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To Fade Into the Sky of Waning Stars - Chapter 1.A Saint Seiya fanfiction by Ariane Kovacevic, AKA Fuu-chan. Foreword (such a snobbish word, ah well ^^;) For Saint Seiya fans, I'm warning you, this is a very bizarre fanfic. Those who are aware of my chronicles of the Sumeragi family won't be so surprised, I guess, because they're used to my antics. ^^ This fic uses concepts taken from side matters of the Babylon 5 universe. Hence the title (homage of sorts to "And the Sky, Full of Stars"). At the start, I wanted to cross the two universes. It didn't work. You don't want to know. Just trust me when I say that they can't be mixed and that I'd have ended up doing stuff that'd have sent B5 fans on a quest for my head through all the known and unknown universes, and beyond. So I came back to doing a purely StS fic. But I want it to be clear that this story owes a lot to B5--and what I'm refering to will be obvious well before the end of this chapter.
Fuu-chan.
It was getting worse. This particular report didn't exactly contain anything out of the ordinary, but the steady increase in the civilians' death toll and in the slow, stable decline in supplies delivery painted a grim picture--much grimmer than the general public was bound to realize. The guerilla had retreated beyond the Rim, but its roots in the southern hemisphere were deep. It would take months, perhaps even years to get the situation back under control. Meanwhile, the rebels kept sinking further down the road of blind terrorism. The military kept to their grief-induced decision to reply with deadly force, swearing that for each victim they'd take down ten of the so-called freedom fighters--them and their families. Their friends. Their homes. This tabula rasa policy was already three and a half years old, and nothing had changed. The Deimos startrain frequency had dropped to a single Earth-Mars rotation per month. People died. More and more people. "Well, I told them." In the same time that the sulky voice reached his ears, Gabriel felt power flood the small room, wiping out what small quietness had inhabited it until now. He blinked when the burning wave rushed past him, then he sat back against his chair and took his attention away from the thick pile of reports he'd been busy examining, to set it in the young woman who had barged into his study without knocking--not to mention asking whether it was okay to interrupt the one person who happened to be the current head of the Sanctuary. Taka was like that. She had always been, and would always be rash and passionate, unable to grasp the need for patience and diplomacy. Taka was Leo, and Taka was Fire--burning flames that Gabriel could see devouring her dark blue gaze even now. She was also young, mean-tempered, and stubborn. If only because of her, Gabriel was glad for the abrogation by one of his predecessors of the cruel and absurd law that had obliged female Saints to wear masks and deny their femininity. Thanks to the repeal of that senseless, chauvinist rule, he could catch the tell-tale signs of Taka's abrupt mood swings a heartbeat before they actually happened, and brace himself. In the ghostly light of the candles that were the room's sole source of light now that night had fallen, the Leo Gold Saint's chestnut brown hair shone, tumbling over her shoulders like unruly seaweed. Pretty seaweed, to be sure, but the fact that Taka rarely took the time to give her hair a true, thorough combing showed. Inwardly Gabriel smiled. It didn't matter much after all. Among all the qualities required to make a Gold Saint, coquetry ranked extremely low--roughly around absolute zero. Calmly, he met Leo Taka's gaze and gave her a level stare. Waiting in silence. Apparently unaware of her impropriety, the young woman stepped to Gabriel's side and laid--slammed, rather--a hand on the table, threatening the pile of reports' fragile balance. "If that falls and those papers scatter everywhere in the room, I'll make you gather every single one of them and set them all in order, you know," Gabriel sighed. Taka blinked, and took a good look at the table. Then she had the good grace to blush. "I'm sorry, Gabriel, I--" with an abrupt wave of the right hand, she almost swatted the reports aside, then she let a slow hiss pass through her lips. "Raziel will not come." Taking a deep breath to regain a semblance of composure, the young woman added, "I told her that the request came from you and that she should honor it--that all of us should honor it, coming from the head of our order and the Goddess' representative on Earth." Gabriel scoffed, unable to help himself. "Don't tell me you really thought to sway Raziel's decision with that!" Taka grimaced. "She laughed, just like you did. Then she said she had better things to do than to waste hours bickering around a table to achieve nothing other than a re-statement of what we are." "So," Gabriel pursed his lips, imagining the half-contemptuous, half-playful expression there must have been on the Virgo Gold Saint's lips when she had delivered that pique to Taka. A pique that had been directed toward him. Gabriel bowed his head, almost imperceptibly, acknowledging the truth behind the words of the brilliant, prideful woman who had snatched the right to wear the Virgo Cloth from men who had been thought to be far beyond her reach. "Shiva will be there," Taka was saying, unaware that Gabriel had stopped listening. "Aries wasn't anywhere to be found, as usual," she snorted, "and as for Gemini," she heaved out a sigh, "the temple is empty, and I don't even know where he might be--that is if he exists at all." The Pisces Saint's presence was a given, just as the Gemini Saint's absence was. But Raziel-- Raziel was another matter. She saw deep, deeper than most, but her arrogance sometimes came in the way of her analysis, leading her to discard a matter on which hinged far more than satisfying childish whims. The Virgo Saint had guessed as to who was behind the call for a council, and thus she had judged it to be unworthy of her time. A mistake, or-- "It looks like Raziel was aware that the request isn't truly mine," Gabriel mused aloud, interrupting Taka on impulse. Watching the young woman standing before him. Watching, as anger again sparked the night-colored eyes. As irritation and what might have been contempt twisted the sharp lines of her face. "Aries?" she spat the question as she would have done for a bite of spoiled grape. Annoyance was plain in the tone of her voice. "Don't tell me you still listen to that fool!" With a brusque shake of her head, she mumbled, "Had I known, I'd never have agreed to be your messenger to convince the Six to gather." A child. A young, sulking child. A fond smile came to Gabriel's lips, and gently he said, "Maybe so. I'm sorry to have deceived you, Taka, but the bottom line is that, when one of you requests a hearing, I must listen." "But it doesn't mean you have to grant him what he wants!" she burst in. "He's too young, too full of chaos! He's noise and disorder, and--" Young, yes. As young as Leo Taka was, and yet.... "And he doesn't belong--" the young woman who was still a girl in many ways stopped herself in mid-sentence, realizing what it was she had just said. Gabriel knew as he saw a shadow darken her gaze and shame color her cheeks that she wished for nothing more than to take back those words, but there was no unuttering them. It was out in the open, at last. What she and most of the Sanctuary thought. What he was often tempted to think as well. "No, I don't have to grant the Aries Saint's request, that's true," Gabriel retorted in an even voice, feigning to ignore the turmoil of emotions spilling out of Taka. She didn't say anything. Surprised, he focused wholly on her. She had frozen in mid-movement, her back halfway to him, and her eyes had gone wide. She blinked, then faced him in a slow, reluctant motion. In a low, intent whisper, she asked: "What did you see in the sky above the altar on Star Hill?" The darkness was gone from her gaze, as if blown away by a powerful wind. She was looking at him, watching--weighing the silence between them. Gabriel let the question hang for a while. Taka was Leo; she was Gold. As such, there was much more to her than met the eye--much, much more. He had forgotten that for a moment, he had allowed that fundamental truth to slip away from his mind. He was lucky it was Taka facing him and not Shiva, not-- "The futures," he said softly at last. Taka trusted him, even though she realized he was likely withholding information from her. It was in her to do so, to keep faith against all odds--to remain true once she had committed herself. Her very nature demanded it, but it didn't make such a gift any smaller. That she had voiced the question aloud and let him know she had seen deeper than he had anticipated was yet another proof of her loyalty--not that he needed any. "Tomorrow night's meeting will be an informal one," he observed in a quiet voice. "There's no obligation for any of you to be present, but...will you come?" With a small shrug, she gave him a nod. "Aye." Then she pivoted on her heels and exited the room without another word. Tilting his head backward, Gabriel stared at the ceiling without seeing it. He had no choice. None. They were at a crossroads. Forces were pulling at the Sanctuary, in opposite directions--Aries one of the strongest among them. Aries was Fire, a Fire as bright as Taka's, but different. Demanding. Blinding. Proud. He was chaos, in this at least Taka was right, but that was just one side of the matter. Aries wasn't just a loud, selfish brat, just like she wasn't simply a hot-headed, mulish girl. The Sanctuary was fast nearing a point of rupture. A moment of truth from which there would be no turning back. Gabriel was Libra, he could feel the threat to the ages-old balance of things in his blood and in his bones. It could unmake everything the Saints of Athena had fought, bled and died for for millennia. It could destroy them, and maybe through them--beyond them.... Gabriel closed his eyes tightly shut, willing the memories to retreat to the back of his mind. The imprint left in his soul by the visions he could glimpse when he stood before the altar atop Star Hill was deep. Sometimes it was hard to master them; they kept rushing to the fore, splashing his consciousness with a riot of flames and thunder. It hurt, but it didn't matter. Tomorrow's unofficial council did. It was starting. There was no preventing it, no matter how Gabriel wanted to. The balance was breaking, and nothing would stop it. He could only watch, weigh the forces pulling at the Sanctuary and pray they'd be given a chance. To pray there'd be another balance they could reach. It could be that Raziel had seen this far--it could be that the Virgo Gold Saint had declined participating because she knew she was a power too great. A presence too bright. An existence that could tip the balance with a single word. It could be. Tomorrow, four out of the Six would meet, and Gabriel would have to play the part of the arbiter. That was his task as the keeper of the balance. Heaving out a weary sigh, he stood up and exited the study. It was happening at the wrong time. There was only he to confront the future, and he was inadequate. He was alone, without guidance. The Goddess should have been reborn for years by now. Her presence should radiate through the Sacred Domain, setting hearts and minds at rest. At peace. The Goddess Athena hadn't come back to the Sanctuary. It might be she had abandoned them. It might be that the Sacred Domain was doomed--that their existence had lost all meaning in this age where gods had vanished from the face of the Earth, and where humankind had developed weapons with a power so terrifying it rivaled with that of a Gold Saint. It might be there was nothing left for the Saints of Athena to protect. As Gabriel closed the study's door, a sudden, treacherous gust of wind scattered the dozens of papers telling the latest reports in an ugly, bloody civil war. A war that had just celebrated its fifth anniversary, and looked like there would never be an end to it. "Mission end point has been reached." A dull red light abruptly flashed from the board set before me, while the same artificial female voice repeated, "Mission end point has been reached. This simulation will be terminated in five seconds. Please gather all your personal belongings before leaving the training deck." "Yeah," I told it, "yeah. Like I'd need to bring anything, anyway." With a grin, I stood up from the pilot's seat and then briskly strode out of the makeshift bridge. It had been fun--not to mention a piece of cake. It wouldn't take me much longer to exhaust all the possibilities of the simulation I had started to run only a week ago. That was too fast. Sighing, I acknowledged that sad fact, and hoped that Star Ride still had many more levels of difficulties beyond this one. Fun though it was, still the impressively realistic flights lacked of something and, as time passed, I was fast growing weary of them. "Done already?" Turning to face the direction the voice had come from, I laughed. "As if you hadn't come to meet me here after watching and filing away the whole mission's data, Vassili!" On impulse, I stepped to his side and gave a gentle pat on his shoulder. "So, tell me, how did I do?" He could record everything he wanted. They could analyze the data during a thousand years. It didn't matter, they couldn't find anything. There simply wasn't anything for them to find. Next to me, Vassili shrugged, and faced me. "You know full well how you did, Cendre." There was a tired smile on the sun-tanned face. "There's no way the military would recruit you, though. You're too old and too unpredictable--not to mention insubordinate and difficult. Granted, you manage amazingly well without using any input link. How you can win through all the obstacles we throw your way while turning a deaf ear on our advice to use the instruments at your disposal, I don't know." The middle-aged flight instructor shook his head and looked away from me. "Your statistics baffle all the experts who've worked on them, as I'm sure you're fully aware of." He made to leave, then, but abruptly froze in his steps. Over his shoulder, he asked, "This is all a game to you, isn't it? You're just playing. Why are you doing this, Cendre?" For the time of a heartbeat, I tasted the sincerity in the question, and felt a smile curl up my lips in answer. Was Vassili dropping the mask now, after three full years of patient teaching and advising? Were they getting that desperate? Playing--we all were playing, they and I, and others they might be aware of but could never hope to understand. We were playing, but it was far from being a game. Or perhaps it was. And perhaps I could indulge myself and give him the truth. "Because I want to fly, Vassili. I want to touch the sky and the stars like you people do." He gave me a bewildered look, his mouth partly opened like a fish out of water, then his shoulders sagged. "You're pulling my leg." He paused, as if he expected me to deny the statement, but I merely smiled at him. "Anyway," he sighed, "that's not likely to happen. Not with us. You're brilliant, but also dangerous. We'd never hire you. If these were peaceful times, I'd say you might have a chance with a private spaceliner, but--" "I never said I wanted to fly for you," I snorted, cutting him off. "I know what's lurking behind Star Ride, Vassili." I grinned at him. "And you know I know." He started to leave, and I called after him, "I'm not a schoolkid you lured here with gross promises of glory and pompous speeches on patriotism. You people should pull a tight rein on the folks who do your ads on the network. They lack in subtlety." Short laughter resounded in the air. "Why should we bother? It's not as if anyone was going to hear anything different on any of the channels, news or otherwise." With that, he went away. In the now empty corridor, the bitter words echoed on. I reached out, softly, gently, and touched the shredded sincerity, the torn truth that hurt and ate at the heart of a man who had given me time and more patience and kindness than I deserved--no matter that there had been hidden motives behind his actions. Carefully I embraced the pain and willed the wounds on his spirit to heal. It wouldn't, couldn't last. Even now, reality was busy gnawing at him again, as it did for every living being in the universe. There simply was no remedy that could cure the sickness called life--none except death. There were enough people dying as it was. More than enough. Suppressing those thoughts, I pivoted and started back toward the locker room It could have been considered weird for someone who was nothing other than a recruiting agent for the military to disagree with the way his hierarchy had chosen to attract young people their way, but I understood. With a grimace, I chased away the mental image of a fighter ship flying against the United Earth Corps's flag. Gross. You could hardly get less subtle and more nauseatingly dripping with patriotism than that--and yet it worked. Maybe it was indeed because every single news channel had sided with the United Earth government in the matter of the Mars uprising. The lack of dissonant voices in the news had felt strange at first, but there was a very good reason for that: the horror of the Mars terrorists' actions was such that there could only be one side to choose. Only one point of view which could be accepted--shown. This whole civil war was a bloody, unbearable mess. It had to end, no matter what. No matter how. It didn't take me long to change clothes. Taking a quick glance at the piloting suit stinking of military design, I smirked. The United Earth government really should be more subtle, but then as Vassili had told me, there was no need for them to be. The advertisement campaign was a success--a success that owed much to the contents of the news. That such unsophisticated tricks worked was in itself a distressing information, but it was true it was for a good cause. Who cared if just a bit of deception was used to lure young people to Star Ride and then embed them in the Mars Expeditionary Corps? I heaved out a sigh, remembering Vassili. Apparently not everyone was blind to this, and not everybody agreed. Yes, the whole thing was indeed a mess, and the more time passed, the more humanity seemed to entangle itself in that black web of war and death. With a small nod to myself, I folded the Star ride uniform and set it on an already huge pile of laundry. Then I exited the room, and left the great skyscraper of glittering glass that stood in the center of Athens like a beacon proclaiming to all that the people's defenders were present and close-by. In the waning light of dusk, it almost looked like a tower of stars. The thought brought a smile to my lips, then I turned away from the building and entered the subway station set just across the avenue. "Hey, man!" I gave an absentminded wave of the hand in the general direction of the shadow on my left, indicating that I wasn't interested, but still the rasp voice rose again in the air. "Just give it a try! It's Shooting Star, the purest brand you'll ever find!" I didn't slow down, ignoring the drug-dealer and focusing on the way ahead. The subway line didn't lead to the true borders of Athens; it stopped less than halfway from there, next to the old cargo airport. Beyond that point, people were on their own to cross through the less savory parts of the megalopolis--not that anyone in his right mind would have attempted such a crazy feat. I could have used other means of transportation to reach my destination, but stubbornly I kept returning to this place of dirt and poison--of decay and misery. It was important to do so, to know and be aware of this, the more so since I was most likely the only one to bother--that, and strangely enough there were precious pockets of warmth and humanity in this hellish junkyard. Places where people gathered and talked. Argued. Smiled. Places where they were there for one another. Where they tried to grasp the strength to face the following day. "Ya, Cendre! Come in!" I stopped and turned to the left. The lights of the Mad Cat were flashing a dull neon blue in the night. On the cafe's threshold, a woman was waving for me to enter. "Sorry, Elpida, but I'm just passing through tonight. Next time for sure!" I told her with an apologetic smile. There was a loud, dramatic sigh coming from her, then: "Ah well, that's too bad." An impish grin split her face, all of a sudden. "Just the evening we have a new employee, and her head already full of stories about you and your impossibly beautiful hair! She'd have been so happy to meet the real thing!" "You--" I stammered, "look here, I--" "Are you sure you're not coming?" Pursing her lips, she added, "That braid was poorly done. I'm sure you tried to do it yourself. I'm telling you, what you need is a woman's touch, and we sure have plenty of that inside!" A joyful flame of laughter was dancing in her eyes. "Tempting, but no," I chuckled. "Not tonight. Take care, Elpida." With that, I started on my way again, and left the welcoming haven of the Mad Cat behind me. It was true that I usually was glad for their fussing over my hair; it was far too long for comfort. Hair that spilled down my back and fell to almost reach my knees, ridiculously long and impossible to manage or to move with for anyone but me. I should cut it, now. It had served its purpose and it was no longer useful, but the small bit of concentration it demanded at all times was a good way to keep myself on edge. It had been an extremely efficient and unexpected training tool for years, and she had loved it--she who had shaped me. Master Atalante. The reek of decay abruptly filled the air, borne by a western breeze that took in my hair. With a grimace, I fought to discard the nauseating stench that came from the remains of the Piraeus. The once proud harbor had stopped all activities many years ago, and it had become a ghostly place where ships were left to rot --giant tankers, some with still live substances spilling out of their rust-devoured holds, invading the waters and reaching out to the poorer suburbs of Athens. It hadn't taken long for the consequences of that pollution to take roots in the population. Sickness was rampant among people: lungs and blood rotted away. The number of kids choked to death by asthma was rising each year, but those news never made it to the network. The war was killing Mars, and it was killing Earth as well. I scowled as unruly locks of hair invaded my face, obscuring my vision and tickling the edge of my nose for a fraction of a second, then I chased them away. With a wry smile, I admitted to myself that Elpida had been right: my braid was indeed poorly done if such a small gust of wind could pull some hair out of it. Out of habit, I reached up and behind my back to the level of my shoulderblades, allowing the fingertips of my left hand to brush against the rough rectangle of raw silk I used to bind the braid once it was done. Strange, it seemed to be quite secure. I must have made some other mistake. Ah well, perhaps I'd manage to get Shiva to do it for me, and once more explain in detail how it was done. This was perhaps the one failure in Master Atalante's teachings: she had enjoyed braiding my hair far too much, and thus she hadn't left me with many opportunities to learn to do it myself. I gave a slow shake of my head and blinked, blinded by a sudden flash of purple neon light. Shielding my eyes with my right hand, I looked up toward the high spires of Athens' false heart, and felt a smile twist my lips at the sight of the gigantic holographic ad which had been projected into the nightsky so it could be seen from even the remotest suburbs. "Looking For Adventure?" it proclaimed, "Silver Eclipse Is Recruiting! Fly to Mars, and Get a Premium Medicare Contract Too! Up to 30% Refund on One Full Medical Prescription Each Month! You Won't Find a Better Opportunity! (50% decrease of refund per extra prescription--contract will be terminated if a total of fifteen prescriptions is reached within a year, if employee develops a chronic illness or if employee reports more than five sick days per year--genetic scan must be passed prior to acceptation)" No, I guessed that no better opportunity could be found, and that thought made me want to laugh and puke at the same time. No cover if the employee developed a chronic illness when they were hiring people to work in Silver Eclipse's uranium mines? Yeah, right. There was a loud clang, very close. I froze. That hadn't been a stray dog disturbing the garbage. Just as I turned my attention toward the source of that noise, I felt it twirl in the air. Fear. Muffled. Pain. Fury, blind and deaf. And a thin, bone-gnarled hand reaching out from the depths of the Piraeus. On impulse, I ran toward the alley some thirty steps to my right. It wasn't my business. Whatever was happening was none of my concern, I knew that--but so were the war and the festering wound of decay and poverty that had embraced humanity. I refused that. I stopped as I came in sight of a group of a dozen people. It was the gang of the Piraeus Knights. Most of them were descendants of the dockers' families who had been dumped by the authorities in the same time as the great harbor--free to fend for themselves and be successful in their change of lives if they were courageous and deserving, as Athens' governor had put it, which really meant that they had been left to rot with the giant facility, to wither and disappear among the toxic and radioactive waste abandoned in the gulf of Attika. I stared at the ships with shredded sails sewn in the back of their jackets, and wondered what the hell was going on. They were rogues, thieves who sometimes planned daring raids into the outskirts of Athens' rich center, but murder wasn't their way. That, and the whiff of death I had caught in the night just now didn't add up. Muddy stains. There, between two rows of boxes--spoiled carrots and onions by the smell of them. Two people huddling against the wall. Battered. Bleeding. As I focused on them, I saw the lightlessness in their eyes, a dull flame that meant despair and exhaustion. In the same time, two of the Piraeus Knights purposefully stepped toward those poor bastards, hands clenched over nasty-looking metal poles. No way. Not on my watch. "Whatever those poor devils have done, don't you think you've punished them enough?" I asked quietly even as I entered the alley. At once, everything froze. Tension flooded the air as the sound of my voice cleaved through the murderous folly that had drowned the night until now, as I dispersed it and coaxed it to refocus on me. Slowly, five of the gang turned to confront me. "What's it to you, pretty face?" one of them smirked, contempt twisting the lines of his face. "What if we're not done? Want to try and stop us from giving those scum what they deserve?" He made to come toward me, but in the same time another laid a restraining hand on his right hand. "Wait, Niko. That guy is Cendre--" "Is that right?!" said Niko scoffed, looking straight at me. Challenging. "The Paladin of the Outcasts himself, hey?" His eyes narrowed and he spat to the ground at my feet. "Get lost, man. This is none of your business. These filthy aliens don't belong here, and we're taking care of the clean-up." In a slow, deliberate motion, he turned his back on me and reached inside his jacket. A gun. "No," I said softly. "Nothing can justify taking a life. I can't let you do that." As if he hadn't heard me, the man lifted his right hand and took aim. In front of him, the two pitiful shadows didn't even try to move or flee. They didn't even beg for their lives. With the same dull, lightless gaze, they stared at the muzzle of the gun and waited in silence. Then the man named Niko fired. A tiny fraction of a second before the detonation thundered in the air, glass exploded in a shower of sparks from a high window of a hangar some twenty steps to the right. Niko cursed, and fired again. And again. "Have you had enough now?" I asked, looking at the hangar's windows--all of them shattered. As the man once more raised his weapon, I heaved out a sigh. "Well, I have." I focused on him, and when he pulled the trigger, I concluded, "This game is over." The shrill sound of voices crying out in fear mixed with thunder as the gun blew up in Niko's hand. On a whim, I willed the myriad of gun pieces to shape a ring around the Piraeus Knight and held them in the air at the level of his eyes for a score of heartbeats before releasing them. Niko and four others whirled around. Slow. Sluggish. With a feral smile, I moved. "Now, *you* get lost," I whispered in Niko's ear, the palm of my right hand laid against his throat, thumb and forefinger lightly resting over the carotids. Eyes very, very wide, he stared at me. A shiver went through him, and he jerked aside. Then he ran, the others following after him. This little feat of mine would likely soon reach the ears of most people in the suburb, and it'd go grow that stupid paladin legend. Well, I supposed there was no harm in it: it wasn't as if anyone outside of the shantytown would ever hear of it. None of the powerful knew of the life here--none of them so much as cared. To them, nothing of this existed. Refocusing on the reality of my surroundings, I strode over to the side of the two people still huddling against the wall. Young. One of them was perhaps eighteen, and the other was a boy. So young, to already have life torn out of their eyes. "It's over now, you're safe," I told them as gently as I could .They winced when I held out a hand to help them get up, and I waited, unmoving. Eventually the eldest reached out and took my hand without a word. I pulled, lifting him up. Deimos. When he stepped out of the boxes and out of the hangar's shadow to stand in the bleak moonlight, I saw it through the wide rends in his filthy shirt's left shoulder--the tattoo that marked him as one of the workers who'd been a part of the illegal strikes and the many sabotages perpetrated in the Martian mines. "Fuck you!" I snarled, taking a step back. "I should have left you to them!" Raw anger had surged in the wake of my discovery of the two young men's identity, obscuring my judgement and dangerously close to overwhelming me. Shit! Assassins. Terrorists. Fugitives. Thieves. "How did you manage to cross? How did you win through Earth and Mars security?" No answer followed my furious questions, but I hadn't expected any. My lips twisted in a smile, I focused on them. The one standing before me spread his arms wide in a warding gesture. Protecting the boy behind him. He.... I stopped, a hair's width away from wreaking a terrible act that was tantamount to anathema. Releasing air from my lungs in a hiss, I willed the anger away. They were nothing but two young fools lost in a world not their own, almost still children, and I had no right to rip through their minds in order to get the knowledge they refused to give me. No matter what, I had no right to kill. None. Never. "Damn Marsees!" I spat with a brusque shake of my head. "How can you be so stupid? How dare you come to our world and steal what small resources and work left to us since the day you decided to cut away form us?" Again, there was no answer. The eldest kept looking straight at me with those same lifeless eyes. Silent. Eventually I whirled around, and hissed between clenched teeth, "I saved your worthless hides this time, but that won't happen again. You're fair game for everyone here. You don't belong. The Piraeus Knights were right. Leave, go get killed somewhere else. Athens will never embrace you." Then I left the alley, refusing to look back--refusing to remember the terrible despair in those eyes. The pain. The loneliness. The grief. I didn't care. They were scum, thieves who came from Mars colony and offered their services for ridiculously low fares, in effect stealing what small job opportunities that were left from the people they belonged to. They were a sickness spreading everywhere, but it was the first time that I had seen any here. Until now, Brussels' spaceport had always been secure, but--they couldn't have come from anywhere else. I closed my eyes and dragged in a breath. It didn't really matter. The scraggy hand that had reached out from the rotten heart of the Piraeus was still hovering in the air. Poised. The two fugitives were going to die. Today, tomorrow, the day after that--eventually some gang or other would corner them the way the Piraeus Knights had, and they'd get rid of them. It was the way of things since the beginning of the Mars uprising. Precious ore supplies had dwindled to almost nothing, and all of Earth's resources had gone to the war effort. Transporter companies' profit had skyrocketed, as had that of the merchants who had been cunning and ruthless enough to negotiate unbreakable contracts with the spacetrain owners. Them, and of course the weapons dealers. The wealthy and powerful had grown even wealthier and more powerful. The worker class had disintegrated, and the middle-class was close to implosion. Within the space of five years of rebellion, the Mars colonists had brought the whole human society on the verge of collapse. They wanted independence, they wanted to be free of unfair Earth-dictated taxes and trade agreements that choked them almost to death--or so they claimed. What I knew was that those oh-so-noble freedom-fighters resorted to blind acts of terrorism, bombing Earth-owned mines away and killing thousands of workers, using civilians to ambush the military. And the descendants of the first families who had settled on the red planet held a power so great that they had the United Earth government by its mighty throat. If the Martian mines were to disappear altogether.... The Earth had been sucked dry of its metal and energy resources long ago. Uranium mines would run out within twenty or fifty years at most. It was too late to regret human insanity and greed. There was only one thing to do: tap into the resources of the one world within our reach other than the moon. The size of the shantytown surrounding Athens had tripled within the last eight months. It had multiplied a dozen times in the last five years. It was the same everywhere on the planet. Humanity was falling. We had to have peace. If the United Earth government couldn't see it, if the Martian Mafia couldn't see it, then it was time to step in. Gabriel had to realize that. He had to understand. With a firm nod to myself, I stepped out of the human world. In my mind's eye, the lightless gaze of the two young Martian refugees lingered. "No", I said with a gentle smile as I patted the golden case, "not this time, but thank you." Leaving my Gold Cloth behind, I drew in a deep breath, and exited the House of Aries. Athena's curtain was firmly drawn upon the Sanctuary, preventing anyone from reaching the Goddess' altar other than by climbing up the Great Stairs and going through the twelve Houses. The Taurus temple was open to me, and I stepped to its exit with a single thought, unable to refrain from grimacing as I looked up to the third House. Gemini was closed to me--had been for as long as I could remember, just as it was for Shiva and Taka. Rumor had it it was so even for Raziel herself, but that it'd allow Gabriel through. Why it was so, I didn't know. The Gemini Saint was the Sanctuary's most closely guarded mystery. I had never seen him. Indeed, I'd have said he didn't exist at all, if master Atalante hadn't once hinted that he was very much real. From here, I'd have to walk all the way up to the temple of Athena, and the sun was already low on the horizon. It took me the better part of an hour to reach the last House. I hadn't met anyone on the way, which might mean that both Taka and Raziel would attend the council meeting. That in itself would be a small, unexpected miracle. Whiff of perfume. Entrancing. Unbidden, a smile came to my lips and I said, "Thanks for waiting, Shiva." Musical laughter answered me, as pure as crystal. "You're the only one who felt my presence. Taka stormed through me House without even sparing a thought toward me." A gentle breeze blew a few rose petals my way and I reached out to them, catching one between thumb between thumb and forefinger then bringing it to my nostrils. You should beware," I told him with a grin while I breathed in the delicate scent, "this is potent stuff. In Athens, they'd call you a drug-dealer and sentence you to prison." "They'd try." Out of nowhere, a lean, lithe shape materialized itself next to me. Shiva's grey eyes were alight with mischief. "It wouldn't sell, you know," he added in a confiding voice, "I envisioned the possibility, but all that people are interested in nowadays is stuff that burns their time and life away, speeding things so fast that they feel like gods who can do anything at anytime. A stupid delusion if you ask me," he sighed. "They don't care about sleep or bliss, about this slow fading of the senses that feels as if the spirit was flying to the heavens. They don't know what they're missing," he concluded with a fatalistic shrug. Pisces Shiva, a would-be drug-dealer. Indeed. "So, I'm a person with good taste, then?" There was a derisive snort. "You," he tapped the edge of his right forefinger against my brow, "were an insufferable adolescent cursed with a terrible sense of danger and gifted with the kind of luck only madmen or innocents possess." Then he stepped back, and shook his head. "But enough reminiscing. The sun has set, we'd better go. Taka will be seething with righteous outrage by the time we get there." He eyes me critically. "Didn't you forget something?" I gave him a look. "I doubt that the glorious sight of the Aries Cloth would sway Gabriel or seduce Taka--not to mention Raziel." Shiva rolled his eyes heavenward. Then, sobering, he said, "I doubt Virgo will be there, you know." "We'll see," I whispered back. "Thanks." He nodded at me, and started toward the exit of the Pisces temple. "It doesn't matter that you're crazy and that what you're aiming for is even more insane than you are. As your friend, it's only natural that I stand by you and support you. It must take truly reckless optimism and stubbornness to attempt leading Gabriel to change the Sanctuary's millennia-old policy within the rules," he mused, his back to me. I didn't reply, closing my eyes for the time of a heartbeat. Breathing in. Focusing on the life pulsing all around me. "But don't stray from that path, Cendre. Ever. I'm a Saint of Athena, and I'll follow where Gabriel leads--as we all must." I refused the impulse to stop in my steps when the soft, almost inaudible whisper reached my ears. I shivered as cold, glistening scales coiled up to my spine, and followed after Pisces Shiva. The closest and dearest friend I had ever had. Outside, the sun had set. Cursing under my breath, I shrugged off propriety and willed myself to be inside the temple of Athena. Laughter followed in my wake, borne by the blazing flames of cosmo, and when I materialized in front of the great double doors leading to the council chamber, I found Shiva nonchalantly leaning back against the wall beside them. "Teleportation is overrated," he grinned at me, "especially over such small distances." "Pfeh." I grimaced, then faced the imposing door. "Nice try," I murmured as I laid both hands on the wood and pushed. Yes, it had been an amusing attempt at dispersing some of the stress poisoning my system, but the muscles in my body were still taunt, the tension within refusing to relax its hold on me. With a faint creaking noise, the doors yielded and I went in, going along with their movement. Two. I clenched my teeth when I saw Gabriel and Taka sitting at the table of marble. Raziel wasn't there. Steady, I willed myself as I stepped inside the room and summoned a smile to my lips. Leo Taka was fidgeting, a deep scowl marring the simple beauty of her features. I was late, and she was in a bad mood. As I nodded at her and Gabriel, I refrained from sighing out loud. She had scant patience where I was concerned, and the reverse was true as well. On a whim, I called four glasses of pure spring water, saying even as I sat down, "Sorry to be late." Gabriel reached for the glass set before him and brought it to his lips. "Straight from the Vikos gorge," he smiled after taking a sip. "Thank you." The utterly black eyes of the Libra gold Saint, representative of the Goddess and head of our order set on me. "Since you were the one who requested this meeting, I'll let you state what prompted you to do this." Four. The number echoed in my mind while I bowed my head. We were four, not Six. It meant that only two third of the Gold Saints alive in this present time had condescended to listen to whatever I had to say. Fighting back the sag in my shoulders, I faced my peers. "We must step out of the Sanctuary and go into the world." There was a sharp intake of breath, coming from Taka, but Gabriel didn't react to my outrageous introduction. "I've been watching for years. I've walked the human cities, I've touched and talked to people, and there's no denying it: humanity is falling. It's trapped in a spiral of war and poverty, rejection, and there's no way for them to win free." "No way that you see," Taka cut in with a snort. "If you deigned take the time to leave your golden shelter," I hissed, focusing on her, "if you dared walk into the world as I have, then you'd know there's no hope left. No alternative," I hammered the word. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, I stepped to the far edge of the room, and then turned to confront them all. Shiva was watching me, a smile hovering on his lips. Taka's hands were closed into tight fists, the fire in her eyes a dangerous one. Gabriel's dark gaze was set on me, unfathomable. "What Taka said is true," I gave her a mocking bow and went on, "all I'm telling you is based on what I saw. What I felt. What I know to be the truth. Over five years, no efforts of peace have lived for more than a week. The war between the United Earth government and the Martian rebels keeps escalating, killing thousands of innocents. But that war and the despicable terrorist actions of Mars' so-called freedom-fighters are nothing." For the time of a heartbeat, I closed my eyes. "Consequences," I told them in a very quiet voice, "it's the consequences that matter. Because of the war, civilian traffic between Earth and Mars has all but stopped. The giant spacetrains have virtually vanished from the sky. What this means is that energy supplies and materials delivery have dwindled to less than one percent of what it should be. Companies have fallen into bankruptcy--all but the major ones with close ties to the United Earth government and the military. Billions of people lost their jobs. Billions," I repeated softly. They didn't understand what that meant, I knew it without even looking at them. They had no idea. A smile curled up my lips as I explained, "Since the old Prosperity Act that stated the end of the need for a state-funded social security system based on a redistribution of every citizen's riches, and that 'allowed' people to at last manage their lives as they saw fit, the system fell back upon global insurance companies--profit-based entities, of course. There was no way for those corporations to absorb the shock of the economical collapse's backlash: within a month, they vanished from the network, along with all the pathetic savings and safety nets of everyone." I started when I saw Shiva badly stifle a yawn. Boring, that was what he meant. Not a good idea to talk about bad, serious and complicated stuff instead of playing the movie star to charm and captivate the audience in a political show. My ratings were dropping rapidly. Hell, I knew. It was tedious and uninteresting, but--I blinked, and stepped back to the table. "All those people, they have nothing left," I told them, the tone of my voice intent. I laid my hands flat on the marble. "No protection, no homes, no jobs, no life. They're billions, and they've stopped existing, just like that!" I clapped the fingers of my right hand. "Because of the despicable lie called the Prosperity Act--because it states that well-being is directly tied to courage and dedication, and that wealth will flow in a natural fashion to all those who deserve it, thus turning the poor and jobless into outcasts, worthless derelicts who chose to drop out of the system even though it's the system that dumped them like garbage! Filthy manipulation which served none other than the oligarchs leading the global merchant and transporter corporations!" I spat, and released air from my lungs in a hiss. "The system has simply erased most of humanity from its statistics. It's gone mad." "A system developed by them," Gabriel remarked, apparently unmoved. "Yes." I bowed my head, staring fixedly at the stone beneath my feet. I knew that my words couldn't compete with the latest flicks online and their tales of glamour and mystery, and their precisely studied balance of action, romance, comedy and tragedy, their too perfect, too cliche and too-beautiful-to-be-true characters that were sure to make the top of the prime time ratings. Mine was a tale of grime and waste and failure--of despair and ashes with no hint of the mandatory happy end in sight. "They're dying, Gabriel," I whispered. "They're cast out, left to live in unwholesome shantytowns next to contaminated sites. The sickness that poisons those places--" I shook my head. "They're drowning in chaos. The shortage in supplies coming from Mars means that the small caste of the powerful snatches everything for itself, leaving nothing for its population. The system is collapsing, all of it. And if we don't intervene, it'll take humanity with it when it falls." "So you say," Gabriel sighed. I looked him right in the eyes. "It has gone *mad*. The war is feeding itself off of people who have no power to stop it. The only way out for them is the military--it's the rage and hatred nurtured by the catalog of death skillfully detailed in the news, and the despair festering in their hearts. And yet some of them try--" I dragged in a shuddering breath, fighting to ignore the lump in my throat. "Some of them try so hard to protect precious sparks of warmth and friendship, even though they know they're doomed to fail in the end. What's the meaning of our existence if we can't protect them, Gabriel?" Beyond the Libra Saint, I got a glimpse of Taka. Her dark blue gaze was clouded. "They're dying. I feel it in the stench of the air they breathe and in the exhaustion rotting their hearts away. We can end this war in an instant, Gabriel. We just need to choose to do so," I finished in a whisper. Silence followed my words, heavy and uneasy. Endless. "And what then?" I gave Gabriel a blank look, uncomprehending. A crooked smile came to his lips as he added, "What do we do, once we've stopped their war?" "I--" I sat down on the chair next to me, and leaned back against it, focusing on its cold seeping into my body. "I don't know." I expected Taka to laugh at me, then, but she didn't. In a slow motion, the Leo Gold Saint looked away from me, pity and sorrow warring in her eyes. "It's true we're the protectors of humanity", Gabriel said gently, "but we stand here to defend it against divine interference. Our enemies are Poseidon and Hades, when they choose to rise against it. When it comes to humankind's own terrible mistakes, to its wars and its crimes against its own, Athena's edict has always been clear: they're free, and they must remain so. They must learn and grow by themselves, otherwise they'll never achieve anything true or stable. If they must destroy themselves and butcher the world they live in, so be it." I couldn't see my reflection in Gabriel's eyes. They were blacker than the night. Frightening. Cold. Terrible. "But," he added, a smile softening his expression somewhat, "as long as there remains people with hearts generous and strong enough to reach out to each other, to rebuild lives and share love in spite of everything, then the possibility for hope exists. It's them that we guard against forces they cannot comprehend. This is our appointed task, and we will not step away from it." He wouldn't move. He--"But we intervened in the past!" I heard myself say, anger bristling in the tone of my voice. "In the time of the Roman Empire, against the hordes descending from Mongolia or against the Spanish conquistadors, yes. Mistakes though they were, those interventions took place." Bitterness seeped into Gabriel's voice when he added, "It didn't unmake or prevent the massacres or the genocides, though." With a shake of his head, he waved the past away. "And, in those times, human beings believed in gods, magic and miracles. They came up with easy explanations for what they couldn't understand. If we were to step in and bring the Earth-Mars war to an end, we wouldn't be able to take advantage of that. We would be noticed. We would change everything. Don't you see, Cendre?" he asked, his tone low and intent. "We are power. When we move, we draw the tide of Destiny with us. A small step would disrupt the course of their lives forever. We'd change their future. We cannot act as we long to, because we bring about irremediable consequences. We would break the balance of human lives. We cannot appear, because the imprint of our presence would mark them and scar them. They wouldn't be free anymore. We'd have to lead them--we'd have to become those we have fought since the dawn of times." "Then you'd rather let them die than take the risk of revealing our precious existence?!" "Yes." Gabriel's gaze never wavered. "Damn you!" I snarled, standing up and kicking my chair away. "You don't know anything!" Fire. Cosmo blazing. "That's enough, Cendre!" Taka had also risen from her seat. She had called the Leo Gold Cloth to her. During a long, awful moment, we stared at each other. Then hoarse, broken laughter escaped me. "So, that's how it is!" I grinned at her in defiance. "The truth comes out, Taka. You believe I'd rise against Gabriel, that I'd lay hands on the head of our order here, in the temple of Athena itself. The Sanctuary has never accepted me--looks like it never will. In your eyes, I'm not a true Gold Saint, am I?" Without waiting for an answer, I turned toward Gabriel, and told him between clenched teeth: "If you knew what I know, if you felt what I feel, if you reached out to humanity, you'd understand that your decision is tantamount to genocide. I can't accept it. I can never accept to stand by and watch them all sink into the dark." The Goddess' representative on Earth stood as well, and retorted calmly, "It doesn't matter that you accept my decisions, Cendre, only that you obey them. This meeting is ended." I didn't react when Shiva gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder on his way out. I stood there, unmoving, unseeing, until the great room was empty. Tomorrow I'd go back to Athens. I'd drop by the Mad Cat. I'd chat with Elpida and the girls. I'd lend a hand in one small matter or other. Insignificant. I'd feel the bone-gnarled hand closing over the megalopolis in an agonizingly slow, unstoppable fashion. I wouldn't look up to the sky that it would mask. I wouldn't rise when it reaped the life out of them all. "Cendre." I whirled around, jerking my head up to face the source of that voice, the mad drums of my heart so loud that they must echo through the whole Sanctuary. Gabriel was looking at me, worry and sadness plain in his eyes this time. Before I could say anything, he stepped beyond me and went to the closest candelabra. Carefully, he brought his left hand to the flame's level and blew the light out. With the same calm deliberation, he extinguished all the lights in the council room, allowing the pale moonlight to flood the chamber and mingle with the darkness. "It hurts," he said as he came toward me. "I know. I don't have your powers, but I can feel the blade I drove through your soul." For a few seconds, he looked away, then he locked his gaze with mine. "There's no other way--not in the absence of Athena. We're teetering on the brink of destruction ourselves. The balance is failing. We cannot reveal ourselves and lead humanity on a path we believe would be best for them. Oh, we'd be sincere and true, but what would we do when some decided to choose another path than the one we indicated? We're Athena's Saints--not gods. We have no right to do this, Cendre. It would be horribly wrong. We'd defile our very essence and reason for being." "Maybe," I heard myself reply in a toneless whisper, "but isn't that better than to let them go to their deaths without even reaching out to them? We'll follow them." A bitter smile twisted the corners of my lips. "We'll follow them, you know," I repeated. "Once they've faded into the night, we'll fall as well." Pivoting away from him, I looked out the closest window, and let out a short burst of laughter that sounded more like a croak and tasted of iron. "I make a truly poor Gold Saint, don't I?" I shivered as he laid a hand on my left shoulder. "You're Gold, Cendre, no matter who thinks what. You're Aries, there's no denying it. I stood by Atalante's decision and I stand by it still. You're Gold, that's the bottom line. There's no coming back from the oath you swore. There's no undoing the ties binding you to Athena." His fingers' pressure on my shoulder grew, then he released me and went away. Around me, silence reclaimed dominion over the council room. Silence, and the darkness of night. Ghosts of shadows came into being next to rocks and broken column pieces as the sky paled before me. Dawn was coming, and it would be grey. Colorless. Unerringly, I stepped between stones and crosses to stop before a tomb set at the eastern edge of the Sanctuary's cemetery. It didn't have a cross contrary to most, it had just a simple rectangular funeral stone with a name carved in it: Atalante. I heaved out a sigh as I squatted down beside it and bowed my head. "I'm lost," I told the rising sun softly. Reaching out, I laid the palm of my hand against the rocky ground and pushed, wishing that I cold sink into the earth. It was ludicrous. It was insane--I was insane. I had know beforehand how Gabriel wold react. How he *must* react. Puppets dancing at the edges of their strings. I couldn't deal with this. The last night's meeting had left me bereft of purpose. They were withdrawn; they lived apart from the world. Aloof. Even if it hurt them, they could step aside and seal the fate of humanity within the space of a single evening. In a way, I envied them their ability. But I was a part of the world, I couldn't win free from the stream of human life. I touched them when I closed my eyes, when I dreamed, and every time I breathed. There was no entangling myself from them, as master Atalante had warned me when she had started teaching the scrawny kid she had taken away from a toxic dump on the outskirts of Berlin. The child of nameless outcasts. Not hers. Not her kin. The Aries Saints had all come from the same line, all but me. They had been descendants of the inhabitants of the lost continent of Mu. Human and then not, they were the only ones gifted with the strange ability to shape and heal the Cloths the Saints of Athena wore. They had an innate talent for telepathy and telekinesis. They were beautiful and strong--proud. They lived long lives, much longer than was considered normal for a human being. They were powerful and wise, calm and serene--sure of their beliefs. I was the opposite. Many had discussed master Atalante's choice of an heir, but she had stubbornly refused to listen. She had stood by me; she had protected me when training sessions had become so hard and harsh that they had come within a heartbeat of burning the life out of me. In the end, the Aries Gold Cloth had judged, as she had always claimed it would. It had weighed me, touched me in ways no words could ever describe, invading my heart and my soul and depriving me of any place to hide from it. Clawing at the walls I had raised against it on instinct. When it had broken every defense, it had embraced me. Instead of killing me, it had accepted me. Then master Atalante had smiled at Gabriel. A beautiful, secret smile full of light, pride and sorrow. He had reached out to her, even as she had started to fade away. I had tried to hold her back. She had denied the both of us. She had waited too long already--waited until at last she could rest with the knowledge that another would take her place. One who could suffuse life and strength in the eerie alloy of stardust and orialchon that made the living beings called Cloths. Master Atalante had vanished from the Sanctuary in the blink of an eye, leaving it with no other choice than to hail me as the next Aries Gold Saint. How I wished she hadn't. I didn't have what it took. The alien serenity and strength--I didn't have them. The Sanctuary had been right: I was a poor substitute for her. Inadequate. "Ah. I knew you'd be here." A shadow touched mine just as the words reached my ears. "You always pick this place when you feel like wallowing in self-pity." There was no mistaking the sharp, mocking edge in Shiva's voice. He wouldn't go away, even if I ignored him, so I stood up and faced him. "Enough moping for today?" he smirked. "Enough of you, that's for sure," I retorted amiably. "If there were two of you, I'd have to convince Gabriel of the use for a ritual sacrifice of the Pisces Saint." He scoffed at that. "Well, if you're as brilliant as you were last night, I don't have much to fear!" I blinked, barely mastering to impulse to jerk back. Then I forced a smile to my lips and unclenched my fists. "No," I told him in a whisper. "That bait is a bit too unsubtle for me to bite." In the same time, I focused the tiniest fraction of my awareness toward the close-by Aegean sea, and seaweed abruptly fell from the sky upon Shiva's head, drenching him and making the elegant, gorgeous Pisces Saint look absolutely ridiculous. "But thank you for trying." "Cendre!" He flailed about wildly, blinded by the stuff. "Shit!" I watched him in silence during the long minute it took him to free himself from the tangled net of seaweed and somewhat clean his usually glossy black hair. When he threw me a withering glance, I grinned at him. "I don't belong, Shiva." For the time of a heartbeat, he stared at me, then he reached out, quick as a snake, and grasped my braid, giving it a sharp tug that unbalanced me. "Stupid!" he growled. "You're a fool, Cendre. You're back at that 'I'm not a descendant of Mu' nonsense, are you?" Without waiting for an answer, he went on with a very loud sigh, "I swear, on your deathbed you'll still be whining about that." He gave another tug, so strong that it made me stumble, then he released me with a derisive snort. I turned on my heels, unable to find a suitable response--unable to sustain the look in those liquid grey eyes. "That braid is once again more than badly done," he said softly at my back. "When you're done being an idiot, drop by my House, and I'll redo it for you." I waited, blinking back the senseless feeling of burn in my eyes, until the perception of his cosmo was completely gone from the place. Then I faced the way he had gone, and took a long look at the Great Stairs leading through the twelve Houses to the temple of Athena. It was mad. Everything was. A sudden gust of wind pushed me forward, and on instinct I went along with it, taking a step away from the empty grave of the formidable woman who had been my sister, my teacher and my friend. I reached the edge of the Sacred Domain around midday. I had been stopped by several Bronze Saints asking me to repair their damaged Cloths, and even a Silver Saint. Small scratches to mend, but still it had taken time. If I walked, I wouldn't reach Athens before sunset. "You're leaving." I stared at the woman who had appeared on my right, but didn't reply. Hers had been the statement of a fact, not a question. "I know the truth and gravity of what you had to say. Justice and balance are too fragile--too complex to be touched. And power lends weight to actions and words. It opens holes in the fabric of Time and Destiny. I couldn't attend the council, not without altering the tide of events. There's no discarding or denying the reality you painted, or the treacherous snare waiting to close its jaws upon us. I want you to know that I heard your voice, Aries," she smiled at me, "and that I'm sorry." With a nod, Virgo Raziel turned around and went back along the valley leading to the lower levels of the Sanctuary. I didn't look back. Puppets on a string, indeed. Laughing, I set on my way again. The girls at the Mad Cat knew how to dance. Perhaps they'd be willing to teach me.
End of Chapter 1.
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