have met you." Her gaze returned to the 
silhouette of the city. "We had better find him, and fast."


	She walked through the park alone, quiet and distant 
in her thoughts. On most other nights she enjoyed 
retreating here to be in solitude. For a long time she had 
been the outsider, scorned and feared by those who saw her 
healing magik.
	A few solitary leaves remained on the trees, and a 
number of them were floating in the breeze down at her 
feet. On most other nights she found comfort in the beauty 
of the world around her. But not tonight. More than 
anything she wanted her surrogate parents to pick her up 
earlier than usual.
	And then she heard a new legion of footsteps rapidly 
approaching her. She turned and found herself being 
encircled by people she knew only by perhaps a reputation, 
people she cared not to associate with. Bullies, gangs, 
arrogant and scornful of her; sometimes she had wished to 
summon the Mystwolves and have the entire Darkpack chase 
them for a few hours.
	But the Mystwolves were dead.
	The grim fact had the melancholy return to her face.
	"Aw, the little girl's sad," one of them taunted.
	She backed away, glaring at them but frightened none 
the less. For though she was sixteen soon to be seventeen, 
this gang held members who looked seventeen if not 
eighteen. And none of them were her friends.
	"Hey, little girl," the leader, laughing cruelly. "Why 
don't you want to play with us?"
	The man reached out to touch her cheek.
	"Leave me alone!" she shouted, smacking the leader's 
hand away from her. 
	Her glares told them enough; she was in no mood to be 
pushed. This glare had been constructed with a hundred 
painful memories of classmates taunting her years ago, 
going out of their way to cause her pain. So she had 
withdrawn and in doing so made certain they never had a 
chance to inflict pain upon her fragile form. She never 
wanted to show her true sadness, her weakness in being an 
outcast. And so she let them know when she was not to be 
pushed around.
	Yet this gang seemed to want to push regardless.
	"You damn bitch," the leader exclaimed.
	A few made steps to advance on her, encircling her on 
one side. She didn't care if they were hostile towards who 
she was; what she had witnessed was burned into her mind, 
just another memory she never wanted.
	"I told you," she shouted. "to leave me alone!"
	"You heard the lady," a new voice growled.
	They turned and saw a strange young man crouched atop 
a tree branch overhead, someone foolish enough to challenge 
them alone. But she saw the moonlight strike his familiar 
face. 	
	Her eyes widened. "Okami!" she exclaimed.
	"Who the hell are you?" one punk snapped.
	He smiled wickedly, displaying a twin set of fangs in 
his mouth. "No one of consequence if you leave now. But if 
you choose to stay, the remainder of this encounter will 
become...unpleasant."
	"Do we look like we give a shit?" one teen retorted
	He hissed, opening his fists and splaying his fingers. 
Each perfectly manicured nail suddenly became a savage, 
black claw unsheathed. Whatever patience he had summoned to 
control his rage was now lost.
	"To hell with this," he snarled, lunging off the 
branch for the nearest person. "To hell with you all!"
	Even though this was a girl, he did not care, striking 
the teen in the chest with enough force to lift the body 
off the ground and send the girl tumbling across the grass. 
He whirled, springing into the air once more.
	He landed in the middle of them all, placing himself 
between her and the gang. He hissed, displaying his fangs. 
"Who's next?" he asked savagely.
	They all converged on him as one. With a chilling 
battle cry he in turn charged at them, flinging as many as 
he could across the grass or onto the closest tree. One man 
produced a switchblade and jabbed it at him.
	"Okami!" she exclaimed.
	He gave an enraged growl through clenched teeth as the 
blade sank deep into his shoulder. With a vicious slash he 
swatted the assailant aside.
	The young man screamed, clutching a bloodied arm.
	He slowly turned, drawing his hand away from his 
shoulder. The knife was in his grip, dripping with his 
blood. Raising the blade to his lips, he ran his tongue 
down one side, savouring his own taste.
	The leader was the only one left standing, and she 
could see that this teenager was terrified. "What in the 
hell are you?" the man exclaimed.
	Suddenly he whirled, launching the knife at another 
gang member who was struggling to rise. The blade sank 
pinned the boy's hand to a tree trunk, and the teen 
screamed.
	He lunged for the leader of the gang, both arms 
seizing the boy and crashing them both against a tree. "I 
could crush your throat right here," he snarled, eyes 
blazing with the soul of a deadly wolf.
	"Please!" the young man cried, choking out the words. 
"Don't kill me! Oh god, don't kill me!!"
	He snarled, licking his fangs with his tongue. "I gave 
you but one chance to leave--a first for me. But I shall 
never give second chances." He leaned into the teen's face, 
slowly opening his mouth to let the fangs protrude and inch 
ever so closer to the man's throat. Within his eyes was 
every intention on giving only the mercy of a quick death.
	"Don't kill me," the teenager cried, tears streaming 
down a bloodied face.	
	The eyes flashed in a pure thirst for vengeance as he 
held the thug's neck in place. "My huntbrothers asked for 
that, and received only death. So death I give unto 
you...Shin'ne."
	"No!" she screamed. "Okami, please! Stop!"
	His head snapped to her direction, his eyes narrowing 
as he closed his jaw and retreated from the young man's 
neck. He was staring at her, waiting for an explanation.
	"Yamete," she pleaded. "Don't do this, Okami. They are 
not your enemy."
	As guilty as they were, these were merely arrogant 
children caught in the wrong place with the wrong enemies. 
She knew that he was venting his rage over losing his kind. 
But this was not like him.
	A part of his eyes flickered, recalling the partial 
humanity he possessed as a Mystwolf. That there were 
emotions beyond hatred, rage and vengeance. That there was 
another reason for him to live.
	He nodded to her. "As you wish."
	The grip around the young man's neck was lost, the 
teen collapsing to the ground and gasping for air. He 
stalked away from them until he was by her side. Then his 
glare returned to those who had threatened her.
	"You're not worth the effort," he snarled at them. "I 
have met hobgoblins that showed more courage than you. But 
if you so much as touch this girl again, the next time we 
meet I won't be so...merciful."
	And to emphasize his point he snarled once more, 
stretching open his jaws to display the lethal fangs. His 
eyes were caught in the moonlight, and those fallen before 
him saw his blazing gold eyes.
	The teens stumbled away with whatever was left of 
their pride and bodies. One cried in clutching their hand, 
the blade pulled out of the tree but left in their palm. 
Slowly they disappeared into the shadows.
	With the adrenaline leaving his body, now the pain set 
in fiercer than he could have recalled it being. He dropped 
to his knees, grimacing as he clutched his wounded 
shoulder.
	She tried to help but he pushed her away.
	"I'm fine," he stated.
	She reached out again, and this time he did not resist 
as she gently placed her fingers on his body. "Please," she 
said, touching his shoulder.
	She closed her eyes and summoned her magik.
	His eyes widened and he hissed as a warm sensation 
shot through his entire chest, radiating out from the 
shoulder. Every nerve felt like it was on edge and ignited. 
He fought well against the urge to squirm and escape; that 
would only do more damage than healing.
	Abruptly the pain stopped, leaving his shoulder numb. 
But the gaping wound was sealed; not even a scar remained. 
He smiled as he tested his arm.
	"Arigato, Hotaru-chan," he said. He smile faded as she 
seemed to grow paler than before, and collapsed into his 
arms.
	"Hotaru-chan!" he exclaimed. "Hotaru-chan!"
	"Daijobu," she whispered, smiling weakly at him. 
"Whenever I heal someone, it drains much of my own energy."
	He propped her seated form against his own, holding 
her tightly as if afraid that if he let go he might lose 
her forever. "I never thought you would get into trouble 
like that, Hotaru," he remarked.
	"I'm sorry about your shoulder," she said. "Usually 
when I heal it is a painless ritual."
	"I am far from a resident in your world," he answered, 
tilting her face up to his. "Your magik has different 
reactions when met with mine."
	He leaned down and gently kissed her lips. There was a 
passion shared between them, and she felt her strength 
return with his touch, his warmth tingling all through her 
mind, her breasts, her legs.
	Slowly they drew apart. "I thought I had lost you 
there in the valley," he whispered. "I don't want to ever 
go through that hell again."
	"Okami," came another voice.
	He slowly lifted his head, though did not appear as 
much on the defensive as before. She was thankful; she 
recognized that voice, and didn't want him engaging in 
unnecessary battle.
	Two silhouetted figures stood before them.
	"You move fast," one said. It was a woman's voice, and 
a very cold voice at that. But it was one he knew well 
enough to identify without being able to see the face that 
went with it.
	"I'm impressed you found me so quickly, Haruka-san," 
he remarked.
	"My mirror shows me everything, even those hidden 
behind illusions and shadows," the aqua-haired woman said. 
"Your presence is unlike anything I've ever seen; the 
mirror picked you up right away."
	"We're the only creatures save the ghosts who can 
freely cross over," he said with a chuckle.
	"Why are you here anyways?" Michiru asked. "This 
arrival really doesn't seem to concern the Mystwolves at 
all."
	His eyes grew cold, though not towards them. She held 
his hand, felt his grip tighten. That fear of losing her 
was returning. She could sense it.
	"Something has come from the Dreamworld to Earth," he 
stated solemnly. "And before it came here, it slaughtered 
not only my darkpack, but every last of my kind that ever 
roamed our realm. No one was spared save me."
	The two young women exchanged glances. 
	"That chilling cry from last night's dream," the 
sandy-blonde murmured.
	"I'm sorry," the aqua-haired woman said quietly.
	"Feel pity for the creature who did this," he snarled. 
"It will visit hell in its final breaths as I tear it to 
pieces and scatter its blood across both worlds. I am the 
only Mystwolf left now. I alone am left to exact my 
revenge." 
	"It can't be a Shadowdemon," the tall, sandy-blonde 
said. "Karasu told us they were confined to the Dreamworld. 
Raven angels are the same way unless there is 
intervention."
	"Maybe it's a Bogeyman," the aqua-haired one 
countered.
	He shook his head. "No, not Bogeyman nor hobgoblin nor 
Shadowdemon. This one moves differently. This one smells 
differently. This...is something new."
	He chuckled bitterly, his laughter low and dangerous. 
Every part that looked human was countered by the very wolf 
essence that shone through his eyes and reflected through 
his actions. "It fell upon the Darkpacks, and there was 
nothing I could do to stop it."
	"It wasn't your fault," she said, trying to comfort 
him, to let her be to him what the odango-haired blonde had 
been to her in that lonely and dark hour.
	The sandy-blonde turned to the aqua-haired woman. 
"This could be a very clever trap. Can Karasu verify this?"
	"The Wanderer has disappeared again like the ghost he 
is," he cut in, his voice still possessing that wolf-like 
growl. "He could be in the volcano's underground catacombs 
for all I know. He doesn't carry a scent like the other 
creatures."
	"We should find the others," the aqua-haired woman 
said. "Perhaps the guardians can help in identifying this 
new enemy."
	"Where do you think we should start?" the sandy blonde 
inquired.
	"We can all meet at Rei's shrine," she said weakly. 
"That is where they usually come together regardless."
	"My car's just at the edge of the park," the sandy-
blonde said, kneeling down next to her with an outstretched 
hand. "I'll carry you there, Hotaru-chan."
	"No!" he snapped, gripping the sandy-blonde's wrist. 
	His sudden hostility took the women aback. He slowly 
rose to his feet, helping her up before scooping her up in 
his arms. In her weakened condition she could do little to 
protest. 
	"I will carry her," he stated. 


	She had regained most of her strength by the time the 
convertible was nearing the grounds of the Shinto shrine. 
The aqua-haired woman had contacted the others, who were 
also on their way. 	
	She felt his fingers brush away some bangs of raven 
dark hair away from her face as she gazed down into her 
lap. He was leaning closer to her, and placed his other 
hand on top of hers.
	"Okami-chan," she said. "I want to thank you for what 
you did earlier tonight."
	At the wheel, the sandy-blonde glanced at them in the 
backseat through the rear-view mirror.
	"I used to live for my clan," he said quietly. "for my 
huntbrothers and sisters. Now they are gone, and in their 
place is a vendetta I have sworn to exact."
	There were no tears in his eyes, though she could look 
into his soul and witness the pain he was crying through. 
He had mourned already, and it had now passed.
	"All I have left is you, Hotaru-chan," he stated. "You 
alone are my only reason for existing now. You were ready 
to become our Darkqueen. I ask you now to take up the title 
and the honour. And I swear that my every breath shall be 
dedicated to protecting you."
	She held her breath, staring into his golden eyes. He 
tilted his head, slowly closing his eyes in the hopes of 
once again kissing her. She gently placed her palm on his 
cheek, guiding him closer. And then he jerked back, his 
slitted eyes flashing in the streetlight.
	"Wait!" he snapped. "It's here. I can smell it!"
	He released his restraint, standing up.
	"Okami, will you sit down?" the tall, sandy-blonde 
exclaimed, slowing the car down.
	"It's laying in wait for another attack," he snarled. 
"I won't let it happen again. This time it's mine!"
	Suddenly he was catapulted from the moving vehicle of 
his own magik, soaring past the convertible and landing 
upon the stone dividers that marked the tiered landscape. 
	"Okami!" she called out, straining to see him. All she 
found was a brief shadow that threw itself into the tangle 
of trees and disappeared.
	"Okami!" the sandy-blonde exclaimed angrily. 
"Shimatta. We have to put a leash on that guy."
	"I think he would simply chew through it," the aqua-
haired one replied. 


	They walked together, arm in arm, towards the sign 
proclaiming: FIRE RIVE TEMPLE. The long-haired blonde 
sighed contently, leaning against the shoulder of the raven 
knight.
	"Strange getting a call to come to the temple so late 
at night," he mulled. "And by Michiru-san of all people."
	"You know what they say, Ki-chan," she said with a 
vivacious smile. "Absence of your heart will kill you!"
	With a sigh, the raven knight said, "That's 'absence 
makes the heart grow fonder', Minako-chan."
	The she giggled, embarrassed.
	Abruptly Kishi paused, turning back at the empty 
street as if searching something out amidst the deserted 
road and its shadows.
	"Ki-chan?" she asked.
	Sapphire eyes narrowed. "There's something out here."
	Suddenly a volley of violet light exploded from the 
darkness, striking Kishi in the chest. The long-haired 
blonde cried out as he was sent crashing into the stone 
wall, held in place and continually being pushed further 
into the rock.
	He gasped as the stones shattered more, blood dripping 
from the cuts all across his body. Beneath matted bangs of 
moss green hair, two sapphire eyes narrowed. 
	"Mi...na...ko," he gasped.
	Laughter filled the air. It was a woman's laughter, 
harsh and evil, laced with desires of death and 
destruction. A bizarre silhouette emerged, pulsating with 
dark violet hues, advancing towards Kishi.
	 "How ironic," a woman's voice remarked. "that the 
turncoat demon will be the first."
	"Stop!" she shouted. Magik had transformed a regular 
outfit into a sailor battle fuku, and bestowed unto the 
long-haired blonde ancient powers of another life. 
	"I am the soldier of love and justice," she exclaimed. 
"I will not have you hurting my boyfriend just when we were 
getting romantic! I am Sailor Venus!"
	The woman turned, and two eyes of hatred glared at 
her. "I remember you," the voice hissed. 
	Suddenly another attack struck the long-haired blonde, 
throwing her into the side of a parked car. The windows 
shattered, the car's frame--and guardrail in front of it-
dented upon collision. The long-haired blonde whimpered, 
collapsing onto the sidewalk, head hung low.
	The woman's form began to become more defined, long 
strands of dark hair billowing out in the night winds. The 
spectre moved towards Kishi, a hand opening up towards him.
	"What...are you?" the raven knight demanded through 
gasps of air.
	The guardian was only met with laughter. "First you 
shall die. And then your soulmate with the blonde hair 
shall follow you."
	Kishi let out a silent scream, forcefully ejected from 
the wall and hurled across the sidewalk into the guardrail 
as well, the raven knight falling at the feet of the long-
haired blonde.
	Both were breathing, but still.
	The woman laughed cruelly. "Pathetic fools."
	And then something exploded through the air, striking 
the ground mere inches from the woman's body. The pulsating 
aura whisked the woman away to a safer distance as the 
sidewalk blew like a geyser of stones and magik.
	It rained down dust and rock shards as a young man 
slowly lifted his hand from the epicentre of the crater and 
rose from his crouched stance. Two slitted cat's eyes 
flashed at the woman.
	"Your fight is against me, you bitch," he snarled, his 
 tongue running along his fangs.
	"Mystwolf," the woman's voice hissed.
	He crouched low, his body arching. "I will never let 
you hurt Hotaru-sama." 
	"Baka," the woman snapped. "You would have been safer 
back in the Dreamworld."
	He was knocked aside by a blast of magik, crashing 
into a telephone pole. That barely even seemed to faze him; 
a second later he lunged for the woman's shadowy form. Yet 
he was met with nothing. Whirling he saw the spectre 
looming over the raven knight and the long-haired blonde.
	"To make Hotaru feel pain, I do not have to touch her 
right now."
	He hissed, unsheathing his claws. "Touch them, and it 
will be the last thing you ever do."
	Suddenly he was hurled backwards, smashing into the 
wall. The crushing force pushed him further into the stone, 
threatening to have his body implode. With an enraged howl 
he fought but was held back.
	The shadow of the woman cackled once more, reaching 
out for the head of the long-haired blonde. "Sayonara, Aino 
Minako."
	And then came a new attacks:
	"Jupiter Oak Evolution!"
	The woman's form rippled with dark energy as the magik 
struck. Seconds later the frothing blade of a scythe tried 
to cleave the spectre in half. The shadowy silhouette 
dissipated, but was not destroyed. Instead only that same 
harsh laughter was left to echo across the street.
	He grunted as the crushing grip on his body was 
released, and he fell onto his knees. Slowly he stared up 
at those who had intervened.
	The tall brunette stood there, ready to launch another 
attack. And only a few steps away was the masquerade 
wraith, the Tsunami scythe poised for a second strike. And 
there were others too, converging upon this place.
	"Okami-chan!" a familiar voice cried out.
	His eyes found her racing up to him, embracing him. He 
wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Her hair 
still smelled of the hotsprings where they had met for many 
nights in another realm. 
	"Don't you ever do that again," she scolded.
	He glanced past her, to the couple injured before he 
could arrive. A grim silence reigned over them all.
	The dark-haired shrine girl grimaced, gently touching 
the bloodied face of the long-haired blonde. "We need to 
take them inside immediately."


	She felt her stomach tightening up as the dark-haired 
shrine girl and the shrine protege emerged from the private 
room. Inside the long-haired blonde and the raven knight 
were recovering.
	"They'll survive," the shrine protege said. "But they 
were both busted up pretty badly. Whatever attacked did so 
with no hesitation or mercy."
	They were all in an adjoining room now, seated and 
staring at each other. The odango-haired blonde was finding 
comfort in the arms of the dark-haired prince. The raven 
angel was kneeling on the floor next to the tall brunette, 
their hands clasped together. The blue-haired genius was 
but a few steps from the masquerade wraith, who had opened 
another fusama and was staring out at the Shinto shrine 
grounds. Apart from everyone else, the sandy blonde and the 
aqua-haired woman leaned against different sides of a 
wooden beam, arms crossed over their chests. 
	She, though, was like the odango-haired blonde, 
seeking refuge in the arms of her Mystwolf. She felt warm 
in his arms, strangely though comfortably distant from all 
this. He was her only sanctuary, and by his own words he 
had sworn to protect her.
	"First the Mystwolves, and now us," the tall brunette 
said. "It's attacking everyone we value most."
	"No," he countered, his eyes fixating on her. "It's 
attacking everyone she values most. The first pain it 
wishes her to feel is the pain of her friends."
	"Then this is personal," the sandy-blonde stated. 
"Someone wants Hotaru to feel genuine torture."
	She shuddered, staring down at the floor. This was all 
her fault, then. She squeezed his hand, and smiled despite 
her tension when he shifted his body to become like a 
second skin around her.
	"But what could hold such a hatred towards her, and 
still possess enough magik to cross between worlds?" the 
raven angel asked. "Has anyone ever felt this aura before?"
	The masquerade wraith walked over to her, extending a 
hand. "Okami, is there anything you can tell us about it 
from your fight."
	Coldly he slapped the hand away, hissing.
	"Hey," the masquerade wraith snapped. "I'm only trying 
to help, Okami. It's after us too and I for one am not 
going to just simply let it come."
	He seemed to bristle defensively, though said nothing 
in response. She felt his grip around her protectively 
tighten, and reached back to touch his cheek as he nestled 
his head into the base of her neck.
	The masquerade wraith turned away, moving towards the 
open partition that would take them to the December night.
	"Where are you going, Meikyu?" the odango-haired 
blonde asked.
	Meikyu cracked a dark smile. "Hunting."
	"Wait!" the blue-haired genius exclaimed, racing up to 
the wraith. "Meikyu, you don't have to do this. Please, 
don't do this."
	"Daijobu, Ami-chan," Meikyu said caressing the blue-
haired genius' cheek. "I've always come back, haven't I?"
	She held her breath as abruptly her Mystwolf released 
her, and rose. 
	"I shall go with you," he said, surprising everyone.
	"Okami-chan," she whispered. "Neither of you have to 
do this." Her eyes trembled at the thought of being alone 
again, of being left to pain and sadness. 
	"Look," the masquerade wraith stated. "Either we 
search this thing out now, or it will attack us one by one 
until it gets to Hotaru...or Ami-chan." Meikyu turned to 
him. "I would be honoured to hunt with a Mystwolf, Okami-
san. Let's kill it together."
	He stalked past the wraith. "No. Only I kill it. You 
can wound it all you like, but I shall be the one who kills 
it."
	"As you like," Meikyu said, exchanging looks with the 
raven angel.
	He turned, kneeling down before her. "Hotaru," he said 
quietly. "Believe me when I say that I would walk through 
the fires of hell to protect you. But that thing's out 
there in the city, and I cannot rest until I know it's 
destroyed. If I have offended you, my queen, please forgive 
me."
	With one last kiss to her cheek he followed the wraith 
to the partition. The two slipped out, Meikyu closing the 
fusama behind them. 
	She lowered her head.
	"He was willing to exact revenge even when it meant 
leaving Hotaru all alone," the tall brunette fumed. "What 
kind of a guardian does that?"
	"One who is torn between duties," the dark-haired 
prince answered. "But he still trusted us enough to leave 
Hotaru in our care. With all the rest of us here, she 
should be safe."
	"When a Mystwolf is angered," the raven angel said. 
"nothing short of death can stop it. That's why the 
Bogeymen attack in large groups, and why hobgoblins stay 
far away. That is why raven angels and Shadowdemons pay 
them respect. To tangle with one is to pick a fight with 
every last Mystwolf alive."
	"But he is the last Mystwolf alive," the dark-haired 
shrine girl said.
	"And that makes him all the more dangerous," she said 
quietly, staring at the closed fusama. "Okami, be careful."


	She stared out at the darkened skies of the winter 
night, at the deserted courtyard of the Shinto shrine 
grounds. His eyes seemed to shimmer amidst the twinkling 
stars, in behind the shadows of the trees.
	The voice of the odango-haired blonde rose up for a 
moment, and she glanced back at her friends through the 
fusama. The others were inside, some caring over the long-
haired blonde and the raven knight, others talking about 
this new enemy. She had wished to be alone; she had to 
gather her thoughts, her emotions.
	"Okami," she said quietly, her deep violet eyes 
lowering to the cobblestone ground.
	How many times had she actually spoken to him that she 
loved him? Perhaps it was reflected in her eyes whenever 
she was in his embrace. But his devotion went beyond words 
and actions. She could feel it radiate from his body 
whenever he was near her, a secure magik that enclosed her 
in gentle howlsongs and Mystwolf lullabies.
	Once, what seemed now to have been an eternity ago, he 
had asked her to be his darkqueen, the Empress over all his 
kind. No mortal from Earth had ever been asked that; it was 
her honour--and thus her responsibility.
	Now he was all she had left from the Dreamworld, and 
he was trying to protect her by stalking something that 
seemed bent on making her suffer. But why?
	"He's mine...." a woman's voice whispered to her.
	She spun around, suddenly on the defensive. But all 
she saw was the eerie shadows of a darkened night. "Who's 
there?" she demanded.
	Only that taunting laugh came in response, cruel and 
scornful towards her. "He's walking into my trap, and soon 
his royal wolf's blood will decorate my robes. Can you stop 
them, Tomoe Hotaru? Can you stop me?"
	And for a moment she saw images explode into her mind: 
a devastated street, the masquerade wraith's broken body 
laying in the shadows of a shattered window, a stranger 
bearing the mark of a lost soul.
	More would suffer unless she made a stand. 
	She quietly slid the fusama shut behind her. "Gomen 
nasai, minna," she whispered. "But this is after me, and I 
have to stop it."
	She was no longer a child, dependant on everyone else 
to protect her. This was her responsibility, and she would 
fight alongside Okami to protect them all.


	The streets of Tokyo were busy at this evening hour, 
yet not as busy as they would have been a littler earlier 
on. Amidst a large crowd of people waiting to cross the 
street, two souls were hunting.
	"I can feel it," he said, either purrs or growls 
escaping with his words. The masquerade wraith could feel 
his thrill for exacting revenge rise within his voice. His 
slitted eyes flashed once again, and a few people seemed 
hesitant to stay near him.
	The crossing signal appeared, and the crowds began to 
file across the street. But the masquerade wraith stayed 
back, instead moving out to the centre of the intersection.
	"You can't hide from us," Meikyu stated icily, slowly 
turning to the shadows there. "I've seen every trick a 
creature of evil can perform, so I can feel your presence a 
mile away."
	The shadows of the street began to pulsate, possessed 
with sudden new life. The pedestrians started to whisper in 
confusion and fear as these shadows came swarming together 
to form a black cloud of darkness. 
	From within the cloud the silhouette of a woman 
appeared. Two eyes of hatred pierced the darkness, glaring 
at them. "So you know all my tricks?" laughed a voice. 
"Well let's see how you deal with this one...Meikyu."
	Meikyu's eyes widened as the shadow flung a car--an 
occupied one. The wraith exploded into the air, opening the 
living ocean mask to become lost in the mystic waters that 
carried the guardian through the vehicle like a ghost. When 
Meikyu emerged, the driver was in Meikyu's arms, being 
carried with the waves.
	The car smashed on top of another parked car, crushing 
the rooftop. There was the loud sound of twisting metal and 
shattered glass.
	Meikyu slowly rose after gently laying the woman out 
of the line of fire. "You're playing just a little too 
rough!" 
	He leaped into the air, landing next to Meikyu. "This 
creature likes to play dirty," he said. "She seems to live 
for it. In fact, I'm impressed that she seems to know all 
our names--even the ones of the Earth warriors."
	Another car was lifted into the air, hovering and 
poised to fly somewhere new. He shouted in fury as the car 
was flung at him, throwing out his arms as the 
undercarriage struck his body, dragging him across the 
street and grinding him into the side of the building.
	"Okami!" Meikyu exclaimed, whirling towards the 
woman's shadow. "Damn you!"
	The woman laughed. "Come now, Hunter. Do you really 
believe you can win?"
	Suddenly the mangled body of the car bounced across 
the roadway between them, leaving behind it a sickening 
echo of grinding metal against asphalt. The hole gouged 
into the side of the building revealed him to be still 
alive.
	There he stood, his golden eyes burning with intense 
rage at the shadow. The jacket was gone, torn to shreds. 
Even his shirt and pants were torn in a numerous places, 
bleeding. Yet the Mystwolf seemed oblivious to his wounds. 
Fists clenched, lips curled back to display his twin sets 
of fangs, his battle aura of crackling silver energy 
swarmed around his body.
	He glanced down at his left shoulder, grotesquely 
contorted and out of shape. The collision had dislocated 
it. Of his own will the Mystwolf jerked back his shoulder, 
setting it into joint with a hideous pop. The pain was too 
intense, and he threw back his head to unleash a bellow 
that shattered the windows behind him.
	"She's mine, wraith!" he snapped, stalking towards 
them.
	The woman laughed, and with another wave of a hand yet 
another car flung itself at him. But this time the Mystwolf 
stayed his ground, pushing back and actually holding the 
vehicle at bay.
	"Tenacious fool," the woman remarked, making another 
rapid gesture. Abruptly the car gained more force and tried 
to crush him into the road. 
	"Aren't you forgetting someone?" Meikyu snapped, the 
scythe appearing. The masquerade wraith smashed the scythe 
blade into the road, and a deadly wave of the tsunami's 
powers tore up the asphalt as it charged towards the woman.
	With a contemptuous laugh the silhouette made a simple 
gesture, dispelling the attack. "Was that the best you 
could do?" cackled the voice.
	"Shimatta," Meikyu hissed.
	And then a volley of blak magik converged, pummelling 
Meikyu with enough force that the wraith was thrown from 
the road, hurled into the air. He watched grimly as 
Meikyu's body collided with a telephone booth, tearing 
apart the wooden frame and shattering the glass panels. Yet 
that didn't stop Meikyu's flight--not until the wraith 
struck a large, plate glass window. Shards of glass cut up 
Meikyu's tumbling body, where it finally came to rest atop 
a restaurant table, legs dangling over the sides.
	With deliberate unhurried motions Okmai turned away 
from his fallen comrade and faced their enemy.
	"I guess that just leaves you and me, Mystwolf," the 
woman said, the shadows pulsating all around the 
silhouette.
	The tsunami scythe began to twitch, gaining new life 
and breath of its own will. Abruptly the weapon flung 
itself into the air, the blade spinning to cut off his 
head. He dodged the strike, leaping aside. Out of the 
corner of his vision he saw a streak of blue, and then his 
right shoulder exploded with a numbing pain. He lost his 
balance, crashing to the ground.
	The next thing he saw was his own blood running in 
small rivers beside his face. He picked himself up, shaky 
in his motions, and gently touched the bloodied slash 
across his right shoulder.
	"That," he hissed. "hurt."
	"If I had wanted you dead, I would have killed you 
already," the spectre replied. "No, Mystwolf, I wish for 
you to be alive. When your beloved comes, then your life 
will end."
	He chuckled darkly, rising to his feet despite the 
wounds. "I fear you shall find that rather difficult once 
I've ripped off the arms and legs on that body of yours."
	"Okami," the spectre said, its voice filled with sweet 
evil. "You cannot fight forever. Where else do you see an 
ally who might help?"
	"Turn around," came a new voice.
	Out from behind a veil on nothingness a tall, young 
man with shining blonde hair walked into the carnage. A 
sword possessing the full furies of a storm was in the 
young man's hands, poised to strike.
	"Will I do as an opponent?" the man inquired.
	The woman glared at the newcomer. "Karasu." 
	The spectre raised its arms, another van starting to 
hover off the ground. A frightened driver threw open the 
door and flopped onto the road, scrambling away and 
screaming loudly. The van launched itself at the Wanderer. 
With a glare Karasu stood still as the van was suddenly 
struck by an invisible wall, crushed into a thin cube as 
fragments were thrown across the street--but not before the 
vehicle burst into a fireball that cast an eerie crimson 
glow upon the street.
	"Wanderer...." 
	Karasu glanced around the street as the mysterious 
voice of a woman whispered the title. The shadow seemed to 
vanish, leaving them alone on the chaotic street. 
	He landed next to the Wanderer, staring solemnly at 
the young blonde man. "So, the Wanderer has returned after 
all. And you knew exactly where to come."
	Karasu removed the shades, crystal blue eyes staring 
into his golden cat-eyes. "I'm not as attuned to the 
movements of the Dreamworld creatures as they are of each 
other. However, while this thing slipped through to Earth 
without my knowledge, your exit lacked subtlety."
	He growled, though not at his ally. "You saw their 
resting place, didn't you?" he said.
	Sadly, Karasu nodded. "I can't offer you any comfort, 
Okami. They were my friends too. I just want a part in 
exacting revenge. You can kill it; I just want to help in 
the maiming."
	"Do you honestly believe you can destroy me?" the 
woman's voice snapped. 
	The two whirled as an enormous violet light exploded 
towards them, casting eerie shadows upon their backs. He 
hissed, baring his fangs. "Looks like you might get that 
wish sooner than expected, Wanderer."
	"Silence Wall!"
	This defense came from a familiar voice, and his eyes 
widened as a barrier field smashed into the woman's attack, 
saving them all. "Hotaru!" he snapped, turning. "What are 
you doing here?"
	She stood before them, walking out through a cloud of 
dust and smoke, dressed in a sailor battle fuku and 
wielding a deadly glaive.
	"If it's me she wants," she answered. "Then she shall 
fight me. I don't want to see anyone else hurt because of 
this."
	"Kuso! She told you where to find us, didn't she?" he 
snarled. "Hotaru-sama, this was a trap designed to flush you 
out, away from those other soldiers!"
	Abruptly the barrier dissipated, and the war-torn 
streets returned. The shadow was closer now, the air filled 
with crackling dark energy. Karasu's head jerked back as a 
legion of glass projectiles streaked past them. 
	He threw himself over her, using himself as a shield. A 
few shards punctured his back, but seemed to hold no effect on 
him. 
	"Arashi!" Karasu shouted, leveling the storm sword to 
the ground. The lightening magik screamed its way towards the 
shadow, and actually struck something instead of fading like 
mist.
	"Impressive, Wanderer," the voice remarked. "You I might 
spare if not to have a worthy opponent. But as for the 
wolf...."
	Suddenly a powerful attack knocked him aside, sending him 
tumbling across the roadway. A heartbeat later the ground beneath 
Karasu broke apart, catapulting the Wanderer into the skies. He 
rolled onto his stomach and pushed off from the asphalt while 
Karasu leaped aside and landed on the ground.
	But now she was left alone to face the enemy.
	"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why are you doing this?"
	"I have suffered grievously at your hands, Sailor 
Saturn," the spectre said coldly. "I have returned to pay 
you back tenfold. Shin'ne."
	She raised her glaive, the blade catching the light of 
the moon. "Silence--!"
	She became lost in a dark aura that swallowed her up 
and seconds later spat her out. The glaive clattered to the 
ground as her fragile body twisted through the air and then 
struck the streetlight pole with a horrific sound.
	"HOTARU-SAMA!!" he shouted, exploding into the air and 
landing at her side. 
	Karasu came between them and the living shadow, 
brandishing the storm sword. "To get to them you'll have to 
get past my illusions first."
	But no attack came. In fact it was just the opposite; 
the shadows were fading away, the force behind them 
retiring. "Sayonara, Hotaru," the woman laughed, the voice 
drifting off into oblivion as well as the spectre. 
"Sayonara...."
	Regrettably, the Wanderer let the entity leave.
	The Mystwolf seemed oblivious to the end of the 
struggle, gripping her hands and running his fingers down 
her pale skin. "Hotaru-chan," he whispered, lifting her up 
and pressing her against his body. "Damn you, why don't you 
ever listen?"
	She smiled weakly, her eyes fluttering open. "This was 
something I...I had to do." Her eyes closed and she lasped 
into a dark sleep.
	"Okami-san," the Wanderer said, putting a restraining 
hand on his shoulder. "We have to return to the temple. 
That creature will be back soon."
	His eyes widened, hot tears spilling down his face. He 
set her down, and then turned on the closest thing to vet 
his rage. In a fury he whirled, smashing himself into 
Karasu. "I want blood!" he snarled, ramming Karasu into the 
pole and hoisting the Wanderer's feet off the floor.
	Abruptly Karasu's body slipped through the pole like 
it was water, and became lost from his grip. He slowly 
turned as the Wanderer reappeared from behind.
	"And you'll get your revenge," Karasu stated. "But 
right now we have to get both of them to a safer place. 
This blak magik counteracts my healing illusions, and 
unless we get them to Rei-chan's temple, they are dead 
already." 
	He nodded, pushing his rage back down into the pit of 
his stomach for a later time. It would come soon enough; 
that much was certain. "I will carry Hotaru. You take the 
hunter."
	"Wait," Karasu added. "There's something else we need 
to do now, Okami."
	He slowly turned around, watching in silence as the 
Wanderer opened up a palm to display a crystal orb.  


	The odango-haired blonde stared out at the open 
fusama, concern revealed in eyes of crystal blue. The 
embrace of the dark-haired prince was of little comfort, 
for somewhere out there they all had sensed warring magiks. 
All but two had remained, keeping close watch on their 
wounded friends; the two who left were adamant about 
finding her.
	"I just can't believe Hotaru-chan would go out and not 
tell us," the dark-haired shrine girl scolded. "She knows 
the danger she's placing herself in."
	The raven angel nodded in agreement, squeezing the 
hand of the tall brunette. "We just have to trust that 
Haruka and Michiru, or else Okami, can find her in time. 
Whatever is attacking us has more power than I've ever 
seen."
	"And it's getting bolder with each new attack," came a 
new voice.
	Everyone turned to see a young man with shining blonde 
hair and eyes hidden behind a pair of shades enter the 
Shinto temple grounds. In the young man's hands was a 
wounded masquerade wraith.
	"Meikyu-chan!" the blue-haired genius cried out, 
rushing outside to the fallen wraith.
	"Daijobu, Ami-chan," the Wanderer soothed. "He just 
needs to rest."
	"Komban wa, Karasu," the dark-haired shrine girl said, 
smiling upon seeing the Wanderer.
	Karasu smiled. "Rei-chan. I wish I could say it was 
good to see you again, but under the circumstances let's 
skip the greetings. Whatever attacked the darkpacks, and 
Minako and Kishi, just tried to kill Meikyu and ourselves."
	He emerged from the shadows behind Karasu, cradling 
her form close to his chest. He was exhausted but alive 
none the less.
	"Okami!" the odango-haired blonde said, relieved. But 
then the odango-haired blonde saw him more clearly, blood 
dripping down his forehead and rivers running down his 
right arm. And in his arms was his beloved, his Darkqueen.
	"Hotaru-chan!" the tall brunette exclaimed, racing out 
onto the pavilion. "Okami, what happened?"
	He aggressively snapped at the tall brunette, his 
attack impeded by the fact that he was still carrying her 
in his arms. He refused to give her over to anyone else, 
taking her inside and laying her down on a futon.
	She smiled weakly, and managed to sit up. "Gomen, 
Okami-chan," she whispered. "I'm sorry I made you worry."
	He shook his head, caressing her neck. "Talk later, 
Hotaru-sama."
	"Don't be too harsh on her," Karasu said, laying 
Meikyu out on another thin futon. "She saved our lives."
	"She shouldn't have been there in the first place," 
the tall brunette stated.
	He whirled, glaring at them all. "That is why I left 
her here in your care! Can I trust no one among you with 
Hotaru? I've already lost all my kind, and I am not ready 
to lose her too!"
	"Not all the Mystwolves are dead," the Wanderer spoke 
up.
	There was dead silence in the room.
	"What?" he exclaimed, spinning around. 
	"How is that possible, Karasu?" the dark-haired prince 
asked.
	Karasu removed the shades, stretching out both arms. 
Suddenly the room was bathed in a shimmering blue light 
that forced everyone to step back. A series of glowing orbs 
flashed into being around the Wanderer's body. These 
crystals grew until they were the size of the ones Karasu 
used for wielding illusions, their glassy surface fading to 
reveal the souls inside. 
	As she looked at the crystals, she recognized the 
forms curled up within, sleeping and unaware of it. Within 
each orb was a Mystwolf, and the orbs seemed to number just 
over twenty.
	"Masaka," she whispered.
	Karasu's eyes slowly opened. "This creature remained 
hidden even from my senses. But the Master of the 
Dreamworld led me to the Gathering, and I arrived when the 
battle began."
	There was a grimness in the Wanderer's crystal blue 
eyes. "Gomen ne, Okami-san. I only had enough time and 
magik to save one clan of Mystwolves from the slaughter. 
That is why I was unable to contact any of you, or even 
show up on Earth for a time; all my powers were exhausted 
from hiding these Mystwolves."
	He walked over to the Wanderer, placing his hand on 
Karasu's shoulder. "You did what I failed at, Karasu. You 
protected my huntbrothers and sisters. I am in your debt."
	The shades went back over Karasu's eyes. "I'll deduct 
it from the list of favours I still owe you, Okami. In the 
meantime, we need to count our losses. Meikyu's out of the 
fight now, and Hotaru's in no shape to do battle either." 
	She tried to gather enough strength in defiance to the 
pain, and pushed herself a little further off the mattress. 
"I can still fight," she stated. But her arms trembled and 
she stifled a gasp, falling back.
	"Hotaru!" the dark-haired shrine girl exclaimed, 
catching her from the fall. The dark-haired shrine girl 
bandaged her and treated her wounds, while the shrine 
protege tended to Meikyu.
	He looked on fiercely, held back by the Wanderer and 
the raven angel.
	"You will not help her by interfering with them," the 
raven angel stated, glancing down at his bloodied shoulder. 
"In fact your own wounds should be checked out."
	"I'll live, Sora," he countered icily, pushing away 
from them.
	He knelt down next to her as she was being tended to, 
taking her hand in his and squeezing it. He shed no tears 
but they all could read the concern he held for her. Such 
fierce dedication his breed held close to the heart.
	And she was his Darkqueen, his soulmate. She smiled, 
feeling him channel his own formidable battle aura into her 
body. Some of the pain faded away, and she sighed in 
relief. Both of their bodies were glowing with a silver 
aura, like sparkling starlight.
	"For you, Hotaru," she heard his voice whisper through 
the gentle winds of his aura. "I will never let them harm 
you again so long as I still breathe."
	"Okami, you can't transfer all your strength to her," 
the blue-haired genius spoke up. "You're already weakened 
from the last battle."
	"I survived getting hit by that car," he countered. "I 
can still take whatever that creature came throw at me."
	"He got hit by a car?" the odango-haired blonde 
exclaimed.
	He laughed darkly at the memory, his shoulder still 
filled with numbing pain after being dislocated. "Flying 
car, actually. Grinded me right into the side of a 
building."
	"Hai, and then you threw it back across the road," the 
Wanderer added. "You can take a lot more than anyone else, 
but even still you can only take so much."
	"But Hotaru needs her own strength," he snapped. 
"Dammit, don't you see? Whatever this woman is, she's bent 
on killing Hotaru. We're just pawns in the game!"
	She tried to push against the hands of the dark-haired 
shrine girl. "I can make it," she stated, wincing as 
newfound pain streaked through her chest.
	She had to try. This was not a time to give up, not 
when everyone depended on her. This was her fight; why 
couldn't they just understand that? She was no longer a 
little child.
	"Hotaru, in this fragile form you cannot hope to 
survive another attack," the dark-haired prince said. "It's 
a miracle you survived at all. You need rest."
	"Hotaru-chan," the odango-haired blonde agreed. 
"Please let us help. You are in no condition to even fight 
right now."
	"Then let her take the bite of the Mystwolf," he 
stated, his golden eyes flashing to meet the odango-haired 
blonde's gaze.
	For a moment silence filled the room. The girls 
questioned what his words meant, while the two remaining 
guardians glanced uneasily at each other.	
	"The magik of the Dreamworld is nothing like the magik 
of Earth," the raven angel said somberly. "There's not 
telling what might happen to her if the magik of the myst 
runs through her body. It could very well kill her."
	"Okami, remember what happened when I tried to force 
my way into the Dreamworld with my own magik," the Wanderer 
added. "Remember that first favor I owed you."
	He shook his head at them. "It is her choice. This is 
her battle, and as I am her protector, so too is it mine. 
But this risk must be one she alone decides to take." 
	She saw the solemness in his golden eyes; he knew very 
well that she could die. A part of him cried out for her to 
refuse, yet another part saw that she might die without the 
power of his magik.
	"I'll do it," she spoke up.
	The room fell silent once more as everyone turned to 
her; she was sitting tall and determined, though fear of 
what might happen was within her eyes. 
	"Are you willing to take the risks?" the tall brunette 
pressed.
	She nodded, squeezing his hand. He tightly held onto 
hers. If he was there beside her, she could endure the 
pain. They had come through so much together already; she 
knew for certain that he would never leave her side.
	"So be it," the Wanderer spoke up, a crystal orb 
flickering to life. "There is a way around the problem, 
though. Whatever pain Hotaru feels from the merging can be 
locked inside this illusion. She will feel nothing, but 
instead sleep."
	"What's the problem, then?" the blue-haired genius 
asked.
	The Wanderer turned to him. "I cannot simply 
extinguish the pain inside this illusion, or else I would 
undo all the effort of the merging. Someone else has to 
take Hotaru's place in feeling the pain."
	He glanced away from Karasu and over to her, his 
golden cat-eyes flashing in the dim shadows of the room. He 
stepped forward, his hand closing over the crystal. 
	"Then take me," he stated. "It is the least I can do 
for the risk Hotaru-sama was willing to take for me."
	"Okami, are you sure?" Karasu asked cautiously. "As 
resiliant as you've proven yourself to be, you are in no 
real condition to take the merging of two magiks. You could 
be killed instead of her."
	His gaze was cast back at her for a moment, and she 
couldn't help but shiver at how dangerous yet how 
compassionate his eyes were in that moment.
	"For Hotaru," he answered, taking the crystal into his 
hands and pushing the orb into his chest. The illusion 
rippled slightly, absorbed into his body. 
	"Okami-chan," she whispered. He was willing to do this 
for her? It seemed stupid of him to do so, yet she knew 
that in her condition she would not survive. Her guardian 
was walking in death's shadow that she might live.
	For a moment he showed slight discomfort but it 
passed.
	"I'll be outside," Karasu stated, drawing back to one 
of the fusama. "Sora, Yuichiro, Mamoru; would you please 
accompany me? Our enemy's bound to make another attack, and 
I don't want us to be caught offguard."
	The dark-haired prince nodded, leaving the odango-
haired blonde and rising. "Mamo-chan," the odango-haired 
blonde said, hesitant to see the dark-haired prince leave.
	"Daijobu, Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince answered. 
"I'll be back before you know it."
	Sora gently kissed the tall brunette's cheek. "Mako-
chan, we'll be together again in our dreams tonight. I 
promise you."
	The shrine protege embraced the dark-haired shrine 
girl, caressing her cheek. "Hey, if I survived Bogeymen I 
can survive this, Rei-chan."
	At that Karasu glanced away, the light from the 
candles flashing across the shades and hiding his eyes from 
everyone else. The Wanderer disappeared through one of the 
screens, presumably to be outside.
	The three guardians left the building, closing the 
fusama behind them. He watched them go, finally looking 
back to the girls staring at him. "We will need someplace 
private," he stated. "A place where I will not be 
disturbed."


	She glanced around at the small room presented before 
them by the dark-haired shrine girl. There was a futon on 
the floor, and some candles at the corners of the paper-
covered dividers.
	"I hope this is what you need," the dark-haired shrine 
girl said. "Just try to keep it down; so far we've been 
able to hide this fight from my sleeping grandfather. I 
don't want to blow it now."
	"Leave us then," he said.
	The dark-haired shrine girl nodded and slid shut the 
fusama. Now they were alone. She embraced her Mystwolf, 
hesitant for what would follow next. In truth she was 
frightened; this was new to her, completely foreign. He 
held onto her tightly, brushing away some of her raven dark 
hair away from her face.
	"Hotaru," he said quietly. "This will make you like 
me: a Mystwolf. And even moreso, this will truly make you 
our Darkqueen. After that my life will mean nothing so long 
as you survive. You must understand that, no matter what 
happens."
	And suddenly he brought her closer to his chest, his 
eyes closed as he tilted down his head and kissed her. "I 
love you, Hotaru. Nothing will ever change that, not even 
death."
	She smiled, resting her head against his shoulders. 
Already the wound on his one shoulder was sealed, though 
the healing process was far from finished. "Okami-chan," 
she answered, running her fingers down his defined chest. 
She glanced over at the futon. "We should begin."
	He nodded. "As you wish. Remove your shirt then."
	She drew back, slowly unbuttoning her black blouse. It 
drifted down as she released it, rippling as it met with 
the wooden floor. He glanced down at her breasts, running 
his hand down her side. She shivered.
	Taking her hand in his, he sat her down on the edge of 
the mattress, kneeling down before her. His slitted eyes 
flashed a haunting gold in the candlelight.
	"It will hurt regardless," he stated, and though his 
voice was still edged in the dark tone of wolf there was 
concern for her, his Darkqueen.
	"Hold me tightly when it happens," she answered, 
taking a deep breath and bracing herself.
	Guiding her hands away from her chest, he slowly 
opened his mouth. The twin sets of fangs grew out at the 
corners of his mouth, glistening. She held her breath, 
suddenly questioning her choice.
	For a heartbeat his eyes met hers, and then he lunged. 
He sank his fangs into her skin just around her breast, 
droplets of blood running down from his lips. She fell 
backwards onto the futon, and he kept pressing against her, 
not allowing his fangs to retreat from her flesh.
	She cried out in pain, her legs wrapping tightly 
around his back as she pulled him closer to her. 
Relentlessly he continued to bite down, not quite drinking 
her blood but forcing it to run free around his lips and 
down both of their bodies.
	Her fists clenched, fingernails raking down his 
shoulders. He grimaced as she drew his blood. Abruptly he 
pulled back, raising his head as her blood dripped from his 
mouth. She stifled a gasp as she felt his fangs pull out 
from her skin.
	And then he lifted his lips to her, and they kissed. 
She tasted her own blood, warm and bittersweet. There was a 
strange exhilaration that suddenly flooded her body. She 
gasped, arching her back as she still clung to Okami's 
form, pushing her breasts against him.
	"Okami-chan!" she cried out.
	Her grip on his body relaxed, her eyes closed and her 
body slowly lowered itself onto the futon. He smiled, 
helping her down.
	"Hotaru-sama," he said quietly, kissing her forehead. 
With his palm he caressed her skin, brushing her stomach 
and breasts. She sighed in her sleep as he touched one of 
her nipples. Already the wound was starting to seal itself, 
the blood still there but only a closed scar remaining.
	He straightened up, sitting on the edge of the 
mattress. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could feel 
what might have been pain. Covering her up with the 
blankets, he grimaced as one of his legs erupted in sudden 
agony, as if every nerve in his body was on fire.
	"Chikusho," he muttered.


	Guests were anxiously waiting outside the fusama as he 
slid open the wall panel, leaving her alone to rest. They 
were the raven angel and the odango-haired blonde.
	The cool evening air brought comfort to his soul; 
these winds were just like the ones his darkpack had used 
to run with. Had it been so long? His thoughts returned to 
the Wanderer, and the last clan of Mystwolves kept hidden. 
Soon they all would be avenged, by Mystwolf blood or else 
by none.
	"Where are the others?" he said.
	"Helping with our injured friends," the raven angel 
answered. "I fear they do not share your rate of physical 
healing."
	Quietly he slid the fusama closed behind him, trying 
to move out into the Shinto shrine's courtyard. But the 
odango-haired blonde blocked his path; he read the genuine 
concern in her trembling crystal blue eyes.
	"Is she alright?" the odango-haired blonde asked 
expectantly.
	"She sleeps," he answered. "Now forgive me if I do not 
remain here for a time." He brushed past them, limping 
slightly as he moved outside. Abruptly his form became 
blurred as he leaped into the air, disappearing past the 
trees of the park surrounding the Shinto shrine.
	"Is he alright?" the odango-haired blonde asked.
	"Her blood will burn with the magik of the myst," the 
raven angel said. "But now her pain is his, and it will 
test whether or not he can survive the merging of two 
different breeds of magik."
	And then an anguished howl echoed across the Shinto 
temple grounds, coming from deep within the trees of the 
surrounding park. 
	"Okami," the odango-haired blonde whispered, suddenly 
breaking into a run.
	"Hey!" the raven angel called out. "Usagi, where are 
you going? Usagi! Usagi!" 


	He fought.
	He fought with pain, with electricity streaking 
through his veins and his entire body burning with intense 
fire. Every muscle was flexing and relaxing at will, his 
insides twisting around. Finally he could run no longer to 
forget the pain, collapsing onto the damp grass and curling 
up into a ball, clenching his jaw and growling. Somewhere 
just at the edge of the trees before him he could see the 
waters of a lake or a pond. 
	"For you, Hotaru-sama," he hissed. "I shall bear this 
pain."
	He pushed off the grass, forcing himself to take one 
more step forward, and then another. If he wished for his 
Darkqueen's survival, he had to endure the pain, that when 
she awoke he could protect her.
	"Okami!" he heard a female voice call out.
	He turned and saw the odango-haired blonde racing 
towards him. "Are you a fool, girl?" he said. "You should 
be with the protection of the others."
	"Then what about you?" the odango-haired blonde shot 
back, stopping a few paces from him.
	He tried to stand, but only fell against a tree. Two 
blazing cat-eyes glared at her. "You're the one they call 
Usagi?" he asked. The odango-haired blonde nodded. "Usagi, 
you have not even the slightest idea what is going on. You 
know nothing about me or my kind. Go away." 
	He glanced away, limping towards the clearing. Out 
beyond that he could see the rippling waters of a large 
pond, the moonlight shimmering off the waves. So much like 
the hotsprings....
	Abruptly his knees were overcome by immense pain, and 
his entire body shook. The odango-haired blonde was at his 
side in an instant, taking his arm and helping him stand.
	"I can take it!" he snapped, pushing her back though 
stumbling onto his knees in the process. The shoulder that 
had felt the tsunami scythe was raw and giving him the most 
pain; he was almost tempted to rip it off in the hopes of 
the pain going away.
	"Why do you keep pushing us away?" the odango-haired 
blonde asked of him. "We only want to help because we care 
for Hotaru-chan just as you do."
	"If you want to help, then leave me now," he hissed, 
clutching his chest defensively. "Go back to that temple 
and guard her while she sleeps. I can handle myself."
	He turned away, walking towards the edge of the lake. 
Perhaps his body might be soothed by its cool waters, just 
like when he swam in the Dreamworld.
	"That's not the only reason you're out here, is it?" 
the odango-haired blonde pressed. "You ran from the temple 
to be alone, to bring whatever's attacking us to you and 
not to Hotaru."
	He chuckled and looked back at the odango-haired 
blonde, his fangs glistening. "Very impressive, Usagi. I'm 
a prime target for this creature, and I can feel it coming 
closer. But now it will come to me, and not to her."
	"In this state you won't survive!" the odango-haired 
blonde protested. 
	His strength left as a new wave of pain struck, and he 
sank back down to his knees. Resignedly he remained there. 
"I love Hotaru," he said quietly. "I have ever since she 
first bathed in those hotsprings and saw our darkpack 
emerge from the forest. You saw the horror at the 
Gathering. I thought I had lost her there; I swore then 
that so long as I live and breath I will never let it 
happen again. Not to Hotaru-chan."
	"Then let us help, please," the odango-haired blonde 
asked, reaching out a hand. "We understand the pain you're 
going through."
	His cat-eyes flashed at her in the pale moonlight.
	"Tell me," he said icily. "Have you ever seen everyone 
you ever cared about stolen from you in front of your eyes, 
and there was nothing you could do to save them?"
	Stunned at his harsh words, the odango-haired blonde 
opened her mouth but her voice was choked from within. 
	He laughed scornfully, turning his back. "I guessed 
not."
	"Hai!" she shouted with passionate anger.
	He slowly returned to meet her gaze, surprised by the 
emotional response. And so the Mystwolf listened as the 
odango-haired blonde told him of Galaxia. One by one the 
people she treasured most were taken: first her beloved 
prince, then her closest friends, and finally those who 
fought for her cause.
	All the time his glowing eyes were solemn, never 
leaving the sight of the odango-haired blonde. Finally when 
she ended he showed a response.
	"Perhaps I was wrong about you, Usagi," he said. "But 
even still you live on the other side of both our codes. 
These Senshi were willing to die to protect you, their 
princess. I know from looking into your eyes that you 
cannot understand this sacrifice yet. But I am just like 
them, for now Hotaru-sama is our Darkqueen, and if I die so 
that she may live...then I will accept it."
	The dedication burned through his eyes, and the 
odango-haired blonde found her own eyes trembling. The 
Mystwolf slowly rose, shaking out his body. "The pain has 
ended," he stated. "The merging of magiks must be complete; 
we have our Darkqueen at last."
	"But will she have any subjects left for her?" 
inquired a new voice. 
	He whirled, snarling in recognition. "So, you finally 
decided to show up, did you?"
	Between a set of trees a pulsating aura emerged, 
filtering out like a writhing stormcloud. All around the 
violet mist black magik crackled and sparked, sending out a 
cold chill across the night air. The silhouette of a woman 
emerged, staring at them both.
	"Okami, I'm glad to see you recovered from the last 
injuries I inflicted upon you," the voice laughed. "I like 
having a body cleansed before they're broken."	
	"Who are you?" the odango-haired blonde demanded. "Why 
do you want to hurt Hotaru-chan?" 
	The spectre turned to her, and two eyes narrowed in 
sadistic desires. "I remember you," the woman hissed upon 
looking at the odango-haired blonde. "You should feel as 
much pain as Hotaru for what you have done."
	The odango-haired blonde faultered for a moment; did 
they know this enemy, a shadow from their past? But who 
could it be? 
	"How convenient you both are here for me," the woman 
said. "Once I destroy you, Hotaru will be next."
	His eyes widened, though not in fury or shock. Instead 
they opened wider to display the manifestation of his 
wolfen magik in his blazing golden cat-eyes. His silver 
bangs were dancing wildly around his head as the battle 
aura surrounded his form.
	"Just try it!" he snarled, smashing his clenched fist 
into the ground. All around him the glowing battle aura 
exploded from beneath the grasses, sinking into a small 
crater. The attack erupted from the epicentre, rampaging 
and tearing through the ground as it shot towards the 
shadows.
	With a wave of a hand, the spectre summoned a barrier 
that crashed into his attack, both forces lost in a flash 
of light. As the light died down, he was already on a 
charge. But another gesture from the woman sent him hurling 
backwards, striking the water and sending up a tremendous 
wave.
	"Okami!" the odango-haired blonde shouted.
	Suddenly he punched through the surface, soaring 
through the air and landing in a crouch alongside the 
odango-haired blonde. He vigorously shook his head, drying 
out his hair. The deliciously malevolent gleam his eyes was 
shining brighter. "Ne, now is that all the power you've 
got?"
	He directed his attention over the odango-haired 
blonde. "Usagi, get the hell out of here," he said. "This 
is something personal I intend to take care of."
	"No!" she protested.
	"Just leave!" he snapped.
	"The only way out now is death," the woman's voice 
stated. What looked like large, demon wings unfurled from 
behind the silhouette, and then a volley of small 
projectiles were unleashed.
	They were organic spikes.
	The odango-haired blonde's eyes widened as the 
gleaming points of the spikes shot towards her. And they 
sunk into flesh, spraying out blood with a sickening and 
audible series of dull thuds. But the odango-haired blonde 
was not the one struck. He was there before her, grimacing 
through clenched teeth and fangs, eyes blazing in golden 
fury. 
	"Okami!" she cried out.
	He dropped to his knees, trembling as he looked at the 
neat rows of needles piercing his skin. "Damn you, Usagi," 
he muttered with a bittersweet smile and laugh. "That was a 
perfectly good defense I wasted."
	A blast of blak magik sent his weakened form hurling 
through the air, striking a nearby tree. The trunk 
shuddered with the impact but was unbroken. None the less, 
there was nothing between the odango-haired blonde and the 
shadows of evil.
	"Now, the White Moon princess," the woman snarled, a 
hand raised to unleash an attack directed at the odango-
haired blonde. There was no time to react before the 
pulsating violet light erupted, seeking out the girl.
	The odango-haired blonde cried out, stepping back and 
tripping on the grass. Sprawled out she watched in horrific 
silence as the blak magik came closer and closer still.
	"World Shaking!"
	And with that new shout a new attack shot through the 
park, colliding with the woman's attack. Their impact left 
a smouldering crater mere feet from the odango-haired 
blonde, who was trembling.
	"Who dares to defy me?" the woman exclaimed, the 
spectre and its shadows spinning around.
	The shadows of the trees slipped away to reveal the 
sandy-blonde and the aqua-haired woman, both clad in their 
own sailor battle fukus.
	"You led us on quite a chase," the sandy-blonde 
remarked. "Are you that afraid of fighting us?"
	"If you fear anyone," he snarled, rising to his feet 
and wiping a thin trail of blood from his lips. "then fear 
the Mystwolf. Did you think that would stop me?"
	His entire chest was glistening in crimson, as well as 
his arms and his face. Slowly he reached for one of the 
spikes in his forearm and then pulled it out, showing 
little reaction to the pain.
	The woman laughed. "That was merely a warm-up, Okami. 
Now all of you can feel the wrath of my dark magik."
	The entire park was starting to ripple with contrary 
magiks as his battle aura erupted once again to rise 
against the spectre's dark aura. The sandy blonde and the 
aqua-haired woman exchanged glances.
	"What do you think?" the sandy blonde asked.
	The aqua-haired one smiled. "A reckoning is in order, 
and it would be rude of us to simply stand down now."
	The sandy blonde nodded. "My thoughts exactly."
	And then a loud shout echoed across the entire park:
	"STOP!"
	It came from her, the one bearing the mark of Saturn, 
the one who had taken the bite of the Mystwolf to become 
the Darkqueen.
	"Hotaru-sama," he whispered in awe.
	Her skin was pale just as it had always been, but now 
it glowed like the white moon. Dressed in her sailor battle 
fuku, the deadly Silence glaive in her hands, she stood 
there defiantly before the pulsating darknesss.
	Behind her were the ranks of the legendary warriors 
still able to fight: the tall brunette, the blue-haired 
genius, the dark-haired shrine girl. And with them the 
guardians of the Dreamworld: the Wanderer, the raven angel, 
the shrine protege. 
	The odango-haired blonde turned as a young man dressed 
in a black tuxedo and wearing a white mask landed near one 
of the trees. "Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince said.
	"Mamo-chan," the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, 
throwing herself into the prince's embrace.
	The Darkqueen approached him, and he smiled through 
the blood and the pain as he caught sight of twin fangs 
protruding out from the corners of her mouth.
	"Hotaru-sama," he said, kneeling before her. "My 
queen."
	"Rise, Okami," she said, touching his cheek.
	The Darkqueen slowly turned to face the entity of evil 
before them all. Her eyes caught the moonlight, and they 
were glowing gold, cat-eyes. "You attacked my friends," she 
stated icily. "and you murdered my darkpacks. I will never 
forgive you for what you've done."
	The shadows jeered at them. "None of you has the power 
to destroy me," the woman laughed. "I am more powerful than 
any of you could possibly hope to destroy let alone defeat. 
One by one, you will all die."
	"I've heard enough of this crap," the Wanderer 
growled.
	"Who are you?" the sandy-blonde demanded angrily.
	And then the woman stepped out from the shadows, the 
spectre finally revealed. Among the ladies present, a 
stunned silence reigned.
	"Masaka," the aqua-haired one gasped. "She was 
destroyed."
	Standing before them was a woman with long dark hair 
flowing out past her face, reaching down around her back. 
Piercing eyes of deep, evil violet stared out at them all 
with a love for the destruction around them.
	That had once been the woman's mission: to summon a 
force bent on annihilation of the Earth. She wore a low-
cute, dark dress adorned with strings of small black pearls 
draped around her dressed and over her arms. And in the 
centre of her forehead was the marking of a black star.
	"Who is she?" the raven angel asked, still in a 
defensive stance with the furies of the winds encircling 
him.
	"Mistress Nine," the odango-haired blonde whispered.
	"Should we know her?" he asked, turning to his 
Darkqueen.
	She looked upon this older version of herself, a skin 
of evil that had thrived on her ancient, dormant magik of 
death and rebirth. Her deep violet eyes trembled in stunned 
fear; this spectre had been destroyed when she retook her 
soul to become the Senshi of the planet Saturn.
	He took her silence as a response. "If you killed her 
once," he growled, his tongue running down his fangs. "then 
that means we can do it again."
	"Baka," Mistress 9 hissed. "My powers are more than 
you could fathom! Welcome to the beginning of the end of 
your precious world. Hotaru, you I will save for last."
	"The hell you will," the sandy-blonde retorted, 
drawing out a mystic sabre, the blade glowing a brilliant 
white. The sandy-blonde charged, brandishing the sword. 
"Space Sword Blaster!"
	The sabre unleashed a volley of rapid fireballs, the 
sandy-blonde still charging behind them. Mistress 9 
deflected the fireballs with frightening ease. "Don't 
patronize me, Uranus. Your attacks never could touch me in 
the past, and now is no different."
	Suddenly a wave of blak magik smashed into the tall 
sandy-blonde, savagely catapulting the young woman into a 
tree. This time the tree was torn apart by the impact, bark 
and wood raining down as the sandy-blonde crashed to the 
ground in a battered heap.
	"Haruka!" the aqua-haired woman shouted. Fierce eyes 
the colour of the woman's hair glared at the demoness, and 
an attack was sumoned with torrents of water. "Deep 
Submerge!"
	That attack was subdued, and Mistress 9 launched a 
volley of spikes from demon wings once more. The aqua-
haired woman leaped and vaulted aside, but could not 
outmanoeuvre all the projectiles, crying out in pain as one 
sank into the woman's thigh.
	"Michiru!" she exclaimed, trying to race towards her 
friend. But she was pushed back by her Mystwolf. "Hotaru-
sama," he hissed. "You may be my Darkqueen, but don't defy 
me. Stay here."
	The Mystwolf lunged for the demoness, but was swatted 
aside and plunged back into the icy waters of the lake. A 
heartbeat later he erupted within a geyser, landing back 
onto the grasses, panting for breath and loving every 
minute of it.
	Mistress 9 turned to the odango-haired blonde. 
"Princess of the White Moon: now you die."
	The dark-haired prince scooped the odango-haired 
blonde up and leaped aside as blak magik carved a wicked 
gouge through the ground. But the demoness was expecting 
this, unleashing a second blast that caught them in 
midflight.
	"Mamo-chan!" the odango-haired blonde screamed as the 
dark-haired prince's body twisted, a spray of blood 
striking the girl's face.
	"Usagi!" she cried out to her friends.
	Even still, the dark-haired prince tried one last 
attempt to stop the demoness, throwing a red rose before 
the two crashed to the ground.
	The dark-haired prince gave a weak smile, slowly 
falling into a dreamless sleep. "Gomen, Usa-ko."
	"Mamo-chan," the odango-haired blonde whispered, tears 
forming in the girl's crystal blue eyes.
	Mistress 9 caught the rose in the air, crushing the 
petals. "I tire of these games," the demoness snarled, 
spinning around and delivering a blast of magik that struck 
the couple a second time. Lost in grief, the odango-haired 
blonde never saw the attack coming despite the cries from 
the others.
	Suddenly a flash of bright violet light exploded 
around the odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired prince. 
Standing between them and Mistress 9 was she, her Silence 
Glaive creating a barrier field to protect them.
	"You dare to hurt my friends?" she snarled, her cat-
eyes blazing with golden light. The combined auras of two 
worlds encircled her, turning the entire park into a 
brilliant display of swirling lights.
	"I'm not about to simply stand by and watch this," the 
Karasu muttered, a legion of crystal orbs appearing to 
flank the Wanderer.
	"What makes you think we're content to do the same?" 
the dark-haired shrine girl replied, an aura of fire 
erupting from open palms.
	The other soldiers began to summon their own deadly 
magiks, the raven angel and the tall brunette breaking into 
a run towards Mistress 9.
	"ENOUGH!" the demoness bellowed, throwing both hands 
into the air and unleashing a tremendous blast of dark 
energy that engulfed the park like a firestorm. Most of 
them barely even got to speak the first word of their 
attack before the wave overtook them with deadly force, 
scattering each warrior around the trees.
	Abruptly two leaped into the air, racing towards 
Mistress 9.
	"Karasu, go left!" the shrine protege shouted.
	The Wanderer gave a nod, Arashi drawn. The shrine 
protege and Karasu teamed up, one unleashing an illusion 
and the other striking the ground and sending out a 
shockwave of magik. But they held no effect, and Mistress 9 
launched a savage counter-attack.
	The dark-haired shrine girl rose out from a gouge left 
in the earth from that first attack, eyes widening in 
seeing the attack tearing apart the park to destroy her 
beloved. "Yuichiro!!"
	The Wanderer saw the projectile and grappled onto the 
shrine protege, throwing the young man aside. Karasu 
grunted in pain, taking a hit in the left shoulder, blood 
spraying out across the grass in behind. 
	"Shimatta," the Wanderer muttered, collapsing to the 
ground in a battered heap.
	The Mystwolf lunged once more, using the distractions 
of the others to get closer to his prey. "Kon chikusho!" he 
hissed, unsheathing his claws. "Aren't you forgetting who 
your real opponent is?!"
	He moved fast, but Mistress 9	moved faster, whirling 
and striking him down, clamping onto his neck and then 
hurling him back across the park. He tumbled to a stop at 
the feet of his Darkqueen, who was beside the odango-haired 
blonde.
	"Okami-chan," she scolded, kneeling down the help him 
rise once more. "You'll get yourself killed."
	"That is the duty of a Mystwolf," he answered 
solemnly, staring into her eyes. "Hotaru-sama, you are my 
Darkqueen. Everything I have belongs to you. And so long as 
I live nothing will harm you."
	"What are you saying?" she asked, her trembling eyes 
telling him that she already suspected and feared the 
answer.
	His palm gently caressed her cheek. "My life means 
nothing so long as you survive. You must understand that, 
no matter what happens." Slowly his vision focused onto 
Mistress 9. "Protect the others. Do not interfere with me. 
That is not a request, my queen. But know that no matter 
what happens, I love you."
	"Okami-chan," she protested weakly. But he had already 
pushed away, stalking towards the demoness.
	He growled at Mistress 9, tearing away the shreds of 
fabric that had once been his shirt. "Now we end this," he 
stated coldly. "One way or another."
	Mistress 9 laughed. "Are you that ready to die, 
Mystwolf?"
	He snarled, revealing his twin fangs.
	For one brief moment the entire park grew silent, and 
nothing but the biting winds could be heard beneath the 
light of a pale moon. The aura around him began to manifest 
once more, pulsating and swarming around his body. The 
demoness's laughter rang through the trees, the demon wings 
spreading large around Mistress 9.
	It was a stand-off.
	Abruptly the ground beneath him shattered, pummelling 
him with shards of rocks that cut apart his skin. With an 
enraged howl he leaped from the shrapnel, claws gleaming as 
he raked them down upon the ground. The arcs of the claws 
were lit up in a glowing sliver light, shooting forward and 
slicing a deadly path through the air. Mistress 9 countered 
with a barrier field, dispelling the attack. Magik 
scattered, cutting through trees with a single stroke and 
uprooting the grasses like an invisible wind.
	"Is that the full extend of your powers?" Mistress 9 
asked of him, the demoness' voice laced with taunts and 
malevolence.
	Suddenly the furies of the winds swept around him, and 
he was lost in the gales. Mistress 9 glared at the empty 
place he last was.
	A grey streak flashed behind some trees.
	Another across the waters of the lake, leaving ripples 
behind it.
	Yet another above in the midnight sky.
	And then one appeared right behind the demoness. With 
barely any time to react, Mistress 9 whirled and saw a 
large silver wolf pouncing. The form rippled and amidst the 
sudden explosion of magik the wolf became a young man with 
silver hair and blazing eyes.
	"Shin'ne!" he howled, burying his claws inside her 
chest. 
	Mistress 9 faultered, gasping at the wound. He 
snarled, retracting his claws, letting the demoness fall to 
the ground, long dark hair fluttering in the wind. Licking 
the blood off his fingertips, he started walking towards 
his Darkqueen.
	"Never again," he whispered.
	"Okami!" the odango-haired blonde screamed. "Behind 
you!"
	He whirled, only to see Mistress 9 standing once 
again. And then his entire sight went crimson and blurred. 
The world seemed to tip over, and he was vaguely aware of 
hitting the damp earth.
	Everyone called out his name, but they were vague 
whispers in the back of his mind. Though his fists were 
clenched tightly, he could deliver no more attacks as his 
strength ran out in scarlet rivers from his body. The sweat 
on his body seemed abruptly cold, and he could taste 
something bitter-sweet in his mouth.
	It was his own blood.
	He was on his side, curling up into a ball, his golden 
cat-eyes staring at the enormous bloodied hole that was 
once his chest, the blood gushing out and staining his pale 
skin, soaking into the grass.
	"Chi...kusho," he muttered.
	The harsh cackles of Mistress 9 echoed inside his 
brain. "I can't believe you thought I was dead. Foolish 
wolf, my magik is far stronger than that."
	The screams of his beloved reached his ears, and he 
smiled though his body was growing strangely cold and numb. 
In the corner of his vision he could see her struggling to 
reach him, held back by the odango-haired blonde.
	"Okami-chan!" she cried out, tears streaming down her 
face. "Okami-chan!"
	"Gomen ne, Hotaru-sama," he said quietly, his eyes 
slowly closing. "In the end I...I couldn't kill her. But it 
was good to see your...to say 'I love you' before...."
	With one last breath he surrendered to the eternal 
night. And there he died.
	"Okami-chan!!" she screamed. "Usagi, let me go!"
	"Hotaru-chan!" the odango-haired blonde cried, holding 
her back. "There's nothing you can do for him! You'll be 
killed!"
	She squirmed out from the odagno-haired blonde's grip, 
spinning and slapping her friend in the face. "Iie!" she 
shouted angrily. "He's not dead! He can't be dead! 
OKAMI!!!" 
	Her rage flickered as she saw the look of stunned 
sadness in the eyes of the odango-haired blonde, who was 
rubbing the cheek where she had slapped the girl. The anger 
died out, and she collapsed into the odango-haired blonde's 
arms.
	"Usagi!" she sobbed.
	She lifted her head from the odagno-haired blonde's 
breasts, glancing back at where her soulmate was resting. 
And her eyes widened with newfound fury.
	Mistress 9 was looming over his body, laughing 
cruelly. The demoness grabbed hold of his hair, hoisting 
his body off the ground.	
	"Let him go!" the tall brunette shouted, charging at 
the Empress. But with one glare from the Empress, the girl 
was catapulted backwards as magik met with greater, dark 
magik. The raven angel caught the tall brunette moments 
before the young woman would have struck a tree.
	"A shame he had to die," Mistress 9 said. "But this is 
far from over, Hotaru. Just as the Mystwolves were wiped 
out, so too shall I use my blak magik to end the life of 
every living thing on this planet."
	Slowly she rose to her feet, taking up the Silence 
Glaive. "Give Okami back to me," she hissed, her eyes 
burning with hatred. Mystwolf blood ran through her body; 
now she was understanding their thirst for vengeance.
	"Queen of the Mystwolves," Mistress 9 stated. "There 
is no one left of your kind. What else will you do, 
Darkqueen?"
	She was beside herself with rage and sadness, 
horrified and unbelieving at the scene before her. "Okami!" 
she shouted.
	But he made no response, lost in a cold, dark sleep as 
he remained in the arms of this Empress of evil. Instead, 
the harsh taunting laughter of Mistress 9 echoed across the 
devastated park.
	Dark mists began to filter out from the shadows of the 
trees, swirling around the demoness and the fallen wolf. 
Mistress 9's cackles became louder now. "He was but the 
first of you all to die. Let him serve as an example that 
no matter how hard you fight, not one of you will survive."
	The dark eyes of Mistress 9 focused on her quivering 
form. "Sayonara, Hotaru."
	And with one final laugh the demoness was swallowed 
up, taking him into the folds of darkness. A gust of wind 
swept through the park, dissipating the mists. Everything 
grew still in the aftermath; the only testimonies to the 
battle were the scars upon the trees and the grass. And 
those who had fallen to the attacks of dark magik.
	"She's gone back to the Dreamworld," the raven angel 
said. "And she's taken Okami with her."
	She turned away and looked at the others. The tall 
sandy-blonde was as battered as the raven knight, the aqua-
haired woman at the sandy-blonde's side. 
	"You always have to rush into things, Haruka," the 
aqua-haired woman said quietly. "Rest now, and I'll scold 
you later."
	The dark-haired prince was in the company of the 
odango-haird blonde and the raven-haired shrine girl. The 
Wanderer seemed oblivious to his bloodied shoulder. Many of 
the others were bruised and cut but not critically injured. 
 	She looked back at the odango-haired blonde, her 
golden cat-eyes slowly fading to reveal two sad but 
beautiful violet eyes. "I want to thank you for what you 
did, Usagi," she said quietly. "For the fight all of you 
helped me with. Perhaps we may meet together in another 
life, or another dream."
	Her tone was message enough.
	"Hotaru-chan...." the odango-haired blonde whispered 
hoarsely, clutching the dark-haired prince.	
	"What are you doing, Hotaru?" Karasu asked, taking a 
step forward.
	"I'm going after her," she answered. "I don't care 
where she goes; no place is safe for her now." Fierce cat-
eyes flashed once again. "I will have my revenge."
	"Hotaru, you can't win this fight," the tall brunette 
said. "Mistress 9 is more powerful now than she was before. 
None of us could touch her even when we combined our 
magiks."
	"I have to do this," she answered. "I owe Okami that 
much."
	She turned her head to the midnight skies, finding 
partial comfort in the warm beams of moonlight falling down 
upon her pale face. This might be the last time she ever 
saw the moon again. Her eyes closed momentarily as she let 
her skin soak up its rays. A smile flickered to life, a 
peace of what would come. 
	With a deep breath her violet eyes opened again. The 
fight was far from being over; the only difference now were 
the raising of the stakes. "I am their Darkqueen, and I 
will fight even for only one of them. There is a clan still 
alive, and they are in danger." Her eyes narrowed. "And 
what's more, I will not allow her to claim my Okami for her 
own."
	"You're too young to go up against something like 
that," the aqua-haired woman gently protested, not wanting 
to let her go. 
	"I'm not a little girl anymore," she snapped.
	"Hotaru," the blue-haired genius said, nursing a 
wounded arm.
	"Let her be," Karasu stated, placing a restraining 
hand on the blue-haired genius. "This Mistress Nine has 
just taken the life of a Mystwolf, and whoever's left will 
hunt her down until they kill her. And right now, Hotaru's 
the only Mystwolf left."
	They turned as a new tempest swept through the 
devastated park. A violet aura was glowing from her body, 
streams of sparkling silver winds dancing around her. With 
the glaive in her hands she cast one final look at her 
friends.
	Then she faced the dark shadows, jamming the base of 
her weapon into the ground. Everyone shielded their eyes as 
a pillar of light shot up from where she stood, reaching 
out to the stars and merging with the pale glow of the 
moon. As abruptly as the light had exploded it died out, 
sucked into a crater left in the earth.
	But she was no longer there in the park. Like Mistress 
9 and the fallen Mystwolf the demoness had claimed, she had 
vanished in that explosion of light. 
	"What just happened?" the blue-haired girl asked.
	"She jumped between realms," Karasu answered, wincing 
as he moved his shoulder. "Hotaru just crossed over into 
the Dreamworld."
	"Masaka!" the dark-haired shrine girl exclaimed. "If 
she does that, she'll become a lost soul!"
	"You don't understand," the raven angel countered 
solemnly, leaning on the tall brunette for support. "Hotaru 
has Mystwolf blood running through her body. Like them, she 
can now cross over at will."
	"Then it's not finished," the shrine protege stated.
	"But can she win against Mistress Nine?" the tall 
brunette asked.
	"That wasn't just Mistress Nine," the Wanderer 
countered. "There was something else behind the facade that 
wasn't human or of this world."
	The blue-haired genius looked at Karasu. "A 
Shadowdemon?"
	"I thought they weren't supposed to be able to cross 
between worlds," the aqua-haired woman said.
	"She's something new," stated a new voice. 
	They all turned and saw the raven knight limping his 
way between the trees. Though bandaged up and still 
sporting many scars, the raven knight was alive and awake.
	"Kishi," the tall brunette said quietly.
	"Sorry I couldn't make it here fast enough," Kishi 
said, wincing through the pain in his side. "I may be 
awake, but I'm far from recovering. However, I felt this 
magik of your battle, and I've never seen of her kind 
before among the demons."
	The odango-haired blonde looked down at the dark-
haired prince. "Mistress Nine was destroyed a long time 
ago. She had possessed Hotaru in trying to bring an entity 
called Pharaoh Ninety into our solar system. When Hotaru 
retook her own mind and became Sailor Saturn, Mistress Nine 
ceased to exist."
	"It would appear as if someone chose to resurrect 
her," the aqua-haired woman remarked grimly.
	"Impossible," the dark-haired shrine girl countered. 
"There was nothing of Mistress Nine left to resurrect."
	"What if it invaded her mind?" the blue-haired genius 
asked. "Could a Shadowdemon use the memories of Mistress 
Nine to resurrect her?"
	"That would explain a lot of things," Karasu agreed. 
"The Shadowdemon would gain incredible powers from both 
worlds. No wonder none of us could stop her."
	"Shadowdemons attack when your guard is at its 
lowest," Kishi explained. "If it attacked Hotaru's mind, 
then it gained magik from Earth along with its Dreamworld 
magik. She could cross through at will."
	"That creature is no longer Shadowdemon or human, but 
a powerful enemy none the less," the raven angel agreed 
quietly. "If it merged with this Mistress Nine, then the 
demon gained her powers...and a thirst for revenge to 
destroy everything Hotaru loves. What other magik could 
Hotaru weild to destroy her?" 
	The odango-haired blonde's eyes grew wider. "No...."
	"Shimatta," the tall brunette whispered. 
	Everyone but those originally from the Dreamworld 
seemed possessed by incredible fear, becoming silent, their 
bodies trembling.
	"This can't be good," Karasu remarked sourly.
	"What power does Sailor Saturn possess?" the raven 
angel pressed.
	"She is the soldier of death and rebirth," the aqua-
haired woman stated. "Within Hotaru is the power to destroy 
the world."



	It was the 13th hour as she alighted the tower. 
	This place was a Shadow kingdom, lost to the forces of 
the Shadowdemons. A domain torn apart and reborn into 
chaotic evils, it was forever cloaked beneath swirling 
stormclouds and streaks of blue lightening.
	All around enormous beasts were circling, unleashing 
howls and bellows that made her shudder at the sounds. They 
were the serpynts, wild and rampaging creatures meant for 
the lesser spawns to ride upon during conquests.
	She was only a few paces from the edge of a precipice, 
and far far below her was nothing but a pulsating mass of 
substance, perhaps cloud or perhaps something far worse. 
But that was lost in the distance. She was atop a lofty 
column of rock that jutted out from the pulsating darkness; 
the air here was cold and alive in blak magik.
	And the surface of this column was round, in the form 
of a clock. Dreamworld runes numbering thirteen ran around 
the perimeter, but there were no hands to tell the hour or 
minute. Instead there was a dark circle in the centre. 
Within it was a reflection of the Earth, her homeworld.
	"Welcome Hotaru," the voice of Mistress 9 echoed 
across the screeching winds. "I'm surprised you found the 
courage to face me in my own domain."
	A silhouette took form before her, sauntering towards 
the middle of the clock. And the cruel laughter began 
again. Mistress 9 appeared, the limp and lifeless body of 
Okami in the demoness' arms.
	She clutched her glaive a little tighter. "Release him 
now," she stated evenly.
	Mistress 9 blatantly laughed at her. "Hotaru-chan, you 
come into my realm, into my kingdom, and then you demand 
for one who is already dead?"
	Then the demoness unceremoniously let him fall to the 
ground, his blood no longer flowing yet the wound remaining 
grotesquely open for her see.
	"It's refreshing to see you face me instead of running 
like a little child," Mistress 9 said. "Now I will have the 
pleasure of making you scream in agony before I end your 
pathetic life. A pity, really; you and I could have ruled 
Earth, Hotaru. We could have been queens alongside Pharaoh 
Ninety!"
	"Mistress Nine was destroyed," she snapped, her wolf 
eyes flashing in the glow of the lightening. "I overcame 
your evil. You cannot be her!"
	"I was once a Shadowdemon," Mistress 9 hissed back. 
"But when I invaded your mind, I found this being of 
destruction and evil lying dead in sleep. Welcome to the 
resurrection of Mistress Nine, Hotaru. We have become one, 
and together we shall finish what we once started."
	Her eyes widened as the memory of that sudden 
throbbing in her skull returned. Could that have been when 
she was violated by a demon? It frightened her to think 
that they could attack a dreamer so easily.
	Mistress 9 looked down at the slain Mystwolf. "Why do 
you love him? I cannot believe you would be this foolish to 
come after me even knowing you both would die."
	She lowered her glaive, looking at her beloved with 
sad memories of their kisses and quiet moments. Never again 
would she be able to share them with him.
	"I have seen in his vicious eyes a quiet gentleness 
whenever he holds me," she answered. "It is something you 
could never understand, Mistress Nine. You are twisted and 
evil, incapable of such emotions. I pity you, demoness; you 
may be my own dark shadow, but without a soul to feel 
anything except a bitterness for destruction."
	Mistress 9 visibly bristled at that. "I saw your 
memories, Hotaru. We could have accomplished great things, 
but instead you fought me, and look what it did to you! You 
became a child again, unable to reclaim your former life."
	She took a step forward, yet found herself unable to 
attack as the memories she had for so long kept buried 
returned to haunt her. Of who she once was, of the hurt she 
had caused to so many of her friends.
	"I'll never forgive you for the pain you caused me," 
Mistress 9 snarled. "So I will take everything precious to 
you. First your Mystwolves, and then those whom you call 
friends. Those Senshi who helped you fight me, and their 
raven angels. You abandoned me, betrayed me, and for that I 
will make you beg for a quick death. This is the final hour 
you and your precious world have, Hotaru. When you are 
dead, I shall bring the Pharaoh back to earth and claim it 
for the Deathbusters."
	Her brooding ended with that, and cold vengeance arose 
within her soul. This was the reason she had chased 
Mistress 9 into the Dreamworld. Everyone had tried to 
protect her, and was hurt in the process.
	Okami had paid with his life.
	"Tonight may be a good night to die," she said, her 
tongue running down her twin fangs. "but I'm not about be 
the one who dies."
	Mistress 9 knelt down and savagely yanked up his head 
by his silver hair. "My patience is wearing thin. Take a 
good look at him, Hotaru! You shall be joining him soon, 
and then I will flaunt your corpses in front of your 
friends before they join you both!"
	She stared at the face of her Mystwolf, of her 
guardian and lover. His closed eyes were lifeless, his face 
pale and cold without breath or beating of a heart. All 
because of her, all for her. 
	"I won't fail," she whispered fiercely. "I won't fail 
now." She lifted her head to Mistress 9, tears spilling 
down her face. "Damn you, do you hear me?! I will not give 
up!!"
	And then Omaki's eyes opened.
	Suddenly his hands snapped up, clamping down on 
Mistress 9's wrist. He leaped to his feet, yanking on the 
demoness' arm.
	"HOTARU-SAMA!" he bellowed, throwing Mistress 9 over 
his head, launching the demoness towards the precipice of 
the clock. Mistress 9 shrieked, tumbling across the uneven 
stones, stopping right at the edge.
	She froze, sucking in her breath. No...this couldn't 
be. She had watched him die, breathe his last word that was 
of love. How was this possible?
	He stalked towards her and took her hand in his. 
"Hotaru-sama," he said quietly, smiling and baring his 
fangs. Leaning forward he kissed her passionately, and she 
felt his lips as his tongue met hers.
	This wasn't a dream.
	He was somehow alive.
	"Masaka!" Mistress 9 exclaimed angrily, rising up. "I 
tore your body apart! Not even a Mystwolf could have 
recovered from that damage!"
	This time it was his turned to chuckle savagely. He 
reached into his mangled chest, and pulled out from the 
gore a small object. Though stained with his blood, its 
form and essence was undeniable.
	He held in his hand a crystal orb, an illusion.
	"The Wanderer wishes to extend his kindest personal 
regards," he snarled, closing his fist around the crystal, 
shattering it. The hideous wound in his chest vanished, 
rippling like glassy waters.
	"If it's any consolation," he growled. "it did hurt 
like a bitch when you tried to kill me."
	Mistress 9 quivered with uncontrollable fury in 
watching them. 
	"Hotaru-sama," he said, turning to her, a malevolent 
spark in his golden cat-eyes. "Shall we end this now?"
	She smiled and nodded, abruptly grabbing his choker 
and lowering his head. Passionately she kissed him, 
exchanging the favour he gave to her. He wrapped her up in 
his arms, and they tried to steal the magik for each 
other's souls in that kiss. They drew back, and as he 
unsheathed his claws she brandished her Silence Glaive.
	"I will not be insulted like this," Mistress 9 
snarled, hair rippling and growing with a life of its own. 
"Yurusenai, Hotaru! Yurusenai!" 
	He hissed at the demoness, his eyes projecting the 
vengeance he was bent on exacting. "Upon your command, my 
queen," he said, crouching low.
	The blade of her weapon started to glow as if it were 
being heated by fire. "Okami-chan," she stated. "Take the 
initiative."
	He chuckled. "As you wish, Hotaru-sama."
	He lunged for Mistress 9, his body pouncing with 
incredible speed, leaving behind a trail of the silver 
light of his battle aura.
	Mistress 9 howled in fury, lashing out and using the 
blak magik of the kingdom to fuel this rage. Okami grunted 
as he was struck again with the full force of the demoness' 
power, sent toppling back even though his own aura was at 
its maximum.
	"Baka," Mistress 9 laughed at him.
	He grinned wickedly. "Who's the fool, demon?"
	Mistress 9 spun around upon hearing her words, the 
summoning of an attack: 
	"Silence Glaive Surprise!"
	There was a moment of dead silence; nothing happened 
in that moment. A split second later a blazing explosion 
tore through the clock, enveloping Mistress 9. The 
demoness' scream was abruptly cut off somewhere in the 
blast, and became silent.
	"For the Mystwolves," she said, watching as the 
smouldering remains of the clock came into view, a jagged 
crack shearing off the runes from 'one' to 'four'. "And for 
my friends."
	Suddenly another explosion of magik rocked the column, 
violently shaking the entire clock. He leaped and used 
himself as a shield as stones and debris were thrown in all 
directions. 
	"Shin'ne!" the voice of Mistress 9 howled, blak magik 
erupting towards them.
	She erected her barrier to block the attack, 
protecting them both. As the dust and smoke cleared, the 
figure of Mistress 9 slowly stalked out through the debris. 
A trickle of blood ran down from Mistress 9's cheek.
	"I swear I will skin you alive and make sure to keep 
you alive," the demoness snarled. "Then all your friends 
will be hung one by one next to you."
	"She looks thoroughly pissed," he remarked.
	"Shimatta," she muttered. The Shadowdemon magik and 
the powers of Mistress Nine had given the demoness more 
strength than they could do damage to.
	"I hate to say it," he growled. "but we cannot kill 
her, Hotaru-sama. Not here in her own realm. Perhaps 
tonight is a good night for us to die after all."
	But not every option had been exhausted; she still had 
one final attack left, one she had tried to use once on 
Earth. Only the odango-haired blonde had stopped her, 
protecting everyone. And now she found herself once again 
in the same situation.
	Only this time there could be no rescue.
	"There is one way," she said quietly.
	He glanced back at her, cocking an eyebrow "And that 
is?"
	"Destroy this kingdom," she answered solemnly. "I have 
one last attack that will annihilate this place forever. If 
the Shadowdemon has erected barriers to hold us in here, 
then the damage will only be limited to this kingdom."
	"And if she hasn't?"
	She bit her lip. "Then many dreamers may not wake up 
in the morning."
	"If I have to die," he said, moving in behind her and 
wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "then at least it 
will be with you, and taking that creature down with us."
	"What about a possibly reckless gesture?" she 
inquired.
	"If we don't stop her now there might not be anyone 
left to dream come tomorrow night," he answered simply, 
perhaps growling or perhaps purring in his smooth tone.
	She nodded. "There will be a moment of pain, Okami-
chan. And then maybe we can meet in someone else's 
beautiful dreams."
	He kissed the base of her neck, withdrawing slowly. 
"It has been an honour to serve you, Hotaru-chan."
	The Mystwolf stood behind her, focusing his battle 
aura into her body to give her more endurance for the final 
blow. Even though they were not together in body, in their 
last moment they would be joined at the soul with magik.
	"You would be willing to sacrifice this entire realm 
just to destroy me?" Mistress 9 cackled, blak magik rising 
up to meet her challenge. "If only you could have done the 
same for Earth, Hotaru!"
	Her eyes narrowed, the lethal magik within her soul 
manifesting itself into the blade of the Silence glaive. It 
was time for the last proclamation, the sentence of 
oblivion for this place. "Death Reborn--!"
	"Hold!" thundered a new voice.
	Suddenly the storm overhead grew fiercer, and a thick 
stream of lightening bolts struck the centre of the ruined 
clock, channelling together to give way to a new figure 
appearing in the battle. Another woman, though once again 
hidden in a silhouette. But there came with this shadow an 
aura of incredible darkness and evil, something that could 
be felt across even this poisoned domain.
	He moved in between her and the newest shadows, on the 
defensive once more. "The Shadowqueen," he growled. "What 
is she doing here?"
	Yet while he and his Darkqueen braced themselves for 
another struggle, they found themselves ignored completely.
	The Shadowqueen turned to Mistress 9. "Explain 
yourself."
	"Majesty," Mistress 9 said, reverently bowing. "My 
Empress, look! I have almost captured this girl's magik for 
you. I have even wiped out all but one of the Mystwolves 
who roam our world. Who else can claim such victories?"
	Suddenly Mistress 9 was blown backwards, knocked aside 
by a fierce blast of blak magik...that had come from the 
Shadowqueen. The demoness shrieked, the form of Mistress 9 
coming apart at the seams.
	The silhouette then focused onto them. "Kill her," the 
Shadowqueen instructed.
	"My Empress!" Mistress 9 screamed in newfound terror. 
	She deliberately hesitated, trying to catch herself in 
another dream. Tales upon tales of the cruelty of the 
Shadowdemons had come to her friends with the raven angels. 
But the fact that the Empress of every last living 
nightmare was telling her to destroy a creature of its own 
evil seemed too strange to believe.
	"What are you waiting for, warrior of Saturn?" the 
Empress said. "Destroy her!"
	"Her demon power's been sealed off," he said to her. 
"Destroy her, Hotaru."
	She nodded, stepping forward and raising the Silence 
Glaive to the air. "Silence Glaive Surprise!" she shouted, 
levelling the blade with Mistress 9's face. 
	The demoness' final expression was twisted and lost in 
the attack, but the scream of Mistress 9 carried on far 
after the woman's face was torn apart, echoing inside the 
winds. As the magik died down, she stared at the remains.
	Nothing of Mistress 9 was left. 
	Her darkest nightmare come to life had moved on in 
death; she sighed in relief, the tension seeming to 
disappear with the wisps of smoke rising out from the rocky 
terrain of the ravaged clock.
	"Minna," she said softly, her forehead pressed against 
the shaft of the glaive. "The threat is over. I have 
avenged you all."
	The ripples of the Shadowqueen caught her attention. 
She turned, though not ready for a fight. If they had been 
targets of this entity, they would have been killed while 
Mistress 9 was still alive.
	"Why?" she asked.
	The shadowy figure of the Empress stood out from the 
pulsating black mist before them. "Because I respect the 
Mystwolves." The Shadowqueen turned to him. "Okami-san, 
your kind has been avenged. Leave it at that."
	He never spoke a word in response, growling but 
restraining himself from an attack none the less. In this 
case there was no debt owed to either side; both had 
benefited. His bloodlust was over, and the Shadowqueen 
still had a world to try to conquer.
	"Sayonara, Darkqueen," the Empress said. 
	And then the clouds were sucked up in another fury of 
lightening bolts. The entire domain that had once belonged 
to the Shadowdemon become Mistress 9 was fading away, 
overtaken by the mysts that divided the realms of the 
waking hours and the kingdoms of the dreamers.
	"What happens now?" she asked, turning to him.
	He smiled, his twin fangs no longer visible. "Now we 
go home, Hotaru...together."
	Gently his hand reached out and caressed her cheek. 
She placed her own hand overtop of his, guiding him across 
her lips, down her neck, brushing over her breasts. He 
stepped in closer, his hands slipping around her waist.
	She pressed herself against his body, feeling his 
warmth and hearing his beating heart as she rested her head 
against his chest. Now she could only see the two of them 
drifting inside the mysts, dancing inside their dreams. She 
tilted her head, letting him brush aside her raven dark 
hair.
	"Hotaru-sama," he said, his golden cat-eyes looking 
down at her with dedicated affection. He lowered his head, 
and their lips touched. Her entire body was filled with a 
warmth that flooded her soul and caused her heart to beat 
faster. She clung to him tighter, lacing her hands behind 
his neck. 
	And it was as they became lost in the kiss that they 
faded from the Dreamworld.


	It was midnight in the jungle forest, and a crescent 
moon was shining down upon this realm that somewhere became 
the domain of the dragons. Here, nestled against a series 
of plateaus, a clearing had given birth to a beautiful 
spring of steaming warm water.
	 She stood waist-deep in the hotspring, sighing with 
closed violet eyes as the waterfall splashed down onto her 
pale skin, steam rising up from her body. Such was her 
contentment that she barely even noticed when fingertips 
began tracing the contours of her body along with the 
running water.
	Slowly she turned around, demurely opening her eyes. 
The deep violet hue was replaced with a golden glow and the 
eyes possessed of a cat. With a smile she lifted her arms 
and wrapped them around her lover's neck.
	"Komban wa, Okami-chan," she said.
	"Good evening to you as well, Hotaru-sama," he 
answered, tilting his head so that it too was being 
submerged beneath the waterfall, his wild bangs of silver 
clinging to his forehead.
	She wiped away the damp bangs, gazing into his own 
pair of golden eyes. Then pushing off the floor of the 
spring, she pressed her lips against his. They drank from 
each other's magik for a long time, finally breaking away 
with a passionate gasp for air.
	"So," he asked her. "Where do you want to stay 
tonight? What places would you like to roam, my queen?"
	"Does it really matter?" she purred, playfully nipping 
at the base of his neck. "We have eternity in our dreams to 
go anywhere."
	He chuckled, stroking her hair before unceremoniously 
pushing her backwards into the water. She let out a playful 
shriek and thrashed about, grabbing hold of his wrist and 
taking him down with her.
	They fought and kissed for much of the night, their 
magiks merging and becoming one at the body and soul. He 
took her hand in his, directing it down his chest until it 
rested over his heart. A strange warmth radiated out from 
his body as she touched his skin, flowing through her arm, 
the sensations causing her to gasp in ecstatic delight. She 
had forgotten about the incredible magik the Mystwolves 
possessed, how much it could be manifested with a mere 
touch or thought.
	Now she was sharing a part of that fierce magik.
	"Can you feel the pulse of the wolf?" he whispered. 
"Can you feel the Myst, the blood of our dreams?"
	"More than that," she answered, her hot breath causing 
his ears to twitch. "I can feel the beating heart of my 
lover."
	They made love together that night amidst the flowing 
waters of the hotspring, and both seemed to exchange turns 
in taking the other. He guided her to the soft grasses on 
the edge of the spring, and there they became fiercer.
	For a time he was on top, their bodies pressed closely 
together as she let him keep the rhythm. But all too 
quickly she rolled him over, pinning him to the ground and 
taking control for herself, pushing herself over the edge 
as he lifted a howl to the skies.
	She lowered herself on top of him as the climax 
passed, purring contently. "I hope this dream never ends," 
she sighed.
	"And it never shall," he answered. "For I will always 
be with you, my queen. Even if the sun fades and the moon 
falls, I will never let anything happen to you Hotaru-sama, 
my beloved...."


	Somewhere in the Dreamworld there is a place forged of 
the most ancient of magiks, the blood of our dreams. That 
place is called the valley of the Myst, a place as 
legendary as Earth's Atlantis and as beautiful as the 
whispered realm of Crystal Tokyo. It was here where the 
firstborn of this world, the Mystwolves, were said to come 
together every century for the Gathering, a ceremony to 
celebrate the ascension of their Darkqueen.
	At the edge of a myst-laiden forest surrounding the 
valley an odango-haired blonde and a dark-haired prince 
waited quietly, hand in hand.
	"When will it begin?" the girl asked, barely able to 
contain the excitement inside.
	"Soon, Usa-ko...soon," the prince answered with a 
kiss. 
	The odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired prince 
exchanged caring smiles as they watched from the edge of 
the forest. Far across the valley, a silver wolf of the 
ancient myst and a young girl with pale skin and raven dark 
hair frolicked and ran through the valley with each other.
	And then with a cry that shattered the night, their 
howlsong was lifted up into the heavens. Neither one could 
tell which cry was the girl's or the wolf's. Their haunting 
cries were suddenly joined by a chorus of new howlsongs as 
the last surviving clan of Mystwolves emerged from the 
silver clouds slowly creeping in around the forest.
	Suddenly even more howlsongs were lifted up to the 
midnight skies as ghostly Darkpacks seemed to spill out 
from the myst, wolves borne of the very essense that forged 
this realm of magik. These celestial Mystwolves gathered 
around the two central wolves who had started the haunting 
howlsong.
	"Hotaru-sama," he purred, nuzzling cheek to cheek.
	"Okami-chan," she whispered, wrapping her arms around 
the wolf. She stared out at the souls of the Mystwolves 
who, even in death, were at her service. They did not bow 
but instead lifted their heads to the sky and began another 
chorus of haunting wolf cries.
	Their Darkqueen had been found. 
	And at the edge of a mountain high above, the Wanderer 
stood and watched the return of the firstborns. The smile 
of a personal memory emerging, Karasu plucked one of the 
crystal orbs spinning in his palm and gently blew it into 
the sky, letting it float away.
	"Enjoy your dream, Hotaru-chan," Karasu said quietly.
	The Wanderer turned away, and began to roam once more, 
the celebration of the Mystwolves continuing long after 
Karasu's form had disappeared into the shadows.

=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 6th Night - The Lover's Tale
Rated R


	Nexus: (n) 1. connection, interconnection, tie, link 
	  2. a connected group or series  

			-Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary


	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be brought 
to life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for 
others to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a 
thousand dreamers and their dreams. Within every soul lies a story 
to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many 
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko 
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. They 
belong in her embrace. But the raven angels, these knights and 
warriors and their Dreamworld belong to another, and they are of my 
skin and soul. I embrace their world and their shadows as my own 
children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their 
creators. The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong 
to Naoko Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a 
part of her stories. But the realm of the waking dreamers, and both 
the angels and the demons that exist within them, are a part of my 
own story.  Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles beyond 
the moon, and my guardian angels belong with the Torii's beyond our 
dreams. 
	One of honor does not become a petty thief; I ask for your 
requests if you wish my Dreamworlders to wander into other worlds 
and other stories.

	-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)



	ALL THE LOVERS IN THE WORLD

	With urgent hands
	We excited
	A fire so hot
	Two lives were ignited
	Now I'm left here on my own
	But I'll never be alone

	Down forbidden streets I talk with
	Every single step I walk with
	All the lovers in the world
	Though the lonely night's returning
	I can feel the flame that's burning
	All the lovers in the world

	Virgin lips I have tasted
	Love so pure, not a drop was wasted
	Paradise we shared together
	Lives inside of me forever

	Since you touched me
	I can't be free
	This is every lover's destiny


			Lawrence Gowan,
			from "Lost Brotherhood", 1990.


	Together they share moonlight, ocean waves, quiet forests and 
highest of skies. Joined at the soul that is their dreams, they have 
come into this Dreamworld to live out romance in a realm that has 
not forgotten the ancient magik.
	I am one who remains alone, destined to wander from one end of 
this world to the next. Perhaps I will find my way out and find 
love. Perhaps not. Doomed to be a soul lost between worlds, I walk 
amidst moonlight and sunlight.
	And yet I am not the only one blessed and cursed by this 
strange immortality. There is another kindred such as I, though she 
belongs between worlds for a different reason. We stumbled into each 
other centuries ago, and have been friends ever since by our common 
link.
	I've heard legend of a soldier who walks the ends of time from 
one eternity to the next, never remembered yet never forgotten. She 
has guarded the futures of many a young child, standing amidst the 
shadows that become our threads of fate and destiny. She carries 
with her a staff containing a power capable of waking the dead with 
a silent scream. It is with this staff that she moves through the 
winds of time and space as I with my illusions move through the 
borders between realms and worlds.
	Tonight is another night when we return to each other's 
company and watch our friends dance inside their dreams. Tonight is 
one night where the two of us might forget fate and enjoy the magik 
sprawled out before us in one kingdom after another.
	Do you believe in love?
	I do, and fight for it. I almost found it twice; the first 
time it was torn from me, and the second I let go of my own free 
will. I may never find love like that again. But for now I watch and 
find sanctuary in the smiles of those girls and their soulmates.
	Let me tell you a story....


	THE LOVER'S TALE


	Let the darkness come down like rain, droplets of shadows 
splashing across the surface of the world. For tonight is the eve of 
December 24th, a time where magik is reaching a peak, and romance 
gently falls like the snowflakes of a December winter.
	Somewhere out there is a city destined to become legend, ruled 
over by an ethereal princess and her dark-haired prince. The sun has 
already set and the light of a pale crescent moon is shining down on 
the people enjoying the snowfall in these later hours of the night.
	And yet in this city of Tokyo there are those already sleeping 
yet not without dreams. Together they have shared laughter and 
tears, blood and roses. Their magik is unlike anything ever dreamed 
of before in an eternity's sleep. One by one they found a love and a 
beloved who would be at their side regardless of the dangers or the 
hurt. Now is the time where they can dance and dream.
	This is their night....


	Up on the lofty peak he stood, staring down at the eerie 
crimson glow cast upon the ground and the steep rocky slopes. The 
thin smoke filtering out from the lone volcano's crater added to the 
strange taboo this kingdom held with it.
	He was a young man in a dark suit and a flowing silver cloak, 
long shining blonde hair dancing around a pair of shades overtop his 
crystal blue eyes. His left arm was bandaged and in a sling, a wound 
chosen to be kept after a vicious battle that had spilled over 
between two realms.
	Yet it was not without usefulness, for in this hand he was 
twirling about three crystal orbs that seemed to sparkle when caught 
by the rays of the eternal moonlight. Gracefully he plucked one the 
orbs and blew on it, the sphere lifting into the air and sailing on 
the winds of this kingdom.
	"Such a beautiful night tonight," he remarked to no one in 
particular--or perhaps just to himself. "A shame to have to spend it 
like this."
	A second crystal was sent on its way to the skies, slowly 
fading until its glimmer became lost among the stars. As he played 
with the final crystal illusion, he stared out at the vast and 
seemingly barren land; incredible to think that beautiful dreams 
were in abundance at this place.
	Then a new magik began to waft out from over the rocks, moving 
like water yet with the form of heavy mists. A new portal was 
opening up, one not quite of Earth and yet not quite of the 
Dreamworld. Like him, this laid somewhere in between each one. The 
mist slowly dissipated, wisps caught in the cool winds and fading 
away to reveal a tall young woman who once had a mortal age to call 
her own. But now, like him, her physical appearance was more than 
deceiving.
	Incredibly long and dark hair, a deep emerald green shade if 
caught just right by beams of light, flowed down past her waist, 
rustling with the pleated skirt of her sailor battle fuku. Her 
movements could not be described as graceful but instead fluid, and 
smooth with each action.
	He turned his entire body now, pushing the cloak over his 
shoulders so it billowed up behind him and over the precipice of the 
volcano. "Oyasumi nasai, Setsuna," he said.
	"If you would call it that, Karasu," she replied.
	The Wanderer lowered his shades slightly. "A little 
melancholic tonight?"
	She nodded. "The memories, that's all. You of all people 
should know how they can bring laughter and tears at the same time."
	"Hai hai," he agreed. "So, what brings you here tonight?"
	She shifted positions, gripping her key-shaped staff. The 
garnet orb at the top of the staff glowed violet in the night. And 
then her fuku was lost in a cascading light that flowed down her 
body. In its place was an elegant evening gown tailor-made not only 
for her, but for this world.
	"We agreed to walk together on this night," she said. "Like we 
have once every century. Catching up on good times come and gone, as 
you so once eloquently put it."
	"It's the winter solstice already?" he remarked. He smiled, 
removing his shades and having them disappear with a mere gesture. 
"Gomen ne, Setsuna; I think my perception of time has been 
permanently warped by the shifting mysts of the Dreamworld."
	"Not any more than mine in null time," she countered. "And I 
can still keep track of dates."
	He winced. "Ouch; that hurt." 	
	She walked out until she was standing beside him, and surveyed 
the shades of red and blue cast across not only his face and the 
land, but her face as well.
	"And I see you've actually managed to hurt yourself," she 
remarked.
	He laughed, glancing down at his bandaged arm. "Oh this? 
Daijobu; I think I'll survive." His crystal blue eyes returned to 
gazing at the horizon, where a strange glow held the line between 
shadows and skies. "It's been too long, Setsuna. I'm glad you're 
here, on tonight of all nights."
	She smiled. "Well then, where would you like to go to first, 
Wanderer?"


	It was raining though not with water, wet and cold to the 
touch. No, here it was a gentle downpour of cherry blossoms, the 
frail petals gliding down past them, cascades of pale white and 
pink, and sometimes even a shade of blue. The petals tapped the 
glassy surface of the waters, sending ripples upon ripples stretching 
across the surface, distorting the image of a young man staring up 
at himself and down at his reflection. 
	Long strands of earthen-brown hair dangled far past his 
shoulders, almost masking his face, shimmering with a multitude of 
the delicate blossoms falling down. His one hand resting upon an 
exotic mask of the living ocean and crimson kanji, he watched the 
waters stretching out from one horizon to the next.
	High overhead the kiss of a pale white crescent moon spilled 
down over the world he was in, shimmering beams playing amidst the 
waves of the oceans. And surrounding the eternal moon in the palace 
of the midnight skies was a court of twinkling stars.
	There was a strange silence in the quiet sounds whispering 
from around him. He could hear the whistling of an evening breeze, 
the winds tugging at the edges of his suit, pushing his cloak out to 
one side where it flapped and rippled in a shade of jade green. And 
in the midst of it all he could hear orchestral music and the 
laughter of dancers in the Moonlight Masquerade.
	Indeed it was the floating palace's shadow cast over him as he 
sat there, one leg dangling over the water. The entire trimaran 
bounced lightly with the tides, though it would prove near 
impossible for him to slip off the hull.
	And then life came to the serene ocean, brilliant in display, 
breathtaking in beauty as he had patiently waited for. First it was 
just one to break the surface; glistening droplets of ocean water 
caught the beams of moonlight and sparkled like a diamond on the 
solitary dolphin's body as it leaped high into the air before him.
	The dolphin crashed back down into the water, sending up a 
cascade of white foam and cold ocean. More cherry blossoms were 
scattered across the skies, even more now being captured by the 
ocean, the petals dancing in their own respects.
	A second dolphin punched through, emitting a joyous series of 
clicks and squeaks as it turned onto its side and dove back beneath 
the ocean. Another cut across the waters, and then another, and 
another still. Within moments an entire pod was circling around the 
area, some venturing up to the side of the trimaran where he sat. A 
warm hand and gentle petting was met with, the masquerade wraith 
smiling as the dolphins were leaping through air and water in an 
exotic display for him.
	And then he saw her.
	Clinging to the dorsal fin of a dolphin, she was learning of 
their world in the way they moved, her hair shimmering a light shade 
of blue in the night and damply clinging to her forehead. Bright 
eyes of deep ocean blue were wide in delight. She was naked as she 
swam with then, born of the elemental water and graceful in its 
domain. Her face was one of thrilled pleasure, laughing with the 
sleek forms of the silver dolphins.
	"Ami-chan," he whispered fondly.
	She was smiling as the dolphins carried her on their backs, 
and he could hear the giggling laughter from her lips amidst the 
splashing. Far away from the doubts and questions of another world 
that saw the light of a noonday sun, here she no longer had anything 
to fear.
	A single, delicate note sounded, echoing across the Ocean of 
Silver Orchids, producing music that possessed the very winds of the 
skies. The dolphins took up the note with a chorus, and she smiled 
as she heard the music.
	It was the melody of a crystal flute, breathing life as he 
breathed life into it with his lips. One more breath gave renewed 
life to a note that echoed across the kingdom.
	She let herself swim of her own accord, moving away from the 
dolphins. They in turn moved around her like a royal envoy, keeping 
their distance yet keeping their guard. As she tread the water, she 
waited for his call.
	He stood, the flute fading away to shadows. With a rapid 
gesture, his hand was raised over his head. And the waters responded 
to the call of the magik within his blood. A geyser erupted, sending 
her into the air yet not flinging her aside. Instead she was being 
carried by the waters, with the grace and eloquence that only a 
princess of such an element could possess.
	Eyes closed, head lifted up to the heavens, arms out by her 
sides, she flew with the churning water, much of her body lost in 
the frothing crests around her. The magik within the current carried 
her the distance, and with a sixth sense all her own she let her 
body move with the waves.
In quiet beauty she alighted the hull of the trimaran, her 
feet meeting the sleek metal with barely even a sound. Hands crossed 
demurely over her breasts, she slowly lifted her head and opened her 
eyes to gaze upon her beloved.
	He smiled, his long braid of earthen-brown hair dancing past 
his shoulders in the winds. Holding out his hand he snatched some of 
the petals from the air. She sighed as he released the petals just 
over her head, the blossoms caressing her body as they drifted past 
her, a few clinging to the water droplets on her skin.
	He brushed some of her damp bangs away from her eyes, 
delivering sensual kisses on her skin, working his way down her nose 
and cheeks until after what seemed like an agonizing eternity his 
lips met hers.
	She kissed his lips, feeling his hot breath against her cool 
body. Her hands moved in around his tuxedo jacket, fingers lacing 
behind his back. His garments were growing wet as the water on her 
body was passed on to him, yet he showed no sign of disliking this.
	Instead he pressed his body in closer against hers, cool skin 
meeting warm, each one feeding off the other. She pressed her lips 
against his once more, his hands sliding up the contours of her 
body. She shivered as he traced his way along her sides and up her 
back, rounding over her shoulders and darting along her neck.
	"Meikyu," she moaned softly, breaking apart from their kiss.
	His kiss was still working its way down her body; is hot moist 
breath sending her nerves on edge as they slowly moved down her neck 
and around her shoulders.
	She stepped back, her foot meeting with the soft mesh 
tarpaulin between the hulls. Her weight was thrown off, and she fell 
backwards, gripping onto the lapels of his tuxedo and pulling him 
down with her. They flopped down side by side, bouncing on the 
canvas.
	"You little sneak," he laughed, taking her hand and letting 
her palm rest upon his cheek. 
	She laughed too, blushing prettily. With the beckoning of her 
eyes, she drew him closer to her until her breasts were against the 
silken fabric of his suit.
	"Tonight I am yours, Ami-chan," he said quietly, kissing her 
delicately on the cheek.
	She nodded, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. "As I am for 
you, Meikyu-chan." Jade green eyes stared back at her, and she could 
see her reflection in them amidst the rainfall of cherry blossoms. 
The petals were falling from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
	"I'll be gentle," she whispered, evoking a chuckle from him.
	And there the rhythmic motions of the tides became secondary 
to their own. Ecstasy was shared between them as the droplets of 
water became droplets of sweat. Neither one dared to let go of the 
other, closer than ever before in the embrace of their soulmate.
	"Meikyu!" she cried out, her entire body shuddering. Her face 
was glowing in that vital moment, and their auras radiated out 
across the ocean waters, shimmering a pale aqua-blue in the midnight 
skies.
	She slowly lowered herself onto his chest, sighing as she 
tried to feel as much of his warm body as possible. He looked at her 
with his dragon green eyes, the eyes that had for so long been 
hidden behind a mask of living waters and crimson kanji.
	"I love you, Ami-chan," he said, his fingers stroking her 
hair. "Now and forever...."


	They walked side by side on the shores of the Ocean of the 
Silver Orchids. There was silence between them, a contentment to 
simply watch the crashing waves and the pounding surf. Off in the 
distance there was the thundering of Silvermane hooves, fading from 
their listening ears.
	Sometimes close friends are defined by how much they can talk 
to each other. Other times they are defined by how much they can 
keep silent and still enjoy the company of each other. For these 
two, this moment belonged to the latter.
	"Yare yare," the Wanderer finally said, leaping onto one of 
the massive rocks juxtaposed on the sands. "This is the first time 
in nearly ten centuries that we are not quite alone in the 
Dreamworld."
	"Usagi and her friends are out there somewhere," she agreed. 
"But I think it would be rude of us to interrupt their moments. This 
is a very romantic evening for them all."
	"It might be good revenge," he remarked with a sly grin. 
"After all, they have proven to be most disruptive from time to time 
in both our lives. Though more yours than mine, Setsuna."
	She nodded, seeing the memories flash before her eyes as if it 
were yesterday. It could have very well been yesterday, or even 
tomorrow. Time for her had been for so long been thoroughly twisted.
	He took a flying leap off the rock, his silver cloak 
disappearing as he gracefully descended, barely even making a 
footprint in the sand. His suit disappeared, a black uniform 
reminiscent of the ones worn by those of the Silver Millennium so 
ago replaced it. Pushing away some blonde bangs from around his 
shades he began the ritual of spinning around three crystal orbs in 
his one hand.
	"The siege of Nemesis has proven to be most awkward of them 
all to date," she said. "I had family lines jumping back and forth 
through the Cherry Way."
	He paused, lowering his shades. "The...Cherry Way?"
	She smiled at his confusion. "A nickname given to the passage 
where one can cross between times. Small Lady used it in coming back 
to the Tokyo of today."
	"Rei-chan told me about that," he said, pushing his shades 
back up his nose. "She also mentioned how you told Usagi that she's 
gotten to be a pain in the ass on more than one occasion."
	She chuckled, her haunting magenta eyes catching the light of 
the moon. "You don't know the half of it. Keeping the lines of space 
and time in constant synchronization is surprisingly harder than it 
looks. Even a guardian like me has to always be on alert."
	"Speaking of that," the Wanderer added. "I've been meaning to 
ask this for a few hundred years: how do you ever manage to get over 
here without being noticed as missing from your post? I mean, isn't 
that against the rules?"
	She glanced out at the large rocks bearing the full fury of 
the ocean waves. Far off in the distance was the vague silhouette of 
a floating palace; how long had it been since she had visited the 
eternal masquerade inside?
	"For starters, I only do this once a century," she answered. 
"And I can get away with leaving my post if it's an absolute 
emergency--but that's only happened very few times."
	Her voice trailed off for a moment as she saw her own death 
and the deaths of the other Senshi at the hands of Galaxia. But the 
Wanderer knew the tales of their battles, having heard them all from 
the dark-haired shrine girl.
	"I highly doubt this classifies as an emergency," he remarked.
	"Not yet," she whispered almost inaudibly. Her voice returned 
again. "The Dreamworld runs on a unique curve with my domain of null 
time; I can sneak off into this realm of the waking dreamers for 
short periods every now and then."
	"Coffee breaks," he remarked. "I don't think I've had a cup of 
coffee in a long while." With simple gesture he stretched out his 
mobile arm and there in his palm was a cup of steaming coffee. "Just 
the way you like it, Setsuna. Care for some?"
	She laughed, rolling her eyes but accepting the gift none the 
less. "Karasu," she chided playfully. "You are incorrigible!"
	He winked at her. "I know."


	She was giggling excitedly as she raced up the flight of 
stairs, her long blonde hair flowing out behind her as she turned 
and fled down the hall. Surrounded by exquisite cobblestone and an 
arched ceiling, the enormous windows openly displayed the beautiful 
night beyond.
	Stars shimmered amidst heaven's shadows in an entourage for a 
pale crescent moon eternally hung to shine down upon them. For every 
lover in the world, there was a beloved waiting for them. And she 
was a soldier for such passion, thrilled with the ecstasy of it all.
	The series of fountains and shallow channels were all around, 
tracing through the floors of grand halls now deserted. No sign of 
decay or dust was present; instead a hallowed palace built upon the 
foundations of an ancient mountainside resided here, untouched by 
age since the day it was built.
	She reached the portico of the fifth level, ducking around the 
pillars and nearly tripping into the nearest fountain. The winds 
were cool and gentle tonight, breathing sweet kisses upon her skin. 
Or were they his kisses she felt?
	"Come on, Ki-chan!" she whispered excitedly, though her voice 
was barely able to keep with that intent. A moondial was perched 
atop the spouts of the central fountain, sparkling waters showering 
down, their misty spray cooling her flushed body.
	It had been upon her dare, her teasing that brought them here 
tonight. All her idea, and thus her game to play. She giggled at the 
thought of her bedroom earlier tonight, where her raven knight had 
emerged from the shadows like he always did. The thrill of threat 
drove her over the edge every time; would tonight be a night she got 
caught?
	Tonight had not been that night, as she had exhaustedly fallen 
asleep in his arms after they were both spent, surrounded by his 
scent of dragon's fire.
	Her blue eyes darted to the enchanted lanterns dangling from 
the archways, each one bearing the kanji for 'moonlight'. The glow 
was flickering; another magik was close by. And with it the summoner 
of another magik.
	She carefully slipped out of her shoes and with bare feet 
stepped over the median separating causeway from walkway. The 
flowing waters lapped at her ankles, not deep at this point. With 
another step that send up a cascade of small droplets she began to 
move through the waters of the shallow channel cut into the floor.
	From across the fifth courtyard small cherubs fashioned from 
marble stone watched with knowing eyes and folded wings. Gazing out 
the windows she could still see the rest of the palace folds far 
below, stretching down to the base of the mountain. Stairs, 
aqueducts, chambers and gardens were all within her sight.
	A maze of courtyards and pavilions awaited.
	A shadow flickered, the eyes of a cherub seeming to light up 
as the magik drew closer. She held her breath, staring up ahead at 
the fountain pool just a few paces away. Beyond the collecting pool, 
the channel became a shallow waterfall that dropped outside to one 
of the lower levels.
	Tresses of long blonde hair danced around her face as she 
turned back to see the shadows move. They were approaching. With a 
playful shriek she leaped from her place, racing towards the pool.
	Waves of water were sent up around her feet, drenching the 
lower trim of her pleated blue skirt. And suddenly a new shadow 
pounced, gathering her up and pressing her against warm skin. She 
playfully struggled, sending up sprays of water, though did not 
manage to free herself. Nor did she want to free herself, staring 
into twin eyes of sapphire blue. 
	"Gotcha," he stated, letting her down. her feet were just on 
the edge of descending into the deeper pool. Sapphire blue eyes 
glanced down at the attire she had chosen for tonight. "Your school 
uniform? Minako-chan no ecchi."
	"What about you?" she countered, running a finger down his 
naked chest. He shivered at her touch, without a shirt or shoes, 
dark silken pantaloons and equally dark armguards his choice of 
garments.
	He glanced up at the sky under an open part of the ceiling, 
the moon shining down. Something caught sight in her vision, a small 
green object drifting leisurely down as if it were a feather. Her 
hand outstretched, she let the romantic ornament fall into her palm.
	"Ki-chan," she said quietly. "This is mistletoe."
	"And I trust you know you what to do with it," he responded, 
leaning forward and kissing her. She wrapped her arms around his 
neck, bringing him closer to give her a part in the kiss.
	Suddenly a new soul moved within the courtyard, and a blur the 
hue of beach sands pounced from atop the head of a cherub, landing 
against his back.
	A startled yelp echoed across the empty palace, followed by a 
wave of water surging up from once calm fountains. Into a deeper 
pool the two tumbled down, raising their bodies from beneath the 
surface in surprise.
	"What is it?" she exclaimed, working to tread water and calm 
the surge of adrenaline coursing through her body. She turned her 
head and stared out a small winged creature with big curious eyes 
staring back at her.
	The critter blinked, and gave a playful hoot.
	"Suna-chan," she asked, kicking to keep her chin above the 
surface. "What are you doing here?"
	The dragon hooted again, its front end bouncing up and down. 
The little guy wanted to play, to wrestle and to perhaps be cuddled. 
It cocked its head, staring at her sideways now.
	"Gomen ne," she said to the little dragon. "But we'd like to 
be alone, Suna-chan." She snuggled up next to him, in the process 
pushing his head underwater. "Oops! Sorry, Ki-chan."
	His chuckling reached her ears as he sent up a wave to fend 
back the creature. "Go on, Suna," he said, shooing the little dragon 
away. "We'll play some other time."
	She guided his vision back to her, palms against his cheeks 
and drawing his lips against hers. She paused, her lips parting from 
his to give enough time to moan softly as his hands traced their way 
up beneath her blouse.
	Rolling its eyes, the lesser dragon made a pouting sigh and 
darted across cobblestones, its claws leaving a series of clicking 
sounds behind it. All too quickly they faded and all that could be 
heard was the flowing water and the evening winds.
	Treading water within the fountain they swam cheek against 
cheek, him leading her towards the centre of the pool where a large 
statue jutted out in the form of a rampaging wyvern who spewed forth 
clear waters high into the air. Her already wet hair was pressed 
against her forehead as the droplets from the spout rained down 
around them. 
	She found a foothold that raised her neck and shoulders out 
from the water. Fingers lacing behind his moss-green hair, he was 
brought closer by her guidance. This was still her game to be 
played.
	Her uniform was drenched, the blouse clinging to her contours. 
His own hands had pulled the folds of her soaked blouse away, 
peeling the fabric from her breasts. But then he paused, staring 
into her eyes, into her soul--and she into his, for now he was one 
with a precious soul.
	"Such elegant beauty I see," he said softly.
	"Eloquent lovers make for better kissers," she replied.
	He smiled, stifling his laughter. "That's `love always makes 
those eloquent that have it', Minako-chan. Though I must agree that 
you are a very good kisser."
	Their skin was alive and tingling, on edge as they became one 
in mind and soul, their passions merging faster than their lips 
could work on each other. He was caressing every inch of her body, 
his warm touch electric in the cool water.
	Her eyes were barely open as she started to gasp, the 
incredible surge of pleasure starting to overtake her. He kissed her 
neck, pressing himself against her as if to let them become one in 
body as well.
	Overhead, an envoy of dragons poured out from the kingdoms 
beyond, breathing out fire in an explosive display of colors that 
sparked and soared across the midnight skies. It was a fireworks 
display, the distant roars and the brilliant lights working against 
her stamina to hold out.
	Her gasps became joined for one long outcry. She was lifted 
out of the fountain in that moment, more alive than ever before. As 
it ebbed, she sighed and draped her tired form over his shoulders. 
Understanding without words he supported her in his embrace. 
	"I would sell my soul for you, Minako-chan," he whispered into 
her ear.
	She smiled, kissing his lips once more. "I think you already 
have, Ki-chan. And I will never let go of you from this dream...."


	It was a literal downpour of cherry blossoms as they walked 
between rows of trees in an orchard that was sprawled out as far 
ahead as it was far back.
	Karasu moved his injured arm around in its sling, agitated.
	"Hurts?" she inquired.
	"Just a little," he answered. "Itches like hell, but it's all 
under the skin. Scratching won't do a thing to help."
	"I just can't believe you got injured," she chuckled. "You 
must be getting slow, Karasu."
	He sighed. "Well, at least some of us were able to recover. 
When the Shadowqueen sealed off Mistress Nine's power I was able to 
use my healing illusions on the others. At least now they can enjoy 
a relatively painless Christmas."
	"So why keep the shoulder that way?" she asked, curious.
	He smirked, ducking around a tree. "It's been pretty much a 
millennium since I've succumbed to an actual injury. This is a new 
sensation for me, and I wouldn't mind trying it out for a while.
	She gave him a darkly amused expression.
	"Don't get me wrong," he added in defense. "I'm not 
masochistic or anything like that. But when you're more ghost than 
man, you take things such as sensual touch--even painful ones--less 
and less for granted."
	He removed the shades from over his eyes, a mere slight of 
hand finding the shades suddenly vanished. Opening up his palm, 
another three crystal orbs appeared and he began to twirl them.
	It was incredible to watch him adeptly handle the crystals, as 
if they were but a mere extension of his body as they twisted and 
traced their way along his arms and hands. One was sent into the 
skies, floating away until it was but a sparkle in the far distance.
	"You're always doing that whenever I see you, Karasu," she 
remarked, watching the sparkling crystal become just another light 
in the sky.
	"Maybe I do remember after all," he said. "Maybe I remember 
everything."
	With his good arm he plucked out a crystal and lifted up to 
her, gripping it with the tips of his fingers. The orb was placed 
right in front of her face, and she could see the reflection of a 
young woman with tanned skin staring back.
	Yet no matter how young she looked, all she had to do was gaze 
into her own magenta eyes and see the wisdom and memories collected 
over many thousands of years. She leaned closer and blew on the 
crystal. Upon receiving her small breath of air, the orb lifted out 
from his palm, drifting away like a bubble. 
	The last crystal suddenly appeared in his good hand with a 
flick of the wrist, and that one leisurely chased after hers. As if 
staring up in reflection, he watched the last two illusions glide 
through the petals of the orchard until they were lost in the 
darkness.
	She noted how for once he did not put the shades back over his 
crystal blue eyes. "In all our centuries of conversation," she said. 
"You have always been sending off those crystal orbs but never told 
me what their true meaning is."
	"A wish," he answered. "Nothing more."
	"Cryptic," she remarked, leaning against one of the cherry 
blossom trees. A new fury of petals blew past her, a swirling cloud 
of pale rouge and glowing white.
	Karasu continued to stare up at the sky, the cherry blossoms 
starting to cover his blonde hair. "It's a chance for lost souls to 
be like me," he finally answered. 
	She looked at him with eyes of understanding; she had been one 
of the first to find him within this realm, despite him having 
become the Wanderer. No one had been left untouched by his 
disappearance, the ripples flowing deeper than the odango-haired 
blonde and the royal court ever suspected.
	"You haven't told them the truth, have you?" she said.
	He put on a smile, shaking off his brooding facade and then 
shaking out his hair. "It's better this way, Setsuna," he replied. 
"Can you imagine how Rei-chan would have felt if I told her the 
reality that might have been? She might have never held onto the 
strength she needed to make it back to Earth."
	She shifted her stance, leaning against her key-shaped staff. 
"I didn't mean that, Karasu. I meant about you. Why haven't you told 
them yet?"
	"The rune of the lost souls hides it well enough," he 
answered, bristling. She could see he was agitated about discussing 
it further. "Besides, it's best for any of them not knowing."
	He lifted his vision up to the starry heavens. "Too many 
answers in life only give way to more questions. Now is not the 
time; let them enjoy the Dreamworld without the burden."


	Long folds of silken fabric fluttered all around her as she 
seemed to float in liquid darkness coming to life with the radiance 
of a pale white moon. Yet these robes were not of her garments; she 
was stretching out her arms as the long folds rippled and encircled 
her body. For when she had entered this place, she had worn nothing.
	Sparkles of evening stars glittered on the dark silk as they 
wrapped around, possessed like the very winds she felt blowing 
against her skin. It was delicate to the touch, sensual and 
exciting. As if this touch was all belonging to him.
	Her eyes opened, her soul opening up to this realm.
	There stood a crimson torii, the gateway filled with an eerie 
yet alluring glow as the night mists pulsated out from the forests. 
High above the mountain peaks loomed with their own shadows, and 
above them was the crescent moon.
	The winds of silk finished their course around her body, 
adorning her with a diaphanous gown of midnight skies. Once more she 
found herself standing with bare feet on a cobblestone path that 
stretched out towards the distant torii.
	A whisper in the winds called her forward, calling her name. 
She followed, smiling at the voice within these winds she knew so 
well. Such a gentle voice, mirroring the soul who whispered them. 
The cobblestone path led her down towards the crimson gateway.
	Then beneath the frame of the torii appeared a silhouette, a 
lone figure cloaked in shadows hidden from the night's own beauty. 
The figure turned, the rays of crescent moonlight exiling the 
shadows and revealing him standing there.
	Bangs of raven black hair hung down his beautiful face, the 
slender tapering braid fluttering past his shoulders. He wore the 
same garments she had first seen him in, on that first night in the 
realm of the waking dreamers.
	They met beneath the torii, taking hand into hand and placing 
lips against lips in a tender kiss. His hands slipped around her 
waist, drawing her closer to him. Her own fingers laced in behind 
his neck.
	"Merry Christmas, Mako-chan," he whispered fondly, stroking 
her long brown hair. "Here you first found a way to me, where our 
destinies intertwined. This is the place where I fell in love with 
you." 
	"I remember it all, Sora," she answered. "I remember the night 
you crossed over through my mirror to be with me." She grinned 
playfully. "I remember how long it took me to clean up all those 
feathers littering my apartment afterwards."
	He laughed, enjoying her company. And she laughed in his. 
Together they shared souls and dreams in a realm where magik was the 
essence and the night was in eternal beauty.
	"Such beautiful green eyes," he said, gentle crimson eyes 
staring into hers. "Like walking into an emerald forest. One day I 
might journey into there and become lost inside forever. Such a fate 
I could only hope for, Makoto."
	"What makes you think I ever let you go in the first place?" 
she said. "From the first night I met you, Sora, you were like an 
angel possessed."
	"I was," he answered. "I still am. And I want to forever be 
caught like that."
	Two enormous wings of the night spread out from his back, 
unfolding as they sent up a fury of angel's feathers touched the 
color or raven. She stepped back, closing her eyes to feel the 
delicate caress of the down upon her skin.
	Her body was alive and tingling; she could hardly wait for the 
night to end and the day to begin, their passion to begin anew. her 
eyes opened, presented with an offering set out before her.
	He seemed hesitant, anxious and unsure. She smiled; despite 
his fragile heart, when push came to shove he stood his ground with 
the same determination she held in facing each new day.
	"I...I have a gift for you," her raven angel said.
	Stretching out his hand, he opened his palm to reveal an array 
of small sparkling faery lights that lifted up to the stars before 
becoming lost in the heavens. They left behind in their trails of 
twinkling glitter a small ring in his palm. The sparkling of a 
diamond met her eyes, a gemstone surrounded by the exquisite golden 
wings of twin butterflies, their forms forged to match every last 
detail of the creature's beautiful body.
	She held her breath, everything inside tensing up with 
hesitant but delicious excitement. Slowly she ran a finger down one 
of the golden butterflies, staring up at her angel possessed.
	"An...engagement ring?" she asked.
	Her heart was pounding like never before; for so long she had 
been alone, responsible to herself and only to herself. Then she had 
met the odango-haired blonde and rediscovered an ancient life long 
forgotten. And now he was here with her, in his hands a symbol meant 
to exist between them until the sun and moon and stars faded away.
	She lifted the ring from his palm, staring at it, a torrent of 
emotions inside of her. It all seemed so sudden yet she knew it felt 
so right. But she was still in high school--and aside from his 
strange form of immortality, so was Sora.
	"When?" she asked, tearing her gaze from the ring. "How soon?"
	He smiled, brushing away a stray piece of her deep brown hair 
from her face. "Not now, Mako-chan," he said. "It is not yet the 
proper time. But when the time comes for Crystal Tokyo to emerge, I 
ask for you to be my beloved for eternity." 
	There her raven angel took the ring in his grasp and slid it 
onto her finger. The fit was perfect, the glow of the diamond 
sending up a series of starlights that seemed to capture the radiant 
magik that had forged it.
	"Makoto," he whispered. "Please, marry me."
	So much had been done and undone, said and never spoken. On 
Earth so many things had happened and destiny seemed to be so 
distant in her understanding. But this alone she felt certain of: 
her love for him.
	"Sorata," she whispered, looking up into anxious crimson eyes. 
She nodded, her own eyes speaking to his soul. No more words were 
said, nor did they need to be spoken. And as they leaned forward to 
kiss, on a cloudless night in a cloudless sky, it began to rain. 
Though not of water but of petals, delicate and beautiful and pale.
	"We shall be together until eternity ends," he whispered. "A 
forever night to dance inside our dreams."
	His wings stretched out, encompassing them both. In that 
moment their garments exploded into a furry of delicate petals, 
blowing around them in a breathtaking whirlwind. Naked together in 
each other's arms, they felt their beating hearts. Folds of raven's 
down wrapped around her, warm and smooth to the touch. She held him 
tightly, leaning her head on his shoulder as the music of a midnight 
sky seemed to come alive. 
	"Mako-chan, I love you...."


	"Where are we now?" she inquired.
	The Wanderer glanced around the vast stretches of dunes all 
around them, from one horizon to the next. Though they were walking 
in a desert the night was surprisingly cold. He felt nothing though 
with his illusions at work, and thus neither did she.
	"Another place I've visited over the centuries," he answered 
absently, his mind drifting to other thoughts as he readjusted the 
shades on his face. How many centuries had it been since he had last 
wandered through this desert kingdom? Two hundred? Two-fifty?
	If fate had allowed it, he would have brought the dark-haired 
shrine girl to this place; even though they would have only crossed 
over the corner, he knew the young lady would appreciate the beauty 
even in such a place as this.
	But that destiny was not meant to be.
	She regarded him, shaking her head. Now the scales had tipped 
and he was the melancholy one between them. But there was a 
difference: while they both had dreams, only she had a chance to 
realize and achieve them. So what did that leave a dreaming ghost?
	"I've never seen you so pensive before in all our encounters," 
she told him. "What are you thinking about?"
	He shifted his stance in the sands. "Everything I guess. This 
is the first time I've been able to see them all since I became a 
lost soul. And as much as I'm thrilled to be a part of their lives, 
I know I can't be as close as we once were."
	She stared solemnly at him, her long dark hair flowing out 
behind her in the gentle winds. She knew of the mirror he was gazing 
into, and the emotions they stirred that he tried to hide.
	"That was another life," she countered. "Even now things 
between the Princess and her court have changed. You can never go 
back, Karasu. And you cannot live for the future if you continue to 
dwell in the past."
	For a time he stared at her, and then he laughed, nodding his 
approval. "I guess you're right about that," he said. "You would 
make a good mother or a teacher, Setsuna." 
	"I'd rather design clothes," she admitted.
	The Wanderer chuckled again. "You and Michiru would be perfect 
for taking over the fashion world. With her sense of style and your 
templates, no one on Earth would be safe."
	"Not even you, Karasu," she said, jabbing the end of her staff 
into the sands.
	"I think I'd fear Michiru for changing my attire more than 
you," he said, turning to her. "Ne, Setsuna, you're the most 
enigmatic of every last one of us. Even moreso than I am."
	"I've been around longer than you have," she answered, amused. 
"I think that in itself gives me the right to be enigmatic. But if 
you want me to humor you, I'll allow for some questions."
	They had gone through such a drill on many occasions, for she 
held the advantage compared to him, having existed as a time 
guardress long before he had ever become an immortal in a twisted 
sense of the word.
	She studied the shadows of the sands; though cloaked in a veil 
of night the desert seemed to still shimmer in the distance as if it 
were beneath the rays of a noonday sun. It was incredible how exotic 
each of these kingdoms were, both apart from each other and together 
to form the Dreamworld.
	Abruptly he paused atop a dune, turning around with a strange 
look on his face. The winds blew his silver cloak around his form, 
though he remained oblivious to this.
	"Did you feel that?" he asked. "Like a tremor."
	She turned herself, taking up her staff. There was nothing her 
body could sense and nothing her magik could detect. As far as she 
could tell, they were the only two here amidst the desert sands.
	And then the ripple came.
	She stepped back, feeling the vibrations beneath her feet, 
beneath the sands. "Something's moving," she stated. "It's coming 
from under the desert."
	Suddenly a series of dunes erupted, spewing geysers of sand 
high into the dark skies. With a loud shout of invocation, the 
Wanderer threw his arms in front of him as the torrents of sand 
slammed back onto the desert floor, the ends of a silver cloak 
growing in the winds to protect her as well. But even as the rain of 
sands died out, the desert was still possessed.
	Even more dunes were being wiped clean away as an enormous 
mound emerged from deep below, waterfalls of pure sand crashing down 
at all sides. All too quickly the falls dried up to reveal rough 
skin resembling armored plates, covered in dust and pulsating with 
breath and life. A tail exploded to their left, thrashing about. She 
somersaulted backwards as the end fiercely pounded the dunes into 
slender valleys.
	"What is that?" she exclaimed, gripping her staff, choosing to 
remain in a defensive stance.
	The Wanderer slowly lifted his head as the worm continued to 
rise out from the ground, its fierce shadow drowning much of the 
surrounding desert in darkness. 
	"That," he remarked. "is one very ugly son of a--"
	"I noticed that, Karasu. What is it?"
	The worm tilted its head down at them, an eyeless face peering 
at the two guardians as if it were pondering their existence. Its 
huge form seemed to ripple, taut creases in its muddy brown skin 
send up clouds of dusty sands.
	The tension in the air was high; the lull would soon end.
	"Can it sense our vibrations through the earth?" she asked, 
keeping perfectly still.
	Karasu shook his head. "We could only be so lucky. This thing 
can sense our auras of magik from across the entire desert. I bet 
that's what brought it here. You can move, Setsuna, but don't summon 
anything to provoke an attack."
	"I highly doubt this will simply leave us alone," she 
countered, gripping her staff a little tighter.
	Karasu gave a wry grin, and she could tell that dark glimmer 
was back in his eyes despite being hidden behind his shades. "No, it 
won't leave us alone. But it's better not to get the worm riled up 
before a fight."
	Suddenly the worm reared up, opening its mouth and unleashing 
an ear-piercing shriek that send up a wave of dust and sand past the 
two. Triple mandibles opened up to reveal a central mouth adorned 
with rotating, circular rows of fangs and teeth. 
	She barely had enough time to shield her eyes from the sands 
before leaping aside as the worm smashed its beak-shaped face into 
the desert, sending shockwaves that threw dunes all amok. Flipping 
her body around, she landed a safer distance from the creature.
	The garnet orb atop her key-shaped staff was glowing as she 
began to summon her own magik to retaliate. But the magik faltered 
as she saw something else presented before her.
	"Na ni...?" she said, unable to believe her eyes.
	There he was: atop the rough hide of the worm, his Arashi 
sword unsheathed and poised to deliver a lightening strike. It was 
impressive to see him keep his place as the worm screeched and 
thrashed about to toss him off. 
	His crystal blue eyes met hers in a split second as his shades 
were knocked from his face by the showers of sand. "No questions, 
Setsuna!" he exclaimed. "Use your attack!"
	Raising the blade over his head, the Wanderer was lost in a 
electrical storm of his blood magik. "Lightening strike!" he 
shouted, raking down the Arashi upon the worm's neck.
	The beast let out a warbled bellow as its leathery hide bulged 
and then exploded, tearing its head from the rest of its body, the 
remainder of the attack working its way down the worm's form.
	She watched worm, the garnet orb in her staff glowing as grey 
mists surrounded her form. "Dead Scream," she whispered, the mists 
sucked into the orb and then unleashed in a blinding explosion of 
light. 
	Their warring magiks collided with each other at the middle of 
the worm, shredding what little was left of the monster's body. With 
the convergence of magik, the entire desert was lit up in a 
spectacular ball of searing violet light that radiated out from the 
epicentre of the strike.
	The raging power blew past her, sending her long dark hair 
dancing wildly behind her. She stood tall and firm despite the force 
of the radiating attack, only relaxing as the light died down at the 
desert was still once more.
	The Wanderer coughed amidst the dust as he walked towards her, 
brushing some strands of shining blonde hair away from his face. 
Tattered strips of its rough hide floated down around them; he blew 
a piece of worm away from his suit as it drifted towards the sands, 
eyes focusing on her. 
	"Not bad, Setsuna," he remarked with a grin. "Not bad at all."	
	"You're pretty good yourself, Karasu," she answered. She cast 
a glance at whatever was left of the worm; the Wanderer's lightening 
strike had severed its head and helped her Dead Scream vaporize the 
rest of its body.
	He moved around the head, careful to avoid the oozing muddy 
pool of what might have been blood soaking into the sands. A long, 
grey tongue was sticking out from the half-open mandibles, the 
entire head looking more sick than dead.
	"What was that?" she asked.
	He shrugged, kneeling down to study the severed head of the 
worm. "Jabberwocky. These worm creatures have appearing all over in 
the past while. They're new breeds of nightmares."
	"Not again," she sighed in annoyance. This cycle happened 
every few hundred years: everyone's dreams changed, and thus so 
would the forms of their nightmares. 
	"I've noticed myself that there are fewer hobgoblins these 
nights," he said, flicking a finger at one of the Jabberwocky's 
teeth.
	"No doubt these Jabberwockies are replacing them," she agreed, 
grimacing. "The war never ends, does it?"
	"You're the guardian of time and space," he said, rising from 
the sands. "You know how the battle between good and evil will never 
truly end. It's what makes up the fabric of our universe. That is 
the eternal war we're destined to fight."
	The Arashi was engulfed in a blue light, sheathed back in his 
palm. He kept his good hand open though, summoning a small orb of 
illusion. He clenched the crystal, shattering it with his own hand. 
As the ringing echoed with the winds and the shards fell to the 
desert floor, the worm's head burst into electric blue flames. It 
was reduced to ash in a heartbeat. For a time he seemed fixated on 
the smoldering black hole left on the sand dune, grimly staring at 
it.
	With a warm touch she rested her hand on his shoulder. "One 
more dreamer is safe tonight," she said to him. "Leave it at that, 
Karasu. Let's find someplace a little more quiet."


	Steam rose up from the heated waterfall that emptied down into 
the hotsprings, the waters of the pool covered in a thick steam that 
flowed over the edges and merged with the mists filtering out from 
the forest just a few paces away. Yet the heat of their bodies was 
causing them to sweat.
	He chuckled, his face right in hers, hot breaths meeting their 
lips. Hands clasped together, muscles flexed and gazes locked they 
fought for control, for dominance. Wrestling was the ultimate 
version of foreplay, burning fiercely within the magik coursing with 
their blood.
	"Give up yet, Hotaru-sama?" he chuckled, his golden cat-eyes 
flashing as they caught a beam of moonlight. 
	She smiled darkly, her own eyes shimmering with Mystwolf 
essence. "Oh, have we begun already?"
	They shared a laughter that might have been growls or purrs or 
else both at once, and then leaned forward to quickly kiss again 
before trying to push back the other. Her garments in shades of 
night were taut against her pale body, skin glistening with droplets 
sweat. The overcoat was at the edge of the steaming pool, beside 
that a small beret and crimson scarf. 
	He was still in a suit worn from a journey into her world, one 
they would return to when the dreams ended for one more night. But 
now the jacket and tie had been lost in the beginnings of a 
struggle, and his scarlet, collared shirt was left open for her 
moving hands.
	Passion rose again as they kissed, mouths alive and hands 
running up and down each other's back and through silken hair. Her 
weight shifted, one knee sinking into the ground between his legs 
and sending her body into his. He fell back, his already damp hair 
clinging to his face and neck. Hands grappled around his wrists, 
locking his arms against the dew-covered grasses. He struggled but 
was pinned. The fight was hers to claim.
	She laughed, her shoulder-length hair dangling around her face 
and brushing with his naked skin. "Okami-chan," she said, nipping at 
his chest. "It would appear I've won again."
	"Only because I let you, my Queen," he responded. 
	Even still he remained at the mercy of his Darkqueen, pledging 
body and soul and wolfen devotion to her. At another time, one not 
so long ago, this pledge was made in his own blood.
	She lowered her face until it was an agonizing kiss away from 
his. His warm breath that smelled of so many things pure and 
unbridled, of the cool Myst itself that they ran through.
	"What would you want of me, my Darkqueen?" he purred, his 
tongue parting his lips and trying to catch a taste of her skin as 
her cheek erratically nuzzled his.
	Abruptly she felt lighter in weight. But it was more than a 
sensation: it was a reality as she turned her head to look at her 
body now floating into the air. Coerced by the mists flowing out 
from the forest and the pool of steaming waters, she levitated 
before him.
	He chuckled, running his tongue along his twin fangs. Under 
his guidance she moved like a faery in the winds, elegant despite 
her confusion.  
	She twisted around, trying to understand why gravity was 
suddenly so arbitrary. In an envoy of grey billowing mists she 
slowly rotated around until she was on her back, swimming in cloud 
and air as if flying like a bird.
	And with a snap of his fingers the ride came to a crashing 
halt with the sound of disrupted waters belonging to the hotspring. 
Throwing up a fury of droplets and steam around her body she emerged 
from beneath the surface of the pool, her dark wet hair dancing 
around her face.
	"That was a dirty trick," she said.
	He chuckled, fangs glistening in the light of the crescent 
moon. "I guess you will just have to punish me then."
	He stood, his eyes wide and glowing an eerie gold in the 
night. Arms pointing towards the earth, fingers open towards the 
mist-laiden ground, he summoned ancient magik belonging only to the 
firstborn of this realm. A cloud of mists lifted his feet off the 
ground, carrying his human form across the distance and lowering him 
into the water.
	As his feet touched the bottom a wave of water from behind 
splashed into him, his eyes closed in accepting the magik soaked in 
the very air they breathed. His eyes slowly opened, a coy smile cast 
in her direction as he ran his fingers through wet strands of wild, 
silver hair.
	She moved through water until she was up against his beating 
heart. "I don't punish," she purred, stripping him of a soaking wet 
crimson shirt. "I discipline."
	Their mouths met to fiercely drink from each other, lips 
running against lips and neck and breast. One flick of his finger 
unsheathed a dark claw that fancifully tore the buttons off her 
shirt with one precise swipe.
	"Careful," she chided playfully. "This is a favorite of 
mine."
	"Tomorrow I shall buy you a new one," he replied, kissing the 
base of her neck, hands encircling her waist. "For tonight it is but 
an accessory."
	Soon there was nothing between them, various garments flung or 
torn aside as they felt the warmth of their skins pressing close 
together. Once again she held control in holding the rhythm, letting 
her own ecstasy rise with his, Mystwolf stamina pushing them further 
towards an edge that never seemed to exist. 
	Their pants and growls became fevered, and while he was 
cautious not to harm her fragile body she marked his back with her 
own nails. The air was electric and hot as skin against skin ended 
with an explosion of ecstasy that caused her to tilt back her head 
and unleash an excited cry.
	The mists were changing as she rested in his arms, letting the 
warmth of the water keep her basking in a delighted afterglow. The 
Mysts were calling to them, and amidst that the darkpacks.
	Her violet eyes looked at the small array of crimson marking 
his shoulders and no doubt his back. If he was in discomfort he hid 
it well--then again he was Mystwolf. She might not have been so 
aggressive had he not given her the bite of the wolf, letting the 
fierce magik in his blood flow with hers as well. There were times 
such as this where she forgot how potent the Mystwolf magik really 
was.
	"Was I too rough on you, Okami-chan?" she asked. "How do you 
feel?"
	"Disciplined," he purred.
	She glanced over at the forest as a thicker, darker cloud 
filtered out. The ancient Mysts that encircled this realm and kept 
its borders emerged from between the trees of the forest, covering 
them both in a grey cloud of timeless magik. What pierced the mysts 
was wolf in form.
	They were Mystwolves: Darkqueen and her consort, her chosen 
one. Nuzzling noses they raced into the great beyond where kingdoms 
and dreamers resided.
	"Hotaru-sama," he whispered to her. "My beloved, my 
Darkqueen...."


	They stared out at the strange sight held before them: a river 
without a bed. There the course of flowing but peaceful waters 
curved and twisted, yet these waters were in midair. The entire form 
was graceful but with bumps and slopes that a normal river would 
never run with.
	Yet very few things in this realm could be considered "normal" 
by the average Earthworlder's definition. Perhaps that in itself was 
the magik of the Dreamworld: what souls could only dream of was what 
roamed free here.
	One part of the river banked very close to the hillside the 
two travelling companions stood on. She leaned over and dipped her 
hand in the sparkling blue waters; the sensation was cool and 
refreshing as she submerged her arm until the elbow and brought out 
a handful to drink.
	Her skin was dried in the cool evening air, and all the while 
she stared in fascination with the bedless river.
	"Curiouser and curiouser," she remarked.
	Though the river seemed two dimensional, she could probably 
dive deep into these waters and still not reach the bottom--or punch 
through the bottom end for that matter. At least she hoped so.
	"You should try to surf down these rivers," the Wanderer 
chuckled. "Just beyond those hills in the distance the waters become 
rapids--and the current is incredibly fast regardless." He sighed, 
once again twirling his crystal illusions. "Now that was a great 
memory."
	"One I'll let you treasure all by yourself," she said.
 	He blew one crystal into the air, where it drifted down with 
the current of the river waters. "Oh come on, Setsuna! Where's your 
sense of adventure?"
	"Back on Earth," she replied. "Usagi keeps me well enough on 
my toes with the trouble she attracts. I swear she's a magnet for 
dark forces."
	He laughed. "When your soul burns brighter than any light, 
shadows of equal darkness will appear. It's a dichotomy we've all 
grown up with...that, or else grown used to."
	She nodded, knowing all too well the truth in his words. 	She looked back up at the river and the starry backdrop behind 
it. "I think we have a visitor," she said, indicating with her staff 
a small silhouette that was descending the closer it approached 
them.
	It was a dragon, a lesser one judging by its small house-cat 
size. Two wings, each just longer than its body, flapped silently in 
the midnight winds. The Wanderer held out his hand, letting the 
creature perch on his arm before drawing it closer for a chance to 
switch onto his shoulder. 
	"Komban wa," he remarked. "Did Kishi and Minako kick you out 
of their dream again, Suna-chan?"
	The sandy-colored dragon nodded, feigning hurt.
	Large green eyes blinked as they looked at her as she 
approached; the dragon didn't recognize her but its gaze was 
friendly none the less. She smiled, rubbing her finger under the 
dragon's jaws, which elicited what sounded like a contented purr 
from the creature. 
	"What an adorable little dragon," she remarked. "And a rather 
playful one too."
	"He's from Kishi's sanctuary kingdom," he explained. "In fact, 
Suna-chan here is Minako's Dreamworld pet."
	"Don't tell Artemis he might be replaced," she said with a 
smile. "The cat might not take to fondly to this."
	The Wanderer made a series of clicks and growls, an expert in 
dragonspeak since centuries past. The lesser dragon spread its tiny 
wings and soared over to perch on her shoulder. She laughed as it 
gave a playful lick to her cheek.
	"I don't think you have to worry," he said. "Suna-chan is more 
or less confined to the Dreamworld. If any one of the dragons could 
cross over on a whim, Kishi and Minako would never be allowed in 
school with the entire pride acting as their private envoy."
	"Perhaps then Minako could get to school on time for once in 
her life," she remarked, scratching again beneath the little 
dragon's chin. "I hear that even with Kishi escorting her, it's 
still a frantic race."
	With a sigh he nodded. "I doubt some things will never change, 
Setsuna."
	"Everything changes," she countered. "And yet everything stays 
the same."
	"Now who's being the cryptic one?" he teased.
	They both shared in some mutual laughter before allowing 
passive silence to be their companion. For a time they seemed 
content to watch the flowing waters of the curious river. The 
dragon, on the other hand, took flight and frolicked about in the 
waves.
	"Where do you go when you have the chance to dream?" the 
Wanderer inquired, for on those times of her retreat he had never 
met her. Then again, he might have never met the dark-haired shrine 
girl and the others if one hadn't tumbled into the Dreamworld as a 
lost soul. 
	She glanced up at the stars, and at the crescent moon still 
shifting its place in a midnight sky. They seemed so distant now. 
Perhaps it was because of the memories brought to life in this 
moment.
	The lesser dragon settled back onto her shoulder, having shook 
itself dry, content in perching with her rather than with him.
	"Traitor," he remarked to the dragon. 
	"I go to a place I can still see old friends I once loved and 
lost without even having a chance to meet," she answered. "A time 
before I learned of destiny beyond lives lived."
	The dragon cocked its head as it looked at her with 
inquisitive eyes. She reached over with one arm and reassuringly 
stroked its head; she had forgotten how empathic these creatures 
were.
	"You still wish for his embrace, don't you?" he asked 
solemnly.
	She nodded, turning away. There was a bittersweet smile that 
always accompanied the memories, for while she could not be in the 
arms of the dark-haired prince she was glad to have lost to such a 
soul as the odango-haired blonde.
	The Wanderer looked up to the stars and the moon, knowing that 
somewhere across this realm or perhaps beyond it, the dark-haired 
shrine girl was staring up at the same night sky. "I know what you 
mean, Setsuna," he agreed. "I know what you mean."


	Solace and quiet solitude was at the Shinto shrine this night, 
the sacred grounds closed for the night. Best wishes had been left 
at the shrine itself for the people of the sprawling city with its 
sprawling lights. And beyond the dark silhouettes of the surrounding 
trees were those same sprawling lights that forced the twinkling of 
the thousands of evening stars to fade away.
	She sighed, leaning her head against one of the posts on the 
veranda. Behind her, candlelight poured out through the open fusama 
of the building, casting his shadow upon her back.
	It was a beautiful night in Tokyo regardless of whatever 
lights were dominating the heavens. One that she would spend with 
her beloved here in the temple until they both entered the 
Dreamworld to dance in the floating palace's Moonlight Masquerade. 
They were to all meet there for Earth's midnight hour, where 
together they would celebrate the magik from both worlds that had 
brought them all together. 
	A solitary white speck drifted leisurely past her vision, lost 
in the walkway when it finally met with the ground. But then another 
began to follow after it. And another, and after that a legion.
	"Yuichiro," she said, smiling as she held out her hand to 
catch one of the falling snowflakes. "Look outside."
	He looked up from the candles and incense he was burning, a 
quick flick of the wrist snuffing out the flame at the end of the 
match. Running a hand through his somewhat scruffy brown hair he 
approached the open divider, staring out at the gentle snowfall that 
was beginning to cover the city.
	She smiled as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, embracing 
her. Clasping his hand in hers, fingers lacing together, they 
watched their city take on a winter's magik all its own. It was all 
so mystical in one sense, reminding her of the kingdoms revealed to 
her in the Dreamworld.	
	"Karasu," she whispered quietly, a strange and sudden longing 
to see the young man again overcoming her. Where was this eve 
finding the Wanderer? What paths had the raven by name and not wings 
chosen to walk amidst tonight? Would they ever see each other again?
	She touched her lips; somewhere in the back of her mind she 
could still remember the Wanderer's tender kiss when she had offered 
herself in the hopes of forgetting her fears. It was the same 
distant memories when she had and for a short time dated the dark-
haired prince. Now she was with the man she truly loved and had 
loved since he had first shown up one night on the temple's front 
steps. Yet there would always be a special place for the wandering 
soul lost between worlds like she had once been.
	He gently kissed the palm of her hand, returning her mind to 
the approaching midnight hour here at the Shinto shrine. She smiled 
at his caring touch; for as seemingly immature and brash as he was, 
he was indeed someone she had fallen in love with.
	"How are you feeling tonight?" he asked into her ear.
	She laughed, squirming away. "Depends on how frisky you are 
tonight, Yuichiro. Just try not to wake grandfather."
	With a playful spark in his eyes he retreated into the room, 
pulling her as she let him lead her on. As she closed the partition 
behind her, her hands slid between the folds of his kimono, feeling 
the warmth of his skin.
	Instantly he pulled her closer, his own hands running through 
her long dark hair. He lowered his head and their lips met in a 
passionate kiss. She undid the sash at his waist, the folds of his 
kimono coming open. Her own kimono was following the same destiny, 
open to reveal her breasts as his fingers danced around her nipples.
	She moaned softly, throwing her weight to the side, taking him 
down with her onto a futon. Both garments were thrown aside and 
discarded as they came together, bodies glistening with sweat in the 
flickering light of candles.
	It was strangely arousing to watch her own shadow cast upon 
the paper screens, revealing the curves of her body as she pressed 
him down against the mattress. Shadow hand rose up to fondle her 
breasts, and her shadow opened its mouth to sigh in delight. The 
aroma of the burning incense only added fuel to the fire.
	Not long after they reached passion height and collapsed in 
each other's arms. In silence and candlelight they stared into each 
other's eyes with quite compassion. 
	"We should be going soon," she finally said, sitting up. The 
hour was approaching fast, and she did not want to be late to be 
with her friends at such a midnight. 
	He snuggled up against her, his head resting in her lap. "Rei-
chan," he asked her. "Do you want to visit him before we go to the 
Masquerade?"
	Surprised she looked down at his gentle expression. "What do 
you mean, Yuichiro?"
	He smiled. "I heard you whisper his name outside, and I know 
how close you two are. It's alright if you want to visit him before 
we dance at the midnight hour."
	Her violet eyes trembled slightly, though for neither one nor 
the other but instead both the men she had loved. "Daijobu, 
Yuichiro," she answered. "It's okay this way. Besides, I wouldn't 
even know where to begin looking for him. Karasu's been a lost, 
wandering ghost for so long I don't think he knows any other 
life...or at least remembers any other life."
	He propped himself up on his elbows as she quietly rose from 
the futon, grasping her kimono as she walked towards the fusama. 
Sliding it open partially, she leaned against the frame and 
contentedly watched the snowfall for just a few more minutes.
	For a single beating of her heart she thought she saw a 
ghostly shadow dressed with a silver cloak moving through the 
falling snow. But then it was gone, a wraith of her dreams.
	"Komban wa, Karasu," she whispered, retreating inside and 
sliding the fusama closed. "Wherever you are tonight...."


	He glanced up at the stars, something having caught his 
attention. The ends of his dark robes fluttered in the breeze, as 
did the bangs of his blonde hair. Slowly he removed his shades, 
crystal blue eyes staring up at the heavens.
	"Karasu?" she asked.
	For a moment longer he was poised as if trying to listen to 
something whispered in the winds. Then he shook his head, replacing 
the shades over his eyes. "I'm not quite sure, Setsuna. For a second 
I thought someone had called my name." 
	She sighed, her magenta eyes glancing down at the emerald-
tipped roses; it was hard to let go sometimes--especially when you 
didn't want to. Kneeling down she plucked one of the roses, the 
petals changing color upon the touch of her fingers. Emerald green 
became ocean blue and then a full-bodied crimson that covered the 
entire rose.
	So much did that evoke distant memories of the dark-haired 
prince. They were the prince's calling card and an embodiment of the 
unique form of the young man's magik. She blew on the rose, its 
delicate petals breaking apart and dancing out with the winds.
	They were standing amidst rows of hedges and petals, an 
ethereal rose garden sprawled out before them as angelic cherubs of 
stone fiercely guarded over the flowers. The roses were of all 
different shades of empathic magik, their rows twisting and flowing, 
covering hills and lining cobblestone pathways, climbing trellises 
and encircling gazebos.
	"Strange," he remarked absently. "I would have thought Mamoru 
and Usagi would be here, on tonight of all nights." He winced as he 
saw her melancholy creep into her face. "Gomen ne. I didn't think, 
Setsuna. Forgive me, please; that was uncalled for."
	"Daijobu," she answered, shaking off the ancient sadness she 
still nursed in the recesses of her heart. "I know you meant well. 
We immortals have yet to find a love that lasts as long as we do."
	He nodded. "Hai."
	He closed his eyes, a faint image appearing in that moment. Of 
a gentle smile and tresses of long, dirty-blonde hair cascading down 
a young girl's face. Of those beautiful blue eyes. "Yui-chan," he 
said quietly. 
	"Karasu?" she asked.
	His eyes opened and he nodded.
	"You were thinking about her again?" she inquired.
	"Every now and again," he answered. "Rei-chan was different, 
and while I may disagree with it, I can live with what fate dealt 
us. But Yui...that final moment where fate tore us apart still 
haunts me."
	She didn't say anything to that; they had been together long 
enough to know when the other desired a silence. Not to think or to 
intimate, but just to experience the silence itself and forget 
everything. Only the hoots of the sandy dragon were heard between 
them.
	"Shimatta," he sighed, stretching out his arms behind his 
head. "Of all the days to be so damned somber, this shouldn't be 
it."
	Leaning over her plucked up a rose and with a silent illusion 
the rose hovered above his palm. The flower began to dance, golden 
sparkles resembling tiny fireworks flowing around the rose as its 
petals shifted through every last color of the rainbow.
	"For the lady," he said, grasping the end of the thorny stem 
and offering it to her. "May our next chance at romance be just as 
permanent as us."
	She laughed, accepting the gift. "Merry Christmas to you too, 
Karasu."
	"It's Christmas already?" he asked. "Damn, and I never once 
went out shopping for presents. I'm assuming the stores are all 
closed by now."
	She still couldn't help but smile at his humor. "It's the eve 
of Christmas, Karasu. Everyone's romancing their beloved or else 
searching for a hopeful to romance."
	The Wanderer sighed, leaning back against a stone cherub. 
"Hai, and somewhere out there is a really cool party with loads of 
Sake I'm missing out on."
	"We could do this another time if you wanted," she offered, 
teasing him.
	"It's just another Christmas passing me by," he answered, 
waving it aside. "Before I know it I'll have missed another one. 
Come on, Setsuna; want to check out the waterises? They're not far 
from here."
	"Waterises?" she inquired.
	He nodded. "Think waterfall, but in reverse."
	She rolled her eyes. Of course; hence the name. "Why not?" 
	But as he led the way down a cobblestone path beyond one of 
the gazebos, she abruptly stopped as the aura of an emerging magik 
caught her attention. The key reason being it echoed of her own 
magik. Her eyes focused onto the gazebo, where a cloud of smoke was 
breathing life into itself from clear, night air. The pulsating mass 
grew, though peacefully and not like an impending storm.
	The Wanderer's attention moved to the gazebo. "What are the 
mysts of time doing here?" he asked, looking to her. "You're not 
leaving yet, are you?"
	She shook her head. "I'm not leaving. Rather, someone is 
coming."
	They stood there before the portal that opened up in a 
swirling line of cloudy myst to reveal a young girl who appeared no 
older than fourteen, dressed in seemingly ordinary clothes that none 
the less held a regal elegance about them. Long locks of hair that 
shone a pale pink when caught in the moonlight dangled near the 
girl's waist as friendly rouge eyes stared at the two of them. A 
strikingly distinct feature was the strange rabbit ear-shaped balls 
of hair on either side of the young girl's head.
	"Arigato, Pu," the child said, bowing slightly.
	She nodded, smiling fondly at the blossoming young woman 
before her. This was the most frequent traveler between times and 
worlds within worlds, and one of her closest friends who also just 
happened to be a princess.
	"Did Diana chose not to come?" she inquired.
	The young girl nodded. "They're all back planning for his 
homecoming."
	She glanced to her side as the dragon upon her should gave a 
curious series of clicks. It cocked its head, bobbing up and down 
playfully as it studied the girl.
	"Suna-chan!" the child said, scratching beneath the creature's 
chin. The lesser dragon squealed with delight at all the lavished 
attention.
	The Wanderer on the other hand regarded the girl with 
incredible curiousity. "That hair," he mulled. "Why does it seem so 
familiar?"
	Actually, this young girl in every way seemed to resemble a 
good friend of his. Yet right now he was at a loss to match the 
faces together, though flickering images were plaguing his mind. The 
girl turned and smiled upon seeing him.
	"Karasu-sempai!" the child exclaimed, racing over and fondly 
embracing the Wanderer.
	She couldn't help but smile at his predicament as Karasu's 
face was one of stunned uncertainty. "Excuse me," he asked, lowering 
his shades as he stared down at the girl. "but who exactly are you?"
	The girl's mouth widened, bright rouge eyes registering 
surprise and then revelation. "Oh, that's right," the girl said, 
embarrassed. "We haven't met yet."
	He slid the shades back over his eyes, casting a side glance 
in her direction. "Let me guess: another one of Setsuna's time 
travelers."
	She nodded to his question, leaning against her key-shaped 
staff. This would prove a most interesting first encounter, 
considering that for the child this wasn't the first time in meeting 
the Wanderer.
	"Princess Tsukino Usagi," the girl stated, bowing slightly 
though quite elegantly to him. 
	He found his curiousity piqued even further with the girl's 
semblance and reaction upon seeing him. But the name was what really 
threw him off; this was name that belonged to the odango-haired 
blonde. 
	"Tsukino...Usagi?" he repeated.
	"Small Lady," she corrected.
	"I'm not so little any more," the girl chided her. "I'm over 
sixteen hundred years old now."
	"Wait a minute," the Wanderer cut in. "This is Usagi's 
daughter? The one who Rei-chan said came back from Crystal Tokyo?"
	She leaned against her key-shaped staff. "The very same one. 
Small Lady, despite being over nine hundred years old at the time, 
was actually by our standards just a child. As you can see, the 
little princess has grown up."
	The Tsukino child seemed to appraise him for a moment. "You're 
a lot taller in person than in your crystals," the Tsukino child 
remarked.
	He sighed as she stifled a laugh; it gave him some peace of 
mind to know that the odango-haired blonde and the royal court were 
still his friends even that far into the future. On the other hand, 
it left him wondering if he actually did ever find a way to escape 
from being a lost soul.
	"How exactly do you know me in the future?" he asked.
	"Oh no you don't, Karasu," she chided him. "It's not good to 
peek at your future, especially if it might create a time paradox."
	He sighed, revealing another crystal orb and having it dance 
around the contours of his good hand. "You never let me have any 
fun, Setsuna."  He turned to the Tsukino child. "Well, Princess 
Usagi, what brings you into the Dreamworld?"
	"You can call me Chibiusa," she said. "You always have."
	"How quickly I forget the things I've never done," he wryly 
remarked.
	The Tsukino child giggled. "I'm here to meet someone."
	"And who might that be?" he inquired.
	And then came a reply though not from any of the three 
standing at the gazebo: "Komban wa."
	For a moment within the Wanderer's shades, the reflection of a 
Pegasus raced across his sight. And then there stood a young man 
whose aura of magik possessed everything within the gardens of 
roses. Every last flower stretched across the rows and hedges 
suddenly launched into full bloom, petals opening up in a stunning 
display. This magik could only be a part of a power within the 
Dreamworld great enough to rival the blak magik of the Shadowqueen.
	There stood the DreamMaster.
	Misty eyes looked out at them amidst shining white hair 
flowing above the young man's shoulders. The DreamMaster wore a 
white vest over an equally white shirt with long, billowy sleeves, 
the chest adorned with dark blue ribbons. The edges of the vest were 
given shades of emerald green, the collar open at the neckline. At 
the base of the DreamMaster's collar dangled a strange talisman that 
sparkled gold in the pale moonlight.
	"Milord," the Wanderer said, nodding with reverent respect for 
the DreamMaster. "I'm rather surprised to find you here."
	"Karasu," the DreamMaster replied. "It is good to see your 
ghostly form once again."
	The young man turned to the Tsukino child, a warm smile of 
shared dreams and memories. "Chibiusa-chan," the DreamMaster said 
with affection. "My Maiden...."
	The Tsukino child's face seemed to brighten upon seeing the 
Master of the Dreamworld. "Helios!"


	It was a dark night yet also a clear one as a thousand stars 
shone brightly overhead in royal escort to a pale crescent moon that 
now seemed enormous before them. In the company of Silvermanes they 
had ridden for what seemed like hours, yet passing as only fleeting 
dreams can be recalled upon waking up.
	They were in what might have been a tropical forest, though 
not as thick in lush foliage as the raven knight's sanctuary. Here 
the trees and vines were spaced out with the low bushes, 
disappearing the closer they approached the flowing river which 
trailed down from the crashing surge of the high, tiered cliffs of 
silver rock and waterfalls just around the corner.
	Out in the middle of the river was perched a large stone with 
enough space above the rushing waters for two people to sit and 
watch the circling moon with the waterfalls just in the corner of 
their eyes. All around them an enormous gathering of herons 
gracefully stepped through the water in search of evening food, 
their feathers shining white and light blue.
	The Silvermanes, glistening bodies and manes of sparkling 
silver, kept their own company at the edge of the river, refreshing 
themselves with food and drink and rest. She smiled as she watched 
the steeds; it was surprising that something so elegant could yet be 
so deadly. But this applied as well for the Mystwolves in their 
vicious dedication and gentleness. Perhaps among these firstborns of 
the Dreamworld, the dichotomy was always the most evident.
	She felt the arm of the tall, sandy-blonde wrap around her 
shoulder, and she smiled contently, leaning into the young woman's 
embrace.	
	"Is this not the romantic Christmas evening I promised you?" 
the tall, sandy-blonde asked, gesturing to the kingdom around them.
	She smiled at her companion, her friend, and so much more. "It 
is, Haruka. Arigato."
	Haruka sighed, leaning back against the rock. "I'd rather be 
behind the wheel of my car,  but for you I'm willing to make an 
exception."
	"How fortunate for me," she remarked, chuckling as Haruka's 
eyebrow twitched at the retort.
	She ran her fingers through her wavy hair that shimmered aqua-
green in the pale moonlight, letting her hand drift down to the 
waters flowing around the base of the rock. The lapping was were 
just a breath away from her bare feet.
	"It is nice to have a moment alone, though," she admitted. "No 
interruptions, no walking in on the romantic moments of others. Just 
you and me, and the stars."
	Haruka tilted her chin up and gently kissed her forehead. 
"Hai, Michiru. Maybe now we can enjoy a peaceful life and equally 
peaceful dreams."
	She sighed, the serenity of such a realm captivating her with 
its own magik. Upon Silvermanes they had charged across this river; 
she was growing rather fond of the mystic steeds. Haruka, though, 
seemed to prefer horsepower to horses.
	"I've been thinking," Haruka said. "What if you and I just 
take a long vacation?"
	"We do that enough times as it is," she replied, scooping up a 
handful of water and letting it sift through her fingers. "Tokyo is 
but one of our favorite places to be."
	Haruka nodded, blue eyes turning up to the heavens of the 
Dreamworld, a midnight sky mirroring that of their own world. "I 
didn't mean going out on a cruise across the Mediterranean, or 
visiting the Mayan ruins. I meant leaving Earth, and the warmth of 
our own sun and moon."
	She turned to the sandy blonde with curious but vibrant eyes. 
Much like the Wanderer, the tall, sandy-blonde was a restless soul. 
	Haruka continued to look up at the stars. "The Starlights were 
soldiers from another system much like ours. Who knows how many 
other Senshi there are out in our universe?"
	"You just want an excuse to have some time alone with me," she 
chided. "Shame on you, Haruka, though I must admit I'm not against 
the idea."
	"Ara," Haruka conceded. "That too, Michiru. But with all the 
fighting we've been through, I just need some time off to relax. I 
need to go someplace far away. Even here in the Dreamworld the wars 
are growing fiercer night by night."
	"I agree," she answered, sitting up. With a simple gesture she 
summoned up her Aqua Mirror and gazed into it's reflection. Again 
there was a flash of something, and then nothing but her own face 
staring back at her.
	A woman's silhouette?
	She sighed, the mirror returning to its dimensional pocket. 
"But now does not seem to be the right time. Perhaps when Crystal 
Tokyo rises up and our sanctuary is established, we can search the 
heavens for other soldiers."
	The tales told of the battle against the entity called Death 
Phantom never included either of them--or the young harbinger for 
that matter. Perhaps this was the beginning of a reason why.
	Haruka grinned, strands of sandy blond hair dancing in the 
cool evening breeze. "For you, I can wait."
	"Good things always come to those who wait," she stated, 
winking playfully. She rose up atop the rock, her slender and 
elegant form casting a majestic shadow behind her.
	Taking a careful step, she allowed her body to plunge into the 
waters of the river. The dress she wore of aquamarine rippled upon 
meeting with the water, clinging to her form as she stepped deeper 
into the river. The waters were flowing just beneath her breasts, 
the current far from being a fierce torrent.
	While the herons took no notice, one of the silver unicorns 
raised its head to watch her. Her movements were graceful, every 
gesture calling attention to her unique magik.
	She held out her hands, the Silvermane coming forth at her 
silent calling with a spray of water as it crashed through the 
river. A few rows of herons took to the skies to avoid getting any 
wetter than needed, returning back to the river at a safer and drier 
distance.
	The steed's nose nuzzled against her neck and shoulder, its 
warm breath causing her hair to flutter around her face. Such a 
sweet fragrance, of mixed sweat and perfume; it reminded her of how 
Haruka smelled at times.
	"I thought I was the only one allowed to do that," Haruka's 
voice said, Haruka suddenly behind her, arms wrapping around her. 
The Silvermane bowed its head and retreated, leaving them alone. 
Within its eyes she saw that it knew better than to come between the 
two of them.
	She smiled, tilting back her head and feeling Haruka's cheek 
brush against her hair. "Are you jealous?"
	The tall blonde cracked a mischievous grin, rising to the 
challenge. "Should I have a reason to be?"
	She chuckled. "You have me there, Haruka. Though jealousy is 
not the best of traits, I'm flattered by how protective you are of 
me. I always have been."
	Slowly she turned around so that they were face to face, half 
submerged in the river. Haruka's suit was as soaked as her dress, 
though Haruka's attire being the one to reveal less of their 
feminine bodies. Her hand reached up to touch Haruka's face, fingers 
then moving from skin to sandy blonde hair.
	"I would die for you, Michiru," Haruka whispered softly, 
solemnly.
	"I know," she answered, aqua-green eyes that echoed of her 
flowing hair turning up to the eternal midnight overhead. "They're 
beautiful, aren't they? The stars?"
	Haruka nodded. "They truly are."
	"So many celestial families shining down on us," she said 
quietly. The memories came back, and with them the questions. For 
what felt like an eternity her motherly instincts were awakening 
deep within; for a time she had been able to feel like a mother when 
Hotaru had become a child in the lull before Galaxia's siege. 
	But now....
	She felt comforted by the warm embrace as Haruka pulled her 
close. She leaned her head against Haruka's shoulder, finding 
strength in the tall sandy-blonde's hold.
	Suddenly the entire gathering of herons took to the skies in a 
magnificent array, white and pale blue winged forms flashing past 
them in a dazzling array of feathers and water falling down upon 
them both.
	"One day, Michiru, I promise," Haruka said, holding her 
tightly. "One day we can be a family. But until that day comes, know 
that I will always love you no matter what."
	She looked into Haruka's blue eyes. "I know, Haruka. And that 
is why I love you too...."


	Here at the rose gardens in a kingdom not too far away from 
souls dancing amidst their beautiful dreams, the Tsukino child and 
the DreamMaster had found each other once more. Within the span of a 
beating heart the two were tenderly embracing, looking into the 
other's eyes with a sigh of contentment.
	The Wanderer wistfully sighed, digging his hands into his 
jacket pocket. "I just love romantic scenes," he remarked to her. 
"Especially when I get to be in them. Ne, Setsuna?"
	She chuckled. "Be patient with them, Karasu. Young love such 
as theirs deserves to blossom."
	From its perch atop one of the stone cherubs, the lesser 
dragon clicked its tongue. The Wanderer burst out laughing, wagging 
a finger at the dragon. "Cute, Suna-chan. Very cute. You're just 
lucky Setsuna can't understand your language."
	"What did he say?" she inquired.
	He shrugged. "Something to the extent of 'at least he gets 
someone to play with'. Unless you know Dragonspeak, you lose a lot 
in the translation."
	She suspected by the smirk he was desperately trying to 
suppress on his face that he was deliberately leaving something out 
of that translation too. 
	The young lovers managed to tear their gazes away from each 
other, and the DreamMaster looked at her. "Setsuna-san," Helios 
said, nodding with mutual respect. "It is good to see you again. I 
trust you are enjoying your time here in the Dreamworld."
	"There is always a sanctuary for me to visit," she answered. 
"Be it here or somewhere else within our world."
	"You two already know each other?" the Wanderer inquired, 
cutting in. 
	She smiled. "I've been around longer than you ever have 
Karasu. Helios and I have been friends for...what? Four or five 
millennia now?"
	The DreamMaster shrugged. "Let's just leave it at that we are 
very old friends."
	"You make it sound as if I'm an ancient woman," she remarked.
	"I'd say you don't look a day over two thousand years, if it 
helps," Karasu offered, removing his shades. He winced as she seemed 
to take slight insult to that. "I said 'if it helps'," he protested, 
letting out a nervous laugh. 
	Changing tactics, he coughed and turned to the Tsukino child, 
who was clasping hands with the DreamMaster. "And I notice you two 
are very good friends." The Wanderer glanced from one to the other, 
a smirk across his face. "And when did you two lovers meet?"
	"Nehelenia," she answered for the Tsukino child, who was 
staring distantly into the DreamMaster's eyes.
	His smile faded. "The dream stealers?"
	She nodded. "The Dead Moon was after Helios. He hid inside 
Small Lady's beautiful dream to escape, and to protect the Golden 
Crystal."
	His arms crossed over his chest for a moment as he thought out 
the situation, leaning against one of the gazebo's posts. "Hai hai; 
that explains a lot. When he disappeared, the Shadowqueen had a 
field day here."
	"I promised you I would return, Helios," the Tsukino child 
whispered in the DreamMaster' embrace. 
	"And so you have," Helios answered.
	The Tsukino child looked at the guardian with fond and gentle 
eyes. "More than that, Helios. I've come back to take you with me."
	"Um, I hate to interrupt your tender moment," he cut in yet 
again, this time more solemnly. "But you can't cross over and become 
a resident of Earth--unless some greater magik intervenes."
	"Like a counsel?" the Tsukino child asked. This seemed to 
catch the Tsukino child off guard, the girl's expression changing to 
one of apprehension. 
	"Kind of," Helios said. "There is a greater power than the 
raven angels and the Shadowdemons, and they are ones with the magik 
to grant a resident of our realm into becoming a resident of Earth."
	"I thought your own kind did that," the Tsukino child said, 
visibly surprised.
	The DreamMaster stared out at the expanse of roses for a 
moment. "I'm not like the others, Chibiusa-chan," Helios said 
quietly. "I never was and never will be a raven angel."
	The Wanderer chuckled, jumping into the air and seating 
himself on the edge of the gazebo's roof. "If that sort of stunt was 
allowed, the Shadowqueen would have rigged a vote to send herself 
into Earth--or else lesser demons to simply wreak havoc. No, the 
decision goes to another breed of creatures."
	"Who then?" she inquired, shifting her stance and the grip on 
her key-shaped staff. While this information was not entirely new to 
her, it did have a lot of unanswered questions left open.
	Helios smiled. "My best guess is the Mystwolves, the 
firstborns of our world."
	The Wanderer nodded in agreement. "Mine too."
	The DreamMaster sat down together with the Tsukino child upon 
the steps of the gazebo, the two lovers still holding that visible 
aura of tender affection in their eyes.
	She chose to sit down upon a large stone pushing out from the 
edge of one of the rose beds. All the flowers around her began to 
rustle and change from crimson to the magenta shade of her eyes; she 
wasn't sure if this was the garden's magik or his illusions at work.
	"Hotaru-chan met the Mystwolves inside the Dreamworld long 
before Usagi and the others found this place," she explained. "If 
Okami knew they were her friends, that would have swayed the vote 
for letting Sora and Kishi cross over."
	The others were exceptions, of course. The shrine protege had 
been a resident of Earth before becoming a guardian through Karasu's 
permanent illusion, and the masquerade wraith had been granted safe 
passage centuries ago.
	"But if Helios goes to reside in the future, will that alter 
events here in the past?" the Wanderer pointed out, knowing full 
well what the task of being the DreamMaster required.
	For the DreamMaster ruled kingdoms of beautiful dreamers, 
harnessing the power of the mystical Golden Crystal to fight against 
the nightmarish onslaught of the Shadowdemons and their dark Queen. 
	"It shouldn't alter time, should it?" the Tsukino child 
inquired, looking up at Helios.
	She patiently shook her head, reviewing the twists of the 
continuum inside her focused mind. "The timeline will be preserved 
so that Small Lady goes back into the past. Then the Inner Senshi 
journey into the future to fight for her against Nemesis." 
	At that time, the two Outer Senshi would be on an 
ambassadorial mission to another galaxy...along with a roguish, 
Elven tag-along. They would never even know about the attack until 
they arrived on Earth in time to see the final restoration after 
Death Phantom was destroyed.
	"So where does that leave Sora and the other guardians?" he 
pressed.
	She sighed; sometimes knowing more held its own drawbacks. And 
she didn't want to leak any information that might unravel time as 
she knew it to be. Such was the burden of the time guardress.
	"The former guardians," she said. "will be called into the 
Dreamworld to help fight--but the Queen, her King and her court 
remained in Crystal Tokyo."
	Okami and the Darkqueen would naturally be here in the 
Dreamworld, not really fighting like the others, but fighting to 
protect this realm none the less. Mystwolves moved in more 
mysterious ways in the angels; that made them all the more 
unpredictable even for her.
	The Wanderer slid his shades down his nose. "What would be the 
point in that? The battle against Nemesis was on Earth, wasn't it?"
	"Karasu," she said with a knowing smile. "Where did you think 
the entity called Death Phantom came from?"
	"A Dreamworld phantasm?" he remarked, intrigued. "Shimatta! 
Doesn't the Shadowqueen have some say in this war?" 
	Curiosity was etched into his face. But then again everyone 
was curious when it came to their own future. 
	"You and I know the Shadowqueen better than Setsuna," Helios 
cut in. "And what we do know is very little, Karasu. Who knows what 
or where she will be at that time."
	With a nod, he was inclined to agree. Both Wanderer and 
DreamMaster paused in their debate, turning to her. "So where do I 
fit into this picture?" he asked. 
	She chuckled; she had been wondering when he would finally 
inquire of his own future. "Iie. That would be disrupting the 
timeline. Gomen, ne, Karasu, but you'll just have to find out for 
yourself when you reach that time."
	The Tsukino child laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. 
"You are such a tease, Setsuna. I swear you enjoy taunting me like 
that with all your innuendoes about the future."
	"And yet you don't seem disturbed when I do tease you like 
that," she retorted with a wry grin.
	He bit his lower lip. "Touché."
	"Minna-san," Helios spoke up. "It means a great deal for you 
to be here. I have been waiting for this chance to be with my Maiden 
a long time."
	"Not to seem rude," the Wanderer said. "but Setsuna and I just 
happened upon this little gathering."
	The DreamMaster smiled. "Are you absolutely certain, Karasu? 
How can you be sure that the magik of this world was not and has not 
always been at work with you?"
	He glanced over at her. "He's got me there."
	"Come with me," Helios said, closing his eyes. 
	Suddenly the entire rose gardens were bathed in a shimmering 
light that swallowed up everything in their vision. The last thing 
he recalled seeing was the DreamMaster embracing the Tsukino child, 
a golden horn appearing in the center of the young man's head.
	As abrupt as the light had appeared, it faded the same way. 
The four looked around at the new surroundings, each one wearing a 
different expression of wonder.
	"Welcome," Helios said. "to a sanctuary where every last 
beautiful dreamer has sought refuge beneath the purifying magik of 
the Golden Crystal. Here is my kingdom, free from evil, at peace 
with the world. Welcome to my citadel: Illusion."


	It was not a bright white nor a dull grey stone, but more a 
sparkling crystal that echoed shades of the rainbow upon every curve 
and angle. And it was everywhere, a citadel that reached high above, 
with a domed ceiling that opened up to the starry heavens with a 
pale crescent moon that seemed to hover right there before them.
	Four tower points marked the outer boundaries of the Citadel, 
and within their borders lied a fifth that was the Citadel itself. 
To the front were breath-taking hills of rich grasses that perhaps 
became the forests some knew to be the Valley of the Myst. To the 
back was a jagged cliff of sheer vertical angles beaten at the base 
by a hypnotic, crashing surf which marked the unknown end to the 
Ocean of Silver Orchids.
	She sat with him at the edge of the steps, still beneath the 
portico of the second pillar, bright crystal blue eyes staring out 
at the forest in the distant horizon. She could just make out the 
fading sight of a herd of Silvermanes galloping into the trees.
	It was raining, though not cold and harsh. Instead there was a 
rainfall of gentle droplets of water, refreshing and surprisingly 
warm to feel upon her face, her skin. And there were no clouds in 
the sky, magik allowing for a caressing shower on a clear night.
	Such a romantic place, on such a magical night.
	"Mamo-chan," she sighed, leaning into his chest and nuzzling 
her cheek against the warmth of his skin from beneath his fine 
tuxedo suit.
	She was dressed in a lily white gown of faery design, gossamer 
wings opened up behind her. Her long tails of shining blonde hair 
danced slightly in the cool breeze that caused the waves of gentle 
rain to ripple.
	"Usa-ko," he whispered fondly into her ear, kissing her 
through her hair. She smelled of a hundred different perfumes and 
flowers all merged together for an intoxicating fragrance that made 
him linger there for a moment longer.
	His blue eyes looked up to the crescent moon, and he ran a 
hand through his short, raven wing hair. "We really should be going 
to the Moonlight Masquerade," he said. "The midnight hour is 
approaching, and I don't really want to be late."
	"We can be fashionably late," she suggested, still snuggling 
into him.
	He sighed, searching his mind for a way to encourage her to go 
to the masquerade wraith's Christmas dance. Despite the fact that he 
deeply cared for her and loved her, they did have other obligations-
-ancient royal lineage not even withstanding. 
	"You might miss the desserts," he cautioned.
	Suddenly her face was right up next to his, large excited eyes 
and a near drooling mouth presented before him. "Desserts?" she 
exclaimed. "They're serving desserts at the ball?" 
	His eyebrow nervously twitched at the sudden close proximity 
of her face, and all he could do was nod in agreement.
	She beamed, latching onto his arm. "Itadakimasu!"
	He chuckled at her energetic personality; so vivacious she 
was, and yet not without a compassion to rival her level of energy.
	"Ne, you don't think I'm immature, do you?" she asked, 
abruptly losing her childish charm, and becoming serious and sincere 
in her thoughts. "Do you think I'm too immature?"
	Perhaps this is why he loved her so much; ever since had known 
her, she was both a child and a young adult. There was the innocence 
and faith only a young child could have that was embodied in her 
eyes. And when it came to take a stand, she stood taller and more 
defiantly than anyone else. When tears were shed, she was there to 
comfort--though more than once she was the one who needed the 
comforting. And when it came to her friends, nothing else mattered 
more.
	"Usagi," he said. "You are you, and nothing else can change 
that. And I would never give anything to change who you are, my 
princess. I would be the fool if I didn't love you."
	She smiled, her fingers moving beneath his jacket and lacing 
together around his back. "I really do want to go to the masquerade 
ball," she said. "But is it alright if we stay here just a little 
while longer, Mamo-chan? Just hold me for a little while longer."
	"Usa-ko," he whispered, tilting her head up to meet his tender 
gaze. His head leaned down, eyes closing as their lips met with a 
passionate and lingering kiss.
	Her hands gripped him tighter, not wanting to let go. 
	A symphony of night arose from the Citadel, echoing across 
this kingdom, their private universe. Like a siren her soul was 
captivated and possessed by the sweet music.
	"Let's dance, Mamo-chan!" she exclaimed, leaping to feet and 
trying to pull him out onto the meadows at the base of the steps. 
Politely declining, he remained at the base of the stairs beneath 
the portico, keeping dry as he leaned against a column and watched 
her with fond eyes.
	She laughed and danced out there amidst the rains, twirling 
about with her arms outstretched in acceptance of what the starry 
heavens had to offer.
	His eyes slowly grew wider as he suddenly saw a ghostly form 
of a giggling child appear to dance with her beneath the gentle 
shower. And then another child appeared, and still another.
	"So beautiful," he said quietly.
	All the dreamers were coming alive as she wove her own magik 
here inside a world forged of their dreams--beautiful and dark.
	She was lost in the wondrous dance of magik that seemed to 
shimmer all around her. Bangs of shining blonde hair clung to her 
face, cheeks glistening with the rain. Her crystal blue eyes were 
closed as she shared a moment of ecstasy, her body tingling from 
head to toe with a strange caress.
	Abruptly she came to a stop as she spun around, finding 
herself against his chest. She gasped, startled before smiling as 
she stared up at him.
	"I would be honored," he said to her. "if I could have this 
first dance, Usa-ko."
	She blushed. "Mamo-chan...."
	He smiled, his cloak billowing out around them both. "I love 
you, Usagi. And I will never let you go."
	There was no hesitation, no questions, and no need for either. 
The two lovers drew closer and kissed once more beneath the light of 
a pale moon, droplets of rain falling down upon them. Here within 
the boundaries of Illusion they were one in magik and love.
	"Tonight and eternity," she whispered into his ear. "I love 
you, Mamo-chan...."


	Inside a room with a high sloping ceiling, and sparkling with 
shades and colors split by an unseen prism, there sat the Golden 
Crystal. Its warm rays filled the four souls with a serene peace. 
Located at the peak of the fifth and central tower of the Citadel, 
here resided the most powerful and pure of all dreamers' magik. 
	Encircling the Golden Crystal were a series of selected runes, 
each one possessing a different magik echoed somewhere out within 
the borders of the Dreamworld. 
	"Sugoi," the Wanderer remarked, looking around.
	The DreamMaster grinned. "This is but the sanctuary for the 
crystal, Karasu. You haven't seen any true dreams of Illusion yet."
	The sloped ceiling began to retract into numerous large 
partitions, opening up the heart of the Citadel to the night. High 
up here the rain chose not to fall upon this sanctuary, and thus 
they remained favorably dry.
	This room was opening up like the petals of a rose.
	In fact now he could see this entire tower was shaped like a 
rose, from stem to blossom to petals. The pinnacle they found 
themselves within was coming into full bloom. He held his breath, 
slowly lowering his shades and walking towards the railings that 
marked the edge of this chamber.
	Atop his shoulder the lesser dragon made a whistle, very 
impressed to say the least. He nodded. "Hai hai, Suna-chan. Just 
don't get too excited and dig your claws into my shoulder, okay?"
	Far out beyond the Citadel he could see a myst-laiden forest 
that perhaps became the Valley of Myst, the hunting grounds for the 
Mystwolves. He turned back and was met with shimmering moonlight 
reflected off countless waves of water, an ocean he could only know 
to be that belonging to the masquerade wraith. 
	"This is the one realm I've never seen before," he admitted. 
"So this is Illusion. I've heard tales of this place, but thought 
they were only legend."
	"You have legends here?" the Tsukino child asked, turning to 
Helios.
	The DreamMaster smiled. "What do you think Karasu is?"
	He sighed, sliding his shades back up his nose. "Have it your 
way, Helios. Personally I don't think I have the makings of a 
mythus; I've only been around for a thousand years--give or take a 
couple of centuries."
	"That's longer than any other dreamer to this point," she 
countered. "You've earned the right to bear a title of legend, 
Karasu."
	Nodding, flattered and yet revealing a shade of regret at an 
ancient life lost as a result, he returned to looking over the edge 
of the Citadel's tower. 
	"Setsuna, look," he remarked, nodding his head to a place 
further down the paths and courtyards. "Usagi and Mamoru are here 
too. And dancing in the rain no less!"
	They all leaned over the railing,  smiling as the two lovers 
of magik and destiny danced together amidst the gentle rainfall.
	"Mother...Mamo-chan," the Tsukino child whispered fondly.
	"Their beautiful dreams are unlike anything I have ever seen," 
Helios said. "Somehow they found a way into this sacred kingdom. 
Their magik is great, and their love is ever greater. If ever there 
was a true sanctuary inside of the Dreamworld made for those two 
souls, Illusion is it."
	And then a strange, dark aura seemed to fall upon them, hidden 
inside every last shadow Illusion had to offer. The Wanderer raised 
his head. Crystal blue eyes behind his shades looked first around 
the beautiful crystal Citadel, and then up to the midnight heavens.
	"You sense that?" he asked her.
	She nodded, a chill running down her spine. There was a 
strange new wind blowing here, one that whispered of darkest magiks, 
yet keeping itself as obscure as what might reside within a shadow.
	"Something is coming from a dark horizon," she stated 
solemnly. "And with it the beginnings of a revolution of our 
dreams."
	She turned to him, and he could tell that she was dead 
serious. Hell, there hardly seemed to be a time she was never 
serious unless they were enjoying the Dreamworld once a century. As 
the guardian of time's gates, there was always a price. Just like 
the one he had with bearing the mark of a lost soul.
	Distant thunder rumbled.
	And then the crescent moon bled as if pricked by a needle. 
Thick rivers of crimson ran down its full form, slowly covering all 
that could be seen. The pale glow became red, bathing the entire 
plain in the fierce crimson aura.
	"Blood moon," Helios whispered.
	"Helios," the Tsukino child said uneasily.
	He clenched the fist in which the Arashi was sheathed, feeling 
the small claws from the lesser dragon tighten around his shoulder. 
Something evil was in the air...and he feared that he knew all to 
well what it was. 
	She still kept her focus on him through all this. "I need to 
warn you, Karasu: neither this world nor Earth is safe anymore. You 
must be prepared for what is to come, to face who you really are."
	"What do I have to do with this?" he asked. "I'm a damned 
ghost, Setsuna. I've been like that for the past millennia."
	Suddenly the storm broke, the aura erupting into a tremendous 
fury of winds and clouds. With a howling gale it threatened to tear 
the Citadel apart.
	"Kuso! It's the Shadowqueen!" he exclaimed, bracing his body 
as the winds pushed at him. The gales threw his robes taunt against 
his skin, nearly ripping them off his body. 
	The lesser dragon let out a startled honk as it was thrown 
from his shoulder, caught in midair moments later by the 
DreamMaster.
	"Careful, Suna-chan," Helios said, cradling the dragon.
	The winds were growing, sucking up the cloudless rain. And 
with this growth came metamorphosis as a cyclone took shape and 
form, writhing as it reached out to the foundations of Illusion. 
Booming thunder rolled and flashes of lightening in a frightening 
dance that shook the entire kingdom.
	The Tsukino child cried out as the winds tried to sweep the 
young girl away. She moved to intervene, using her time staff to 
brace herself as she caught the girl.
	"Arigato, Pu," the Tsukino child said gratefully.
	The Wanderer fought to walk towards the edge of the Citadel. 
Abruptly his footing slipped and he toppled backwards, unleashing a 
shout of pain as he landed upon his injured shoulder. The 
DreamMaster moved to help him.
	"I'm fine," he shouted over the howling gales, getting back 
onto his feet. "Where does that vortex lead to?" 
	Helios's eyes narrowed. "To the Shadowqueen's kingdom, in the 
wastelands of the lost realms where my magik cannot follow."
	"I thought the Shadowqueen couldn't reach Illusion," he 
countered. "Just as you can't attack or penetrate her kingdom."
	A new fury of lightening shot across the skies.
	Suddenly a scream pierced the gales, one that escaped from the 
lips of the Tsukino child. Their eyes were drawn back to the young 
girl, whose body was starting to painfully flicker in and out of 
existence.
	"Pu...Helios," the Tsukino child whispered hoarsely, curling 
into a ball, knees forced onto the ground. "What is happening to 
me?"
	Her face went solemn, having seen this once before already to 
the poor child. The last time it happened, the Tsukino child nearly 
died. She knelt down to hold the Tsukino child, to comfort the girl 
through the frightening pain.
	"Time paradox," she stated, looking up at the two young men.
	The Wanderer whirled, glaring at the vortex. "It's not here 
for Illusion," he growled. "It's here for Usagi and Mamoru. It used 
their presence to gain access. The Shadowqueen's going to take them 
both!"
	"If she succeeds," she continued. "then Neo Queen Serenity and 
King Endymion will never marry, and Small Lady will never be born."
	Helios dropped down next to the Tsukino child. "Chibiusa! My 
Maiden!"
	"Over my dead body that'll happen," he snapped, breaking into 
a furious race towards the vortex, running against the gales. The 
silver cloak suddenly unfurled from his shoulders, snapping in the 
tempests as it seemed to give him added flight. With one step he 
soared onto the edge of the Citadel's open petals.
	"Baka," she muttered. "You don't have a body to be killed in, 
Karasu."
	He was oblivious to her words as he leaped onto the edge of 
the rose-shaped chamber and gazed down at the kingdom far far below. 
That pause was but a heartbeat in length, lasting only as long for 
him to see where he needed to land.
	He flew into the eye of the storm, fighting to maintain 
control as the vortex threw him about like he was nothing more than 
a rag doll. His silver cloak was suddenly torn from his shoulders, 
the sparkling cloth shredded upon separation.
	"And that was a present!" he snapped; Okami was not going to 
like that in the slightest.
	Suddenly the small, wiry form of a lesser dragon shot down 
past him. He could see fierce determination within the creature's 
eyes. Size didn't matter to the dragon; regardless it would face the 
furies alongside him.
	"Suna-chan!" he shouted. "Brace yourself!"
	He tore his left arm out from the sling, flexing his hand as 
the wound was sealed permanently. Appearing in his open palm came a 
crystal orb, and he hurled it down to the dragon.
	The small creature absorbed the illusion, suddenly swelling up 
and becoming an enormous rampaging dragon with large flapping wings 
that could withstand the force of the vortex.
	"Take me into the eye of the storm!" he barked, landing upon 
the dragon's back and riding with his body tensed in a master 
rider's stance.
	Lightening erupted all around them, the winds tearing away the 
shades across his face and ripping parts of his uniform, his  
shining blonde hair dancing madly around his head. Opening his palm, 
the Arashi emerged with a shaft of piercing light.
	"Usagi!" he shouted. 
	The dragon dove into the midst of the furies, avoiding the 
debris that was being carried away through the hellish, dark funnel. 
The crystal structure of the Citadel was glittering with a thousand 
colors as the winds pounded against it, and though the Citadel held 
firm, crystal shards were being sent up into the air. The dragon's 
body lurched as a chunk of severed earth shot past them, the motion 
nearly throwing him off its back.
	Suddenly the ground appeared before them, and standing there 
was the odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired prince, both 
fighting the winds to reach the safety of the portico. The dragon 
tipped its body, making a dive towards the two lovers. 
	The Wanderer grimly looked up at the swarming clouds overhead, 
crackling with Shadowdemon energy. "Kuso. We're not going to be 
there in time."
	And then a solitary bolt of lightening possessed with blackest 
of magiks and darkest of souls reached out from the heart of the 
tempests, grazing the two riders of the storm. The dragon unleashed 
a bellow, flinging its body aside while he countered some of the 
impact with his own lightening strike.
	Oblivious to them, the lightening shot towards its destined 
target, striking the young prince. The dark-haired prince lifted a 
cry up to the heavens, drowned out by the shrieking gales, as the 
lightening touched the body of the odango-haired blonde.
	Both were lost in a fierce explosion of the light, and then 
the entire portico was ripped from the ground, spewing forth grass 
and shards.
	"Mow through!" Karasu shouted to the dragon, leveling his 
Arashi once more and clearing some of the larger pieces of crystal 
from their flight path. 
	He jerked back his head a something was sucked up past his 
vision. Flying up through the storm's eye, the dark-haired prince 
remained lost in a dark sleep. The young man's limp and battered 
body rested upon the flat surface of a severed pillar. A solitary 
rose slipped out from the prince's fingers, the delicate petals 
shredded within seconds of being lost in the gales.
	There was no chance of reaching the dark-haired prince now.
	"Damn it all," he hissed. 
	His head snapped back as the dragon's growl beckoned 
attention; the odango-haired blonde was being sucked up as she clung 
to a fragment of stairway erratically spinning out of control.
	"Usagi!" he shouted, lunging for the fragment of stairway. His 
uncontrolled flight through the air was met with hostility. A piece 
of crystal shard cut a bloody trail across his left temple, another 
slashing at his arm as he tried to shield his face. 
	He struck the edge of the stairway, using his momentum to 
pounce upon the odango-haired blonde and scoop her up before taking 
another flying leap into the fury of the vortex. For a frightening 
second they were free-falling towards the skies, and then the 
dragon's twisting body caught them up once more.
	"Iie!" the odango-haired blonde screamed, reaching out in the 
desperate hopes of grasping the limp body of the dark-haired prince. 
"Mamo-chan! MAMO-CHAN!!"
	Suddenly another bolt of lightening bent on an attack streaked 
past them, a dodge made by the dragon barely evading the blak magik. 
The dragon vigorously shook out its head, unnerved by such a close 
touch of death.
	"I think someone's noticed us," he darkly remarked. "Suna, get 
us the hell out of here!"
	"Mamo-chan!" the odango-haired blonde cried, struggling to 
carry herself up into the eye of the storm after her eternal prince.
	"Usagi, we can't save him now!" he snapped, trying to keep his 
place upon the dragon and hold her from flinging herself back into 
the vortex.
	The dragon made frantic twists and turns but they were still 
being sucked into the portal at the height of the Devil's Tail. 
Another bolt of lightening tried to smash down upon them, but the 
dragon managed to avoid it.
	The beast turned back its head and hissed.
	"No shit the Shadowqueen's serious about this!" he retorted 
angrily.
	Something solid abruptly struck them, the dragon letting out 
an enraged bellow before flipping over. He was thrown from the 
dragon's back, his own body suddenly lurching as it was caught up in 
the winds. The odango-haired blonde was lost from his grip, and his 
world was turned upside-down in a hellish ascent that threatened to 
tear him apart limb from limb.
	For a moment in his rampant vision, he thought he caught sight 
of the Citadel and the faces of three souls watching him being 
pulled into the portal.
	The pressure of the storm became too great to withstand.
	Darkness fell....

=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 7th Night - The Princess' Tale
Rated R


	Nightmare: (n)  1. an evil spirit formerly thought 
	  to oppress people during their sleep; incubus;
	  succubus  2. a frightening dream accompanied by 
	  the sense of oppression or suffocation that 
	  usually awakens the sleeper.

				-Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary


	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be brought 
to life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for 
others to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a 
thousand dreamers and their dreams. Within every soul lies a story 
to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many 
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko 
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. They 
belong in her embrace. But the Shadowdemons and their Empress belong 
to another, and they are of my skin and soul. I embrace their dark 
realms and dark magik as my own children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their 
creators. The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belongs 
to Naoko Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a 
part of her stories. But the realm of the waking dreamers, and both 
the angels and the demons that exist within them, are a part of my 
own story.  Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles beyond 
the moon, and my Empress belongs in her palace beyond the Sea of 
Night. 
	One of honor does not become a petty thief; I ask for your 
requests if you wish my Shadowdemons to wander into other worlds and 
other stories.

	-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com



	"The spirit that I have seen
	 May be a devil, and the devil hath power
	 T'assume a pleasing shape..."
		
						-Hamlet


	For every pure heart there is a skin of evil.
	For every passionate love there is an equal hate.
	And for every beautiful dream we can dance within, there is a 
hellish nightmare lurking just outside the light. Our world is full 
of such dichotomies, each magik split right down the middle and 
opposed to each other. Their conflict becomes ours.
	The battle is eternal. 
	For over one thousand years I have wandered the Dreamworld, 
cloaked in a veil of mystery and enigma. Only a few know of who I 
am, of what blood flows through my veins. With my immortal eyes I 
have witnessed countless kingdoms and their struggles.
	And none have drawn me in more than those of the odango-haired 
blonde and her circle of friends. On Earth they are soldiers of love 
and justice. In another life, just like one I once knew, they were 
princesses. Each one has fought for what they believed in, and 
together they fight for all of us, for all that is pure and true. 
They have laughed and cried, and some have even died.
	Now the girl destined to be Serenity must face a creature of 
the darkest an deceiving magiks to fight for her beloved, her dark-
haired prince. And she must face this danger alone with only her 
power, her wits and her compassion.
	This is the final tale I have to tell as the Wanderer, one 
where secrets hidden in the shadows we call a past will be revealed 
one by one. Here the eternal war will be waged once again, the 
stakes made and paid in human souls and human dreams. 
	Now is the time to find out what is fantasy and what is real. 
How real is your love? And how far are you willing to go to protect 
it?
	Let me tell you a story....


	THE PRINCESS' TALE


	In the void of the darkness that knew neither light nor day 
she was lost within; a dreamless state that was unaware of sleeping 
or waking realms and the hours they kept as consorts. Here no faces 
or memories existed. There were no tears or laughter, no beginning 
or end, no love or hate. Here there was no life.
	And then with a startled gasp that racked her entire body did 
she stir, arching her back off the floor, eyes wide in panic as her 
lungs were delivered the shock of breath. Her arms slapped the 
surface beneath her, toes curling up, crystal blue eyes trying to 
focus.
	Exhausted from her ordeal, she collapsed back onto the soft 
surface, letting her fingers touch her face, gently probing her 
cheeks and lips.
	"Where...where am I?" she asked herself.
	A raging vortex forged of the blackest of magiks. A flash of 
an illusion and a monstrous dragon. A limp body stolen from her 
grasp, his suited form dragged into the storm's eye by an envoy of 
dark energy.
	Her eyes widened, her mind seeing everything.
	"Mamo-chan!" she cried out, sitting up.
	Abruptly her entire chest was subjected to a cool breeze, and 
she shivered, clutching her breasts. Then she slowly lowered her 
head as she felt her own nipples.
	"Na ni?!" she exclaimed, her face turning red. "I'm naked?!"
	There were sheets of shadows covering most of her; she yanked 
those back up beneath her armpits and tried to cover up. As the 
shock of being stripped naked faded, the images of her dark-haired 
prince replayed themselves back before her eyes.
	But he was not here with her.
	Her head sunk down to her lap. "Mamo-chan," she whispered, on 
the verge of tears. Her fingers reached out and explored her new 
surroundings of black silken sheets.
	"A bed?" she wondered.
	It was a four-post one, with elegant carvings of knights and 
maidens and rampant dragons adorning the dark wooden frame. The eyes 
of the beasts were glittering with precious gemstones.
	She could see nothing outside of the bed, and what she could 
see was bathed in a rich, shimmering blue light. The darkness 
surrounding the bed resembled the darkness of the heavens, countless 
starry lights twinkling all around. She carefully leaned over the 
side of the bed, and saw the stars far below.
	There didn't appear to be an up or down, just...just this 
midnight sky wherever she looked. Was she floating? Was there even a 
floor? Did she even want to try and find out? 
	A soft object fluttered past her, brushing her cheek. It was 
delicate and fragrant, the petal of a flower. She scooped it out 
from the air, holding the petal in her palm.
	"Cherry blossoms?" she whispered.
	Now a steady rainfall of these blossoms, tinted blue in the 
shimmering light, was falling down around her. It was beautiful to 
watch, alluring to lose herself within this rain of petals. 
	She turned, craning her neck to every corner of the bed. Her 
yes came to rest upon a sleeping form next to her, one beneath the 
silken covers.
	Had it been there all this time?
	The person stirred, as if being aroused from a deep, peaceful 
sleep. She swallowed hard, taking the edge of the sheets and pulling 
them back to reveal a mature young woman.
	"Hello, child," the woman's said, slowly sitting up, black 
silk draped across every curve and contour of the woman's body. The 
voice she heard was demure, gentle, compassionate. Like the voice of 
a lover.
	A large portion of the sheets were clutched at the woman's 
breasts, shades of night revealing almost more than her imagination 
wanted to conceive. Long wavy hair of dark gold stretched out far 
beyond the woman's waist, a streak of blue running through some of 
the front bangs; it was almost as long as her own. A tall, exquisite 
figure, full red lips, soft pale skin, and eyes that held a haunting 
shine of black pearl.
	"Beautiful," she whispered, captivated by how alluring this 
young woman looked amidst the falling blossoms.
	The woman smiled. "Komban wa, Usagi. Welcome to my kingdom of 
darkness."
	Fear seized her entire heart. She slid away from the woman, 
tightly holding her own clutch of black silk over her naked body. 
She crawled back until her hand reached out and was met with the 
edge of the bed.
	"Masaka," she whispered. "You...you are...."
	The young woman smiled demurely. "Hai. I am the Shadowqueen."
	Long rectangular earrings that were perhaps ivory dangled from 
the Shadowqueen's ears, crimson runes written down upon each one. 
Around the Empress' neck was a lace choker, dangling from it a 
crescent moon forged of jadestone.
	The Queen looked so beautiful.
	This place looked so beautiful.
	"This cannot...." she protested weakly, looking around.
	"Cannot be a realm of pure, unbridled evil?" the Shadowqueen 
finished for her. "A realm where chaos is the essence and nightmares 
are lurking in every corner? A palace of dark corridors and 
flickering torches and an eerie storm howling outside?"
	"D-don't come any closer," she said, trying to ward off the  
woman.
	The Shadowqueen smiled seductively, leisurely working a way 
towards her, sauntering on all fours almost like a cat. "What were 
you expecting of me, child? The formless evil of Chaos? A grotesque 
creature incapable of loving or being loved?"
	She was being chided by this incredibly beautiful woman in an 
almost motherly fashion. With an eloquent sweep, her hand was taken 
into the grasp of this Empress, and then kissed.
	Her skin tingled at the touch of the Shadowqueen's lips. 
	The sparkling black silk revealed supple legs as the Empress 
stretched out beside her. She swallowed hard, finding her entire 
face a shade of pale rouge in blushing.
	"You are such a cute little child, Tsukino Usagi," the 
Shadowqueen whispered into her ear. 
	The Empress curled around her, arms wrapped around her neck, 
one hand reaching for her breasts. She stifled a gasp as she felt 
the woman's fingers nimbly fondle her nipple through the fabric of 
the silk. 
	"Wh-what are you doing?" she stammered. 
	Yet the effect was arousing her entire body, growing warm and 
desiring more of this affection. Her gasp was quickly becoming a 
moan.
	The Shadowqueen titled her head up so that their eyes met: 
crystal blue innocence and seductive nightfall. She found herself 
lost in the Empress' gaze.
	"Have you ever tasted a kiss of true magik, child?" the Queen 
of the Shadows asked her.
	"Please...." she whispered, her breathing slowing down, her 
mind losing its focus. What was she resisting? Was she even trying 
to resist?
	She made little protest or struggle as the Shadowqueen's lips 
met with hers, still lost in that alluring gaze within the woman's 
eyes. Everything seemed to be caught up in a dreamer's fantasy, and 
her body was being swept away with it.
	Her grip on the silk hiding her body was lost, the covers 
falling around her waist to reveal her breasts. This time she did 
not hesitate when she felt the touch of the Shadowqueen's skin 
against her own.
	She leaned her head back against the Empress' shoulder, one 
arm reaching back to wrap around the long dark hair of the 
Shadowqueen. Her own tongue moved out from her mouth to lick the tip 
of the woman's ear as the Empress continued to make a trail of 
kisses down her neck.
	"You are so beautiful, child," the Shadowqueen purred. "Such a 
beautiful face and such beautiful dreams."
	"My Empress," she whispered, bringing the Queen's face back to 
hers that she could kiss this woman once more. The fondling of her 
breasts was driving her mind into a frenzy.
	Somewhere in the far depths of her memories, the face of her 
dark-haired prince cried out for her to remember, but it was lost 
within the gaze of the Empress' seductive eyes of black pearl.
	Her quiet moaning was hushed as she held her breath, feeling 
the Shadowqueen's caress slide down her belly and reaching for her 
inner thighs.
	"My Empress!" she gasped.
	And then a loud shout not from either of them echoed across 
the darkness that was perhaps a starlit night and perhaps not. It 
was a voice she vaguely recalled in a past memory clouded over.
	"USAGI!!"
	Reluctantly she broke from the tryst, turning her head to see 
a ghostly wraith appearing before the bed, hovering amidst the 
starry night.
	The Shadowqueen smiled. "Karasu...."
	The Wanderer stood there before the bed...or was he hovering 
amidst the heavens? But his shades were gone, revealing burning eyes 
of crystal blue that glared at the Shadowqueen, her Empress. A 
second later he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her off 
the bed.
	As she slipped off the silken covers, her body hovered next to 
his, her two locks of long blonde hair fluttering around her. Such a 
strange sensation; floating yet not visibly floating.
	"Usagi!" he shouted at her, yet she remained oblivious to his 
call or her name. "Usagi! Dammit, wake up! Usagi!"
	"Let me return to my Empress," she whispered, reaching out her 
hand towards the Shadowqueen.
	"Chikusho," he swore, loosening his grip on her but keeping a 
tight lock on her wrist. She was still dreaming of her Empress as he 
turned her around to face him. 
	And then he slapped her across the cheek.
	He slapped her hard.
	The Shadowqueen winced as she tumbled onto a solid floor. 
Tears started to well up in her eyes as she clutched her stinging 
cheek, staring at him with disbelief and shock. "Karasu!" she 
exclaimed. "Why did you do something as cruel as that!"
	The starry night surrounding the bed was lost, replaced with 
exotic chambers of black marble and ancient beauty. The rainfall 
ended, hundreds of small pink petals littering the floor.
	And then she heard the soft, sweet and amused laughter of the 
Shadowqueen. Slowly she turned, her mind clouded by the passing 
moments between waking up in this place and then being slapped by 
him. 
	What had happened? What was this warm feeling welling up 
inside her body? Why was she so wet?
	She gawked at her body when she found herself naked again, 
this time without sheets to pull over. He didn't seem to care, more 
concerned with the Shadowqueen. A crystal orb bounced across the 
floor, touching her skin. Within a blink of her blue eyes she found 
herself wearing her high school uniform.
	The Wanderer came between them, the Arashi's blade casting an 
electric blue glow upon the chambers as it was unsheathed. "Still 
using your twisted fantasies on innocent souls I see, your 
Highness," he growled.
	"Wanderer," the Shadowqueen remarked, lips curled upwards in a 
savage smile. "This is an unexpected visit from you. Why would you 
grace me with your presence?" 
	The Empress slowly rose from the bed, billows of black silk 
fluttering around the woman's figure. The fabric wrapped around the 
Shadowqueen's waist, clinging and revealing.
	If it was meant to distract the Wanderer, he showed no sings 
of losing his focus. "You stole my friends and took them into your 
kingdom," he stated icily. "We both know only you have access to the 
borders of this place. I want them both returned to Illusion, and I 
want you to open the barrier for them."
	He brushed aside some of his bangs of shining blonde hair, 
never letting his dark gaze move away from the Shadowqueen. His 
Arashi sword shimmered in whatever aura was giving this place light.
	She scrambled in behind the Wanderer, unsure of what was 
happening; this was all like some sort of surreal nightmare.
	"In over one thousand years, you have never looked to pick a 
fight with raven angel or Shadowdemon," the Queen said, sauntering 
leisurely towards them. "Wisely enough, in the past you have only 
attacked what crossed your path the wrong way. So then I must ask: 
why start endangering your life now?"
	"You yourself answered that question," he answered evenly. 
"You crossed my path the wrong way when you stole Usagi-chan and 
Mamoru."
	The Shadowqueen seemed amused by the entire situation. "You 
would throw the tattered remains of your life away for this girl? 
How...interesting." 
	The Empress took hold of one of the bedposts, spinning around 
to finally sit upon the dark sheets. The silk wrapped around the 
woman's body moved with a possessed life of its own, folding, 
twirling and breathing all around the Queen.
	"So you hid in the shadows of my magik and penetrated my 
kingdom just to retrieve them? How ingenious, Karasu. But surely you 
know that none can enter or leave this domain without my consent. I 
sense all that goes on within these borders. This part of the 
Dreamworld is my soul, and I am its twisted heart."
	"They are both leaving," he stated solemnly, his voice both a 
challenge and a threat. "Even if I have to stay here for another 
thousand years as a result, you will not have their dreams or their 
magik."
	"One is the other," the Shadowqueen countered. "Their magik 
forges their dreams, and their dreams shine with the aura of their 
magik. All I have to do is seize one and I possess both."
	He growled at that.
	"You don't look as handsome as when I saw you last," the Queen 
remarked, pointing to the cut across his temple. 
	The blood had long since dried in the winds, but the scarlet 
river still stained his cheek and neck. There was no silver cloak 
behind his body, his uniform gone and replaced by his old suit. Even 
at that, his attire was torn in numerous places. Multiple tears were 
across his dress shirt, one of his pant legs was cut open, and his tie was loosened from around his neck.
	"I have you to thank for that," he retorted. "And if I had the 
magik within my illusions I would pay you back tenfold."
	"Yare yare," the Shadowqueen said, waving his words aside. "I 
tire of these games, Karasu."
	"Where is Mamo-chan?" she cried out, finally finding a voice 
to speak with in the company of these Dreamworlders. "What have you 
done with him?"
	"I have given him the gift of his beautiful dream," the 
Empress answered, stepping forward. "He is in my castle now, living 
out this dream. I can let you walk within his dream, child. All you 
have to do is ask of me."
	"She's not going anywhere with you," the Wanderer snapped, 
making a displaying swipe with the Arashi to keep the Shadowqueen at 
bay.
	The Queen of the Shadows smiled, eyes cast at her now. "The 
choice is hers to make, Karasu, and not yours. I invited her to my 
castle beyond the Sea of Night; you are an uninvited guest." 
	She held her breath as she saw those eyes of darkened pearl, 
thrilled with their haunting shine. For a moment she almost 
whispered the name of the Empress, but bit her tongue to keep from 
speaking.
	Suddenly a loud snarl echoed across the ancient chambers, and 
a streak of beach sands came alive from beneath the draperies, 
pouncing upon the Shadowqueen. Large blazing eyes were matched with 
sharpened teeth and crushing jaws as a small but enraged dragon 
launched its attack.
	"Suna-chan!" she cried out.
	He took the advantage gained with the dragon's distraction. 
"Usagi!" he shouted, seizing her wrist and dragging her out of the 
bedroom chamber. "We have to leave now!"
	The dragon, despite its small size, was viciously thrashing 
about as it tried to draw blood from this incarnation of darkness. 
And then the Shadowqueen's eyes flashed an eerie violet. The dragon 
screeched in pain as its body was caught up in a fury of blak magik, 
convulsing as frothy white foam sprayed out from its jaws.
	"Iie!" she screamed, pulling herself back into the chambers. 
"Suna-chan!"
	"Usagi!" the Wanderer snapped, trying to wrench her back 
through the doorway.
	"But Suna could die!" she exclaimed, trying to tear herself 
away from him. Abruptly he yanked her back, pushing her against the 
wall. "Karasu, you're hurting me!" she cried, still struggling.
	"Forget him; he's gone!" he hissed. "The Shadowqueen's magik 
has already stolen his soul. You can't save him."
	His eyes turned back to the Shadowqueen, who was watching them 
both with a coy smile. That sweet laughter of the Empress filled the 
room amidst the dragon's frenzied shrieks: "You cannot escape, 
Wanderer. You can only run so far. And you can only hide this 
beautiful child for so long."	
	"Watch me," he said coldly, raising his free hand to reveal a 
crystal illusion inside his palm. 
	Abruptly the chambers were flooded with a blinding light, and 
she winced as she tried to shut out the light from her eyes. A warm 
feeling came over her, a sensation of flying. She became lost within 
the light and knew she was disappearing from this place.
	Her sealed eyes were unable to keep the tears from streaking 
down her cheek. "Suna-chan," she silently begged. "Forgive me...."


	They were in a corridor, princess and wanderer.
	With the Arashi sheathed, he began to summon an array of 
crystals to weave a subtle net of illusions. In the glow of the 
orbs, the corridor was bathed with an aura of oceanic blue.
	The corridor was of shining silver cobblestone, high arched 
ceilings and elaborately decorated columns. Everything was out of a 
faery tale's storybook, perfected right down to the last detail.
	"Incredible," he muttered, lost in his own realm of thoughts. 
"She loves to play with illusions more than I do. I've never seen a 
conjured fantasy like this before in my life."
	Rows of arched windows opened up to the view of ocean waters 
gently rolling over a floor of cobblestone not two storeys below 
her, as well as scattered fountains and deep pools around the 
courtyard. She leaned forward, savouring the cool winds that brought 
with them a scent of a warm embrace and a lover's kisses.
	"Beautiful," she whispered absently, the horrific vision of 
the dragon's doomed struggle replaying itself in her mind's eye. 
Scorn crept into her heart, directing itself upon a young man who 
seemed to know compassion, but had cared not to exercise it amidst 
the dragon's cries.
	"Don't be too taken with it," he stated solemnly, letting 
another crystal drift away. "This is all a mere creation of the 
Shadowqueen, its sole purpose meant to seduce you until you 
willingly surrender yourself to her."
	She clenched her fists, trembling in quiet fury at how even 
his tone was. As if nothing had happened in the moments before. As 
if they had been sharing pleasant memories and not a terrifying 
vision. The anger could no longer be contained and she whirled, hot 
tears starting to flow down her skin once more. 
	"Why?" she shouted. "Why did you leave Suna-chan behind when 
he needed out help? All you could do was run away while he tried to 
help us! Why, Karasu? Why?!"
	He bristled at that. "I could do nothing for him, Usagi. When 
he attacked, Suna knew he wouldn't make it out. If we had stayed, 
his fate would now be ours."
	"But he was your friend!" she protested.
	"Dammit, you don't understand. You don't belong in this world, 
Usagi."
	"Neither do you!" she exclaimed. He backed down, his face 
looking almost like she had just slapped him. She placed her hand 
over her mouth, the anger gone to be replaced with regret. "Gomen 
ne, Karasu."
	He laughed darkly. "Why should you be sorry? You're right; the 
mistake was mine. Though in words and not action. The Shadowqueen's 
powers rival only Helios' magik--and he cannot help us. Even I can't 
hope to win. Suna-chan bought us time to hide in the hopes that we 
might escape."
	She was standing before him, still trembling and unable to 
accept the fate of the lesser dragon. Her long blonde hair was 
draped alongside her cheeks as she lowered her head.
	"Why did Suna-chan have to do that?" she whispered. "Why did 
he have to die?"
	The gentle embrace of the Wanderer enclosed her, and she clung 
to his suit to find comfort. All this pain because of her. First it 
had been her friends from Earth who suffered; now it was overtaking 
her friends from the Dreamworld. 
	"Usagi," his voice said quietly to her. "Suna-chan chose of 
his own free will to protect you. You never forced him to do 
anything. It was his sacrifice, and I am not about to let it be in 
vain."
	She sniffed, wiping away her tears as she stood on her own. 
With a nod, she was forced to accept the loss of the lesser dragon.
	"As much as I hate to bring you back to harsh reality," he 
said. "We've got enough problems of our own without worrying about 
Suna-chan."
	He glanced out the windows, staring down at the tide-swept 
courtyard. Somewhere out there songbirds were gently serenading the 
midnight of this savage garden. In another dream this would have 
been a beautiful kingdom to roam through, yet there were tangled 
thorns hidden within the form of such a precious rose.
	And the bleeding had already begun. 
	"The Shadowqueen doesn't want Mamoru," he stated. "She wants 
you, Usagi. She wants your body, your soul, your magik. But the 
Empress of the Shadows also loves a fine game such as the one we're 
playing right now--and Mamoru's the key to keep us playing. 
Regardless of the outcome, he will be unharmed...not safe, but 
unharmed."
	She managed a smile despite the knot forming in her stomach. 
"I used to think that only Mamo-chan was the kind who attracted both 
men and women."
	He chuckled, though the humor seemed to taper off as they 
gazed at the crescent moon hanging overhead amidst a thousand stars 
in the heavens.
	"We're on our own, Usagi," he said solemnly. "It's like the 
Shadowqueen said: no one can enter or leave this place without her 
allowing them to do so. She can track us at her leisure, no matter 
how many illusions I summon to hide our auras."
	"My friends will come," she said, hopeful.
	They always came to help each other. The blue-haired genius, 
the long-haired blonde, the dark-haired shrine girl, the tall 
brunette; they would find a way.
	"Not unless they want to taste death...or worse," he 
countered. "If they come, then the Shadowqueen will let them in and 
subject them to the same fantasy you almost got caught within. No, 
the guardians will hold them back--at least I hope they can manage 
that."
	She felt a lump forming in her throat; she knew the others 
well enough that not even hell's gates would bar their way to help 
her. Numerous times in the past they had been willing to pay the 
price with their own blood and breath. They had always been willing 
to sacrifice everything for her. Yet it never failed to cause her 
pain; why them and not her? Why the dragon? 
	Her shining blue eyes widened at a memory. It was just as the 
Mystwolf Okami had once said to her: sacrifice above all, for her as 
a queen and as a friend. She could not understand. She would never 
fully understand. 
	He winced slightly at an unseen pain, his eyes widening and 
then blinking in disorientation. She never saw his hand almost sink 
into the stone at the window's edge. 
	She touched his shoulder. "Daijobu?"
	"Hai hai, Usagi," he answered with a smile. "I'm just using a 
lot of energy and magik in trying to hide us from the Shadowqueen. 
Let's hope she doesn't find us too quickly, and I have to create 
another shadow to hide us in."
	"We'll make it," she said, sincere and determined from the 
very core of her heart. "Ganbaru, Karasu. We'll find Mamo-chan and 
find a way out from this place. Just wait and see."
	"You're so optimistically naive, Usagi-chan," he remarked with 
a grin. "Perhaps that's a part of your charm."
	His own crystal blue eyes seemed to pierce the shadows he was 
standing in. For a moment there was a curious sense of recognition 
in her own eyes as she looked at him, but it was dismissed. After 
all, the Wanderer had lived during the Silver Millennium while she 
was a young princess. And if he was a warrior-mage, perhaps she had 
seen him at the formal gatherings. Still it bothered her not 
knowing.
	She turned her head as a low, guttural growl from around a 
corner echoed past them, followed by loud huffs of warm breaths. The 
cobblestone shuddered with the sound of a heavy footstep. She clung 
to his arm, trying to hide behind him.
	"Uh-oh," he muttered.
	"'Uh-oh'?" she exclaimed. "What do you mean by 'uh-oh'?!"
	The answer appeared, though preceded by a monstrous shadow 
that cast darkness upon them both. Something that might have once 
been a docile dragon loomed over the two, sandy-coloured scales 
lining a taunt body, enormous paws displaying savage claws and 
spikes running down its back. Burning red eyes glared at them as 
smoke filtered out from the nostrils of its sloped mouth, jagged 
teeth surrounding its jaws. Twin horns corkscrewed out from the back 
of its head, dark and shining.
	"What is that?" she whispered hoarsely.
	Opening his palm, the Wanderer's Arashi appeared. He was 
making slow, deliberate movements. "That was Suna," he answered. 
"Now he's become a serpynt, vicious beasts subservient to the 
Shadowqueen and her demons."
	"No..." she whispered, staring up at the eyes bent on 
destroying them.
	He stepped forward, motioning for her to keep where she was. 
"Stay put; I'll be right back."
	Hands clasped as if to pray, she watched him approach the now 
savage beast. Walking out towards the serpynt, he brandished the 
Arashi, electrical arcs rising up from the ground and walls to touch 
the glowing blade.
	"Don't worry, Suna-chan," he said. "I'll make it quick and 
painless."
	With one hand he raised the sword above his head, breaking 
into a run and making a vicious swipe. The blade flashed and 
unleashed a wave of energy that tore a hole through the floor, 
shattering a column. The serpynt's blazing eyes widened as the 
attack struck.
	Her own eyes were filled with newfound shock as to what was 
happening. "Karasu, no!" she shouted. "What are you doing?"
	Suddenly a brilliant flash engulfed the serpynt, only to then 
streak towards the Wanderer. As the glow left the new epicentre, the 
beast was revealed to be unharmed, swiping the attack away with one 
of its paws.
	He let out a startled shout as he somersaulted backwards to 
evade the crushing magik which instead slammed into a row of 
windows. It spewed out debris and dust onto the tidal courtyard 
below, leaving behind an enormous hole in the wall.
	He landed by her side, panting and nursing another small cut 
across his face. "He's more powerful than I thought," he said, 
massaging his neck. "We seriously have to destroy him now if we want 
to survive." 
	Her eyes widened; kill the dragon? Could he even think of such 
a thing? But she had already witnessed him trying to level the beast 
with one attack--while the soul of a peaceful creature was trapped 
inside.
	"Karasu, we can't!" she protested. "Suna-chan's our friend!"
	The serpynt let out another bellow, this one shaking the 
entire corridor and raining down stone chips and dust. It glared at 
them, and unleashed a wave of flaming breath. He grabbed hold of 
her, and flung them both out the gaping hole in the corridor wall as 
the river of flame and smoke nearly incinerated them.
	With an escort of fire they plunged into one of the deeper 
pools of the tidal courtyard. There was a moment of silence, the 
spout jutting out from the middle of the pool creating the only 
noise.
	Then they surfaced, gasping for air. Not a moment later he 
grabbed her waist and erupted from the water as the serpynt's feet 
and claws crushed the spout, raising up a tidal wave. Landing in 
knee-high water over cobblestone, he set her down.
	With an enraged hiss the serpynt turned, its large tail 
thrashing about as it stomped out from the pool. Wings outstretched, 
the beast lifted its massive head and sparked a new river of fire 
that was countered by an illusion summoning the tidal waters. Waves 
formed a funnel and crush the flames.
	"Tenacious bastard," he muttered. He lifted the Arashi again, 
only to have her hands grab his and restrain a devastating blow. 
	"Don't hurt him!" she pleaded. "Don't hurt Suna-chan!"
	"Look at him, Usagi!" he snapped. "That is not the Suna-chan 
you once knew. And if we don't stop him now, then he will hunt us 
down--and make no mistake in that he will kill us."
	"But--" she said, desperately trying to find a way to save the 
dragon.
	He growled, the blade of his sword shining in the pale 
moonlight. "Dammit, Usagi, if you won't attack then I will!"
	Suddenly an enormous paw surrounded by gales of sweeping water 
and foam erupted from the tidal floor, tearing the Wanderer from her 
grip. The dragon smashed him into the walls enclosing the courtyard, 
stone buckling and cracking as he struck, the Arashi falling into 
the water.
	With a large sweeping motion ushering a new wave of water, the 
serpynt turned towards the Wanderer. The beast's eyes showed it 
ready to finish what had already begun. He groaned, struggling to 
rise from the churning tides.
	And then she was between them both.
	"Suna-chan!" she cried out, standing before the rampaging 
beast. "It's me, Usagi. Don't you remember me?"
	The serpynt paused, staring down at her. It was examining, 
searching a faint memory, questioning her existence.
	"Don't you remember Minako-chan and Kishi?" she continued. 
"The sanctuary forest? This is not you, Suna-chan. Please stop this. 
Suna-chan?"
	For a second, blazing eyes flickered in recognition, and her 
heart leapt with a growing smile. This smile faded a heartbeat later 
as the serpynt's shadow fell upon her, a bellow from the beast 
throwing back her long blonde hair and sending up a spray of water.
	"Suna-chan, please!" she screamed.
	But reasoning was gone, and unless she moved death would be 
the last memory within her mind.
	"Usagi!" he shouted, dashing frantically through the water to 
reach her. Abruptly with one step he vanished only to make another 
step right beside her, hoisting her out from the water and throwing 
the two of them aside.
	The serpynt raked down its savage claws, tearing at the 
Wanderer's back. She was beyond finding a voice for her words as 
blood sprayed out from between his lips to decorate hers.
	Separated by the blow, she tumbled through the water as he 
soared back into stone. He let out a stifled gasp as he struck the 
wall, blood now dripping down face and his arm. His body toppled 
face-first into the water, floating there lifelessly.
	She crawled through the tides, frightened to even reach out 
and touch his shoulder. "Karasu?"
	He emerged of his own accord.
	"Bakaiyaro," he growled, laughing with more malevolence than 
she had ever heard. Slowly he rose to stare defiantly at the 
serpynt. "Did you even think for a moment that this would slow me 
down?"
	With a silent call the Arashi exploded from beneath the 
surface of the tidal courtyard, sending forth a shockwave that threw 
the serpynt threw the wall of cobblestone and crashing far into the 
Sea of Night. Unleashing a furious howl, the beast thrashed about in 
the ocean waves to spread its wings and catch the winds. Blazing 
eyes were glaring at him, at them both. She was still shaking 
uncontrollably from facing near death--only to see the Wanderer 
taking and thus spilling the blood.
	"It's time we left this," he growled.
	He launched the crystal illusion at the serpynt, and suddenly 
the orb exploded into a blinding flash of light that engulfed 
everything. Her vision lost, all she could do was feel his guiding 
embrace take her away from this nightmare.
	Tightly she clung to him, not wanting another friend to be 
torn away and hurt. Not like the past. Not like the playful dragon 
trapped within that hellish beast. 
	Not again....


	The illusion misfired.
	For a moment she hung in the air, poised over a large fountain 
with an exotic stone fish spouting forth water. She hovered just 
long enough to look down, and see the drop before the illusion ended 
and gravity began. With a loud, frantic cry she tried to evade the 
plunge in flapping about her arms and legs to push her aside. The 
attempt didn't work. Upon contact she tried to leap from the water. 
That didn't work either.
	"COLD WATER! COLD WATER!" she exclaimed, thrashing about in 
the knee-high water. Coughing and sputtering she pulled herself to 
the edge of the marble fount, a thoroughly unamused expression 
across her face.
	"Karasu...." she muttered darkly.
	She lifted her head from the fountain wall as she heard the 
weak laughter of the Wanderer, her hostility vanishing. 
	The illusion had misfired for them both; he had a lop-sided 
smile as he leisurely floated about in the water, soaked from hair 
to shoes.
	"Karasu!" she shouted, flinging herself on top of him and 
hugging him--and in the process trying to drown him. "I thought you 
were dead back there!"
	"I will be if you don't let go!" he wheezed as he managed to 
surface.	
	She laughed, sitting back. "Oh! Gomen!"
	Needless to say, she was rather embarrassed.
	Spitting out some water, the Wanderer rose up and stepped over 
the fountain wall, wringing out the ends of his torn jacket. A 
puddle of water formed at his feet.
	"I hate it when this happens," he muttered, snapping his 
fingers. A new illusion took hold that dried them both off. 
	She glanced down, tugging at the ends of her regulation 
sailor-style blouse and pleated skirt. "Why this anyways?"
	"I haven't really seen you in anything else," he answered. 
"And it was all I could come up with in a split second. Would you to 
change?"
	She shook her head. "I'm fine." 
	He glanced around the new room, one with high archways and 
balconies and plants lining the base of the walls. Two more 
fountains like this one were in present. They were in an atrium 
somewhere.
	"This place is probably worse than Meikyu's labyrinth," he 
muttered. 
	Only a few steps were taken before the room suddenly spun 
around in his vision. Stumbling as his senses started to reel inside 
his mind, he set a hand against the wall--and recoiled when his 
fingers slipped through otherwise solid stone.
	"Shimatta," he whispered, clenching his fingers into a ball. 
"Not now...out of all the times, why now?"
	"Karasu!" she called out, rushing to his aid. "Are you hurt?"
	He shook his head, keeping her away with a gesture. "I'm fine, 
Usagi. Just a little tired, that's all; the serpynt could never kill 
me, but the illusions I used to heal myself are starting to take 
their toll on my body's energy."
	She bit her lip at the mention of the serpynt beast. 
	"Gomen ne, Karasu," she said, feeling sick to her stomach. "I 
thought I could reach Suna-chan. I...I didn't mean for you to get 
hurt protecting me."
	"It's all just a dirty game she's playing with us," he stated, 
wincing as he flexed his hand. For a second time in but a few weeks 
he was feeling sincere pain never before felt in over a thousand 
years.
	The truth had been hidden from her; he was losing his power 
faster than she knew. That was why his illusion had dropped them 
into a fountain. And that was why not all his wounds were sealed.
	The cuts down his back were numb; he had no idea how deep they 
were, but what he liked even less was the fact that he could be 
injured now despite his true essence. Damned Shadowdemon powers; if 
only his illusions could match them.
	"Karasu," he heard her whisper.
	He glanced down at himself, at the blood dripping down his arm 
and from his fingers, soaking through the sides of his white dress 
shirt. The puddle of water at his feet was slowly becoming a muddy 
crimson.
	"Forget about that," he said, trying to calm her visible 
fears. He stifled a gasp as a surge of pain racked his body; the 
return to ghostly essence had begun.
	"You're not alright," she said, moving closer to him. "So 
please don't lie to me just to make me feel better. I'm sorry you 
were hurt because of me, Karasu. It was my fault."
	He found himself smiling. "Compassion is your greatest 
strength and your greatest weakness. But you don't know how it makes 
me feel to see you smile again, Usagi-chan."
	Her crystal blue eyes were starting to tremble with grave 
concern the longer she stared at the Wanderer's ailing health. And 
then he flickered. Not as if she blinked, but he literally 
disappeared from sight for a split second, and returned.
	"Karasu," she pleaded uneasily. "What's happening?"
	"Usagi," he said, taking slow, deep breaths as his own crystal 
blue eyes looked straight into hers. "You have to realize that she 
is not Galaxia. This is not a once pure soul corrupted by evil. The 
Shadowqueen is pure evil. She is like the Chaos entity that attacked 
Galaxia; she is the nemesis of this world. And until you understand 
that, you have no chance in beating her."
	"What you mean by just 'you'?" she asked, staring at him with 
uncertain and unbelieving eyes. "You sound like we're not going to 
see each other again, Karasu."
	"You will have to go on alone," he stated. She looked into his 
eyes, saw the sweat glistening off his face. He was visibly fighting 
something, though the threat appeared invisible to her.
	She shook her head, unwilling to believe that he was going to 
leave her now. Now? Right when she needed him the most? Another good 
heart was suffering because of her. But she had to fight. She had to 
win back at least one!
	"We can make it!" she said. "Karasu, we've come this far! If 
we give up now, then why even fight in the first place?"
	"I can't fight alongside you any longer," he said, turning his 
gaze to the floor. "My powers are fading, and I'll be a true lost 
soul once more, a ghost."
	"You're not a ghost!" she protested, raising her voice. "You 
were with Rei-chan. You were hurt by Mistress Nine. You're just like 
us, Karasu; you're just stuck between worlds."
	"You really believe that?" he asked solemnly.
	She let out a startled shout, recoiling as he suddenly plunged 
his hand into her belly. Yet his fingers passed through as if she 
were just a dream--or else as if he was just that.
	"Na ni?!" she exclaimed.
	"You want to see what it truly means to be a lost soul?" he 
said, slowly retracting his arm. "Take a good, hard look, Usagi. 
This is the essence of me now: no tricks, no slight of hand, no 
illusions."
	She was shivering, her entire body seized with a cold fear 
unlike any other. This was not terror, nor was it a looming sense of 
dread. This was a new taste in her mouth, a new twist in her 
stomach.
	"Wh-what does it mean?" she asked quietly.
	The Wanderer pushed back the bangs of shining blonde hair from 
his sweat-covered face. "A lost soul is a literal ghost, a soul 
without a body. It cannot touch, cannot be touched, cannot interact 
with anything. When you break through these realms, the conflicting 
magiks of Earth and the Dreamworld tear your soul away from your 
body. I am the result standing here. I was lucky, Usagi. Luckier 
than anyone else, because I was at the time a master of illusions. 
But even still, my magik was nothing like the magik of this 
world...so for ten years of total solitude I wandered. I didn't even 
have the power to take a fleeting glance back at my old, familiar 
realm."
	He opened up his palm, the air coming together to form three 
crystal orbs, the last of his illusions. Once more he began the 
comforting ritual of twirling them around in his hand.
	"Ten years after I became a lost soul," he continued. "I by 
chance encountered a creature who somehow could sense me despite the 
fact that I was a ghost. He was able to help teach me how to craft 
my illusions so that I could once again become actual flesh and 
blood. That creature was a Mystwolf."
	"Okami-san," she whispered. She remembered the words Karasu 
had spoken to the Mystwolf when Mistress 9 had been resurrected. So 
that was the first debt the Wanderer owed.
	"Setsuna once wondered why I always carried these with me," he 
remarked, sighing twirled the crystals in his hands. "I think she 
knows why now."
	They were illusions, specially crafted to go into every last 
domain in the Dreamworld, even a dark kingdom. And there they would 
hide until another lost soul tumbled in, waiting to give life to a 
spirit. That was the reason the dark-haired shrine girl was attacked 
and nearly raped when she tore through the boundaries. For as long 
as they had been together she had held one inside herself, unaware 
of the illusion giving her flesh and blood.
	"But can't you just create an illusion to give you a permanent 
body?" she asked.
	He laughed, amused. "If I was that good, Usagi, then all the 
Mystwolves would still be alive, and the Shadowdemons would have 
been wiped out a long time ago by my hands. I may be a master, but 
mastery of my art has seven levels within itself. I'm only at the 
second.
	"Besides," he added, his form rippling once more. "There is 
nothing for me to return to in your world."
	He was really starting to flicker now, and it was frightening 
her even more. There could be no avoiding or denying that he stood a 
chance at staying by her side. Very soon Karasu would vanish.
	"How can you say such things?" she exclaimed.
	He knelt down, taking care to avoid a wall he might stumble 
through; the strain and exhaustion was wearing his magik thin. "Ten 
years after the birth of the silver moon princess, and most of her 
court, I was trapped in the Dreamworld as a lost soul. Another ten 
years passed before I found within me the power to create this 
temporary body, and visit the Moon Kingdom once again."
	The Wanderer plucked up one of the crystals, holding it close 
to his face. "She was just like I had last seen our Queen," he said 
solemnly, though smiling at a distant memory. "Ethereal even in 
death, Usagi. But I had returned to a world that was destroyed, and 
everything I had come to treasure was gone. Only later did I learn 
from Rei-chan what had happened. There was nothing left for me to 
return to, and by that time my body was already destroyed by 
Metalia's attack."
	"How can you know that?" she asked.
	He gently blew on one of the crystals, the orb floating into 
the air and drifting down a corridor. "When my soul and body were 
torn apart, my body would have remained perfectly intact despite any 
amount of time that had passed. I learned that from another lost 
soul who had spent two hundred years in here, only to return to a 
body that was still as young as when she had left."
	Another spasm of pain caused him to grimace and shudder, but 
for as much as she wanted to help the Wanderer, she knew her 
comforting embrace would be met with no touch.
	"But as for me," he continued. "my body would have been placed 
in a secret chamber beneath the palace where many in the royal 
family would wait until by some miracle I returned. That chamber was 
crushed when the palace fell. And despite Queen Serenity sending you 
all into the future, I was left behind."
	She shook her head, trying to hold back the tears; if only she 
could hold him, to comfort them both. "Serenity would never have 
been so cruel to leave you behind."
	"I had no soul to go with my body," he said plainly. "Even 
though you and Endymion had died, your souls still existed in that 
realm. Mine was lost somewhere between realms, and our Queen's magik 
couldn't find it." He sighed, rolling a crystal across the floor. 
"Maybe if I had met Okami sooner I could have been reborn in this 
era."
	He winced, completely fading for two beats of her heart before 
reappearing. He blinked, trying to keep himself aligned with this 
kingdom.
	"Iie," she whispered, on the edge of breaking down into tears. 
"You can't die. Karasu, you can't die!"
	He smiled, letting the second crystal float away. "Now who 
said I was going to die, Usagi? I have no body to be killed in. This 
form is in essence an illusion. All my illusions come from my own 
magik, but I can only sustain them for so long before I become too 
weak to keep this solid form. And I am using every last shred of 
energy I possess to keep us hidden from the Shadowqueen."
	That at least gave her a hope to cling to; with a hope she 
still had a chance. They both had a chance. "How long before you can 
come back?"
	He shook his head, trying to smile despite it all. "Who knows? 
But right now I just need to sleep for a little while."
	She smiled through her tears, a droplet falling down her cheek 
and touching the corner of her lips. "Daijobu, Karasu. Sleep as long 
as you want. I'll be waiting."
	"Usagi," he whispered, trying to reach out and touch her 
cheek. But his fingers slipped through, and he drew back his hand. 
"Usagi, listen to me. You are every bit the precious soul I knew 
when you were still a young child in another life. Don't lose; not 
now, not ever. Find Endymion, and find a way out."
	Then footsteps echoed across the atrium, and walking out from 
a shadow given life in the pale moonlight emerged the Shadowqueen. A 
smile tugged at those bright red lips, a sparkle in those eyes of 
black pearl.
	"So children, here's where you have been hiding."
	With newfound strength to protect her, the Wanderer grimaced 
and fought to stand against the crackling powers of the Empress. A 
flash of light erupted from his palm, the Arashi appearing once 
more.
	"Karasu," she whispered hoarsely, backing away. Yet a part of 
her refused to leave, to desert another friend putting everything 
they had on the line just for her sake.	
	"Go," he stated to her. "I'll see you on the other side, 
Usagi." And with that, he winked at her. "Daijobu; I haven't lived a 
thousand years for nothing. What of me is there for her to destroy 
once I disappear?"
	She nodded, forcing herself to look away and take one fateful 
step in the opposite direction. She was following her own destiny, 
and Karasu was choosing his. And with her single step went up a 
silent prayer to heaven that he would not suffer because of her.
	Not like the lesser dragon.
	Suddenly the entire corridor was lit up in a fiery green aura. 
She whirled, screaming out his name as she saw the ball of neon 
emerald magik explode around him, electrical arcs striking what 
should have been a ghostly essence.
	He was back onto his knees, propped up with one arm as the 
remainder of his suit was slashed and burned at the edges. Once 
again the Shadowqueen approached leisurely, sauntering as if 
enjoying a moonlit walk.
	"My dear Karasu," the Shadowqueen sighed, visibly disappointed 
in him. "For so long you managed to stay alive even as a ghost, but 
now for defying me you shall die."
	"That'll be somewhat difficult considering I don't have a body 
for you to kill," he retorted, his entire body trembling as he 
fought to stand.
	A simple gesture from the Empress send a bolt of dark magik 
striking the Wanderer. He clutched his hand as the magik slashed his 
skin, sending up a spray of blood and hurling the mystic sword into 
the fountain.
	"Death comes in many forms," the Shadowqueen stated. "I have 
the magik to seal off your illusionary powers forever, Wanderer. You 
will never be a part of anyone's dreams ever again--or anyone's 
world for that matter."
	The pooling blak magik began to encircle the Wanderer, and he 
could do nothing but glare at the Shadowqueen as he was slowly lost 
within the swirling cloud of darkness.
	"Such a pity," the Empress lamented.	
	Abruptly he turned, his crystal blue eyes wide and wild as he 
stared at her. "Run, Usagi!" he shouted, launching his third and 
last illusion. "Remember Endymion!"
	She froze as the crystal orb bounced across the cobblestone 
and then was sent spinning into the air, her entire chest tingling 
as it disappeared through her blouse.
	"KARASU!" she screamed.
	And then the storm converged upon him, swallowing him up in a 
churning cloud of darkness and pulsating evil. The magik continued 
to shrink, and surprisingly shrunk to reveal the crouched form of 
the Wanderer.
	At first she was overcome with joy, with the hope that somehow 
he had beaten the Shadowqueen. But it faded with the realization 
that the magik was not fading, but entering his body and possessing 
it there.
	His ghostly form was but a shadow of itself now, only an 
outline of his contours truly visible. "Gomen ne, Usagi," he 
whispered. "I'm sorry to make you cry." He stretched out his hand. 
"Tell Rei-chan I'll miss her company...."
	"Karasu," she cried, the tears running down her cheeks.
	Eyes closed, the Wanderer surrendered to a more powerful 
magik. He vanished, the last of his body disappearing with an 
explosion of silver sparkles that floated down to the cobblestone 
floor.
	All who remained were her and the Shadowqueen. Slowly her eyes 
met with those of the Empress, and she was shuddering with every 
beat of her heart.
	"Why?" she demanded. "Why are you doing this?"
	"You are asking an ancient question that holds no answer," the 
Shadowqueen answered. "All I wish to do is comfort you, child. The 
others could never understand that I would protect you forever, 
Usagi. All I ask is that you love me, surrender to me and I will be 
your willing servant, your slave."
	Her clenched fists were shaking in furious rage, the tears 
streaking down her skin dying out as her crystal blue eyes glared at 
the Empress.
	"Get away from me!" she screamed. "Get away from me!!"
	Suddenly a crystal orb shot through the atrium from an 
adjacent hallway, smashing itself into the ground and sending up a 
blast of tinted blue light. One of three illusions took hold.
	She closed her eyes as once again the shadows closed around 
her, that she might still walk these corridors without fear for 
perhaps one more passing hour.
	For a moment she thought she saw a fleeting glimpse of the 
Wanderer, but it was nothing more because he was now gone forever. 
	"Karasu," she whispered. "I'm sorry...."


	Silence.
	Loneliness.
	And while there within the beauty of a palace's garden, she 
felt no comfort. She had only herself to comfort and be comforted 
by. A series of strange, crimson Torii's led the way from the upper 
echelons of the palace down to this place. Each gateway was 
intricately carved and decorated with runes she could not read.
	Here in the garden, plants of all beauty and colour bloomed 
full around her as she collapsed from physical and emotional 
exhaustion. Each petal seemed to turn in her direction, sensing the 
presence of a new soul in their midst.
	Sitting on her knees, feet sprawled out behind her, she stared 
forlornly up at the crescent moon's pale shine. On another night 
perhaps it would have been comforting to look at. But reality was 
threatening to crush her fragile heart.
	The Mystwolf Okami had been right all along; she could not 
understand why they all were sacrificing themselves for her. It was 
hard enough seeing her friends in pain because of her, but now this 
was reaching into the two worlds.
	They both had suffered in the hopes of protecting her, and yet 
they failed. Now the dragon was possessed by the soul of a 
remorseless, rampaging beast. Now the Wanderer was exiled to essence 
where he survived but was trapped in a hell of seeing and being 
forbidden to touch.
	Rows of Forget-Me-Not's lifted their petals, rustling in the 
evening breeze. They stared at her sadness. The flowers would 
remember her tears; they always remembered.
	"Karasu," she whispered. "Suna-chan. Everyone...I can't do 
this without you all. I can't go on alone like this."
	"Yes, you can," a gentle voice answered her.
	She lifted her head, gasping in a hoarse voice as the long-
haired blonde's quiet smile stared back at her. Dressed in a sailor 
battle fuku the long-haired blonde was standing before her, floating 
about a foot off the ground and flowers.
	"Minako-chan," she whispered. "How is this possible?"
	"Before he was sent into the vortex," the long-haired blonde 
answered, slowly stepping down from hovering in the air. "Karasu 
managed to give us one illusion to make contact into the 
Shadowqueen's realm. I heard you crying, Usagi-chan, and I came."
	"Are...are you a ghost?" she asked.
	The long-haired blonde laughed quietly, kneeling down next to 
her. "Usagi, I am very much real."
	She held her breath as the girl's hand touched hers, their 
fingers lacing together. Wings of angel's feathers stretched out 
from behind the long-haired blonde's back to encompass them both. No 
longer could she hold all the emotions back, and the flood of tears 
came as she heaved herself into the long-haired blonde's breasts.
	"Minako-chan," she sobbed.
	"Hai, Usagi-chan," the long-haired blonde whispered. "Cry all 
you want. I'm here for you, child. Let me comfort you...." The eyes 
of the long-haired blonde flashed of black pearl, though she was too 
lost in her crying to notice.
	A new fantasy.
	A chamber filled with the sweet smell of perfume and the 
rising steam from the heated waters of this indoor hotspring. It was 
decorated with wooden panels and gridwork, and rocks that hissed 
their own haze and steam. She lifted her head from the long-haired 
blonde's tear-stained towel, the elegant cloth wrapped around the 
girl's body just beneath the shoulders. It was damp with the 
moisture in the air, long and black with crimson hems. 
	"Where...is this place?" she asked quietly.
	She was standing waist-deep in the deliciously warm water, the 
long-haired blonde seated on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in 
the water. Her hair was still with its odango styling, though now 
the two long tails of hair had been braided and wrapped around those 
odangos to keep all her blonde hair out of the water. The long-
haired blonde's own hair was tied back with a golden bow, straight 
bangs dangling around the girl's moist face.
	"Usagi-chan," the long-haired blonde said tenderly, bringing 
her face up to look into the girl's shimmering blue eyes. "I love 
you...."
	Before she could react the long-haired blonde gently pressed 
their lips together, arms wrapping around her back and loosening the 
towel around her own body. She moaned quietly as the towel slid into 
the pool. Soaked, it began to partially sink as the currents carried 
it far from her immediate reach.
	She gave no resistance, warmly embracing the long-haired 
blonde as the tears were lost with the droplets of water from the 
steam. So vulnerable she was in that moment as she stared into her 
friend's eyes.
	"Please," she whispered. "Let me kiss you again."
	The long-haired blonde nodded and they kissed once more, 
pressing their bodies together, breasts rubbing and hands caressing. 
She was growing excited, her cheeks blushing as she stared 
helplessly into the long-haired blonde's eyes. Added to that the 
warm waters lapping at her waist, and nothing of the past could be 
recalled.
	She sucked in her breath as she felt the nimble fingers of the 
long-haired blonde tickle her skin, working their way down her chest 
and then disappearing beneath the water.
	"Minako-chan," she gasped.
	The long-haired blonde moaned as she fondled the girl's 
nipples, the moan cut short as they kissed passionately once more. 
Any tears spilled, any blood shed, any soul sacrificed for her sake 
was lost in this fantasy.
	Abruptly the waters of the hotspring bubbled in white froth, 
and rising up from the surge was a slick crystal. She only noticed 
it as she turned around to feel the long-haired blonde's breasts 
press against her back. The girl's fingers were still causing her to 
gasp as they worked with incredible ecstasy.
	Her eyes widened as this orb hovered before her, a young 
princess' face covered in long blonde hair looking back at her with 
equal surprise. The reflection was lost as the crystal illusion 
flashed.
	She was cast in a shadow of doubt, heart beating faster.
	It was a familiar tale told not so long ago....


	Abruptly she came to a stop as she spun around, finding 
herself against his chest. She gasped, startled before smiling as 
she stared up at him.
	"I would be honoured," he said to her. "if I could have this 
first dance, Usa-ko."
	She blushed. "Mamo-chan...."
	He smiled, his cloak billowing out around them both. "I love 
you, Usagi. And I will never let you go."
	There was no hesitation, no questions and no need for either. 
The two lovers drew closer and kissed once more beneath the light of 
a pale moon, droplets of rain falling down upon them. Here within 
the boundaries of Illusion, they were one in magik and love.
	"Tonight and eternity," she whispered into his ear. "I love 
you, Mamo-chan...."


	Her fingers reached up to touch her lips, his tender kiss 
invoking passionate memories. 
	Tonight and eternity.
	She whirled, pushing the long-haired blonde away. "This isn't 
right!" she stated, her anger rising in violation of her dreams. 
"Iie...you are not Minako-chan! You are not Minako-chan!!"
	She scrambled backwards, splashing frantically through the 
water until her fingers touched a soaked, discarded towel. Throwing 
the towel around her breasts, she glared at the image of the long-
haired blonde.
	Those two eyes of shimmering blue flashed black pearl. "Yare 
yare," the long-haired blonde conceded, a voice belonging to the 
Shadowqueen escaping from the girl's mouth. "It seems I 
underestimated the power of the Wanderer's crystals. But he has only 
one illusion left now."
	"You...you tricked me," she said angrily, clutching the towel 
at her breasts. 
	"You were in pain and grief," the long-haired blonde answered. 
"I only wish to let you feel the true ecstasy of beautiful dreams, a 
level of magik you have yet to achieve by yourself. So I chose a 
face from your memories and created this fantasy in the hopes that 
you would forget your sadness."
	The long-haired blonde's legs rose up from the water and 
crossed one over the other in such a majestic but seductive fashion.	
	"Karasu's illusion should have hidden me from you," she said, 
shaking her head defiantly.
	The long-haired blonde giggled demurely. "This is my realm and 
my own creation, Usagi. How long do you think you can hide in such a 
place of my own fantasy? But I created this all for you, my child. 
Every last breath of air you take is one my magik has given to you."
	A fantasy filled with a hotspring and the long-haired blonde 
faded, replaced by a new atrium adorned with tall glass windows and 
a glass dome high overhead. The Shadowqueen smiled, straightening up 
in that revealing, silken gown of sparkling night, nubile legs 
emerging from the high slip on either side of the dress.
	"I don't want your fantasies!" she shouted angrily, her high 
school uniform restored to her. "I want Mamo-chan! Give him back 
now! Give back Mamo-chan!!"
	And then she awoke.


	"Give back Mamo-chan!!"
	Those were the first words to escape from her upon jumping 
from beneath her covers, a gasp escaping her lips as she clutched 
the sheets.
	"U...sa...gi," came a muffled voice fighting for air.
	She opened her crystal blue eyes to find her hands not 
clutching the sheets but a cat. Not just any plain cat either; this 
was her companion, sharing the same bond of magik. Much like the 
white cat, this one could also talk.
	Her eyes widened as she then unceremoniously dropped the cat, 
the exasperated feline flopping down onto the bed. "Gomen, Luna!" 
she exclaimed.
	"You're sorry?" the black cat muttered. Its fur shone a dark 
blue in the sunlight dripping through the blinds. "It's a wonder I'm 
still crazy enough to try to sleep on the same bed with you."
	But she was thinking back to haunting images now fading fast 
from her mind. There had been something important in that dream, 
something she had to remember. Yet it was all forgotten now.
	"Such a strange dream," she said quietly, rubbing her temples.
	The December morning sun was already climbing into the blue 
skies, its warmth trying to penetrate the cool air outside. She 
sighed as she stared out her window, dressing up for the day in a 
white blouse with a very tight set of blue jean overalls, it straps 
clinging to her chest. At the last moment, almost forgetting, she 
snatched a golden locket from the dresser and tucked it beneath her 
blouse.
	"Isn't it a great day out today, Luna?" she asked her feline 
companion. "After all, it's a Sunday! No school!"
	"What about all that homework you were complaining about last 
night, hmmm?" the black cat inquired. "When did you plan on doing 
that?"
	She giggled, waving it aside. "Later tonight, of course!"
	The cat rolled its eyes. "Usagi, you say that every night of 
the week. It's a wonder you're passing any of your classes."
	"Don't be so mean," she pouted, crossing her arms over her 
chest. 
	"Usagi!" her mother called. "Telephone!"
	"Hai!" she exclaimed. She raced down the stairs, nearly 
trampling her younger brother in the process.
	"Watch it!" he snapped.
	"Shingo no baka!" she retorted, sticking out her tongue and 
giving him a raspberry. The phone receiver was quickly in her grasp 
shortly after. "Tsukino Usagi speaking!"
	"Usagi-chan," came a quiet voice on the other side.
	She smiled at the sound of the blue-haired genius' voice. 
"Ami-chan! You won't believe this strange dream I had, only now I 
don't remember any of it!"
	On the other side the blue-haired genius laughed. "Minako-chan 
and Mako-chan are going out on a shopping spree today, and they 
invited us to come along."
	Her eyes grew wide, and she sighed at the thought of sales and 
cute store clerks. "I love shopping! At least, I would if I had any 
money left," she lamented.
	"Daijobu, Usagi-chan," the blue-haired genius soothed. "I 
don't have any money either. We can window shop together."
	"Hai!" she exclaimed happily.
	"Do you think you can make it to the Fire River Temple for 
ten?" the blue-haired genius' voice asked.
	"Of course," she reassured her friend. "I'll be on time! Trust 
me, Ami-chan!"


	The "on time" she spoke of turned out to be ten thirty rather 
than ten. The dark-haired shrine girl was ready to chew her out, but 
the tall brunette interceded, stating how for her this was arriving 
early.
	"Mako-chan always stands up for me!" she said happily, 
latching onto the tall brunette. She failed to catch the more 
scathing side of the girl's remark, though.
	The dark-haired shrine girl sighed. "Baka."	
	And so a day among the company of friends began anew as they 
all went from storefront to storefront. Malls were toured and 
outfits were tried on. The hours were but a blur in her mind, 
memories that might one day be recalled in the fleeting glimpse of a 
later year.
	Yet there was one moment that stood out from all the others. 
It occurred as they passed a tailor shop for gentleman's suits. So 
many rows of fancy black jackets and lapels, with white dress shirts 
and collars and bows and vests. The other girls passed it by without 
so much as a second glance. She held back, pausing as one tuxedo 
stood out from all the others.
	"That suit," she whispered, placing a hand on the glass. Where 
has she seen it before? Who had once been wearing it?
	"Usagi-chan," the long-haired blonde remarked. "Tuxedos are 
for guys and Haruka to shop for. If you want to play dress up, then 
you have to dress up pretty!"
	With a laugh the long-haired blonde raised a hand in the air 
to give the V-sign. Everyone else sighed, and tried to pretend they 
weren't with the girl.
	She held close to the window for just a moment longer, fixated 
on the tuxedo. "So familiar," she mused to herself. But there was 
nothing in her memories that could match the suit to a face.
	"Usagi-chan!" the dark-haired shrine girl called out. 
	She turned and smiled, forgetting that moment of uncertainty. 
"Hai!" she exclaimed, charging up behind them and lacing hands with 
the blue-haired genius and the tall brunette.
	She saw the tall brunette's rose earring sparkle in the 
sunlight, and sighed. The rose reminded her of...reminded her of 
what? Was it something important? Was it something from her dream?
	She simply shrugged it off, laughing with her friends as they 
continued to play away the remainder of the rising evening with its 
moon and stars.
	It must have all just been a dream and nothing more.

	
	The clock was nearing the eleventh hour that night as the five 
girls parted company from the Shinto shrine, each one going their 
separate ways to places called home.
	"Usagi-chan," the blue-haired genius asked. "Will you walk me 
home?"
	She smiled and nodded, happy to be in the company of her 
friends. 
	It was a cool night out, though quite mild considering it was 
late December. Tokyo did get very cold in the winter, but this was 
strangely enough not one of those nights. The walk was not very 
short though not unnecessarily long, and together they talked of 
dreams and ambitions, the blue-haired genius shyly blushing at the 
mention of boyfriends.
	"Would you like to come in?" the girl offered once they 
reached her front door.
	She felt the warm blast of air from inside and promptly 
stepped inside to remover her coat and shoes. "Where's your mother?" 
she asked, poking her head into the kitchen. She spotted a package 
of cookies left out on the counter. "Ah! Chocolate cookies!" she 
exclaimed, pouncing upon the hapless snacks. "Itadakimasu!"
	"My mother's out of town this weekend for a conference in 
Osaka," the blue-haired genius said. "Come on, we can go to my 
room."
	She nodded in agreement, stuffing more cookies into her mouth 
and still managing to find more space between her cheeks to pack in 
at least two more.
	Up the stairs the two walked, finding the blue-haired genius' 
room and settling down on the edge of the bed. The blue-haired 
genius quietly closed the door behind them as she continued to wolf 
down the cookies.
	Abruptly she burped. "Oops. Gomen!" she giggled.
	The blue-haired genius laughed pleasantly, smiling at her with 
quite love on those ocean blue eyes, joining her at the edge of the 
bed.
	"Daijobu, Ami-chan?" she asked, swallowing the last of the 
cookies followed by a quick wipe of her mouth to get rid of any 
crumbs.
	The blue-haired genius simply continued to smile. "No, Usagi-
chan. I'm very happy."
	She swallowed nervously as the blue-haired genius got down on 
all fours, crawling across the mattress towards her. "Um, Ami-chan?"
	"Usagi-chan," the blue-haired genius said quietly.
	She gave a startled yelp as the girl licked the lobe of her 
ear. "Kyaa! Ami-chan, what are you doing?"
	The blue-haired genius leaned away from her. "Is this a new 
game you want us to play together?" the young lady asked, unsure of 
how to interpret her surprise.
	"What kind of game were you thinking of playing?" she 
exclaimed. "Ami-chan, you were licking my ears!"
	The blue-haired genius turned away, trying to hide the 
saddened tears. "You mean you really don't remember?"
	She faltered for a moment, flustered but stunned again. 
"Remember what?"
	Slowly the blue-haired genius's face was lifted to meet hers, 
their lips tantalizingly so close to each other. The blue-haired 
genius leaned forward, embracing her. The girl's mouth moved next to 
her ear to whisper but three words: "Open your locket."
	She pulled out the locket from beneath her white blouse; 
'Forever Love' was etched on the front of the gold pendant. A gasp 
escaped her lips as she opened the heart to gaze at two faces 
inside. She was one, with that same odango-style hair and a silly 
grin. The other was of the blue-haired genius, a shy smile and 
bright ocean blue eyes in the girl's expression.
	"Ami-chan," she said, trying to shake her stunned disbelief.
	"Have you forgotten that night at the hotsprings?" the blue-
haired genius whispered sweetly into her ear. "Don't you remember 
how you held me there in the steaming waters and kissed me? Have you 
forgotten what my touch feels like?"
	She was certain her face was turning new shades of rouge given 
how hot her cheeks felt by this time. The nimble fingers of the 
blue-haired genius worked their way to undo the straps of her 
overalls. She gave a nervous laugh, completely unprepared and 
uncertain of what might happen.
	Her thighs tensed as another hand found its way through her 
jeans, scratching at her panties. She was starting to breathe faster 
now, crystal blue eyes wide. Memories of this girl's face returned 
to her mind, but she could find none that made sense of this game.
	A rose.
	A tuxedo.
	What did she have to remember? Was it this girl next to her?
	"I would love you and protect you forever, child," the blue-
haired genius whispered, stroking her breasts. 
	Crystal blue eyes widened
	--protect--
	as a single memory fought through the fantasy. 
	She gasped as she lay sprawled out on the bed, a new face 
emerging in her memories. The blue-haired genius was suckling on her 
breasts, one hand starting to pull away at her damp panties. Any 
further and the memory would be lost.
	"Protect," she repeated, her fingers reaching up to touch her 
lips. "Guardian...Chiba...Mamo-chan!"
	"Daijobu, Usagi-chan?" the blue-haired genius asked, 
concerned. The movements on her body had paused in that moment, and 
she seized the chance to squirm away.
	She slapped away the hand that reached out to comfort her.
"This isn't real!" she exclaimed. "This is all a lie! I love Mamo-
chan! Mamo-chan is my beloved!"
	The blue-haired genius leaned back on the bed, chuckling 
demurely, covers half draped over the girl's body. A flash of black 
pearl overtook ocean blue eyes. As if the entire scene was made of 
glass, the bedroom shattered, this bedroom fantasy mirrored inside 
each shard that fell to the cobblestone ground.
	She was on a bridge now, one that connected two courtyards of 
the palace together over a bubbling stream below. Seated atop the 
railing, the Shadowqueen laughed again, deep golden hair billowing 
out in the wind.
	"You are ever impressing me, child," the Empress said with a 
smile. "This time you saw the fantasy through your own power. 
Perhaps just as well considering you only have one illusion left. 
Such beauty and determination in those eyes."
	"Where is he?" she demanded. "Show me Mamo-chan!"
	Eyes of shining black pearl lowered to the floor in 
submission. "As you wish, child. But do you really want to see his 
beautiful dream?" the Shadowqueen asked, concern creeping into the 
woman's voice. "I have hidden your prince from you because I do not 
wish for you to feel such pain. Already you have suffered so much. 
Why feel one more twist of the knife?"
	"Let me see Mamo-chan," she stated coldly, losing much of her 
patience. She was being pushed too far with this deception, and 
wanted it all to simply end.
	"Turn around, Usagi-chan," the Empress said.
	It began to rain cherry blossoms once more.
	She turned, her heart beating rapidly inside her chest as a 
new chamber opened up, a young man rising up from beneath the covers 
of a bed. "Mamo-chan," she whispered.
	There was her dark-haired prince.
	She smiled, her soul rising within her chest as she raced into 
the room. But her footsteps came to an abrupt halt as another girl 
rose up from behind the dark-haired prince, arms wrapping around the 
young man's chest. The dark-haired prince's head titled forward, and 
the two on the bed shared a passionate kiss, breaking only to gasp 
for air. The girl's long dark hair seemed to shimmer in the pale 
light.
	She gasped, her stomach twisted and making her feel sick. 
	"Mamo-chan," she whispered, clasping her palm over her mouth, 
the tears streaming down. "Rei-chan. Why?"
	What was the meaning of this...betrayal?
	"Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince said, taken aback and 
straightening up in noticing her presence. "What are you doing 
here?"
	"I...I came here to find you," she stammered. "What are you 
doing?"
	The prince glanced over to the dark-haired shrine girl. "Gomen 
ne, Usa-ko. I'm sorry it had to come to this. I felt it best you 
didn't know."
	"Ever since we first began dating for that brief period," the 
dark-haired shrine girl said, warmly nuzzling against the prince's 
back. "I have always been the one he truly loved. You were bound by 
destiny, but this is his dream, and in it I am his beloved."
	There was a coy smirk about the dark-haired shrine girl, as if 
the girl was taunting her. They had always fought before in the 
past, but never like this. Never like this.
	"Liar!" she cried out. "Liar! LIAR!!"
	"Gomen, Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince said one last time, 
returning to the dark-haired shrine girl for a passionate kiss.
	She turned away, more tears squeezed out from the pain of two 
sealed eyes. "Take me away from this place," she said quietly. "Take 
me away from this dream."
	"If it is any comfort to you," the Empress said softly. "that 
was not the true form of the girl you called Rei-chan; she is merely 
a construct of his dream."
	"It can't be," she said, still in shock. "Mamo-chan loves me. 
He would never do something like this."
	The chambers dissolved into night, and the night became a long 
corridor of cobblestone that overlooked a garden of flowers and 
plants below. Had she once cried in that garden?
	"Love is a fragile thing, Usagi-chan," the Shadowqueen said, 
resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "And with it comes delicate 
hearts. Now do you see why I wanted to hide this from you?"
	No more could she tell what was real or fantasy. But could she 
doubt her senses, or her love? Was he really in love with the dark-
haired shrine girl? Her head was lowered, the tears starting to 
spill again. How many times tonight had she cried? Everything was 
falling apart, her entire life unraveling before her very eyes. 
	"Can I at least see the others?" she asked, her voice barely 
even managing to become a whisper.
	"Lift your head, child," the Empress' voice said.
	She stared up at a young girl not any older or younger than 
herself, a girl with long blonde hair done up odango-style with two 
long tails on either side of her head. Tear-filled eyes of crystal 
blue were trembling as this girl reached out a hand and touched the 
glass surface. For a moment she believed she could clasp hands with 
her reflection.
	A wave of light moved down the mirror, washing away her 
reflection. The real dark-haired shrine girl was sleeping alongside 
the shrine protege, naked beneath the covers of a futon. All around 
the candles had shadows dance around the room of the shrine 
building....
	Another mirror opened up.
	Her hands touched the surface, glass rippling like water as on 
the other side the masquerade wraith and the blue-haired genius were 
dancing behind facades and gowns, laughing amidst a twirling parade 
of masks.... 
	Laying down in the lap of the raven angel, the tall brunette 
listened to what must have been moving poetry. She noticed a golden 
band around the tall brunette's finger as it caught the light of the 
moon....
	In the company of clouds and dragon's fire the raven knight 
and the long-haired blonde stood atop the back of an enormous 
dragon, its beating wings all around them. The long-haired blonde 
was screaming excitedly in the cool air as the raven knight stayed 
behind the girl to keep them both balanced. The little sandy-
coloured dragon was not among their envoy....
	"Suna-chan," she whispered. Would the lesser dragon ever be in 
their company again? And it was all because of her.
	To the thundering sound of Silvermane hooves, the tall, sandy-
blonde and the aqua-haired woman rode through the fields as if they 
were storms in the sky. While the sandy-blonde pushed the determined 
steed as hard as possible, the aqua-haired one held a more majestic 
aura in riding....
	She lowered her head, wondering if all was over, if the dreams 
had ended. But them her eyes gazed into the mirror one last time as 
a child she knew to be hers one day appeared. The young girl was 
smiling and dancing through crystal corridors with a handsome young 
man once a Pegasus in the girl's beautiful dream....
	"Chibiusa!" she exclaimed, pushing against the glass.
	What was the Tsukino child doing here in the Dreamworld?
	But as she looked at the DreamMaster, the more she understood. 
Then the Tsukino child had come back to be with a soulmate. Everyone 
was here in the Dreamworld with their soulmate. Everyone had their 
own beloved, and she was here, alone. 
	Betrayed.
	Rejected.
	They appeared in a throne room for the Empress, one with a 
raised dais where an elegantly carved chair of black pearl awaited 
at the top of curving stairs. All around was cobblestone and 
enchanted lanterns that gave the chamber a comforting glow. High 
overhead there was a circular glass window revealing the crescent 
moon.
	"There is no one else left," the Shadowqueen said softly into 
her ear. "They have their own lovers, their special soulmate to 
dance with until eternity itself finds a way to end. You have been 
left behind, Usagi." 
	"It can't be," she whispered, a trembling hand covering her 
mouth. "This must be a lie."
	The Empress lifted her face, and she could only stare in 
surprise as the woman's eyes began to pour out tears. "Can you not 
see how they abandoned you?" the Shadowqueen cried, wrapping her 
tightly in an embrace, and sitting back into the throne of shadows. 
	But was it true? They all cared about her, didn't they? But, 
then where were they now, right when she needed them the most?
	She held her breath as the Shadowqueen's lips touched hers. It 
was but a brief, tender kiss shared between them, yet it stirred 
within her emotions that exploded inside herself. She surrendered to 
the Empress' touch, her own arms embracing this elegant young woman 
as she began to sob.
	"My Empress," she cried, finding comfort from the warmth of 
the Shadowqueen's skin. Such a warmth, one that made her entire body 
tingle as if she was experiencing love all over again. After all 
this, the magik was flooding into her body.
	She felt her Empress' fingers wipe away her tears. "I love 
you, Usagi-chan. Please love me too, and let your beautiful dreams 
become mine."
	She nodded, burying her face into the Shadowqueen's breasts. 
Who else was left for her?
	What else did she have to return to?
	"Mother! I've returned!"
	Her eyes widened; whose voice had called out amidst her 
sorrow? She turned her head to see a young man standing before a 
starry midnight sky, surrounded by ruins of what must have been a 
once rich and beautiful world.
	Something in her heart seemed to arise, awakened by distant 
memories. "Silver...Millennium," she whispered. 
	This was the remains of the Moon Palace. 
	The young man was oblivious to her as one is to a ghost of the 
past, leaping over fallen pillars and sifting through some of the 
rubble. "Anyone?" the young man asked, his voice echoing across the 
harsh silence of the night. "Can anyone answer me?" 
	Picking up a scrap of stone, he tossed it into a puddle of 
murky water. "This can't be the palace, could it? Could Okami-san 
have been wrong? Have I been gone this long?"
	For a long time he stopped to stare at the midnight skies 
overhead. Nothing was said, and she was unsure if he would hear her 
even if she spoke. The winds were a low howl, tugging at his royal 
robes and flowing silver cloak.
	"No bodies," he mused, running a hand through his shining 
blonde hair. "No blood. No weapons of war. Just ruins where home 
once was. This makes no sense; what the hell could have happened?"
	She seemed to hover over him in the air as he worked his way 
towards a sea that once knew serenity, but was now just an empty 
hole, a gaping maw of grey and lifeless stone. The closer he reached 
the crater's edge, the worse the devastation. And with each step, 
the more frantic he spoke aloud words to delude himself.
	Yet delusions only work as far as one allows them to, and his 
were dying before they could even be given birth. "This must be a 
hallucination," he said quietly, summoning a familiar sword from the 
palm of his hand. "This can't be what I think it is. Everyone will 
be waiting for me over the next hill. It's some big surprise party. 
It just has to be!"
	He reached the next hill.
	And he saw the ethereal body of the Moon Queen, dressed in 
flowing white robes and wings of faery gossamer. The Queen was in an 
eternal sleep, beautiful and at peace, resting upon a slab of silver 
stone. But this was one sleep that no kiss could ever wake the Queen 
from.
	All composure was lost, as was the grip on his sword. His 
entire body shook as the weapon clattered down into the rubble, the 
young man slowly making his way towards his Queen. A hesitant touch 
to the woman's cheek confirmed his worst fears. 
	Then came the anguished howl of worlds and paradises lost. 
"IIE!" he screamed, dropping to his knees before the fallen Queen. 
"SERENITY!!"
	His voice was lost thereafter in the stunned horror presented 
before him. Carefully he cradled the Queen in his arms. "This can't 
be," he whispered hoarsely. "What in the hell happened here? Can't 
someone tell me what happened her...?"	
	Sealed and clenched, his eyes still bled tears. 
	He turned to her, opening his crystal blue eyes to stare 
directly at her. In tormented rage he challenged her. "Why did I 
even come back?!" he demanded angrily. "What did I have to return 
to?!"
	Suddenly a fiery light erupted from the ground, rising up in a 
ring of flames to encircle the young man. Now the royal robes were 
gone, replaced with a strangely familiar black suit jacket and 
pants, white dress shirt and thin black tie. A pair of shades were 
over his blue eyes as his long blonde hair rustled in the winds.
	"What is left here for me?" he asked again, his voice stronger 
in finding an answer. A beam of moonlight caught his shades, and 
flashing before her were realms never before seen by her young eyes. 
Of a thousand kingdoms, of a thousand dreamers lost and found.
	One final image appeared in the reflection: an odango-haired 
blonde and a dark-haired prince dancing together beneath gently 
falling rain, so much in love and in sharing laughter together. 
	"Mamo-chan," she whispered.
	The beating of her heart hammered between her breasts, a 
glowing light brightening her skin to a pale white.
	A new place, a new dream within a dream.
	There was a glass cage, inside a deep blue water that expelled 
thick streams of bubbles which leisurely floated to the ceiling. And 
trapped within the center of this pool was her dark-haired prince.
	"Where is Usagi?" the dark-haired prince shouted, pounding 
furiously on the glass. "Damn you, what have you done to her?!"
	Standing at the base of the stairs leading up to the glass 
display was the Shadowqueen, never any different than what the 
Empress had seemed before.
	"It is rather unwise to use up your energy so easily," the 
Shadowqueen said, a dark smile tugging at the woman's lips. "Your 
beloved princess will never be in any danger so long as she is in my 
arms, her magik becoming mine. Call out her name all you want, 
Endymion; she'll soon forget all about you."
	"Usagi!" the prince shouted, throwing himself into the glass 
but to no avail. "USAGI!!"
	She lifted her head from the Shadowqueen's breasts as, with 
that final cry of her name, the fantasy shattered. She pushed back 
from the Shadowqueen, her eyes burning with righteous anger.
	"You lied to me!" she shouted. "This is not my dream! This is 
your nightmare! And I will not be deceived any more!"
	Suddenly her body convulsed as the final illusion emerged from 
her chest, the crystal disappearing in a ball of light that swiftly 
wove its way out the nearest window. 
	Exhausted from her ordeal, she dropped to her knees. 
	Then to her surprise, a set of helping hands lifted her back 
onto her feet, supporting her. Yet no one was beside her; it was but 
an illusion. Slowly she turned her crystal blue eyes to the base of 
the stairs and saw another pair of crystal blue eyes staring back.
	"Komban wa, Usagi-chan," the young man said, shining blonde 
hair dancing around his face. "Did you miss me?"
	She couldn't say a word as stared at the Wanderer. Instead her 
emotions caused her to leap into him, embracing a friend she thought 
was gone forever. "Karasu!" she exclaimed, racing down the stairs.
	"I thought I sealed you off permanently, Karasu," the  
Shadowqueen sourly remarked. "However, I see you are still alive and 
in as solid a form as your illusions can create."
	He grinned wickedly. "I've been here all along, your Highness. 
You just sealed off one of my poor, hapless illusions. Now as you 
can see, I'm back and so is my magik."
	"I have been patient with you for a long time, Karasu," the 
Shadowqueen stated; rising from the throne. "But now my patience is 
wearing thin, and I fear my pleasant disposition will end very 
soon."
	Without waiting for a response, there was a snap of the 
Empress' fingers. A thick cloud of dark mist pulsated out from 
behind the throne, the mists beginning to swarm and close together 
to create form and essence.
	The creation was that of a serpynt.
	The Empress turned to the Wanderer. "I can still use my own 
dark magik to overpower your illusions and make you suffer. Ghost or 
no ghost, you can be killed."
	He smirked. "Death is a rather trivial thing to me, Empress. 
I'd like to see you try it."
	"Suna-chan," the Shadowqueen instructed. "Do not harm the 
child, but tear the Wanderer to shreds. Prove your loyalty to me by 
ripping out his still-beating heart." 
	Its immense demon wings beating in the air, the serpynt let 
out a horrific screech and lunged for the Wanderer, claws and teeth 
gleaming in the pale light as it spewed forth fire.
	"Bakaiyaro!" he snapped, launching a volley of crystals. "You 
can't fool me with the same trick twice!"
	The serpynt beast howled as the orbs flashed to become an 
electric storm that stung the immense creature until its howls 
became silenced. The serpynt's body crashed to the ground, knocking 
through a portion of the stone walls.
	"Suna-chan!" she called out. But the serpynt merely gave a 
weakened grunt before losing consciousness, its chest heaving with 
labored breaths.
	"You are getting better after all," the Shadowqueen remarked. 
"I don't think you've ever truly managed to defeat a serpynt without 
killing it first. But I fear you cannot win against my power, 
Wanderer."
	He shook his head. "Either I go all the way, or I die trying."
	"An acceptable offer," the Empress answered solemnly, raising 
a hand that was alive with crackling magik. 
	He met the challenge, letting the Arashi's blade glow and 
summon its own magik. Both powers were creating massive fields, each 
one sending down a shower of sparks when magik struck against magik.
	She held her breath; these two were ready to kill each other 
unless she intervened somehow. But was Karasu right? Did she really 
know enough of this realm to help?
	"Do you really want this to go on?" the Shadowqueen abruptly 
asked her. The blak magik never ceased, the Empress strolling down 
the stairs without making a visible effort to attack the Wanderer's 
magik. "Are you willing for more to suffer like this? Just surrender 
your magik to me and all your pain will be taken away. He will not 
be harmed if you give yourself to me." 
	And suddenly the elusive answer to everything came clear from 
mists of confusion and second doubts. All the deceit and betrayal, 
all the tears and laughter, all the dreams that found life inside 
this realm...she realized just what its true magik was.
	"I believe in what I'm fighting for," she answered. "You 
cannot steal the love we have and twist it into darkness. You hurt 
Suna-chan. You tried to kill Karasu. You have plagued all our dreams 
with nightmares. I will never forgive you for what you have done!"
 	The Empress' eyes narrowed, blak magik starting to crackle 
around the woman's form. "So be it," the Queen hissed. "I loved you, 
Usagi. I cared for you, protected you, and this is how you repay 
me?"
	"I believe in love!" she shouted. "And you have stolen it from 
me! Give me back Mamo-chan!!"
	Suddenly there was the Wanderer standing between them. "Get 
the hell away from her," he snarled at the Shadowqueen. "You touch 
my sister again, you bitch, and nothing in either world will be able 
to stop me from destroying you!"
	All her concentration faltered in that moment, a shocked look 
across her face as she stared at the Wanderer. All from one word: 
sister. But then that would make him her...her brother, her older 
brother.
	Siblings?
	The Shadowqueen laughed. "Tenacious even to the end, Karasu. 
But tenacity will only take you so far."
	"Really?" Karasu retorted, tightly gripping the Arashi. "I 
still have a few tricks up my sleeve...LIKE THIS!"
	He ripped the shades from off his face, crystal blue eyes wide 
in rampant ferocity. All his shining blonde hair danced wildly 
around his face as gales rose up inside the throne room. The force 
was enough for the billows of winds to be seen as waves of misty 
grey.
	A battle aura unlike any other erupted from his body, tearing 
the jacket and shirt and tie from him, the scraps of fabric 
incinerated upon leaving his skin. The blast send her sprawling 
backwards onto the floor with a startled yelp. Even the Shadowqueen 
backed away as an aura of hidden magik unfolded before them both.
	"Karasu," she whispered.
	The mark of the lost soul upon his back flickered, the rune 
strokes erupting into beams of searing white light. And as they 
faded, a new marking appeared on the Wanderer's body, one that had 
for so long been sealed off when soul and body had been separated. 
	Upon his forehead a crescent moon exploded into being.
	The mark of the royal family.
	Quickly the rampant magik flickered and died out, the mark of 
a ghost gone but the crescent moon still shining upon his forehead. 
He turned his head, smiling as he stared down at her.
	"M-masaka," she stammered.
	A hundred questions were raging through her mind. Why did she 
never know? Why hadn't he told her about their bond by blood? So 
many questions!
	"They were hoping for a girl," he admitted. "The true magik of 
the Eternal Moon is passed on through the ladies of the royal 
family. You can't imagine how disappointed I was to discover that I 
was a guy."
	With a shout of invocation, the Shadowqueen threw up a scourge 
of blak magik against them. The Wanderer flung a series of crystals 
into the air, each one sending out a beam of sparkling golden light 
to form a netting that held back the Empress' onslaught.
	Sweat was starting to trickle down his face and chest. "I 
can't hold this for long," he told her. "If you have a plan, I'm 
open to suggestions right now."
	She nodded, closing her eyes and focusing her own powers.
	There was a way.
	"Please," she whispered, sending out her plea into the forever 
night of the Dreamworld. "Minna, give me your powers. Help me fight 
against this evil." 
	There was no guarantee that she could reach anyone, but she 
still had to try. Her high school uniform rippled in the winds, 
morphing into a silken white gown. From her back, two enormous 
angel's wings unfolded to send up a storm of white down. Arms 
stretched out before her, she summoned the ultimate magik she knew.
	The Silver Crystal appeared in her palms.
	She had become the Princess of the Silver Moon once more.
	He whirled as he felt her own magik ripple across the Empress' 
castle. "Usagi, what are you doing?!" he snapped. "The other Senshi 
are sealed off from us; you don't have enough power to survive the 
crystal's magik. That's what killed our mother!"
	"She did this in the hopes we would find sanctuary once 
again," she said quietly, the rages of the battle lost from her 
hearing. A strange calm filled her, an acceptance of what was to 
come.
	"I will protect you, Karasu," she whispered. "by sealing her 
within this palace forever. Suna-chan, Mamoru, everyone...you will 
all be safe once more."
	He winced as the Shadowqueen's attack broke a crystal orb, a 
stray bolt of blak magik smashing into the floor right beside him. 
"And what if that fails? If the crystal cracks and you die, I would 
never forgive myself!"
	He focus returned to the Shadowqueen, but his words were still 
for her. "Usagi, your magik is not of the Dreamworld. The 
Shadowqueen's magik is not of Earth. You don't deserve this; get out 
and let me take care of this!"
	"You have already suffered so much for me," she answered. 
	Another crystal orb shattered, another bolt of dark energy 
grinding cobblestone into dust.
	"Usagi-chan," he said softly, his voice reaching out to her 
though his lips were still. "I have been a ghost almost all my life, 
and during that time I demanded answers as to why I was still here. 
But I found a reason to carry on, and that was in seeing the love 
you and your friends share."
	She opened her mouth to speak but a voice was lost to any 
words she had to say. The Wanderer's face remained expressionless as 
he fought against the Shadowqueen to buy them both more time. She 
began summoning the magik of the eternal moon into the Silver 
Crystal, the gemstone glittering amidst all the flashing lights.
 	"You will make it out, Karasu," she stated. 
	A whole row of illusions shattered, a wave of blak energy 
crushing the ground before them. The Wanderer leaped back, silencing 
the attacking magik with a blow from the Arashi. "Kuso," he hissed.
	There was nothing more he could do to stop the Shadowqueen.
	"Shin'ne!" the Shadowqueen hissed, raking a hand down to the 
floor. Streaks of scarlet red tore through the air, racing towards 
him. He gripped the Arashi, preparing for his last stand. His last 
prayer was that this final sacrifice would buy her enough time to 
escape with her dark-haired prince.
	Suddenly the attack against him was deflected by the growing 
power of the Silver Crystal. He whirled, staring at her in disbelief 
as the Silver Crystal glowed fiercer, its purifying light starting 
to engulf the throne room.
	"Usagi!" he shouted over the growing tempests. "What are you 
doing?!"
	She smiled despite all the emotions churning within her heart. 
So slow to discover family, so quick to discover that no other words 
could be said. But he deserved another chance at a life denied to 
him. "Sayonara, onii-san."
	Princess Serenity closed her eyes, bracing herself. She could 
feel the full power of the eternal moon channeling into her body. 
High overhead, beyond the castle and beyond its windows, the 
crescent moon in the midnight sky shone and became a full moon, 
brilliant and white. The shadows were driven back as its sparkling 
light erupted across the heavens.
	The Empress' palace shuddered violently as it was violated by 
this Earthworld magik. The borders of the dark kingdom were torn 
apart by the white light as it burst through water and dirt and 
trees. Pillars of light shot into the sky, converging upon the full 
moon high overhead.
	The seal was being laid.
	She winced as a numbing pain started to flow through her body; 
she was losing strength. Every last drop of magik within her was 
being sucked out and gathered within the Silver Crystal. Alone like 
this, she knew the final outcome. She would die, and the others 
would be saved.
	It was a sacrifice she was willing to make.
	For her family. For her friends.
	For her love.
	The Empress looked up to the midnight sky that was now burning 
as bright as noonday. "So beautiful," she whispered, entranced by 
this sight. "And yet it saddens me to know that you will not live to 
see this, my child."
	The Shadowqueen's blak magik exploded from the woman's body, 
sweeping across the throne room. She cried out as the force smashed 
against her body, yet she clung to the Silver Crystal. The seal was 
not completed. She could not let it end like this.
	Yet her energy was waning.
	If the Empress continued to attack her like this--
	Her crystal blue eyes widened as with a horrific sound, the 
crystal in her hands cracked, a jagged streak shearing down its 
side. She let out a strangled cry as she fought to keep her magik 
alive; everything was starting to grow distant. She was dying.
	And then with a loud shout the Wanderer pushed the blade of 
his Stormsword into the ground. A ring of crystals appeared around 
his body, each one glowing to reveal a Dreamworld rune painted in 
black. Seven seals, seven magiks, seven furies: all were his.
	"Iie," he said, his voice lost within the howls of raging 
magiks and trembling earth. "The crystal won't crack, Usagi-chan. I 
refuse to let it end like this. As long as I can remember, I have 
been a lone warrior existing to preserve life. Let me do this now. 
Let me protect you."
	His own powers were summoned in between the two warring 
magiks, the runes of the Dreamworld turning from black to crimson. 
Beams of scarlet light shot out from the crystals, forming a chain 
that encircled him within. And upon the cobblestone floor a new rune 
flickered into being.
	It was the mark of the lost souls.
	Across the throne room, she could feel the last of her 
strength giving way as another crack caused the Silver Crystal to 
send her body a wave of agonizing pain. She was slipping away; 
the Shadowqueen was too powerful for her to seal off.
	Suddenly the power of the Silver Crystal shifted hosts, the 
pain leaving her body as the crystal's full force of magik smashed 
into the Wanderer's back. The rune of the lost soul pulled even more 
of the Silver Crystal's magik into his body.
	She was still harnessing it's power to activate the seal, but 
now he had become the one to finish it. "Someone who's found true 
love deserves a better fate than this," he whispered. "Live to dream 
once more with your prince, Usagi. My essence shall absorb the shock 
when the crystal finally shatters."
	Arms outstretched to the glowing heavens, he pushed back the 
incredible pain as the bright power of the Silver Crystal was pulled 
into his body. The Arashi exploded, the blade shattering with a 
column of furious sparks. 
	The seven crystal illusions bearing the Dreamworld runes were 
blown apart in showers of sparks and glass shards that soared all 
around him. Beneath the Wanderer's feet, the rune of the lost soul 
was flashing violently as the ground broke apart and collapsed.
	The Empress' castle beyond the Sea of Night was now being 
swallowed up by the light of day. The full moon overhead blended 
with the light of the heavens. It was time to place the seal upon 
this kingdom.
	He smiled, closing his eyes in that final moment.
	And she heard his voice one last time before it was lost 
within the raging magik. "I won't disappoint, Usagi-chan. 
Sayonara...."
	With an explosive flash the Silver Crystal's power erupted. A 
surge of magik unlike any other witnessed climaxed, tearing through 
the Empress' castle and echoing across the entire Dreamworld. The 
entire foundation of the realm shook violently.
	And then control over the crystal's rampaging magik was lost. 
She gasped as there was a cold chill that swept through the halls of 
the castle beyond the Sea of Night. There was the sound of a 
gemstone shattering, and then all was swallowed up by a veil of 
darkness that fell across the entire room. Only a faint echo of 
glass shards striking cobblestone was heard, it too dying into 
silence.
	Light was reborn, the candles and glowing aura of the throne 
room sparking back to life. She could see once more, and yet some 
things unable to see.
	He was gone.
	"Karasu?" she whispered, collapsing to her knees as exhaustion 
washed over her.
	Suddenly light flashed off the Arashi as it spun into the 
floor, the broken blade sinking into the cobblestones. The weapon 
grew very still without its master.
	"My child...."
	She gasped, recoiling.
	The Shadowqueen stood there before her, alive. Though now from 
an unseen wound blood was trickling in small rivers down the side of 
the woman's face, dripping onto the floor.
	With a laugh the Empress trailed a finger through the blood, 
and then licked the finger clean. "You managed to cut me, Usagi-
chan," the Queen remarked. "I am impressed."
	She trembled, looking around for another hope. The Wanderer 
was gone, her own magik exhausted. Yet the Shadowqueen seemed to 
have merely been slowed down by their efforts to seal this place 
away.
	Had they failed?
	Had the Wanderer sacrificed himself for nothing?
	And then came the sound amidst the sweeping winds in the 
aftermath of magik. Something was bouncing across the cobblestone, a 
distinct sound made every time it struck stone, as if glass was 
being tapped.
	She turned, watching in silence as a single crystal orb 
entered the throne room. 
	"Illusion?" the Empress wondered aloud.
	But she was oblivious to the Shadowqueen, looking at the 
solitary crystal as it bounced across the cobblestone and into her 
outstretched palms.
	One final wish.
	One last illusion.
	She closed her eyes, bringing the sphere close to her body and 
finding one last memory of the Wanderer, her brother. A tear forged 
its way down her pale cheek, pausing at her chin before falling onto 
the crystal.
	And then magik exploded from the crystal, the orb disappearing 
in a pillar of light, floating up and sparkling. This pillar of 
light punctured the barrier of darkness enclosing the kingdom beyond 
the Sea of Night, sending up a beam that all could see from across 
the vast kingdoms of the Dreamworld.
	Even with her eyes closed, clutching the crystal to her heart, 
she could witness everything. She saw identical pillars of light 
arise from all corners and kingdoms of this realm, some numerous in 
one domain and some but a single one. Shadow kingdoms were even 
caught beneath the rays of this sparkling pale glow. Within each 
shaft a crystal hovered into the air, sparkling like a midnight 
star.
	And somewhere out there, kept within a crystal Citadel, the 
Golden Crystal of the DreamMaster erupted into a beam of tremendous 
light, sending out a cascade of sparks as numerous as the stars in 
the midnight sky. These sparks flew and then fell like gentle rain 
upon all the kingdoms within the boundaries of the Dreamworld. Not a 
single one was left untouched.
	She was lost in the warmth of this pale light, her heart 
burning up inside her chest. And then she became lost in the sounds 
of another life.


	Crying.
	It was the sound of crying, of new life entering the world.
	"It's a boy," the midwife said. "A beautiful boy."
	The baby child was brought to his mother, a Queen bearing the 
mark of a crescent moon upon her forehead. She cradled the child in 
her arms, staring down at him with all the love a mother could give.
	Laying together beneath white silken sheets on a bed adorned 
with the pattern of roses, mother and son stared at each other for 
the first time. Pale blue eyes were wide in looking up at her as he 
squirmed around in her arms.
	"Such a cute little boy," she sighed, smiling through the 
exhaustion of labour. "And very energetic. But now he needs a name. 
What should we call such a precious soul?"
	She looked up at a tall woman whose real age could only be 
glimpsed through magenta eyes. An ancient warrior of Pluto, the time 
guardress was on hand to witness the birth of the first and last 
Silver Moon Prince.
	The time guardress smiled, fingers gently tracing the baby's 
cheeks. "How about Karasu?"
	The Queen looked down at the lively child in her arms. 
"Karasu? Karasu...that's a beautiful name, Setsuna. What made you 
think of that?"
	The time guardress glanced at the stars in the nearby window. 
"A future memory, my Queen."
	The Queen kissed the baby's forehead. "Karasu, my son...."


	Time moved quickly with memories as years and events were 
passed over simply because they were taken for granted. First words, 
first steps, first signs of magik: as the watching ghost, the 
odango-haired blonde missed all of that.
	Time had indeed moved quickly.
	He was a seven year-old boy now, shining blond hair dangling 
around his shoulders and wildly flowing around his head. Still 
appearing somewhat girlish, he had yet to gain the broader 
shoulders, slender face and more defined chest that he bore as the 
Wanderer.
	This was a moment in time where he returned to a familiar bed 
with white silken sheets, adorned with the pattern of roses.
	"Karasu-chan," the Queen said, gently cradling a little girl 
in her arms. "You're a brother now."
	He stared down at the tiny child, tilting his head as the 
newborn baby slept soundly in her mother's embrace. A trembling, 
excited hand reached out to stroke the princess' forehead.
	"Can I hold her?" he asked.
	The Queen shook her head. "Not yet, but very soon." She gently 
roused the baby. "Serenity, look; you have a visitor."
	Tiny but wide eyes opened up to stare at the small giant. 
Crystal blue eyes to match his looked up with wonder and innocence. 
The baby girl then smiled, giggling.
	"Ah!" he exclaimed. "Kawaii!" He held out his index finger, 
the princess' tiny hand tightly wrapping around it. "Good grip," he 
remarked.
	The Queen smiled as the two siblings learned how to play with 
each other. "My little child, Serenity," she whispered. "I can feel 
the magik within you....."

	
	The young boy had become ten: a little taller, a little wiser.
	His sister was now three, and learning how to be innocent with 
imagination and laughter--though not above playing pranks and 
throwing a few crying fits. And on those occasions where her 
emotions got the better of her, the crescent moon upon her forehead 
exploded in magik, unleashing a pillar of light that could be seen 
by all close to the royal palace.
	Many times afterwards the princess would exhaust herself and 
simply lay down wherever she was for a nap--much to the relief of 
those in the palace after receiving such a scare.
	"She can be so loud sometimes," he remarked, walking with his 
mother as she carried the little girl. "Does she always do that 
funny lightening thing when she gets upset?"
	His mother nodded. "It can be quite stressful at times, but 
thankfully she's starting to grow out of it."
	They reached the princess' room, where the Queen laid the 
little girl down upon the large bed. The child smiled in her sleep, 
curling up around the pillows. Their mother smiled quietly in 
watching the princess dream.
	"What power is that?" he asked, sitting himself down next to 
his mother at the edge of the bed. "I don't ever remember creating 
light like that when I cried."
	The Queen brushed some of his blonde bangs away from his face. 
"It is the magik of the Eternal Moon, Karasu. A power that flows in 
my body, and the body of little Serenity. It is one of the oldest 
magiks known to our world, one that helps us keep this solar system 
so peaceful."
	"Can I have that power too, mommy?" the boy asked.
	His mother shook her head. "Gomen ne, Karasu, but the magik of 
the Eternal Moon is only passed on through the generations by the 
blood of the females in our family."
	For a moment jealousy appeared in his blue eyes as he shot a 
dirty look at the sleeping child. "Then what does that make me?" the 
boy asked.
	The Queen smiled. "A warrior. One who will fight and protect 
the princess, your little sister. You have a unique brand of magik 
within yourself, Karasu. All you need to do now is discover what 
that magik is."
	The boy looked back down at the young princess and smiled. "A 
warrior," he said, nodding in approval. 


	"What is the Dreamworld?" the young boy asked one night, 
staring out his mother's chamber window. Few might have guessed he 
was indeed twelve by his form.
	The Queen turned, giving her son a curious expression. "Where 
did you hear of that place? It is not among the books in our 
archives."
	He continued to look out at the sparkling courtyards with 
their fountains, and beyond them the waves of the Sea of Serenity. 
"An angel whispered it to me last night when I was dreaming," he 
answered, opening up his palm. A draft swept through the chambers, 
carrying into the air raven's down and feathers.
	His mother watched the feathers dance in the air. "You have 
indeed been to the Dreamworld," she said. "That is a realm with its 
own magik, existing where there are dreamers. The beauty inside its 
kingdoms far surpass any here in our world."
	"I want to see it again," he said, convinced himself now 
trying to convince her. "I'm going to see it right now."
	"Don't be so impatient, Karasu," his mother chided. "The magik 
calls out to the dreamers and not the other way around. You must 
first sleep before seeing that realm again."
	Reluctantly he backed down, compliant to his mother's wishes. 
Years of etiquette were very soon to be replaced with training of a 
different nature. This was the last night he would spend with his 
family in the royal palace for a long time.
	With the passing of another dream, he would journey to a place 
hidden on the dark side of the moon. There the warrior would take 
form through magik and illusion. And even though he was afraid to 
leave the safety of a palace he had grown up within all his life, 
there was an excitement that could barely restrain him from leaving 
that very minute.
	This was his chance to prove himself. But how could he when a 
whole other realm far surpassed in an hour anything he could even 
hope to achieve in ten lifetimes?
	"What does it all mean?" he asked. "What is this world beyond 
ours?"
	"It is but one of many realms seeking the peace we have worked 
hard to achieve," the Queen answered. "Karasu, do not pursue it's 
magik any further. The powers of the Dreamworld do not bend for 
anyone, not even me. If you let the magik come to you, then your 
dreams will be all the more beautiful."
	But he did not truly understand. Nor would he ever grasp the 
Queen's words until the line drawn by different breeds of magik was 
crossed.


	It was upon the aquatic planet of Mercury that mother and son 
met once again. Time moved swiftly here through memories lost and 
forgotten, with it passing by five years. A royal ball was soon to 
begin, the nobles of every planet assembling together to celebrate.
	The Queen of the Silver Moon glanced back as she heard a 
familiar voice whisper through the winds in the corridor.
	"Mother...."
	She looked from one end to the next, making certain she was 
alone and not someone playing a trick upon her. Yet there was no one 
else--or was there?
	Then appeared the illusionist.
	"Mother," he said, appearing from behind a wall of 
invisibility, dressed in flowing robes that reflected a starless 
night. "I have returned."
	For the single beating of her heart she stood there, surprised 
to see her son standing before her. And then she embraced him, 
warmly kissing his cheek in greeting.
	"Look at you," the Queen said, beaming with pride. "You've 
grown up, Karasu. No longer the little prince but a handsome young 
warrior."
	"More than just becoming a cute guy," he added. "I've become a 
master of illusion."
	She smiled. "I heard. The sensei was most pleased that you 
mastered your magik in such a short time. But are you that willing 
to relinquish your royal name?"
	Kageno Karasu.
	No longer of the moonlight, but of the shadows.
	He glanced out through one of the windows at the moonlit 
night. "Please don't be insulted, but I think it's better this way. 
After all the training I've gone through, I don't think I could 
handle attending court and playing nobleman."
	A mischievous smile crossed his face as they began to walk 
down the corridor. "Or is little Serenity giving you so much trouble 
that you need my help?"
	"Daijobu," she reassured him. "The princess will one day make 
a fine queen of the Silver Moon. I just hope you're there to keep 
her out of trouble."
	"Does the princess know I'm here?" he asked, glancing down the 
hallway. "This place is a maze; worse than those ruins on the moon 
of Deimos."
	The Queen shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Because of your 
training, we've never known where or when you might appear. But I 
think she would be thrilled to see her big brother again."
	"How is she?" he inquired.
	"She's ten and full of energy," his mother answered. "You 
should have seen her act up at the royal ball with a few of her 
princess friends last year. They set off the balloons an hour before 
we were to drop them in the ballroom."
	He stifled a laugh. "Hai hai, that sounds like little 
Serenity. I hope you weren't too harsh on them."
	She smiled. "After the stunt you pulled when you were her age? 
No, compared to what you did at the Venus formal dance, this is 
nothing to get excited about."
	"Please don't remind me about the Venus formal dance," he 
said, wincing. "I'm still trying to live that down even with my 
sensei."
	They glanced down the corridor as a chorus of giggles echoed 
across the way. Five young children raced through one of the 
intersecting hallways, led by a young princess with blonde, odango-
style hair, two tails fluttering out behind her.
	For a moment he and the Queen simply stared down the corridor, 
listening to the childrens' laughter slowly fade away.
	"A lively little kid," he remarked. "She's got my eyes...and 
my hair. But now whenever I see her, I'll be thinking 'odango-
atama'."
	The Queen chuckled. "Don't be so mean to her, Karasu."
	They continued to walk down the corridor, stopping as they 
reach the large archways that opened into the enormous ballroom. In 
another world, in another dream, a masquerade wraith had one night 
fashioned his own kingdom after such a palace.
	"Will you be attending the masquerade tonight?" she asked.
	He nodded. "I just have one last thing I need to take care of, 
and then I'll be back for certain. I promise you, Mother."
	How little did either one suspect that this was the last time 
they would ever see each other again. On that fateful night, the 
Wanderer would be born between worlds.


	He knelt down in the centre of a circle inside the four 
pillars of the elemental magiks, each at one of four corners of the 
chambers. Earth, Air, Water, Fire: their magik was laced together in 
forging the illusions he called forth.
	There was an outer ring to the circle, each one divided up to 
house a rune of each individual planet. Directly in front of him was 
Earth's rune. Directly beneath him was the rune of the Silver Moon.
	He jabbed the Arashi into the floor, the blade sinking into 
the middle of Earth's rune. The glowing Eye of the sword caught the 
light of the hundred candles lining the walls and floor.
	Closing his eyes he summoned the magik of illusion locked 
within his body. A spinning mandala of crystal orbs appeared, each 
one branded with a rune of the ancient Earthworld. Ancient magik 
learned not so long ago; he had become a master to do exactly what 
he was performing now. 
	For all those years of training, he had never forgotten that 
one silent promise he had made to himself as a child. The furies of 
the storm were in his blood, but could do nothing to open a gateway. 
No, for this he needed the art of illusion.
	"Summon magik!" he commanded, opening his eyes.
	A ripple of air cascaded through the room, striking him with 
surprising force. Dimensions became warped and hazy as magik flowed 
into the chambers. 
	He could barely suppress his excitement. "It's opening," he 
said. The gateway was revealing itself to him by his command.
	Strange ghosts seemed to emerge from a tidal wave of billowing 
grey myst that crawled over the floor. The mandala of illusions 
flickered, the runes of ancient Earth starting to bleed nightfall on 
the spheres.
	His crystal blue eyes narrowed in hard concentration as he 
felt something surge against his own power. Something was trying to 
break out, to escape. He pushed out his arms as if he was pushing 
the very air back.
	"Come on," he hissed. "Damn you, hold together for me!"
	And then he lost control.
	Dread seized his body as a cold tempest flooded into the 
chambers, the loose folds of his dark robes dancing in the gales. 
The candlelight erupted, now a deep blue and brilliant white. His 
mandala of illusions exploded, the crystals shooting off in every 
direction and shattering as they struck the walls. A storm of 
glittering blue sparks rained down from everywhere. 
	"Kon chikusho," he muttered darkly, shielding his face.
	A cloud of myst rose up and attacked, swarming around his body 
with cloudy tendrils. It tried to enter every orifice in his face, 
causing him to gag and gasp as he felt it seep into his body like a 
plague. 
	He made a strangled shout, stumbling backwards into the mysts 
as he fought to reach the doors of his chambers. Then of their own 
accord and not illusion, the double doors creaked to make a narrow 
opening.
	The princess of the Eternal Moon emerged. "Karasu-oniisan!" 
the little girl exclaimed, waving to him before seeing what laid 
within the walls of his chambers.
	His eyes widened in horror as the child stepped into the room, 
her growing curls of blonde hair dangling just beyond her waist. 
	"Serenity!" he shouted. "Get away from here! Run!"
	He was already beginning to feel the mysts take effect, 
dragging his body further beneath the floor of billowing cloud.
	The princess screamed, frightened by what she saw. Yet she was 
unable to turn and run, frozen in terror as the mysts began to creep 
towards her to lay claim on a second soul.
	"KUSO!" he howled, unleashing a single crystal before the 
mysts ensnared his arms. 
	The little princess watched the orb bounce across the floor, 
slamming itself into her chest. A split second later she 
disappeared, lost in a flash of light. The crystal continued 
bouncing out between the large double doors, rolling to the safety 
of another corridor.
	That left him behind to defend himself against a magik that 
understood nothing but the swinging of the portals between realms. 
Relentlessly it filtered into his lungs, spreading throughout his 
body.
	"Sh...shimatta," he hissed, fighting to keep his eyes open. 
	The mysts swarmed around his body, blanketing him in a cloud 
of forgetfulness. His fists clenched the edges of his dark robes, 
spasmed and finally relaxed.
	He collapsed onto the floor, his body growing still but not 
cold. No one could have heard his last protest, his final struggle. 
Alone, he left the world he once knew and discovered the deadly 
secrets of the lost souls.
	Somewhere out beyond, in a realm known only as the Dreamworld, 
the Wanderer awoke....
	

	She blinked, the memories of a brother unknown slipping away 
into the back of her mind. Now she was within a throne room with the 
Shadowqueen standing before her.
	"Karasu," she said quietly, treasuring those glimpses into the 
past.
	"A noble spirit to the end," the Empress said. "A soul like 
his did not deserve this fate. Such a pity."
	She shook her head. "Iie, I'm proud of him. He proved to have 
that which you are doomed to never possess: a heart." Slowly she 
rose to her feet, facing the Shadowqueen. "I will leave your palace 
now, and I am taking Mamo-chan with me."
	The Shadowqueen let out a wave of surprised laughter. 
"Amusing, child," the Empress chuckled. "Surrender to me. There is 
no one left to protect you, not even yourself."
	"I would have to disagree," stated a new voice.
	Her eyes widened in recognition of a voice not heard in a long 
time, even though the memories were as vivid as if she had lived 
them only a day ago. These were words spoken by the DreamMaster.
	Then he appeared, a golden horn appearing atop the 
DreamMaster's head as magik from a golden crystal was summoned. He 
placed himself between her and the Empress.
	"Helios," the Shadowqueen said with a scowl. "How kind of you 
to grace us with your...presence. I see the Wanderer's final burst 
of power allowed you to penetrate my barrier."
	The DreamMaster nodded. "And I am grateful to him for that. 
But I have come to take them back to the beautiful dreams they were 
dancing in before you stole them away."
	With a chuckle, the Empress sauntered up the steps. "And what 
would make you think I'd want to give up such cute little children, 
Helios?"
	"They have already suffered enough," the DreamMaster stated. 
"Let them both go, Empress. This is a battle none of us have won. 
But if you refuse, I will attack."
	The Shadowqueen nodded, bowing slightly to the DreamMaster. 
"So be it, Helios. Even in the enemy's kingdom our magiks rival one 
another. I can tell when a stalemate has been reached--but rest 
assured this does not mark the end. I have always returned in the 
past, and am not about to stop the game now."
	The Empress glanced over at her. "The prince and princess are 
yours to take home, Helios. Though I will not guarantee they are 
yours to keep." The Shadowqueen sat back onto the throne. "Come 
forth, Prince Endymion!"
	The dark-haired prince appeared, his body slowly being lowered 
before her. His hair was soaked with sweat and clinging to his skin, 
his expression tensed up as if he was fighting a nightmare. As he 
settled onto the floor, his expression changed to that of serenity, 
and his deep blue eyes opened to see her. 
	"Mamo-chan!" she cried out, embracing him.
	"Usa-ko," he said weakly "Gomen...."
	She smiled, gently kissing him on the forehead. "Daijobu, 
Mamo-chan. Close your eyes and sleep; I'll be here when you wake 
up."
	His fingers stroked her cheek. "I had a dream about you," he 
whispered. "The most beautiful dream I have ever seen." He brought 
her face closer to his, and together they kissed.
	It startled her to discover she was crying again.
	But the beating of her heart could not be stopped, and she 
wrapped her arms around her prince tighter than before. He was 
sleeping again, a content and peaceful expression across his face.
	"Usa-ko," his voice whispered in the winds.
	"Now give us back the lesser dragon named Suna," Helios said 
to the Shadowqueen. 
	"I'm afraid the dragon is mine to claim," the Empress stated. 
"You won your own freedom, child, and I was gracious enough to let 
this handsome prince return to you. But as Helios said, none of us 
have won this battle."
	The battered body of the fallen serpynt had all but vanished 
in that last fight, but was far from being considered dead. A small 
creature appeared next to the Shadowqueen, it's body resembling that 
of a lesser dragon, but now with rougher hide and adorned with rows 
of spikes down its back, legs and tail. And those eyes: once so 
bright and playful, they now held a dark and alluring malevolence of 
black pearl.
	The dragon alighted the Queen's shoulder, purring contentedly 
as the woman scratched beneath its chin. "Yes, Suna-chan. You belong 
to your Empress now."
	She tried to close out the sweet laughter of the Empress, 
remembering how brave the dragon had been to help her survive in 
this Shadow kingdom.
	"I'm sorry, Usagi," the DreamMaster said quietly. "There is 
nothing more we can do. Unless she releases him, Suna-chan is now a 
servant to the Shadowdemons."
	Reluctantly, she nodded.
	But there would come another time. She would not let this go, 
and she knew that neither would the raven knight upon learning of 
this dark twist of fate.
	The Shadowqueen smiled. "Do you think I would let the game 
simply end, child? It goes on forever, just as it always has in the 
past."
	And with one final gesture, the Empress worked one last 
incantation of magik, sending the DreamMaster and the two dreamers 
back into Illusion. 
	As the twinkling lights surrounded them, she held her prince 
tightly in her arms, watching the storybook castle disappear. Before 
all was lost from her sight, she saw with crystal blue eyes the 
Arashi lodged in the cobblestone floor.
	"Arigato, Karasu," she whispered. "Thank you for believing in 
me...."


	The days of school had begun again once more, the celebration 
of the new year come and gone. A January sun was warming the city of 
Tokyo as somewhere a high school's chimes sounded for lunch. With 
the weather still quite cold, students were finding a place to eat 
together inside, in their clusters and groups.
	And from a distance, almost seen yet almost not seen, three 
souls watched at the corner of one of the school's hallways. One was 
a female guardian of space and time, her true age as unknown as that 
of the raven angels. In her hand was held a key-shaped staff capable 
of waking the dead with a silent scream. Magenta eyes stared down at 
the students milling about.
	"What do you think?" she inquired.
	Another beside her was a young man with misty eyes and white 
flowing hair. At times a golden horn would appear atop his head if 
magik was to be summoned. He was the one with the powers of the 
DreamMaster, the ultimate guardian of humanity's dreams. 
	He held hands with the third of group, a blossoming young girl 
perhaps fourteen or perhaps far older than she appeared. The teenage 
girl had thick, soft hair tinted pink in the sunlight, the hairstyle 
shaped almost like that of a rabbit's ears.
	"This will set our plans back," the DreamMaster admitted. 
"Without his past memories, any magik he once held is now buried 
deep down inside his mind. I cannot travel to the future with him in 
this state."
	The time guardress nodded. "I would have to agree. But for now 
we should let him be; it's been a long time since he ever had a 
chance to lead a normal life. In the meantime, Small Lady can remain 
here in this century."
	"I don't have a problem with that!" the Tsukino child piped 
up. "So long as you stay here, Helios."
	The DreamMaster laughed, kissing the girl's hand. "Ara, 
Chibiusa-chan. I guess with you here I have no other choice."
	The time guardress nodded towards a group of gathering 
students. "It is almost time for the final illusion to take hold."
	And so they watched, and waited.

	
	At one time they had been a well-known and diverse group of 
four girls at the high school, each one with different talents and 
interests, yet all sharing one friendship. But now there were 
newcomers to the group: strangers who were not all they completely 
appeared to be.
	From other realms and other dreams they had crossed over to be 
with their soulmates, finding love in the arms of the girls they had 
fought to protect--and finding protection themselves in those same 
arms.
	She smiled as she listened to all her friends talk with each 
other about the morning. They were not all in the same homeroom 
classes, thus having different experiences to share and laments to 
make. Right now they were finding a place to settle down together.
	Her long and blonde, odango-style hair fluttered behind her as 
she toted her bento box with her. On most other days she would have 
been already devouring the box' contents, but on this morning she 
was pensive, smiling at the memory a dream the night before.
	"Have you heard?" the long-haired blonde whispered excitedly. 
"There's a new transfer student in one of the higher grades. And 
he's supposed to be really really cute too!"
	"And just what does that make me? The spare boyfriend?" the 
raven knight said, poking the long-haired blonde in the side.
	"You know what they say!" the long-haired blonde answered. 
"Two's company, and the third get stuck with the bill!"
	The raven knight groaned and rubbed his temples. "Yare yare."
	"That's 'two's company, three's a crowd', Minako-chan," the 
blue-haired genius sighed.
	"I wouldn't mind seeing him," the tall brunette agreed. "From 
all the gossip reports, he's almost cute enough to rival my Sora-
chan."
	"Hopefully not cute enough to replace me," Sora answered 
uneasily, glancing down at the tall brunette's engagement ring.
	The masquerade wraith sighed, draping an arm over Sora's 
shoulder. "Sora, you have got to lighten up a little. Don't take 
things so personally. I swear if it wasn't for your magik you'd have 
an ulcer by now." Turning to the blue-haired genius, the wraith 
added with a playful wink, "Ami-chan, that reminds me: tonight we 
feature our chess rematch. I trust you'll dress for the occasion?"
	The blue-haired genius blushed. "H-hai," the genius stammered.
	"Ah, Ami-chan!" the long-haired blonde teased. "You're 
blushing again!"
	"Oh...am I?" the blue-haired genius asked shyly. For all that 
the young lady had opened up to about romance, there were still many 
things Meikyu knew to say that would make the blue-haired genius 
blush.
	She laughed quietly at that.
	"Usagi-chan?" the tall brunette asked. "Daijobu?"
	She looked up at her friends. "Hmm?" One step without looking 
later found her face painfully meeting with an open door. She 
collapsed onto the floor, dazed as she landed on her butt.
	"Hai, she's perfectly fine," Sora said, sighing.
	"You're such a clutz, Usagi-chan," the tall brunette said, 
helping her up. "On the bright side, you found a place for us to 
eat."
	They all laughed together, settling down at a cluster of desks 
and opening their lunches. She discovered how hungry she was upon 
smelling the aroma of fresh food with the lifting her bento box lid.
	"Ah!" she exclaimed, waving her chopsticks in the air and 
deciding where to strike first. "Itadakimasu!"
	The three guardian angels stared at her as she proceeded to 
attack her meal, moving at an almost blinding pace.
	"Has there ever been a day she doesn't eat like that?" the 
raven knight asked.
	The blue-haired genius sighed. "Not that any of us have known 
of."
	Meikyu glanced over to one of the open sliding windows that 
gazed into the hallways, contentedly chewing on his own meal after 
making sure it was a safe distance from her killer chopsticks and 
ravenous mouth. The wraith's jade green eyes caught sight of someone 
approaching, someone new to them all at this school.
	"Now who is that?" the masquerade wraith asked.
	"Let me see! Let me see!" the long-haired blonde exclaimed, 
leaping up and using the wraith's head to push off her seat. 
Meikyu's hands twitched slightly, his face slammed into the desktop.
	The raven angel winced. "Now that must have hurt."
	"Is it the new transfer student?" the tall brunette asked, 
straightening up to see past the others.	
	She managed to lift her own face from her bento box, chewing 
the last mouthful of rice she could fit in her mouth. "Where?"
	And then there he was, strolling towards them in a brisk but 
unhurried pace, oblivious or ignoring a growing row of girls lurking 
somewhere behind him.
	The young man's face was hidden by the streams of sunlight 
pouring down from the blue skies in the hall windows behind him. 
Then he slowly stepped into the room, his features growing more 
distinct with each step as he crossed through the doorway.
	At first there was something strangely familiar in the way he 
wore an outfit unique from the regulated uniforms here at Jyuban 
High School. A black suit jacket and pants over a billowing white 
dress shirt, and a thin black tie slightly loosened around his neck, 
the ends of each article fluttering as he moved. 
	Where had she seen that before?
	He caught the partial shadows of the room, his face now 
revealed as bangs of shining blonde hair danced over his forehead in 
the wind, even longer strands in the back fluttering around his 
shoulders.
	And then she realized who he was. She froze, unable to speak 
or even think of anything to say. The bento box in her hands slipped 
out from her grip, rice spilling onto the desktop.
	"Ma...masaka," the long-haired blonde exclaimed.
	The young man leaned forward, giving a small but playful bow 
to them all. "Hajimimashute," he said with a smile, sliding a pair 
of shades down from his face to reveal shimmering, crystal blue 
eyes. "Allow me to introduce myself. The name's Karasu. Kageno 
Karasu."



	AND THIS IS MERELY THE BEGINNING....




	Final Thanks:

	-To Naoko Takeuchi. It was her characters and her world in 	 
	 which these tales are based on. I can only hope that if 	 
	 ever you somehow come upon reading these stories, you are 	 
	 indeed pleased with the realms that lie within.

	-To his lordship Mayhem, who challenged me with his own 	 
 	 writings to create such a place as the Dreamworld. And then 	
 	 who made certain I did not stray when I wrote of Ami and 	 
	 her masquerade wraith. Without your inspiration these 	 
	 tales would have never found life.

	-To Tim Nolan, who proved to me through his "Anniversary" 	 
	 series that the erotic and romantic could indeed be done. 	 
	 Rarely has any other series captivated me so much in both 	 
	 its style and its story.

	-To Li'l Pestilence aka Pesti-chan, who graciously supported 	 
	 me in not just my writings from the beginning. Your work
	 and admiration has not gone unnoticed, my friend.

	-To NeoHaruka, who insisted that I continue this series even 	 
	 as I reached the final tales. I can only hope to one day 	 
	 repay all your kind words and criticisms. May you find 	 
	 yourself dancing in a dream all your own tonight.

	-And to all the others out there who've let me know that in
	 these tales, I have been doing something right. You know
	 who you are, and I thank you all for your kind words and
	 support. Perhaps one day you will discover the name of the
	 raven angel who watches over your dreams every night....


=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 8th Night: The Tale of Milady Selena
Rated R


	  Haven:(n) 2. A place of safety; shelter; asylum

				-Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary


	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be brought to
life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for
others to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a
thousand dreamers and their dreams. And with it, a sanctuary no so far
from us where last earth magiks reside. Within every soul lies a story
to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. They
belong in her embrace. But the keeper of Milady Selena, and the
Sanctuary he remains hidden within belong to another, and they are of
my skin and soul. I embrace his galleries and his secrets as my own
children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their creators.
The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong to Naoko
Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a part of her
stories. But the realm of the last magiks of earth is a part of my own
story. Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles beyond the
moon, and my DreamSeer belongs with the woman he has stood vigil over
for centuries.
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for your
requests if you wish for my characters to wander other worlds and other
stories.

		-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)
			http://neoharuka.interspeed.net/tales-dw.html


	When the rose is faded,
	  Memory may still dwell on
	Her beauty shadowed,
	  And the sweet smell gone.

	That vanishing loveliness,
	  That burdening breath
	No bond of life hath then
	  Nor grief in death.

	'Tis the immortal thought
	  Whose passion still
	Makes of the unchanging
	  The changeable.

	Oh, thus thy beauty,
	  Loveliest on earth to me,
	Dark with no sorrow, shines
	  And burns, with Thee.

				-Walter de la Mare, "When The Rose Is Dead"


	On the eve of December 25th my wandering soul was put to rest. To
preserve the Dreamworld, to protect the Moon Princess and her friends,
I sacrificed myself in the hopes of destroying the incarnation of all
nightmares that was the Shadowqueen. The Shadowqueen was not destroyed,
but the Eternal Moon Princess and her beloved escaped none the less.
	Yet in committing myself to the last attack, I bared the full
lethal power of the Silver Crystal, lowering my illusionary defences
and ending my "life". I lost the mark of the ghost, of a lost soul
perhaps blessed or perhaps cursed to forever exist in between two
worlds. I thought my wanderings had ended in that last moment.
	I was wrong.
	Like a legendary Phoenix I was resurrected yet never having died,
my soul reborn through a single tear and a legion of illusions. All
memories of a millennium of wanderings as royal prince and master of
illusion were taken away and hidden to give me a chance at life as an
Earthchild.
	But like all things buried deep, memories must one day come back
to the surface, to haunt who we think we are. The ghosts of the past
are coming back. And it will change the course of all our futures. It
is time for me to once again face who I am, and then face who I think I
am.
	Nothing is as it seems in the realms of magik. And I appear to be
no exception.
	My name is Kageno Karasu.
	I have a story to tell you....


	THE TALE OF MILADY SELENA


	The Gallery was vast in its expanse, a central area in a sunken
floor with black marble tiling. There were two stairs leading up to the
high corridors that ran on every side of the Gallery, separated from
the corridors by a series of arches that curved overtop the stairs.
These corridors, walls adorned with scattered paintings, led deeper
into the labyrinth of other minor galleries.
	In those other galleries laid precious pieces that over centuries
had been amassed into this collection. Somewhere there was a living
wyvern who would only come alive from its jade design when touched by
the moon's rays. Somewhere there was a living chess board where royalty
and military breathed strategic war. Somewhere there was a portrait of
a silver castle atop the cliffs of a beautiful ocean shore, whose
pathways could be walked if one knew how to properly step into the
frame.
	But those belonged to the lesser galleries.
	All that mattered to him was the Gallery itself, the central
piece which had first captured his soul and thus sealed his fate. They
all were the last living artefacts of magik left in the world. Not mere
magic wielded by age old sorcerers and witches upon hapless maidens and
daring knights. No, this was magik: the essence of the Faery world now
sealed beneath the aged leather-bound books.
	When he was given the crystal phantasm in the aftermath, this all
had begun: the ancient sensei handing the orb to him with a single
warning. "You must find the Faery magik," the ancient wiseman had
whispered. "Use the crystal to locate other legends and then find a
sanctuary for them. Only then can you both be free. Forsake my words
and my illusion, and her curse will remain eternal."
	And so he had obeyed.
	It was never a question of following the crystal. The Faery magik
was of instinct to him, for even as a child he knew there was a
possession of a strange power in his soul. Upon the palm of his left
hand he bore a marking, a rune that blazed crimson red when the
borrowed magik manifested itself.
	And so he had begun his search to find the last remnants of
magik. And when he did not seek out the magik, the magik in turn sought
him out. The Gallery was created, and then expanded to become an
incredible skein of forgotten realms and their lore.
	Somewhere out there was an open courtyard where the last unicorn
roamed untamed. Somewhere out there laid the legendary sword Excalibur
of King Arthur. And somewhere out there water nymphs frolicked in the
enormous fountains and spouts.
	But for as much as he treasured them all, there was only one that
truly possessed his soul. That was the first magik he ever discovered,
the sole reason he had constructed the Gallery, his purpose for still
existing. He stood there for some time at the base of the stairs,
gazing out at the expanse before him. The arches were still, and the
second floor balcony was dark without a presence for the enchantment to
illuminate the quiet room. High overhead, the domed glass ceiling
revealed the pale white glow of a crescent moon.
	And there in the centre of the Gallery was Milady Selena.
	So flawless in grace and majestic form, she harkened back to a
simplistic purity reminiscent of Rodin's sculpture "The Kiss". Milady
Selena laid there in a coffin of glass, still and unmoving yet not
without life. Tresses of long and flowing silver hair were draped
around her bed of roses.
	She looked so peaceful in that dark and dreamless sleep, like an
angel upon the clouds. So innocent amidst a maturing face; such pale
skin and delicate lips. Yet he had never seen her eyes for over a
thousand years. The memories still there but clouded over by centuries
past, he could only dream about what colour they might be. What would
such an angel hold in her eyes: crystal blue, or perhaps of creamy
jade?
	"Milady," he whispered, his fingers resting upon the glass.
	He was so agonizingly close to her, yet so far with the barrier
of glass sealing her inside for all eternity. No matter how hard he
pounded it would not crack. No matter what incantation he used it would
not shatter. Nothing would release Milady Selena unless the mythus was
fulfilled.
	"Awakened perhaps with a kiss," he said quietly. "I am sorry that
it cannot be me." He removed his hand from the glass, staring up at the
moon and its escort of a thousand stars. "Not now, Milady, but soon. I
am certain he will come for you."
	He withdrew from the woman's glass coffin, walking up the stairs
and beneath an archway. For a long time he simply wandered through the
tangled web of galleries and their magiks. Although invited to play
with the bishops and pawns of chess, he declined. Despite the request
of watching a ghostly jester play with fire and ice, he kept his quiet
pace.
	He walked out into the courtyard, the cool evening breeze rushing
out to meet him as he opened the sliding glass door. Taking a deep
breath he kept to the cobblestone path that led over the bridge and
into the gazebo. A stray glance went down to the clear blue waters of
the flowing stream below the shadow of the bridge.
	There was a young man with ancient violet eyes staring back at
him, one who bore his features of long, chestnut brown hair tied behind
his back. The robes adorning his body were of armour and silk,
reminiscent of a legendary world long since past, a world he would have
loved to preserve had it not been destroyed while his curse had bound
him to remain a spectre.
	"How much longer?" he asked.
	It had already been almost eleven centuries of waiting, gazing at
her from beyond the bed of roses and wishing that he could at least, if
only for a sweet moment, warm her lips with his. With a sorrowful sigh,
one that never failed to escape his breath every night, he continued
down the pathway into the gazebo.
	Out in the distance was the last living unicorn, grazing
peacefully on the grass. The courtyard was itself an enormous gallery
that twisted the dimensions of conventional time and space to allow the
magnificent steed to freely roam at will. Yet inside the gazebo he
could always see it, even if it left the meadows and journeyed into a
forest, or beyond the forests to the ocean shores.
	"So beautiful," he said, leaning against the railing.
	A new magik surged forth, and his smile faded as the aura of
another power began to manifest itself. He did not turn even when he
knew it was directly behind him. Centuries ago he had tired of the
games, and even now was weary of the torment.
	The flames of flickering shadows appeared to reveal a silhouette
within a hooded cloak. Fingers reached out to clutch the end of the
hood and drew it back to reveal nothing. It was a headless body,
grasped in one hand a white mask with painted black marks around the
eyes and lips, strange runes marking the cheeks and forehead. The mask
was mounted on a thin wooden pole.
	Fingers grasping the pole, the body lifted up the mask to the
void where a head would be. Eyeholes blinked. Cheeks rippled. Lips
parted, forming a voice.
	"One more night spent alone in the company of your magik," the
mask chided. "Did the water games of the nymphs not appeal to you? Did
the ancient Cards of Fate lose their allure? Or has the great Mandala
been spun one too many times by your hand?"
	His knuckles tightened around the railing, silently calming
himself. These games had been played before; it was just seeing how far
he could be pushed tonight. Just for tonight. Tomorrow night the game
would begin again as it always had in the distant past.
	The mask smiled. "I find it so disappointing that with all you
are hiding here in the Sanctuary, for centuries on end you cannot break
one simple incantation. Do you really love her? Are you truly honouring
her memory?"
	His violet eyes flashed a glowing red.
	"Urusai!" he snapped, whirling about and opening his palm to the
shadow. The crimson runes exploded to light and life, bathing the
entire gazebo in a scarlet hue. Whatever ripples of magik were sent out
by his aura were indeed sensed by the other magiks in the galleries.
Here in the courtyard, a suddenly agitated unicorn whinnied and reared
up on its hind legs.
	The shadow's cloak and drawn hood dissipated like the very
essence of wind, but the mask still sneered at him. The eyeholes
narrowed. "Give up on her. Your magik means nothing when compared to
mine. And none of your prayers will go answered for as long as you
choose to live."
	With a harsh ring of laughter that echoed in his mind, the mask
smiled in fading to the darkness that it was born of. "Give up the
fight, Morpheus. Surrender all this beautiful magik to me...."
	"Never," he hissed. "I will never deliver such magik into the
hands of evil."
	"Then be content with your maiden to be lost within an eternal
dream," the mask stated, vanishing completely. "Only one soul can free
her, and you will never find it."
	He was left alone, the glowing rune on his hand still burning
against his skin, the passions of magik still running high in his body.
"I swear," he whispered. "that I will find the soul to break your
curse. And then Milady Selena will be free at last."


	There are only a handful of souls in the world possessing a power
capable of capturing the beauty of old Faery legends in a modern and
unbelieving world. Young girls of unmatched beauty and character, their
bloodlines were of ancient origin, their wielded magiks devastating.
For a time they were soldiers protecting the innocent.
	Then came the guardian angels, legends within a Faery world not
so distant from this one. These young men were older than they
appeared, yet still possessed a fierce compassion to protect the beauty
of our dreams. For a time the two magiks came together in love and thus
in war, the final known struggle ending when an enigmatic wandering
soul was put to rest.
	And then there was silence.
	Resurrected by countless illusions and the gentle wish of an
eternal princess, he was Kageno Karasu. Now he lives in a life not
quite his own with memories not to be trusted. He knows nothing of an
ancient lineage he belongs to. He has lost touch with the magik that
still flows through his blood.
	But like all things buried deep, such shadows must one day return
to the surface. The ghosts of the past are coming back. And it will
change the course of all futures.
	And so the tales of the Dreamworld begin anew....


	Despite a February sun being high in the air on a cloudless day,
the winds were still cool enough to keep students indoors during their
times of rest from academics. Yet the lunch hour was almost at an end,
and for one more afternoon the tedium of scholarly work would continue.
But for some, the next class was a chance to exercise the body as well
as the mind.
	He walked down into the locker room where his gym clothes
awaited. Before him was a set of lockers that in truth looked like a
stack of oversized index-card holders. For a moment he hesitated before
the nameplate that read: "Kageno Karasu."
	He glanced back uneasily at his friends.
	"You might as well get it over with," the one with the moss green
hair and a few bangs of blue remarked. The raven knight was not even
bothering to suppress a grin.
	With a sigh he pulled open the door and watched the cascade of
love letters splash down at his feet. "You know," he remarked to his
friends, giving a small kick to the pile. "I think I'm starting to
dread the fourteenth. I fear for my life."
	"Oh please," the masquerade wraith said with a smirk. "It's not
like you helped any; you're to one who flirts with every lady you meet.
It's a wonder you haven't stolen our own girlfriends--not that we'd let
you. The same thing happened to Sora and I when we came here. It took
me at least a week to convince the ladies that I was taken by Ami-chan.
Let's face it: we're charming, handsome young guys. Who wouldn't love
us?"
	"And what does that make me?" the raven knight asked indignantly.
"I never heard my name mentioned in your list there, Meikyu."
	"Ara," Meikyu conceded. "But unlike Sora and I, you were very
adamant about belonging to Minako-chan. All the girls had to back down
beneath your glare."
	"I wasn't flirting," the raven angel protested. "I was just being
friendly."
	He sighed. "Sora, no one ever said you were cheating on Mako-
chan. Don't take things so personally."
	Sora nodded, the band from an engagement ring linking destinies
with the tall brunette sparkling in the light.
	He slipped on his shades, kneeling down to start rummaging
through the messy pile of love letters. Suddenly out of the corner of
his eye, as if reflected in the lenses of his shades, he saw the image
of a tall, beautiful woman.
	"Tasukete, Karasu," she whispered.
	Help me....
	Dressed in a strange gown as long silver hair danced around her
form, she held a single red rose, staring at him with sad, wintry blue
eyes. So suddenly had she appeared that he recoiled and nearly threw
himself right into the lockers.
	"Who's there?" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet as he whirled.
	But there was no one except the company already present. There
was no woman and no rose. A fragment of a dream caught in the mind's
eye, only to be lost again a heartbeat later.
	The others regarded him curiously.
	"Daijobu, Karasu?" Meikyu asked.
	He continued to stand there, flustered and trying to calm his
nerves. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Yet upon
catching even that glimpse aroused something deep within, a burning in
his blood.
	What was this feeling?
	Finally he shook his head of all doubts; he hated second-guessing
himself. "I'm fine," he answered, loosening his tie. "I just thought I
saw someone, that's all."
	He removed his gym shoes and shorts from the locker, replacing
them with the mass of love letters. Finally managing to shove them all
in, he closed the door. Again for a brief instant he saw in his mind
that image of the woman with the red rose.
	"Baka," he muttered. "Things like that don't exist."


	It was late into that same night, the darkened skies journeying
into the early hours of a February morning, that the dreams began
again.
	"Michiru?" came the voice of the tall, sandy blonde. "Michiru,
are you down here?"
	The tall sandy blonde appeared at the top of the stairs, flicking
on a light switch. The living room was bathed in bright light, and she
narrowed her eyes at the hurting glare. She sat alone on the edge of
the couch, a mystical and ancient mirror in her hands. There was a
distant expression on her face, much more so now than ever before. A
quiet yet majestic confusion had set in.
	"I had that dream again, Haruka," she said.
	Haruka grimaced. "Not again. You've been having that same dream
for over a week now. Can't your mirror tell you anything?"
	She glanced down at the mirror which allowed her to see through
illusions and magik. Yet all she could ever find in the reflection was
a brief flash of a woman bearing a single rose. Her fingers brushed
against the glass, running down the smooth surface.
	"Tasukete," she whispered, repeating the words spoken by the
woman. That strange yet beautiful person was dressed like a princess,
calling them by name. First hers, and then that of the tall sandy
blonde.
	"Someone's in danger," she stated. "Someone is calling out to us
for help."
	"They have a hell of a way of asking," Haruka remarked sourly,
sitting down next to her. She turned her head as the tall sandy blonde
protectively embraced her. "Daijobu, Michiru. We'll find the source-
even if I have to storm through the entire Dreamworld."
	She couldn't help but smile at the rough dedication Haruka held
towards her. Yet there was something else troubling her, and it was
reflected with the aura seen with that woman's image.
	She glanced down at her mirror again. "That's just it, Haruka,"
she stated. "This magik is not from the Dreamworld. And it's not quite
magik of Earth either."
	The tall sandy blonde straightened up, and she felt the caring
grip around her tighten. "Then where is this coming from?"
	"I don't know," she answered softly. "But I fear that all too
quickly we will find out."
	The mirror flashed again beyond its reflection, and this time she
could see a mask. A pale and white mask glaring back at her with more
hatred than she ever had known to exist. This was of the old magiks.
	"Neptune," it hissed.
	Two empty and seemingly lifeless eyes stared out at her. And
within those lifeless eyes she suddenly saw her broken body draped
overtop a glass coffin. She witnessed the rivers of crimson blood
staining the glass, dripping down her fingers and onto the floor, her
aqua-green eyes wide and still. The skin across her body shrivelled up
in seconds and a gleaming white skeleton stared up at her with hollow
black eyes and a sadistic grin.
	She saw her own death.
	She dropped her mirror, practically throwing it away. With a
stunned cry she recoiled back into the couch, gasping for air.
	"Michiru!" the tall sandy blonde exclaimed, grabbing her
shoulders. "Michiru! What happened?"
	"I saw a...a mask," she replied, swallowing hard. "But it saw me.
And then--"
	She could say no more, he entire body suddenly cold and
shivering. The tall sandy blonde gripped her tightly, reaffirming her
that there was someone else next to her, someone she could trust.
	"Don't worry, Michiru," Haruka said gently yet firmly into her
ear. "We've been through worse situations before. And I will never let
anything happen to you."
	The tall sandy blonde gently rocked her, and she was burying her
face into Haruka's breast, trying to forget the horrific vision given
to her. Haruka's eyes narrowed upon looking down at the discarded
mirror.
	"Nothing shall ever happen to you, Michiru. I swear it...."


	Cherry blossoms.
	A rainfall of them spilled out from a starry, cloudless sky.
	They stood but a few paces from each other, yet the distance
might as well have been from beyond opposite cliffs of a valley.
Strained silence provided the chasm between them, and confusion a
gaping darkness at its heart.
	All around them was a realm that perhaps was vaguely familiar and
perhaps not: open fields sprawled out before them, and beyond that in
the far distance, the silhouettes of an enormous palace loomed. The
winds were cool yet not cold, gentle and refreshing upon his face.
	There he stood, staring at his newfound surroundings with a
wonder found only in the eyes of a child, and the confusion that could
only be found in the mind of an adult. Opening up his palm he extended
his arm and caught a number of the pale flowers in his hand.
	"Curious," he remarked.
	Unhurried, he turned from one direction to face the next, taking
in all his senses could perceive. It was like entering a dream given
life from the breaths of a child's storybook. He laughed, shaking his
head at the notion.
	And then he saw her standing before him, just a few steps away.
Long silver hair billowed out around her pale yet beautiful face, and
saddened eyes of wintry blue stared into his very soul. In her hands
was clasped a single red rose.
	"You," he said, the recognition appearing in his expression. His
fingers grasped the edge of his shades and he removed them from his
face. "I've seen you before, haven't I?" he asked.
	That vision from the locker room.
	It had been her to call out for help, to call out his name.
	"Please," she said, her eyes trembling yet unable to shed any
tears. "Tasukete. Not much time is left, or else I will be lost
forever. Karasu...please."
	"Who are you?" he asked. "What is your name?"
	"There are times when destinies intertwine," she said. "Yet while
some collide, others are meant to only touch and then leave. Ours
cannot be just a touch such as this. Please...save me."
	He held out his palm as it to grab her fingers and pull her away
from whatever danger she might have been in. "Take my hand," he
instructed.
	Suddenly she exploded into a fury of petals, the fragile blossoms
sweeping past him in a violent fury. In the whirlwind of petals he saw
the sparkle of a single white mask fall to the ground, shattering as it
touched the earth. But he still saw the sadistic grin that pale white
face held towards him.
	The storm of cherry blossoms raged through, hitting his skin with
the effect of a pounding rainfall.
	"Who are you?" he called out. "Tell me!"
	And then with a blast of white hot light, the vision came to a
crashing end.


	He threw himself out of bed, gasping for breath as the sweat
trickled down his skin. Fingers tightly gripping the sheets of his bed,
he looked down at himself. The bed was his own, as was the room around
it. There was no distant field and even more, no woman with long silver
hair.
	"Yume," he whispered between hoarse pants for air. He began to
smile uneasily in trying to shake that feeling of dread. "Shimatta, it
was only a dream."
	Yet a horrific one at that.
	Perhaps what made it all the more frightening was that he could
recall nothing of the dream except for being left with this sickening
fear locked inside his stomach as he awoke. Running a hand down his
face, he tried to shake himself of any dread and glanced over at his
bedside clock.
	"You've got to be kidding me," he lamented. "It's only three in
the morning!"
	This was not the best way to start a morning, especially when he
had to get up for school in three and a half hours anyways. He shifted
around beneath his bedsheets, and then paused as he felt something rub
against his legs. Very slowly lifting the sheets, he peered into his
bed by use of the pale moonlight dripping in through his window.
	There at his feet was a pillow of delicate cherry blossoms.
	"What the hell's going on?" he whispered, shaking his head. "Am I
losing my mind?"
	It was like his dreams were coming back to life, and although he
believed in many strange things that might exist on Earth, this was
beyond him. Kicking out as many petals as he could, he tried to settle
back down on his futon. However, no matter what he tried and regardless
of his intentions, sleep was not about to find him for the remainder of
the night.


	He raced into the antechamber which housed the Mandala.
	This artefact of the ancient world was so incredible in power and
design; many centuries had he spent studying its form, and none so far
had given even the slightest insight. Standing before him, moving
gracefully and blowing soft notes like a flute, was the great Mandala.
	Seven spheres forever orbiting around a great stone wheel of
ancient magik, it was a creation which defied all magik because it
seemed to forge all magik. He would never truly know how long it had
existed, and by now he understood that for all he did know about it, he
still didn't know the half of the Mandala's mystery.
	The hundreds of small white candles lining the room flickered as
the magik of the great Mandala began to manifest itself, growing and
swelling as mysts poured out from the central wheel, which in itself
was three different rings, each rotating on different axis.
	The first of the seven circling orbs burned brightly, and a
strange rune painted in darkest black could suddenly be seen. It spoke
of "Earth", a planet that had once been next to his own realm. The rune
vanished in a heartbeat, the crystal now becoming clear instead of
misty.
	"Incredible," he whispered, gazing at the magnificence of the
city and its lights against a backdrop of midnight skies. How much the
world had changed, for both the better and for the worse. Magik was
almost lost to these people now, and he wondered how anything of such
essence could survive on its own.
	The second orb was branded with a rune, this one of "Princess".
Yet it could have meant anything for faces were cascading into the
crystal. One was of Milady Selena and the others were none he
recognized, moving too fast for him to full see.
	The third crystal was marked by the "warrior" rune. And all he
could see were three silhouettes standing behind a curtain of shadows.
The fourth exploded with the sign of "magik", something any who entered
the Sanctuary had to possess. And it seemed that all three shadows held
within them some form of this power. Had people remembered the ancient
magik even in this modern world?
	Their faces were revealed one by one.
	One sphere glowed with the rune of "skies", the orb fading to
reveal the face of a tall sandy-blonde, a young man--or was it a young
woman? Yet another burned with markings of "oceans" and displayed an
elegant and beautiful young woman with wavy hair the colour of distant
waters.
	And on the final one appeared the last piece of the cryptic
riddle he sought to unravel. It bore the character of "raven", fading
to reveal a young man with shining blonde hair and a pair of crystal
blue eyes hidden beneath a pair of shades.
	"Masaka," he whispered incredulously, unable to suppress the awe
across his face. "Is that you, Karasu?"
	Then a shaft of blue light erupted from each crystal, all
focusing into the centre of the great Mandala. He was forced to step
back and shield his eyes, but even still he could see a final rune
carved out from burning fire hovering above the floor. It read:
"destiny".
	As abrupt as the magik had begun, it now did cease in the same
fashion. The great Mandala lost all of its light, the orbiting crystals
now silent except for the whistling like that of a flute made in their
motions.
	"Diabolical," he said quietly. "Not one soul to break the curse,
but three. No wonder I could never find the chosen one until now." He
straightened. "I must summon them all immediately."
	He did not even get to make one step further. Turning around he
came face to face with a hooded black cloak without a body, and a white
mask without a face. The guise was raised to where the head should be,
and the lips fluctuated to give way to speech.
	"Going somewhere, Morpheus?" the mask inquired. It was an
innocent question laced with dark tones, and by the look in those
hollow yet living eyes he knew that it had seen those three souls in
the Mandala.
	"I'm going to finally put an end to your curse," he answered, not
even bothering to look into the eyes of his enemy. Before the phantasm
could give a response he stalked out from the gallery with new resolve.
	The mask's eyes narrowed in a dark and sinister glare. From empty
lips the mask chuckled. "We shall see, DreamSeer. We shall see...."


	It was late in the evening, the sun once more in its final stages
of being swallowed up by the midnight heavens. The air was still cold,
confining them all to the indoors. Even still, they kept one fusama
open to the outside, enjoying the breeze and with it the scenery.
	Many of them were present: the blue-haired genius and the
masquerade wraith, the tall brunette and the raven angel, the long-
haired blonde and the raven knight. The only ones present without a
boyfriend were the odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired shrine
girl. The dark-haired prince had studies to work on, while the shrine
protege had temple chores to look after.
	That just left him, the odd man out.
	He chuckled at the remarks thrown about between friends of the
day gone by and the events brought with it. Sitting on the floor with
his back against the doorpost for the open fusama, he stared out at the
wintry night.
	"No, I'm serious, Mako-chan!" the long-haired blonde laughed.
"You know what they say: just because it has a cute picture on the
front doesn't mean it's a manga!"
	"That's 'don't judge a book by it's cover', Minako-chan," the
raven knight sighed.
	"So what are you going to do for Valentine's Day?" the masquerade
wraith asked of the blue-haired genius. "Another chess match perhaps?"
	The blue-haired genius blushed, followed by a very quiet, and
very deliberate, "H-hai."
	He smirked, shaking his head at their romantic words and
gestures. Not that it got him anywhere, though it seemed strange to
hear them while keeping his own company. This was the eve of the 13th
day of February. Tomorrow would be a celebration set aside for romance
and love.
	So what was love?
	What made it so important?
	He adeptly slid his hand inside his open jacket, pulling out a
single red rose without making so much as a sound. For a moment he
played around with the red rose in his hands, contemplating how to give
it away.
	Was this love, embodied in a single rose? It had been said before
that a rose was still a rose no matter how one called it. Savage
beauty: a blossom of delicate petals and a tangle of vicious thorns. In
acquiring such a lovely thing, you could be moved to tears--or be cut
and bleed.
	He made a motion to give it to the dark-haired shrine girl,
extending his hand yet finding himself handing the delicate flower to
the very air.
	The dark-haired shrine girl had turned away, violet eyes
narrowing. "Odd feeling," the dark-haired girl remarked distantly. "As
if I can feel another powerful presence nearby."
	Right at that exact moment, the shrine protege walked around the
corner of one of the other buildings. "Rei-chan!" the young man called
out.
	"There's your presence," the masquerade wraith chuckled.
	The dark-haired shrine girl glanced back at him, but by that time
he had already hidden the rose in his jacket.
	"Grandfather wants to talk you," the shrine protege said.
	"Now?" the shrine girl asked, visibly annoyed.
	The young man nodded. "He wants you to be there right now. If not
I think he's going to come out and get you."
	The dark-haired shrine girl sighed. "Yare yare. I'll go see him.
Better than him coming outside and making a fool of himself in public.
Come on, Yuichiro."
	Latching onto the shrine protege's arm, the dark-haired shrine
girl apologized to the rest of them and slipped through one of the
fusamas into a hallway. Just before the divider was shut, they were all
given a chance to see the two kiss.
	For a moment there was only the sound of the wind whistling
across the pavilion. A few of the others present gave awkward glances
back at him. He didn't seem to notice their gazes. Sighing longingly,
he smiled at the couple--despite nursing a broken heart.
	"She is just so cute." With a simple gesture the rose was back in
his palm. For a few seconds he stared at the flower, studying its
petals.
	"Ara," he remarked, adjusting his shades and tossing the rose to
the odango-haired blonde. "Can't let it go to waste now, can we? Now if
you'll excuse me--" He stood up and began walking down the veranda
steps onto the cobblestone path. "--I just remembered I still have some
homework to take care of. Ja ne."
	"Daijobu, Karasu?" the odango-haired blonde asked, concerned.
	He laughed it off. "Oh come on, Usagi-chan! I'm just a cute high
school senior who's got his own fan club. I think I'll survive."
	They all watched as he disappeared around the corner of the
building, now but a mere shadow amidst the surrounding trees.
	"Fate can be so twisted sometimes," the raven angel said quietly,
looking out at the trees. "No matter what life he has, he still falls
in love with the same right girl at the same wrong time."
	"Hai," the masquerade wraith agreed. "Poor guy; must be driving
him out of his mind."
	"He's bound to find someone, though!" the odango-haired blonde
spoke up, trying to sound optimistic. "I mean, Karasu's so popular!"
	"Popularity means little when you're searching for true love,
Usagi," the blue-haired genius said. "It only makes things all the more
complicated."


	The torii was just up ahead of him, the jinja about a few steps
behind. The towering crimson gateway just seemed to loom there, its
shadow cast in the glowing rays of the setting sun pushing out so far
as to hit his feet. He sighed, removing his shades and tucking them
into his inner jacket pocket.
	"Shimatta," he remarked.
	So that was love after all, embodied in a single red rose.
Beautiful and flawless, perfect in form and fragrance. And with it came
a stem of thorns that cut deep enough to draw blood. Okay, so the dark-
haired shrine girl had a boyfriend.
	Did that really have to upset him?
	At least a dozen love letters were starting to add up daily in
his locker, and the only girl he seemed to show even remote interest in
had some shrine protege to love. Hell, it was strange anyways hanging
out with a group of friends who were all paired up save for him.
	Maybe he should transfer. He shook that thought aside; not like
that, with only one month of this place after transferring to Juuban
High. Maybe he should actually start taking a good, hard look at the
girls who were dropping love letters in his locker, his desk, his
books, his jacket--
	He stopped short in his intimations as he nearly walked right
into a couple just entering the Shinto temple grounds. "Oh, gomen
nasai," he aplogized.
	For a moment he paused to study them: they were both very tall
and very mature in appearance. The lady had incredible eyes that
matched her wavy, aqua-green hair. And what looked to be her boyfriend
had sandy blonde hair not even close to being as long as his.
	In a strange, distant way they seemed familiar somehow. Yet he
would certainly have recognized such a beautiful young woman and her
surprisingly handsome boyfriend.
	"Komban wa," he said, courtly bowing and dismissing that nagging
sense of deja vu.
	The tall sandy blonde's eyes widened. "You...."
	She looked at the young man standing before her, the wind
suddenly rising up to blow her aqua-green hair about her face.
"Karasu?" she asked.
	It was him, there could be no doubts. But there was also
something very different; no longer could she feel his aura of
illusion. As if the illusions no longer existed with his powers.
	As if he was but...but a normal human being.
	They had both been told the story by the odango-haired blonde,
but never had the opportunity to meet the Wanderer without his powers
until this moment. It was somewhat frightening to see him like this.
	He gave both of them confused looks. "Do I know you? Have we met
before?"
	It was best to work with the illusion given, so she shook her
head. He seemed to dismiss it as well. "So what brings you two out here
to the Fire River Temple at this hour?" he asked, flashing a disarming
smile at her. He was flirting, and the tall, sandy blonde saw it.
	"We're looking for someone," she answered. "We need help with a
vision, actually."
	"Oh, you must be looking for Rei-chan," he said, slipping his
hands into his pockets. "She's with her grandfather at the moment. Go
out to the building on your far right and you'll meet up with a bunch
of her friends. They'll tell you where she is."
	"Arigato," the tall sandy blonde said, trying to hurry the
conversation along with as much courtesy for the past Wanderer as could
be gathered.
	He shook his head, studying them once more. "Strange. Forgive me
for sounding brash, but I cannot help thinking I've met you both
before."
	Abruptly the sound of ringing bells echoed across the temple
grounds. They turned and looked to the jinja, the main shrine. There,
dangling from one of the timbers, was a bell. The cord of rope was
dancing wildly about, jingling the bells at the top. Yet it was being
pulled by its own accord, yanking down on itself to pay homage to the
jinja and petition for a granted wish.
	"Now there's something you don't see every day," he remarked,
taking a cautious step forward. As bizarre as it seemed they were in a
Shinto shrine; such things held the possibility of happening.
	Her eyes widened as she felt an aura emerging all around them,
the exact one reflected in her dreams. "Haruka," she whispered. "She's
here."
	"Tasukete," came a desperate plea from behind them.
	All three whirled, staring at the form of a woman with long
silver hair standing beneath the frame of the torii. The girl's eyes
called out to them, sadness on the verge of tears in an anguished
petition.
	"M-masaka," he exclaimed.
	"Please," the girl whispered. "Help me."
	Suddenly the entire torii exploded into a shaft of light that
shot upwards into the darkened skies, turning evening into morning. The
light swelled out from the epicentre, engulfing the entire Shinto
temple in the pale glow.
	"Na ni?!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in front of his face
to shield his eyes from the intense light.
	"Michiru!" Haruka shouted, reaching out for her.
	But it was already too late.
	All three became lost in that glow of magik, swallowed up by the
crying pleas of a mysterious woman bearing a single red rose. As abrupt
as the light had appeared, it also vanished to leave behind a clear but
cool February evening, and an empty courtyard where three people had
once stood.


	It was slow going as her mind came back to working order; there
was a disorientation that seemed to have originated from that burst of
power back at the Shinto shrine. Her aqua-green eyes opened up to the
sight of a pedestal carved from black marble. Atop the pedestal was a
golden wyvern caught in mid ascent.
	The creature possessed no front paws but instead a set of
enormous wings that ran down its sides, meeting with its hind legs.
Much like a bat in respect to body form. But those eyes; even though
they were forged from gold she could swear that they were somehow
looking at her with a working mind behind them.
	A helping hand appeared in front of her.
	"Yare yare," the sandy blonde said darkly. "Even when we're not
looking for trouble, trouble comes looking for us."
	She smiled and was pulled to her feet. "Ara, Haruka. But we don't
know if this is a threat. This could be a Dreamworld fantasy."
	The arches protruding from the shimmering grey walls resembled a
ribcage structure, pillars and columns scattered across the expanse.
Here the wyvern seemed to be the central focus, the only other items
worth a second glance being a painting of a wyvern against a knight,
and a single gold coin on another pedestal. Perhaps that coin was once
from the creature's horde.
	This looked very much like the masquerade wraith's floating
palace in many respects. And yet here the ambience was more reflective
and quiet, built for intimations. This held more the look of a gallery
than anything else.
	"So you two are stuck here as well," came a familiar voice.
	The former Wanderer rose up from behind a fountain placed in the
middle of the gallery. He ran his fingers through his hair, adjusting
his shades.
	"Helluva ride, though, I must admit," he added. He stood up and
walked over to her. "I just realized we haven't been properly
introduced; my name's Kageno Karasu. But you already seemed to know
that back at the shrine."
	"So much for your introduction, then," she replied.
	He grinned. "And a quick mind for witticisms too. I'm impressed.
So then, what's your name?" he asked, extending his hand.
	"Kaio Michiru," she answered, shaking it.
	"Kaio Michiru?" he inquired, lowering his shades. "Not *the* Kaio
Michiru, the famous violin player?"
	She nodded.
	"An honour to meet you," he said, bowing down and kissing her
hand. "And I must say that you are even more beautiful in person than
on camera."
	He paused in straightening up as Haruka gave a loud, deliberate
cough. "And who might you be?" he asked.
	"Tenou Haruka," the tall sandy blonde answered icily. "Would you
mind removing your hand from Michiru's?"
	"Certainly," he replied evenly, flashing her a charming smile.
"Gomen ne, Haruka-san. I didn't realize you two were boyfriend and
girlfriend."
	The tall sandy blonde's eyebrow twitched. "He really has lost his
memories, hasn't he?" Haruka muttered to her.
	She nodded. "If he was to exist in our world this way, all ties
to the past must have been severed: memories and magik too. He doesn't
remember anything."
	He was oblivious to their quiet words, instead leaning over the
smooth curvature of the fountain's walls and letting his fingers drift
in the clear waters. From somewhere in the back in his mind a distant
memory struggled to emerge from a blanket of forgetfulness. He
grimaced, pulling out his fingers.
	"So," he inquired, shaking his hand dry. "Does anyone here have
an idea as to where we might be?"
	"You know more than we do about these things," Haruka answered.
"What with all the travelling you've done."
	"Haruka," she chided.
	He gave the sandy blonde a funny look. "Who says I should be the
expert here? I've never been further than Kyoto in my life."
	"Gomen," Haruka replied, trying to cover up the error.
	She produced her mirror, and though his curiosity was visibly
piqued, the former Wanderer kept silent and merely raised an eyebrow.
Upon gazing into the reflection she saw a beautiful soul with flowing,
silver hair holding a single red rose. That woman again....
	Abruptly a stray beam of moonlight caught the surface, and within
that flash she caught sight of a young man with long chestnut brown
hair juxtaposed against a bizarre hooded cloak wearing a white mask
with a malevolent grin. This image was so swift and so brief that she
could barely even take in any of the details.
	"This is linked with my dreams somehow," she said.
	"Are you absolutely certain?" the tall sandy blonde countered.
"This doesn't seem to be linked with the Dreamworld in the slightest-
except for him." Haruka made a quick nod towards the former Wanderer.
"Is your mirror starting to wear down?"
	She smiled. "I think it has a warranty lasting a few thousand
years, so I'm not worried about that."
	"Ne, you two," he cut in, slowly backing away from them. On his
face was an expression of seeing something rather unreal and not
exactly enjoying that fact. "If you're finished with your romantic
whispers, you might want to take a look at that statue."
	The golden wyvern was rippling in form, slowly coming to life.
Its chest began to heave and its wings curled up around its face. The
entire shine of gold over it faded, now a dark emerald texture.
	All three went on the defensive, Haruka coming between her while
Karasu kept his own distance. She glanced up at the tall sandy blonde;
Haruka had never been this defensive of her before. Was it because of
those visions?
	Leisurely the wyvern stretched out its neck and yawned, its wings
span growing to almost five feet across. And then the creature noticed
it had company. Two small, black eyes fixated onto Karasu. And with a
sudden shriek the wyvern spread its wings and lunged for him.
	"Karasu!" she called out.
	But nothing could be done to intervene; the wyvern was moving too
fast and already upon him. "This is going to hurt," he muttered,
bracing himself.
	The wyvern pounced, grappling onto his body with enough momentum
to send them both crashing backwards as its massive wings wrapped
around them. Abruptly a warm shock pounded inside his head, a shock so
delightfully warm that he lost consciousness.


	He was standing in those open fields again. In the far off
distance were mountain ranges, and to the opposite horizon was the
silhouette of an enigmatic palace. He had been here before, once in
what he thought to be a dream. So was this a dream around him now? With
deliberate motions he slowly removed his shades from in front of his
eyes.
	"I know you," he said. "I've seen you haunt me."
	The woman with long silver hair stood out before him once more, a
saddened plea in her wintry blue eyes. She was begging him for
something, to do something.
	"Tasukete," she whispered.
	"I'll help if you only tell me what trouble you're in," he
replied evenly, the winds rising to blow his shining blonde hair across
his face and shoulders.
	She was indeed beautiful.
	With the elegant grace of a princess, the woman opened up her
hands to display a crystal sphere in her palms. The hands parted, and
the crystal fell to the ground. Yet instead of shattering, the orb
bounced, leaving ripples along the grass as if the earth itself was
made of water.
	And then it bounced one last time, soaring high enough to drop
into his grasp. "What is this?" he asked, gently holding the crystal
orb in his hands. Whatever it was, it was very beautiful. Flawless and
smooth, this crystal seemed to shine brighter with his personal touch.
As if it somehow knew him.
	"You must remember," the woman whispered. "Please, I ask you:
rediscover your lost magik. Karasu...."
	She stepped backwards, fading away like a ghost.
	"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. "What magik? Can't you tell me
what's going on here?"
	But she was already gone. He sighed; well, better the girl
leaving peacefully than in an explosive storm of cherry blossoms. But
that still didn't explain any of this to him.
	"Karasu?"
	Rediscover lost magik? This beautiful woman was calling out to
him for help, like a maiden in distress. As if he was to come charging
in like a knight on a white horse. There was such a loneliness in the
woman's sparkling eyes, a longing that he couldn't fully understand.
	Was this all about love?
	"Karasu...?"


	"Karasu?"
	It was her voice he heard as he finally opened his eyes. "Ohayo,
Michiru," he said pleasantly. "Now this is a wonderful first thing to
see when you open up your eyes."
	She simply smiled that playful smile, not quite taking him
seriously yet not ignoring his charm completely. What a mystery she
was!
	"How long were you planning on lying sprawled out across the
floor, Karasu?" the tall sandy blonde asked.
	"Take it easy on me," he answered. "I had a rough day." He
smiled, pushing back some of his blonde bangs. "You're never going to
believe the dream I had. You and Haruka were in it. We were at this
Shinto temple and then suddenly this woman appeared and we were
swallowed up by a flash of light. And then there was this dragon
thing...."
	He sat up, rubbing the back of his tender skull. And then his
crystal blue eyes looked out at their new surroundings. His hand moved
from his neck to his shades, lowering them down his nose.
	"Kuso," he lamented. "It's real."
	The tall, sandy-blonde laughed. "You just seem to be a glutton
for punishment, Karasu."
	"I love you too, Haruka," he retorted wearily. "Where did
that...thing disappear to?"
	"The creature seemed to panic when it knocked you out," she
replied. "It screeched and flew off through that archway."
"And you didn't bother to chase it down to avenge me?" he asked,
feigning indignant hurt.
	Haruka cracked a wicked smirk. "I thought you were old enough to
fight your own battles, Karasu."
	He sighed, not about to provide some form of snappy retort to the
sandy blonde's snappy retort. The back of his head was still moving to
a dull and very irritating throbbing rhythm.
	"Welcome," came a new voice, soft in tone yet with enough power
behind it to demand at least some form of reverent respect. There their
host stood beneath the enormous archway that led out from this gallery,
and into a fury of new ones.
	"Dream...Seer?" she whispered quietly.
	Their host nodded. "Hai. I am he."
	Haruka gave her a strange look. "How did you know that?"
	"I'm not entirely certain," she replied. "But at the very least,
he's the one who holds the answers we seek."
	Perched on the young man's shoulders was the wyvern, its wings
folded into its sides. The creature cocked its head to give them all a
sideways glance. "I trust you are all fine," the DreamSeer said
courtly. "My wyvern didn't alarm you, I hope."
	"Your what?" the former Wanderer asked.
	"It's been a long time since Fuu-chan's seen you, Karasu," the
young man said. "You can imagine her excitement when she woke up and
suddenly found you here."
	He was still somewhat groggy and didn't voice a protest of what
looked to be mistaken identity to the DreamSeer. Instead he rubbed the
back of his sore head and simply nodded.
	"Karasu," the DreamSeer said with a smile, shaking his hand. "How
strange that fate should conspire to bring us face to face again like
this. But it is good to see you again. You're all grown up now."
	He stared at the DreamSeer, utterly bewildered at the situation
presented before him. "Do I know you?" he finally asked.
	The young man glanced over to her, the smile fading fast. "Is he
serious?"
	"The memories of his past life have been erased," she informed
the young man. "He doesn't remember anything as being the Wanderer."
	"Excuse me," he cut in. "I was once who?"
	"Forget it," Haruka told him. "It would take too long to fill you
in on the last ten centuries of your life."
	"My last ten what?!"
	"Quiet, please," she scolded them both. "Let our host speak." She
for one wanted more than anything to unravel this puzzle. Anything to
bring peace to her mind about a nightmare of her own death.
	The young man nodded. "My name is Morpheus. I am a DreamSeer, one
who resides on the borders between two worlds. One is yours that is
called Earth. And the other is--"
	"Let me guess," the tall, sandy blonde cut in. "The Dreamworld?"
	Again Morpheus nodded. "I am the gatekeeper of this sanctuary,
this place which hides the last true magiks of Earth. For a long time
they have been under threat by humanity's unbelief. I am here to see
they are kept safe."
	With a gesture the young man motioned for them to follow. A
hundred different sights and smells deluged the trio as they set out
into the last sanctuary of magik. Down through archways and corridors
opening up into courtyards and atriums they wandered.
	She glanced around the galleries they walked through.
	The distant sound of a beautiful symphony reached her ears, and
for a moment, beyond one of the doorways she could see ghostly dancers
parading and twirling around. They were so lost in love and laughter.
It seemed almost like the dances of the masquerade wraith.
	A white tyger, adorned with jagged streaks of black, groggily
lifted its head from its paws to stare at the passers-by. Beside the
magnificent beast laid an infant cub whose fur was dark black adorned
with jagged streaks of white. The tyger cub stirred in its peaceful
slumber, ears twitching as they moved past.
	"Michiru," came Haruka's quite voice. "Look."
	She lifted her head and saw a parade of tiny sparkling lights
soaring amidst the backdrop of a skylight's midnight heaven.
	"Faery starlight," she whispered, her hand somehow instinctively
finding Haruka's. Their fingers laced together, and hand in hand they
continued to follow the DreamSeer.
	Under other circumstances, on another night, she would love to
walk amidst this sanctuary and admire its beauty. Perhaps even play her
violin here with the treasures of long-forgotten magik. She could
actually see herself standing here giving a performance to whatever
magiks were alive to listen.
	A series of stones along the wall suddenly rippled to life, a
human face peering out at them, every last detail perfected in the
chiselled rock. The face smiled in welcoming these newcomers. A quartet
of handheld balls with colours possessed of a rainbow gone awry bounded
past them, each one flashing its own aura of light across their faces.
	The DreamSeer led them through even more halls connecting all the
galleries. It seemed that for every expansive corridor there were five
complimenting galleries filled with their own private magik.
	"So what's your story?" Karasu asked, adjusting his shades.
	"I was there in the aftermath of the Moon kingdom's destruction,"
the DreamSeer explained sombrely. "As I stood there amidst the
devastation I vowed to seek out and protect the magiks of Earth that
were being threatened with extinction."
	"That was over one thousand years ago," the tall, sandy-blonde
said.
	The young man nodded. "Indeed it was. And my lineage runs from
that ancient time. Many nights I stand out in a courtyard of pasture
and fields, watching a lone unicorn roam wild and free. And then I
cannot help but remember the beauty and wonder of that time."
	They came to what appeared to be a central atrium with a high,
domed ceiling of stars and moon, enclosed with archways in a sunken
floor. She and the tall sandy-blonde slipped away from each other now,
each one searching out this newfound place on their own.
	"This is where it all began," Morpheus stated. "Within these
walls and archways is the Gallery."
	Her aqua-green eyes came to rest upon the central piece to the
Gallery. "A glass coffin," she said, looking at the nearly invisible
surface. Only the reflection of the enchanted lanterns gave hint of
there being an enclosure. And there within the coffin forged of glass
was a beautiful soul laid in a bed of scarlet roses, eyes closed as if
trapped in an eternal sleep.
	He was the first to react. "No way!" he exclaimed, pointing at
the glass coffin. "That's the woman from my dreams!"
	"And the one we saw at the shrine," she agreed, finding his
startled excitement somewhat amusing. Such a far cry from a reaction of
the old Wanderer.
	Haruka glanced around the Gallery, fists clenching and then
relaxing. It was obvious that the tall, sandy-blonde was uneasy about
their surroundings.
	"Is this why you brought us here?" Haruka asked.
	"She is Milady Selena," the DreamSeer explained, slowly walking
to the coffin as if finally taking one last step to fulfilling destiny.
"She is the reason destiny has brought you three here. Placed under a
curse, here she remains in a dreamless sleep. Only you can break this
hellish curse that has entrapped her soul. You three warriors are her--
and my--last hope."
	Something within his heart seemed captivated by the ethereal
beauty, and before he realized it he found himself beside the DreamSeer
at the coffin. There was a pull of deep magik rising to the surface,
suppressed only by confusion and hesitation. But the wonder was still
there, and it would keep the magik alive for as long as it needed to
lie dormant.
	"She's beautiful," he said quietly, staring down at the woman's
face behind the glass. His fingers traced their way along the invisible
frame.
	"Karasu," Morpheus asked of him. "Would you please walk with me?"
	The wyvern atop the DreamSeer's shoulder gave a contented squeak
as it yawned, wings curling around its body like a second skin. With
large, curious black eyes it stared at him. He hesitated, still
overwhelmed by a magik he should have known intimately, but had lost in
the sphere of a crystal illusion. He gave an inquiring glance at her.
	"Daijobu, Karasu," she reassured him. "I don't think he holds us
any ill will."
	"You sure?" he pressed.
	Haruka grinned. "If we meet another wyvern, I'll give you a
call."
	He rolled his eyes, turning towards the stairs. "Arigato," he
remarked sarcastically. "Be careful, you two." And then he slipped
beneath one of the arches and walked down an adjacent corridor. For one
brief moment a silver cloak flickered to life on his back, disappearing
to be regarded as only a daydream.
	"Thank you, Lady Neptune," Morpheus said quietly, leaving the
Gallery with the wyvern.
	That caused her to pause for a moment; indeed she had almost
forgotten that the DreamSeer was from their ancient realm and would
have recognized them. What was Morpheus in the time of the Silver Moon
Kingdom? A prince perhaps, or a baron of their solar system--or maybe
even someone like the Starlights; an ambassador from another galaxy.
But then how had the DreamSeer escaped the destruction of Empress
Metalia?
	She stepped closer to the glass coffin, smiling at the image of
the ethereal beauty locked within. Abruptly a distant memory resurfaced
from the depths of her mind, and she finally understood who this woman
was within the glass coffin.	She held her breath for a moment,
calming the surge of adrenaline within her body.
	"Haruka," she said quietly, fingers touching the glass surface.
"This was once our Queen of the Silver Millennium."
	The tall, sandy-blonde stiffened, catching the implication yet
unbelieving at first. "Michiru, what are you saying?"
	She slowly raised her head, staring out at the archways where the
former Wanderer and the DreamSeer had departed. It felt like a dream
was unfolding before them in the form of a magik Faery tale. And they
were all destined to be consumed by it.
	"This," she said. "is Karasu and Usagi's mother."


	It was a lost work of the master.
	A portrait of a lone knight dressed in strange robes with a
silver cloak upon his back and a magnificent sword in his hands. Yet
this figure was in the shadows, and despite the prevailing darkness,
every last feature of the lone knight's face seemed to shimmer with an
unseen light. The very essence of the painting was Renaissance, yet not
quite; there was something that simply could not be conventionally
described in the work.
	"DaVinci always did know how to paint," Morpheus said. "I mourned
his passing. I don't think I will ever truly know how much magik he
possessed himself."
	He shifted positions from atop the outer rim of a fountain. Here
was another gallery, just like the others around it but unique unto
itself. Here the entire chamber was elliptical in shape and with dimmed
lighting. The fountain was in the centre of the chamber, while the
painting was at the far end.
	"In my world this painting would be priceless," Karasu remarked.
"You could make a fortune with that."
	"These are not merely trinkets to sell away to the highest
bidder," the DreamSeer said irritably. "They all represent a part of
Earth's first wonder and innocence, when magik was the very essence
that bound us together."
	"Gomen, gomen!" he replied defensively, raising his hands. "I
didn't mean it that way." He sighed, resting his hands on the edge of
the fountain. "Why do I feel so at home here?" he muttered to himself.
	Upon his arrival, this realm held with it a strange comfort, a
warm blanket that gave rise to his soul and a shadow of memories that
didn't quite seem to be his.
	The DreamSeer smiled. "It is the last sanctuary for the magiks of
Earth, Karasu. Every legend, every Faery tale, every part of history
holds with it something mystical that no one can ever explain or simply
place into a bottle. Yet times change, and over the centuries the
magiks are being crushed by science and the modern age. Unless
something is done to save them, they are lost forever. I realized that
when the Silver Moon kingdom was destroyed."
	"An ancient moon kingdom?" he asked. "You believe in that myth?"
	It was but a Faery tale, though a beautiful one that had more
than once captivated his imagination on a dark night. Strangely enough
most others he discussed it with had never heard of it. Even he
remained uncertain as to how he had ever uncovered the old legends and
accounts. And yet despite the connection he had felt, he felt a need to
dismiss it as simply myth.
	"Look around you, Karasu," Morpheus said, gesturing to the
gallery and its antechambers. "Everything here defies the modern
belief. Magik is indeed real and you are a part of it. You would have
never gained access to the Sanctuary if otherwise."
	He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Reality as he
knew it was taking a severe beating and leaving him with a headache. "I
don't feel like I possess a magik," he admitted. "I'm about as normal
as the next guy. The only thing impressive about me is the number of
girls who follow me home every night from school."
	Morpheus smiled. "I can understand how you feel, Karasu. You hold
a past life from that ancient moon kingdom. In fact you are also in
possession of another powerful magik. But that has all been buried deep
within your heart."
	The wyvern hopped down, perching next to him on the rounded edge
of the fountain. It nudged his side as if asking for some attention. He
smiled, scratching beneath the wyvern's jaws. The little creature gave
a contented, purring growl.
	"Kawaii," he laughed. "She really is cute, I must admit."
	"Fuu-chan's an old friend of yours," the DreamSeer said. "From
what I gather, you've been living quite a remarkable life: existing as
a lost soul for over a thousand years, and finally reuniting with your
sister and the royal court."
	"What does that have to do with her?" he asked, pointing down to
the wyvern.
	Morpheus stepped away from the DaVinci masterpiece. "According to
Fuu-chan, you were the one who saved her in the twelfth century from
extinction at the hands of the knights of the Crusades. You gave her a
magik of illusion to exist within the Dreamworld, and she kept you
company for fifty years before she left to search me out here."
	He shook his head, removing his shades. "Sorry if I seem
skeptical, but how did you ever manage to create this place without
anyone ever knowing? Secrets in our world today are hard to keep that
way. A satellite would surely have picked something this large up."
	Morpheus sighed wearily, as if burdened by the centuries of duty.
"I searched out a magik with which to keep this place intact and hidden
from the outside world. Here the last creatures and implements of magik
are safe, and I must fight to keep it this way. I tend to those already
here, and always search for those still surviving on Earth."
	He glanced away from the DreamSeer, over at the corridor leading
back into the Gallery, finding himself suddenly chilled for no apparent
reason. Something seemed to be calling him back there, to that glass
coffin. And then he felt the hand of the DreamSeer resting upon his
shoulder.
	"Your blood echoes of such a magik, Karasu," Morpheus said. "but
I can see that like the world you too have forgotten it. It saddens me;
you of all people--"
	"Hey, I didn't forget anything!" he snapped angrily, stepping
back and pushing away Morpheus' hand. Who in the hell was this guy to
tell him what was reality?
	The wyvern gave a startled yelp as it toppled backwards into the
cold water. Thrashing about for a few moments the creature righted
itself and levelled at him an icy glare.
	He was still furious about someone attacking his identity, the
very memories that were few and very dear to him. "I'm Kageno Karasu!"
he proclaimed. "I'm seventeen years old and a Sagittarius."
	He knew who he was.
	"My mother and father are...they are...."
	And with that his entire argument began to crumble. He had never
really bothered to stop and think about this. There were no memories of
his parents. Not a single one, as if they had never existed in the
first place. Childhood memories escaped him; had he ever thought of
himself as once being a child?
	Other memories escaped him: birthdays, reunions, moves, pets,
tears and laughter, first loves. They were all there in a blur of
forgetfulness, escaping his grasp. All that seemed concrete was his
coming to Juuban High in Tokyo about a month and a half ago.
	Suddenly there he saw himself in the waters of the fountain, a
young man with flowing blonde hair and crystal blue eyes hidden beneath
a pair of shades. But was this truly the Kageno Karasu he knew, the
Kageno Karasu he once was?
	"Who am I?" he whispered, staring down at his own reflection.
"Kuso. Who am I...?"


	"What does your mirror have to say?" the tall, sandy-blonde
asked.
	She shook her head, staring into a reflection that was only of
herself. No visions, no glimpses into other magiks. No solutions could
be offered by her mirror, no insight into the link between Milady
Selena and the vision of her own death.
	A cool and refreshing draft surged through the Gallery, blowing
her wavy aqua-green hair around her shoulders and face.
	"He called himself the DreamSeer, just as you had," Haruka
remarked. "I wonder what that was all about. Do you think he's somehow
related to Helios?"
	She shook her head, slipping the mirror back into its dimensional
pocket. "To be honest, I don't know. But the auras here are from Earth
and not the Dreamworld. These are from the storybooks we have closed
and placed upon the shelves."
	With slow, majestic steps she crossed through the Gallery and
leaned against the inside of an archway. Crossing her hands over her
chest, she stared back at Haruka. "Yet Morpheus' magik is not quite of
Earth itself, though its ripples are much akin to ours. Perhaps the
magik he used to create this place was borrowed from the Dreamworld. He
is very much like a gatekeeper in that respect."
	A doorway was opening up, threads of fate moving to entangle them
all. But what did destiny have in store for them, in store for their
former queen? In truth, the Wanderer's reaction was far from her mind.
The mask was consuming her thoughts; she could feel that this was the
source of that hideous vision.
	"Michiru?" Haruka asked, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.
	She smiled in spite of her hesitations and second doubts.
"Daijobu, Haruka. There's no need to coddle me."
	The tall, sandy-blonde turned her around until they were staring
into each other's eyes. "Michiru, we've been together long enough that
I can tell when you're lying. That dream still frightens you, doesn't
it?"
	With a nod, she conceded. It was always hard to hide her true
feelings from Haruka. Anyone else but Haruka was easy to deceive behind
her elegant smile. But after all they had been through together, they
were now joined at the soul.
	Her pain became theirs.
	Her fears were something they would be facing together.
	Suddenly she was swept in the arms of the tall, sandy-blonde. "I
almost lost you once to the Deathbusters," Haruka stated, voice
quivering almost with emotions out of control. "I would rather die than
to see that happen again."
	She smiled through her fears, resting her head on Haruka's
shoulder. "Baka. Then who would be left to take care of me?"
	"I doubt it will ever come to that, Michiru. If worse comes to
worse, we can sacrifice Karasu; he's got enough illusionary lives to
spare."
	That elicited a polite chuckle from her.
	She looked up into the tall, sandy-blonde's eyes, once again
seeing a fierce dedication that would be with her for as long as they
lived and loved. Another draft swept through the Gallery, heralding the
presence of magik. Haruka's face tilted down to hers, and they both
drew closer together. But their kiss was not meant to be, for the magik
of the winds was not belonging to them.
	"I know your magiks," whispered a voice. "I know your
bloodlines."
	Haruka whirled, standing between her and whatever force might
have been out there. But the Gallery was empty, Milady Selena still
trapped in the glass coffin.
	"Who's there?" the tall, sandy-blonde demanded.
	Laughter filled the room, and flickers of light danced beneath an
archway across the Gallery from them. The flickers were of enchanted
light striking a black hooded cloak. Head bowed, the spectre continued
to laugh.
	"What's so damned funny?" Haruka growled.
	The head was raised, and in the empty shadows of a rounded hood,
a pale white mask grinned at them. Eyeholes opened up, and the lips
twitched. So empty and yet so evil....
	"You," she whispered hoarsely. This was the harbinger of her
nightmare.
	"Tell me," the mask inquired with a cruel smile. "How did you
like the visions I sent you, Lady Neptune? You will become exactly like
all the others gone before you--unless you turn back now before it is
too late."
	"What do you want with us?" she demanded, the fear gone and
replaced with anger. Uncertainty of the unknown had been her greatest
enemy, but now she saw what her nemesis was. And it made her all the
more enraged.
	"Milady Selena shall never awaken," the mask snapped. "If destiny
has indeed brought you here, then it is a destiny marking the end of
your lives."
	"I hate coming to parties for nothing," Haruka remarked, henshin
stick in hand.
	She produced her own henshin. "Don't think you'll get all the
glory, Haruka."
	The mask laughed. "Bakatachi."
	Abruptly the entire spectre convulsed, the head thrown forward as
a sickening riiiiip! echoed across the Gallery. Something large and
pulsating was bulging out from the back of the cloak. The entire
cloaked form was shuddering violently; all the while the mask continued
with its vicious laugh.
	"Na ni?" Haruka hissed.
	The cloak exploded, torn to a million shreds that danced around
their faces like a universe of little black stars. Something equally
black emerged, towering and grotesque, with a body resembling that of a
serpynt. The long neck twisted around to stare at them, the pale white
mask grinning where a face would otherwise have been.
	The beast hissed, a long, forked tongue slipping out from the
mask's lips. "Your Queen died once at the power of my magik. What makes
you so certain that you could survive?"
	That remark sent shivers down her back for a reason unknown; the
battle was escalating, and there was no time for second thoughts or
second guesses.
	"I hate just standing around and letting things happen without
me," the tall, sandy-blonde snapped, brandishing the henshin of the
planet Uranus. "Uranus Planet Power: Make Up!"
	She did the same for herself, the both of them becoming planetary
warriors in the blink of an eye and an exploding fury of sparks and
magik.
	"I suggest we skip the introductions for tonight," she said.
	Haruka grinned. "If you say so. That just means we get to the fun
part a little faster. World Shaking!"
	The attack gathered essence in Haruka's palm, unleashing itself
as it rampaged through the floor, shredding the tiled floor as if the
marble was mere cloth. With a sadistic laugh, the mask-beast raised an
enormous black hand, claws extending, and swatted the attack aside.
World Shaking spun out of control, smashing itself through a pillar and
destroying an archway before it exploded into the floor, throwing up a
cloud of thick debris.
	"That usually has more of an effect," Haruka remarked
distastefully.
	"Perhaps I should try," she offered, raising her own hands above
her head. "Deep Submerge!"
	Aquatic magik pooled around her body and then unleashed itself
towards the beast. With a roar the creature smashed its head into the
attack. Everything became lost in a geyser of water, followed by a
tidal wave that swept past them.
	There was no scathing remark or retort that followed in the
aftermath; only the savage laughter coming from the mask of the beast.
	She shook her head, dripping wet from the ricochet of her own
attack. "We might want to try a new strategy," she suggested.
	Haruka grinned. "You really think so, Michiru?"
	"Now you can join those who tried before you to awaken Milady
Selena," the mask-beast snarled, taking a step forward and falling onto
all fours. The ground beneath its hands buckled from the sheer weight.
	"Hey ugly, over here!"
	The mask-beast whirled, scarlet eyes narrowing as it saw the
DreamSeer and the former Wanderer race into the Gallery. Karasu was
waving his hands to catch the creature's attention.
	"Is he an idiot?" Haruka muttered, getting up and wiping away
some bangs of drenched sandy-blonde hair. "Without his magik, he's
liable to get himself killed."
	"You might want to tell him that," she replied.
	"Get out of here!" he shouted to them. "I'll distract...whatever
this thing is!"
	"And how do you plan to do that?" Haruka shouted back.
	His eyebrow visibly twitched. "Okay, so I'm making this up as I
go along! I have no idea what the hell I'm doing! There, are you happy
now?!"
	But the mask-beast wasn't paying any attention to them any more.
It was now sniffing the air, its nostrils having picked up a familiar
scent. "I can feel it," the beast hissed. "The blood of the Silver Moon
is here!"
	"Karasu," Morpheus advised. "Start running."
	"Why me?" he asked.
	Two blood red eyes widened in recognition, focusing onto his
form. "You!" the mask bellowed in fury. "You, boy, shall be the one I
destroy in my hour of revenge!!"
	He took a step back as the mask-beast spun around, bellowing and
displaying rows upon rows of vicious teeth and fangs. It had just taken
a direct interest in him--and a rather unhealthy one, in his opinion.
	"Was this the distraction you had in mind?" Morpheus inquired
darkly.
	"You're not helping me here," he replied, slowly backing away.
"Now I see why chivalry is dead."
	The beast began a charge.
	"Run!" the DreamSeer shouted, grabbing onto his shoulder and
pulling him back into the connecting antechamber. The beast smashed
through the rows of arches in giving chase, sweeping its neck about to
destroy more of the Sanctuary.
	"This thing seems really pissed off about something," Karasu
exclaimed, frantically leaping aside as a block of stone toppled over
in front of him. "What did I ever do to it?"
	"It's not what you did," Morpheus answered, spinning around.
"It's who you are. Shadow Rage!"
	A blast of dark night arose from the DreamSeer's palms, launching
itself at the demon beast in a raging attack. The creature howled in
anger as the magik swarmed around it, striking with enough force to
send its enormous body tipping into the nearest wall.
	Suddenly the Shadow Rage had reversed itself, bearing down in a
showering array of lightening bolts. For a split second the DreamSeer
was perfectly still, illuminated in shades of dark blue and violet
before being sent careening across the atrium.
	"Morpheus!" he exclaimed, wincing as the DreamSeer's body went
right through a pillar, the entire column going down in a cloud of
dust. There was no way a normal human being could have ever survived
that; then again, everything in this place was less than normal.
	"Karasu!" she shouted, racing out after him, the tall sandy-
blonde trying to break into a faster pace.
	With a growl, the beast launched its tail, sweeping them both
aside and hurling them across the atrium. Both soldiers slid across the
air, crashing through a large glass window that glimpsed into a strange
midnight garden.
	"Kon chikusho," he hissed, realizing that now nothing stood
between him and becoming a midnight snack to that creature. He threw
himself aside as more debris rained down from above. With his momentum
he kept rolling through the dust until he struck another item of long-
lost magik. Coughing, he brushed the dust from his face, removing his
shades.
	"Na ni?" he muttered, glancing back.
	There was the legendary weapon of King Arthur, given by the Lady
of the Lake. For over six hundred years the sword had rested here,
unused in a battle it longed to find once again.
	"Son of the Silver Moon! Shin'ne!!"
	He whirled, grimacing at seeing the grotesque beast closer than
he would have ever preferred it to be. "Um, don't mean to sound
impertinent, but I need to use this," he said, glancing down at
Excalibur, the sword now placed back into its eternal rock.
	The creature roared, its eyes wide in focusing directly on him.
An enormous paw smashed into the ground as it breathed out fire.
	"Shimatta!" he exclaimed, grabbing onto the handle and pulling
out the longsword. The weapon came out with such surprising ease that
he stumbled backwards. The scorching flames only managed to singe his
jacket as he toppled onto the floor, the fire consuming the rock on the
raised platform.
	He regarded the sword and its stone for a moment. "Nah," he
remarked, shaking his head and getting back onto his feet.
	"Damn you!" the mask-beast hissed, breathing more fire across the
atrium.
	"I hate to disappoint," he snapped. "But I'm not that easy to
kill!"
	He charged, racing on foot towards the massive creature,
springing past pillars and over debris. Dodging a stream of fire and a
vicious swipe from its claws, he raked down Excalibur on the side of
the beast.
	Something instinctual, if not primal, had seized his mind.
Perhaps his body was no longer his, but suddenly he found himself
hitting harder, moving faster, sensing things that were not quite there
to begin with. Before the beast could react he was right at its side,
levelling a devastating blow with the blade of the legendary sword. Yet
for all the powerful magik Excalibur held, it simply bounced off the
rough, black hide of the beast.
	The force of the stifled blow sent him spinning across the floor,
the sword lost from his hands. He stopped only when his legs struck the
base of a pillar. Everything from the knees down screamed in pain as he
came to a slowed stop.
	"Shimatta," he muttered, struggling to get back up to his feet.
His body was going limp and begging not to be used any further. Yet if
he stopped moving now he was dead for certain. "I just picked the wrong
night to be at the Shinto shrine. And for what?"
	For love?
	For a maiden who already had a shining knight?
	The entire atrium danced in shades of red, orange and yellow, the
glow being cast upon him. In that moment a strange calm filled his
body, accepting the inevitable. At least he had been able to go out
like this: fighting and not begging for mercy.
	The inferno struck.
	He screamed as the fires engulfed his body, and all was lost in a
blazing white light. Somewhere out there he could hear someone cry out
his name:
	"KARASU!"


	Oblivion.
	Simply floating in a darkened ocean of starless nights, uncertain
of which was up or down, uncaring to which way was rightfully up or
down. Tired crystal blue eyes stared blankly at the expansive nothing.
	"I must be dead," he whispered, clenching his fists. "So this is
what it's like to be dead."
	"Hardly," came a response, a voice that was strangely foreign yet
chillingly familiar. "That last life and death situation caused your
magik to explode for a split second. Think of it as instinctive
preservation; you cannot incinerate a ghost."
	He tried to figure out which way was indeed up, hovering there as
another figure emerged from this expansive nothing that could only be
oblivion. His jaw dropped at the young man standing before him.
	Now he recognized the voice: it was his own. And the one who
spoke it was himself. Like staring into a mirror, he faced off against
his own image--but this one wore a silver cloak over his back.
	"You...you're me," he said. "M-Masaka! How is that possible?"
	Whatever sanity he knew to possess was reeling around this place,
and he felt as if his mind was being slowly crushed. Nothing was making
the slightest shred of sense.
	"Listen to me Karasu," his other self said loudly, its voice--his
voice, their voice--echoing across the darkness. "We are one and the
same, born of the same magik but separated by different lives. You are
Kageno Karasu, an ordinary high school student. I am the Wanderer:
immortal lost soul, prince of the Silver Moon and older brother to
Princess Serenity."
	"And Princess Serenity is who?" he cut in. Damn it all; what was
going on? Was this another psychotic dream? If so then he prayed that
he would definitely forget it upon awakening.
	"Your confusion is understandable," the Wanderer said, removing
the shades.
	He gawked as very familiar crystal blue eyes looked down at him.
"Well," he admitted. "At least in both lives we're good looking."
	The Wanderer grinned. "And sharing the same sense of humour, no
less. But now is not the time to enjoy lives past. Karasu, the Master
of Illusions inside of you must be resurrected. Setsuna showed me of an
impending revolution which threatens both our worlds. This is simply a
prelude. It is time to continue the eternal battle once more."
	"Now who in the hell is Setsuna?" he exclaimed, shaking his head
and rubbing his temples. "This is just too bizarre. I feel like I'm in
a really warped dream."
	The Wanderer cracked a dark smile. "You have no idea."
	Suddenly he was kneeling before the exposed roots of a tree,
staring into the hole at a terrified young girl with long, dark hair.
	"Komban wa."
	His eyes widened, palms clenching. This was a memory he was
reliving. A real memory! "Hai," he said. "I remember this...."
	The odango-haired blonde crying out his name as he was swallowed
up in a blast of magik that had come the Shadowqueen. Taking a hit from
the blak sorcery of the resurrected Mistress 9. Tending bar at an
eternal midnight masquerade dance. Countless realms explored and mapped
within his mind. Launching one final illusion to save his little sister
before he was swallowed up by the mysts, thus becoming a lost soul.
	These memories were all belonging to him. These were his true
memories. A golden light started to emerge upon his forehead as he
slowly removed his shades.
	"I," he slowly said. "I am...."


	"Too easy," the mask-beast snarled, staring at the smouldering
remains of the atrium. It turned back, staring down at the two female
warriors still standing defiant against it.
	"Karasu," she whispered, feeling sick. Although they had fought
side by side before, he had just been a normal person. They had the
responsibility of protecting him, and failed.
	"He can't be dead," the tall, sandy-blonde said quietly.
"Karasu's never been able to find death--even if he tried looking for
it."
	"He's no longer immortal, Haruka," she replied. "The least we can
do is avenge him."
	"Believe me," Haruka growled, magik once more crackling around
them. "I intend to do just that."
	"Mortal fools," the beast snarled. "You cannot fight the
inevitable."
	Abruptly a familiar electric blue glow filled one corner of the
atrium, bolts of lightening arcing and dancing around pillars and
walls.
	"Masaka," she whispered. The only one who ever possessed such a
power was--
	"Lightening Strike!"
	The beast bellowed furiously as it was suddenly catapulted into
the air by the lightening strike, smashing through the wall and landing
in a heap inside the Gallery. From the epicentre of the electric blue
light emerged the Wanderer, the silver cloak now around his shoulders
and billowing out behind him. Arashi in hand, he stalked towards the
flailing creature.
	"Whatever you are," he snarled, eyes narrowed. "Get away from my
friends. Right now."
	The mask-beast hissed, snapping its jaws. Foam sprayed out amidst
rows of glistening fangs revealed in the moonlight. The mask became
contorted and grotesque, the beast's blazing red eyes glaring at him.
	The aura around his body snapped, dancing wildly around him. With
his power at full force there would be no backing down on his part.
"I'm in no mood," he stated icily. "Get the hell away, or else be sent
back there."
	Another glare.
	And the creature bowed its head, its form dissolving into thick
trails of black smoke that shrank back into another corridor.
Everything dissipated until the air was clean to display the ruins and
debris littering this end of the Sanctuary. For now, their enemy was
gone.
	He slowly turned back to her and the tall, sandy-blonde. "Haruka,
Michiru," he stated with a wry smirk. "The Wanderer welcomes you to
another war of magiks."
	"Impressive," Haruka remarked. "And here I thought you were dead.
You could have at least told us beforehand."
	The three of them moved back into the Gallery via the large hole
carved out by the mask-beast.
	He grinned uneasily. "I was bluffing," he admitted. "The magik of
the Silver Crystal can only be used by the ladies of the royal family,
and last I checked, I was a guy. That lightening attack was the only
one I could pull off, and the spectre will be ready for it next time."
	"Metalia doesn't know that yet," the DreamSeer said, emerging
through the hole, clutching a bloodied shoulder. "But once she figures
out you don't have near enough the power to destroy her, she will be
back. And in an even more temperamental mood than before."
	"Metalia?" Haruka said.
	She stiffened, realizing the implications of that name.
	The Wanderer, taken in with the surrounding devastation, never
heard that name and thus remained unaware. "What exactly was that
creature who attacked us?" he asked.
The wyvern descended from above, now landing on his shoulder rather
than on Morpheus'. Whether it was due to affection or because of the
DreamSeer's wound, none could be sure. It had remained hidden during
the battle, knowing that despite its wishes to attack, its size would
do nothing against the demon beast.
	"Komban wa, Fuu-chan," he said fondly.
	"It's an ancient evil from long ago, belonging to the Silver Moon
Kingdom," Morpheus said, wincing through the numbed pain. "She calls
herself Metalia."
	He glanced back. "Metalia? The one who caused the destruction of
the Moon palace? Shimatta...I thought she was supposed to have been
killed."
	"Karasu, can you use your art of illusion against it?" Haruka
inquired. That particular magik would very much come in handy if that
was indeed Metalia--and if Metalia was indeed as dangerous as the Inner
Senshi had said.
	He shrugged apologetically. "My memories are back, and with them
my storm furies," he said. "But as for illusions, I've still lost that
art."
	"The art of illusion should have returned with your old
memories," she pointed out. "One has origins from the other."
	He nodded. "I know. Maybe I got lucky and can live a normal life
without being a lost soul. My illusions got me into that mess in the
first place."
	"But you're not even close to being as powerful as before,"
Haruka countered. "Without your illusions your attacks are very
limited."
	"You're within the borders of my sanctuary," Morpheus said.
"Magik tends to work...a little differently here. It is entirely
possible that your illusionary magik is still dormant inside of you
despite the memories you now hold. Possibly due to your longing for a
normal life again, I should think."
	Morpheus placed a hand on the wound, and moments later the
healing process was complete save for a gaping tear in the fabric. "I
fear that will not be so when you leave. Your memories reborn means
that all your magik will manifest itself. If not in here at this moment
of time, then you will definitely have them when you return to Earth."
	"I take one foot outside and I'm a lost soul again," he muttered.
"There goes my last chance at ever being normal."
	"Personally I don't think you were ever normal enough to begin
with," Haruka remarked.
	"Gee, thanks," he said dryly.
	She chuckled quietly to herself; some things never changed.
	"So Metalia's still alive after all this time," the Wanderer
said, shaking his head as he played with the Arashi. "Usagi's not going
to like this one bit."
	"We'll take care of Metalia right here," Haruka cut in, glancing
around at the tattered battle zone. "I've got some payback I want to
exact."
	"And it wants this woman in the glass coffin, right?" he asked,
turning around to face the reason they all had been summoned here. The
old memories reborn had now given him new revelations. And with them he
realized who the woman in the glass coffin was.
	The Arashi fell from his grip, clattering on the marble floor.
"Masaka," he whispered, his voice hoarse.
	"Uh oh," Haruka muttered, hands crossed over chest. "I doubt
he'll handle this well."
	"M-Mother?" he said.
	He raced up to the coffin, pressing his hands against the glass
as if mentally willing it to shatter that he might touch a distant
memory once more. But nothing he could do could break the glass coffin,
and resignedly he drew back, hanging his head.
	She lowered her eyes to the floor. "Such pain," she whispered.
She suddenly wished for Haruka's warm touch, and was surprised when she
felt it. The tall sandy-blonde smiled at her; in times like these they
could almost read each other's thoughts. And she was glad for that.
	He turned to stare darkly at the DreamSeer. "What in the hell are
you doing with her body?" he growled. "Couldn't you have left her in
peace, after all she did to save us?"
	"You act as if I have betrayed her," Morpheus said sternly.
	"My mother died in sealing off Metalia's blak magik," he stated,
stalking towards the DreamSeer. "How could she still be alive if the
Silver Crystal drained her of all her power?"
	Morpheus stared up at the glass dome high overhead. "Queen Beryl
was a demon sorceress, whose power lied in necromancer magik."
	He backed down at that, understanding the importance of those
words. For a moment he remained still and silent before he walked
across the Gallery and retrieved the Arashi. "The magik of the demon
worlds," he said, staring down at the sword rather than meeting anyone
else's gaze.
	Morpheus nodded. "I hold little doubt that Metalia herself was a
demon called forth by Beryl. However, demons of that power rarely are
subject to the whim of their summoner. Metalia consumed Beryl, and
Beryl became her slave."
	Morpheus was making a saddened procession up to the glass coffin
now, fingers tracing the glass as two weary violet eyes longed for the
touch of the ethereal maiden laying in a bed of roses.
	"What does this have to do with the Moon Queen, and summoning us
here?" she asked.
	"Everyone who dies sleeps," the DreamSeer explained. "In there
many of us enter a realm not unlike the Dreamworld, where forever we
shall dance in our beautiful dreams. But Milady Selena is locked in a
dreamless sleep, her soul trapped inside oblivion. This is the sorcery
of the Empress Metalia."
	He slowly turned to face Morpheus. "Metalia's curse?"
	That was the name of the force responsible for annihilating the
Silver Moon kingdom, an evil that was finally sealed at the cost of
their queen, his mother's life.
	"How is that possible?" he asked. "Sailor Moon destroyed Metalia
years ago. I was told about that battle."
	The DreamSeer's fingers ran down the surface of the glass. "Hai.
Before she was sealed off completely by the magik of the Silver Crystal
one thousand years ago, Metalia placed an incarnation of herself into
your mother's body. This final curse would keep Selena in an immortal's
dreamless sleep, thus preserving them both. And Metalia's powers have
grown enough that she can manifest herself once more outside of her
host's body."
	He retracted the Storm sword back into his hand, joining the
DreamSeer at the side of Milady Selena.
	"The Silver Moon Queen is now a prisoner, and without you I
cannot free my beloved, my wife. I am asking you for your help. I need
your magik."
	He recoiled, stepping back and suddenly on the defensive. "What
was that?" he demanded.
	"Karasu," Morpheus stated. "You have always known that Milady
Selena is your true mother. But it is my blood that partially flows
through your own, and it is a hybrid of our magik which you now wield."
	He shook his head, disbelieving and unbelieving. "But that...that
means I am your...."
	"My son," Morpheus answered.
	Silence fell upon the room, devouring any and all noise save a
chilling whisper of the wind and the frantic pounding of the Wanderer's
heart.
	"Son?" Haruka said quietly, looking to her.
	She nodded. "I noticed the resemblance in their eyes. They might
be of different colours, but within each of them there is that restless
spirit." She reached back and touched Haruka's hand. "I should have
seen it sooner."
	Yet he did not appear so easily convinced. Warily he stepped
before the DreamSeer, defiance in his eyes as he removed his shades. "I
have no memories of you," he countered icily. "I barely even look like
you. Even as a prince of the Silver Moon I never once saw you. How can
I believe you when the past tears your claim to shreds?"
	"He has a point," Haruka added, taking a step closer to the two.
But she held out her hand to keep the tall, sandy-blonde back; this was
a matter for the son and the father.
	"Feel my aura," the DreamSeer said, the magik now flowing across
the room. "Because you were born into the Earthen realm, your dominant
traits came from your mother. But the magik that is in your soul flows
from my own."
	Blue mists pulsated out at Morpheus' feet, lightening arcs
streaking through the thick clouds as they trailed around the
DreamSeer's body. This was storm magik; not the lightening attacks used
by the Jupiter Princess. No, this was magik born of the storm itself;
of clouds, thunder and lightening, crashing rain and pulsating
darkness.
	He turned away, making a move to leave the Gallery. "To hell with
this," he snapped.
	She obstructed his path. "Karasu," she said. "Please, let him
speak."
	His eyes narrowed, and what sounded like a low growl escaped his
lips, barely inaudible to anyone but her. All attention returned to the
DreamSeer. The wyvern settled down atop one of the pedestals, wings
folding into its body as it listened to one more story being told.
	And so, the DreamSeer began: "I am from what is called the
ShadowWorld, a sister kingdom to the Silver Moon. We exist on the dark
side of the moon, beyond the Sea of Serenity. And though our magiks are
alike, they are also different enough to create a barrier. That barrier
exists in the shadows. For seventy-six years our bordering realms are
cut off from one another, existing on different planes, and there
exists on the moon a black shadow. But on the seventy-sixth year there
is an alignment which gives birth to the ShadowWorld."
	"How?" the tall, sandy blonde asked.
	"Haley's comet," she answered for Morpheus. "It's the only known
comet that holds such a stable and predictable orbit in our solar
system."
	Morpheus nodded. "Bear in mind that the Silver Crystal holds
within it a power to prolong life and thus you are immortal, much like
being a lost soul. Time seems to pass normally in your eyes but it is
much slower for your body. With the coming of Haley's comet comes a
force of magik enabling our realms to coexist side by side with each
other for but one night. We of the ShadowWorld could communicate
psychically with the Silver Moon, but never through physical
interaction."
	The DreamSeer sighed, staring up at the midnight heavens shining
through the domed skylight. "I was once a prince in the ShadowWorld. I
was just as old as you are now when I encountered Princess Selena in a
psychic dream. We fell in love, and it was then decided that I would be
the one to become King of the Silver Moon."
	"The Silver Moon has no king," the Wanderer countered, his voice
as cold as ice and stone. "It never did as far as I can recall."
	"And this is the reason why," Morpheus agreed. "For what seems
like eternity, it has been the destiny of the Silver Moon Princesses
and the ShadowWorld princes to fall in love and marry. But the
ShadowWorld and all its inhabitants can only exist in your realm for
but one night in seventy-six years. Even if we tried to remain, we
would fade away like a dream. Your mother and I had but one night
together to touch and feel the warmth of our love in a physical and not
telepathic sense. And you were that result, Karasu."
	"That means you were seventy-six Earth years old when Usagi was
born," Haruka remarked. "Karasu, you're a hell of an older brother."
	"And yet I feel so young and vibrant," he retorted evenly. "It's
from all the walking I do."
	She smiled at their humour; at least he seemed to be holding
together. Apparently it had been a heavy shock for the odango-haired
blonde in discovering they were brother and sister in another life. And
yet Karasu was still placing distance between himself and Morpheus.
	His laughter hid his true emotions well.
	"Not quite," the DreamSeer countered. "You see...only a Silver
Moon Princess can marry a ShadowWorld Prince to preserve the ancient
Silver Moon magik. There can be no other way. And you were the first
prince to ever be born in this royal line. More than that, you were
ageing at the rate of a normal human being; the Silver Crystal was
somehow unable to prolong your life."
	His eyes widened and then narrowed, but he kept silent as he
listened. Yet with each word his grip around the shades tightened, his
knuckles turning white.
	"Karasu?" she asked. All control was slipping through his fingers
and she could see it in his eyes.
	"Karasu," Morpheus said gently. "I know this is hard enough for
you, but please listen to what I say now, no matter how much it hurts
you. Many of the memories you have of growing up and ageing with the
rest of us are from an illusion made by your sensei. It was the only
way we could twist the continuum and give you a sense of belonging. You
saw everyone as ageing from year to year like you. In truth, Usagi was
still just an infant by the time you became a lost soul."
	He turned away, shadows hiding his face from them all. In growing
rage, his body quivered. "What are you saying?" he demanded in a low,
menacing tone. "That I was a mistake? That my I can't even trust my own
memories, the ones that brought me out of that false life on Earth?"
	And then the shades were crushed in his fist, the shattered
remnants of the lenses falling to the ground. Finally all the pent-up
rage exploded. "Is this all that I am?!" he exclaimed. "A mistake in
every sense of the word? Something destined to be damned? What the hell
am I?! Damn you, tell me!"
	Suddenly the Arashi exploded from his palm, and he was upon
Morpheus in a heartbeat. He brought down the blade, turning the tiled
marble ground into a sloping crater. The entire Gallery trembled from
the force.
	She tumbled backwards from the shockwave, only to be caught in
the steady arms of the tall, sandy-blonde. "Careful," Haruka cautioned
her.
	"Is that all I am?" he demanded. "Am I just some goddamned
mistake?! Answer me!!"
	"I never said that," Morpheus replied, raising his own magik to
defend himself. "Karasu, your mother and I loved you as any child, but
because you were a boy, you did not hold within you the magik vital to
preserving the power of the Silver Moon."
	"So now it's my fault for not holding the magik of the Silver
Moon?" he shouted. "Better for me not to have been born at all then!
Damn you, Morpheus!!"
	He raised the Storm sword, ready to rake it down on anything that
might get caught in its path. Namely Morpheus, and behind the
DreamSeer, Milady Selena. Abruptly Haruka's firm grip seized his wrist,
holding him back from using the Arashi once more. Lost in his rage he
fought against the sandy blonde, but only the blade trembled between
them. The sword never moved.
	"Back down, Karasu," she stated. "Now."
	He eased up very little, fighting her as much in physical
strength as they also glared into each other's eyes. But Haruka was
never one to back down, and if it was a fight he wanted, then a fight
he would receive and not quickly forget.
	"Karasu," she said quietly, trying to soothe him. "It is no one's
fault. It was unexpected, and no matter how hard you may want to try,
you cannot change the past."
	He didn't respond.
	"Let him be, Lady Neptune," Morpheus said, sadness edged in those
words. "He has every right to be angry. His old memories have just
returned, only to be presented with their falsity. If he does not
accept me, I do not hold it against him."
	The made her heart burn even more. "Look at him!" she exclaimed.
"He is your father, Karasu! And you will bring no honour to your family
by striking him down like this. What would Usagi think of you?"
	Something registered in the back of his mind, and Haruka felt his
grip on the Arashi ease up. The weapon was sheathed, and he
straightened out the folds of his jacket.
	"Gomen," he said finally, coldly. "That was uncalled for. Now if
you will excuse me, I need time to be alone."
	And with that he walked out from the Gallery.
	"Karasu!" she called out, giving chase.
	The DreamSeer glanced over the sandy-blonde. "Aren't you going to
go too?"
	Haruka shook her head. "I've never been good at handling such
delicate matters. And I'm not about to destroy the friendship Karasu
has built with Michiru and I. Let Michiru handle this; I trust her."


	He was there, silently leaning with his back against a pillar as
he watched the tyger and its cub sleep. So peaceful the creatures
looked, and in watching them he could feel some peace to his own soul.
Crystal blue eyes glanced back at the sound of her footsteps as she
approached. Then he returned to watching the tygers. Regardless of
whether or not he wanted her company, she stood next to him, resting
her hand on his shoulder.
	"You have every right to be upset," she said. "After the life
you've been living, most people would have given up. But you have
always pressed on. Your strength is what has kept you going."
	"He is not my father," he snapped, pointing angrily at the
direction of the Gallery. "My father would never give me lies for a
past!"
	She shook her head. "You were open to him being your father; I
felt that. It's the fear of being unwanted that drives you to anger,
that from the very beginning you were doomed to be without a place to
belong, that everything you treasure has been a creation of someone
else's magik."
	He laughed bitterly, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.
"How would you feel if one day you woke up to discover that you really
weren't meant to be? My own memories have even betrayed me! I was
supposed to be a princess with the magik of the Silver Moon. And here I
am: someone trapped in a ghostly shell whose only friends are the
illusions he wields. To hell with this whole damn life."
	And then she did something she had never done before: she slapped
him across the cheek. It was not out of anger or outrage for his words,
but it was a strike of scolding. Up until now she had tolerated his
frustration, but he had just crossed a line.
	He never said anything in protest but simply blinked and stared
at her, dumbfounded.
	"Baka. How do you think Usagi felt when you told her that you
were brother and sister?" she asked, her tone still scolding him.
"Before she ever really had a chance to ask you any questions, you
disappeared. And when you reappeared, any answers you could have given
were gone with your memories."
	"Michiru," he said quietly.
	"Whether or not you noticed it, Karasu, Usagi was torn up inside
over that. It took her a long time to get used to the fact that she had
a long-lost brother. And the fact that you had been hiding it from her
didn't help. You never once reached out to her, as if you hated the
idea that you two were siblings."
	The tyger cub made a noise, rolling over in the arms of its
caring mother. White and black seemed to merge and shift, a beautiful
change to watch.
	"We have known each other for over a year now," she stated. "And
for all that time, I know how much your past haunts you. But now is the
chance to be released from those demons; they can no longer possess
you, Karasu."
	He drew out a set of intact shades from his inner jacket pocket,
looking first to the tygers and then to her. Everything was being taken
into account inside his mind. Nothing was left out. Very pennant and
silent, he covered his eyes behind the tinted lenses.
	"I've been such an ass," he said quietly, shaking his head.
"You're right, Michiru: I wasn't thinking back there. But every time I
seem to find answers about my past, the more I discover how much of it
was wrong. It's getting to the point where I can't trust even myself."
	She found herself smiling. "No one ever said the truth would be
painless. But now you have a father who is asking for our help to save
your mother, our former Queen. The question is: what are you going to
do?"
	He smiled back at her, hugging her warmly. "Arigato, Michiru. I
needed that."
	"The words or the slap?"
	He chuckled quietly. "Both."
	A deliberate and loud cough from the tall, sandy-blonde caused
them to split apart. Haruka sighed. "I leave you alone with my Michiru
for only a minute, and this is what you do in my absence?"
	Beside the tall, sandy-blonde stood the DreamSeer. There was a
strained moment as father and son looked at each other.
	"Father," he said finally, his voice neither cold or demanding.
"We need to talk."
	The DreamSeer nodded. "Come with me."


	The unicorn was a beautiful steed, even moreso up close than from
a distance. So much like the Dreamworld's Silvermanes yet bearing
differences that set the two apart. The unicorn had flowing golden hair
and an equally golden horn. And unlike the Silvermanes, the unicorn for
the most part appeared docile.
	"You really think you can have it give you a ride?" the tall,
sandy-blonde asked with a smirk.
	"Ara," she replied. "But I'm surprised you ask this after all
we've been through with the Silvermanes."
	"In case you didn't notice, Michiru, that's not a Silvermane."
	She held out here hand, silently asking for the steed to come
forward. The eyes of the unicorn seemed to glow, and it stood quiet.
"Hai, but isn't she a stunning creature?"
	She glanced over to the son and the father, who were together
watching from the gazebo. They were talking, though it appeared as if
both were too weary or brooding to emit any real emotions. Perhaps it
was simply a grim acceptance of that which could never be changed.
	Suddenly the unicorn was right in front of her, nuzzling its nose
against her palm. She smiled, stroking its neck. A quick glance back
found Haruka feigning indignity.
	"Show off."
	"We all like to be the centre of attention from time to time,"
she replied. "You're the one who enjoys flirting with Usagi and her
friends. Do you think this unicorn might replace you?"
	Haruka came up behind her, arms draped over her shoulders to
gently clasp her wrists. "Haven't we already had this conversation once
before?" the tall, sandy-blonde murmured, kissing her ear.
	She smiled. "That was in regards to a Silvermane."
	Haruka laughed. "Yare yare, Michiru. You win."
	She leaned back into the arms of her beloved. The horrific images
Metalia had given her were almost lost from her memories. They were
nothing but a means with which to scare her, and she did not frighten
all that easily.
	But right here, right now, she just wanted to feel the warmth of
Haruka against her. A caring embrace, a quiet kiss; all were a part of
the bond they had forged together years ago. She would never desert
Haruka. Not for anything in the world. She knew what love was, and
whenever she looked into Haruka's eyes she saw it, rugged and
dedicated.
	"What are you thinking about?" Haruka asked her.
	She sighed, looking up at the midnight heavens and its entourage
of starlights. "Dreams and destiny," she answered. "And the one I can
share them with...."


	"Interesting," Morpheus remarked. "Never before have I
encountered anyone who could tame a wild unicorn. And yet there before
me stands a girl who doesn't even have to ask to ride the steed."
	"She does it all the time in the Dreamworld," he said. "You
should see her on Silvermanes. Now that is a beauty to behold--but
don't tell Haruka I said that."
	"I noticed she's rather protective of Lady Neptune," Morpheus
agreed. "Some things never do change over centuries and lives once
lived. And some things are destined or doomed to be repeated over and
over again."
	The wyvern alighted his shoulder, squawking cheerfully. He smiled
in spite of his melancholic mood. "Hello, Fuu-chan. Did you miss me
while I was gone?"
	"You asked me to talk with you," Morpheus said. "Yet now you're
not saying much, Karasu."
	He sighed, his face sombre in expression, crystal blue eyes
hidden behind his shades. "The last memory I have of the Silver Moon
Kingdom was just before I became a lost soul. I saw Princess Serenity
and the other princesses running and playing in the palace. Later that
night, she walked in on my mistake and was nearly pulled in between the
two realms."
	Was that just an illusion too? Were all his memories just
illusions?
	The DreamSeer seemed to know what he was thinking. "Gomen nasai,
Karasu. But there is nothing any of us can do; the illusion has made
those your true memories. They were as real as we could make them for
you; I fear what you might have done then if you discovered you were
very different from the rest of everyone else."
	"I am different," he stated. "By blood, by magik, by my past and
by my circumstances. I can't say I'm sorry for being who I am, or what
I've become. But when I just think I've come to understand everything
about my life, something like this happens to walk along."
	Morpheus sighed, saddened too by this burden. "Princess Serenity
was but a baby when you were ripped from our world. That is why she has
no memories of you; you were not there to see her grow up."
	He thought back to his time in between realms as a true lost
soul, without illusion or magik to help him. Time was already so much
amok in his body, it must have been even moreso in that duration.
Perhaps those ten years were actually a hundred or even five hundred.
Even Okami would have been led astray by the illusion of time locked
inside of him.
	"Can't I tear down the illusion?" he asked.
	Morpheus stared out at the unicorn. "No. Those memories have so
firmly become a part of you that if we were to remove them, your mind
would be torn apart in the process."
	He stared out at the courtyard.
	The unicorn was nuzzling its nose against her cheek, passive and
very obedient to her touch, her every silent command. Such elegant
control over such elegant creatures.
	"I always thought the past was a ghost that kept coming back to
haunt me in my wanderings," he remarked, his voice passive yet
somewhere deep down bitter at the idea. "Now those ghosts are nothing
but figments of someone's imagination."
	"You don't seem all that upset," Morpheus observed.
	He nodded. "Michiru drove some sense back into me." He turned
around and sat on the railing. "Hell, my world's been so thoroughly
twisted as it is, the shock is nothing entirely new to me."
	The wyvern spread its wings and dropped down between the two of
them, its small clawed feet wrapping around the railing. It looked from
one to the other, hoping for some attention despite knowing what they
were discussing. Nevertheless, he stroked the creature's chin.
	"If you were only allowed into the Moon Kingdom once every
seventy-six years, how was Usagi born?" he asked.
	"I broke the rules," the DreamSeer said solemnly. "Though I knew
I was sentencing myself to certain doom, I sought out the greatest mage
the ShadowWorld had to offer. And with her magik I was able to defy the
seventy-six year law and appear for one night.
	"A respective ten years after you were conceived, Princess
Serenity was born. I had but one night with her, Karasu; one final kiss
good-bye with Milady Selena. And I knew that I was surrendering myself
to never see any of you again, never to share a dream with my family.
In breaking the laws of magik I would become a drifting ghost, a
variation of the Dreamworld's lost souls. I was without touch or
unspoken bonds."
	"But you're still here," he said, leaning back.
	He laughed. "True, Karasu; very true indeed. Only by the magik of
a master of illusion in Earth's realm. He was the very same one who
crafted your childhood and then taught you to become a master of
illusion. He sought me out."
	"Is that why I became a master in so short a time?" he asked.
"Because I already was part illusion?"
	Morpheus nodded. "Hai. But that was just half of it; the rest was
from your own lineage, Karasu. The Shadow magik of the ShadowWorld
works like Earth's illusionary crafts. Your childhood illusion was
designed to reshape your memories as each day came along. You were not
simply given a set of recollections; in a way you helped create your
own.
	"The illusionary master used his powers to bring my soul out of
limbo, and together we created this sanctuary. He was your sensei when
you trained in the arts of illusion."
	Morpheus stared out into the night, reliving the memories apart
from the words told to them. The young man was existing just like him
in that sense; perhaps blessed and perhaps cursed with a warped version
of immortality.
	Strange how the family legacy seemed to continue.
	"But," Morpheus continued. "he was only able to free me after the
Silver Moon kingdom had been destroyed by Metalia and Beryl. At first I
was ready to surrender to death again, to never feel again, but then I
discovered Milady Selena. And I vowed to protect her, and any other
magiks still alive before they were destroyed forever."
	A cold wind swept through the courtyard, the grasses rippling in
waves of green and white to the whim of the gales. Out beyond, an
agitated unicorn reared up and kicked its front legs. He slowly turned
his head, taking the shades away from his face.
	Morpheus stiffened. "Destiny, Karasu. It binds us all together so
that we are never truly apart. You must remember that above all."
	He glanced over to the wyvern. "Stay away, Fuu-chan. This
encounter won't be pleasant." The wyvern nodded and took to the skies.
	"Metalia has returned for us," she stated, drawing up to the
gazebo.
	Alongside her, the tall sandy-blonde cracked a few knuckles.
"Well then, let's not disappoint her."


	Milady Selena continued to sleep a dreamless sleep, the bed of
roses undisturbed and the glass coffin untouched. Indeed there was an
eerie lull as the four walked into the Gallery. Magik had restored the
broken walls and arches of its own accord, but the question was now how
long before they were broken again.
	Each one walked beneath a different archway that surrounded this
central gallery. They moved each to a corner of the Gallery, auras
crackling with magik. The DreamSeer's shadow powers were twisting
around the young man like a snake of pure, black wind. The tall sandy-
blonde, clad in a sailor battle fuku, gripped a mystical sabre. The
Wanderer removed his shades and tucked them into his inner jacket
pocket, knuckles almost white around the Arashi. And she, dressed in
her own sailor fuku, prepared to unleash the furies of the oceans.
	The demon was waiting for them.
	A flowing hooded cloak with but a ghost inside, face but a pale
white mask, watched each one take a position at the four corners of the
Gallery. This time the mask was suspended of its own accord before the
black essence that might have been a face.
	"Is this my last chance to go peacefully?" the voice of Metalia
taunted them.
	Karasu shook his head. "Iie," he said coldly. "We end this here
and now. My mother tried to destroy you once, and so did Usagi-chan."
	"We will not allow your evil to plague this world ever again,
Metalia," Morpheus stated.
	The mask's white lips curled up in a gleeful smile, the cloak
beginning to bulge out once more. Suddenly the cloth was torn apart as
the demon-beast emerged for a second time. Raising its head to the
ceiling, it let out a bellow that shook the Sanctuary's foundations.
 	There was no need for any further encouragement; they all
attacked as one. Shadow magik merged with storm magik as the powers of
earth and ocean converged upon the hideous black form of the beast.
	"Bakatachi!" the demon exclaimed, spreading out two monstrous
wings that sent up a whirlwind to push them back. "Your magiks are
useless against me!"
	Suddenly the beast's belly pulsated, and out spilled a writhing
mass of black tentacles, each one armed with a barbed point at the end.
The legion of tendrils instantly scattered, launching themselves in
every direction.
	"Look out!" Haruka exclaimed, leaping across the floor to grab
her by the waist and carry them both out of harm's way as two tentacles
smashed into the floor behind them.
	She smiled. "Now who's a show-off, Haruka?"
	The tendrils also attacked the son and the father.
	He worked his way through the worst of them, savagely cutting
apart any that crossed his path of summoned magik. Yet he was still
just a normal human, and the Arashi's magik was draining his physical
energy.
	"Karasu, watch your back!" Morpheus shouted, spinning around and
levelling a blast of Shadow magik that splattered a threatening tendril
onto the nearest wall.
	He winced; that was too close for comfort. "Arigato."
	Abruptly the floor beneath him buckled, throwing him backwards.
He grunted as he landed on his back, the Arashi lost from his grip and
spinning across the marble floor. His eyes widened as out from the
cracks emerged a new legion of tendrils.
	"Shimatta!" he hissed.
	The tentacles stared down at him, seeing his body without needing
eyes. And then the central one lunged for him. He recoiled, turning
away his head as he braced himself for the final blow.
	And then the DreamSeer was right in front of him, unleashing one
last volley of doomed magik. A sickening sound echoed across the
Gallery as the black tendrils punched through the DreamSeer's chest and
out the back. A spray of crimson droplets splattered his face, the arc
reaching all the way to decorate the glass of Milady Selena's coffin
with scarlet.
	"Morpheus!" she shouted, destroying another tendril with the Deep
Submerge attack.
	The long auburn hair of the DreamSeer fluttered in the air as
Morpheus collapsed onto the ground. The tendrils retreated, having
finished their task.
	He threw himself beside his father, brushing away some of the
hair from the Morpheus' face. "I-Iie," he stuttered, unable to speak
anything else.
	Morpheus gave a weak smile, the laboured breaths growing further
apart. "Karasu," the DreamSeer said. "The magik is only there if you
want it. Do not let Milady Selena be consumed. My son, I...."
	The DreamSeer's violet eyes closed for the last time.
	"Iie," he exclaimed, unable to believe his senses. "Damn you,
Morpheus, you can't die! Not when I have so many questions left!"
	His entire vision danced with hues of red, orange and yellow.
Turning his head he saw the demon-beast breathe a raging stream of
fire. There was only time for instinct, and he leaped aside as the
flames burned Morpheus' body.
	Catching the edge of the blaze, his jacket sleeve burst into
flames. He shouted as the flames licked his suit, and frantically
slipped out from his jacket. Two crystal blue eyes glared up at the
demon-beast. A second blast of rampant inferno struck him, yet he held
his ground, eyes unfazed and unforgiving. The flames swallowed him up,
and he became lost within the crazed dance of the burning pyre.
	"Shimatta," Haruka hissed. "What's happening now?"
	She shook her head. "I don't know, Haruka. I really don't know."
	Haruka kept a poker face. "That's so unlike you."
	Then there he was, slowly walking out from the blaze. Untouched
by the flames and smoke, he stalked towards the demon-beast. Yet as she
watched him she could see that a part of his back was scorched, the
white dress shirt smouldering black. But it was no mere burn; these
scorch marks were made in resemblance to a character or a rune.
	"You bitch," he snarled, the crescent moon shimmering on his
forehead. "Usagi-chan thought she had destroyed you once. Now it's my
turn to finish what she started."
	"I've never seen him this enraged," Haruka said quietly.
	She nodded. "But I fear the price for that rampant magik was too
high."
	The white mask snapped its grotesque jaws at him, throwing about
foam and spit. "Son of the Silver Moon," it growled. "After you die,
your little sister, who has caused me so much pain, shall follow."
	"You will never hurt my family again!" he roared. "I will never
let you leave this place alive!!"
	He brought down the Arashi, unleashing a wave of storm magik that
tore up the floor and collided with the beast and its army of writhing
tentacles. The demon-beast grunted, nearly losing its balance. But it
recovered very quickly; he shouted as the tail smashed into his side,
throwing him into a pillar. The blow was not enough to send him
crashing through the column, but enough to crack the stone. He gave a
choked gasp that was muffled by the sound of his body striking the
pillar.
	"Karasu!" Haruka exclaimed, whirling at the demon-beast. "Damn
you, Metalia!"
	The tall, sandy-blonde brandished the Space Sword and charged,
levelling a series of small fireballs at the creature. The attack held
little effect, yet Haruka continued the assault.
	"Haruka, watch out!" she shouted, closing her eyes and summoning
her own magik. "Deep Submerge!"
	The ball of crashing water became Haruka's escort, burrowing into
the side of the beast as Haruka tried to tear it apart with the sword.
Yet this was to no avail; the beast's skin merely trembled upon being
struck. Nothing was cut.
	"Pathetic," the mask hissed, swatting the tall, sandy-blonde
aside.
	Haruka spun around in the air, landing perfectly. But then the
floor began to buckle, the tiles cracking apart and catapulting Haruka
towards the beast as a mass of black tendrils rose up from the broken
floor to give chase.
	"Haruka!" she cried out, watching as the tall, sandy-blonde was
lifted into the air and then impaled by a thick, barbed tendril. She
felt her own heart nearly burst as she watched Haruka give a strangled
cry, mouth agape to spew out a wave of blood.
	Still impaled by the tendril, Haruka limply dangled as the demon-
beast cackled. "Is this the power of the Sailor Senshi?" the voice of
Metalia taunted her.
	The tendril whipped around, flinging Haruka onto the floor. She
screamed out and raced to the tall, sandy-blonde's side, heart beating
frantically inside her chest. The river of blood already around Haruka
told her it was too late to do anything.
	"Haruka!" she screamed, kneeling down and taking Haruka's hand in
hers. "Haruka, don't leave me!"
	"I told...you," Haruka whispered through laboured breaths. "I
swore nothing would...ever happen...to you so long as I...I lived."
	The tears were starting to course down her cheeks as she cradled
Haruka's head in her arms. "Baka," she cried. "What good is it if
you're not here with me?"
	"Destiny...has always...found a way," the tall, sandy-blonde
answered softly, weakly squeezing her hand. Then the grip went slack,
and Haruka's arm dropped to the marble floor. The spark of life within
the blue eyes of the tall sandy-blonde faded.
	Haruka was dead.
	"Haruka," she whispered again, unable to control the flow of
tears. Any rampant noise from the battle became silence to her, the
memories of the past bringing them to this point nothing but grey mist
of forgetfulness. Haruka was gone, and nothing could bring back her
beloved soulmate.
	"Baka," she scolded one last time, caressing her cheek with the
tall, sandy-blonde's palm. "I love you."
	Suddenly she gasped, her body lurching forward as an unseen
tendril punched through her chest, her own blood now mixing with that
of the tall, sandy-blonde's. There was but a moment of pain followed by
an eternity of silence.
	The tendril retracted, and the demon who was Metalia threw back
its head to unleash a triumphant bellow.
	"Wait!"
	The Wanderer's shout caused the demon-beast that was Metalia to
pause. He was slowly making his way back towards the coffin, cradling a
dislocated shoulder and limping, a leg cut apart and glistening with
blood.
	"Yare yare," the mask said indignantly. "You mortals are so
tenacious when it comes to clinging to this thing called life."
	"You'll have to excuse our love for having a soul to go with it,"
he retorted. "The battle's not over yet, Metalia. I swear by my blood,
you shall pay for your sins."
	"You're certainly correct about your blood," the mask chuckled
with gleeful decadence.
	Blood spurted out from his mouth as four small tendrils burrowed
into his back. The force of the impact sent him tumbling forward, his
body striking the floor where he laid, still and unbreathing.
	The low, rumbling laughter of Metalia filled the silent Gallery.
For a time nothing but the echoes drifted through the halls of the
Sanctuary. The towering beast collapsed upon itself, replaced now with
the form of a woman who resembled that of the once powerful demon
sorceress, Queen Beryl.
	A hand reached up for the pale white mask covering the face and
slowly removed it. The woman's features might have resembled that of
the deceased demon-sorceress, but the face was that of pure, unbridled
evil.
	"Milady Selena is now mine forever," the demoness stated. "And
the earth shall soon follow."
	And then came the applause.
	Slow, deliberate, darkly sarcastic applause.
	The demoness Metalia whirled. "Who's there?"
	The Wanderer was standing once more, the two female soldiers at
his side.
	"Masaka," the demoness snarled. "None of your magik could have
saved you from my dark powers!"
	"None of the magik that you know we have," she stated.
	He laughed quietly, sadistically as he reached into one of the
bloodied holes in his chest. Fingers moving about the gore, he pulled
out a small, crystal sphere.
	An illusion.
	The rune of the lost soul burned fiercely upon his back, and with
it the hidden magik. The Wanderer had returned. "Shin'ne," he stated
coldly, closing his fist around the illusion.
	The orb shattered, and with it everything around the demoness.
Metalia shrieked as the Gallery splintered, cracking apart and being
dashed into a thousand pieces. Seconds later Metalia's own form,
trapped within the illusion, shattered apart.
	Within the walls and arches of the real Gallery, the Wanderer
stared down at the remains of the crystal orb which had moments ago
subtly trapped the demoness Metalia. In destroying the illusion, he had
destroyed whatever was inside of it.
	"It's over," Haruka stated with a relieved sigh.
	He nodded. "If my desire to protect Usagi wasn't this strong, I
don't think I would have ever regained my art of illusion in time.
I...I only wish my magik had returned before Morpheus was killed. There
was so much I wanted to ask him. My father...."
	The Gallery was dimmer now despite the skylight and enchanted
lanterns. The violence and destruction it had just witnessed was
leaving its mark. In time the room would heal itself. Time, in its
infinite eternity, would heal all wounds.
	She looked up to the moonlight, closing her eyes and running her
fingers through her wavy, aqua-green hair. And as she opened her eyes
again a small spark of light drifted down past her face like a
snowflake.
	It was raining down sparkles of shimmering light, each one
flickering with an array of rainbow colours in the blink of an eye.
Amidst the glittering night surrounding them, the light of a full moon
was reflected off a crystal sphere that bounded along the marble floor.
Once it had been the illusion that had preserved Morpheus' existence
outside of the ShadowWorld.
	"Arigato gozaimasu," the DreamSeer's voice whispered. "You would
have made your mother proud on this night. Do not forget the magik that
has made you who you are. My beloved son...."
	He slowly closed his eyes, his hands clasping the single crystal
illusion as it bounced into his grasp. Everything that had been
Morpheus was now appearing before him. He witnessed incredible realms
of magik that only earth could forge, of the construction of the
Sanctuary. His father's magik was now becoming his.
	Within that world he saw the child Serenity as a little baby, in
tears and in laughter. For a brief, shining moment the memories he knew
were pushed back, and he saw the Silver Moon Kingdom as it once was.
	And it was so beautiful.
	"Arigato, Father," he whispered.
	Thank you....
	The magik was not just being kept to him, though. The two female
warriors were also receiving the last magik of the Silver Moon
Kingdom's last ShadowKing.
	"What is this warmth?" Haruka asked, eyes closed in accepting the
winds of new-found power.
	"A new magik is being forged within us," she answered, her own
eyes closed. Such a warm feeling, compassionate yet not without a force
that could rival any shadow.
	It was destiny that brought them all to this place, this
Sanctuary: three souls who would find a way to free Milady Selena from
a coffin of glass. But ultimately it was not their magik which freed
their queen; the magik that had once been of the DreamSeer's fell upon
the coffin.
	And as the light rained down, the coffin shattered. Glass
exploded outwards, littering the floor with tiny shards, leaving Milady
Selena untouched. Yet the queen still slept.
	Suddenly something invisible stamped onto the ground, crushing
the glass shards into dust. Another foot smashed into the floor,
leaving a footprint of fine powder. Something from the very shadows of
the Gallery trembled and surged forth, and a living human shadow rose
up. Its dark essence glittered with all the glass shards picked up by
its rising. Two blood red eyes from behind a pale white mask glared at
them all.
	"It's never over," the creature snarled.
	"What in the hell?" he exclaimed, raising the Arashi.
	"Did you forget how to properly use your illusions, Karasu?" the
tall, sandy-blonde asked.
	"You let your father sacrifice himself for nothing," Metalia
hissed, the thick black mass starting to swell and create another new
monstrosity.
	"Chikusho," he said. "Metalia resides in my mother's body. Her
life is the demon's essence."
	They all understood what had to follow. The only way to destroy
the demoness that was Metalia was to destroy Milady Selena. The Queen
of the Silver Moon would have to die.
	The tall, sandy-blonde took an aggressive step forward. "Michiru,
I'll need you to distract Metalia. I promise it will be quick and
painless."
	"Iie," he stated. "I shall do it."
	"Can you?" Haruka asked solemnly.
	He nodded. "It is the least I can do for them both. I was not
supposed to be, yet they loved me enough to hide me from the pain. I
may never fully understand, but I understand enough. Tonight both my
mother and my father shall find peace."
	The beast snarled, snapping its grotesque pearl-white jaws. The
monstrosity was growing in sheer volume, ready to block them from ever
reaching the bed of roses.
	"What about Metalia?" she inquired.
	He grinned. "I believe, Haruka, you had some favours you wanted
to repay."
	Haruka cracked a wicked smile as well as a few knuckles. "I was
hoping you'd say that."
	They stepped forward, raising their hands over their heads to
summon their own magiks. The earth trembled and the seas roared within
their palms, gathering force and power before being unleashed across
the Gallery.
	"World Shaking!"
	"Deep Submerge!"
	The spectre gave a shout of an incantation, dissipating each of
their attacks with a defensive swipe. "That never could stop me
before," Metalia sneered. "Why should it have any effect now?"
	Haruka smirked. "It wasn't supposed to."
	The demoness' face scowled. "What?" And then the meaning took
hold. Metalia spun around; the attacks had been merely distractions for
an illusion of teleportation.
	He stood over the coffin, Arashi in his hands. Milady Selena
remained oblivious to all this, locked in a cursed dreamless sleep.
	"Sayonara, my queen," he whispered, raising the Arashi over his
head. It took but one rapid stroke. Storm magik consumed the sleeping
form of Milady Selena in a heartbeat, burning the roses and scattering
their scarlet petals across the Galley.
	The host's power gone forever now, the demoness shrieked as the
creature dissipated like smoke to reveal the form of a mortal woman.
The woman began to fall apart, skin peeling off and writhing around the
rest of the body. The white mask on the woman's face howled, its shape
contorting and stretching as if it was melting like fine wax.
	She glanced over at Haruka. "Care to test out our new powers?"
	The tall, sandy-blonde nodded. "Love to. RUMBLE QUAKE!"
	"TIDAL STORM!"
Twin newborn attacks erupted from their auras, one of raging tremblers
and another of rampant tides. A golden glow wrapped around Haruka's
clenched fist, exploding into a series of ringed, triple beams that
intertwined in tearing apart the floor. In her own hands a geyser
became crushed into her fist, water spurting out between her fingers.
Seconds later it was released, and a crashing flood of tidal waves
smashed alongside the magik of the tall, sandy-blonde's.
	For one last, agonizing scream, Metalia lingered.
	The echo of the demoness' final howl died quickly as the creature
of evil was silenced. Black shadow was incinerated and torn apart, the
eyes exploding in a flash of crimson aura. As the magiks faded, all
that remained was half of a cracked, pale white mask. What was left of
the face was forever etched in the hideous discovery of oblivion.
	Slowly the Wanderer approached the mask.
	Then with one swift blow he crushed it beneath his shoe, grinding
the pieces into fragments. A whisper of a scream escaped the lips of
the mask before it was destroyed.
	"For my mother," he hissed. "And my father."
	All the euphoria from the past few hours slipped by, and he
showed signs of exhaustion. Too many truths and lies to face in such a
short time. A past rediscovered and then destroyed. And by staring into
death he had found life anew.
	"Daijobu, Karasu?" she asked him, resting a caring had on his
shoulder.
	He nodded, a weary smile on his face. "I just wish there had been
more time with him, Michiru. There were so much I could learn, more
about myself than anything else."
	"The more we know, the more unanswered mysteries we uncover," she
said.
	The odango-haired blonde had no doubt felt the way that he did
now, back in the aftermath of their battle against the Shadowqueen. The
question now remained as how much of this he would tell his sister. Of
their father. Of their mother. Of himself.
	He reached back and squeezed her hand. "But they're free now, my
mother and father. It would be dishonourable to disturb them for such a
request."
	She smiled, glancing over to Haruka. "And as for you, thank you
for dying to protect me. Even if it was an illusion."
	The tall, sandy-blonde clasped hands with her. "I told you I
would let nothing happen to you, didn't I?"
	"Hai hai," she agreed.
	The three warriors looked to the remains of the broken glass
coffin and its scattered bed of roses. Destiny had been fulfilled, and
one more Faery tale was coming to a close.
	A pale white light filled the Gallery, its source that of a now
brilliantly shining full moon. Wisps of magik appeared as the very
heart and soul of winds as a gentle rainfall of sparkling lights came
down from above.
	And there standing before them was the ShadowLord and the Silver
Moon Queen. For a moment they looked upon the three soldiers of magik,
smiling with souls at peace. He felt his mother's wintry blue eyes
watching him, and he remembered an ancient lullaby sung to him as a
child.
	The winds of magik swept around the two, and their spirits rose
up to ascend to the sky. For one brief, shining moment a host of raven
angels were there in the midnight skies, waiting for two beautiful
dreamers to return home once more. Together in each other's arms, king
and queen embraced and kissed. Their ethereal forms faded into the
night, twinkling lights all around them fixated into eternal
constellations.
	It almost surprised him as he felt something cool run down his
cheek.
	"You're crying," she said.
	His eyes kept watching the moon and its escort of stars. "Hai.
And I don't really know why."
	So maybe that was love after all.
	For centuries they had been apart and still managed to come
together even in death. Every last barrier had been broken down and in
the end, Milady Selena and Morpheus were in each other's arms.
	He touched his lips and gently blew one kiss out to his mother
and father. "Sayonara. May you at last find sanctuary...."


	Somewhere out there, the last unicorn roamed wild and free in a
courtyard that spanned landscapes. Somewhere out there a living chess
match was being played out by cunning queens and expendable pawns. And
somewhere out there, three souls of destiny and magik sat together on
the scattered rocks found at the base of a peaceful waterfall. The
downpour was not crashing or deafening, yet not a small and simple
trickle down the rocks.
	"So now what?" she asked, letting her fingers drift in the water.
	He shrugged. "I don't really know, Michiru. With my old memories
and magik back, I've restored my status as a lost soul. I can't stay
with you ladies in Tokyo."
	"That saddens me," the tall, sandy-blonde cut in with a wicked
smile. "Now I'll never be able to see how you handle getting mauled by
a mob of girls on Valentine's Day."
	He ignored the deliberate taunt. "As I was saying before I was so
rudely interrupted--"
	An indignant glare from Haruka.
	"--I can't go back to being an average high school student. At
best I can remain on Earth for a few hours. Looks like I'll be
transferring out again."
	"Usagi and the others will miss your company," she said.
	He nodded. "And I'll miss theirs. But then again, I'm in charge
of the Sanctuary; Morpheus left with me his crystal illusion with all
his powers and memories. They should be able to visit me on a more
regular basis now. It's somewhere between Earth and its Dreamworld."
	She glanced up at the skies as a familiar winged creature
descended towards them.
	"Fuu-chan!" he said, smiling as the wyvern perched on his
shoulder. The wyvern affectionately nuzzled its cheek along his, giving
a contented growl.
	"Looks like love at first sight to me," Haruka said, unable to
hide a grin.
	She chuckled.
	He rolled his eyes, unable to hold back his own laughter. "Domo
arigato gozaimasu," he said, placing his hands on theirs. "I don't
really know if I can repay you for what you did here."
	"We're friends," Haruka stated. "We're always there for each
other."
	The world around them was growing into a misty haze, swallowing
up the realm.
	"I guess it's time to go back home," she said.
	He nodded, reaching into his restored jacket and producing the
shades that always went over his crystal blue eyes. "Like every dream,
all Faery tales must come to an end."
	The Wanderer was fading away into the mists, now his voice the
only thing carrying out to them.
	"Could you do me a favour?" he added. "Call up Usagi and the
others, and tell them I'm going away. I have enough power to appear for
one last day on Earth before I'm a Wanderer once more."
	She bowed slightly. "Hai."
	"Oyasumi nasai," his voice said. "And pleasant dreams."


	The rising sun of a February morning greeted them.
	Rays of brilliant ochre shone and bounced off the contours of the
Shinto shrine. Even the cobblestones were bathed in a golden hue. A
cool wind was blowing, and somewhere out in the trees beyond, the
morning birds were celebrating the birth of a new day.
	Had it all been a dream?
	Was this now all a dream?
	Either way, she hoped it would never end. Her body was tingling
from the powers given by Morpheus, embodied by the touch of the tall,
sandy-blonde as they laced their fingers together.
	"Arigato, Haruka," she said quietly, resting her head against
Haruka's shoulder.
	The tall, sandy-blonde looked into her majestic, aqua-green eyes.
"For what?"
	"I meant what I said back in the Gallery," she said. "Even though
it was just an illusion, you protected me at the cost of your own
life."
	The tall, sandy-blonde squeezed her hand. "I know you would have
done the same reckless thing for me, Michiru."
	She looked up into Haruka's blue eyes, and somewhere deep within
her soul she knew once more that here beside her was the soulmate she
had been searching for all her life.
	Haruka kissed her cheek. "For you, Michiru. I love you."
	The date was February 14th: Valentine's Day.
	True love knows no boundaries. It knows no calendars. It knows
not life nor death. It is magikal. And it is eternal, now and forever
more.

=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 9th Night: The Tale of the Pandora Box
Rated R


	Game:(n) 1.a: an amusement or pastime; diversion, play.
	  b: a practical joke.  2.a: a scheme or strategy
	  employed in the pursuit of an object or purpose;
	  course; plan; tactic.

				Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary


	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be brought to
life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for others
to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a
thousand dreamers and their dreams. And with it, a sanctuary not so far
from us where the last earth magiks reside. Within every soul lies a
story to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. They
belong in her embrace. But the Elven lord of Chaos, and his fated box,
belong to another, and they are of my skin and soul. I embrace his games
and his magik as my own children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their creators.
The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong to Naoko
Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a part of her
stories. But the realm of the last magiks of earth are a part of my own
story. Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles beyond the
moon, and my Elven lord belongs within the box that has entrapped him
for centuries.
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for your
requests if you wish for my characters to wander other worlds and other
stories.

		-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)
			http://neoharuka.interspeed.net/tales-dw.html



	"Lo! thy dread empire, Chaos, is restored;
	 Light dies before thy uncreating word:
	 Thy hand, great Anarch, lets the curtain fall;
	 And universal darkness buries all."

				-Pope, "Dunciad" (Bk.iv. 1. 649)


	"There is no right and wrong. There is only fun
	 and boring."

				-Fischer Stevens as The Plague, "Hackers"



	In every human heart there lies a soul.
	Therein lies our magik, and those of magik who captivate and
possess our hearts. For the time of watching a sunrise or catching a
glimpse of someone's gentle smile, these are the true memories that give
us hope.
	I speak of honour and courage.
	I speak of dedication.
	And I speak of love.
	They are all what bind us together with destiny's cords, where we
meet and then give our farewells. Sometimes for but a moment, and
sometimes forever. But regardless this magik inspires us to do what
could never before be conceived.
	It helps us fight. It helps us persevere. And it could make the
very face of stone weep if we willed it to. For within every human heart
there lies a soul of possessed magik. If unleashed, you can never know
what will happen.
	Sometimes all hell can break loose.
	Let me tell you a story....


	THE TALE OF THE PANDORA BOX


	Cool winds were blowing across the city, and as a thousand stars
shone overhead, so too was there an eerie reflection brought to life by
the lights of the city. Here amidst these lights did he stand, silver
eyes blindly watching the world below. Far below his perch upon the
lofty form of this tower, he could hear the faint sounds of cars and
people.
	"Tokyo," he said quietly, its name but a dedicated sound upon his
lips. The magiks of old were rising up again, the auras beginning to
crackle in the air. Soon it would finally begin.
	He had been there to see so many things of the past, and would
remain to see so many more things of future. Yet for all that had once
been and would one day become, he remained hidden from it all. A mystery
to even those who knew what the old enigmas meant.
	He was the Raithe.
	He rubbed his fingers together over a rose in his grasp, as if
sprinkling something unseen over the blossoming flower. The petals
abruptly rustled and expanded even further, the crimson shade becoming a
deep blue before turning a brilliant black. The Raithe cupped the rose
in between his palms, closing them together before opening up his hands
once more. And instead of the rose, a raven spread its wings and took
flight.
	The oldest of magics were always the most powerful, the most
alluring. Those who knew about the true Faery tales knew that within
those tales the only true magic to wield is that called "magik", the
purest form of power known to mankind. Such magik was almost lost
forever, so long ago.
	It existed now only as folklore and legends. While the world
flourished in science, magik fell into a dark and dreamless sleep,
perhaps never again to awaken. It was dulled into magic, a child's
fantasy. Today there was a new world with new wonders called technology.
Castles were now steel skyscrapers. The magik remained but a playful
story to lull children to sleep with. And those of honour and romantic
chivalry who were once the knights were all but gone.
	Save a few.
	"Sailor...Senshi," he said quietly.
	The Raithe glanced out to the sprawling expanse of the city, the
winds suddenly taking hold and blowing at his hair, his cloak. "Come out
from the shadows," he stated, still looking out at the midnight lights.
"It's rude to lurk uninvited in such places, Thanatos."
	The shadows behind him came to life, breathing and dancing and
utter darkness becoming a thousand tiny shimmering starlights. A cloak
cut from the midnight heavens fluttered along the ground, concealing the
soul beneath its folds. Two haunting white eyes stared out from the
darkness beneath the hood draped over the figure's head.
	A hand reached out from the folds of the cloak, pulling back at
the rim of the hood. Out from the depths of the shadows emerged a
grinning, lifeless skull. Hollow sockets stared out at the Raithe, who
had yet to face his guest. A second hand sifted through the robes,
fingers grasping at the grey bone.
	The mask was removed.
	"You seem as pensive as ever," the young man behind the mask
remarked. Thanatos' eternally enigmatic smile never faded. The skull
mask was tucked away as hands disappeared back into the folds of a cloak
of night. The ScytheMaster was handsome despite the jagged blue scar
running down the right eye. Long moss green hair was released of the
mask's hold, tumbling far down Thanatos' back before being swept up in
the winds.
	The Raithe stood and turned around, the ends of his black cloak
pushed away from his body to let dance in the winds. "There is much to
be silent about," he stated quietly. "Much that shall happen all too
quickly. Here is where everything gathers together."
	Tokyo.
	Some might have argued that its tower was the central point to the
city, the key to unlocking everything. Not unlike yet so different from
a tower of metal and steel in Paris, this Tokyo Tower rose above many of
the surrounding buildings to proclaim itself.
	A landmark to some. A gateway to others.
	The Raithe looked out to the city. "This is where it shall begin
and end."
	Thanatos walked across the roof of the tower's observation deck.
On the edge of the rooftop they stood, the ScytheMaster kneeling down
and watching the traffic far below. So many sounds and sights unlike any
other.
	"I had almost forgotten what it was like to feel the midnight
winds upon my face," Thanatos sighed, eyes closing for but one brief
moment.
	The Raithe nodded. "As much as I do miss the sprawling valleys and
forests once of this world, I have to admit that seeing this incredible
city of towers stirs something inside of me."
	Somewhere out there the magik was unfolding.
	He could sense the powers of the ancient world slowly overtaking
the emptiness left in the hearts of these enormous steel towers of
glass. And in the midst of it all laid the fragile heart of a young
princess borne of a world not so far away from this, and the ghosts of
the past that still haunted a solitary wanderer.
	The final events were at last being set into motion.
	Tonight would be the beginning of it all....


	He slept.
	It had been this way for almost one hundred years, and before that
almost for three thousand years. Time moved slowly here, and could be
either relative or arbitrary given the circumstance. Yet it continued
regardless, relentless.
	Liquid bubbles of deep blue surged.
	He was floating through a dream, wrapped in a strange cool myst
that kept his mind at ease. Frozen in magik he slept with only vague
recollections as bedside companions. So many strange images gone yet not
forgotten.
	Of an ancient world far above the skies, and its royal courts
alongside peaceful waters. Of the Earth down below, and its rolling
hills and sprawling castles. Of creatures beautiful and horrific,
greater and lesser. And above all this, there was the remnant of magik
within his memories.
	Once it had flowed through his blood, unleashed with incredible
fury upon his command. But that had been so long ago, and so long ago
meant it was but a vague image in his mind. There was nothing to
remember as he slept, and because he remained unaware he was not
bothered by this fact.
	Everything came to him as a distant dream.
	"Chibiusa?"
	Slowly his eyes opened, his mind roused.
	"Chibiusa?"
	What were these whispers? They echoed of a world outside this
place, of a world he had once walked through, breathing its air. That
seemed suddenly clear inside again. For a moment he opened his mouth to
sound out his name.
	The liquid bubbles surged once more. But the voices whispering in
his mind faded, lost. His eyes closed, and once more sleep fell upon
him.


	She was like a child once more, almost weeping at the beauty of a
Sanctuary so much like home in the far distant future. Long locks of
hair shining pink in the moonlight dangled past around her knees as her
rouge eyes gazed at the newfound realm. Not quite of Earth yet not fully
of the Dreamworld, it lived on the borders of sleep and awake. The
gatekeepers were ancient stone griffins who waited and watched for magik
to appear.
	"Sugoi!" she exclaimed excitedly, looking from one artefact to the
next.
	A parade of faery starlights twirled around her as she tried to
dance with their gliding movements. Her joyous laughter was lifted up to
the eternal midnight high above the glass skylights, and the moon itself
seemed to glow in response to her laughter.
	Keeping his distance to allow her the chance to experience the
last refuge of Earthen magiks, he smiled in keeping pace with the
Wanderer. Now bestowed with the title of DreamSeer by Morpheus' sphere
of illusion, the Wanderer was spending the forever nights here in the
Sanctuary rather than across the sprawling kingdoms of the Dreamworld.
	Behind them were the odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired
prince, arm in arm as they admired the beauty of a forgotten realm.
	"Incredible," the dark-haired prince said. "This looks so much
like the ancient Silver Moon palace."
	The Wanderer nodded. "Hai. I think this was Morpheus' chance at
finding some comfort over the centuries. Here was a place that reminded
him of home."
	The odango-haired blonde looked ahead. "Ah, Chibiusa! Don't run
ahead of us!"
	"Daijobu, Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince said. "She's not quite a
child any more."
	"I know," the odango-haired blonde pouted. "I just can't help it
with all we've been through."
	She had already raced out in front of them into one of the
atriums, ducking past the pillars. She came to an abrupt stop, mouth
agape as an enormous white tyger adorned with jagged black stripes gave
her a curious stare.
	"Don't worry," called the Wanderer. "She's friendly."
	The tyger yawned, uninterested in her as its tail twitched and the
tyger sauntered away on all fours. It had nothing to fear nor did it
have any reason to; if she was in the company of the Wanderer and the
DreamMaster, then all was well.
	She glanced down as she heard a mewing at her feet. The cub, its
black body adorned with jagged white stripes, stared up into her tinted
rouge eyes with its own big, smoky grey eyes. The little tyger was no
larger than a housecat and proved to weigh just as much as she lifted it
up in her arms.
	"Ah! Kawaii!" she exclaimed, giggling as the tyger cub playfully
licked her cheek. "He's a lot bigger in the future!"
The cub squirmed about in her arms, mewing in the hopes of finding a new
playmate rather than another coddle. She sighed, setting down the tyger.
	The DreamMaster smiled, kneeling down next to her. "I think you've
found a new friend, Chibiusa," he said. "I trust Diana won't be
jealous?"
	She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. There was nothing
said save for her pleasant laughter, and that was really all that needed
to be said. For between them was a love blossoming between worlds of
magik and beyond realms of time. In another form he had once been a
legendary Pegasus, a prince ruler of the Dreamworld. And she was a
princess from the distant future.
	Yet they had found one another through destiny and magik. And it
were these same bonds that would keep them together as long as they
continued to fight for what they believed in. Earth was still far from
seeing Crystal Tokyo. The Dreamworld was forever under the threat of the
Shadowqueen.
	He glanced over his shoulder upon feeling a nudge; the mother
tyger hoisted up his one arm with its nose, siding next to him. He
sighed, scratching the tyger's head. "Ara ara," he said. "You always did
know how to get what you wanted."
	After a few minutes of pampering, the very contented tyger
sauntered off to escort the cub across the atrium. Somewhere out beyond
this gallery was another that could provide them with a forest to hunt
in.
	"It's good to see them again," he sighed, thoughts at the past
memories. "I haven't been to the Sanctuary in almost two hundred years."
	"What do you expect?" the Wanderer replied. "You've been busy
lately. If not with the Dream Stealers, then with the Shadowqueen."
	He nodded. "Hai."
	Concern for his realm was growing as the Shadowdemon Empress was
making more aggressive conquests of the Dreamworld kingdoms. And with
his thoughts turning more and more to her, his maiden, it was getting
very difficult to think about the affairs of his realm. Therein laid his
greatest fear.
	Something heavy weighed down upon his shoulder, and he heard a
very familiar, playful hooting. "Komban wa, Fuu-chan!" he said, smiling
as the wyvern alighted his shoulder to nuzzle his cheek.
	"Had enough fun frolicking in the water nymph's fountain for the
moment?" the Wanderer remarked in a half-scolding tone. "You know how
much they hate you splashing water in every direction, Fuu-chan."
	Feigning hurt, the wyvern spread its wings and soared over to the
odango-haired blonde. The dark-haired prince held out an arm for the
wyvern to perch upon as it leaned forward to lick her nose.
	"That tickles!" the odango-haired blonde giggled loudly, recoiling
and nearly sending both the wyvern and the prince tumbling backwards.
And the odango-haired blonde continued to giggle incredibly even after
the wyvern had stopped, echoes of the laughter rolling across the
Sanctuary's multitude of galleries.
	"Where were you thinking of going next, Karasu-kun?" he asked the
Wanderer.
	Karasu shrugged. "I'm not really sure. The Jester of Fire and Ice
is nearby. He can put on quite a pyrotechnics display." And with an
additional sigh, added, "Rei-chan would love him."
	He nodded. "Sounds like fun. I trust you will be avoiding the
Pandora chamber."
	"Hai. If Morpheus' memories are as correct as I suspect they are,
I'll be steering us clear of that gallery."
	The two looked back as more laughter echoed across the Sanctuary.
Now it had become a rather childish game with the odango-haired blonde
trying to run away from the wyvern, who wanted to get more laughter from
its tickling tongue.
	The odango-haired blonde was tittering loudly, racing around the
dark-haired prince. "Mamo-chan! Tasukete!"
	"Usa-ko!" the dark-haired prince protested.
	The Wanderer gave him an exasperated glance. "The future queen of
Crystal Tokyo, ne?"
	He laughed wearily, the laugh trailing into a sigh. "H-Hai...."
Glancing back, his eyes searched for her beautiful form. Yet she was
nowhere to be found.
	She was gone from sight.
	He turned around, looking from one corridor to the next. Yet she
was already around a corner or inside another room. "Shimatta," he
muttered.
	For all its beauty, the Sanctuary also held devastating creations
of the darker magiks sealed away for humanity's safety. To let someone
unaware of the danger roam freely through the galleries was just
inviting disaster should something be unleashed.
	There was one force in particular.
	And they were close to its resident gallery....


	They came.
	The whispers came.
	"Chaos...."
	Slowly his eyes opened, deep green staring out at the distant
mysts that were his bed and pillow. Sometimes in this state of
hibernation he was roused only to feel heavy with groggy memories, and
then return to a more peaceful slumber.
	But the chorus of voices were persistent.
	"Chaos...."
	"Who's there?" he asked, staring out. Strangely enough, his mind
was beginning to clear. The faded memories of what might be called a
past were growing.
	The whispers returned: "Elvenchild, you shall be released. Be
ready...."
	He scowled, rolling onto his side in the hovering mysts. "If this
is you, Carnage, I'm not impressed. I can't be released unless the box
is opened. And I hate being teased about it. At least I didn't get
caught as fast as you did."
	Suddenly the mysts rippled, possessed of movement once again. Yet
this could only occur when the box was about to be opened. Shifting
magiks in changing times.
	He rolled onto his back once more. "Na ni?"
	"Be ready. The world will be once again yours to retake...."
	They left.
	The whispers left.
	"Chaos...."


	She swiftly moved down the corridor, oblivious to the voices of
her friends and family calling out her name. They seemed distant when
compared to the whispers in her mind.
	"Follow our voices...."
	There was a rounded curve to her left, and beyond that another
small corridor. The whispers prodded her that way. Before her was a
single chamber, a gallery split apart from the others and tucked away.
Yet it was still as serene and beautiful as all the others.
	"Sugoi," she whispered in awe. Why would such a place be so hidden
from the rest of the Sanctuary?
	The entire gallery was circular, sculpted from jade green marble.
Six red banners hung from six specific points around the gallery, each
one bearing golden runes from an ancient civilization. They appeared to
be almost resembling kanji, but despite that they were very foreign to
her.
	Her eyes followed the descending banners and saw the artefacts
this gallery housed: they were seven of the most beautiful chests she
had ever seen. Six of these elaborately decorated chests were seated in
carved-out exhibits in the stone wall, each one shining with a unique
display of jewels and foreign runes.
	Yet it was the central piece, the seventh and final chest atop the
black pedestal, that had caught her eye. Here there was no banner
bearing a golden rune. Instead there was a scarlet rune scrawled onto
the marble tile right in front of the pedestal.
	She approached, quiet; her footsteps barely even made an echo.
There was something strangely unique about this box. It appeared no
larger than a jewellery box, decorated with linings of gold and precious
gemstones. A sapphire caught her reflection, the face of a future
princess sparkling in over a dozen facets of the small gemstone.
	The whispers returned.
	"Open it...."
	Fingers wrapped around the curved lid, grip tightening.
	"What a beautiful box...."
	Her mind in that moment didn't quite seem to be her own. She
pushed. The lock pushed back for a moment.
	"Hai. Open it...."
	Her palm touched the sapphire, and something responded. There was
a brief flicker of some foreign rune upon the back of her hand, which
then vanished. The lock gave way, the sapphire beneath her palm emitting
a flash of blue light.
	And finally the lid shifted.
	"Hai...."
	"Chibiusa, no!"
	She glanced back at the shout from the Wanderer. "Hm?"
	But her fingers had already removed the lock, fated to lift the
lid of the box just enough for a rush of grey myst to escape in a cool
blast of air. Her long tails of hair fluttered around her as the grey
mysts cascaded off the pedestal onto the floor, swirling around her feet
and pouring across the marble tiling of the gallery. Like watching
liquid clouds.
	Everyone but her seemed to recoil as the surge of myst flooded
past their feet. The dark-haired prince protectively held onto the
odango-haired blonde.
	The Wanderer turned to him. "Is this as bad as I think it is?"
	He shook his head. "Iie. It's worse."
	A series of explosive bursts of light erupted from the open chest,
escorted by a storm of electrical arcs that seemed to channel energy
from the surrounding gallery. Green smoke with a hundred shades of
electric neon billowed out from the open chest, unleashing with them a
low, rumbling growl.
	The Wanderer's Arashi emerged. "Here it comes."
	And then nothing.
	Smoke dissipated, myst faded, the crackling energy sparked for one
last time before growing silent. The gallery grew unnaturally silent,
with but a stray draft causing their clothes to flutter.
	The wyvern gave a bemused hoot.
	"Was that it?" the odango-haired blonde finally asked.
	"Hardly."
	The response was not one of their own, coming from a new voice and
an unfamiliar mouth.
	For a moment she stood before the box, still shivering over what
she had done. A chill had swept through her body with that blast of
myst, and now she feared to turn around. But it was something she had to
face.
	A new figure stood in the entrance to the gallery.
	There stood a young man, tall and wiry in form, adorned with a
long-sleeved, Chinese-style outfit beneath a black vest. Two golden
rings dangled from the right ear, almost concealed beneath straight and
flowing hair that shone silver in the enchanted lanternlight.
	"Chaos," he whispered, summoning his own magik of the Dreamworld.
If this was a lull, then the storm was not far from following it.
	The ears of this newcomer were sloped, if not Elven in form. The
young man's eyes slowly opened, deep green focusing directly on him.
"Kon'nichi wa, Helios. I trust you remember me?"
	"Masaka," he said.
	"Who are you?" the dark-haired prince demanded.
	The young man smiled, giving a slight bow. "Permit me to introduce
myself: his lordship Chaos, at your service."
	"Na ni?" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed.
	Past and present were colliding in paradox before their eyes.
Chaos had once been a legendary force of pure evil that had nearly torn
their world apart almost one year earlier. That entity of Chaos had been
scattered in the wake of Galaxia's onslaught. Yet this figure before
them held claim to the same title.
	Chaos glanced over to the Wanderer. "You may be the DreamSeer, but
you are not Morpheus. Though I can see a slight resemblance between you
both."
	"He died a month ago," the Wanderer answered. "He was killed by
Metalia in order to free Milady Selena."
	"Milady Selena's gone?" the Elven lord exclaimed in disbelief.
"Damn, and here I was hoping to be the one to wake her up with a kiss."
	"Watch the way you talk about my mother," the Wanderer snapped,
storm magik starting to manifest itself.
	Chaos defensively waved in protest. "Ara ara! I apologize." And
then a dark smile crossed Chaos' face. "I was unaware I was in the
presence of royalty. But if I perceive your aura correctly, you're a
bastard son of the Silver Moon. Ne?"
	From behind the shades, the Wanderer glared with such force that
the pillar holding the chest was thrown into the wall. "What was that?"
	Chaos didn't even flinch, but rather kept that smug if not amused
grin. "Oh please, don't get self-righteous on me," the Elven lord said,
waving the growl aside. "I know perfectly well that any son born to the
line of the Eternal Moon is, for lack of a better word, unintended."
	The Wanderer fumed, but kept the anger in check. Having gone
through this once, it would be better not to let the odango-haired
blonde experience that rage.
	Chaos chuckled, ducking around a pillar.
	Suddenly the Elven Lord was right behind her, leaning on a
restored pillar and its beautiful box. She let out a startled cry,
recoiling. But Chaos snagged her wrist, keeping her there.
	"Ah, and you must be the pretty lady who released me," he said.
"Tell me your name, fair maiden, that I might carve it across this
Sanctuary as a token of my thanks."
	"Chibiusa!" the odango-haired blonde cried out.
	"Shimatta!" the Wanderer snarled, launching a crystal illusion.
	The Elven lord sighed, waving a hand to dispel the orb. But when
the wave of magik struck, the crystal erupted into dozen more, each one
zigzagging across the gallery. Chaos grunted as each one pounded into a
part of the Elven lord's body. Magik combined, the crystals grew into a
sphere that enveloped Chaos.
	She gaped at the Elven lord hovering before them, trapped within
the illusion. Chaos was pounding against the curved wall. "No fair! What
kind of petty sorcery is this? Fight like an Elven!"
	"I was going to put you back in the box," the Wanderer said icily.
"But my patience with you ended a while ago. Shin'ne...Chaos-sama."
	He winced as, with a snap of the fingers, the illusion holding
Chaos imploded, crashing into itself like shards of glass. The face of
the Elven lord contorted, crumbling and then dashed to fragments of
glass.
	"Tasukete!" Chaos cried feebly. "Tasuke--"
	With a final ring of shattering glass, the pieces of the illusion
fell to the marble floor. The shocked expression of Chaos faded from the
shards, which burned into ashes and small clouds of black smoke.
	The odango-haired blonde clung to the dark-haired prince. "How
awful!"
	"He deserved it," the Wanderer said coldly.
	"That may be," the dark-haired prince replied. "But was that
absolutely necessary, Karasu?"
	And then came the applause. Slow, deliberate clapping, each
applaud resonating with gleeful sarcasm. They all turned around, and the
Wanderer lowered the shades in stunned amazement.
	"Na ni?" she whispered.
	There sat Chaos, leisurely applauding them from one of the
buttresses atop the gallery ceiling. A dark smile crossed the Elven
lord's face. "Bravo!" Chaos exclaimed. "Bravo! Though I think the death
scene was a little overdramatic, it was spectacular none the less!"
	"How in the hell?" the Wanderer hissed.
	"Karasu," the odango-haired blonde quietly asked. "Has anyone ever
escaped your illusions before?"
	"Oh, why fuss over such trivial details as that?" Chaos cut in,
tumbling backwards. "Not when a greater event is at hand!"
	She gawked as the Elven lord made a graceful and effortless
descent onto the floor. And then upon landing, Chaos gave a playful wink
at her. It took a few seconds for her to realize she was blushing.
	"Good attack, DreamSeer--or can I call you Karasu?"
	The Wanderer's crystal blue eyes narrowed. "My associates call me
by the Wanderer. My close friends call me Karasu. And you're neither."
	Chaos sighed, glancing back at her. "Is he always this unpleasant
to be around?"
	She simply found herself blushing a little more, surprised.
	A genuine smile seemed to cross Chaos' face, and the Elven lord
gave a slight bow to her before abruptly meeting with Karasu's storm
fury attack.
	"Will you cut that out?" Chaos snapped, visibly annoyed. With a
wave of the hand, the Arashi's magik was dispersed. "That's it, Karasu.
I tried to be civil about this."
	Suddenly a shockwave swept through the gallery, rocking its very
foundations. Gales smashed into them all, winds with such force and
substance that they were pale grey amidst the air. The odango-haired
blonde screamed in the dark-haired prince's arms as both were hurled
backwards across the floor. Caught in the tempests, the wyvern screeched
before striking a pillar with enough force to knock the creature out
cold.
	Even he, a DreamMaster, was pitched back, neatly flipping over and
landing low to the ground before his feet managed to get a grip on the
floor.
	The pillars buckled and the marble stone cracked apart, debris
soaring into the corridor. The crimson banners were shredded as the last
surge of the wave crashed into the Wanderer. With a shout, Karasu was
tossed head over heels and flung into the wall.
	She remained untouched by the entire attack, standing there and
unable to say or think of anything. Slowly her rouge eyes turned to the
Elven lord.
	Chaos cracked a set of knuckles by moving about some fingers.
"Damn, I think I've gotten a little rusty over the centuries."
	"Daijobu, Usa-ko?" the dark-haired prince asked, helping the
odango-haired blonde up. A thin trail of blood was running down the face
of the prince.
	"Mamo-chan, you're hurt," the odango-haired blonde whispered,
trembling with concern upon touching the trickle of blood.
	"I'm fine," the prince reassured the young lady. But then the
prince stumbled, too weak to stand. It was then that the odango-haired
blonde felt the blood flowing from the prince's back, cut up from
shielding the future queen.
	"Mamo-chan," the odango-haired blonde whispered, starting to cry.
	Such pain the princess of the Eternal Moon was feeling. He had
seen this pain before, and at the time was powerless to do anything to
help. But not again. Now he had the magik to protect mother and child
together.
	"What is it you want with us?" he demanded, his own powers now
reaching a peak. The golden horn atop his head appeared, glowing with
the magik of the Dreamworld.
	Chaos chuckled. "Oh, I'm just here to play a game with you. You
cannot refuse; I guarantee it." And to emphasize the point, Chaos opened
up a palm to display the crackling magik of the Elven lord's aura.
"There is but one rule we are all held to."
	"Let me guess," the Wanderer said icily. "There are no rules."
	"On the contrary," Chaos countered. "I will hold us all to one
rule: the game is made up as we go along. Anything goes. Nothing is
forbidden. Really, DreamSeer, you are much too hostile for my tastes."
	The Wanderer growled but kept back, trying to anticipate the next
attack. Chaos' powers had made Karasu very cautious. "What are we
playing for?"
	A dark smile appeared once more. "Oh, a trophy, commercial
endorsements, the fate of your world: the usual." And then those
wandering green eyes fixed upon her. "But as for something a little more
tangible, I'll just take the girl who released me. A consolation prize,
if you will."
	She let out a startled cry as she was swept up into the Elven
lord's arms, desperately reaching out to someone, anyone, for help. But
all that seemed to haunt her mind was the laughter of Chaos. Not cruel
or harsh laughter.
	It was the laughter of someone enjoying a sport.
	"Usagi!" she screamed.
	The odango-haired blonde broke into a run, stretching out a hand
to touch hers and bring her back. "Chibiusa!"
	For a moment their fingers brushed, and it appeared as if she
might take her future mother's hand and grasp it tightly to be pulled
back into safe arms. Yet it was for only a moment, and a moment rarely
lasts forever.
	Abruptly Chaos pulled back, leaving the odango-haired blonde to
stumble and fall onto the cracked marble floor, still frantically crying
out her name. "Chibiusa! CHIBIUSA!!"
	He leaped past the odango-haired blonde, his Dreamworld magik
crackling in the air for an attack. Alongside him soared the Wanderer,
Arashi in hands once more. Once before he had nearly lost her, his
beloved, his maiden.  Within her dreams he had hidden himself, and it
was her magik that had so possessed his heart. And damned if he was just
going to let the Elven sorcerer take it all away.
	Suddenly they both struck a barrier field, hurled aside to crash
back onto the floor. The Wanderer groaned, now limping in rising up to
watch Chaos hover over them.
	His own eyes were fixated on her as she looked down. Their eyes
met. She was pleading with him to help; she was frightened and alone.
"Helios," she cried, reaching down to him.
	"I don't think so," Chaos countered, hoisting her back. The entire
sphere around the two began to flicker out of existence. Chaos was
leaving the boundaries of the Sanctuary.
	"Dammit, you don't need her!" he shouted after the Elven lord.
	Chaos laughed, flickering out of existence. "True, DreamMaster.
Very true. Let's just call this a matter of raising the stakes."
	"Usagi!" she cried out for the last time. "Mamo-chan!"
	"Chibiusa!"
	The sphere suddenly vanished, dissipating like wisps of cloud and
smoke. All that remained was the laughter of the Elven Lord: "Let the
games begin...."
	The odango-haired blonde seemed oblivious to the disappearance,
fighting to reach where she had last been before being stolen away by
Chaos.
	"Iie! Chibiusa! CHIBIUSA!!"
	"Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince said, trying to calm the girl
down. "Usa-ko, there's nothing we can do for her now. Chaos has her."
	The prince tried to hold the odango-haired blonde back, but the
princess' frantic struggles forced them to tumble backwards. The dark-
haired prince winced at the savage pain, and seemed weaker now more than
ever before.
	The odango-haired blonde gasped at the prince's pain, hands
clasped over her mouth. "Gomen ne, Mamo-chan," the odango-haired blonde
said through the tears. "I...I didn't mean to hurt you."
	"Chikusho!" the Wanderer swore angrily, taking a swing at a piece
of rubble with the Arashi. The sword's glowing blade neatly cleaved the
rock in two. "When I get that bastard, he is going to pay."
	"Daijobu," he said, staring grimly at the shadows where his maiden
had once stood. "It will do you no good to lash out like this after the
fact."
	He turned to the odango-haired blonde. "Chaos won't harm her.
She's not the one he's after."
	The odango-haired blonde reluctantly nodded, putting on a smile
regardless of the emotional turmoil within.
	"Who was this guy anyways?" the Wanderer asked, kicking at a piece
of broken marble tiling. "He sure had the power to tear this place
apart."
	He quietly walked over to the fallen wyvern, cradling the creature
in his arms. He could feel the wyvern's dreams; there was no sign of
injury. "That is his speciality," he said. "His name is Chaos."
	"The entity of darkness?" the dark-haired prince asked.
	He shook his head. "Iie. The only thing those two forces shared
was a common name," he explained. "He's an ancient Elven lord of magik.
Lord Chaos existed almost two thousand years before your mother's time
in the Silver Millennium."
	With a quick illusion the dark-haired prince was healed. The same
form of illusion revived the wyvern, who angrily shook itself to check
the bodily damage. One last illusion drew up winds of change that
rapidly accelerated the Sanctuary's restoration rate. The Pandora
gallery became whole again, save for the single opened chest in the
centre of the chamber.


	The Gallery was vacant now, with Milady Selena finally freed to
spend eternity with her beloved Morpheus. There was nothing left to mark
that event save the memories; not even a glass coffin was left behind.
Everything had been destroyed in the battle. Perhaps it was just as
well.
	Now the Gallery was just a large and majestic atrium, released
from its haunting ghosts. The ambience was not as weary and oppressed as
it once had been. Where marble floor surrounding a glass coffin once
stood, there was now a large and beautiful fountain. The waters covered
every last portion of the sunken floor, even swallowing up the last
descending steps.
	A few spouts of water were gushing forth from the mouths of
dolphins or else water dragyns, and the waters themselves were full of
small, colourful fish.
	He stared down into these waters, finding himself absently
watching the DreamMaster who looked back up at him. Did his eyes really
appear that saddened? A hand drifted across the crystal clear surface,
sending forth ripples that caused the fish to scatter.
	Arashi sheathed, the Wanderer leaned up against one of the
archways, saying nothing though the expression held enough words. The
odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired prince were seated at the edge
of the fountain pool, tresses of the girl's long blonde hair drifting in
the small currents.
	"It will be alright, Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince said quietly,
reassuringly. "We'll find Chibiusa for certain."
	Despite a tear-stained face, the odango-haired blonde nodded.
	He finally looked up. "There were seven Elven Lords who made up
what became known as the Court of Chaos. They once had original names,
but then took upon themselves what was called titles of Mass
Destruction: Carnage, Rampage, Mayhem, Hysteria, Havoc, and Riot and
Ruckus, a set of elven twins who occupied a single seat. Their leader-
emperor was Chaos."
	"No anarchy?" the Wanderer inquired.
	"Anarchy implies total and absolute destruction of order as we
know it," he countered. "The Elven lords are malevolent, even childishly
reckless at times, but they are not pure evil. There would be nothing
for them to do if Earth was destroyed."
	"Twisted logic," the dark-haired prince murmured.
	"But it makes twisted sense," the Wanderer grudgingly agreed.
	The last fateful images of her abduction by Chaos were still being
played through in his mind. He had been unable to help her when she
needed it, unable to fight against the Elven lord's magik. Was his
Dreamworld magik this impotent even here in the Sanctuary?
	"Helios."
	He looked up, feeling the gentle touch of the odango-haired blonde
on his hand. The girl was smiling, finding the courage inside to press
on regardless of what had already happened.
	"Arigato, Usagi," he said. And so he continued his tale:
	"Those in the Court were trapped inside Pandora boxes, enchanted
seals placed upon them. The only way to unlock such a box was by
combining three crystal seals called Imagika."
	"Imagika?" the dark-haired prince asked, glancing over to the
Wanderer.
	The Wanderer shrugged. "First time I've heard of this."
	He drew his one hand out from the water, letting the cool droplets
run down his skin. Somehow, perhaps if he stared just right into one of
the drops, he might catch her reflection from wherever Chaos had taken
her.
	"An Imagika exists inside the souls of those who possess magik,"
he explained. "It is the essence, the physical embodiment of their
powers. You and your royal court, Usagi, each have one. Having once been
of the Earthworld, I do as well--though the raven angels and
Shadowdemons do not. Even you, Karasu, despite being a lost soul, also
possess an Imagika."
	"Morpheus held a memory of Chaos in his sphere of illusion," the
Wanderer said. "He found that particular Pandora Box at the turn of this
century, and accidentally broke the seal. Chaos managed to get released
from his box and go on a small joyride."
	He nodded. "Hai. Your father searched out Illusion to ask for my
help. In that instance, Chaos was so thrilled to be out, he simply
decided to see the new world. He never even bothered to go after the two
other crystals. Now that he has seen it, he wants his old powers back.
One Imagika crystal is the lock itself to the Pandora box. It is
designed to use the summoner's magik against them to seal them inside.
Chaos regained his powers and that crystal when the box was opened
again."
	"So why does he need two other crystals?" the odango-haired blonde
asked. "Why did he have to take Chibiusa?"
	"He's not at his maximum power," Helios explained. "The Pandora
box split apart his magik, the core essence being the first crystal: the
lock on the box. Without it he and the Pandora box would cease to exist,
creating paradox."
	"So Chaos has only his essential magik left to use," the Wanderer
said. "Where does he have to get the other two Imagikas?"
	He looked up to the domed ceiling, watching the quiet moonlight
pour down overhead. Shades of blue danced all over the glass and stone
as the waters reflected the moonlight. "The second crystal he needs to
collect is found within the keeper of that particular box. Centuries ago
these boxes were handed down by loyal monks and Druid priests who
guarded them from outside forces. But over time the boxes were lost."
	"And found their way to the Sanctuary," the dark-haired prince
finished. "Karasu, if Morpheus made you the heir to the DreamSeer title,
that means Chaos will be coming for you next."
	The Wanderer smiled darkly. "Let him try. I've got a few scores of
my own to settle with him."
	"There is no real need to worry," he said. "What Morpheus gave you
was his entire sphere of illusion, containing his Imagika. There was no
merging or bonding between you. If Chaos manages to steal the Imagika,
it will be Morpheus' he takes."
	"Either way," the Wanderer stated. "That crystal is all I have
left of my father. I'm not about to let Chaos simply walk in and take
something that valuable to me."
	"What about the last Imagika?" the odango-haired blonde asked.
	He grimaced, already foreseeing the new conflict. "Chaos must seek
out the one who forged the Pandora boxes, and steal his crystal. This
was the ultimate safeguard to ensuring that if any force ever escaped,
their true powers would never be found."
	"Then we had better find whoever created these boxes and warn
them," the dark-haired prince said. "That summoner's in a lot of
danger."
	He stood up at the edge of the pool, eyes still gazing into the
peaceful waters. How long would those waters remain this way? "There's
no need," he countered.
	"Why?" the odango-haired blonde asked.
	Slowly he lifted his head to stare at them all. "I was the one who
created the Pandora boxes."


	She awoke to discover that she had been sleeping.
	Never recalling if she had laid down to sleep, she now found
herself slowly roused from a fetal position upon the soft cushions of a
couch. Black leather shifted beneath her form as she looked up.
	"Where...am I?" she asked herself.
	The room was silent in response. Sitting up, she pushed out some
of the wrinkles on her skirt. Her surroundings appeared to be no more
than that of an apartment. The living room was sunken from the rest of
the apartment, gifted with a large television, couches and a coffee
table. Halogen lamps were placed around the room. To her left she could
see the kitchen and dining room, partitioned by only a slick, black
counter. Beyond that was a hallway and other chambers.
	It seemed so peaceful, so normal.
	Had everything about that Elven sorcerer been just a dream, a
fantasy conjured up from too many Faery tales read late at night?
	Her eyes stopped upon seeing the front door to the apartment. The
rune was not painted on or hung from the door, thus making it seem
unnatural. It was quite the opposite: indeed, the door seemed to have
naturally grown from the scarlet rune she knew very well by this time.
	That rune had marked the central box in the gallery.
	It was that belonging to Chaos.
	And beneath the rune was a small, fancifully carved Torii. This
door was in essence a gateway, and wherever it was she found herself in
meant that this was Chaos' domain. Yet it seemed strange that an Elven
sorcerer would find such a contemporary setting to call home. She would
have more expected to find herself in an underground palace or else in a
large, hollowed out tree. Or perhaps even a vast cave.
	But not something so...modern.
	Shuffling from beyond the hallway meant that she was no longer
alone. And there was only one other person she could be sure of being
here in this domain. Panic set in as the footsteps moved into the
hallway.
	She had to escape while she had the chance!
	"The door," she whispered, racing over to the portal.
	She opened up the door, hoping that it would lead out. That it
would lead somewhere, anywhere, just so long as it was away from here.
It deceivingly led somewhere else: right back into itself.
	She gasped, a stifled squeak escaping her mouth as through the
open door she stared out at the apartment once more. A quick glance back
confirmed that she was still in the same apartment, yet beyond the
threshold of this doorway was its mirror. Either way she travelled, she
ended up in the exact same place.
	"You can't get out that way, I'm afraid," came a voice.
	She spun around, jumping back into the wall.
	There in the middle of the living room, having crept in with more
silence than a dying wind, he stood. His long silver hair was tied back
in a long tail, and he was dressed in modern yet elegant garments. Yet
there was no denying the aura behind him, or the Elven resemblance he
bore.
	He was the lord of Chaos.
	"N-Na ni?" she asked, trembling. Her back went straight against
the wall.
	"The doorway to my little realm," he stated, sauntering across the
room, each step becoming a step closer to her. "It's designed to ensure
you don't slip out while I'm away."
	Her entire body tensed, fists clenched in balls tight enough to
whiten her knuckles.
	He paused, regarding her near-paralyzed state with amusement. "I
don't bite," he said. "Not, of course, unless you wish me to do so."
With playfully wide eyes he snapped his jaws together.
	She relaxed slightly upon his retreat.
	"Hajimimashute," he said with a bow. "Forgive my rudeness, but
perhaps now you can know my name. Call me Chaos. His lordship Chaos.
Emperor and leader of the Elven Court of Chaos, founded by yours truly.
Any and all other names I perhaps had have been forgotten over the
centuries of relentless time."
	Closing his palms together, he made a very dramatic motion of
separating his hands to reveal a delicate white rose, the edges of its
petals stained pink. Surprised as she was by the feat, it surprised her
even more when she realized she was blushing as he tossed the flower to
her and she caught it.
	"Daijobu," he said, chuckling over her very apparent fear. "I
doubt you would be here right now if I had some nefarious plan to put
into action."
	He gave her a playful wink.
	She glanced down at the floor, shuffling her feet. "Oh."
	"I hope you're not as disappointed as you appear to be," he
remarked. "I try to be dramatic whenever possible, but I would rather
destroy an entire skyscraper than a beauty such as yourself."
	And as if to emphasize his point, he made a quick flick with his
wrist to produce a second rose in his hand. This one was blood red, its
petals stained white around the edges.
	"A-arigato," she stammered.
	The fact was that she had been so preoccupied before with his
fight against the Wanderer, she had never really noticed how handsome
this Elven lord really was.
	"Besides," he added, more as an afterthought. "it's the Imagika
I'm after." With that, he collapsed onto the couch.
	She approached hesitantly, clutching both roses in her hands. The
stems were free of thorns, smooth against her skin. Great care had been
taken in creating those flowers. Still uncertain of how to view her
suddenly friendly captor, she took a seat on the opposite end of the
couch.
	He didn't argue against that.
	"Chaos?"
	"Hai."
	"What is an Imagika?"
	"There are crystals called Imagika," he answered. "They are the
essence of the magik mortals like you and I possess. In a sense, the
Imagika is our eternal soul."
	She froze, eyes widening. In the distant future, not so long ago
in her memories, the Queen of Crystal Tokyo had told her of a tale about
a champion Senshi and the vengeful taking of their Starseeds. Once gone,
the holder of the seed vanished forever. Was Imagika just another name
for the Starseeds?
	"B-but what happens to the person you steal it from?" she asked
apprehensively.
	His response was immediate, already given thought and decision.
"Without it, their body simply fades away. No longer a mortal, no longer
a ghost, they are but a dying dream. And only a miracle could ever bring
them back once the separation has taken place."
	She scrunched the folds of her skirt into her fists in silent
cries. "You...you would kill them," she whispered.
	He shrugged indifferently. "It's nothing personal," he admitted,
summoning a box of small chocolate candies with a mere gesture. "It's
just...well, business. Care for some chocolate?"
	She declined by staying right where she was, sullen and staring
down at the floor.
	He sighed, popping a chocolate into his mouth. "A shame, really,
letting these go to waste and all. They are very good."
	"How can you eat at a time like this?" she finally demanded
angrily. This was the one who intended to kill her Dreamworld soulmate
by tearing out an Imagika. How could he act so nonchalant about it?
	"If I'm hungry, I eat," he simply replied. "If I'm tired, I sleep.
I may be of Elven blood, but I'm mortal much like you are. And I hold a
high will to survive. The best way for me to do that is to take all my
powers back."
	She looked away, evading his attempts to draw her eyes back to
facing him. For a moment he seemed unnerved by her hostility, awkwardly
staring down into his candies.
	"Even at the cost of other people's lives?" she asked.
	He paused in sucking on his chocolate. "I never really stopped to
think about it," he answered. "This is the first time I would be
committing myself to such a game. In the past I never had to worry about
losing my powers until Helios showed up with his damned Pandora Boxes."
	That caught enough of her curiosity for her to finally look at him
again. "Pandora Box?"
	He nodded. "I'll tell you about them...if you agree to try a
chocolate."
	For a moment she silently wrestled with his proposal. It would
seen indecent, if not betraying Helios, if she accepted. A low rumble
shook her stomach, and she blushed in embarrassment.
	He laughed, smiling at her. "I think the decision's already been
made."
	It was a genuine laugh. The tension in her body seemed to fall
away with that laugh. It almost made her forget of what he planned to
eventually do. She took a chocolate and tried one.
	"Delicious!" she exclaimed, surprised. The candies were sweet and
filling, a delight to her tongue and stirring up her stomach in
excitement.
	He gave her a curious expression.  "You were expecting them to be
laced with poisons or some enchantment? Really, that's so childish. I
stopped doing that about five hundred years ago--Pandora Box duration
notwithstanding."
	"What is a Pandora Box?" she asked, reaching for another
chocolate.
	He set the chocolates down between them. "You opened one,
Chibiusa--may I call you that?"
	She looked up from the chocolates. "What?"
	"Your name," he replied. "I heard them speak it back in the
Sanctuary. May I call you that, or is there another title you would
prefer?"
	She considered that; the only other title that had ever been given
to her was Small Lady. Any extra names were previous taunts traded
between her and the odango-haired blonde, her future mother.
	"Chibiusa's fine."
	He nodded. "Chibiusa, then. About three thousand years ago, the
Elven lived alongside humans and other creatures of magik upon the
earth. It would be a lie to say that it was a peaceful coexistence. We
Elven do love to make life a little more...shall we say, interesting.
There were seven of us who rose to become the greatest of the Elven
mages. I organized us into a council: the Court of Chaos. Have you ever
heard of us?"
	She shook her head, wolfing down another chocolate.
	He sighed. "No, I suppose not. There's not much left of we Elven
that even proves we once existed. But my Court enjoyed playing some very
amusing games with many a creature, humans and otherwise. Well, all fun
and games must come to an end one day. Ours came when Helios was
summoned from the Dreamworld, and asked to put a stop to our games. He
did just that, creating what came to be known as the Pandora Box. The
boxes use our very magiks to seal us inside, and three Imagikas became
the locks that bound our powers."
	His fingers groped around the box, searching for a chocolate.
Finally his eyes titled downwards when he met with only fine crumbs. "Na
ni?! You ate them all?!"
	She burped. "Gomen nasai."
	For a moment the lord of Chaos was at a loss for words, the
expression on his face one of complete, stunned disbelief. And then he
laughed again, shaking his head.
	"Yare yare. At least you got your appetite back," he remarked,
standing up and walking over to the sliding door window. Just beyond a
thin pane of glass was the cityscape, alive in the noises and lights of
the night. The skies of an early March morning were out there in
darkened masses, dancing in behind the armada of Tokyo's city lights. In
a few short hours, that life would fade away with the coming of the
dawn.
	Absently he placed a hand on the glass, letting his forehead touch
the window. She watched his face as he stood there. For a moment he
seemed to contemplate his memories, only to be saddened by what he
found.
	"It's like sleeping," he said finally. "Though you're half awake
throughout your stay in the box. If anything I would describe it as
walking amidst oblivion. And there's not much to look at in there.
You're lucky if you can even remember who you are."
	He spoke more to his reflection in the glass than to her, abruptly
cold. Perhaps even vengeful. It surprised him when he felt her warm
hands touch his, and as he turned to face her he saw those two, gentle
rouge eyes accepting him for who and what he was.
	"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she said quietly.
	He smiled, taking a second look out at the city expanse. "Arigato,
Chibiusa-chan. But in truth I probably deserved some of it. Definitely
after that whole 'sinking of Atlantis' incident."
	"You sunk Atlantis?" she exclaimed.
	He pulled back, waving his arms in protest. "I swear I was just
there on vacation! That was just an unfortunate coincidence and a matter
of bad timing with both Carnage and Havoc showing up on the same beach
that I was on."
	They both stared at each other for a moment in pleasant silence.
And then they laughed together. They laughed for a long time. In that
time, the eyes of the Elven lord seemed to soften in watching her.
	"Chibiusa...."
	Yet she did not hear him whisper her name.
	Nor was she meant to hear it from his lips.
	It was just better this way.


	The rippling waters of the Gallery's fountain continued regardless
of the silence among the four of them. Though they were silent, time
still continued in its ever-relentless march that would one day reach
out to span eternity.
	"Why you?" the Wanderer asked. "Why were you chosen to create the
Pandora Boxes?"
	He sighed; for so long he had hoped that the legacy of the boxes
would remain just as forgotten lore, that never again would he have to
face this situation. Yet everything in life seemed to come with a cycle,
a revolution.
	And now it was his turn.
	"Chaos and those like him were of Earthen magik, the most powerful
breeds at that," he explained. "They stirred up dissension and mischief
wherever they went, the results sometimes very disastrous whether or not
they intended it. Their term for those actions was 'playing a game'. Any
magik another mage could summon was rivalled or conquered in an
alarmingly short period of time. The Court of Chaos was undefeated by
any and all Earthen magiks. No, a completely different breed of magik
had to be used."
	"Dreamworld magik," the dark-haired prince said.
	He nodded. "Hai. Karasu, you are living proof that our two realms
can easily work to seal a magik. Think of the Pandora box as a pocket
dimension, which seals the force inside another  realm much like a lost
soul."
	The dark-haired prince held the odango-haired blonde a little
tighter. "And now Chaos is freed once again. If he's been trapped inside
that box for a few millennia, then no wonder he's anxious to play a new
game."
	"That's why he took Chibiusa," the Wanderer said. "He knows you
love her."
	The odango-haired blonde looked down into the waters.
"Chibiusa...."
	He stared into his reflection. So it had come to this: once again
he was facing a fellow mage he wished he could be allies with. Yet there
would never seem to be a chance of that happening. Chaos had to be
sealed back inside the Pandora Box again.
	He would see to that, for her sake.
	Finally he stood up from beside the fountain. "It's all about the
game Chaos wants us to play. And believe him when he says that nothing
is forbidden. If we want to end the world to stop him, then he won't see
a problem in us trying that."
	"Don't even joke about destroying our world," the Wanderer said.
"There's a Senshi in our ranks who has the power to do it with
disturbing ease."
	He nodded. "Gomen; I should have remembered about Hotaru-sama's
magik."
	"What do we do now?" the odango-haired blonde spoke up. "How do we
free Chibiusa?"
	"I'm afraid that all we can do right now is wait," he answered.
"You will need to return to earth in a few short hours. But I don't know
where or when Chaos will choose to strike. The next move is up to him."


	Even though it was a luxurious apartment, given to magikal tricks
every way she turned, it was still a prison. Unable to leave through the
front door marked by the rune of chaos, she was forced to remain there.
	No matter how charming or hospitable he tried to be, she knew that
the Elven lord was keeping her here against her will. The faces of her
friends seemed to appear in ghostly images alongside her: the odango-
haired blonde, the dark-haired prince, the DreamMaster.
	"Helios," she whispered.
	For so long the DreamMaster had come to her in the form of a
Pegasus, and at the time she had never noticed Helios' love for her. Now
she finally understood it, and wished to be together with him for as
long as eternity kept going. But already there were hindrances: first
his title of DreamMaster, the solution unfortunately delayed because of
the Shadowqueen.
	And now this.
	Arms crossed, she leaned forward on the dining room table, burying
her head in between her arms. Quiet tears of sadness and longing fell
from her cheeks, making but a whisper when they struck the table.
	"Helios. Why aren't you here?"
	For a time, she cried alone. Finally the tears stopped flowing and
she was simply left with a knot in her stomach. Why did it have to be
like this? Why did Chaos and Helios have to be such enemies? Neither one
was inherently evil.
	She lifted her head upon hearing the delicate notes that echoed in
with the winds. At first they seemed to be of the very winds themselves.
Wiping away the tears from her face, she followed the music.
	The sliding door was left open, the hanging blinds drifting in the
early morning breezes. He sat atop the balcony railing, one leg dangling
over the side, oblivious to the world eight storeys below.
	Another day was presenting itself to the city that would one day
become legend. Warm rays of sunlight made their way across the cityscape
of Tokyo, giving rise to life of the people living there. Across the
city there was the sound of wind, traffic, and people all arguing for
attention. The din of the modern world was like a background static that
was forever present. Yet if one was to pause and pull themselves away
from it all, they would have heard the beautiful and saddened melody of
a flute.
	Faint, haunting notes echoed across the clear morning skies. His
lips pressed against the seemingly delicate glass instrument, Chaos
played a melody of ancient homelands, now all but forgotten to the
world.
	His fingers worked their own magik, the music echoing across the
noises of the city. An ancient variation of a recorder was at his lips
as he played a haunting melody that seemed to echo across the empty
streets. Once again he found himself here, playing his gentle instrument
at the edge overlooking a wondrous world. He pressed his lips against
the mouthpiece as his fingers danced around the notes. Music was one of
the quiet moments he enjoyed the most. Games came and went, but his
music lasted within him for as long as there was breath in his lungs.
	The last note from Chaos' flute hung in the air as if not wanting
to end and let the silence of the winds reign over the city once more.
It was then that he took notice of his audience. "It was a song my
mother once taught me," he said. "She wanted me to be a bard." That
seemed to bring a distant smile to his face. "Imagine that: his lordship
Chaos a musician."
	"It's not too hard to imagine," she said. "Your music is
beautiful."
	He solemnly watched the dying heavens of the night. "You've been
crying, Chibiusa. Is it because of me?"
	She opened her mouth to respond, to give some kind of answer. But
her voice failed her and she said nothing. How could she tell him about
her feelings for Helios without angering him to retaliate?
	He took no offence, reading into her silence. "I know you love
him, Chibiusa. That is something you humans have a difficult time trying
to hide. Make no mistake in that I will finish this game. I just hate to
see a beautiful girl cry."
	She touched her lips, her voice returning. "Chaos," she whispered.
	And then the sun's rays broke free of the horizon's shadows,
flooding across the city hues of scarlet, yellow and orange. The night
was banished from the earth, the day rising up once again as it always
had in the past.
	There, together on the balcony, they watched the sunrise come to
the sprawling city of Tokyo.


	Another day had come.
	And with it the promise of new hopes and new challenges.
	Even though going with little sleep over a night spent worrying
about the Tsukino child, the odango-haired blonde managed to make it to
school. Not necessarily on time, but that was now to be expected of both
the odango-haired blonde and the long-haired blonde.
	Without incident, the morning passed everyone by with the daily
rigors of tests and lessons. The odango-haired blonde had decided to
tell no one else about the release of the Elven lord of Chaos.
	Not until their lunch break began.
	It was almost approaching the noon hour, and that found a majority
of them inside the gymnasium. While the males were practicing volleyball
drills, the ladies had a chance to talk before beginning their laps.
	The long-haired blonde giggled. "Ah, it's great that Luna and
Artemis are out so late together these past few nights. I was able to
eat that extra piece of chocolate cake without having him suddenly walk
in and scold me!"
	"Lucky!" the odango-haired blonde pouted. "Shingo ate our last
piece of cake two days ago. I had nothing to eat behind Luna's back."
	The long-haired blonde gave the V-sign. "You know what they say:
if the cat's away, then there's nothing else left for the dog to chase!"
	A round of groans went around the group.
	"Minako-chan," the blue-haired genius said, resting a hand on the
girl's shoulder. "I think I've finally given up on correcting your
quotes."
	The odango-haired blonde glanced over at the tall brunette. "Mako-
chan, you don't look so well."
	The tall brunette nodded despite looking otherwise. "Daijobu. I've
just been feeling a little sick lately. Probably just the flu going
around."
	"Are you sure you're alright?" the long-haired blonde pressed.
	The tall brunette nodded. "I said I'm fine. Besides, Sora worries
enough about me as it is; I don't need the rest of you all mothering
me."
	"Incoming!" came the alerting shout of the raven knight.
	With a curious expression, the odango-haired blonde turned.
Seconds later her face abruptly met with a volleyball. The odango-haired
blonde toppled over, hands twitching slightly upon hitting the floor.
	From across the gymnasium, the masquerade wraith winced. "That
really had to hurt." With a smirk, Meikyu glanced over at the raven
knight. "Nice shot, Kishi."
	"Hush," Kishi retorted, making a gesture with his hand to command
for silence.
	Then a rumour seemed to sweep through the crowd as two female
students raced into the gymnasium. Everyone seemed to be stirred by the
news, most excited being the ladies of the student body. Yet whatever
was happening caught the attention of whoever was listening:
	"Did you hear?"
	"What's he doing back?"
	"Maybe he's transferring back to Jyuban again!"
	The two guardian angels exchanged glances of piqued curiosity as
they helped the odango-haired blonde off the floor.
	"Somebody's popular," Meikyu remarked.
	"Hai," Kishi agreed. "But the only person who ever seemed to
generate this much excitement was--"
	"Karasu!" the blue-haired genius exclaimed, pointing to a tall
young man with shining blonde hair.
	He moved gracefully, slowly with each step, unhurried and
oblivious to the cheers and sighs of those around him. Dressed as always
in his white dress shirt, and black tie, jacket and pants, he flashed a
smile to ladies. Yet there was something else, something he was holding
in his hand that gave way to further whispers.
	The tall brunette nudged Meikyu. "What's he doing with the Arashi
in full view?"
	He gave the two guardian angels a side glance from behind his
shades, a dark smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And then he
looked to the odango-haired blonde.
	"Usagi," he stated coldly. "I've come for my birthright: the
future kingdom of Crystal Tokyo. As eldest of the royal family, I alone
can lay claim to its rule."
	The crowd around them started to murmur in confusion, for no one
understood the bonds of magik forged between their group. Yet everyone
who understood was taken aback.
	"What in the hell?" the raven knight muttered.
	"I think his memories came back, but not his senses," the
masquerade wraith remarked.
	"Don't fool yourselves," Karasu snapped, flinging his arm towards
them. A blast of light erupted from his open palm, magik unleashed to
strike the two warriors. Kishi and Meikyu were lifted from the ground
and hurled across the gym, colliding with the wall. The impact was
enough to leave a hole marking where their bodies had struck as they
limply slid to the floor.
	"Karasu, no!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, eyes wide in
shock.
	"What's the meaning of this?" the long-haired blonde demanded.
	The Wanderer laughed, enjoying their predicament. He sheathed the
Arashi back into his hand. "What are you going to do? Transform right in
front of all these people? Or are you just going to defeat me without
using your magik?"
	"Shimatta," the tall brunette hissed, charging at him.
	The Wanderer's eyes narrowed.
	Then came the rippling air, the barrier that caught up the tall
brunette and flung the girl across the gymnasium. The tall brunette let
out a silent scream before tumbling across the floor.
	"Mako-chan!" the long-haired blonde cried out.
	Everyone seemed to be backing away from him. Once before the
students had known him to be Kageno Karasu, a charming and handsome
senior. But now the darker side they never knew existed was being
revealed.
	Or was it?
	"Usagi," Karasu said. "I came here for the right as firstborn to
possess the magik of the eternal moon. If you will not surrender it to
me now, then I will take it by force."
	The odango-haired blonde stepped away from him, too stunned and
too frightened to know what to do. Never before had such a situation
ever arisen.
	"I'm afraid that's quite impossible," a voice identical to his own
countered. Yet his lips had not moved nor had his face revealed any
intention of objecting with his own words.
	Out from behind a wall of invisibility he emerged, leisurely
walking towards them. Dressed in a familiar black suit, he stepped ever
so closer to them. Upon removing the shades over his eyes, he displayed
a crystal blue brilliance complimented by wild shining blonde hair.
	"You see," the newcomer stated. "The power of the Eternal Moon is
bloodmagik, and only the ladies in our bloodline can possess its power.
Your claim rather lacks somewhat."
	Everyone was agape as Kageno Karasu walked right up to Kageno
Karasu, the two staring each other right in the face as if one was a
mirror's reflection. Yet here there was no glass.
	"Na ni?" the blue-haired genius exclaimed.
	"T-two Karasu's?" the long-haired blonde said, stunned.
	The doppelgangers regarded each other with mutual interest if not
amusement.
	"My, but you're handsome for being an impostor," the first said.
	"It's perfectly obvious one of us is an impostor," the newcomer
Wanderer replied evenly. "And I must admit that you are not very good at
your job. I'm much more handsome in person than that."
	"And I must compliment you on your own deception," the first
Wanderer replied evenly. "You're exactly like me right down to the last
detail. But I must admit that I'm the better looking of us."
	The newcomer Wanderer cracked his knuckles. "Is that so?"
	"Tell me this isn't happening," the long-haired blonde said, blue
eyes wide in stunned amazement.
	"All right," the second Karasu answered. "This isn't happening-
though I doubt deluding yourself is the best way to handle the situation
right about now."
	Both Karasu's held out their hands, twin Arashi emerging in
perfect unison. A plate of glass couldn't have given a more exact
reflection than their actions.
	"I would hate to hurt your pretty face," one said. "Even if it is
the less cuter of the two."
	"You'll have to try first," the other responded. "And for the
records, I'm cuter."
	Suddenly they lunged for each other, Arashi blades striking with a
loud clash of metal against metal. They fought, becoming blurs of black
and white as sparks flew from the blades of their swords. Then they
parted, still mirroring the movements of the other.
	"Impressive," one Wanderer remarked to the other.
	"You're not to bad yourself," the other added.
	And then the melee began again. The first leaped into the air, the
second leaping up to counter. For a good ten seconds they hovered near
the gymnasium roof, exchanging parries and strikes before adeptly
dropping to the floor.
	"But how do we know which one is the real Karasu?" the blue-haired
genius asked.
	"How do we know if either one is the real Karasu?" the odango-
haired blonde asked.
	The newcomer Wanderer laughed. "Simple: the Arashi's magik can
only be wielded by the true master of the Lightening Strike...and I'm
the only one." He gave her the V-sign. "Usagi-chan, I'll be with you in
a moment."
	Facing the other Wanderer, he raised the Arashi sword. Storm magik
began to manifest in a radiant glow of fierce blue and white. Electrical
arcs surged across the walls and floor, sucked into the epicentre that
was the blade.
	"Storm Furies!" Karasu shouted.
	The explosive gales of his storm magik raged across the gymnasium,
tearing apart the floor in a violent display of tempests, lightening and
thunder.
	"Now that's playing dirty!" the other Wanderer exclaimed, trying
to shield his eyes from the blast before becoming but a black
silhouette.
	Seconds later the wave struck, the black silhouette dashed to a
thousand pieces. The aura of magik faded, revealing the aftermath of the
battle. All that remained were some tattered remains of a cloak, and
fragments of a mask of Kageno Karasu, eyes wide and mouth stretched open
in genuine surprise.
	"That's for attacking my little sister," the true Wanderer stated
icily.
	He walked up to the cracked mask laying on the ground and promptly
crushed it beneath his shoes. "And that's for not even coming close to
how cute I really am," he remarked.
	The long-haired blonde sighed. "I guess even with his memories
back, some things never change."
	"But," the blue-haired genius inquired. "how exactly do we explain
this to the faculty?"
	Karasu shrugged indifferently. "Leave that to me, ladies."
	With a flick of the wrist a crystal illusion was produced,
floating up to the middle of the gymnasium before unleashing a flash of
light. And everything was restored, the memories of the other students
erased and then replaced. On the other hand, a new chorus of excited
cheers erupted from the ladies.
	"Still got that magik touch," the Wanderer remarked with a sly
grin, waving to the cheering fan club.
	Abruptly there came an echo of slow, deliberate applause. Seated
upon the metal rafters of the gym was Lord Chaos, hands moving together
to clap for them.
	"Brilliant, DreamSeer. Absolutely brilliant. So tell me what you
intend to do about...that?"
	The Wanderer slowly removed the shades, staring out at a legion of
Kageno Karasu's, each one identical to the next. They all drew their
hands up to their shades, and slid the shades down their noses. Every
last and minute action was done in unison, in one perfect accord.
	The blue-haired genius looked from one doppelganger to the next.
"This is really not a good situation."
	"Oh, really, Ami-chan; you think so?" the long-haired blonde
exclaimed in exasperation. "Karasu, they're all you! Do something!"
	The Wanderer cracked his knuckles. "With pleasure, Minako."
	The Arashi was barely even emerging from his hand by the time the
crackling magik was unleashed from his open palm. The entire legion of
Kageno Karasu's were incinerated. None tried to run or fight. They all
just stood there as if to mock the one, true Wanderer's magik.
	The Wanderer growled.
	"Karasu?" the odango-haired blonde asked apprehensively.
	There was a brief expression of contentment as the Wanderer turned
to the odango-haired blonde. "Daijobu, Usagi-chan. But right now, this
is between Chaos and me."
	"Oh, how sickeningly sentimental," the Elven lord exclaimed,
making a face. "Gives me diabetes just watching you."
	"I've had enough of your parlour tricks, Chaos," the Wanderer said
coldly. "Morpheus gave me his memories, so I have some rather unkind
recollections regarding you."
	Chaos pitched backwards, flipping over in dropping from the
rafters to the floor. Without so much as making a genuine effort, let
alone breaking a sweat, he landed gracefully. "Hmph!" Chaos said
indignantly. "You dare to call my magik just a bunch of 'parlour tricks'
when you wield a whole army of illusions? For shame, Karasu."
	"Um, excuse me for a moment, but who exactly is this guy?" the
long-haired blonde asked.
	"Lord Chaos was once formerly a sorcerer of the Elven," the
Wanderer explained. "And contrary to most folklore, those of the Elven
breed were not cute little pixies with faery wings. They were more like
malevolent gremlins."
	"A harsh punishment I suffered, getting myself banished into the
Pandora Box for just that," he remarked.
	"That gives you no excuse for this!" the odango-haired blonde
protested. "Or for taking Chibiusa-chan!"
	Chaos sat back, hovering in the air as if seated. "Can you imagine
how cranky you would feel after being sealed in here for decades, and
before that for how many thousands of years?"
	"Chaos," the Wanderer inquired evenly. "What exactly happened the
last time you managed to escape from your box?"
	"Oh sure, blame that one on me too!" he protested. "I just wanted
to celebrate my newfound freedom and went on a cruise. And during one of
my frequent trips to the bar, I just happened to remark at how I needed
to get more ice for my drink."
	"And if I recall correctly," the Wanderer replied. "Minutes later
the Titanic ill-fatedly hit an iceberg."
	"Circumstantial evidence!" the Elven lord protested. "You can't
blame every great disaster on me. I haven't been here for all of them."
	"But you're rather prolific in the ones that you are present for,"
came a new voice. Out from a veil of invisibility emerged the
DreamMaster.
	"H-Helios-san," the blue-haired genius stammered.
	Indeed, almost everyone seemed surprised to find the DreamMaster
here in their world.
	"I thought you were confined to the Dreamworld," Chaos remarked
sourly. "It would appear I was in error...an unexpected addition to this
part of the game."
	"I gave him an illusion that allows him access," the Wanderer
replied with a dark smile. This was true; any other time given for
Helios to be within the boundaries of Earth were gifts from the time
guardress, or else the temporary graces of the Mystwolves.
	"Chaos-sama," Helios stated. "It would appear you're outnumbered.
The advantage right now belongs to us."
	"I don't recall being at the disadvantage," Chaos scoffed, a dark
sparkle in his eyes. "Let me show you what even a fraction of my power
is capable of."
	The furies seemed to erupt all around him, and then, with a
magnificent flare of light, burned throughout the entire gym. And then
there was nothing but flame. Everyone gawked at the churning firestorm
that was pooling around him. With a loud shout he raised his arm, every
last bit of raging magik swarming around his outstretched hand.
	"Summon magik!" he shouted.
	An explosion of light sent tremors across the gymnasium. Everyone
was engulfed by the flash. Yet when it died down the only thing that had
even changed in the slightest was him, now crouched low to the floor.
	"I think being in the Box for a few thousand years has made him a
little rusty," the tall brunette remarked, quite unimpressed while being
helped up by the DreamMaster.
	"Don't be fooled," Helios countered, keeping a defensive
alertness. "Chaos has a flair for the dramatic, and a very deceiving
edge to display it with."
	The Elven lord grinned wickedly. "Exactly."
	It only took a single touch of the finger against the floor. But
with that touch, the entire floor around the Elven Lord exploded in a
tremendous wave of thrashing crimson lights, radiating out as if it were
the winds possessed.
	A loud cry arose from everyone in the gymnasium as the firestorm
swept through the place, this time not just as a single flare but as an
armada of rampant flames and pyres. Windows along the ceiling of the gym
shattered, spilling glass onto the students below. Panic swept the crowd
gathered there.
	"Shimatta!" the tall brunette exclaimed. "He could kill someone!"
	Suddenly Kishi was mobile, helping a limping Meikyu race across
the gym floor. "We have to get everyone else out of here now before the
roof goes!"
	Helios whirled, searching the flames. "Chaos! Where's Chaos?"
	"Leave Chaos to me!" the Wanderer shouted over the crackling
fires. "I'll cover your backs while you get out!"
	The long-haired blonde and the blue-haired genius were already
working to help the larger crowds find the nearest exits. Black smoke
was pouring everywhere. Suddenly a smaller, secondary explosion caused
the building to shudder.
	Meikyu and Kishi stumbled, falling almost headlong into the
burning flames. The tall brunette yanked them both out by the backs of
their collars moments before they would have been consumed by the fire.
	"Usagi-chan, hurry!" the long-haired blonde exclaimed, helping
push the frantic students out the exit doors.
	The odango-haired blonde stayed by the Wanderer's side as the
Wanderer desperately tried to launch illusions of crashing floods, only
to find that it held little effect against Chaos' flames.
	"Karasu, please," she begged. "Don't stay here."
	The Wanderer made a swipe with the Arashi, the air pressure
driving back a wall of fire. "I'm the one he came for anyways. Get the
others out of here quickly, then transform. My illusions seem to have no
effect on his magik."
	"Usagi," the DreamMaster said. "Daijobu. I'll stay here with
Karasu."
	The Wanderer grinned at Helios. "Your powers will have even less
effect than mine if you stay on Earth. That's almost inviting more
havoc."
	"Last I checked, he was still sealed inside a Pandora Box," the
DreamMaster replied evenly.
	Suddenly a raging firewall spewed forth alongside them, driving
back the odango-haired blonde and the DreamMaster with a tempest of hot
air. The flames seemed to part to allow them both a chance to tumble to
the ground safely.
	"Usagi-chan! Helios!" the Wanderer called back.
	And then bursting out from the very heart of the flames was Chaos,
the Elven lord leaping high into the air. "Prepare yourself!" he
shouted, raking down his splayed fingers. From the tips of his nails,
jagged crimson streaks of magik attacked.
	The Wanderer leaped aside, the magik expelled cleaving the dress
shirt apart but barely even nicking the skin.
	"Sugoi," Karasu muttered. "He's fast."
	He laughed, crouched down on both legs and one arm upon landing.
"More than you care to think, Wanderer. I forgot to mention something in
our previous meeting: I absorb the magik that is used on me."
	The Wanderer launched a crystal, the orb growing into the form of
a long and slender dragon. The dragon roared, throwing open its jaws as
its yellow eyes widened upon seeing the Elven lord.
	Chaos shook his head. "Baka," he muttered with a snap of his
fingers.
	Suddenly the dragon threw itself aside, wrapping its elongated
form around Chaos' body with such a speed that it became wisps of blue
wind that were sucked up into his palm. There, held tightly within his
fingers, was the Wanderer's illusion.
	"M-masaka," Karasu hissed.
	He chuckled. "I took a hit from one of your illusions already,
Wanderer. As I recall, you tried to kill me with it. Well, please permit
me the chance to repay the favour and take your Imagika with it!"
	Suddenly the dragon erupted from his palm, streaking out and
smashing its head into the Wanderer's chest. Karasu was flung aside,
catapulted into a wall.
	"What's the matter?" Chaos exclaimed with a sadistic laugh,
pouncing through the flames. "I thought you were better than this,
DreamSeer, but evidently you're still not having any fun!"
	"Bastard," the Wanderer snarled, throwing a fast punch.
	Chaos blocked the punch, retaliating with an elbow jab to Karasu's
back. The Wanderer collapsed, reeling from the blow as electrical sparks
showered down from the attack.
	"Storm magik," Chaos said, yanking Karasu off the floor by the
jacket. "Did I forget to mention that I've already absorbed that too?"
	He leaned in closer. "Round two," he hissed into the Wanderer's
ear. "I win."
	And then he effortlessly flung Karasu across the gym. Karasu's
back struck the wall, cracking the structure. The Wanderer crumpled to
the floor, struggling to stand up again.
	There was not even enough time to register that the flash of
reflection in the Wanderer's shades was an imposing threat.	For a
split second, despite all the surrounding carnage, the entire gymnasium
was silent.
	The odango-haired blonde and the DreamMaster looked up just to
witness the defeat of the Wanderer. Karasu gave a stifled gasp, lurching
into air and hoisted completely off the floor. Out from the Wanderer's
chest viciously emerged a glowing sphere of light, punching a hole
through the breast of the black jacket.
	"Karasu!" the odango-haired blonde screamed.
	The glowing crystal seemed to shimmer as it floated leisurely to
its new master. It resembled a large silver pearl, smooth and flawless.
Yet within the seemingly fragile sphere there radiated a beautiful
rainbow of sparkling lights from a glowing diamond. As if one was
witnessing and eternal fireworks of the cosmos.
	"Two down!" Chaos proclaimed, the Imagika resting in his palm.
	The Wanderer collapsed, convulsing on the floor. Both the odango-
haired blonde and the DreamMaster raced to Karasu's side, kneeling down
as the Wanderer gasped for breath.
	Helios' face twisted into an expression of righteous anger.
"Chaos!"
	He laughed, his face aglow in dancing crimson from the fire just a
few steps away. "Everybody have fun," he chuckled, twirling the second
Imagika atop a finger.
	And then a wave of flames encircled his body, imploding to reveal
nothing but emptiness. With the departure of Chaos, the Elven magik was
no longer necessary. All the flames were sucked back into the floor,
leaving not a scorch mark nor a pillar of smoke.
	Everything was silent.


	From somewhere else within the school, the raven angel
straightened up in writing a test. Crimson eyes carefully swept the
room.
	There had been an explosive surge in magik here on Earth, one
unlike any other witnessed in almost three thousand years. Only a few
were able to wield such a strange breed of magik with that kind of
force. Yet the last of them had been sealed away for centuries.
	Unless....
	"Masaka," the raven angel whispered. "Could he have escaped
again?"


	In another district of the city, the dark-haired shrine girl's
hands abruptly clenched, nearly cracking apart the pencil she was
holding. Something that was not simply the winds or a draft had caused
the girl to shiver uncontrollably.
	"Wh-what is this strange aura I'm sensing?" she muttered.
	"Rei?" came the sound of the teacher's voice.
	"Hai!"
	The dark-haired shrine girl was forced out of those thoughts,
returning to the academic matters at hand. Damn; that ripple of magik
had her worried.
	Later on, a meeting would need to be called with the Senshi and
their guardian angels. There was something dark in the air on this day.
What scared the dark-haired shrine girl the most was that she had no
idea what this threat was.


	The gymnasium was now deserted save for the ones of wielded magik.
With all the lights turned off, the only source came from stray
moonlight streaming in from the windows near the ceiling.
	He was still at the fallen Wanderer's side, grimly looking down at
what would be his fate with the passing time. With two Imagika crystals,
Chaos' powers were growing.
	The raven knight glanced at the nearest clock. "Seven thirty.
Chaos locked us in here for almost six hours by just capturing us in a
momentary flash of light."
	The masquerade wraith nodded in agreement. "Hai. And I'm willing
to be that everyone else was given no recollection of the battle."
	"Why do you think that?" the blue-haired genius asked. After all,
the Elven Lord did seem to have a flair for the dramatic.
	He knelt down next to the Wanderer. "It's not the way Chaos likes
to play the game," he answered for the guardian angels. "If he leaves
witnesses, then there's a lot of questions we would have to try to
explain. That takes up our time and freedom to play his game."
	"Daijobu, Karasu?" the long-haired blonde asked, kneeling
alongside the Wanderer.
	Karasu moaned softly, alive but unconscious.
	"He'll be alright," he answered. "Luckily the Imagika that Lord
Chaos was after belonged to Morpheus' sphere of illusion. None the less,
I fear that because of the shock, Karasu will be unable to fight in the
near future."
	"Karasu oni-san," the odango-haired blonde whispered, taking the
Wanderer's hand and giving it a small but reassuring squeeze. There was
no response.
	"I'll return him to the Sanctuary," he stated. "Karasu will need
rest after receiving a shock like that to his body."
	"What happens if an Imagika is stolen from someone's body?" the
blue-haired genius inquired.
	The raven knight grimaced, wishing to avoid telling them let alone
thinking about it. "The person disappears from existence. Much like what
happened when Galaxia stole your Starseeds."
	"This has happened in the past, the stealing of someone's
Imagika," he added. "Very few hold the power to do this. Even fewer have
the power to return to the Imagika back to the body."
	"Helios," Meikyu said quietly. "Is he after you now? Is it your
Imagika that Chaos seeks?"
	He nodded. "Hai. I will take Karasu to the Sanctuary now. Later
this evening I shall return. Sayonara."


	She had been sleeping in her private bedroom, but it was a light
and uneasy sleep interrupted by periods where she would open her eyes,
groggy from a distant nightmare that left her with shivers. The sun had
already set, darkness spreading across the sky like ink flowing through
water. Two of the halogen lamps were on in the living room to let her
see where she was going.
	"What time is it?" she murmured to herself. Had she slept all
through the day?
	She turned her head as he entered the apartment. Conventional
means seemed to be childish to him as he soared over the outside balcony
railing, landing with a feline's perfection before the open sliding
door.
	Something sparkled in his grasp, and her eyes widened with the
realization that he had indeed played the game again. He was holding an
Imagika.
	"I must admit," he said, letting the Imagika spin just above his
palm. "Sometimes I just love my job. I had no idea taking someone's
Imagika would be such a rush!"
	She shuddered at his words. "You act as if you enjoy it," she
said. "As if you like taking your revenge."
	"I don't deal in such petty human emotions like vengeance, anger,
or even love," he countered evenly. "It is the game alone that I live
for. A conscience only disrupts me playing it."
	He made a quick gesture.
	She closed her eyes and surrendered to a cool breeze that started
at her feet, working its way up to her head. The Elven magik gave her a
clean body, washed and scented with fragrant perfume. Her garments
became an extravagant and exotic Chinese dress, black with a red dragon
sewn across the chest.
	Yet as much as she would have like to thank him for the gesture,
she found that she could not. "How do you know this game is not about
revenge?"
	He growled, the Imagika fading from view.
	And then he swiftly stalked past her, retreating into his private
chambers. She winced as the door slammed itself shut behind him, echoing
the agitation.
	"Chaos," she said quietly. "It doesn't have to be like this."


	His private chambers, unlike the rest of the apartment, were not
so modern. Here laid in what appeared to be a small room the recreated
ruins of a once great city. Thousands of years ago he had always come to
this place to celebrate the completion of a game.
	For a time he worked his way to the heart of the ruins, leaping
over fallen pillars and through stone frameworks for collapsed
buildings. The stone cherubs with granite wings silently watched him
pass by. Finally he came to the central court, a glorious amphitheatre
now reduced to rows of pillars and columns around a series of sloping
stone benches. There was not a cloud in the heavens as the twin moons
shone overhead.
	He grimaced, summoning a bottle of Elven wine. "Shimatta," he
sighed, popping the cork. "Why does she have to be so damned
inquisitive?"
	He felt as if she was probing every last part of his Elven soul,
and to be honest with himself it was starting to get just a bit
uncomfortable. He had never needed to justify himself or his games
before to anyone else. Why did she suddenly want him to start that now?
Even more than that, why was he even bothering to think it over?
	That called for a pause in retrospection.
	"Could I be getting soft?" he asked himself.
	Feelings meant interference with the games he and his Elven court
played. The only time such amusing emotions ever came into play was when
they were manipulating those of the other players. Like taking her from
the DreamMaster.
	"Damn it all," he said, taking a swig of the wine. "I've been in
the Box way too long!"
	Where would the games be if he got mixed up in these human
emotions? Where would the fun be, for that matter?
	And that was when he heard the music.
	Beautiful, haunting notes sung to words he could not quite
understand. The melody was serene yet disturbingly mournful. A
celebration of laughter and tears all at once. A soft, gentle voice
carried through into his private universe, echoing across the empty
skies and deserted ruins.
	It was her voice that he was listening to.
	The bottle of fine Elven wine slipped out from his fingers as he
turned to listen, the glass shattering at his feet. Wine soaked into the
stone and dust, glistening thick and rich, a pale orange in the light of
the twin moons high overhead.
	For a reason that escaped him, he allowed her song to lead him
away from the ancient ruins. As if possessed, he seemed captivated as he
moved almost without other thoughts in his mind. All he could do, all he
wanted to do, was to listen.
	She was sitting there on the living room couch, eyes closed, head
bowed, arms crossed over her chest as if trying to lull herself into a
peaceful dream.
	A shiver ran down his back as he felt the warmth of her magik flow
past him like the sun's rays coming from an eternal moon. A golden
crescent shone from her forehead as she sang, lost within her soothing
music.
	"What is that tune?" he asked.
	The crescent moon faded as her eyes opened, sad and delicate rouge
looking directly into his own green eyes. And then going beyond them,
searching his very soul.
	He stiffened.
	"It's a lullaby," she answered. "One my mother used to sing to me
when I was little."
	"It's beautiful," he said finally. "Your mother must love you very
much. She herself must be as beautiful a woman as you are now, Chibiusa-
chan."
	She caught something in his voice; something he himself couldn't
detect.
	"What is it?" she asked. "Don't you have a family?"
	He leaned against the window, staring at the expanse of the Tokyo
cityscape. "No, Chibiusa-chan, I don't. My kind was wiped out almost
twenty-five hundred years ago, and the only other ones like me are all
sealed up in Pandora Boxes."
	Sliding open the door, he stepped outside onto the balcony. With a
friendly gesture he motioned for her to join him outside. The moon was
rising, casting its pale white glow across the buildings. Eight floors
below, people were returning to their homes.
	The cool evening air was refreshingly welcome.
	"Truth is, I'm not even sure what happened to the Elven," he said,
leaning back against the railing, elbows propped up. "I guess a lot can
happen in the three thousand years you're locked away for. My only hope
is that they threw one hell of a going away party. A shame I couldn't
attend."
	Her fingers gently rested upon his hand. "It must be lonely," she
said quietly.
	He stiffened; her voice, it was full not of despair, but of pity.
She was pitying him, a lord of Chaos' Court. He held magikal properties
the likes of which she could only dream of, had seen and touched realms
not even the Dreamworld could capture. All this and more.
	And yet she pitied him.
	Why?
	"Vengeance is a lonely thing too," she said quietly. "Why do you
pursue it if it only makes you feel so alone?"
	He stared at her for a moment, surprised by perhaps something she
said, or else the look in her eyes. In that moment he saw an Elven lord
with long, silver hair staring back at him into those tinted rouge eyes.
And for the first time that Elven lord looked unsure of himself.
	"It's not revenge," he said, turning around to face the cityscape.
"I'm just reclaiming what was once mine. There's nothing personal about
it."
	"Then why am I here?" she asked, the tears starting to appear in
the corners of her eyes. "Why can't I be with Helios?"
	He gripped the railing a little tighter. "Because that is the way
I play my games," he answered coldly, with enough ice in his voice that
he seemed to be now trying to convince himself as well as her.
	Dammit, was he losing his edge?
	She lowered her head. "Then it's a cruel game."
	There was nothing else he could think of saying response. He
doubted if there was anything he could say. It was time to concede a
stalemate. The way each of them were butting heads like this, no one
would come out a winner and he would be in very low spirits and unable
to enjoy the remainder of the evening.
	He shook his head. "You know, you are just way too depressing like
this. Tell you what: let me take you out for a night on the town."
	She stood straight, looking at him with uncertain surprise.
"What?"
	"No tricks, no games," he answered. "Tell me where you want to go,
and we shall be there. Tomorrow we can go about arguing and fighting
with each other. But just this once, forget our pasts and our
differences, and join me for a quiet evening together."
	He held out his hand as a gesture of his good faith, turning up
his palm and opening it. Snowy white cherry blossoms were possessed by
the winds and carried off into the skies. As the petals danced in the
breeze, they suddenly took wings and became doves.
	She silently watched the doves fade into the distant shadows of a
moonlit night. A smile moved across her face, and she nodded. "Hai,
Chaos-sama. I accept."


	The Shinto shrine, when presented with such an unusual crowd of
magik, dreamers and lovers, was usually filled with the sounds of
laughter and friendship. Yet tonight there was a tension in the silence.
	Looking out at the shrine grounds from an open fusama, the dark-
haired shrine girl said, "So the Elven Chaos sent you seven hours into
the future?"
	"I doubt Chaos' powers extend that far as to control time," the
masquerade wraith countered. "Chaos probably just trapped us in a pocket
dimension with its own regulated sense of time. It's the way he enjoys
playing a game."
	"Does he enjoy playing with people's lives like that?" the tall
brunette said coldly. "Karasu was almost killed back there, and Helios
is next."
	"We can't do anything to track Chaos down," the raven knight said.
"The Elven have always had a talent for sneaking away right when you
turn around to look for them. If he wants to be found, then it means
he's back with another game."
	The odango-haired blonde gently clasped the wrist of the raven
angel. "Karasu's going to be alright, ne, Sora?"
	Sora nodded. "He should recover. But it's Helios we're all worried
about."
	A new breeze swept into the room, all the candles flickering but
not extinguished. With these winds came the DreamMaster. His face was
weary, the concern for his maiden etched into his expression.
	"It is not your place to worry for me," he said. "I worry enough
as it is for myself. But I ask you to concern yourself for Chibiusa-
chan's sake and not for mine."
	"How could Chaos simply get past Karasu's illusions without any
problems?" the long-haired blonde asked. To them, such a feat was simply
too incredible to believe.
	At the mention of the Wanderer, the dark-haired shrine girl's fist
clenched. The shrine protege held onto her. "It will be all right, Rei-
chan. Everything will be all right."
	"But it isn't," the shrine girl answered.
	"Chaos has a rather nasty way of using his magik," the raven
knight said in response to the long-haired blonde's question. "Namely,
whatever power you attack him with, he will absorb that magik and
possess the ability to launch it right back in your face."
	"Was that why your magik was needed to seal off Chaos and the
others like him?" the blue-haired genius asked.
	He nodded. "Hai. Thankfully, only Chaos had the special ability to
wield whatever magik he absorbed--whether by touch or by attack. But he
held no control over the magiks of the Dreamworld. It was the only way
to seal him for good."
	The Elven lord was certainly irate about being locked up like
that, he had no doubt. He could see it in the way Chaos strutted around.
But there was something else, something deeper.
	"This might be a foolish question," the odango-haired blonde spoke
up hesitantly. "But what happened to all the other Elves? Why is only
Chaos and his Court left?"
	His eyes widened for a moment, the connection made in his mind. He
glanced over to the candles, the limited Dreamworld magik he could use
here on Earth spreading out to turn harsh firelight into more a relaxed,
blue glow.
	"About five hundred years after Chaos and his council were sealed
away," he explained. "the entire Elven race was mercilessly
slaughtered."
	The entire room grew silent.
	"Who could do such a thing?" the odango-haired blonde asked,
trembling. For as malevolent as they might have been, no one deserved to
have their race murdered like that. She had seen the near-complete
genocide of the Mystwolves. It was not a thing she desired to ever think
about ever again.
	Those of the Dreamworld exchanged uneasy glances.
	"We don't quite know," Sora answered. "Whatever did it was swift,
quiet and efficient. The Elven breed had unique dreams we found hard to
keep track of."
	The masquerade wraith nodded in agreement. "One night their dreams
were all around us. The next night, they were gone. We would be asking
you that question, but it occurred about twenty-five hundred years
before any of you were born."
	Silence seemed to possess their tongues once more as the minutes
passed them by. Each one held onto their own thoughts
	"What if Chaos isn't playing a game to restore his powers?" the
blue-haired genius asked. "What if he was doing this in order to end his
loneliness?"
	"Ami-chan," the tall brunette said quietly.
	If what the blue-haired genius said was true, then the Elven lord
had come back to earth to die....


	In the blink of an eye they were upon city skyscrapers, dancing in
elegant ballrooms and walking down cobblestone paths in serene forest
parks. Everything seemed to pass her by like a surreal fantasy, and
everything right down to the last detail had been planned to perfection.
	If she liked it a certain way, it was done before she could even
think about it. Flowers, music, dresses: all she had to do was whisper
her dream and he could make it flourish. If she desired to be alone on
the Tokyo Tower's observation deck for a candlelit dinner for two, he
would give it life in magik.
	Somewhere across the city a distant clock chimed the midnight
hour, echoes carried through the air on a night that seemed to find
itself without the words of the winds.
	The final fantasy of the night found them both atop a city
skyscraper, high above the blinking, shining lights of Tokyo. Far below,
the roar of the traffic was muzzled to a dull buzz. But up here the
stars were speaking louder in their twinkling silence.
	She stared into his eyes, the single red rose clasped in her
hands. He was giving so many memories in such a short time; everything
was happening so fast she could barely keep up.
	"Chaos," she began.
	"Shhh," he countered, placing a finger upon her lips. His silver
hair glimmered in the light of the crescent moon, and in that moment he
seemed a far cry from the malevolent Elven lord of Chaos. "Is this not
the glamorous night I promised you?" he asked quietly, his forehead
gently pressed against hers.
	Her smile faded as the image of the DreamMaster's smile returned
to her mind. She backed away, placing distance between them. Was he just
trying to make her forget about Helios? Or more than that, for her to
forget what he was going to inevitably try to do to Helios?
	"Are you just doing this to get to Helios?" she asked, standing
before the fencing that surrounded the rooftop. "Do you want me to
simply forget about him?"
	Some sixty stories below laid the city streets, now teeming with
moving cars and passers by. The winds were almost silent on this night,
yet she found herself cold.
	He stared out at the city lights. "Once, perhaps. Maybe I thought
that way a day or two ago. Seems much further away though."
	She glanced down at the red rose, the flower opening up its
petals. With a sigh begotten of thriving on the late night, the rose's
colour shifted from deep crimson to blue sapphire. Her fingers relaxed
around its stem.
	The rose suddenly broke apart, the petals picked up by a whirlwind
she could not see nor feel. The sapphire blossoms made their way through
the chainlike fence, drifting to the city streets far below like gentle
snowflakes.
	"Helios," she whispered.
	Her pale rouge eyes widened in hearing the delicate notes of a
recorder play music for her, reciting by memory the lullaby she had sung
earlier. Slowly she turned, eyes wide in seeing him there.
	He had suddenly appeared standing atop the narrow rim of the
fencing, more winds unseen and unfelt tugging at his garments and
letting his hair dance around his face. Lips pursed at the tip of the
recorder, he closed his eyes and allowed the magik to give the song a
new and vibrant life.
	Never before had she wanted to cry at the beauty of its melody.
But she did not want to cry again, not here in front of him.
	His breath hanging on one last, long note, he finished playing the
lullaby. "Our time together hasn't exactly been on the best of terms,"
he admitted, glancing down at the recorder. "And I can't exactly say
that I have been the best of hosts. But believe me when I say that you
are one of the most beautiful ladies I have ever encountered in my
lifetime."
	She tried to sort through her feelings, to sift through the
rivalries and the friendships that were drawing lines with her caught in
the middle.
	"Chaos, I...."
	Abruptly he turned his head, staring out at the grandeur of the
city lights. His eyes narrowed, as if sensing a change in the very winds
that were not even blowing.
	"There is just one last place I wish to go," he said. "and then I
will take you home. To your true home."
	He tried to evade her gaze, but she saw it clearly enough.
"Masaka," she whispered. Please, anything but that. Yet she could read
it in his eyes.
	It was approaching: the endgame.


	He stared up at the sign of the Fire River Temple. At the base of
its stairway they stood, awaiting in silence for the next few minutes to
fatefully play out the very last step.
	"Chibiusa-chan," he said, closing his eyes. "Wait here for me."
	He began his ascent up the stairs.
	She stepped forward to join him, only to be bounced back, the glow
of a barrier surrounding her. The sphere grew in size and intensity,
until a green orb had enclosed her within. There she hovered above the
street.
	"He's there, isn't he?" she cried out, frantically pounding on the
barrier. "Chaos, please don't do this! I love him!"
	He slowly opened his eyes once more, raising his head to stare up
at the Torii. "I know."
	With each step he took, her heart sank. "Chaos, I beg you," she
pleaded. "If our friendship means anything to you, don't do this."
	He paused at the top of the stairs, just beneath the towering
frame of the Torii. "I just want you to know that whatever happens, I'll
treasure your smile forever. Please don't hold this against me."
	"Chaos," she whispered. "Iie, Chaos."
	His eyes seemed fearful in catching sight of her tears. "Gomen
nasai, Chibiusa-chan. It's already done...."


	Half a crescent moon was shrouded behind a fleeting scrap of
cloud, but the rest of the heavens were alight with an armada of
twinkling stars. And it was this starlight that cast shadows upon the
Elven lord and the DreamMaster.
	"Where is she?" Helios demanded evenly.
	He simply answered, "Safe from harm."
	"So it has come to this," the DreamMaster said.
	The lord of Chaos nodded. "Indeed it has," he answered. "Poetic
perhaps that we meet here in a place where the magik of the spirits
still reside on Earth. This shrine is one last sanctuary of the world
where our magiks still count for something."
	A chorus of ravens sounded off, taking to the skies in sensing the
impending storm of raging powers. Everything within the boundaries of
the Shinto shrine itself was on edge.
	"This is the only time we have left to play my game," he stated.
"and because I respect you as a fellow summoned of magik and an
honourable opponent, I will let you chose how we fight."
	"What honour is there in battle where you steal whatever pleases
you?" the DreamMaster snapped. "I love Chibiusa, yet you have stolen her
from me not only by force but also by magik."
	He bristled at that cutting statement. "If she loves me," he shot
back. "Then it is by her own will and not my magik. I am being gracious
enough to let you chose the magik we wield. Do not insult my generosity,
Helios."
	"Very well," the DreamMaster said. "We're both skilled masters of
our arts, and because we come from different worlds our magik rivals
each other's. As you once said before, Chaos: anything goes."
	He grinned. "Sounds like fun."
	From the veranda of the neighbouring buildings, those of magik
watched. Unable to venture forward, forbidden to intervene, they could
only be spectators to the game.
	"Shimatta," the raven knight whispered. "Helios' magik is reaching
its peak."
	"What does that mean?" the blue-haired genius asked.
	The raven angel seemed to pale. "Helios was always a gentle soul.
But now his powers are so focused that he's dangerous for anyone to be
close to him."
	"Not just him," the shrine protege said. "Look at Chaos' battle
aura!"
	"This is no longer a game," Meikyu stated. "This is a lover's
battle, one that will only end when blood is shed and where either he or
Chaos dies."
	"This is madness!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed, taking a
step forward to intercede.
	"Wait," the raven knight countered, seizing the girl's wrist.
"Usagi, if you step into the middle of their battle, you will only
endanger yourself. Neither one is about to back down, and they will only
realize you're dead when their rage ends."
	Already the entire Shinto shrine was alive in pulsating magiks.
Furious winds were throwing back the Elven Lord's hair while equally
fierce gales were pressing the DreamMaster's clothes against his skin.
	"Then what are we supposed to do?" the tall brunette snapped
angrily. "Stand here and do nothing?"
	"Unless you wish to die in the next few moments," Meikyu said. "we
can only watch, and pray."


	The more she beat against the barrier, the more impenetrable it
seemed to become. As if it was a creature feeding off the energy of her
attempts to escape, growing stronger with each strike she made.
	She lowered her head against the curved surface, hot tears pouring
down her face. "Chaos, Helios; please don't fight. Don't do this. I
love...I love...."
	Her emotions were ravaging her entire soul, and no longer could
the bloodmagik of the Eternal Moon be contained any longer. A shaft of
burning silver light erupted from her as she screamed out his name:
	"HELIOS!!"
	The golden crescent moon shone from her forehead, bathing the
sphere in a blinding white light. The orb cracked around its seams and
then shattered, the broken magik littering the streets below.
	The entire street rippled as a wave of magik flooded through the
city, radiating out from her heart and soul. Had the force been of a
more physical nature, buildings would have been ripped apart and streets
torn to pieces. But this was magik at work, powerful magik: everything
rippled in distortion.
	One realm pushed against the next by sheer will of a pink-haired,
fourteen year-old girl who was much older than she appeared to be. With
a blast of light the magik engulfed the Shinto shrine, swallowing up the
souls her mind had already claimed for same passage into the sister
realm. Then she too was consumed, closing her eyes as she surrendered
herself to what was the last chance to stop the game.


	The world was but a level playing field of chequered mirrors, a
winding chess board with shining surfaces reflecting the images of its
players. Overhead a dark blue heaven echoed rainbows of Aurora Borealis.
	From his place upon a glistening, black square, the Elven lord
whirled in viewing the new arena. "A Dreamworld?" he exclaimed. "How in
the hell did we wind up in here?"
	Across from his place stood the DreamMaster.
	"More than just the Dreamworld," Helios said. "We are within a
place created by someone's dream. This is the playing field of someone's
mind."
	"Whose?" he demanded.
	And then there she was, at first like a ghost but taking in
substance until she came to life within her dreamfield. Fingers clasped
as if in prayer, hands against her breast, she pleaded with the two
fighters.
	"Both of you, please," she begged. "Don't fight! Don't make me
choose between you!"
	The folds of her royal gown shimmered a thousand shades of white,
lace swirling with the ends of her pink-tinted hair. The crescent moon
was still there on her forehead, though the explosive light was gone yet
not forgotten.
	Chaos' eyes narrowed at the sight of Helios. "Regardless of
whether or not Helios fights for your affections," he said. "I came here
to finish playing our game. His Imagika will be mine. Daijobu, Helios,"
he said, licking his lips in anticipation, savouring the sweat and blood
on his tongue. "I would never be so deviant to let you share my fate.
No, that would be too cruel. Be content to know that as the loser, you
will never feel my pain--or any pain for that matter."
	Helios' head bowed down, eyes closed in channelling the last of
the magik the Golden crystal could summon. A golden aura appeared around
the young man's body.
	"Chibiusa-chan, my maiden," the DreamMaster whispered. "I love
you. Whatever happens to me, please remember that."
	He growled.
	The first move was made by the DreamMaster.
	Throwing out a shockwave, Helios gave a loud shout as rampant blue
tempests swarmed towards Chaos. Golden horn aglow, Helios held nothing
back as the mirrored surface was shredded into tiny shimmering fragments
of glass.
	With a flick of his wrist the Elven lord dissipated the wave, only
to find a legion of shards forging together to form an eel-like head.
Rows of icicle teeth snapped from within crushing jaws as the beast
caught him off guard.
	He grunted as he was lifted off the ground, his chest slashed by
the creature. Strips of vest and garment laced with Elven blood dangled
at his sides. And the blood was green, dark and shining like an emerald.
	The eel's head came around for a second attack, pouncing upon his
fallen form. He sprang aside at the last minute, vaulting high into the
air as the beast's head burrowed into the mirrors. More shards were
thrown about the air, a multitude seeking out his body and digging cuts
across his skin.
	Chaos tumbled across the mirrors, chuckling as he watched the
eel's head shred itself from the jagged edges of the shattered glass.
	"Now that's impressive," he cackled, wiping the trail of emerald
blood from his mouth. "And here I thought the nightmares of the
Leviathans were all but extinct."
	"You're technically in my world now," the DreamMaster stated.
"Here my magik is the dominating force. You cannot win, Chaos."
	He gave a startled shout as it rained down fire from above, the
flames moving like liquid in rolling waves that plunged down upon the
Elven lord. The sounds of the crackling inferno drowned out his shout.
	She felt something twist in her stomach, her throat running dry.
For a split second she saw the smiling soul who had released a cluster
of cherry blossoms out into the night.
	She asked, "Is...is he dead?"
	But she already had her answer before it could be spoken.
	Chaos stalked out from the crackling pyre, everything but his
shining green eyes a silhouette amidst the flames. "I suppose you me see
me as some malevolent sprite, a creature of magik run amok with nothing
to call a conscious as he rampantly plays dangerous games with you
humans."
	He chuckled. "Words mean nothing to me. Reality is so much more
delightfully destructive. Here we are in a world we can tear apart at
will...and you're still not having any fun!!"
	Accompanied by an entourage of electric green magik, a tremor
rumbled across the playing field, ushering the way for a jagged tear
that broke apart the glassy surface. Helios threw out a defensive wall,
both magiks converging with devastating force.
	The playing field of mirrors shuddered violently as green aura
against blue created a dazzling sight of purple hues. "You will never
harm another person again!" the DreamMaster shouted.
	The Elven lord exploded from the epicentre of the two magiks,
lunging for Helios. "How do you like this game?" he exclaimed angrily,
the sadistic glee shining in his wild eyes.
	Helios gasped as a rapid blow sent the DreamMaster sprawling
backwards. Before Helios even had time to recover the glass beneath
shattered, giving rise to a new creature of faceted tendrils and a dozen
small mouths that snapped and frothed diamond-like foam.
	"Helios!" she cried out.
	Seized by the tendrils, the DreamMaster let out a strangled scream
as the glass monster dug tighter, breaking the skin. Crimson blood
stained the edges of Helios' torn garments.
	"Now what were you saying about whose magik was more dominant?"
Chaos inquired darkly, malevolent smile not about to disappear from his
face.
	Helios glared at him.
	Suddenly the beast shattered, reduced to a fine, sparkling powder
that disappeared into the black hole from where it had once arisen.
Panting for breath, DreamMaster and Elven lord faced off once again.
	Then she was between the two, arms stretched out in the hopes of
preventing a new conflict. "I didn't bring you here to see you kill each
other!" she exclaimed, the tears glowing on her face.
	"Then what did you bring us here for?" he asked coldly. "In this
realm Helios at least stands a chance. That's why you created this
dreamfield, ne, Chibiusa?"
	"This is the Dreamworld," she heard Helios whisper. "But why is
his magik just as powerful as mine?"
	"I am a master of the Elven magiks," Chaos replied evenly. "And my
magiks are but a small step away from the magiks of you and your
guardian angels. I have two Imagikas in my possession. No matter where
we are, we are evenly matched." He grinned. "And this time, you can't
cheat by sealing me away in a box."
	"Shimatta," the DreamMaster said.
	"Chibiusa, leave us," he stated, holding out an open palm to her.
	She screamed as a wave of magik carried her away, the mirrors
curving to shield a potentially fatal fall. Instead she rolled, tumbling
across the smooth surface.
	"Chaos," she whispered, coughing from the pains in her chest.
"Don't...."
	"My maiden!" Helios shouted, looking to her, looking away from
Chaos.
	He pounced, moving like a wildcat possessed. "You leave too many
openings in letting her remain, Helios!" he shouted, giving a kick to
the DreamMaster's side.
	Helios took more direct blows, unable to summon a magik that would
deflect the hits of Chaos. Finally he delivered a final uppercut that
sent the DreamMaster's body tumbling backwards.
	An aura of Elven magik was bringing light to the dreamfield,
surrounding him as he watched Helios' trembling body. "It ends here," he
stated.
	Rows of glass and mirrors were shattered as the vortex sucked up
the DreamMaster, churning everything in a hellish cyclone before
spitting out its contents across the dreamfield. Vest nothing but
tattered rags, hair matted and soaked against the skin with blood and
sweat, Helios' eyes slowly opened. The golden horn flickered out of
existence.
	Although the distance between them was vast, he took only a few
steps, bracing his body for one incredible incantation of magik. The
Elven aura radiated out from his body, electric green arcs flying across
the dreamfield. The black and white mirror plates began to shatter as
the lightening swept across the arena.
	She leaped to her feet and began to run. Run against time and
magik in the hopes of defending her beloved, her soulmate. How could
someone even think of such dark ambitions? If the Imagika was torn from
Helios, then what was the fate of the Dreamworld?
	"HELIOS!" she cried out, tripping in her gown and falling but a
few agonizingly long steps away from the DreamMaster.
	Chaos growled. "The final blow!" he proclaimed, raising his hand
to deliver the last, crushing attack of magik that would reclaim his
third Imagika, making him Lord Chaos once more.
	"Iie!" the odango-haired blonde screamed.
	Suddenly there the girl's hands were, holding back his own from
sending forth his magik. He stared at the odango-haired blonde in
surprise. "Who invited you?" he asked.
	"Don't do this," the odango-haired blonde pleaded. "Chaos, don't
kill Helios."
	"Uruseii!" he snapped, pushing the girl aside.
	Slowly Chaos stalked towards the shaking Helios, who was still
fighting to stand. "I can see now that you truly do love each other," he
said. "And perhaps one day you could have lived happily ever after in a
Faery tale palace. But I would never forgive myself if I simply stood by
and allowed that to happen!"
	She held her breath. "M-masaka," she whispered.
	Could it be that he was jealous?
	Jealousy. Rage. Vengeance. All were powerful motivators for magik.
Was this the fuel behind the Elven lord's furious attacks?
	Helios struggled to rise, pounded fiercely by the attacks of
Chaos. Not one strike was enough to severely wound the DreamMaster, yet
combined, the strikes were severe enough to prevent a counter-attack.
	"You sealed me inside that box for three thousand years," he
snarled. "I barely even remembered who I once was during my time inside.
Now I'm here in an arena that's changed more than I ever cared to
imagine, and I'm the only real playking left to make up new games that
no one else wants to play! How's that for a damned fine destiny,
Helios?"
	The attacks ceased, and the DreamMaster finally succumbed. She
watched in terror as Helios collapsed, barely even breathing as a
distant look swallowed up the sparkle in the DreamMaster's eyes.
	"I guess this is 'sayonara', DreamMaster," Chaos stated coldly.
"Round three: I win." A blast of Elven magik surged forth from his open
palms, a storm which almost seemed to possess a demonic face within in
raging towards Helios. This would surely be the last stand.
	She crawled the final distance between them, taking Helios' hand
in her own.  "Gomen ne...my maiden," the DreamMaster spoke in a hoarse
whisper. "In the end...I never could win."
	She frantically shook her head, the tears spilling down her face.
"What are you talking about, Helios? Wherever you go, I'll be there with
you."
	She moved herself over his body, hand to hand, face to face. The
glow of the rampant Elven magik was almost upon them, casting a pale
light on their faces.
	He feebly shook his head, though it was a faint movement on the
surface of the cracked mirrors. "Iie, Chibiusa-chan. Don't do this."
	"It's already done," she whispered, closing her eyes. Their lips
gently met with a kiss, and she hoped that this would be the last memory
for them both. She braced herself for the final touch of death.
	"I love you...."
	Yet she felt nothing, for the magik was searching not for her but
for the DreamMaster. The blast of Chaos' power simply passed through her
body, and then struck Helios. She felt the DreamMaster's body lurch,
pushing against her own and throwing her aside.
	"Helios!" she screamed.
	But what else was there for her to do but watch? Watch as Helios
was caught up in a churning pool of magik that hovered just above her
head. Small beams of light pounded Helios' chest, dying out as the
flawless Imagika emerged.
	It almost shocked Chaos to feel a small cold droplet on his skin.
 "What is this?" he muttered, wiping the water from his cheek. "Are
these tears?"
	Aurora Borealis exploded into fireworks, disappearing as the
colours fell to the dreamfield. Behind the clouds of smoke a dark storm
sweltered, slowly descending upon them. The rains began to fall, cold
and harsh, pelting everything that was outside and unsheltered. Each
droplet created a harsh ring that resounded off the smooth crystal of
the Imagika as it floated into his palm.
	Yet it never found a grasp, the Imagika falling to the mirrored
floors. As it struck the black panel of glass, the crystal bounced away.
Steadily it picked up speed until it bumped against its true master's
leg.
	"What have you done?" the odango-haired blonde whispered,
collapsing onto the glass. "You hurt them both. Just look at what you
have done...."
	"Iie," he said, stiffening, unwilling to submit.
	No.
	Impossible.
	Was he playing out this game for simple, petty revenge? He, an
Elven lord of Chaos? Was this a game after all? Had it ever been a true
Elven game? In frightening silence he saw their last few moments
together, and dared not interfere.
	She was cradling the DreamMaster in her arms like a mother to a
small child, trying to comfort them both despite her tears that fell
onto his cheeks.
	"Masaka," she cried bitterly. "It didn't have to end this way,
Helios. You can't leave me alone."
	Helios gave a weak smile, fingers reaching up to brush against her
pale skin. "It's alright to die like this, Chibiusa-chan. You can be my
last memory."
	Already the DreamMaster was starting to vanish, and she felt her
grip slipping through. "Iie," she cried, trying to hold Helios even
tighter. "I don't want you to die!"
	"Daijobu, my maiden," Helios whispered, now just a pale spirit
fading in the glow of small, twinkling lights. "Somehow I'll find a way
back to you. We...we have forever...."
	The DreamMaster's eyes slowly closed, almost beyond her grasp and
touch. In those final moments she had, Helios smiled once last time.
	"I love you, Chibiusa-chan."
	"Helios!" she screamed frantically, clawing at whatever was left.
"HELIOS! PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!!"
	She found herself unable to contain the storm within, breaking
down and burying her face into her arms as she sobbed where the
DreamMaster was almost gone forever.
	The next events conspired and transpired in the course of a single
heartbeat, both giving life and taking it within the span of that one
beating of the human heart. Two stolen Imagikas launched themselves into
Helios' ghostly body, and the DreamMaster lurched in her arms with a
startled gasp. Life was sucked into Helios' form, essence returning.
	Eyes wide, Helios slowly rose, staring first at her, and then at
a body that should have vanished without its Imagika. How was this
possible...unless something had happened to the Elven lord.
	Everyone slowly turned to Chaos.
	There the Elven lord stood: silent, grim, as the rains poured
down. Without so much as a word he lowered his arm, the Elven magik
still cracking in his palm.
	"Chaos," she whispered.
	A shocked look was across his face as he stared down at the new
magik crackling around his body. Then he dropped to his knees, still
unable to conceal the surprise.
	"N-na...ni?" he managed to stammer. He turned as a new ripple of
magik opened a gateway into the dreamfield.
	A tall, elegant young woman seemed to appear from the very shadows
that were cast around the mirrored surface. Long golden hair flowed past
the woman's waist, a small streak of blue accenting a set of bangs. A
dress of starless night seemed to cling to every curve and contour of
the woman's body, majestic yet seductive.
	But the eyes: they were of black pearl, shining and dark. To be
sucked into the gaze of those eyes and become lost forever was the
threat to all dreamers.
	"The Shadowqueen," the odango-haired blonde whispered.
	"How strange that I should meet you here again," the Empress of
Shadows remarked.
	She held her breath, unable to comprehend the presence of this new
ally. She had heard tales of the Shadowqueen, and the dangers this
Empress of the Night enjoyed to make use of. The odango-haired blonde
and the dark-haired prince were barely able to survive, and that was at
the cost of the Wanderer.
	"Why?" she asked.
	"If Helios lost his Imagika," the Shadowqueen stated. "then the
Golden Crystal which holds this realm together would be destroyed.
Everything, even the kingdoms I have seized, would cease to exist."
	The Shadowqueen glanced over at Chaos. "How ironic that once again
I must intervene to save your lives for the practicality of continuing
my own existence. This makes the second occasion it has occurred."
	"Chibiusa," came the whisper of her beloved.
	She looked at Helios, her own tears lost in the pouring rain. At
first it seemed too impossible to hope for, but then they tenderly
embraced, and the kiss of the DreamMaster proved it was real. The powers
that Chaos had gained were now bestowed upon Helios, giving enough magik
to restore the DreamMaster once more. Magik became the miracle.
	"What about Chaos?" asked the odango-haired blonde.
	The Elven lord was still kneeling, watching them all as he was
slowly erased from existence.
	"Let him fade away," the Shadowqueen answered coldly. "Without
even an Imagika working as a lock for the Pandora Box, he cannot survive
for much longer. So many mistakes are deserving of such a fate."
	"K-Kon chikusho," he growled.
	The Shadowqueen chuckled, sauntering around him. "Your own
recklessness brought this upon you," the Empress whispered into his ear.
"A pity, really; you would have made a fine warrior in my ranks."
	The Shadowqueen left his side, and he stood before them all.
Rising up as but a fading dream soon to be forgotten he looked to the
DreamMaster.
	"I tire of this game, Helios," he said bitterly, the weariness
evident in his voice. "I tire of this whole damned world. There's no one
left to play games with. Just...just let me sleep."
	"Chaos," the odango-haired blonde said quietly.
	In his own way, in his own words, the lord Chaos was conceding to
defeat. His form was already fading. Without the Imagikas, he was
disappearing like a forgotten dream.
	"It was a good game, ne?" he asked her.
	She smiled, unexplainable tears starting to fall down her face as
she approached the fallen Elven lord. "Hai, Chaos-sama."
	"I never did figure out who won in the end," he mused. "But at
least, we'll always have that one night. I wish it could have come under
better circumstances, Chibiusa-chan, but regardless, meeting you was the
best game I've ever had the chance to play."
	He knelt down and delicately took her hand in his, raising it to
his lips. A gentle kiss left her skin tingling. "Forgive me, Chibiusa. I
never meant to harm you in any way."
	Suddenly his body lurched, a ripple of magik breathing new life to
his ghostly essence. Startled, he stared at his hands, flexing his
fingers.
	"What is this?" he asked.
	Something was restored within him.
	It could only be the Imagika.
	"He deserves better than this," Helios said, looking to her and
not Chaos. "I know you would want it to end this way."
	She nodded, holding onto Helios' arm.
	Maybe there was hope for an Elven lord of Chaos after all.
	"Really, Helios," the Shadowqueen remarked, unimpressed. "You are
too generous a soul."
	"This is for her peace," Helios answered. "Not mine. I hope you
can appreciate that, Chaos."
	Now able to stand, the DreamMaster held out a hand. On the palm
appeared the seemingly innocent chest that had started it all. A Pandora
Box with an open lid awaited the Elven lord.
	He rolled his eyes. "Yare yare," he sighed. "You're a better
player than me, Helios. But don't tell me we have to repeat this in a
few centuries."
	She laughed despite the emotions within. It was good to see him
like this, one last time before returning to the Pandora Box.
	"In another thousand years, perhaps," he remarked.
	Helios nodded. "Until the next game."
	Chaos tilted back his head, arms crossed over his chest as he
surrendered to the magik of the box. His lower torso rippled in becoming
like a ghost, the transformation overtaking his entire body.
	An Imagika forged itself from the flowing winds of magik, a
flawless crystal that descended into the Pandora Box. With a final,
silent motion the lid of the chest closed, a sapphire growing over the
keyhole.
	The game had finally ended.
	"Chibiusa-chan?" the odango-haired blonde asked.
	She wiped away the stains of tears from her face. "Daijobu, Usagi.
Thank you for helping me."
	The odango-haired blonde nodded, and then future mother embraced
future daughter. That left the powers of the Dreamworld to look at each
other, uncertain of where they now stood.
	"Should we thank you?" the DreamMaster inquired.
	The Shadowqueen chuckled demurely. "You amuse me, Helios. Do not
think I did this selflessly. In time we shall fight again over kingdoms
and dreamers. But while I may regret that you survived this, I at least
am content in having a realm left to conquer."
	Helios' eyes narrowed. "As arrogant as ever."
	With a demure laugh, the Empress sauntered over to the odango-
haired blonde. Then the woman's eyes fell to her. "So, Usagi-chan, this
is your daughter. What a beautiful face."
	She blushed in staring into those eyes of shining, black pearl. So
alluring, this woman was, this Empress....
	"Don't you touch her!" Helios snapped, slapping away the
Shadowqueen's hand.
	No offense was taken. If anything the Shadowqueen loved to play
such fanciful games as the Elven lord did. Only the Empress seemed to
know how to exercise restraint as a player. With a seductive smile, the
Empress looked to the odango-haired blonde. "Sayonara, child. Until our
next fantasy together...."
	There the Empress of Shadows turned and disappeared behind a veil
of starless nights, trails of deep golden hair slowly taken with its
mistress. They watched the Empress leave, silent.
	Mirrors began to fade and the skies toppled over.
	They left the dreamfield.


	With a sigh, the raven knight leaned back against one of the
building's posts. The fusama was partially open, allowing for the cool
breeze of the early morning. Yet despite all that had gone on in the
past few hours, a place usually filled with dreamers and lovers was
nearly deserted.
	The raven angel certainly noticed this, looking around the room in
surprise. "Where is everyone?"
	"Where else?" the shrine protege replied.
	The answer was unspoken but understood regardless.
	"I can't believe they would do something like that," Sora sighed.
	"Hai," the masquerade wraith agreed, holding up a crystal that
displayed the front of the Shinto shrine with perfect clarity.
"Especially when they could have just stayed here to watch--and not get
caught in the process."
	Kishi and Yuichiro laughed, seating themselves down. The guardian
angels looked into the sphere and saw a young couple together beneath
the shadow of a Torii.
	Such a romantic moment being shared between two souls; the
temptation was more than they could resist.


	The world was itself once more: a quiet midnight heaven
overlooking a peaceful Shinto shrine on a March night in Tokyo. Alone
beneath the towering frame of a crimson Torii they stood, hand in hand.
A crescent moon in the sky shone its pale kiss down upon them, the
shadowy form of the Torii cast upon the cobblestone pathways around
them.
	He stared up into the sky, smiling as he felt the light a thousand
stars upon his face. "It was once said that you can only judge the worth
of a journey after you've reached the end of your soul's road."
	She leaned against his chest, safe and secure in his arms. "Any
regrets?"
	He laughed. "No, Chibiusa-chan, I don't. Perhaps that is what I
find the strangest thing of all. Despite all that he put us through, I'm
glad it happened."
	She held her breath as his fingers touched beneath her chin,
gently tilting up her head that their eyes might capture one another's
hearts.
	"It made me realize how much I truly love you, my maiden," he
whispered. "When the time is finally right, I will join you in the
future."
	She could feel her cheeks getting flushed as she became lost in
his kind eyes. "How much longer?"
	For a brief moment, a look of uneasiness captured his expression
as he looked to the midnight heavens. "The waiting is almost over. The
winds of change will soon be here."
	His gentle gaze returned to her, and he lowered his head, bringing
their lips closer together. She closed her eyes, wishing that this
moment would never end, that even after its passing it might be sent up
to the stars and remain there to mark this time in eternity.
	And then from a set of brush next to the entranceway, a set of
bushes rustled and tried very unsuccessfully to hide its giggles.
	He sighed. "Never a moment's peace."


	From their vantage point, they could see everything between the
branches and leaves of the shrubbery. Such a romantic moment being
shared between two souls; the temptation was more than they could
resist.
	"Do you think we've been spotted?" the long-haired blonde
whispered.
	"Only if you keep talking," the tall brunette retorted.
	"Aren't we invading their privacy?" the blue-haired genius
inquired uneasily.
	The odango-haired blonde giggled. "Come on, Ami-chan! Think of
this as just watching out for the two of them."
	Abruptly the dark-haired shrine girl stood up, nearly throwing the
odango-haired blonde off balance. "Would you mind not using my head as
an elbow rest, Usagi?!"
	"Shhhh!!" the long-haired blonde hissed. "You'll give us away,
Rei-chan!"
	The blue-haired genius tried once more to pull away. "Iie. We
really shouldn't be spying on them like this."
	With a coy grin the tall brunette remarked, "I notice you're still
here, Ami-chan."
	The blue-haired genius promptly turned a bright shade of red in
embarrassment, and then opted to lean over the long-haired blonde for a
better view.


	From within the walls of the Shinto building, a chorus of groans
went out.
	"I don't believe this," Kishi sighed, throwing some kernels of
popcorn at the crystal. "If the girls keep this up, the two will just go
away where we can't listen in!"
	Yuichiro nodded, leaning on the raven knight's shoulder and
stealing some popcorn from the group's bowl. "Helios could just take her
into the Citadel. We'd lose them for certain."
	Sora shook his head. "I just can't believe you guys brought
popcorn."
	The masquerade wraith suddenly appeared inside the room again,
grinning broadly. "Good news: I've finished putting the other viewing
crystals in place. Now we can watch them in surround!"
	"Have you no decency?" the raven angel lamented.
	Taking a seat, Meikyu quickly muttered an incantation and five
more spheres appeared, all aligned with their primary viewing globe. The
scene grew wider, larger, more focused.
	"We really shouldn't be spying on them," Sora said uneasily,
watching the romance be played out before them all.
	With a coy grin Meikyu remarked, "I notice you're still here,
Sora."
	The raven angel promptly turned a bright shade of red in
embarrassment, and then opted to sit down next to the shrine protege for
a better view.


	She shook her head in exasperation, wishing that the Wanderer
might appear to conjure up some lightening bolts and give them a chance
to be alone.
	"You know," he remarked quietly in her ear. "They're never going
to let up."
	She sighed, unable to keep from smiling none the less. "I know,
Helios. But just this once, let's forget about them. Right now nothing
else matters to me but this."
	DreamMaster and Tsukino child drew closer together, eyes slowly
closing as their lips met. His arms wrapped around hers, holding her
tight to never let go.
	And from two different places in the Shinto temple grounds, two
sets of gasps and cheers were sent up to the heavens.
	Yet they were oblivious, swept away in a moment of love and
passion that was destined to last more than just a mere lifetime. Here
was a love that would outlast eternity.


	He slept once more.
	It had been this way for almost one hundred years, and before that
almost for three thousand years. Time moved slowly, as it always had and
always would within the Pandora Box. The next chance he might have to
see her could be in a year or a thousand years from this one. But now he
was content to let it proceed for as long as it desired to.
	Liquid bubbles of deep blue surged.
	He was floating through a dream, wrapped in a strange cool myst
that kept his mind at ease. Frozen in magik, he slept with recent
memories as bedside companions. So many beautiful images dancing before
him, gone yet not forgotten.
	The words almost formed on his lips, yet were held back. He
understood who she loved, who was the better one for her to love.
	"Sayonara, Chibiusa-chan," he whispered, reaching out his hand to
caress her ghostly cheek. Yet it was he who possessed the form of a
ghost. But it didn't matter to him any longer.
	The liquid bubbles surged once more.
	He smiled one last time, choosing to close his eyes and allow the
evening's darkness to fall upon him.
	And there her quiet lullaby sang him to sleep.

=====================================================================

Tales of the Dreamworld, 10th Night: The Tale of the Stormsouls
Rated R


	Requiem: (n) 2. An invitation to rest or repose.
	  3. A dirge or solemn chant for the repose of
	  the dead. 4. A state or time of repose; peace,
	  quiet, rest.

				Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary


	Just as every life possesses an instance that can be brought to
life in words, the event becomes a chapter in a book, a story for
others to gaze upon and be swallowed whole within the realm.
	A realm beyond the waking hours, forged from the magik of a
thousand dreamers and their dreams. And with it, a sanctuary not so far
from us where the last earth magiks reside. Within every soul lies a
story to tell, each event a tale to give unto others.
	These tales, both surreal and sensual, are but a few of many
chapters in a world given breath by a creator. Her name is Naoko
Takeuchi. The people and their lives are of her heart and soul. They
belong in her embrace. But the creatures of darkness, and the Ancients
who watch against them, belong to another, and they are of my skin and
soul. I embrace his games and his magik as my own children.
	I ask that none may steal any of them away from their creators.
The world of the Moon Princess and her royal court belong to Naoko
Takeuchi. Their hearts and souls belong to her; they are a part of her
stories. But the realm of the last magiks of earth is a part of my own
story. Milady Naoko's princesses belong in their castles beyond the
moon, and those of the ancient magiks belong in their eternal battle
against each other.
	One of honour does not become a petty thief; I ask for your
requests if you wish for my characters to wander other worlds and other
stories.

		-His lordship Chaos  (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)
			http://neoharuka.interspeed.net/tales-dw.html



	"Love is Life, and Death at last
	 Crowns it eternal and divine."

				-A. Procter, "Life in Death" (last lines)



	Do you believe in ghosts?
	The supernatural has always been a part of our history.
Throughout time there have been stories--documented and otherwise-
about such creatures lost somewhere between life and death. They can be
kind or cruel, guardians or predators, watching us in the hopes of
rejoining a place where there is sanctuary.
	Some find it in sharing our joys and tears, others in hunting and
dominating. Their wandering souls are a reminder of both our death and
our life. Their powers bridging two realms, they do exist. And they are
among us.
	Do you believe in love?
	There have been stories where one's soul has returned to earth in
ghostly form because they refuse to give up the soul they possessed.
Their emotion is so great they remain tied to this world. Sometimes for
revenge. Sometimes to make amends. And sometimes to protect the ones
they left behind. But for whatever reason, sometimes their spirit
returns to haunt us. When this happens, no soul shall remain untouched
from their presence. From their power. From their reason for coming
back.
	Do you believe?
	Let me tell you a story....


	THE TALE OF THE STORMSOULS


	Amidst months of sweltering heat it arrives: purple clouds
marching through a black sky riven with lightening, thunder, storm-
force winds, and heavy, wet rain. Torrents pour down and nothing can
escape the onslaught. Sometimes such a tempest is expected, anticipated
if not sought after. But sometimes they come of their own force and
their own will, unleashing a display of power that is not easily
forgotten by those caught beneath its darkened heavens.
	The city had seen this storm gathering substance for days
already, the hours of sunlight long having been swallowed up by a
darkness that rivalled the night. For many of the people of Tokyo, now
was a time to brace themselves for the inevitable rage of the skies.
They were only expecting a storm. Yet within the rumbles and the roars
there was magik summoning itself into being, finally manifested by the
swarming armada of black clouds and chariots of lightening.
	Magik of the darker breeds, the work of mancers in the demon
arts. For days the storm had been gathering its strength, an uneasy
lull falling over the city as the people braced themselves for the
downpour. Yet the rains were only a sign of the true storm. But the
people did not know. They never could know even when the first of its
victims had been claimed. Not until then would the city begin to
understand the magik at work.
	And yet they still knew nothing.
	Here within such a forbidding atmosphere did it feel at home.
Such fear was at work here as this wondrous City of Lights tried to
cope with such a darkness. And if the fear was great, then the desire
to escape it was also great. Therein lied the secret of its hunting. To
fear meant to seek out an escape, and what greater escape was there
than in walking into your beautiful dreams.
	Oh, how easy it was to prey upon these sub-creatures!
	They knew so little of magik and its powers. They were all so
easy to hunt, to play with. What wonders these humans had forged since
it was put to sleep: now they possessed fire to give a city lights even
in the midnight hours. Yes, they possessed fire. But not the fire
magik.
	These humans had all but forgotten the ancient powers that be,
the forces it used and dressed itself in. This new world with its
flashing lights and loud noises had for the most part given it barely
even a second glance. A relic from long ago. A remnant of superstition.
And they were the ones who then lost their souls in forgetting that in
all legends lies a truth.
	No longer did they believe. But simply because they failed to
believe in a bogeyman didn't mean it did not exist. And here it was
given the gift to run rampant and free across this City of Lights.
	The first kill was out of necessity.
	The next one, and the one after that, and the one after that,
were brilliantly delicious. So pure and innocent these little boys and
girls were in the City of Lights. It had drawn them in with its
beautiful illusions so easily, it almost felt sorry for them. But what
was pity? What was mercy? Such words and ideals deserved nothing but a
mere distant thought dismissed even faster than their incarnation.
	Here in this new world it was free.
	No one knew how to stop it because they had forgotten magik.
	All but a few.
	And it was this handful of souls who were now bent on its
destruction. On such a night, as the winds wailed and the rain cascaded
down in thick sheets of wet darkness, it would have loved to howl
across the heavens and let the humans below learn what the ancient fear
was once like. Yet tonight it was racing for its life, the predator now
becoming the prey.
	Swiftly it moved, making but a swoosh even as it dove across
puddles and swept up waves of water to mask its frantic escape. The
City of Lights became a hazy pool it looked down into as it leaped onto
the rooftops. Howling gales swarmed all around its opaque form.
	But it was the Wolfen howls that it was running from.
	These ones were not mere human sub-creatures. They moved
differently, and what's more these ones were keepers of the ancient
magik of the Mysts. It knew their scent just as well as they knew its
own.
	They were the Mystwolves.
	It sprang off the edge of a skyscraper, watching the rain-pelted
streets below. So many people with so many beautiful dreams to be
seduced by. To let them see heaven, to let them feel the warmth of
paradise. Leaving their fears behind, it became their beautiful dream
to embrace. No one had ever resisted. Humans were so pathetically
predictable this way.
	But these Mystwolves were of Dreamworld breed, firstborns of
ancient realms and ancient magiks. They could track its scent, fight
its deceptively sweet magik, and bring to a crashing end its visions of
beauty.
	It landed once more atop steel grating. Beneath it warm steam
fought to rise up against the cold rain, shrouding its true form in a
hazy grey mist. Yet it did not take another step. For it was not alone
atop this roof.
	A shadowy figure emerged, a young girl. Even though the elements
of the raging storm were against her, she seemed more beautifully
dangerous than before. Her raven dark hair clustered around her
shoulders, dark violet eyes watching its every breath. It dared not
move.
	The girl's eyes abruptly flashed a blazing sunfire gold, slitted
cat eyes suddenly glowing from the shadows around her. She was not
dressed in that strange sailor-like battle fuku it had once seen her in
before. No, this time she was in human clothes with shades of black.
	It stiffened as it saw her eyes. Then her aura was as it had
first perceived. She was more than a mere human girl or even a
Mystwolf. She was the Darkqueen.
	"You cannot hide from us," the Darkqueen said, a flash of
lightening revealing her savage smile and wolfen fangs.
	It snarled, turning its head as but a whisper of winds echoed at
its back. Beneath the thrashing battle of thunders and lightening, the
sound was almost inaudible. Yet it heard everything.
	Now it was between two Mystwolves. One was the Darkqueen. The
other was her consort.
	"End of the line, youma," the Mystwolf stated, his voice colder
than the waves of rain washing over them. Thunder almost deafening
rolled past them. His own golden cat eyes were glowing through the
darkness.
	"Bastard wolfen," it growled, simulating a human voice. Oh how
primitive these words were. There had once been a time where almost all
life but these sub-creatures could communicate beyond words. It was a
wonder the humans ever managed to dominate the planet.
	A wave of steam spewed out beneath its feet, and it changed form.
No longer was it an opaque creature without actual form and possession.
Now it became human, a handsome young man with long silver hair and
piercing magenta eyes.
	"Why must you seek to destroy the paradise I create?" it asked,
its voice now deceptively sweet and alluring. "I am letting these
mortals catch a little glimpse of heaven."
	The Mystwolf growled, crouched low. "You know my face, don't
you?" he asked.
	"I know it well, Okami." It glared, those eyes long before etched
into its mind, burned there from a white-hot branding iron of a memory.
It would never forgive the Wolfen breed.
	"Then you know why I intend to rip your body to shreds," Okami
hissed, his ankh earrings glistening in the rain as they flapped around
in the tempests.
	Its own eyes flashed out in tints of sapphire fading to scarlet,
slitted cat eyes much like those of the Wolfen. "Perhaps one night," it
laughed. "But I sincerely doubt tonight shall be such a night."
	Magik it invoked.
	It became engulfed within a new blast of hot steam, its male body
smiling at the Darkqueen before it was lost in swirling cloud of fog
and mist. But its now rich and smooth voice was left to taunt them as
it was swallowed up.
	The storm was calling it to other places.
	New fears to feed from. New dreams to weave. New souls to steal.
And all in good time, it would kill these Wolfen who were hunting it
down like a mere animal.
	"Sayonara, Okami," it chuckled.
	The Mystwolf unleashed a violent hiss, clenching his teeth as he
lunged into the thick of the steam. Yet he emerged with nothing but
grey wisps quickly fading in the pouring rain.
	"Kuso," he said. "It got away again. The beast could be anywhere
beneath the storms now."
	She nodded, wiping away the pounding rain from her forehead.
Raven dark hair clung to her cheeks and neck, soaked and glistening as
the lightening streaked across the skies.
	"For now," she purred, stealing a long and sensuous kiss from his
lips. "But it cannot hide forever. Okami, my beloved, the night grows
dark and cold. We should return home."
	He bowed his head in reverence and respect. "Hai, my Queen."
	For now the chase had ended.
	But there would come another time....


	As a storm sweeps across the heavens, so does it cover everything
in a blanket of starless nights. Not merely shades of grey but of
blackest shadows brought to light only by the ferocious cascades of
lightening. Thunder becomes the only true sound that manages to echo
over the din of pounding rain and the wails of the winds.
	No part of the city remained safe from the storm's onslaught. Not
even a Shinto shrine which had seen magik of this sort before, but
never a magik like this. At this shrine destinies had been discovered
and intertwined, won and lost and then rediscovered.
	The masquerade wraith stood at the threshold of the veranda on
one of the buildings tucked away to the corners of the temple grounds.
For a time there was nothing much to do but watch the violent beauty of
the storm.
	With a sigh, the masquerade wraith closed the fusama. "I suppose
sooner or later we'll have to try to get home in this."
	Those who wore watches knew the time to be approaching the late
hours of the evening. Despite knowing that they could sleep in the next
day, they were all showing signs of restlessness.
	"I for one haven't seen anything like this before," the raven
knight agreed. "Even in the jungle forests, the storms were never this
violent or drawn out."
The candlelight in the room was outshone as a glow of white hot
lightening flashed through the paper partitions, followed by an echoing
rumble of thunder that faded only too slowly.
	The long-haired blonde grappled onto the raven knight, letting
out a playful, frightened shriek. "Ki-chan!"
	She smiled as Kishi stroked the cheek of the long-haired blonde
and said soothing words of charm and allure. The raven knight certainly
did have a way of knowing how to say the right words at the right time.
Her own fingers were laced with those of her raven angel.
	He smiled gently in nudging closer. "I must admit I'd be
surprised it this manages to frighten you, Mako-chan. After all, part
of your magik is rooted in the storm."
	She playfully tapped the tip of his nose. "Not as much as
Karasu's. But I wish he was here to make the rains stop even for a few
hours."
	He nodded, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her lips. "Hai,
Mako-chan. If I could, I would carry you above the clouds where there
was the light of a crescent moon to shine for only us."
	"How romantic!" the long-haired blonde sighed, leaning into his
lap.
	"Excuse me," the raven knight said, taking the girl's wrist and
pulling the long-haired blonde off his legs. "I'm the only one who's
allowed to charm you like that, Minako-chan."
	The entire room was lit up in glow and shadows as an armada of
lightening bolts streaked across the skies, accompanied by a convulsion
of violent thunder.
	"Wah!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed in absolute terror,
leaping up and latching onto the closest person around. "I'm scared,
Mamo-chan! Hold me!"
	The thunder passed them by, the candles once again casting a glow
of flickering lights across the room. Everyone seemed to regard the
odango-haired blonde with stunned amusement. All but her.
	"Usagi-chan," she said, looking thoroughly unamused. "Would you
mind not groping my fiancé?"
	The odango-haired blonde looked up to see him thoroughly stunned,
wide crimson eyes staring blankly out into space with hands frozen by
his sides. The girl giggled loudly, drawing back in embarrassment.
	"Oh! Gomen ne, Sora-kun!"
	He simply blinked, still trying to overcome the surprise taking
root in his mind. From the other side of the room, the masquerade
wraith and the raven knight desperately tried to keep from bursting out
laughing. They were not very successful.
	"Baka," the dark-haired shrine girl sighed, leaning back against
the shrine protege.
	Managing to snap out of his stunned reverie, he quickly settled
back down next to her. "Gomen nasai, Mako-chan," he said quietly.
	She laughed, her fingers lacing in with his. "You don't have to
apologize, Sora." She cast a mischievous grin at the odango-haired
blonde. "It's Usagi who should be doing that."
	"I said I was sorry!" the odango-haired blonde protested, having
now properly located the dark-haired prince and curling up in the young
man's arms. "You're all so mean to me!"
	"Daijobu, Usa-ko," the dark-haired prince said. "Mako-chan's just
teasing you."
	"You know what they say!" the long-haired blonde piped up. "Every
minute, a fool trips while running out to buy suckers!"
	Everyone was silent in puzzling over the latest muddled
expression.
	"That's it!" the raven knight exclaimed in exasperation. "I give
up!"
	"Minako-chan," the blue-haired genius said. "That's 'only fools
rush in', and 'there's a sucker born every minute'. Have you really
been studying enough?"
	A round of laughter went up as the long-haired blonde burst into
a fit of nervous giggles. He also found himself chuckling over the
mistake made innocently enough.
	His eyes caught the glimmer of the ring on her finger, the
figures of golden butterflies encircling a small diamondstone. For now
he would wait until that day, until the future became Crystal Tokyo.
	"We should be going soon," he whispered into her ear. "I don't
think the rain will let up before morning."
	She nodded. "Hai, Sora. Just give me a moment."
	"As you wish." He lingered with her touch for one more heartbeat,
and then quietly slipped out of the room and its commotion.
	She glanced over her shoulder as she watched him leave. She would
have to tell him sooner or later. But would it be best if she told her
friends first?
	"Mako-chan?"
	She looked up to find the innocent face of the odango-haired
blonde looking at her.
	"Ne, Mako-chan, what is it?"
	One expectant face after another turned to her, waiting for words
of either confirmation or denial. Some already suspected, like the
masquerade wraith and the blue-haired genius. She was grateful that
they kept their suspicions quiet.
	She took a deep breath, and began to speak.
	"I...I'm...."


	It waited within the shadows.
	A human face rippled amidst the darkness, one second hideous now
handsome. There was a blur of long silver hair and piercing magenta
eyes before it was consumed by its envoy of shadows. Such darkness was
easy to hide within, awaiting the time to let them all find their
beautiful dreams come to life.
	So long as the Mystwolves did not interfere, this City of Lights
would become its first city. When it had taken its fill of the
innocents here, it would move on to a second city, and then a third,
and so forth. No one here believed in the ancient magiks. Here amidst
these noisy carriages and strange glass towers, it could rule as king
of its own heaven.
	It smiled with human lips, chuckling with human voice as it
stepped out into the storm. A grey outline of its body was barely even
visible, dispersed by the rains before a second step was made. Yet its
magenta eyes remained, seen only if a human looked close enough.
	The young man with a braid of raven wing hair had stepped out
onto the veranda, keeping out from the rain. He stared out at the
temple grounds for minutes on end, solitary yet not quite alone. So
beautiful he was; for a split second it had first mistaken him for a
girl. So gentle a soul and so delicate those crimson eyes.
	It wanted his eyes.
	Those two crimson eyes shifted, pausing and staring right at it.
It's own eyes narrowed, and it flickered out of existence even more
than before. A forgotten ghost.
	Had this human seen it?
	Yet how was that possible?
	His consort stepped out behind the young man, an equally lovely
young woman whose long chestnut brown hair and athletic body made it
crave her all the more.
	"Something wrong, Sora?" the girl asked.
	The young man shook his head. "Iie, Mako-chan. Just the storm. It
feels almost as if the heavens are crying out, and we can't understand
how to heal its pain."
	Its eyes flashed crimson and slitted.
	"Are you ready?" the boy asked.
	The tall brunette nodded, and then together they leaped out into
the rain, trying to keep themselves dry with their umbrella. The two
were laughing as they splashed through the puddles on the cobblestone
path.
	Without so much as a second glance they passed it by; indeed if
that young raven-haired man had felt its presence, that was by sheer
coincidence.
	It smiled darkly at its newest targets. There was something
strangely alluring about them both. Male and female, they were all in
love, bound by something that seemed to echo of destiny and magik.
	And they both had such beautiful dreams.
	"Makkurono Sora...Kino Makoto," it whispered, staring out at the
crashing rains. "You two shall have the honour of being the first to
catch a glimpse of heaven."
	The face of a young man started to take shape, one that the
Mystwolves had seen upon the rooftops. And those same two wolfen were
out on the prowl again tonight.
	It would have to leave for now.
	But it would return. Most certainly return....


	The rain was still pelting against the windows, though the
lightening and its escort of thunder had faded. Leaving his soaked
clothes in a pile on top of her own damp garments, he changed into a
pair of shorts. His damp braid of hair was cool as it dangled against
his back.
	For a long time he stared out beyond the pane of glass into the
darkness beyond. The city of Tokyo seemed to sparkle through the blur
of water droplets. Such a beautiful city of lights out there in the
midnight heavens.
	He glanced back over his shoulder as she emerged from the
bathroom. A towel around her shoulders as she tried to dry out some of
her hair, she drew closer to him, standing over his shoulder as he
watched the rain fall.
	"Is it still raining?" she sighed, tossing the towel upon her
futon.
	"Sometimes even an act so violent can be a thing of savage
beauty," he said, writing her name in the steam at the base of the
window.
	"It is an impressive storm," she agreed, scrawling his own name
next to hers. He was almost caught off guard as her fingers wrapped
around his chest.
	He turned away from the window, leaving the rain-spattered glass
to its own displays. Strange that tonight he was so introspective;
there was just an unspoken magik within the storm that gave him this
sense of uneasy serenity. Everything seemed to be moving by in a blur
of near forgetfulness since an entourage of ravens had watched him pull
out beyond a mirror's reflection to be with her.
	She cooked, he cleaned. They dined together, sometimes by
candlelight and sometimes in front of a movie. Other times they treated
each other to surprise dinners at restaurants. He smiled at one memory
that pushed aside all the others: through connections with the woman
with aqua-green hair, he had managed to find seats for two on the
rooftops of one of the most classiest restaurants in the city.
	That first night, and all the others after it, had been of pure
magik shared between them. No one at the high school seemed to speak of
their relation in ill will or contempt. If anything, they seemed to
sigh wistfully over it.
	He would never allow anything to harm her.
	Yet the heart of an angel was delicate, fragile even in her
hands. Even as her ring sparkled in the lights of the apartment,
something within his stomach tightened. The sense that everything was
going to change.
	As if this might be their last one like this together.
	He took her hand, guiding it to his chest. Her palm was warm
against his skin. Gently he pulled her closer, and still kneeling upon
the bed she drew forward and closed her eyes. Their lips met in a
tender kiss that seemed to last for eternity within the beating of
their hearts. As they reluctantly drew away, eyes slowly opening in the
ecstasy of the moment, he swivelled around to sit on the edge of their
futon.
	"Do you love me?" he asked quietly.
	She smiled, laughing as she draped her arms over his shoulders,
her warm breasts against his back. "What kind of a question is that,
Sora? Of course I love you."
	He stared out to the darkened heavens beyond their window. For a
moment he considered speaking, and then withdrew. "Gomen, Mako-chan. It
was rude of me to ask that."
	She brushed aside some of her long chestnut brown hair. "Then why
ask it?"
	"I don't know," he answered. "Just a strange feeling as if
tonight something was coming to pass, something in our destinies that
was inescapable. I cannot quite describe it; a taste of fate, perhaps."
	She glanced over to the bathroom. Lying in there was the truth
she had been questioning for over a week. And now everything was known
to her, but not to him. For two days she had asked herself how to tell
him, how to tell the others.
	What was the best moment?
	She placed her hand upon her belly, looking down at it. Somewhere
within, a tiny heart was beating in unison with her own. "Sora-chan,"
she said. "There...there's something I need to tell you."
	He turned, that quiet smile on his face. He was willing to hear
whatever she had to say. There had never been a time where she feared
his words. If anything, she feared her own words in his presence.
	She opened her mouth, yet the words she spoke were somehow choked
in the moment. Was she hesitant in telling him? Yet she was certain of
how he would react. His crimson eyes looked at her with quiet
dedication; for so long he had guarded her beyond her dreams, and now
it was his warmth she felt just before falling asleep.
	His fingers reached beneath her chin, lifting her face so that
their eyes might gaze into one another's. He was wandering in her
emerald forests once more, content on being forever lost.
	Finally she decided to say nothing, instead taking his wrist and
guiding his hand to her belly. No words would need to be spoken. For
within her was magik, and within him there was also magik.
	Eyes of crimson serenity widened.
	"A child?" he whispered.
	She nodded shyly, almost embarrassed by her state in all this.
All that time she had been feeling sick, thinking it was just a virus.
Yet it proved to be more; this was life, a new life inside of her. This
child shared the magik of two realms, and already she found herself
unable to control a maternal instinct creeping into her heart.
	Tenderly he embraced her, holding her close in his arms. "I swear
I will let nothing happen to either of you," he vowed in but a whisper.
"Mako-chan, I love you...now--"
	"And forever," she finished, her cheek nuzzling against his own.
In his arms she felt safe, a strange idea given just how fiercely
independent she had once been and still was.
	For a long time they held each other, cheek to cheek. Slowly they
laid down side by side on the bed, lost in the gaze of their eyes.
Hands clasped together, no mere words could have given such emotion to
the magik they shared in those quiet moments.
	"She will be beautiful," he said. "Just like her mother."
	She stared at him in surprise. "You can tell just by touch? This
early?"
	He nodded, unable to hold back his laughter. "Hai, Mako-chan.
Feel the warmth of your daughter's magik."
	He took her hand, placing it on her growing belly. His own hand
rested upon hers, the magik working through them both. She could feel a
tiny heart beating, and a mind that was slowly discovering the magik it
was destined to be born with. And somewhere in their distant dreams she
heard a tiny voice whisper, "mommy".
	A tear ran down her face as she cuddled next to her raven angel,
unable to speak. That voice was so beautiful, and it was a part of her
now. A part of them both.
	That hour they came together once more, making quiet love. His
wings of raven's feathers wrapped them both up in soft down and kept
them warm throughout the night. After the moment of ecstasy she fell
asleep in his arms, and as she slept he watched her with quiet
dedication.
	A child and a mother.
	"Now and forever, my Mako-chan," he whispered, kissing her face.
"I shall never stop loving you. Both of you...."


	A new day had come, but while the sun rose to greet the morning
skies, there was no daylight for the people of the city. Once again
black heavens pulsated high over their heads as a steady drizzle rained
down. There was no thunder or lightening, nor were those displays of
magik necessary.
	They held hands together, walking out through the rainfall
beneath a large umbrella to keep them dry. Arm in arm they window
shopped.
	"Can you believe this weather?" she sighed, kicking at one of the
puddles. "I don't think we've seen sunshine for a week."
	"Clouds cannot remain here forever," he said. "If the storm
decides to stay, there's always magik to force it back."
	She laughed. "And I suppose you'll be the one to do that?"
	He gave a shy grin. "Actually, Meikyu would be the better man
since he's the aquamancer. But I think I could help."
	She abruptly stopped them, staring into the window of a crafts
shop. Emerald green eyes widened as something inside caught her full
attention. "Wait right here!" she said excitedly. "I'll be right back."
	"What are you going to buy?" he inquired.
	She gave him a playful wink. "It's a surprise. No peeking, Sora-
chan!"
	Through the window he could see her disappear into the back
galleries of the store. He didn't mind that he was staying out in  the
rains; the fresh and moist air reminded him of those distant mountains
and fields that had once been his kingdom. How long had it been since
he had last seen that one Dreamworld?
	A moment passed in where he regretted having left that place,
until he saw her face from behind the window, still scurrying around
the store. He smiled; she was the reason he had been able to cross
over. That would be something he never could nor would regret.
	His eyes caught sight of someone walking his direction. Strangely
enough this young man was enjoying the rainfall without an umbrella.
That in itself was not quite strange, but it was the man's eyes:
piercing magenta that echoed of something magik. But magik was almost
completely lost to this realm; he dismissed it as the storm's work.
	They did not quite regard each other as they passed. That is,
until they came shoulder to shoulder. Each one took another step, and
then stopped.
	He slowly turned as he brushed past this young man.
	A chill went up his spine, a cold dark feeling not from the
storms but from something else. But then what else could be giving him
such an eerie sensation? And then he recognized the driving force
behind it all: magik. Dark magik at that. He had just brushed shoulders
with something not human, yet dressed in humanity's skin.
	The stranger too paused, glancing back. Had it had detected his
own aura of a raven angel?  "You can sense my powers?" the young man
asked, visibly surprised. Piercing magenta eyes flashed a scarlet evil
of ancient centuries long forgotten.
	"Youma," he said, his own crimson eyes narrowing.
	The young man turned around to face him, never losing that dark
smile. "And here I thought I was one of the only mancers of magik left
on Earth. It appears I was mistaken."
	"What are you?" he demanded in a low voice.
	The young man chuckled. "Call me Tenshi. All my friends do." Such
an alluring voice to go with that alluring face. "And what, pray tell,
should I call you?"
	There was black hostility, the young man's lips being licked in
anticipation. He took a step back, knuckles whitening around the
umbrella. And he never spoke a word though his eyes said enough. What
an ironic curse that the man's chosen name meant 'angel'.
	"A shame it had to come to this," the young man stated. "I could
have given you your most beautiful of dreams."
	And then those human eyes were for but a heartbeat replaced with
its true eyes: flashed out in tints of sapphire's scarlet, slitted cat
eyes much like those of the Mystwolves. But this creature was not one
of the ancient wolfen.
	This creature was something altogether different.
	Altogether evil.
	It snarled, low and guttural, smashing its fist into the ground.
An enormous shockwave tore through the sidewalks, throwing up a cloud
of debris that raged towards him.
	His eyes widened, flashing in burning crimson. A glowing wall of
scarlet magik suddenly vented itself out from the ground, rising up to
absorb the force of the attack. The entire street trembled at the
impact.
	The umbrella was lost, clattering across the streets before being
mowed down by a car. The rains were all around him now; in only a few
seconds he was soaking wet. But all that really mattered in that moment
was the youma.
	With a loud shout of incantation he launched an attack, sending
forth tempests of pure, raging wind. The air became so condensed it
shimmered not like glass but ice. The young man lurched in trying to
dodge the attack.
	It rolled across the sidewalk as the winds punched holes into the
cement, rising up only to see him right before it. A point blank blast
of magik sent it reeling backwards, blood spraying out from its
shoulder.
	The youma in the guise of a young man topple backwards, sliding
through a river of water. Although the movements were slow, it still
rose again too quickly. It lifted a finger to its wound, quickly
tasting its own blood before the pouring rains washed it all away.
	He pushed back the bangs clinging to his damp forehead, the magik
of the whirlwinds circling around his body. She had not yet emerged;
perhaps it was better she wasn't outside and caught in the middle of
all this.
	The youma chuckled, taking a flying leap as if it were a mere
skip before landing upon the top of a streetlamp. Its eyes narrowed,
another guttural snarl escaping its mouth. All he saw was a blur
crashing through droplets of rain before the demon smashed into him,
pushing him across the street and upwards into the air--until he felt
something shatter around his back.
	He gave a strangled cry as he tumbled onto the floor of the
office building, picking himself up from the field of shards littering
the floor. Suddenly powerful fingers seized his neck, spinning him
around and lifting his feet from the floor.
	The young man had him by the throat, hoisting him out the broken
remains of the window with but one arm. Rain pelted against his face,
cold water mixing with a new, warm sensation that ran down his cheek.
	Blood.
	The sidewalks and streets were a dizzying three storeys below,
crowds starting to gather and gawk at the deadly spectacle of warring
magiks. His legs were feebly kicking in the air, his lungs starting to
burn. This creature's magik was neutralizing his own; whatever it was,
it was powerful!
	"Impressive," it snarled, clenching its fingers even tighter
around his throat. "You actually managed to cut me."
	With a vicious motion it hurled him through the air, trying to
smash him into either the road or an oncoming car. For a dizzying few
seconds, the world around him spun as he plunged to the puddle-ridden
streets. Car headlights glared in his eyes. Suddenly two enormous wings
of raven feathers unfolded from his back, catching the tempests as he
spun around, hovering over the traffic. A car gave a frantic honk as it
swerved to barely miss him, crashing into a lightpole. Fists clenched,
he summoned churning typhoons that circled around his hands.
	The young man blinked in surprise as it dropped back onto another
lightpole. "Can it be?" it hissed. "A raven angel here in this world?"
	He sucked in his breath, even more on the defensive now.
"Masaka," he whispered. How could this beastly monstrosity know of
guardian angels and Shadowdemons?
	"Then it was indeed the Dreamworld magik I sensed when we crossed
paths," the creature hissed. "Yare yare, and here I thought having
Mystwolves in the city was trouble enough."
	Mystwolves?
	Yet there was little time to think as the youma lunged again. He
recoiled as something hot and sharp ran down the side of his face. It
moved fast, faster than he could react even with his own heightened
powers of magik. He was raised into the air, not pushed but lifted from
a blow. Crashing back down into a pool of water, thoroughly beyond
soaked, he struggled to regain his senses.
	The coat and shirts that had been so very clean at the start of
the day were in shreds, soaked with mud, rain and blood. The umbrella
was long since being lost. Crimson eyes watched as the guise of the
young man stood there before him.
	It was being completely passive now, if not reflective.
	And then he saw her face in the window.
	She cried out his name, racing for the doorway. He saw her try.
It saw her try as well. With a savage gesture, the young man unleashed
a wave of magik that blew back the door and shattered the storefront
windows. She was sent sprawling backwards, unharmed but still in
danger.
	"Mako-chan!" he screamed, whirling to the demon. "Damn you!"
	He charged, throwing out his arms with a tempest of whirlwinds
that tore apart the entire sidewalk. The demon was forced to summon its
own barrier, and then broke through the attack.
	Beams of scattered magik struck his body, pushing him back.
Without a grip on the watery sidewalks, he was neatly send sliding
backwards, almost toppling over. A flash of movement caught his eyes,
and he jerked aside his face. But he was not quick enough, his throat
closing up again as fingers wrapped around it.
	Crashing momentum send them both into the air, where it hovered
and he hung. The dancing form of a long braid the colour of raven wing
fell to the water-soaked streets below. Numb fingers reached back to
feel the ends of chopped hair near the base of his skull.
	It said nothing, though he could read the evil in its eyes.
	His face was torn, and he could feel the hot blood pouring down
his cheeks. The world was reeling from its grip on his neck, and
everything was being lost in a strange blanket of fog.
	"You have such a pretty face," it whispered savagely. "I only I
wish I had time to steal your soul. But killing you will bring enough
satisfaction for the time being."
	He lifted his head, staring defiantly into its human face. No, he
couldn't lose. He would refuse to let it see him fear it. For her, he
had to be strong.
	"There are others like me," he said. "If I cannot destroy you
now, then they surely will."
	It smiled, leaning closer until their lips were just a breath
apart. "But what good will it do to a fallen angel?" it whispered.
	And then came the pain, incredible and overwhelming. Everything
in his body went completely numb. Her image flashed before his eyes, of
her smiling face and long, chestnut brown hair. She smelled like the
sweet forest in early morning.
	He opened his mouth, convulsing once as he coughed out blood.
Something had burrowed through his chest, and as he glanced down he
could see the right side of his ribcage splattered with scarlet
droplets now turning into rivers of the same colour.
	"I'll savour your taste forever," it whispered, giving him one
last kiss on the cheek. It chuckled, withdrawing its hand.
	The clamp around his neck was suddenly gone. Everything seemed to
float around him. And then a sharp pain racked his entire body as he
struck the sidewalk, followed by the sting of cold water drenching his
already soaked body.
	For a moment he thought he heard the distant scream of his name
being called. The youma had already disappeared, fading away into the
storm which it had always lurked within. The world grew distant if not
like a dream.
	Earth was fading like a dream.
	And then there she was, kneeling over him, cradling his head in
her lap as she looked down at him with trembling emerald green eyes. So
sad, her eyes were.
	"I-Iie," she whispered. "Sora--"
	Her voice became choked, and she could speak no further.
	"Mako-chan," he coughed, the rain washing away the blood from his
face.
	So cold. The world was growing so cold....
	"Don't talk," she gently chided, cradling his broken body in her
arms. "Everything will be alright, Sora."
	In that moment she appeared to be just like an angel, his own
beautiful angel with silken white wings. Despite the grey downpour and
the howl of the winds, everything seemed to be at peace as he reached
up to let his fingers caress her cheek.
	Just like an angel....
	"Our child," he coughed, trying to let his eyes focus on her one
last time. No matter how hard he could try to deny it, he knew what was
happening. His voice was growing weaker. His body was growing colder.
	"Hai, Sora," she said, clutching his hand.
	"Our child...she will be just like her mother."
	If she was crying, then her tears were lost in the downpour. She
brought out a small teddy bear, and let him feel it in his hands. That
was to be their first gift for their child.
	"Everything's dancing...." he whispered, staring out into the
heavens beyond her. If only he had one last chance to be with here
again, one last time to dance inside their dreams, one final moment to
say 'I love....
	His grip within hers was lost, fingers sliding out amidst the
rain. His hand fell to the ground, splashing into a puddle of crimson
water. The teddy bear tumbled down the sidewalk, facedown in a pool of
rain.
	The raven angel had died.
	And somewhere across the expanse of the city, a raven knight, a
shrine protege, a masquerade wraith and a Mystwolf consort felt the
chilling ripple as Dreamworld magik died with the last beating of his
heart. The ripples crossed beyond the boundaries of worlds, reaching
into the heart of Illusion and stretching its waves into the Sanctuary.
	Everyone who felt the wave straightened up, staring with wide
eyes into the heart of a city beneath the storms. And there, within the
city and beneath the very heart of the storm, she clutched her beloved
tighter than before, unable to stay with him yet unwilling to leave.
	"Iie! Iie! IIE!! SORATA!!!!"


	Sometimes it was strange to exist on the crossroads of time and
space. Other times it was lonely, with hardly a soul to talk to. How
old was she now? That guess was almost lost to even her.
	As the guardress, bearing the sacred key-shaped staff that
controlled the gates of time, long ago she had been charged by Chronos
to ensure that no one abused the portal. There had been a warning at
the time by the Ancient.
	The time guardress sighed, glancing from scene to scene that came
to her in a series of cascading images of places and events. In this
one children were playing in a park. In the next, an ancient serpynt-
dragon duelled with a knight. And in the third was the obscured image
of a city destined to become legend in the not-so-distant future.
	She turned as a new portal began to appear, mysts of time parting
to allow passage for but a single soul. Out from the grey fog appeared
the Wanderer, dressed as she had always seen him. But this time the
shades were missing to display very stern if not angry blue eyes.
	"This is the first time you have ever come into my realm," the
time guardress said, taking no surprise to the appearance. Perhaps she
had known he was coming all along.
	"I have added power with Morpheus' Imagika," the Wanderer
answered, closing the gap between them. "And I'm enough of a master of
illusions to know how to properly trick your own portal into opening
for me."
	"I'm impressed with your accomplishment," she said.
	"I won't lie and say I came here just to catch up on old times,"
he stated. His voice was even in tone, but cold none the less. "Why
didn't you say anything about this? You could have done something to
prevent this from ever happening!"
	She spun her staff, walking around one of the mirrors of time.
Her watery reflection appeared in behind the scene played out. "If you
are referring to Sora's death, then I am sorry. But I can do nothing.
You know the dangers of paradox, Karasu. Collecting them seems to be a
hobby of yours."
	The Wanderer's fist clenched even tighter; he was biting his
tongue to keep from saying something that might put a tear into their
friendship. As much as she respected him for his honesty, she respected
him even more for that.
	"Dammit, Setsuna!" he exclaimed finally. "You once told me that
when the Wiseman attacked Crystal Tokyo, the guardian angels returned
to the Dreamworld to do battle. Now Sora is dead. Did you foresee that
in the future too?"
	"I never said anything to the contrary either," she replied.
"Karasu, time is not as simple a magik to work with as you might think.
Paradox shadows me wherever I choose to go. But I said that the
guardian angels would return to the Dreamworld for a time; I did not
say who returned or how many were alive to return."
	For what could have been an eternity or a second in her own eyes,
they simply watched each other. Then the Wanderer backed down, visibly
just as verbally. For a time he stared into another mirror of time. The
season of winter was fading with the March month, lingering just a few
days longer.
	He propped up his arm against the surface, resting his head
there. Pennant blue eyes staring into the mirror's world.
	"Just days ago, Rei-chan had her birthday. Everyone but you were
there at the Sanctuary. That was the last time I saw him alive,
Setsuna. And I never had a chance to tell him anything."
	His forehead gently rested upon the glass, eyes closing for a
moment. "Yui-chan...it was the same for her. There was nothing I could
do for either of them. Out of us all, he wasn't the one who deserved to
die like this. Kishi, Okami, Meikyu, even Yuichiro now that he has the
powers to fight; we are all hunters and warriors. If given the chance,
we all would take up our magiks and attack. But Sora...Sora was never
like that. A gentle soul. His only reason to ever fight was out of the
necessity to protect. That's why he became a raven angel."
	"You're blaming yourself for something that you were never even
there for," she said. "Sora chose to engage the youma in battle. He
knew the possible consequences."
	"I should have sensed something though!" he snapped angrily, more
directing inwards than projected at her. "Dammit, Morpheus left me in
charge of the Sanctuary. I should have felt the magik of that demon
before it even got close to Sorata."
	Karasu glanced around this realm one more time. "I need to go.
Usagi and the others would want me to be there for Makoto. I can fool
my sphere of illusion to letting me go, if only for a few hours."
	He turned to leave through the same illusion as he had come.
	"I'm afraid you cannot," she countered.
	The Wanderer's eyes suspiciously turned to her. "And just exactly
why do I have to remain in your null zone?"
	The time guardress gave an enigmatic smile. "Thanatos' request."
	He sighed, shrugging. "Figures. But at least he could have told
me something about this. I hate it when the Ancients decide to step in
without previous notice."
	"Do you believe in the Bogeyman?" she asked, leaning against her
key-shaped staff.
	The Wanderer lifted his head, replacing the shades over his
crystal blue eyes. "Which ones?"
	"Earthen Bogeymen," she replied. "I know just as well as you how
rampant Bogeymen are in the Dreamworld. But do you believe in the
Bogeymen of Earth?"
	The Wanderer laughed in spite of his frustrations, shaking his
head in weary disbelief. "I personally have yet to meet one," he
answered, staring into a mirror of time. "But I believe in its
familiars."
	Beyond the face of the mirror a child was laughing upon a swing.
So peaceful and innocent. Why did the world have to be against such
laughter?
	"Then why do you believe that everything has ended?" she asked.
"The battle is not yet over. Not for you. Not for Sora. Not for
anyone."
	He turned away from the mirror, the impact of her words taking
root in his mind. Yet as open as his mind was through being a lost
soul, some things still escaped his grasp.
	"What do you mean?" he asked.
	Her response was with another question: "This demon is still
alive, isn't it?"


	A day had passed, and the day into night, neither one seeing the
light of the sun. The rains had stopped but the blackest of clouds were
still overshadowing the moonlight. In a few short hours the sunlight
would be denied its brilliance. It had been this way for days on end,
and would continue until a new deception was desired. The people of
this City of Lights would begin to suspect the magik, and be on their
guard. Soon the storms would end. And then a new illusion of deadly
beauty would seduce another innocent soul.
	Here at the Shinto shrine, no one was around. It was an empty
place at this hour. And thus all the more reason for magik to present
itself. A lone, solitary raven alighted the frame of the torii, giving
a loud mournful caw. Cocking its head, the raven watched the moonless
sky, waves of black clouds moving forth but never separating to reveal
a midnight heaven.
	The raven was joined by another.
	And then another.
	And another.
	And yet another upon another, each one alighting the torii. They
gathered together, converging upon the towering gateway between worlds.
Once before had these ravens converged to usher in a crossing over. Now
the time had come again for another step beyond boundaries to be taken.
Yet this time the step taken would be a new one for them all.
	The ravens remained undisturbed as there was a brief flash of
grey that shot through the trees surrounding the temple grounds. In
fact the ravens seemed to be expecting it.
	A lone young man landed beneath the torii, crouched low to the
ground. The form was human, but the eyes and fangs and magik were of
ancient wolfen blood. The Mystwolf growled, paused beneath the crimson
gateway, sniffed, glanced at the eerie shadows of the towering frame
cast upon the cobblestones in the streetlights.
	The Mystwolf was also awaiting for something.
	The wait was not long.
	An entourage of ravens seemed to throw themselves into a fury,
soaring in a cyclone around the crimson torii at the front of the
Shinto temple. The Mystwolf became lost in a frenzy of wings and
feathers; even when the ravens dispersed and returned to their perches
upon the torii, the Mystwolf was gone.
	And then there he was, no longer confined to a spectral form
beyond common sight. The ends of a severed braid dancing over his
shoulders in the breeze, he studied the surroundings. The gentleness
was gone. The compassion swallowed up. Instead there was only grim
vengeance. In crossing over something had been lost, buried deep in the
back of his mind. For now he was not allowed to find it.
	He ran his fingers down the side of his face, touching the
features of a raven angel. Everything was coming back in scattered
fragments that could be called memories. Raven wing hair fluttered
around his face.
	A spectre in his mind's eye watched.
	His senses were reeling. This body was listening to a beating
heart blocks away, catching someone's laughter over the pouring of wine
in a restaurant, smelling a thousand scents that he could somehow
recognize. He reached out the ravens, fingers splayed. Their auras were
within his vision, the colours dancing and brilliant.
	Was this what it felt to be a Mystwolf?
	He whispered, "Give me a body and I will destroy it...."
	A voice called out from beyond his mind, from beyond his present
time and world. "Impossible. A Vampyre's magik is forged to seek out
your dreams, letting them play on your hopes and fantasies. Before you
realize you're in danger--"
	A savage snapping of jaws.
	He winced at the sound as it echoed across the midnight skies.
	"--your soul belongs to them. Become a true spectre and learn the
art of such a magik."
	He raised his hand, studying a symbol of what he had come back
for, that which was wrapped around one of his fingers. "Angel," he
whispered, staring at the ring.
	A flash of the band reflected a streetlight, catching him in the
eyes. He recoiled, a cascade of images pouring into his mind. A body
lying in the streets that was his own. A swerving car.
	The voice returned, doubling up on itself so that he heard an
echo quick on the heels of the last words spoken. His head began to
throb, and he closed his eyes.
	"...preys upon the innocent and the beautiful. The purer you are,
the greater the rush when they steal your soul..."
	He never realized that his head had snapped back, mouth agape in
a silent scream that was lifted up beyond the writhing mass of black
clouds.
	Scarlet warmth running down his chest. Falling to the rain-soaked
ground and listening to its sadistically sweet laughter.
	"...You had such an irresistible gentleness to you. But then it
saw your human soulmate..."
	Her huddled form, cradling his body. A name....
	"Ma...ko...to...," he gasped.
	"...And it finds Kino Makoto to be a very beautiful creature..."
	That face. That bastard's handsome face.
	Not her!
	Those eyes. Long silver hair.
	Not her!
	"...A very beautiful creature indeed..."
	NOT HER!
	Suddenly he threw back his head, arms splayed out as he lifted a
howl of rage that echoed across the entire City of Lights. A boom of
thunder drowned out the animal inside being unleashed. The dam of
clouds burst, pelting rains falling over the city.
	"MAKO-CHAN!!!" he screamed.
	Before the last breath of howl was sucked out from his lungs, he
flung a clenched fist into cobblestone, the Mystwolf battle aura
exploding. Stone was reduced to cracked fragments, the shockwave
rippling right up to the fronts steps of the jinja.
	Crackling bolts of something not quite wolfen streaked across the
ground, spiralling around his fist as he lifted it to his face. This
was not wolfen magik, nor was it an angel's magik. This was something
new.
	"Like to destroy like. Stormsoul to destroy Stormsoul," he
stated, crimson eyes slowly morphing into the slitted eyes of a cat.
	"...no other way but for you to become what it is..."
	The drenching rains held no feeling upon his skin as he leaped
into the air, alighting the torii. Despite the torrential storm
emerging, again the ravens kept close, waiting. Crimson eyes narrowed
as he caught a familiar scent in the air. It was time to hunt down the
powers of the howling storm. The guise this creature who had murdered
him had been one used for centuries on end.
	Three new runes burned into his skin, each one a blazing crimson
of new-found magik that was not his own. One on each forearm, bearing
the marks of Wind and Thunder. A third appeared on the back of his
neck, glowing with the rune of Lightening.
	Abruptly the marks faded, and in their place was forged a new one
to symbolize their mergence into one powerful magik. The last one upon
his forehead shone and did not fade: it was the Storm rune itself, mark
of the Stormsoul.
	"Then let it begin," he snarled.
	The ravens lifted their wings and he became lost in a cloud of
moving bodies and feathers of midnight. As the ravens dispersed they
left nothing behind. He was already gone.
	At the base of the stairs leading up to the Shinto shrine, a
young girl more older than one might assume watched the scattering
avian harbingers.
	"My Okami," the Darkqueen whispered. "Watch over Sora."


	She was sobbing uncontrollably, her face buried in the tear-
stained arms of the odango-haired blonde. Deep emerald green eyes were
stained with sadness, with feeling lost and alone in a world suddenly
turned twisted.
	"Daijobu, Mako-chan," the odango-haired blonde whispered, tears
running down the girl's face in speaking. "You've come this far. We'll
all make it through somehow. We'll all make it through...."
	The dark-haired prince held her hands. "Makoto, we'll be here for
you as long as you want us to be here."
	Their words came to her as distant voices, visions on the edge of
her senses. Her world was reeling; he had given her so much and asked
for so little in return. Every night she had taken for granted his warm
body next to her own, arms encircling her to protect her as they
dreamed.
	The dark-haired shrine girl stared out the window with clenched
fists. "What could possibly be so cruel to kill someone like Sora?"
	Her eyes widened, fists shaking in silent fury over his death.
Slowly she forced herself to rise, taking a weak and shaky step towards
the window. She stumbled, and the long-haired blonde caught her up.
	She seemed to collapse into the girl's arms, leaning her head on
the long-haired blonde's shoulder. "Mako-chan," the long-haired blonde
asked quietly. "What are you going to do about your child?"
	"I don't know," she answered through her tears. "I don't
know...."
	Lightening sent shadows racing across the walls behind them, the
room trembling at the sound of thunder. The storm was far from over.
	"Sora," she cried softly.


	They were mourning in their own way, as warriors could only
mourn. For while tears would one night be shed for their fallen
comrade, his death symbolized a danger to them all. Three guardian
angels were in solemn silence at her kitchen counter, each one wearing
an expression of their anger.
	"What in the hell could do this?" the shrine protege demanded
quietly, pounding a fist back against the wall. "What could kill a
raven angel?"
	"I don't know," the raven knight said. "This holds the scent of
Earthen magik. I may know the evils of the Dreamworld, but the
creatures of this realm are unknown to me."
	"That doesn't help our situation, Kishi," the masquerade wraith
said. "Makoto never saw anything except for Sora's death, and any
witnesses lost their memories. How damned convenient for a wielder of
magik."
	Kishi let out an exhausted breath, arms crossed over his chest.
"I almost killed him once. If Minako-chan hadn't stopped me...I don't
think we ever really made amends for that. We just left it unsaid. Damn
it all, why did it have to be him?"
	The shrine protege was fighting back tears as they spoke,
unwilling to accept that which had already conspired against them.
Their ranks had been reduced by one, an angel not deserving of such a
demise.
	"Yuichiro?" the raven knight asked.
	"I keep thinking about his face," the shrine protege said
quietly, eyes fixed on something other than them. "He was almost like a
little brother in this life; I don't think I ever wanted to see him
cry. If he was to die, this was a most cruel fate."
	"Save your memories for later," the masquerade wraith said
solemnly if not coldly. "We have work to do."
	"Meikyu!" the raven knight snapped. "Don't you feel anything?
Sorata is dead!"
	"I know that," Meikyu replied evenly. "And whatever killed him is
still out there right now. If we don't destroy it soon, then before the
night is over someone else will die too."
	Meikyu slowly turned to the window as a flash of lightening
spread an eerie hue across the entire apartment. In that moment the
wraith's jade green eyes glowed brighter than before. "I mourn his loss
deeper than you know, Kishi. But I can feel its magik in the storm. It
will be out hunting again tonight. And I don't want another soul to end
up like him."
	"Will it come after us now?" Kishi asked.
	"Until we know for certain, none of us sleeps," Meikyu stated.
"Yuichiro, since you are originally human, you are granted the
exception; we need for you to find Okami and Hotaru-sama. Being
Mystwolves, they should at least know something."
	Yuichiro bowed slightly. "Consider me there. But what about the
others?"
	"Let them stay with Makoto," the masquerade wraith said, casting
a backwards glance at the closed bedroom door. "As much of a fighter as
she is, she desperately needs their company right now."
	Kishi nodded in agreement. "Meikyu, I take it we're going
hunting."
	The masquerade wraith gave a dark smile, the flash of the Tsunami
scythe appearing. "Hai. It's time to be guardian angels once more, and
avenge our fallen brother."


	With inhuman eyes it watched three young men step out from her
apartment. Each one radiated with a glowing aura of magik. Such a
unique force not to be found on Earth alone.
	So, there were more raven angels like the one it had already
slain with surprising ease. To think that so many could be given the
chance to break free of the boundaries of the Dreamworld, and exist
here as sub-creatures.
	They were as foolish as the human mortals.
	Such arrogance in thinking that they were the targets. In due
time perhaps. Yes, they all held to them a beauty it wanted to possess
for itself. In time they all would be given a glimpse of heaven, or be
sent to hell.
	For now it wanted the beautiful young girl with the long chestnut
brown hair. She who had been the soulmate of the raven angel with
crimson eyes.
	"Kino Makoto," it whispered, features once more growing human.
Long silver hair and seductive magenta eyes watched the three guardian
angels leave.
	Three new warriors for its three new succubuses.


	An hour had passed since her friends had left her to her own
tears. And yet those tears were gone. Her heart was still numb, her
stomach still twisted, but for now the tears were finally gone.
	Noises from the other rooms.
	She smiled; they were still keeping watch over her. But she was
stronger than that. Once before she had overcome the solitude of her
parents' death. With him it would be different: the scars would run
deeper, the tears run more bitter.
	Yet she would survive. He would have wanted it that way, a chance
to bring up their child in peace and serenity, learning the ways of
magik and the Dreamworld. Her hand rested upon her belly, reaching out
with her own magik to feel the heartbeat of the daughter within.
	"Daijobu," she whispered softly, her voice almost already that of
a mother's. "We'll make it through this, little one."
	"Mako-chan...."
	She turned her head. The winds against her bedroom window were
playing cruel tricks on her mind. For a moment she thought it was his
voice whispering to her. But could that be possible? There was no other
whispering in the winds.
	Emerald green eyes stared out at her reflection. Such a tall,
supple form she had; she felt more exposed now even with her clothes
on. In a few weeks the pregnancy would begin to show.
	What would happen then?
	Ravens sounded off over the din of the storm outside her window.
She glanced away, watching the rains instead of herself. A strange calm
washed over her in seeing the water strike against the windowpane.
Steady, rhythmic beating.
	It surprised her when a small, black object floated past her
face. "Na...ni?" she asked aloud, raising her hand to catch the raven's
down from its lazy descent. The feather was soft in her palm, bringing
back so many memories.
	Her heart began beating faster. She held her breath. This had
happened once before on a night so distant in the past yet still so
clear in her memories. Slowly her eyes returned to the mirror.
	Then there he was, standing inside where her reflection once was.
Head bowed, raven wings folded behind, hands pressed against an
invisible surface dividing them. The braid was still gone, severed near
the base of his skull. Loose strands fluttered in a wind she never
felt.
	Crimson eyes opened and his head lifted up.
	"S-Sorata," she stammered.
	How was this possible?
	It was him, her raven angel. Yet he was different somehow. His
eyes: they were crimson but holding the form of a Mystwolf. Slitted
feline eyes. Was the form before her even his true body?
	"Mako-chan," his voice called to her.
	She whirled, stunned to hear those words spoken within the room
and not the mirror. He was a step away from her, a gentle expression
once more on his face. His wings stretched out until each tip touched
her walls.
	Inside, away from the water, it was raining raven's down.
	"M-Masaka," she whispered, stepping away.
	"My time here on Earth is short," he said, slowly moving closer.
Raven wings folded in back of him.
	"But you...you...."
	He turned away, his own torn soul reflected in crimson eyes. "I
don't know what I am now, Mako-chan. But I know what I must do."
	"You came back for me?" she asked, hopeful. Was this a second
chance? Was this the requiem for an angel?
	He shook his head. "Iie, Mako-chan. Under another midnight sky, I
would have come for one last moment together with you. But the storm is
in full fury. I cannot be here with you now. It's still out there,
Mako-chan, and I cannot rest until it's dead."
	Unable to do anything but stare at him, she remained silent. No
mere words would have been able to express the emotions tearing her
apart.
	Suddenly she was swept up in his arms, in folded wings of raven's
feathers, soft and warm. His lips were close to her own, just a
breath's kiss away. His scent was of midnight, fresh spring rain, of a
soul who had decided to ride lightening and tame thunder.
	Such a soft, quiet voice, one that she never believed would harm
her or anyone else. His was a voice she listened to when sometimes she
awoke in the dead of night, lulling her back to sleep with his gentle
breathing.
	"I can't ask you to understand, Mako-chan. I barely even
understand myself right now. This is something I have to do; the magik
in my blood is burning."
	He gripped her tighter, and she buried her face into the base of
his neck. Fierce passion without fallen tears was etched into her face.
She never wanted the moment to end, and yet knew that it must.
	"You've always been a strong soul for as long as I have known you
or your dreams. I'm asking you to stay strong for just a little while
longer, Mako-chan."
	She understood. Somehow deep within she understood, no matter how
much she wanted to seize him and force him to stay by her side. All but
a glimpse of that demon she had seen. It was still out there, hunting,
stalking. She was in no condition to chase after it, not with him
between realms like this.
	"Please," she asked of him. "Just hold me, Sora. Please hold me
for just a little while longer."
	He smiled, fingers running through her silken brown hair. "I had
almost forgotten how lovely your hair smells. So much like that first
night together in the hotsprings."
	She nodded, content to just stay in his arms and listen. But then
he stepped back, delicately pushing her away. Tonight the storm was
raging near out of control, and he had to leave.
	She touched her cheek as a teardrop escaped her guarded heart.
"Be careful," she said. The bedside light caught part of her ring, the
diamond's glow striking his cheek.
	"I remember our promise," he whispered.
	He bowed, slowly fading away like a ghost, or else as a forgotten
dream. His eyes were so haunting, both angel and Mystwolf as one. "If
ever there was a day without a night, ever a moon without its stars, so
too would be my soul if ever we were apart. I love you, Mako-chan. And
I will come back for you."
	She smiled, wiping away the tears. "Do what you have to do," she
whispered. "I'll wait for you, Sora. As long as it takes, I'll wait for
you to return."


	Somewhere between the waking world and the realms of the dreamers
lies a sanctuary built to protect the last magiks that ever existed on
Earth. Long since destroyed, plundered and exploited, this place was
their last hope for survival. Galleries upon galleries were amassed to
give serenity for those of the last magiks. Yet there were chambers
meant not to protect those of magik from Earth, but to protect Earth
from those of magik.
	It was quiet within an empty Sanctuary; the only noise was the
faint whispers of the winds. And then those whispers took their own
life and will.
	"Chaos...."
	The winds moved steadily across the Sanctuary, sweeping from one
gallery into the next. Like a river of pure unseen air the chorus made
its way down corridors and through atriums. The galleries less seen
flashed by, the darker recesses of magik being passed over.
	"Awaken...."
	The very air rippled, and for a brief instant, a myst that
resembled ghostly spectres flickered into sight. The winds pushed into
a final circular chamber, one decorated with scarlet banners, and small
chests adorned with gemstones and ancient runes. Six boxes in total
were placed within the circular wall, but they were all discarded.
	The winds moved around the central pedestal, where a single chest
rested. Swirling, caressing, the air searched this Pandora Box for the
key to open the lock. The lock to unleashing an ancient Elven lord
known as Chaos. The glowing sapphire and its facets suddenly gave off a
flash of blue light, and the lid popped open just enough to let a flood
of thick, grey mist pour out.
	And there was Chaos, leaning on the pedestal and silently
watching as he let the mists run past his hands and through his splayed
fingers. There was a moment of retrospective silence in the Elven
lord's demeanour.
	Then came the impish smile.
	"Karasu?" he called out, unable to wipe the gleeful smirk off his
face. He couldn't wait to see the Wanderer's expression upon learning
he was back out of the box again!
	Yet the chambers seemed disturbingly deserted.
	Chaos moved away from his Pandora Box, examining the gallery.
Everything seemed to be deserted. No one was anywhere near here. The
only sounds that brought life to empty corridors were the echoes of his
own footsteps.
	So then who opened his box?
	"I daresay," the Elven lord remarked sourly. "Bad form. Really, I
must ask as to what game I'm playing tonight?"
	There was no response. Only an echo.
	"Karasu, if this is retribution for the Imagika thing, you'll
have to beat the apology from my lifeless body!"
	Yet Chaos' voice only echoed across empty hallways and atrium.
"Where in the hell is everyone?" he muttered, sticking his head into
another corridor, just as vast and just as deserted as all the others
before it.
	Did they all hold an end of the world party and have the audacity
not to invite him for such an occasion?
	"Chaos...."
	He paused.
	Those whispers in the winds: he knew them from somewhere.
	"Get ready for a new game, Elvenchild...."
	"What in the hell's going on?" he said, scouring the Sanctuary
for the source of those whispers.
	Something didn't feel right about this at all; the DreamSeer was
to only leave the Sanctuary to retrieve a surviving magik still on
Earth. Yet his release would have sent some shockwave of magik to let
Karasu know he was out from the Pandora Box.
	They came again.
	This whispers came.
	"Chaos...."
	The Elven lord took one final glance back at the resting places
of all his comrades, those of his Court. None of them were undisturbed
in their chests. So why had he been suddenly released from his box?
	"Shimatta," he muttered.
	Against his better wishes, a decision to find the Wanderer was
made.


	Death.
	This was the scent he recognized.
	It was permeating the very air, pulsating with each cloud that
lingered over the city like a plague of darkness and lightening.
Something was stolen, raped of its natural beauty. And whatever had
done this was still out here.
	Her tears still haunted his memories. Was that time their final
moment together, his requiem? "Mako-chan," he whispered.
	Atop the roof of an apartment building he stood, oblivious to the
rains steadily pouring down all around him. Wings of raven feathers
folded against his back, he let the Mystwolf senses bestowed upon him
gather what he wanted: a trace of the beast.
	Magik touched the edge of his mind. He whirled as a shadow
rippled behind him; it was something only his Mystwolf sense could ever
detect. He growled, coiled and ready to strike.
	"You," he demanded. "Who are you?"
	A young man chuckled, coming out into the light.
	This seemed to be human, with short yet wild silver hair and
mortal clothes. But those eyes were cat-like in nature, glowing a
fierce golden yellow.
	"Mystwolf?" he whispered. "Okami...."
	"Don't fool yourself, Sora," the Mystwolf cut in. "What you see
before you is a spirit, a projection of my own Imagika. You see, that's
my body you're occupying right now. My own mind lays dormant in the
back of your thoughts."
	The cold winds and soaking rains held no feel upon his skin. Nor
did he have the time to care about how it felt. Everything seemed
strangely alive and glowing in an aura he could not recognize.
	"This is the only time I can come before you like this," the
Mystwolf said. "All my magik is being consumed to keep your soul
aligned in my body. What I carry to you now is a warning: you lose
sight of what you returned for, and this will all be for nothing."
	Her face flickered in his mind's eye for a moment, and he longed
for her touch. Those final moments together and that distant sensation
as he watched the teddy bear tumble into the pools of water.
	That voice: "...in truth, it would have seduced you, Sorata,
before the night was out..."
	The Mystwolf joined him at the edge of the apartment, propping a
foot up on the ledge in peering at the streets below. "The guardian
angels of the Dreamworld have never died. You are the first."
	The voice: "...but when you sensed it to be of the youma, it
decided to kill you instead..."
	"But we are mortal," he countered, his eyes looking down at the
lights of the moving vehicles. "Even in the Dreamworld we could be
killed, and our kingdoms conquered."
	He felt a chill run down his spine as the spectre of the Mystwolf
slowly turned to stare at him in the eyes. The rain was coming down
hard, yet Okami remained unaffected. So much like a ghost.
	"That was the Dreamworld. Earth is not that place, so forget
anything you know about your home realm. In the past, raven angels have
crossed over to Earth. And they lived peaceful lives with their
soulmates."
	A second glance back at the city and its lights sprawled out
before them. "But when the reason for them to cross over was gone, when
their soulmate died, they disappeared." Okami glanced back at him with
a mysterious smile. "I hold little doubt that the angels faded away to
simply be with their beloved for all eternity. Poetic, ne?"
	His beloved.
	The engagement ring upon his finger was no longer there, lost
somewhere between life and death. She would still remember him always,
but what else was left for him? Yet regardless she was in danger; that
was his reason to return.
	"Makoto," he whispered.
	He turned back to Okami, only to discover the Mystwolf but a
fleeting memory, steam pouring out from a vent in the roof. Another
display of savage lightening spread across the midnight skies,
illuminating his face as he stared out at this City of Night. For a
brief instant the cat-like eyes of the Mystwolf were human.
	That voice from before returned: "...where it all began..."
	So distantly familiar.
	Had that all been a dream?
	"...Angel of the night...spread your raven wings..."
	By the time the next series of lightening bolts sounded off in a
crackling roar of thunder, he was gone. The scent was growing so much
more clearer to him now.


	The shrine protege grimaced.
	The Darkqueen had not been with Okami. In fact, neither one of
them were at the Tomoe residence. Since the time the sun's final rays
should have been visible to the city, they were gone. So then where
were they?
	"Shimatta," he muttered, adjusting his umbrella as the winds
shifted directions and angles. His pants and shoes were soaked. He
considered forgoing on the umbrella and just let the rains finish their
job.
	"Yuichiro...."
	He swivelled, fists clenched as his own illusion-borne magik was
summoned. None of them had any idea what this demon was or even what
powers it could wield. To hear his name called like that sent every
nerve in his body on edge.
	"Who's there?" he demanded.
	But his eyes found nothing except for empty streets drenched in
the pouring rain. The shrine protege turned, suddenly finding himself
standing beneath the frame of the Shinto temple's torii. The storm had
stopped and the clouds around the moon were being swept away.
	What was he suddenly doing here?
	"Na...ni?" he muttered.
	"Yuichiro," came the voice.
	He turned his head once more, his soaked garments now black
armour, and a flowing crimson cape behind that. They were standing on
the edge of ancient ruins that might have once been a kingdom on the
moon.
	"Rei-chan?" he asked.
	She was there, the dark-haired shrine girl, seductive yet demure
in staring at him. The girl held out a hand, beckoning him to approach.
Cautiously he took a step forward. Something sticky seemed to be on the
side of his face; he assumed it to be rain or sweat.
	"What's going on?"
	Suddenly she raced into his arms, sweeping her arms around him.
The shrine protege was stunned, uncertain of what to think let alone
how to react.
	"Yuichiro!" she sobbed. "I was so worried about you! He...he had
told me you were dead. And I almost believed him, but I never gave up
hope. I waited for you to come back."
	He gently but firmly pushed her back, staring long and hard into
her face. "What is this?"
	The girl's smile faded. "You...you mean you don't remember me,
Yuichiro? You don't remember us, how we were and still are pledged to
be married?"
	She held up her hand to reveal the engagement ring, and then
brought up his own hand to reveal a matching ring. He held his breath,
fixated on her hypnotic, violet eyes.
	Her touch was electric, his skin tingling.
	Strange images filtered into his mind. One instant he saw the two
of them laughing together in a quiet atrium, the next they were laying
together in a field of wildflowers. He saw himself leaving the palace,
dressed for battle.
	"We are together again, Yuichiro-san, my love," the girl
whispered. "And together we shall forever be."
	She took his hand and lifted it to his face, where he felt the
sticky river near his temple. That was blood, his blood. Where had he
received such an injury?
	"This makes no sense," he said, trying to desperately make sense
of it. He wasn't dreaming; this wasn't a dream...was it?
	He stifled a gasp, eyes widening as the girl took his hand and
guided it between the folds of her blouse. The warmth of her breast was
against his palm, a nipple in between two of his fingers.
	"R-Rei-chan," he said.
	The girl smiled, caressing his cheek. She sighed as he tried to
pull out his hand only to find he couldn't will himself to do that. She
pushed herself closer to him.
	"Hai. Let me show you heaven, Yuichiro, where we can be together
at last."
	"Something's not right here," he said, trying to fight back
against...against what? What was there to fight? The faint image of a
storm flickered into his memories.
	The shrine protege gave a stifled gasp as fangs sank into his
neck, the magik swiftly working to poison his mind and steal his soul.
His hand dropped the umbrella before the rest of his body collapsed
into the rain-laden sidewalks.
	With a giggle, the girl retreated into the shadows, long dark
hair becoming shoulder-length dirty blonde.
	"Delicious."


	They numbered three.
	Three what?
	"Three Storms," he murmured.
	Atop the downtown lights and neon signs he perched, wings half
outstretched to keep part of him out from the torrents of rain.
Something was leading him here. Her apartment was nowhere near this
part of the city, yet it was so burned into his heart to find himself
sitting here that he could do nothing but follow it.
	Rajin...thunder.
	He winced slightly, eyes slitted as a new onslaught of lightening
and deafening thunder shook the city once more. Was there no end to
this damned storm?
	Fujin...wind and tempests.
	A car some three storeys below his towering neon sign gave a
shrilling honk before spinning out of control, waves of water drenching
those on the sidewalks. The vehicle rolled, metal twisted. People
screaming.
	Raiden...lightening...that which was a lord of the storm.
	The sign below his feet changed colours, proudly displaying
brilliant advertisements. A label he cared not to read. His wings now
fully extended, he dropped towards the earth.
	What did these names of ancient myth mean to him? There was only
one name consuming his mind. Only one face haunted this thing he could
possibly call a life; a body given up for the sole purpose of exacting
revenge and protecting his beloved.
	Without even disturbing the growing puddles, he landed. Wings
folded back and he searched the streets for the magik of this creature.
	"...purity of the storm's magik has been poisoned by this vile
creature..."
That voice; it was one that commanded authority by its very
words, the soul behind it not to be trifled with or questioned. One of
great and deadly magik.
	"...I offer you a second chance, raven angel. Return to Earth and
destroy that which killed you..."
	"Stormsoul to destroy Stormsoul," he whispered, fists clenched.
	"...and then you can live again..."
	Storm magik.
	This was all about the magik of the storm's fury, possessed in an
incantation or enchantment or curse.
	"...the one called Karasu is a master of illusions, not storm
magik. He is a master only of the Storm Furies attack, and thus he
alone carries the Arashi sword."
	He knelt down next to a part of the sidewalk. How long had it
been? Overnight? Maybe two? Rain had long since washed away the blood
that was once his from this place. Fingers touching the concrete, he
relived the memories.
	"...but you have a chance to become a master of the storm
magik..."
	The rainwater was suddenly blood, thick and rich. His blood, the
blood of an angel. She was holding him in her arms, her tears lost in
the rain yet every droplet striking his face belonged to her sadness.
	The teddy bear.
	His ponytail had been severed, falling into a puddle of water
just a few steps away. Such beautiful, fine hair that had been cut off.
As he had stared into those two magenta eyes. It was still taunting him
from beyond these worlds.
	Their child.
	She would be just like her mother.
	"...become a Stormsoul, and you may see her once more..."
	Just like her mother....


	The loud din of cars and their horns were uncomfortably loud even
with the roar of the falling rains. The raven knight glanced back over
his shoulder; an hour in the heart of the storm had turned up nothing.
	Its scent drifted with the winds, caught for a moment only to be
lost just as quickly. He saw its shadowy reflection in every window,
yet only as the lightening flashed. And then it was gone. Somewhere out
there he could hear its laughter rolling with the thunder.
	What was that demon?
	"Kishi, no!"
	He whirled as the echoes of the long-haired blonde's screams
reached his ears. Was she in danger, or was this another trick? Dammit
he couldn't sense anything to hunt!
	"Kishi!"
	It was her voice.
	He turned his head, the rains unrelentingly pouring down on the
top of a silver step pyramid. He watched the raven angel tumble like a
rag doll across the stones, absorbing the fury of his dragyn magik.
Sapphire blue eyes widened as the memories pounded his mind with
relentless contempt. The battered body of the raven angel being held in
the long-haired blonde's arms.
	"Chikusho!" he swore, pressing the base of his palms against his
pounding temples. His mind felt as if it was on fire, ready to explode.
"Chikusho! Chikusho!!"
	He tumbled forwards into a deep puddle of rainwater, coughing and
sputtering as he rose up. Moss green hair and bangs of deep blue
pressed tightly against his skin. Feebly, the raven knight pushed out
from the water, forcing himself to rise with the help of a lightpole.
	Everything in his skull was ricocheting, violently trying to
crush his brain. The vision of the road began to blur and haze, and he
barely recognized how he was slipping again.
	"Stop it, Kishi! Just please stop!"
	Her voice, the voice of the long-haired blonde screaming out at
him. She was cradling Sora's body, the raven angel's wings torn and
bloodied. As if choosing the angel over him. Death for the raven angel.
	No chance for true amends.
	"Kishi, no!"
	The long-haired blonde cradling Sora, leaving him alone and in
the pouring rain. The pounding of his skull grew worse. The rains
abruptly stopped, but he was too exhausted to see the moonlight cast
its warm glow upon him. But he saw the figure over him, kneeling down
to touch his cheek. There stood a girl with long blonde hair. No, was
it short and black? He couldn't tell; the pounding was becoming much
worse. Memory upon memory was striking his mind.
	"Minako-chan...?" he asked, reaching out to her.
	The girl smiled darkly. A lowering of defenses. These raven
angels were so much more difficult to lure into such a fantasy. This
one had quite blithely walked into the illusion of heaven, a chance to
escape all the pain and hurt and sorrow.
	So dark and rich his memories were.
	He was ready if not willing to the fingers that caressed his
cheek and tilted his head. The glow of soul and magik faded from his
eyes. Slowly the fierce and relentless pounding in his skull grew
distant.
	He made no protest as the girl gently took his hand and let it
rest upon her exposed breasts. She sighed as his thumb brushed against
her skin.
	"Hai, Ki-chan. Here...."
	The girl's eyes flashed as she ran her tongue over the two
sharpened fangs that were slowly moving towards Kishi's neck.
	"Mina...ko-chan," the raven knight whispered hoarsely.
	Blood was drawn a heartbeat later.


	Nothing seemed right tonight. Nothing felt right. Already there
was a growing void of loneliness and tears in their presence. The raven
angel had died, and whatever had killed him was still out there.
	With a peek through the blinds the blue-haired genius saw that
the rains were still far from over. Lightening and thunder were not as
dominant now, but still raging across the entire silhouette of the
city.
	"Meikyu," she said quietly. "Please come back for me."
	Only the lamp nearest the coffee table was on, its glow casting
light upon the forms of the dark-haired shrine girl and the long-haired
blonde, both having collapsed onto a couch or curled up in a chair.
	The blue-haired genius smiled, seeing how the others were asleep.
The odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired prince had stepped out to
find a store open this hour of the night. Despite a terrifying fear of
storms, the odango-haired blonde had been adamant about finding
something to help their friend sleep.
	"Mako-chan," she said quietly. "I hope you're getting some rest."
	None of them had really slept since yesterday, and if they had
slept it was a light and uncomfortable sleep. She sipped her tea,
blowing on the wisps of steam rising from the cup. Right now, as
exhausted as she was, she couldn't find any reason to be tired. And so
the blue-haired genius chose to read instead.
	Halfway through the cup of tea found her starting to nod off in
the middle of a page. The blue-haired genius sighed, closing the book.
	"I guess I should find a corner for myself."
	"Ami-chan...."
	The blue-haired genius turned at the whispers.
	And there it stood, the mortal guise as handsome and alluring as
ever before, untouched by the rains or winds. Long silver hair billowed
out around the man's waist, magenta eyes piercing the shadows and
coming to life as lightening flashed through the windows. Thunder
rumbled as she slowly stood.
	"I have felt your eyes upon me in your dreams," the young man
said. "What is it that you desire from me?"
	The next instant the shadows revealed the masquerade wraith.
	"Meikyu?" the blue-haired genius asked.
	"Ami-chan," the wraith said, stepping forward to take her hand.
"As I promised, I have come back."
	What was happening? Confusion seized hold of the girl's mind as
she stood, knocking over the cup as tea dribbled onto the floor.
	"M-Masaka," she whispered. "This can't be you."
	Meikyu smiled, taking her hand. "Feel my heartbeat, Ami-chan.
What else could I be?"
	And then the wraith pulled her close, leaning over and letting
their lips touch. The blue-haired genius' eyes widened as her body went
suddenly on edge, electric and tingling. This was the touch of her
masquerade wraith, and so much more.
	But this was all an illusion.
	It smiled, this human form kissing her lips again, feasting on
the girl's innocence. She pressed her lips harder against it, then
relaxed as it drew back. Kisses were made in a trail down her cheek,
ecstasy reaching slowly down to her shoulders. The blue-haired genius
gasped at the pleasure of the illusion.
	She was barely aware of the blood trickling down her neck. She
reached back, found a hand and guided it beneath her sweater. Her
cheeks were pink and blushing as she felt the fingers probe down her
body.
	"Meikyu," she sighed.
	It smiled, eyes flashing jade fading to scarlet, the slitted eyes
of a cat. "Hai, Ami-chan...."
	The blue-haired genius had been stolen.


	It had been here.
	He could smell the Vampyre's stench all over this place.
	The balcony doors were swinging to the whim of the storm's
tempests, glass windows broken and scattered beneath his feet. Out from
the vicious rains, he quietly walked past the threshold, water dripping
from his soaked wings and garments. With a quick shake his feathers
sprayed more rain across the room.
	"Why were you here?" he whispered quietly to himself.
	The storm's scent had originated here. This was its proverbial
eye. Somewhere deep within here laid the key to the enigma of his
death. This entire place held an aura of high prestige and authority,
from its posh carpets to the paintings and antiques spread out as if he
were inside an art museum.
	For a brief instant he saw himself kneeling down before three
shadows of magik. "Was this a creation of Chaos?" he heard his voice
ask.
	A pedestal was tipped over and broken apart, the remains of a
piece of jewellery spilled out across the edge of where carpet met
marble floor tiling.
	"...even Chaos and his Court knew better than to tangle with the
Vampyre. Those creatures were the only ones Chaos agreed to destroy. He
didn't have a taste for such...dishonest games..."
	That sounded like the Elven Lord.
	The slitted crimson eyes of a cat focused upon the body of what
might have once been human. Legs were splayed out before an ancient
artefact laying on a central column. The piece itself caught his
attention first.
	What a grotesque treasure of the ancient realms, so much like the
demon that had once been lurking within. Everything was in a
beautifully hellish and intricately designed pyramid of skulls and
bones. Some were forged of metal or else polished stone. Others were
all too real.
	Ancient runes, similar to those of the Elven race yet ones he
could not read, were scrawled along the rows of skulls, each one
following an exact line. And incantation, perhaps? He would never know,
never be certain of what they meant. He doubted anyone alive, on Earth
or in the Dreamworld, had the knowledge to decipher such intricate
markings.
	"Shimatta," he said, kneeling down.
	Somehow he recognized its work: the exact, horrifying deaths that
made these creatures legendary among nightmares. This corpse was once a
mortal man, capable of such human things as love, despair, hate,
triumph and fear. And now it was a shell and a skull to match the
gruesome work of the ancient worlds.
	Round, white eyes now albino were perfectly laid in deep, hollow
sockets, the skin a mouldy brown and sucked into the contours of the
skull. Every part of the man was shrivelled up. A few clumps of long
grey hair rustled in the crossbreezes from the balcony doors.
	The entire expression was that of shock and terror. As if one
moment the man was living out an ultimate fantasy, and had just seen
the demons lurking behind the light. Whatever had attacked this man had
been swift and merciless; the throat was ripped apart, torn to shreds
as if to get at something.
	Blood?
	He picked up the arm, cradling it in his grasp. The skin was
brittle and rough, almost like papyrus. Crudely scrawled across the
muddied skin were ancient kanji pictographs.
	"'Let mine eyes see what heavens I have tasted'," he read,
letting the arm fall to the floor. It landed with a dull thump and,
oblivious, the corpse stared blankly out in terror at the kitchen.
	Why this man?
	Why such a gruesome death?
	The guiding voice returned: "...children are just its favourite
prize...."
	And suddenly he understood.
	"So," he stated. "You were hungry."
	Hungry after being released from its no doubt millennium-old
prison. His hands moved towards the chilling artefact, fingers tracing
over the pyramidal structure of screaming heads and gaping skulls, of
silver bones and wonderfully cut gemstones lodged in between the
numerous jaws and eye sockets.
	This was where it had been sealed.
	"...I have been watching you, raven angel. This demon has been
walking in your shadows longer than you suspect. That meeting was just
a prelude..."
	What was this man's name?
	She was there like a ghost next to him. He reached out his hand,
trying to caress her cheek as he saw her radiant face smile, eyes
closed, as she laughed. His own ghost was sitting next to her, hands
clasped together. Fingers laced. The sparkle of butterflies and
diamond.
	Such a bright autumn day....
	"Matsume Yuto-san," a voice spoke aloud.
	He whirled, crouching low and unleashing a guttural Mystwolf
growl. Another force was at work here, one so subtle he had missed it
in his search. His features softened as he saw the Darkqueen standing
there before him.
	"Hotaru-sama," he said, bowing his head.
	The Darkqueen was reading the name on the business card from the
dead man's planner. "A private art collector. The man was well-known
for amassing priceless antiquities of ancient lore and mythology. Some
of them could be as old as the Dreamworld itself."
	He grinned, baring twin fangs at the corners of his mouth.
"Certainly rivals your lamp collection, ne, Hotaru-sama?"
	"I prefer my lamps to this," the Darkqueen replied evenly, moving
around one of the leather couches.
	He ran his hand down one of the skulls. "This artefact," he said.
"The youma came from here."
	Something about this work, this entire room. Its nature and name
was in here, possessed can contained by these walls. A word formed on
his lips, touching his tongue.
	"Vampyre."
	The Darkqueen nodded. "Their most ancient of names. They vanished
along with the Elven kind. Perhaps the two were at war, and the Elven
chose to destroy both themselves and the Vampyre at once. Not even we
Mystwolves will ever truly know what happened the night both species
suddenly disappeared."
	"Yet a few Vampyre survived, Hotaru-sama," he stated.
	"Just as there were Elven who survived, so too were there
Vampyres," she answered. "Many were hunted down and sealed just like
Chaos and his Court. Fortunately the Vampyre are not quite as powerful
as Chaos, and don't require a Pandora Box."
	"I don't know whether to take that remark as an insult or a
compliment," another vice remarked. "However, under present conditions,
I'm trusting it's a compliment to my prowess in wielding magik."
	He straightened, slowly turning his head. "Masaka," he whispered.
	Appearing in the balcony's doorway was Chaos, as ever unchanged
in a month and as ever unchanged in a few thousand years. Long silver
hair shimmered blue from the storm's glow cast through the windows.
	"Shimatta," the Elven lord said, kicking at a piece of glass.
"Vampyre. I should have known by the scent in the storm."
	"Chaos," the Darkqueen said, surprised as he was to see the Elven
Lord. "When did you get out from the Pandora Box?"
	"I let myself out apparently," Chaos replied, glancing around the
room. "The Vampyre really tore this place up...and judging from the way
you look, Sora, he really tore you up too."
	Strangely enough he felt distant to that statement. On another
night, his heart would have been burdened with such distress, yet now
he felt nothing. What was, was. Now he had another reason for being
here.
	"Am I dead then?" he asked.
	"Not quite," Chaos answered. "I've seen this a few times before.
Your soul is crying out to the stars for a chance to return to Earth.
And," the Elven lord added. "for that matter, it appears Thanatos has
yet to decide on how to deal with you."
	"Thanatos?" he repeated. He knew the name well: that of the
Master Scytheman, whose duty was death itself. An enigmatic Ancients,
rumoured to be more powerful than any of the raven angels, long since
lost or else forgotten by myth. Tales flowed like rivers about such
ancient mages; perhaps, it was spoken quietly, one of them had forged
the Dreamworld.
	The Elven lord nodded, tracing a finger along the mysterious
runes scrawled across the skulls. "Strange. The markings here are some
kind of barrier, one meant to have sealed the Vampyre within
this...questionable choice of a sculpture. With the seal in place, this
Vampyre's aura would have been cut off from Earth."
	"Morpheus, and even Karasu would never sense it," the Darkqueen
agreed. "This was done long before the Sanctuary was ever created, so
it makes sense. The perfect shadow to hide a demon within forever."
	The young lady harbinger looked at them both, the lightening
beyond the broken windows illuminating the wolfen in the Darkqueen's
eyes. "My only question is...how did it break free?"
	Chaos smiled. "These runes cannot be broken. Only removed. But as
to who removed the seal, I have no idea."
	He could only listen to their words, unable to speak for himself
in matters he knew nothing about. But with each word they spoke, the
burning in his body grew, magnified. The mission was swallowing him
whole.
	"None?" the Darkqueen pressed. "In all your centuries of
existence, you can think of none who might hold such knowledge and
power to unleash a virtually invisible creature?"
	"Iie. Isn't it wonderful how the older the magik is, the more
powerful it becomes?" Chaos asked with a dark smile. "Really, it is a
thing of beauty. In today's world magik barely even has a hold, but in
the ancient realms beyond measured time, magik was the supreme force."
	Her ghost was still there to haunt his memories. A glance over
his shoulder found her arms wrapped around his own ghost's neck, moving
closer for a delicate kiss. Time was running out for her; these forces
now within his soul were pushing him on.
	Preparing him.
	The Elven lord leaned over, examining the horrific picture.
"They were, and still are, the Vampyre. That is their most ancient of
names. Sirens, succubuses, Chinese fox spirits: they are all different
titles for the same demon. Beautiful ladies, aren't they?"
	He spoke up, "But I was fighting a man."
	"A Vampyre is whatever it wants to be," the Darkqueen said. "Man,
woman, child, animal: choose a form that would lower your guard the
most, and a Vampyre will become just that. With a man, the Vampyre
flaunts extravagant deceptions. Their only purpose is to feel the
thrill of the slaughter."
	That voice. "...it's the children to fear for..."
	"You guardian angels only know the aura of the Vampyre," Chaos
said. "The Vampyre are creatures who hunt down the innocent, luring
them to their doom with the lie of a beautiful dream. Such an
unflattering method I must admit; they are quite loathsome and
vindictive creatures."
	"A Shadowdemon of the Earth," he said.
	The Elven lord chuckled darkly. "If wish to call them that. This
creature has already claimed the souls of three children. Unless
something is done, more will fall."
	"There's been nothing in the news," he said.
	Chaos picked up and toyed with a vase, its neck broken off.
"Sometimes you have to know what you're looking for to realize the
danger you're in. When a Vampyre claims a soul, that person becomes
their willing, mindless slave. Subservient only to the calling of their
angelic master, they help to lure others into its beautifully woven
traps."
	"Sorata," her voice cried out in sadness and pain. "Don't leave
me. Our child...."
	Two hearts beating as one, of mother and child. She would be so
much like her mother. Crimson eyes saw the rains turn scarlet again,
the teddy bear tumbling into the murky pools.
	He lifted his head, eyes closed as her whispers reached out to
him. "How do you know so much about them?" he asked Chaos.
	A jagged display of lightening bolts appeared in the window, the
room lit up in colours of electric purple and white. The mangled form a
human man was bathed in eerie hues.
	"I tangled with them once before," the Elven lord replied. "A few
challenged the authority of my Court. Seven of their best demons went
up against my Court of Chaos. Needless to say, we won. Mopped the floor
with them, in fact. Though I can't say the same for you, Sorata."
	Like to destroy like.
	Chaos gestured to his altered form. "And so you are left here in
limbo, not quite alive but not fully dead, until Thanatos can figure
out a solution. I assume that's Okami's body you've borrowed in the
meantime."
	Stormsoul to destroy Stormsoul.
	The Darkqueen agreed with Chaos. "Okami and I were hunting down
this Vampyre when we first felt its storm approaching. The Mystwolves
and the Vampyres have long since been sworn enemies, their blak magik
searching to poison not only Earth but the Dreamworld as well."
	He was no longer listening, running his fingers over the
artefact. Grinning skulls and void eyes. The answers laid somewhere
within it, within the scattered memories of life and death inside his
mind.
	"Call it out by its true name," he whispered.
	"Be careful when you do that," Chaos countered, reading the runes
upon the tower of skulls. Eyes narrowed. "Ah...I know this one. He's
one of the seven who tangled with my court."
	"You know it?" The Darkqueen seemed surprised.
	The Elven lord grinned. "Hai hai. If you see his true form,
you'll see what I did to him."
	"What was that?" he asked, absently running hand down an ancient
picture. So reminiscent of the beauty he saw in her face, a portrait of
a young woman with a gentle smile.
	"Look into its eyes and you'll know what I'm talking about,"
Chaos answered smugly. "Never did call it out by its true name though;
I managed to piss it off enough to have it emerge by itself. Damn
strong too, the most powerful of them."
	He slowly turned to the Elven lord. "You won."
	"I had my full power back then," Chaos countered. "I may have
absorbed the Vampyre's magik, but I got lucky at the same time. A
Vampyre cannot be killed until you know its name. Some kind of intimate
psychic connection, I suppose." Chaos glanced back at the window. "With
only one of the three crystals that seal my powers in my possession,
I'd just be an annoyance to it. Nothing like my true form."
	"We can still find it, and fight it," the Darkqueen stated.
	He closed his eyes, trying to reach out inside of the room. This
new magik within...with it he could sense things that were so subtle he
almost missed them. A hidden darkness lurking in the midst of this
storm.
	"I know you," he whispered. "We are now the same...."
	The Darkqueen and the Elven lord seemed oblivious to his quiet
obsessions. "How do propose we track it down now?" Chaos asked. "Last I
checked, Tokyo wasn't some little farming village. This Vampyre's
hunting grounds leave a lot of open space for just three of us."
	"We hunt as the wolfen hunt," the Darkqueen stated. "Sora's bound
by a new magik, one that is guiding him to the heart of this evil
storm."
	Her face.
	In their last night together, he was watching an angel sleep and
dream a dream of dancing through heaven's stars. So beautiful was her
face. She would wait for him to return.
	"...bring it out from the shadows of the storm it so lovingly
embraces..."
	With quiet dedication he had watched her. Nothing would happen to
her or their child. She would grow up to be just like her mother. His
fingers groped for a braid of raven wing hair that was no longer there.
	"A lot of good that does for us," Chaos said. "Vampyres are
masters of the shadow magik, hiding themselves in whatever fantasies
they please themselves to conjure up. Even you Mystwolves have a
helluva time trying to hunt it down."
	It's name.
	Somewhere within this ancient work, this grotesque and twisted
form of a mortal man, laid the answer. To call it out. To shatter its
beautiful illusions. Somewhere within all these runes.
	"Its storm has spread all across the city," Chaos growled
disapprovingly. "With each night of the endless clouds, it power grows
as it consumes more souls of the innocents."
	He stood, turning to the clattering balcony doors. The lightening
was beckoning to his soul. His Stormsoul. To discover himself was to
discover its name. Its name was lying within this room.
	The old magiks.
	The old myths.
	Somewhere in those words lurked its true name.
	Her face. He had caressed her cheek and brushed aside the stray
bangs of brown hair to watch her sleep.
	It had decided to seduce him but instead decided to kill him. It
found him irresistible. He would have glimpsed heaven and lost
everything. But he was the first. Only the first.
	"...and it finds Kino Makoto a very beautiful creature indeed..."
	Lightening flashed again, solely from his own will. Ripples of
magik swept into the room, blowing loose papers and debris across the
feet of his two companions.
	"Sora?" the Darkqueen asked.
	"What is it?" the Elven lord pressed.
	He turned, the wolfen eyes vanished now and the crimson eyes of
an angel in their place. The rune of the storm was starting to burn
against his forehead. He was beginning to understand it all, this new
magik beating with every beat of his heart. His heart belonged to her
and only her. Not for his own revenge. Not for the protection of the
city. She alone was the reason he had returned.
	"We leave now," he stated. "I know where it wants to go."


	Even though she was in shadows, the long-haired blonde groaned
and squinted upon seeing the lamplight. Something had clattered to the
floor, and she in her lapsed sleep was jolted back into the apartment.
	"Na ni?" she muttered, scanning the room. Everything seemed quiet
with only their breathing being heard over the rain and thunder from
outside. Was everyone else asleep? Lightening flashed, casting the
entire apartment in an eerie glow. The long-haired blonde's eyes
widened as the darkness was exiled for that brief moment.
	"Ami-chan?"
	The blue-haired genius was hovering in the air, arched back and
hands clutching chest as if the girl was trying to be wrapped in a
lover's touch. But the eyes; the blue-haired genius seemed to have lost
everything that was a window into the soul.
	Lightening flashed again, revealing long silver hair and piercing
magenta eyes watching her from behind the floating form of the blue-
haired genius. It was human, alluring and dark in its smile.
	The blue-haired genius moaned softly, feet just a few inches off
the ground.
	She was up from the couch before the thunder had time to rumble
over their heads. "What have you done to her?" she demanded angrily.
	Was this the demon that had killed the raven angel?
	It only smiled, chuckling in amusement as a parent might to the
innocence of a child. "Minako-chan," it soothed her. "This is all but a
bad dream, and when you awaken I can guarantee it will all be gone."
	She shook her head. "Iie! Give back Ami-chan! Give her back!"
	Suddenly it was gone, and standing behind her was the raven
knight. The long-haired blonde had no time to react before it turned
her head and fiercely kissed her. At first she began to struggle, but
then resistance ended.
	"Kishi," she whispered.
	The raven knight kissed her cheek, fingers nimbly working at her
buttons. Her own hands seemed detached from the rest of her body,
working to help undo her blouse. Kishi's tongue ran down her neck.
	"I can show you heaven, Minako-chan."
	The long-haired blonde gave a soft sigh, eyes already clouding
over. She tilted her head, offering herself to its powers, its hunger.
	A second soul was stolen as droplets of blood ran between its
lips. Then a startled but strangled cry arose from another corner of
the room. There stood the dark-haired shrine girl, staring at it with
horror and terror combined in one expression.
	"Shimatta!" the girl swore. "You!"
	It grinned, revealing the elongated fangs dripping with the long-
haired blonde's blood. "Komban wa, Rei-chan. Such a beautiful storm,
ne?"
	It chuckled as the dark-haired shrine girl tried to run. The girl
never even made it two steps before it swept her up and let the young
lady catch a glimpse of heaven. The dark-haired shrine girl struggled
vainly, the thrashing coming to a slow acceptance as blood ran down and
stained her white shirt.
	Then a soft moan as its hands caressed her inner thighs.
	"Here, Minako-chan," it said, letting the long-haired blonde
savour a taste of the girl's blood. "She's all yours now."
	Slitted cat eyes turned to the closed bedroom door brought to
life by the aura of lightening. It began to giggle. Not laugh or
chuckle, but giggle like a young girl.
	"Mako-chan," the young man whispered. "Let me show you heaven, my
beautiful angel...."


	The rains were cold as they poured down against the masquerade
wraith, but on this night he felt chilled for other reasons. Dread had
long since seized his mind, as if he was feeling his comrades fall one
by one without even fully knowing about it.
	He would hunt it down and kill it.
	To avenge Sora. To protect Ami-chan.
	Meikyu's flight bounced him off a light post and then onto the
sidewalk. Trenchcoat already soaked right through, he flicked the
thick--and now heavy--tail of earthen brown hair off his shoulder.
	"Where are you?" he muttered.
	Its scent was everywhere, the aura permeating everything.
	He began walking towards the crosswalks. Even at this hour, in
this storm, there were a few people outside. They seemed to hold the
common sense to have umbrellas. What good did such a luxury provide a
guardian angel?
	Sora had been an inspiration to them all. That single chance at
crossing over had given them all new hope and resolve. And still beyond
that, there had been a time before their kingdoms had come to be, where
they had first met.
	"Meikyu...."
	Meikyu barely even gave a second glance over his shoulder. "Give
it up, youma. I am far too good a hunter to be tricked by your sweet
deceptions."
	Hands wrapped around and clenched a glowing light that suddenly
became the Tsunami scythe. People around him were gawking as he
whirled, brandishing the weapon.
	There stood a young girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen. The
rains had soaked her school blouse and pleated skirt. Quiet, alluring
eyes focused right on him.
	"Shimatta," he whispered.
	This wasn't a demon; this was a human girl!
	The girl smiled, running a hand through curls of long brown hair.
"We almost look like twins, demon hunter. You wouldn't hurt your own
twin, would you?"
	"You're not the one I'm hunting," he stated. "Step aside or take
me to whatever did this to you."
	The girl giggled, and suddenly attacked. Fingernails painted
scarlet became like sharpened claws, raking down his chest. Meikyu
dodged the slash, unable to bring himself to raise the scythe against
the girl.
	"You won't kill me, Meikyu," the girl said. "I know you too
well."
	"I don't have to attack you directly to defeat you," he retorted,
delivering a swipe of the blade into the ground. That sent up a
shockwave of magik tearing through the sidewalk and hurling water in
every direction. The girl leaped aside from the miniature tsunami,
still giggling. But the second the girl touched the ground, a second
attack caught her up and slammed her into the pools of water on the
walkway. She screamed, lost in the cascade of falling liquid.
	And then he saw the face of the blue-haired genius looking at
him. The scythe went loose in his grip; what sort of illusion was this?
	"Meikyu, please!" the blue-haired genius cried. A hand was
reached out to him, pleading for him to stop the attack.
	"What the hell?" Meikyu exclaimed. Was this really his beloved
and blushing genius?
	Suddenly a new set of arms wrapped around his shoulders,
incredible strength wrenching him into the air as if he was just a mere
marionette. Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a glimpse of a girl
with sandy-blonde hair grinning at him from the shadows.
	That incessant giggling!
	"Why do you resist such beautiful dreams?" the blue-haired genius
asked, slowly undoing her blouse. "We have so much to give you, Meikyu.
Just let us show you heaven."
	"Damn you," he hissed, already aware of his fate.
	These people; why weren't they doing anything?
	He winced as he felt the fangs sink into his neck, bloodmagik
being violated and stolen. Jade green eyes slowly clouded over, the
battle already lost. The last thing Meikyu remembered hearing was their
cruel giggling.
	"Let us show you heaven...."


	"A magik which numbers three," he whispered.
	Crimson eyes widened as he saw beyond this City of Lights beneath
the star-swallowed darkness. He was flying, wings outstretched against
the torrents of cold, icy rain slamming against his skin.
	His vision, now his obsession.
	Another flying leap sent him high over the streets and their
lights and sounds. The City of Lights was passing him by, buried
beneath clouds and rains. A storm to possess all other storms. To
swallow up the heavens in a vile magik. To steal the purity of
everything on the Earth.
	He was dead, his world already stolen from him.
	Before he took the Mystwolf body.
	A scythe flashed from behind: his own shadow from beyond.
	"Give me a body and I shall destroy it," he whispered through
clenched teeth.
	A figure hidden by shadows nodded, and for a moment he saw a
silver like winter's mist. Arms stretched out to reveal the beauty of a
crafted longsword. A diamond eye faceted to give the reflection of his
face a hundred fold.
	Its name.
	Those two magenta eyes taunting him. Haunting him.
	His two escorts were starting to fall behind. He noticed and
never slowed. "Incredible," Chaos muttered, springing overtop a large
cooling unit. "He's like a man possessed."
	The Darkqueen landed next to the Elven lord, then was soaring
through the rainfall. "The heart of a raven angel is now within the
body of a Mystwolf, and a powerful new magik is now his blood."
	She was in danger.
	It wanted to steal her beauty. Her innocence. Her soul. Heaven
was just a kiss away from the shadows' door. Her long chestnut brown
hair soaked and matted against her forehead as she cradled his dying
body in her arms.
	If ever there was a day without a night....
	The voice of an Ancient coming to him. He had been following that
voice. "Take this sword. It is not the Arashi, but a weapon forged of
your soul and its bloodmagik."
	Ever a moon without its stars....
	Wings never beat against the rain. He was flying without them,
bare feet landing in a pool of water before catapulting him back out
into the storm's full fury.
	So too would be my soul....
	Her face.
	The torii at the base of misty mountains. The cobblestone path.
How brilliant the moon had been that night. He had pulled away, yet she
had taken his hand and pulled him back to her.
	If ever we were apart.
	"Mako-chan," he whispered. "Hold on for me."
	"...only once you may summon it, for this sword represents the
height of your Stormsoul, but its power shall be without equal..."
	He closed his eyes, longing to feel the warmth of her hand
against his skin. To feel her lips press against his. Thousands of
years of protecting his Dreamworld kingdom, culminating in a fateful
step beyond the mirror's reflection. Falling asleep in a bed of raven's
down on that first night.
	"Now and forever," he whispered. "I swear it, Mako-chan."
	It's name: old magik, old myths.
	Suddenly he understood.
	He knew it's name.


	She slept soundly for the first time in two days, quiet on the
covers of her bed, curled up like a small child with tresses of
chestnut brown hair flowing around her face. For as strong and
determined as she was, in that moment she looked so angelically
vulnerable.
	This was not a sleep brought on by the exhaustion from crying
tears. There was a peace in her heart, knowing that he would return to
her. There was something he had to do first, someone he had to protect.
	It was when the whispering began that she did stir, smiling as if
coming out from a dream with her lover, only to find him by her side.
	"Mako-chan," the voice called out to her softly.
	She lifted her head from the covers. "Sora?" she asked, trying to
see in the darkened room. Everything was in shadows of blue or black,
rain spattering across her window.
	The she saw the figure move towards her bed. "Do not be afraid,
Mako-chan," it said. "I have come from beyond your dreams to find this
City of Lights."
	The warmth of sleep was still in her mind, and for a moment she
thought it was his face in the glimmer of outdoor lights. "Who are
you?" she asked.
	"I have felt your eyes upon me, child," it said, its guise of a
young man smiling at her. "What is it that you desire from me?"
	She found herself blushing. "I...I...."
	Why was she doing this at the words of a complete stranger? Yet
she felt in some way that she knew this young man, recognized him from
another place or time. Was this one of the Dreamworld?
	She sat up on the bed, and then there he was, seated right next
to her. It leaned in beside her ear, whispering with a haunting voice
and haunting words. "You have such beautiful dreams, Makoto. Such a
tender angel."
	She was vaguely aware of a hand upon her shoulder, fingers
running along her skin. Another hand waved before her eyes, gesturing
to a realm opened up to her mind.
	A garden. Oh, such a beautiful garden. The flowers smelled so
sweet and fragrant, like the ancient fields she had once known.
Delicate petals of cherry blossom rained down around her, and the
midnight sky was brilliant with stars and moon. And standing there
among the flowers was her raven angel. He beckoned to her with his
hand, his beautiful face, his crimson eyes.
	"Sora," she whispered.
	"Hai," it answered softly, enticing her to step into the fantasy
of heaven. "That is why you are attracted to me, Mako-chan, because of
my bond with this raven angel. He is such a beautiful young man,
especially when he smiles. And he smiles for you, Mako-chan."
	She took a distant glance to the mirror, vaguely aware of her
pupils fading to be replaced with a vacant emptiness. It was so warm
here in this dream, wrapping her up, swallowing her very soul.
	It smiled, magenta eyes flashing in slitted form as lightening
exploded outside. But here inside was a garden at the base of the
mountains she had chosen.
	"Go to him. Touch him, and see that death could never keep him
away from you. Caress him, kiss him, taste his beautiful magik."
	He stroked her cheek, smiling gently at her. She could read his
passion for her within his crimson eyes. Her body was growing warmer
with each passing heartbeat. Seeing him die had only been a nightmare,
a distant one she could barely even place now.
	"It can be yours," it said quietly. "Yours forever. Join us,
Mako-chan. Soar through the skies on the wings of a raven angel. Let
his lips become yours, and never again will you feel this pain and
sadness. Taste his beautiful magik."
	She reached out to him, and he nodded.
	Such delicate crimson eyes.
	And then she hesitated. When last she had seen such crimson eyes
they were not as much delicate as determined, dedicated. The wings of
an angel.
	"Under another midnight sky I would have come for one last moment
together with you. It's still out there, Mako-chan, and I cannot rest
until it's dead."
	That was his voice, his true voice.
	She touched her lips, still remembering his kiss. Here in a
place, finding the down of a raven coming as the rain would. She saw
the teddy bear tumble into a puddle of water, discarded and forgotten
as she had cried out his name.
	"I can't ask you to understand, Mako-chan. I barely even
understand myself right now. This is something I have to do."
	The little child within her, their child. Two hearts beating as
one, her own giving life to the tiny soul already in her belly. A
daughter. The fallen teddy bear, its watery resting place growing red
in scarlet blood.
	"You've always been a strong soul for as long as I have known you
or your dreams. I'm asking you to stay strong for just a little while
longer, Mako-chan."
	"A lie," she whispered, shaking her head.
	It growled, the illusion of heaven starting to flicker. The image
of the raven angel was fading, cut to pieces and breaking away like
sand caught in the winds.
	"This is a lie!" she shouted, whirling around and slapping its
human face. "This is nothing but a lie! He's come back for me! You
bastard, you killed him!"
	The beautiful and savage garden crumbled. The bedroom around her
shattered apart like a mirror, shards containing her chambers within
their smooth surface. They were suddenly outside, and she was drenched
in seconds by the downpour. Lightening was parading around the sky with
an almost blinding aura around it, the thunder shaking the earth
beneath her feet.
	It snarled, baring its fangs. Magenta eyes turned hostile, the
slits returning. "You broke my illusion's hold. Not many of you sub-
creatures are capable of doing that. I wish I could say I was
impressed."
	With a grand gesture it motioned to the soaked city of Tokyo.
"Like this, Mako-chan? I created this storm; it's my home. Your own
power holds echoes of such magik. Perhaps that is why I was drawn to
you first."
	Emerald green eyes widened as she saw hovering all around her
everyone who had been there for her. The guardian angels, her closest
friends; it had stolen everyone from her. Near to that human figure
were three young girls she didn't recognize, their cruel laughter
reaching over the sounds of falling rain.
	She was staring at this human form with eyes fit to kill,
trembling with a near uncontrollable fury. All of her friends had
fallen just like him.
	"I tasted his blood right before he died," it taunted. "So
delicious, the blood of a raven angel."
	"Kon chikusho," she swore, her own aura of magik glowing around
her body. Such passion and dedication was her own, a duty to protect
her friends. He had died once already, and all she could do was stand
helplessly by and watch him breath his last.
	"Not again," she whispered. "I swear, not ever again." She lifted
her henshin to the skies, calling upon her power. If this was to be her
last stand, it would be one made on her feet in battle. Sailor Senshi
were not pushovers. Neither was she.
	Standing in her sailor battle fuku, she faced the demon. "Sora is
alive, and he's hunting you...but he'll never get the chance to destroy
you first! Jupiter Oak Evolution!"
	It simply smiled, dispelling the attack with a mere look in its
eyes. "Such petty magiks, princess. I can tell by your true aura now;
ancient powers like ours runs deep in the blood."
	A parade of lightening lit up the dark skies with furious tints
of white and blue, almost blinding. The streets seemed to convulse as
the waves of thunder exploded past her. It was nearly impossible for
her to keep balance.
	Suddenly it was right behind her. She whirled, only to feel its
hands locked around her throat. Hoisted up into the air, all she could
do was fight for breath.
	"I could crush your windpipe with disturbing ease," it stated.
"But then again it would pain me to scar such a beautiful face as your
own. Surrender to heaven, Makoto, and I will show you wonders you've
only dreamed about."
	The rage within seemed to burn more. She lashed out with a kick,
but even at full strength the strike against its chest held no effect.
In fact it just seemed to laugh at her.
	"Such pretty hair," it said, reaching out with its other hand to
stroke her soaked ponytail.
	It recoiled as a crimson streak slashed its face. Droplets of
black blood dribbled down its cheek. A red rose neatly cut into the
pools of water at their feet, petals glistening with the rain.
	"Let Mako-chan go!" a female voice exclaimed. It was the voice of
the odango-haired blonde, now a soldier born of ancient magiks. Behind
the sailor fuku-clad girl was the dark-haired prince, dressed in a
black tuxedo and billowing cape.
	It gave an indignant snarl. "Might I inquire of your name before
I tear you to pieces, little girl?"
	"Agent of love and justice!" the odango-haired blonde shouted.
"Pretty soldier Sailor Moon! I will never forgive you for what you've
done to my friends!"
	She was gripping its arm now, desperately trying to bring air
back into her burning lungs. "U-Usagi," she managed to choke out.
	It regarded the two warriors with mild interest. "Yare yare, it
appears I missed a few of you. But don't let that concern you, Mako-
chan; we can still have eternity together."
	All she could see out of the corner of her eyes were three
shadows pouncing on the odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired
prince. Cruel, girlish laughter rolled across the street like the
thunder.
	"Iie," she whispered, watching her friends fall just like all the
others. Not again, not like Sora. Emerald green eyes turned to this
demon in human skin, glaring with intense fury.
	"Yurusenai!" she screamed. "YURUSENAI!!"
	Both her hands locked around its wrist and her body became a blur
in the pouring rain as she swung her legs through the air and twisted
them around.
	A crack.
	Snapping of bones.
	She dropped to the ground, coughing and sputtering as she gulped
up air. Slowly she head titled up to see her friends. "Usagi-chan," she
said quietly. "Mamoru-san."
	Both the odango-haired blonde and the dark-haired prince were
caught in a heavenly illusion, hovering in the air just like all the
others. Those three succubuses were giggling, fondly stroking the face
of the prince.
	"Kuso," it muttered, appraising the damage to itself. "These
human bodies are just so damned fragile that almost anything can break
them apart." The human arm was bent backwards, bone jutting out from
the flesh. And the blood was black, dark and rich.
	She was on her feet without a moment's hesitation.
	"Shin'ne!" she exclaimed. She levelled a cold, hard punch to its
face, its head snapping back upon being struck. More bones cracked, but
it simply turned back to face her.
	She screamed as it seized her hair and used it to throw her
aside. She collapsed into a puddle, shaky but still ready to stand
again.
	"You bitch," it snarled. Black blood poured out from its
punctured flesh, coiling and wrapping around the wound. Steam rose up
in the rain, hot and moist. Glistening darkness turned to human
complexion.
	She growled, launching another attack. Everything was deflected.
Suddenly it disappeared in an explosive geyser of rainwater, washing
over her. She spat out the water, searching for its presence. Then an
arm wrapped around her neck, lifting her feet off the ground to
strangle her once again.
	"Such a pretty little angel," it whispered into her ear. "But can
you fly?"
	The city turned contorted in her vision and then she realized it
had hurled her high into the air. Her body twisted around as she soared
through the pelting rains, falling towards the road. In the blur of
colours she thought she saw the headlights of a car fast approaching. A
shrilling horn honked madly at her, but she could not answer.
	She cried out his name, not in fear but in a longing to be
together with him one more time, even if it was their last: "SORATA!!!"
	And then came the response.
	"MAKOTO!" he screamed, flinging himself across the street. In an
explosion of raven's down, enormous wings emerged from his back,
carrying his flight through the lanes of traffic. A split second later
he scooped her up in his arms. He corkscrewed upwards, cutting through
the rain as a car swerved to miss them both.
	Soft wings of raven's down wrapped around her as he alighted the
sidewalk, clutching her tightly. He wiped away the stray bangs clinging
to his forehead. "Daijobu, Mako-chan?"
	She nodded, embracing him in the hopes that this could last
forever. His eyes were his own, crimson and beautiful. No longer wolfen
or grim. There was gentle hope within his soul once more.
	"Sorry to make you wait so long," he said quietly.
	She kissed his cheek. "You made a promise, Sora. And I know you
keep your promises."
	"Ara ara," came the voice of the Elven lord. "I see you Vampyres
are still quite the petty sadists after all."
	It whirled, snarling as human, magenta eyes saw Chaos appear in
the rain, perched atop a telephone pole. On the pole next to the Elven
lord stood the Darkqueen.
	The Darkqueen gave a wicked smile. "Perhaps we should put it out
of our misery right now."
	"The Elven lord of Chaos," it growled, visibly displeased. "And
the Darkqueen as well. Ara, Sora, I see you are now in the company of
mine enemies."
	"I've got some old scores of my own to settle with your kind,
Vampyre," the Elven lord stated, knuckles cracking as Chaos made a
fist. "However, I'm not one to jump ahead. Ladies first, Hotaru-san."
	With a gesture, Chaos allowed the Darkqueen to take the
initiative to attack. The Darkqueen smiled. "Arigato, Chaos. Perhaps
you're not as tactless as I once thought."
	Chaos shrugged. "If you're going to wait all day for this,
Hotaru...."
	The Darkqueen grinned, revealing twin sets of fangs. Seconds
later, the wolfen harbinger was sending up waves of water in the wake
of a charge. Mystwolf battle aura erupted, combining with a deadly
punch that tore apart a set of the human's ribs.
	It howled, thrashing about in the storm as its entrails were
splashed across the sidewalk and fences behind it. A heartbeat later
the Elven lord was suddenly standing over it. One more savage blow
punched a hole through its skull, crushing the human head. Chaos
winced, letting the rain wash off the thick, dark blood from a bloodied
hand.
	"Disgusting," Chaos remarked. "Gomen ne, Sora, but it appears
that we took care of things first. I hope you don't mind."
	His embrace went slack, and he stepped forward. He shook his
head. "It's not over, Chaos."
	Abruptly a new set of laughter echoed across the streets, this
one bordering in sounding human. More and more it became animal,
horrific and grotesque. And then there its human form stood, perfect
and evil in every way.
	"What the hell?" Chaos exclaimed.
	"Elven fool," it hissed, unleashing its true powers. Chaos and
the Darkqueen were smashed aside, launched into the streets.
	He threw up his arm, halting their falls. The winds of the storm
were obeying his silent commands, gently letting the two drift onto the
ground.
	Like to destroy like....
	Lightening flashed once more, the howling winds carrying their
voices across the City of Lights. He watched the form of the human man.
It was summoning winds, and he was summoning his own tempests.
	"Sora," she said, taking a stance next to him. "I'll help you
fight. I want that demon destroyed."
	He turned, caressing her cheek. Despite the cold rain her skin
was so warm, and his magik could feel two hearts beating as one in her
body. "Iie, Mako-chan. This is something only I can do. This is my
revenge, my chance to put things right again. No matter what happens,
I'm glad we had this last chance to be together again. I love you,
Mako-chan."
	"You're powers have grown," it stated, walking forward. "I am
indeed impressed by the new magik you've acquired, raven angel. I never
would have guessed one like you could acquire the power of a
Stormsoul."
	He broke away from her, moving to close the gap between himself
and the demon. "I call you out by your true name, Vampyre. In death I
found no peace. But here in another life, I will kill you to protect my
beloved and my unborn child."
	"Then tell me," it hissed, magenta eyes flashing of sapphire and
scarlet evil. "What is my true name, raven angel?"
	His wings stretched out to their full length, unleashing a
torrent of raven's feathers that swirled around them all. "You may have
a name, but you have no blood, no feeling, no heart. You are a
Stormsoul, a myth, a magik best left forgotten and buried. I call you
out: Vritra!!"
	A bolt of lightening shot down from the heavens, its jagged and
crackling form wrapping itself around him as it struck the earth,
pulsating along his body like it was his lifeblood. The heat and energy
it generated didn't scorch his skin, only give him an aura of pure,
unbridled magik.
	It gave a blackest of smiles, dark eyes staring out at them with
sadistic pleasure. "You do know my name, raven angel. Then you must
also know my true form."
	The young man's hands reached back beneath the jawbone, digging
into the flesh. He winced as the young man's fingers sank into the
skin, blood running down human hands. With a sickening motion, the skin
of a human creature's face was pulled off like a mere mask. Revealed
instead was a mucus-coated skin of ghostly grey shaped in the form of a
lizard-worm. Fangs slowly unsheathed themselves out from behind its
elongated mouth. Two maddened eyes where three had once been glared at
them both.
	The overcoat bulged as if driven by a hundred new winds pulling
from all directions. A living shadow pulsated and writhed out, spilling
across the floor to form claws and wings and spindly arms. Everything
became a bleached white colour, resembling a living skeleton.
	Ever consuming, ever hungry.
	The demon's true form coiled around itself, a writhing mass of
bones and dripping darkness. "In over five thousand years, I have never
been called out," it said, the voice still that of a human. Its eyes
glared at him. "Even the Elven lord of Chaos failed at that. But you,
impudent angel, dare to force me to reveal my true form. For that, I
shall torment your soul for eternity, feasting on your never-ending
screams of anguish as I hang your broken body from my neck as a living
pendant."
	The skeletal worm's body rose into the air, hovering over the
earth as the storm fiercely pounded the City of Lights. Its two
maddened eyes glared at him.
	His own eyes burned with equal fury.
	"Sora," her voice cried out in sadness and pain. "Don't leave me.
Our child...."
	Two hearts beating as one, of mother and child. She would be so
much like her mother. Crimson eyes saw the rains turn scarlet again,
the teddy bear tumbling into the murky pools.
	Chaos' words: "I've seen this a few times before. Your soul is
crying out to the stars for a chance to return to Earth in a mortal
guise. There is still a reason for you to remain in that realm."
	"YURUSENAI!!" he howled.
	Triple runes burned across his body: thunder, lightening, winds.
He vaulted into the skies. Left behind was the exhausted body of an
ancient Mystwolf, who collapsed to the ground, shaking upon trying to
rise. But Okami's magik was drained from the mergence, and thus the
Mystwolf could not fight. She went to the Mystwolf, stopping abruptly
as the Darkqueen, despite being cut and battered in numerous places,
appeared next to Okami.
	"Let me hold my Mystwolf," the Darkqueen said.
	"Shimatta," Chaos muttered, managing to push off the ground. "I
don't recall it ever being so damned big! We can't do anything to help
while staying down here."
	"Do you have a better idea?" Okami growled.
	Chaos blinked. "As a matter of fact, I do."
	The Elven lord abruptly disappeared from sight.
	She looked up to watch the battle in the heavens.	It didn't
matter what any of them could do: this battle was between the
Stormsouls.


	They faced each other in the air, angels from different worlds,
now fierce enemies in this one: born of darkness and dreams, brought to
life by myth and magik, possessed with the powers of the raging storm.
Up here the rains were colder, fiercer, driven mad by the frenzied
tempests and armadas of streaking lightening.
	He glared at it with crimson eyes of a raven angel, enormous
wings of raven's night spread out at either side of his body. He
reached back to feel the severed strands of hair where a long and thin
braid had once been.
	"To think you are a Stormsoul," it spat, wormy body writhing
around the clouds. "To think you are like me."
	"I was reborn with this magik," he said evenly. "I was given a
chance to return to Earth, and put an end to your blak magik."
	The demon cackled contemptuously. "You? A mere sub-creature? Even
with that magik you are no match for me, raven angel!"
	They charged.
	Vritra flicked its tail, the end nothing but broken and jagged
bone meant to impale his body. He threw up his arms, the tail striking
his armguards, sparks flying as jagged bone smashed into the armour
plating. The blow sent him reeling backwards. At the last second he
managed to right himself and push off the side of a building.
	"Shimatta," he muttered. The demon was right; even with his Storm
magik he could not withstand the attacks of its true worm-like form.
	"Mako-chan," he whispered. "Please give me your strength. I
cannot destroy this evil alone. I need your magik."
	And then he heard that voice, the words spoken by the one who had
given him this chance. "...the purity of the storm's magik has been
poisoned by this vile creature..."
	Three different magiks were converging within him, being used to
fuel his power. "...I offer you a second chance, raven angel. Return to
Earth and destroy that which killed you..."
	"Our child shall grow up in a beautiful world," he whispered,
fists clenched.
	"...and then you can live again..."
	Storm magik.
	This was all about the magik of the storm's fury, possessed in an
incantation or enchantment or curse. To be reborn with the powers of
this Earthen rage was to become a Stormsoul. There had been a reason
for this rebirth. Thanatos, the Ancient of death and life, had given
him the body of a Mystwolf.
	Chaos' voice. "I've seen this a few times before. Your soul is
crying out to the stars for a chance to return to Earth in a mortal
guise."
	The Ancients of the storm magik had seen something within him. He
had been chosen to cleanse the city of this demon and its poisoned
darkness.
	"There is still a reason for me to remain in this realm," he
whispered. "I have a reason to come back." The runes of thunder, wind
and lightening suddenly vanished. And then the final rune of the storm
appeared on his forehead, bathing the entire city in a crimson light.
	Arashi, the rune of the storm itself.
	"Na ni?!" Vritra snarled, shielding its two good eyes from the
light.
	Far below in the city, she felt his magik exploding across them
all. Such a warmth in her own body. She closed her eyes, lowering her
arms and offering herself up to him. Lightening struck her body,
coiling around and yet leaving her skin unharmed. Slowly she raised her
hands, hovering before the silent Mystwolves.
	"Sora," she whispered.
	He understood it all so clearly in that moment. Ever since the
beginning, every breath, every heartbeat, every dream; the source of
all his magik, all it had ever been and all it would ever be...was her.
	She became lost in the furies of the storm, angel wings of pure
white unfolding out from her back. The band holding her hair back in a
ponytail broke apart, tresses of chestnut brown hair flowing around her
face.
	The mark of Jupiter burned on her forehead, unleashing a shaft of
emerald light towards the skies. Arcs of lightening swarmed around her
magik, crackling and exploding in all directions.
	Crimson eyes in the heavens slowly focused on the Vampyre,
narrowing as he became the Stormsoul destined to destroy the worm. "So,
I'm no match for you, ne, youma?"
	It's two mad eyes twitched, losing all control. The entire storm
over this City of Lights was slipping, falling victim to stars and sun
and moon. If this continued, the skies would become clear once more.
	"SHIN'NE!" Vritra roared, the skeletal beast lunging across the
heavens for him.
	He held his ground, the Storm magik abruptly dying out. Twin
wings of raven's feathers emerged where only one pair had once been,
and crimson eyes were suddenly a brilliant emerald green. Her emerald
green. One the earth below, she vanished from sight. Yet he felt her so
close to him, her touch all over his body, her magik breathing life to
his storm.
	The worm's jaws opened up to display savage rows of jagged teeth.
He made no resistance as it tried to swallow him up, and instead threw
out his arms. Suddenly the true power of the Stormsoul came to life.
	An electric blue shaft of light engulfed him.
	Vritra's jaws clamped down, writhing masses of black that might
have been storm clouds, and something much more worse, swallowing him
up. The worm continued past, its tapering body twisting around.
	Yet the light coming from his aura continued, bisecting the
creature in two as it moved. First the skull and then the long series
of curved rib walls. The demon howled as its bones began to crack apart
with a sickening sound. The tail spasmed as the light blew it
completely apart, bone debris raining down upon the city. The Vampyre
never even had a chance to scream before its body was blown apart
completely, reduced to ashes lost in the rains. All that remained was
the skull, left to writhe in agony.
	Three young school girls collapsed onto the soaked ground, black
ooze dripping out from their noses and mouths to mix with the water.
The darkness began to find substance and grow.
	One by one, those seduced and stolen by the Vampyre awoke from a
deep and dark dream they could not remember. One by one, they touched
the ground again as their souls returned to sparkle in their eyes.
Slowly they looked to watch the thrashing worm scream its last.
	Up in the skies, two maddened eyes where three once were bled a
thick and syrupy blood before erupting. Vritra's skull began to slide
apart, one end grinding against the next in falling. Its fangs were
coming apart, dashed to pieces by an unseen magik at lethal work. The
bones shattered like glass, exploding into fine powder that sparkled
like sands upon the beach. The sparkling lights grew brighter as they
scattered across the skies, becoming fixed and then becoming the light
of the stars once again.
	The rains ceased.
	The storm ended.
	As the last faint rumble of thunder died, the skies opened up.
Not merely a scattering of clouds, but as the Vampyre became the stars
it had once stolen, black became only darkness that would in a few
hours see the light of day once more.
	And there shone the brilliant crescent moon.
	The Darkqueen and the Mystwolf consort shared a look of finality;
this ordeal was over and the last known Vampyre was dead. The City of
Lights would find peace once more.
	"Ne, where's Sora?" the long-haired blonde asked, walking towards
them. "What happened to him?"
	"Mako-chan's gone too," the dark-haired prince said, helping the
odango-haired blonde up.
	Indeed the raven angel and the tall brunette had vanished, no
longer with their company. Both had been consumed within that final
explosion of light that had claimed the body of the worm.
	Meikyu solemnly looked up at the heavens. "They sacrificed all
their power and magik to ensure that Vritra was destroyed. They both
died in killing it."
	A silent gasp went across them all.
	"Iie," the odango-haired blonde whispered hoarsely. To grieve the
loss of one, and now grieve for them both would be almost too much.
	Suddenly the skull of the lizard-worm pushed out from the
pulsating shadows. Vritra had been reborn. Its new form launched itself
into the air, towering over them all. "Filthy sub-creatures of Earth!"
it roared. "Prepare to die!"
	"Masaka!" the blue-haired genius exclaimed, recoiling. The
masquerade wraith leaped in front of the girl, scythe bared and ready
to be wielded.
	"Chikusho," Kishi swore.
	The worm laughed, hatred in each echo its voice. "Baka angels. I
was still merged with those three girls from the very start! The raven
angel only killed an extension of my body!"
	The Vampyre snarled, seeing which one it would kill first.
	And suddenly there was Chaos.
	"Wait!" the Elven lord exclaimed, appearing to hover before the
beast. "Before we come to our grand finale, please allow for one magik
trick!"
	"Damned Elven!" the Vampyre demon roared, snapping its jaws at
him.
	Chaos darted through the air, back to a safer distance. He
smiled, glancing back at the odango-haired blonde to give a playful
wink. "And for his next great game, his lordship Chaos will now make
this creature of darkness disappear!"
	The Vampyre lunged for the Elven lord, its massive form of
darkness wrapping around all possible means of escape. Even with its
deafening roar shaking the ground, Chaos remained perfectly calm. For
resting in the Elven lord's hands was a Pandora Box. Chaos' fingers
brushed against the lid, pulling it out from the chest. With a
tremendous throw the Elven lord launched the Pandora Box out into the
heart of the Vampyre.
	In a flash of ocean blue light everything became lost. And then
nothing. Chaos leisurely descended back to the ground, the Pandora
Box's lid now shut tightly, and the sapphire lock placed over it.
	"Wha...what happened?" the long-haired blonde asked hesitantly.
	Chaos chuckled. "I beat him for the second time in a row."
	"You sealed the Vampyre inside the Pandora Box," the Darkqueen
said. "Very impressive, Chaos."
	He tapped on the lid. An enraged series of dull thumps from
inside the box responded. The Elven lord chuckled. "Oooh, he sounds
pissed. But I don't think Vritra will be coming back anytime soon."
	"However," the blue-haired genius pointed out. "There is no empty
Pandora Box left. Chaos cannot be sealed."
	Chaos cocked an eyebrow, feigning innocent surprise. "Why, so it
is! What an unexpected yet marvellous turn of events!"
	"Please," the dark-haired prince said, chuckling none the less.
"You planned that out perfectly, Chaos."
	The Elven lord feigned hurt. "Oh, now that saddens me. Don't you
trust his lordship Chaos?"
	Came the resounding reply: "No."
	"You are all so suspicious," the Elven lord sighed.
	Meikyu passed by Chaos, giving a friendly pat on the Elven's
shoulder. "And with good cause."
	Chaos considered that. "True. Very true."
	"Of course," the voice of the Tsukino child pointed out. "Helios
can very easily create a new one for you."
	Many in the group spun around, only to be presented with the
sight of the Tsukino maiden and the DreamMaster standing on the edge of
the sidewalk. How long the two of them had stood waiting there, none
could be certain.
	"Chibiusa!" the odango-haired blonde exclaimed.
	"Chibiusa-chan," Chaos said fondly. "What brings you here?
Throwing me a victory celebration already?"
	"Forgive our absence from your battle," the Tsukino child said,
bowing. "In bargaining for Sora to become a Stormsoul, Helios was
unable to intercede with his own magik."
	"What does it matter?" Kishi said. "Sora and Makoto are both dead
now. They didn't have to, since Chaos sealed Vritra in a Pandora Box."
	The Tsukino child shook her head. "Iie, Kishi. Nothing of magik
ever truly dies. They are just reborn."
	"Where are they now?" the prince asked.
	The answer was spoken by the Darkqueen, one who understood the
magiks of this battle that were operating in shadow. "In Thanatos'
realm."


	Such a warm feeling, a warmth born of dedication and love,
brought together by something that not even destiny could fully weave.
At first perhaps born of a child and his mother; how long ago had he
been held like that? Then he saw emerald green eyes, smelled the sweet
fragrance of chestnut brown hair. Soft, gentle skin caressed his cheek.
	He awoke, eyes opening.
	No longer crimson, but of an emerald forest.
	An atrium, majestic and beautiful. Once it had been a shrine to a
queen sleeping within a glass coffin. Now there was a large, shallow
fountain in place of that coffin, peaceful waters lapping at the stairs
leading into the sunken floor. Stone fish and water dragyns leisurely
spouted more water across the pool. And all around this place, a wall
of arches.
	"What am I doing here?" he asked himself quietly.
	She was laying there in his arms, sleeping soundly, her head
resting against his chest. He smiled in stroking her tresses of long
brown hair. So peaceful, so innocent and vulnerable in her sleep; it
was hard to imagine that she could also be a soldier ready to die for
what she believed in.
	Ghosts of the past flickered across the Gallery, memories born of
the Sanctuary and its magik. Each one possessed a face he recognized, a
form he knew.
	"Who are your shadows?" he whispered.
	A fading flicker of the DreamMaster stood next to the pillar.
"They are the raven angels."
	 The Wanderer appeared now, leaning next to Helios against the
pillar. "Ever since your death sent ripples through the Dreamworld,
they have been using their own powers in the hopes of finding you."
	The DreamMaster glanced at a new spectre emerging from winds and
mysts. Thanatos. Cloaked in a hooded robe of blackest night, bearing a
scythe that appeared more dangerous than that of the masquerade wraith.
A hand moved to the skull face, removing the grinning, bleached white
mask.
	"I've been here from the start. Every step this raven angel has
made, I was there to see the footprint." Thanatos glanced over at the
Wanderer. "Long time, no death, Karasu."
	That drew a chuckle in response. "I see your rather macabre sense
of humour hasn't changed either, Thanatos."
	Both seemed to vanish, blown into wisps of grey air as a draft
rippled through the Gallery. Thanatos reappeared, knelt down on the
last step before the waters of the pool. "I was presented with a
dilemma when you were killed. Your soul refused to find peace, nor
could it even if you had died naturally."
	Emerald green eyes rested upon her sleeping form, watching her
breath peacefully. Two hearts beating in her body, both of them already
beautiful.
	"It was your decision to keep me in this state until I could
destroy the Vampyre," he said. He turned away, and found the spectre of
the Wanderer sitting against the interior of an archway. "Can Karasu
give me a new body with an illusion?"
	The ScytheMaster's ghost rose, drifting. "I'm afraid that's
impossible. His illusionary powers cannot revive the dead."
	He lowered his eyes; he was a raven angel. His magik held legal
rights in the Earthworld, and his death was beyond Thanatos' powers.
"What about my Imagika?" he asked.
	Again the ScytheMaster appeared, sitting beside him. "Iie. The
raven angels upon coming to earth are without such things."
	His eyes widened. "N-Na ni?" he whispered hoarsely.
	"Daijobu," the voice of Helios soothed him. "I have known of this
for a long time. The Imagika of a raven angel lies within their
Dreamworld; the realm they choose to create and defend is their
Imagika. That is why a guardian angel has always died when the place
they protected was destroyed."
	"Alone I would not survive," he said, staring up at the skylight.
"But then my life on earth should not have been."
	Helios shook against those words.
	"Iie. Your soul, your lifemagik, was bound with another,"
Thanatos answered. "You were always tied to the life of your beloved,
Sora. You became a part of her, your own Imagika left behind to keep
your kingdom and its dreamers alive. And when her time to pass from
this earth occurs, you shall disappear to be with her in an eternal
dream, together forever."
	A crescent moon shone down upon him. Basking in its warm glow,
once more a child in the arms of his mother. Raven wings appeared,
folding around them both. He saw the sparkle from her ring. She had
kept her promised, and waited for him.
	"It has already happened," he stated.
	The Wanderer appeared in behind him. "But it appears the Ancients
are not finished with you two yet."
	The DreamMaster appeared, hand drifting in the fountain waters.
"Karasu, your father left you with more than just an Imagika. It was
his sphere of illusion, everything that gave him a life on Earth."
	The Wanderer was there, standing on water. Looking at him from
behind a pair of shades that hid crystal blue eyes. Karasu's silver
cloak fluttered in a wind he could not feel.
	"Karasu, it is not my wish to force this upon you," he said
quietly. "All I can ask...all I can hope for...is--"
	Abruptly the Wanderer spoke but one word: "Hai."
	He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling the magik within his soul.
This was a part the warmth he felt. He could feel his life and his
heart returning to him. He began to cry, weeping at the beauty of life
being reborn within him.
	The ScytheMaster's phantom appeared once more. "Sora, without
Morpheus' sphere of illusion, your spirit will be put to rest among the
stars. You can take a mortal body, but in doing so you will become the
DreamSeer. Never again will you be able to cross over to Earth unless
it is to safeguard a surviving magik. I can only give you one night
before my own power is overruled, and you must return to the
Sanctuary."
	She stirred, quietly moaning and burying her head deeper in his
arms. He smiled, lowering his head and kissing her forehead. She was
dreaming the beautiful dreams of an angel. "Mako-chan, wake up," he
said quietly. "Please, I ask for her resurrection in place of my own.
Without her, my own dreams become darkness."
	He saw for but a brief moment the flicker of someone dressed in
black standing within the shadows. "She sacrificed her magik and thus
herself to destroy Vritra. Her heart is pure, her soul is strong and
dedicated."
	Eyes of emerald forests abruptly fluttered open, and she sighed
as his face became her first new memory. Their hands found each other's
and fingers laced together.
	The ghost of the ScytheMaster seemed to smile behind the skeletal
mask, turning away and disappearing. "This would not be the first time
I have granted such a request for her, Sora. But unlike you, she is
human, and will return to Earth. There is nothing I can do to change
that. Sayonara."
	Everyone around him faded. Only she was left in his arms.
	She sat up, still watching him with quiet affection.
	"Mako-chan," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "You're awake."
	The Wanderer's spectre, hidden with the shadow of a pillar,
turned and disappeared to another kingdom of the Dreamworld, once more
a lost soul walking the dreamscapes of an eternal midnight sky.
	"I had the strangest dream," she said, touching her lips. Her
hands moved to stroke his cheek. "Sora...your eyes."
	Indeed, his eyes were no longer crimson. That had belonged to the
raven angel who died. Now he was reborn, her lover and her guardian.
Her magik was now his, and thus his eyes had become like emerald
forests of deep green.
	"Your magik," he answered. "Arigato, Mako-chan. I could have done
nothing without your strength. You are forever my inspiration and my
beautiful angel."
	She smiled, her head resting back on his chest. "It's so warm
here, Sora."
	"Hai, Mako-chan. Sleep all you want. I'll be here as long as you
need me to be."
	Her eyes closed again, exhausted from the ordeal. And so she
slept, spending their last night together as Earth children in his
arms. There could have been so much for them to do, so much for them to
say in these last hours.
	Yet sitting here, cradling her as she slept, felt more perfect
than anything else. Completion in her eyes, his soul belonging wholly
to her. He watched the unhurried waters of the fountain bubbling across
the pool. In a gallery not to far from this one, a wyvern awoke from a
sleep in gold, and called out to the corridors.
	"I'll always be here for you," he whispered, the tears starting
to fall from his eyes. "Mako-chan, I love you. And I will do anything
for you and our child, our daughter."
	There was sadness in accepting the only way they could still be
together yet still remain apart. He would not be there for her to
cuddle up next to in falling asleep. His once crimson eyes would not
greet her each morning as she awoke.
	He brushed some stray bangs of hair away from her face. "I shall
wait for you, just as I did long ago at a torii standing near the base
of lofty mountains...in a dream I once used to dance in before we
travelled your realm together. Now and forever."
	He gently placed a hand on her growing belly.
	What should they name her?
	Eyes of emerald forests looked to the stars, twinkling lights
shining down on them while circling a crescent moon. There would be
plenty of time to decide that. Together as Earth children there was
only the night, but as lovers there was only eternity....


	He stood atop the Tokyo Tower once more, watching in silence as
the darkness at last began to die. In its place, sweeping hues of red,
orange and purple tinted the skies. Light was returning to this city,
one destined to become legend. There were those amidst these glass
castles who were like him, souls of those who knew of the old magiks.
They had rediscovered those ancient of powers, and were once more using
them to protect this realm.
	This Earthworld.
	Silver eyes, clouded like the winter's mist, stared out at the
vast expanse of cityscape before him. Once more he found himself drawn
here, to this place where steel and glass all came together to form a
tower. Strange to feel the magik coursing vividly within this
structure.
	Early morning winds played with the front bangs of jet black that
were dangling at the eyes. And those two eyes were clouded over, the
vision within them lost.
	He was blind.
	And yet he could see beyond sight, beyond what the eyes could
simply see. Magik knew not a handicap such as blindness. He was one of
them, an Ancient, one of those to become the first to master the
elusive arts of magik these Senshi so freely wielded today. And because
they were the first, their power in the magiks was immense.
	He was one of them. And something so much more than them. For in
order to see beyond what can be seen with only human eyes, one must
lose the humanity within their eyes. He could not recall when those
eyes now a blurred silver had watched the sunrise as any other person
would. All he saw now was the way the magik moved with the sun, the way
it reflected off the hollow, empty buildings.
	In being blinded, he had been gifted.
	A chance to use the magik given him.
	A dream to create a new realm unlike any other.
	"So," a voice said, cutting through the silence he seemed so
content with. "It was you who released Vritra after all."
	The Raithe continued to stand on the edge of the Tokyo Tower's
observation deck, watching the skies begin to clear with the dawn of a
new day. He never gestured or hinted to any form of response.
	At last he spoke. "It was necessary, Thanatos," he stated. "The
Wanderer cannot remain entrapped within the Sanctuary any longer."
	From behind the Raithe, the one who was the Ancient master of the
Scythe shifted from the concealing shadows. Thanatos joined him at the
edge of the tower, both staring out into the heavens.
	"What is it that you see?" the ScytheMaster asked quietly. "Of us
all, you are the only one who remains a mystery."
	The Raithe slowly looked to Thanatos. "What I see are for my eyes
alone. It is a dream that must be fulfilled, but no longer by my
hands."
	That drew a laugh from Thanatos, dark and sensing the hidden
irony in that statement. "Yare yare. This coming from the one who has
been subtly manipulating history from the shadows for over a thousand
years. I suppose I should be grateful that I know of your existence at
all."
	He nodded. "The only reason you have to know of my name is
because of him, because of the Wanderer."
	Thanatos leaned against the shaft of the unsheathed scythe,
glancing first to his eyes of blind wintry silver and then out to Tokyo
once more. "You told me not to end his life when he gave it up for
Princess Serenity inside the Dreamworld," the ScytheMaster said in a
low voice. "No one has ever told me anything before. They've asked,
begged and even threatened out of fear. But never stated with such
certainty as you did."
	"He is special," the Raithe answered. "As Princess Serenity is
the key to the future of your realm, so is the Wanderer to mine. Both
of their magiks must be preserved if the future is to survive what is
to come."
	He knelt down at the edge, cloaks and garments, each a different
shade of midnight skies, shifting as he moved. The winds pushed against
a coat of darkness that seemed to be vibrantly breathing around his
body. There was so much left to be done, so much that must be left
undone. So many times he had worked with an invisible hand to let the
final dream be realized, but now it was no longer up to him.
	"What do the others know about my involvement?" he asked
Thanatos. "Your other counterparts?"
	Thanatos merely shrugged. "They suspect, but cannot be certain
that you even existed to unleash the Vampyre from beneath the seal of
rune incantations. A few of them want to know how Sorata possessed the
their magik of the storm, but most have dismissed it as a symbiotic
relationship with Kino Makoto. And I think they are all starting to
watch me with caution as well."
	"Let them watch you to their heart's content," the Raithe stated.
"They will find nothing of me, just as nothing of me has been found for
so many tens of thousands of years."
	The tragic end of the Silver Millennium had sent a court of
surviving Ancients into hiding. And as the magik slowly faded from the
Earthworld, so too had these Ancients faded, withdrawing to their own
devices. He had never bothered with them, even from the beginning. They
all knew of his magik, but not of him.
	Of all those within that court of Ancients, Thanatos seemed to be
the one who possessed the restless heart, and return to Earth to watch
it. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had chosen to make himself
known to the ScytheMaster.
	He had chosen to remain a wanderer by his own rights within two
realms at once. His footsteps echoed in every part of the world where
magik had once been. For so long he had watched in silence as the
Earthworld forgot. And now the old magiks had appeared once more.
	"Sailor...Senshi," he whispered, his voice barely audible even to
the winds moving past him. He had never encountered any like them
before. Not since the Silver Millennium. And now they were the keys to
the future.
	To a rebirth.
	Thanatos' words reached his ears once more. "You released the
Elven lord of Chaos as well, then."
	He shook his head. "Iie. That was not my doing."
	From beneath the hood and the grinning skull mask, the
ScytheMaster's eyes widened. This came as an unexpected revelation, and
he found it slightly amusing to see an Ancient react so.
	"But then who...?"
	The Raithe stood up once more in sensing the shift of the winds
of magik. No longer was he watching the city, but now acting as its
guardian. A child of his own he had to protect, and in doing so this
place also fell under his protecting magiks.
	"At last," he whispered. "It's finally here."
	The Scourge was awakening....