LAST TIME ON SAILORMOON: CLARITY:  Xin was discovered as the keeper of the Wind Seed's location.  The Mana Senshi tried to protect him from the Black Moon, but they failed miserably, and Nemesis took the seed (from Sylphid's stomach, no less).  Meanwhile, Assyrius and Celina's relationship took another destructive turn, while Peripetaia and Pathos got to know each other a little better.  Or, rather, Pathos discussed some of his traygyic history while Peripetaia drank sweet tea.

Kaitlyn slumped in her chair, thinking of yesterday’s resounding defeat.  Self-doubt wriggled in her brain like a worm, slip-sliding into every thought of herself as a soldier.  Because, as a soldier, she was useless.  Her involvement in battles meant nothing.  Their victories were incidental to her participation. Possibly they were even in spite of it.

In high school, Kaitlyn joined numerous community service projects, but she lacked the organizational skills to lead anything.  Her grades were strictly mediocre.  She eschewed honors and advanced placement courses.  She received no accolades.

She had no business leading an old woman across the street, much less a team of superheroes.

“I’m sensing self-pitying thoughts,” Reve trotted into the kitchen and jumped onto the table.  He stretched lazily, his almond eyes closing in satisfaction as Kaitlyn scratched his back.

“Can you read my mind?”

“Not exactly,” Reve purred. “But I can sense how you’re feeling.”

“Empathy, huh?  I think I can do a bit of that.”

“You have lots of talents.”

“If you count staggering incompetence as a talent, then, I suppose so, yes.”

Reve bit her fingers gently, tickling. “Stop that.”

“Sorry,” she said, flicking his ear in retribution.

Someone knocked on her door.

“Oh, Jigoku,” she said, and undid the chain lock.  “How are you?”

“Good, I’m good,” he said. “Just wanted to stop by, see how you were doing.”

“Hanging in there,” Kaitlyn said.  She stepped aside from the threshold. “You wanna come in?  I’ll make some tea.”

Reve rolled around on the table, reaching his paws toward Kaitlyn and Jigoku as they passed.  Jigoku massaged his belly obligingly.  “Hey, kitty.”

“Hey,” Reve said.

“You can sit on the sofa,” Kaitlyn set a teapot on the stove.

“How’s CK?” Jigoku said, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Napping,” Kaitlyn answered.  “She sleeps a lot.”

“She’s a growing girl.”

Kaitlyn sat next to him while she waited for the water to boil.  Reve jumped up, wriggling between them. “Maybe.”

“Eh?”

“Nothing—it’s just, she seems pretty mature already.  Especially for a seven year old.  For a thirty year old, even.”

“She is precocious.”

“It’s more than that.  I feel like she’s older than me.  The only childlike thing she does is sleep, actually.  I think she sleeps more than Reve, and he’s a cat.  Kind of.”

Reve purred at the mention of his name.

“She’s been here for weeks and I still don’t know hardly anything about her.”

“Do you want me to creep around?” Reve asked.

“Nah, don’t,” Kaitlyn said. “I’m sure she’ll tell me more when she’s ready.”

“She could be deceiving you,” Jigoku said. “You’re so trusting.”

“But I really don’t think she is,” Kaitlyn insisted.

“You don’t even have any solid proof that she’s your daughter.”

“She transformed into, like, mini-me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  But I’d still trust her, regardless.  When I look at her, I just know.”

“Maybe it’s a mother daughter thing,” Jigoku said, a little wistful.

“Could be,” Kaitlyn said, pretending not to notice. “It’s hard to believe she’s my daughter.  But… I dunno, I can’t explain it.”

“I don’t doubt you.  I just want you to be careful, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kaitlyn said. “But trust me on this one.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.  It’s everyone else.”

“Thanks for the confidence, seriously.  I’ve been feeling a little down.”

“What?  Why?  What’s the matter?” Jigoku leaned over, reaching his arm behind her back and holding her by the waist, executing an awkward hug.  She returned with an equally hasty embrace, and he let his arm rest by her neck, his fingers touching her shoulders lightly.  “Don’t be depressed.”

“It’s fine, really,” Kaitlyn pulled Reve onto her lap, burying her hands in his fur while he kneaded her jeans.  “Lately, though, I’ve been thinking, or wondering, like, if I’m right for this job.  Not necessarily being a soldier, but being the leader.  I’m not very good at it.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“I’m doing nothing.  I hardly even fight.”

“Kaitlyn, you were chosen.  If you weren’t right for it, you wouldn’t have been chosen.”

“I think fate made a mistake.”

“Fate would probably beg to differ,” Jigoku grumbled.

“Fine—if not a mistake, then a joke.  I was chosen because it’s funny when the idiot’s in charge.”

“Who would you have replace you?”

“That’s just it—any of them.  They’re all more capable than me, even Roan.  And she’s insane.”

“I can’t believe this,” Jigoku said.  “You are clearly mired in some rank sea of self-deprecation, as well as full of crap.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“My ass.”

Kaitlyn hugged Reve to her chest, squeezing him like a stuffed animal until he made a strangled noise.  She relaxed and apologized to him, but refused to meet Jigoku’s eyes.  “Don’t be mean to me.”

“I’m not being mean,” he groaned.  “You’re just being silly.  Who cares how often you fight?  You bring everyone together.  When you call, they answer.  When you talk, they listen.  That’s leadership.”

“I guess so…”

“As for you fighting or not fighting…you are a little pacifistic, yes, but your reluctance to act violently keeps everyone in check.  They follow your example.”

“Do you really think they respect me that much?”

Jigoku palmed his forehead. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Reve squirmed under Kaitlyn’s iron grip, his claws accidentally catching her jeans on the thigh.

“Ow!” Kaitlyn let him go, and he jumped onto the sofa’s arm, panting.

“Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t breathe.”

“Oops.  My bad.”

Reve curled up on the arm, lashing his tail. “Also, I agree with Jigoku.”

“Maybe y’all are right,” Kaitlyn conceded.  She hugged Jigoku again, this time with both arms. “Thanks.”

His arms encircled her tightly. “Hey, it’s my job.  I am still your guardian, y’know.”

While they embraced, Etienne walked in, opening the door after a quick knock.

“Uh, hey—” Etienne blinked. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Kaitlyn pulled away from Jigoku. “Jigoku was just giving me a pep talk.”

A scowl flickered across Etienne’s features. “Doesn’t look like there was much talking going on.”

Reve wound himself around Etienne’s ankles, leaving small bits of fur on his black jeans. “There was lots of talking.  Kaitlyn was having a self-esteem crisis.”

“I kinda still am,” Kaitlyn said. “But you really helped, Jigoku.”

“Why are you having a crisis, Kaitlyn?” Etienne said, almost tripping over Reve in his haste to reach the sofa and rescue her from Jigoku’s clutches.

“I’m just wondering why a sap like me is leading a superhero team.”

“Because everyone looks up to you and respects your judgment,” Etienne said, leaving the ‘duh’ unsaid out of kindness.

“That’s exactly what Jigoku told me.”

“Oh, is it?  I’ll have to think of something else, then.”

Jigoku rolled his eyes. “That might’ve been offensive, if it weren’t so lame.”

“Guys,” Kaitlyn said warningly, “I thought we moved past this.”

Omnes coalesced beside Jigoku, draping an arm around his neck. “You needn’t be jealous, Etienne.  Jigoku’s taken.  You might want to watch out for that Aegis fellow, though, I think he’s still carrying a torch.”

“Whatever,” Jigoku grumbled, forcefully throwing off Omnes.

“Aw, baby, don’t be like that.”

“Are you here for some necessary purpose?” Jigoku said.

“Besides assuring you of my love?” Omnes cooed. “No, not really.”

“I guess you don’t have any information on these Black Moon folks, huh?” Kaitlyn said.

“Sor-ry, can’t help you.”

“Oh, um, Omnes,” she said. “Why was I chosen to be leader?”

“I don’t know,” Omnes said. “I suppose I thought it would be vastly entertaining.  Might I add, my dear, that you don’t disappoint.”

Omnes turned back to Jigoku and said, “See you later, darling!” before fizzling out into ephemeral particles.

“Don’t listen to him,” Etienne said. “He’s a whore.”

“I’ll say,” Jigoku nodded.

On the stove, the tea kettle hissed.

“The tea!” Kaitlyn ran to turn off the fire.  She removed the kettle’s top and sniffed. “Oh, good, it’s fine.”

“I think it only just finished…” Jigoku said.

“Do you guys want tea?  Reve?  Tea?” she said, setting out the cups and saucers clumsily, so that they tumbled over and clinked together, rolling around the table.

“Look at this,” Jigoku said. “All my work, undone.”

A teacup, upset from its saucer by Kaitlyn’s bustling, edged towards an unfortunate end.

Reve slid underneath the table, raising a paw that morphed into a hand.  He caught the runaway cup and restored it to its saucer. “I’ll take tea.”

“I’m never gonna get used to you,” Etienne said. To Kaitlyn, he added, “C’mon, Kait, you know he was just looking for a reaction.”

Kaitlyn slumped in her chair. “Well, he got one.”

“Aw, Kait,” Etienne poured her and the others their tea.

“You do that nicely,” Jigoku said. “Have you ever considered geisha training?”

Etienne bowed demurely and Kaitlyn smiled.

“Hey, you smiled,” Jigoku said. “We win.”

“I’m sorry, y’all,” Kaitlyn said.  “I’m just afraid of leading the team to grisly deaths, or something like that.”

“A perfectly natural fear,” Jigoku said. “After all, it could happen.”

“Thanks.”

He shrugged. “You never know, do you?  So it’s useless to worry.”

“Easy for you to say,” Kaitlyn muttered. “You’re not the one doing the fighting.”

“No,” he agreed, and added pointedly, “But it’s not like I have nothing to lose.”

Kaitlyn swallowed audibly.

“That’s right,” Reve said, prompting Etienne to jump in with, “Hey, me too!”

“Except,” Etienne went on, “I can help, if you want.  I can still do stuff.”

He rubbed his chin. “Like, maybe I should get a tuxedo and a mask and start stalking you or something.”

“No, we can manage,” Kaitlyn laughed. “But that might be a good distraction tactic.”

“And now a laugh,” Etienne said. “Truly, victory is ours.”

He pushed back his chair and leaned over, kissing Kaitlyn’s cheek. “Which is good, ‘cause I’ve got work.”

To Jigoku and Reve he said, with an admirable measure of friendliness, “See you guys later.”

After he left, Jigoku said, “Are you really feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. “It’s all right.  Thanks again.”

Reve shifted back to a cat after Jigoku went home.  He laid down across Kaitlyn’s feet as she washed the teacups in silence.

Dreading the schoolday was normal for Celina.  Dreading it because her boyfriend had become a supervillain was a little new.

She managed to avoid him until lunch, when they inevitably met in the cafeteria.  He surprised her as she reached for a cookie.

“Hey, Lina,” he said.

She clutched the cookie, her nails sinking into the warm dough.  She wasn’t ready to see him yet.  Not now, not while he thought using the dark side of the force was an appropriate behavioral response.

Celina dropped the cookie onto her tray and faced forward, willing the line to move.  Instead it inched along, mocking her suffering.

“Are you giving me the silent treatment?” Assyrius said. “I don’t advise that, Celina.  I don’t like being ignored.”

Celina trembled, but she refused to speak or turn her head.  Anger radiated from Assyrius, pressing physically against Celina’s back.  He seethed behind her, until she reached the cash registers at last.  Nickels and dimes spilled out of her coin purse as she rummaged for a dollar and two quarters, wishing she had her money ready for once.

Assyrius handed the cashier three dollars and said, “I’ve got her.”

Terrified, Celina whispered, “Thank you,” then grabbed her tray and hurtled for Kaitlyn’s table so fast that her milk almost tumbled onto the tiles below.

“I can’t take this,” she moaned.

Assyrius passed by their table, glaring spiked flails.  Roan flipped him off.

“Someday we will burn him to ashes, my pet,” Roan said to Celina. “Then we shall spit upon those ashes and stamp them into the ground.”

“But that’s not what I want,” Celina said.

“It is fate,” Roan proclaimed.  She tore into her sandwich and spoke through vicious bites, “You can’t escape it.”

“Don’t talk like that, Roan,” Kaitlyn said.  She gave Celina a reassuring smile.  “We’ll do everything we can to get him back to normal.”

Something settled inside Celina, if momentarily.  She ate her cookie, further comforted by its chocolate and chewy bread.

The other girls began to talk of different things.  Celina focused on the hum of their voices, hoping to stem the terror roiling inside her, rising from a place she couldn’t reach.

It was Assyrius’s gentleness that had attracted her to him.  He was unassuming, guileless, thoughtful—the complete opposite of his bragging, obnoxious, hormonal peers.  Their noise made her nervous.  She hated to hear a man shout.

After lunch, Celina walked with the girls as much as she could, starting out with a full guard that broke apart as each girl found her next class.  The Art room was on the other side of campus, and she arrived alone.  She darted to her desk, and exhaled in relief.

But she couldn’t keep this up.  Eventually he would catch her, and then she didn’t know what she would do.

The teacher’s lecture didn’t even reach her ears.  She asked the student beside her for the assignment, and drew half-heartedly, not minding the lines of her pencil.  The bell rang and she put her drawing away, knowing she would have to start over next time.

Still, she managed to finish the day without seeing Assyrius again.  This was a miracle, since they always waited for their parents together and Assyrius was usually out there first, unless he had work to do in the lab after school.  Celina, feeling blessed, supposed it was one such day.

She collapsed into the backseat of her mother’s car.

“Are you okay, honey?” Diana said. “You’re pale.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine.”

But as she spoke, her body shuddered, and then continued to tremble as the car pulled away from the school.  It was as if the day’s stresses were pouring out, like water bursting from a dam.  By the time her mother parked in their garage, Celina was crying.

“Honey,” Diana said, embracing her daughter, “Honey, what’s wrong?  Why are you crying?”

Celina had the good sense to edit the story, leaving out the parts about Assyrius’s new ability to strangle people with ferns and her own powers of transforming into a very short skirt.  But the rest of it, the worst parts, she told.

Celina sobbed it out, describing Assyrius’s changes between great hiccups and gasps for breath.  Her mother helped her into the living room, and brought her tissues, chocolates, and milk.

“Has he hit you?” Diana said.

“N-not exactly,” Celina whispered.  She showed her mother the white marks on her belly and explained.

“Oh, Celina,” Diana said.  “My poor baby.”

“I don’t know what to do, Mama,” Celina cried, wiping her eyes.

Diana hugged her tightly. “I know what to do.  I’m calling the police.”

Abruptly, Celina stilled, like a piece of twitching wire pulled taut.  “No.  No, you can’t do that.”

“He’s hurting you,” Diana said. “It sounds like he’s stalking you, for God’s sake.”

“But, but…” How could she explain without revealing the whole truth?  She couldn’t imagine what Assyrius would do if her mother tried legal action.  She shivered.

“Mom,” she tried again, “you don’t understand, it’s more complicated than that.”

“I don’t need to know anything else.  He hurt you, Celina.  How could you accept that?”

“I’m not accepting it!” Celina said, wanting to cry again.  “You just, you don’t know, you don’t understand.”

“But I do, honey,” Diana said softly. “You know I do.”

“Can we talk about this later?” Celina sniffled. “I promise, I’ll tell you everything later.  I just wanna shower.”

Diana relented.  “All right.  Go on and clean up.”

Celina slunk up the stairs.  She stripped off her blouse, her skirt, her underwear.  She crawled into the shower, and as the water splashed her face she remembered.

One evening, when Celina was seven, her father left.  Celina had not seen him since then, and for that she was grateful.  She had thrown out every reminder of her father, though the scenes of shouting and blood remained embedded in her muscles.  They pushed against her veins now, penetrating the haze of her fruit and herb shampoo, popping the bubbles on her arms.

Her back slid against the wet wall tiles as she sank to the bottom of the shower, drawing her legs in close and hiding her head in her arms.  The water cascaded down the cocoon of her body, warm and soft like a liquid shell.

Finally she reached to turn off the faucet, but she remained in the stall, falling back with her arms around her knees.  The heat evaporated.  She shivered and wept.

How dare she ignore him.  How dare she.  Assyrius simmered, too preoccupied with his anger to pay attention to the meeting.  Harmatia jabbed his forearm with her thumb.

“What?” he snapped.

“You aren’t here,” she announced.  “I can see it in your eyes.  They are clouded with elsewheres.”

“Everything okay, Assyrius?” Amethyst was positioning her earring over the map.

“Fine,” he said.

The earring projected an image of a young woman with burnished skin and unkempt red hair bound by a bandanna.  She was striding barefoot across the woods, surrounded by mossy old trees.  The woman paused, as if listening, and then slowly her head turned and she stared back at them with fierce indignation.  The projection blackened and a thin crack shot down the black crystal.  The earring hit the map and lay there, impotent.

“Wow,” Pathos said.

Amethyst ran her finger over the crystal, mending the break.

“I remember her,” Peripetaia said.  “That day in the forest.”

“Yes,” Amethyst said.  “She’ll be a challenge.”

“I’m up to it,” Assyrius growled.  Aggression throbbed in his head.  He longed for gore, longed to soothe himself in the warm bath of someone else’s blood.  For now, he attacked the table, stabbing the vinyl with a pocketknife, little satisfied by the sterile stuffing that protruded from the wounds he cut.

“Stop that,” Pathos said.  “What’s the matter with you?”

Assyrius snapped the knife into its sheath. “Girl trouble.”
 

Lysistrata knew they were coming.  She glimpsed them, the same group that was fighting the Priestess and her allies for control of the seeds.  If they wished for death, she would deliver them without mercy.

Lysistrata dipped her fingers into the stream running by her makeshift shelter.  The water spoke to her, informing her of the seeds’ locations.  Four yet remained undiscovered, and it seemed that the mystery of one resided in the annals of her own mind.

Lysistrata set her flute to her lips and played a requiem.

“Y’come to this grave a lot,” Dagan observed.  He knelt in the soil of a nearby plot, ripping up clovers and stuffing them into a bag.

“Every week,” Azura said.  “It’s like a habit now.”

She placed a fresh carnation in front of the crossed sticks that marked Sikari’s grave.  A dead snapdragon poked out from Dagan’s trash.

“So, lissen,” Dagan said, attention focused on his work, “I’m still not quite sure what this soldier thing is about.”

“What more do you want to know?”

“I dunno,” he said with a shrug. “Why me?”

“I can’t answer that.  But you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to.  We won’t force you.  Except maybe Jada.  But…”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Dagan said hastily, his soft t’s and g’s disappearing altogether.  “I just don’t understand why this is happening, that’s all.”

“Have you had any weird dreams since you first transformed?”

“Yeah…a few,” he said.

“What were they like?” she prodded.

“Loads of caves.  And stained glass.  Ravines.  Pillars.  An altar and cups filled with colored fire.”

He paused, eyeing her to see if she thought he was crazy.  She smiled.

“I’ve also been seeing someone that’s me, but not exactly.  He walks around the caves in robes the color of clay and stone, and he wears rings on his fingers and metal bracelets.  He’s barefoot.  He talks to spirits.  But he has my eyes, face, and voice, the same height, the same hands.  So it’s almost like I’m seeing… a past life.”

“Right,” Azura said.  “See, you’ve started to remember already.”

“Do you have dreams like that?”

“Yeah.  The others have, too.”

“That is comforting.  Thanks for the reassurance.”

“We Brits have to stick together,” Azura said.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you where you’re from,” Dagan said.  “Though you sound like the usual Londoner.”

“Yes, that’s it,” Azura paused.  “Is that bad?”

“Oh, no,” Dagan said.  “It’s nothing against you personal.  But, I am Irish, yanno.”

“Er, yeah…that whole invasion thing wasn’t my idea.”

“Right, right,” he grinned.  “No hard feelings.”

“What about you?  Where are you from in Ireland?”

“Omagh.  It’s a ways west of Belfast.  I left there just a few months ago.  I’ve always wanted to go to the States and attend school, right?  But my da, he never gave me a straight answer.  Just a lot of next years and laters and all that.  Finally, this year, he agreed, so now I’m living with my uncle.”

“Oh.  I’ve been here a while.  Ever since I was ten.  My parents divorced, but my dad still lives in London.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  It must be hard for you.”

“A little bit, yeah.  It’s ‘cause Mom’s a surgeon, so I don’t get to see either of’em much.”

“My uncle’s always about,” Dagan said. “But he’s usually not making a lot of noise, so that’s nice.”

“He seems like a nice man.”

“He’s real up on his inner peace.  I admire him,” Dagan said.  “After all, he’s only twenty eight and he’s already taken a vow of celibacy.  Don’t think I could ever do that.”

“N-no?” Azura tried in vain to will away the heat rising to her cheeks.

Dagan looked at her directly, even as he tried to tie the bag.  “Could you?”

“It’s a pretty big decision,” Azura wasn’t sure she liked this turn of conversation.

“I should think God would be more concerned with your character than anything else.  Not that I’m saying it’s all right just to go out and go home with anyone you meet, but I don’t see why it’s necessary to cut out sex completely, yanno?”

Azura’s face burned red like a cherry tomato.  “Um, well, maybe, but, I always thought it was a sign of devotion.  Something to show your absolute loyalty to God.”

“A good point,” he said.  “I guess I just think God’s worried about other things.”

“Maybe so,” Azura conceded.

Dagan seemed to sense her wariness, so he said, “Say, this knot won’t go.  Would you mind giving me a hand?”

“Oh, sure,” Azura said.

“Just hold the bag steady, if you please.”  He knotted the bag’s ends together.  “Right, thanks.”

His hand brushed hers as she let go.  She was struck by his warmth, and the contrast of his sun-baked skin against her own, white like salt.

Dagan hefted the bag over his shoulder, unflinching under its weight.  “I gotta take this to the street.”

“I’ll walk you,” she said, after some thought.

“Can I come in?” she asked.

“If you want,” Celina said.

Diana handed her daughter a glass of warm milk.  “Drink this.”

Celina sipped it, and the tension drained from her muscles.

“Mom…” she said.  “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Celina didn’t read comic books and she didn’t watch many cartoons, but she knew superheroes kept their identities secret for a reason.  Even so, any lie she concocted would end with the scars on her belly, which would lead to her mother calling the police.

“Mom, er, I’m, I’m a,” Celina swallowed hard, “asuperhero.”

“What?”

“I’masuperhero.”

“Honey, I can’t understand you.”

“Listen, mom.  I transform, and I have magical powers, and I fight evil.  Assyrius is being controlled by that evil.”

“The stress has made you delirious.  Lie down,” Diana felt Celina’s forehead.

“No, mom.  I’m not delirious.  Watch.” She took her pen from her desk and raised it over her head.  “Luna Power!”

Diana watched in silence as Celina changed, before her eyes, into an embarrassingly short skirt.

“You go out in that?” Diana whispered.

“Yes,” Luna said.  “To fight evil.”

“I’m drinking the rest of this milk,” Diana said, and held the glass to her lips.

While she drank, Luna explained everything, about Assyrius, the Black Moon, and the other girls.  Diana took everything in, and  after her mother calmed down, Celina changed back to her pajamas.

“So do you understand?” Celina asked.

“No,” Diana said. “But I’ll work on it.”

“You’re not going to call the cops or anything, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mom, you can’t.  You absolutely can’t.  I know they’ve got guns and everything, but that’s useless against the sorts of things Assyrius and his friends can do.  It would be a disaster.”

“What if you’re killed?”

“I won’t be killed.  I told you, I have a whole team of people helping me.  Mom, promise me you won’t tell anyone.  Please.”

Diana sighed into her empty glass.  “All right.  I promise.  But if these friends of yours let you get hurt, then this agreement is null and void.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Celina said.  “I think Assyrius is in more danger.”

“If anyone can bring him around, it’ll be you,” Diana said.  She embraced her daughter tightly. “Why don’t you rest while I make dinner, okay?”

“Okay.”

Diana shut the door behind her as she left.  Celina paced on her carpet, at once relieved and terrified.  Kaitlyn and the others would not be pleased to hear about this, even though she was sure that her mother was trustworthy.  She decided against keeping it a secret, as such a deception would cause more problems than it solved.

Celina unzipped her purse and opened her pack of tarot cards.  She arranged them on her desk and drew back her curtains.  The yellow moon was half full, and misty with cloud cover.

She ran her fingers over the cards, and they greeted her with bloody images, which she had almost come to expect.  She saw a fierce battle, in the woods, between the Mana Senshi and the Black Moon.  Prominent in her mind’s eye was Assyrius, bleeding heavily from deep wounds, his body bruised and battered.  His jacket was torn and darkly stained, and rivulets of blood trickled from the corners of his mouth.  He lost his balance, stumbled, and fell on his side, his arms and legs limp.  The light died in his eyes as they closed, and the breath in his chest ceased.  He was dead.

Celina swept aside the cards in shock, disbelieving their prediction.  She gripped the front of her desk, gasping.

Downstairs, the phone rang.

Reve greeted Kaitlyn at the door when she returned from school, slaloming around her legs as she moved towards her room.

“Time to gaze into the crystal ball,” Kaitlyn said.

CK was on the bed, turning the Exitium Heart over and over in her hands.

“Hey, CK,” Kaitlyn said.

CK looked up without shame.  “This jewel is fascinating.”

“Ain’t it, though?” Kaitlyn climbed onto the bedspread behind CK and hugged the little girl’s waist.  “Wanna give it to me?”

“If I must,” CK said.

“When did you wake up?” Kaitlyn asked as she traced patterns on the diamond’s facets.  Its magic activated under her touch, and a vision formed in her mind.

“Twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, man,” Kaitlyn groaned.

“I’m a growing girl.”

“No, not you, CK.  The next target is Lysistrata.”

“I recall you mentioning her.”

“She’s an unusual person,” Kaitlyn placed the Exitium Heart back into her jewelry box and shut it.  “I’d better get everyone together.”

Their reactions didn’t surprise her.

“Don’t you think that crazy bitch can take care of herself?” Jada said.

“Seriously.  I think we can sit this one out,” said Lani.

“No,” Kiera said.  “We need those seeds.  If she won’t give the knowledge to the Black Moon, perhaps she’ll release it to us.”

“Not bloody likely,” Azura shook her head.  “I wouldn’t call us friends of hers.”

“Then we must persuade her,” Kiera said.

“Don’t make us do it, Kait,” Lani pleaded.  “She’ll cut us.”

“Kiera’s right, though,” Kaitlyn said.

“Let’s go, then,” Dagan said.  “If we can’t convince this Lysistrata to hand over the seed thing, then we’ll take’er too, won’t we?”

“And we’ll lose,” Jada said.  “I know you’re new and all, but you need to understand that we are not dealing with an ordinary woman.  We are dealing with a crazy bitch.”

“She’s not that bad, Jada,” Kaitlyn said.  “Don’t forget that she’s a member of the Mana Tribe.  It’s her sworn duty to protect us.”

“Protect you, actually,” Kiera said.  “I confess that I suspect she considers the rest of us expendable.”

“Then I’ll be the one to talk to her,” Kaitlyn said. “You guys just worry about the Black Moon.”

“Fine by me,” Lani said.

“Then let us away into the night!” Roan jumped to her feet.  “Let us smear the green lichens red with the filthy blood of our enemies.”

Jada, noting Dagan’s expression at Roan’s proclamation, clarified: “Roan is crazy, but she’s not a bitch.  Or, at least, not in the same league of bitchery as Lysistrata.”

“Got it,” he said, though he trailed far behind Roan as the group filed out of Kaitlyn’s apartment.

“Hey, wait, where’s Celina?” Azura asked.

“Her mother said she wasn’t feeling well,” Kaitlyn answered.  “So I figured she should stay home and rest.”

“Lucky,” Lani said.

Kaitlyn wasn’t so sure.  Celina’s mother sounded upset, even tearful.  Her voice was quiet and constricted, like it hurt to speak.  If she survived the night with all her limbs intact, she wanted to pay Celina a visit.

The forest welcomed them with ominous, quivering branches.  The evening breeze slithered through the grass, sweeping fallen leaves into whirlwinds.

“Spooky,” Jada whispered.

“All together now,” Kaitlyn held up her transformation pen.  “Mana Power, Make Up!”

The others cried out in unison, beseeching their respective elements for strength and instant manicures.

“It’s a good thing I get gloves,” Gnome said, peeking at his shiny, dark brown nails.

“But you look so stylish,” Undine teased.

“I suppose I can’t really complain about a free buff and polish,” he admitted, but he pulled the glove back on tight.

They traversed the forest in relative silence, with Mana in the lead.  Occasionally, Mana glanced over her shoulder at her teammates.  Salamando stretched her lips apart and waggled her tongue upon catching Mana’s eyes for the third time.

“What’s the matter, chief?” Salamando clapped a firm hand on Mana’s shoulder.  “Something on our faces?”

“N-no,” Mana said. “I feel weird with everyone walking behind me like I’m some sort of squad commander.”

“You are our commander,” Lumina said.

Mana didn't ask if she were really qualified for such a position.  It wasn’t the time.  Instead she said, “We’re almost there. Her hut is just beyond that clearing.”

“Wait,” Shade said.  “Stop.”

“Something’s not right,” Gnome agreed.

They turned their heads, listening.  The leaves above them shook with strange ferocity, but they could see nothing in the dense, dark canopy.

Boots crushed the twigs in front of Mana’s feet as Lysistrata dropped down from an overhanging branch. “Looking for me, Priestess?”

Mana hopped backwards in surprise, narrowly avoiding an upraised tree root.

“Sailormana!” Lumina spread her arms out in front of Mana and glared at Lysistrata.  “Stay back.”

“You have nothing to fear,” Lysistrata said.  “It is forbidden for a member of the Mana Tribe to harm the Priestess.”

“It’s okay, Lumina, I can handle it,” Mana insisted.  “You don’t need to protect me.”

“I know why you’re here,” Lysistrata said.  “You want the knowledge in my head.”

“You got it,” Gnome said.  “Mind handing it over?”

“It’s not the time,” she replied.

“If you don’t give it to us, the Black Moon will get it,” Sylphid said, albeit timidly.

“Don’t underestimate me,” Lysistrata said.

“O-oh, I’m not,” Sylphid said.  “But, they’re, uh, not exactly defenseless newborns themselves.”

As if to prove her point, the vines clinging to the tree trunks around them detached and lashed out, striking at Lysistrata, binding her throat, arms and legs.

“How dare you,” Lyisistrata snapped the vines easily, then drew her sword. “Show yourselves.”

“We’re not hiding,” Nemesis stood, flanked by her minions, in the center of the clearing.  She didn’t waste time.  With a flick of her wrist, she threw a psychic blast at Lysistrata.  In response, Lysistrata struck the air in a swift, precise slash, deflecting the energy back at Nemesis’s group.  They scattered and the blast skimmed over the lake, causing a sizable  wave that crashed and fizzled against the banks.

“Impressive,” Nemesis said.  “Try this.”

She threw down one of her earrings.  Its sharp point drove into the soil, and it pulsed, emitting an electrified energy grid that burst upwards into thick columns.

“Watch out!” Mana cried, as the crackling columns enveloped Shade, Lumina, and Gnome.  The others were trapped, unable to move lest the columns damage them as well.  They gaped in horror as their friends screamed noiselessly, drowned out by the sparking, hissing energy.

Lysistrata, now Sailorknight, jumped into the trees just before a column rose beneath her feet.

“I don’t have a long range weapon,” she called. “One of you must break the crystal.”

“Undine!” Mana said.  “Your bow and arrows!”

“Right!” Undine mimicked the motion of straining an arrow against a bow and the weapon appeared in her hands, along with a quiver on her back.

“I, I must warn you, though,” Undine said, as her wrist shook with the effort of holding the arrow, “I know nothing about archery!”

“Just do your best!” Mana said.

“Hurry, or they’ll die!” Sylphid chewed on her lips, transfixed by the open but silent mouths of her comrades.  Undine could not bear the sight of Gnome’s anguished lips, his eyes wide with terror and pain.

The area between columns was thin, leaving her with a narrow shot.  She could barely see the earring between the slits of available space, and she had no range of movement.

“Do it!” Knight yelled.

“Block the shot,” Nemesis ordered.

“Right,” Assyrius said.

The vines writhed, waiting.

“God, give me strength,” Undine said.

She released the arrow.

Assyrius’s vines whipped out to catch it.

“Not so fast, bitch!” Salamando said.  “Fire Bouquet!”

Flames seared the vines, and they fell to ashes as the arrow sped on to its target.

“Damn it,” Nemesis said.

The arrow hit, and the earring cracked.  The columns dissipated.

Undine caught Gnome, Mana caught Lumina, and Sylphid caught Shade as the three pitched backwards.   Their uniforms were torn and bloody, their breath ragged.

Meanwhile, Knight dove into the clearing and sliced the earring in two.  Its cloven halves lay on the grass, cold and black.
Rage overcame Nemesis.  She hovered in midair and sent a powerful blast at Knight, who could not deflect the attack, though she managed to block most of its force with her sword.

Mana laid Lumina’s body against a tree and summoned her staff.

“Radical Healing!” she swept the staff in a wide arc.  Translucent green rain followed the path of her swing, mending her friends’ bodies.

“You…are awesome,” Lumina coughed.

“Tweren’t nothin’, ma’am,” Mana breathed, her skin flushed with spent power.  She leaned on the staff for support.  “We’ve got to help Sailorknight.”

“She seems to be holding up okay,” Sylphid observed.

Knight was taking on the entire Black Moon group, expertly dodging and blocking every attack they attempted.  She cut Assyrius’s grass, knocked away Harmatia’s knives, and avoided Pathos’s line of destruction.  The earth suffered, but she had not yet sustained a scratch.  Her anger was evident.

“Why is she so upset?” Sylphid said.  “They can’t even touch her.”

“She can’t touch them, either,” Shade said.  “It is a frustrating stalemate.”

“Then let’s get in there and break it!” Gnome said.  “Gem Missile!”

Huge, jagged jewels crashed onto the Black Moon’s heads.  One shattered directly over Peripetaia, and she collapsed.

“Peri!” Pathos ran to her, distracted.  “Peri, wake up!”

“Worry about yourself,” Sylphid said.  “Air Blades!”

“Agh!” Pathos covered Peri’s body with his own, taking the full force of the sharp, tearing gusts of air.  Pieces of his trenchcoat whipped away and settled on the lake’s surface.

Despite the help, Knight’s scowl remained.

“I understand,” Mana said. “She’s angry because…the forest is in pain.”

“I won’t let you hurt her,” Pathos growled at Sylphid. “Futilis Vociferari!”

“Lucid Barrier!” Lumina shouted.  The uprooted rocks and clumps of dirt bounced off her shield.

“You!” Knight cried, momentarily forgetting Nemesis. “You will stop, or shall I cut off your head and let the blood feed the earth you have so wantonly desecrated.”

She pressed the blade of her sword against the back of Pathos’s neck.

“No decapitation, please!” Mana said.

Pathos didn’t move.

“Now’s our chance,” Nemesis spoke telepathically to Assyrius and Harmatia.  “We’ll break that barrier if we attack together.”

The ground beneath Knight quaked and broke free of the surrounding bedrock, rising as a pillar.  Shocked by this new insult, she did not even try to block the combined force of Nemesis’s psychic blast and Harmatia’s electrified knives.  The blow knocked her off the pillar, and she slammed down beside Pathos and Peripetaia, pinned by the knives.

“Got her,” Assyrius crowed.

“We wouldn’t have to needed to rip up your forest if you had only cooperated,” Nemesis said.  She reached her palm to Knight’s forehead.

Knight laughed, causing Nemesis to withdraw.

“Fool,” Knight said.  A white aura shone along the outline of her body.  The knives were forced from her shoulders, and disintegrated.  She sat up, both hands gripping the hilt of her weapon.

Nemesis took a step back.

“I am the Mana Knight,” Knight proclaimed.  She brandished her sword.  “Compared to me, you are insects.”

The aura fled from her body and into the sword.  Knight swung, and an immense blast of power issued forth.

When the light died, Nemesis was on her knees, and her allies lay comatose and bleeding from grave wounds.

“You won’t defeat me,” Knight raised the sword, preparing to plunge it into Nemesis’s back.

“No!  Stop!”  Mana shouted.

“Why?” Knight said.  “I shall execute these people as I executed that traitor.”

“You can’t!” Mana pleaded.  “Please, you just can’t.”

“Damn it,” Lumina said.  “We could end this right now.  What is the matter with you?”

“I don’t want anybody to die,” Mana said, tears welling in her eyes.

“Still clinging to your idealistic notions of reality, I see,” Knight said.

“Don’t treat me like a child,” Mana said.  “I know we have to fight.  But I don’t want things to end in a massacre.  Of either side.”

“Why…” Nemesis whispered.  “Why do you defend us?  We are your enemies.”

“I told you,” Mana said.  “I don’t want a massacre.”

“That’s not an answer,” Nemesis clutched her chest and coughed.  Blood spattered her fingers.

Knight lingered over Nemesis, thinking.

“I can’t believe this,” Lumina grumbled.

There was a thrashing in the trees, and everyone who was able turned that way in surprise.

“Assyrius!” Sailorluna came stumbling into the clearing.

“Luna!” Mana said.

“I saw—I saw in my cards—Assyrius—he died!” Luna babbled, still stumbling as she made her way to Assyrius’s prone body.  “Oh, God!”

Assyrius’s eyes opened slightly as Luna’s tears splashed onto his cheeks.  “Who…?”

“Don’t die, Assyrius,” Luna sobbed.  “Please, you can’t!”

“Don’t worry, Luna,” Mana hoisted her staff.

“Oh, Jesus, here we go again,” Lumina sighed.

“But it is kind of dishonorable to kick people when they’re down,” Sylphid said.

“I guess,” Lumina said. “But, still.  Does she have to do this every time?”

“Wait—she’s going to heal them?” Gnome said.

“Yes,” Undine replied.

“What the bloody hell?”

“I know, man.  I know,” Lumina said.

“We don’t need your pity,” Nemesis snapped.  “Or your mercy.”

In the next instant, they were gone.

“No!” Luna cried. “Assyrius!  He has to go to the hospital!”

“Forget your concern,” said Lysistrata.  “A good leader does not allow her allies to perish so easily.”

“That is correct,” Kiera agreed.  “However, I would be surprised if Nemesis possessed healing abilities…”

“What do you mean?” Kaitlyn said.

“I wonder about what method she’ll employ to fix their wounds, that’s all,” Kiera said.

“I, I don’t want him to die,” Celina whispered.

Kaitlyn hugged her.  “It’ll be okay, Celina.  I promise.”

Celina rubbed tears from her eyes and hiccupped.  She let Kaitlyn support her, resting her head on the taller girl’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

“No big deal,” Jada said.  “I don’t even know if we were really needed.”

“Don’t sell yourselves short,” Lysistrata said. “I benefited greatly from your assistance.”

Jada blinked.  “Wow.  Thanks.”

“I give credit where it’s due.”

“So, are you going to tell us where the next seed is?” Jada said.

“No.”

“Why not?” Kaitlyn said.

“I told you—it’s not the time.”

“Can’t I, um, order you to tell us?”

“I suppose you could,” Lysistrata said.  “But I will tell you, when it is appropriate to do so.”

“How is it that you’re aware of your knowledge?” Kiera asked.  “The others carried it subconsciously.”

Lysistrata shrugged. “The water tells me many things.”

She winced, and clutched her shoulder.  Blood trickled out of a crack in her armor, where the knives had bit her flesh.

“At least let me heal you,” Kaitlyn said.

“No, I’m fine,” Lysistrata said.  “It’s this ravaged ground that needs your care.”  She gestured to the ragged mess of dirt, clay, and overturned clumps of grass left by their battle.  “Can’t you feel its agony?”

“I, um, I…” Kaitlyn knelt, and traced the lines of desiccated roots and clay, the remains of Patho’s attack.  She grimaced, and drew back, cradling her hand to chest.

“I didn’t know plants had feelings,” Roan said.  “They sure don’t scream when you stab’em.”

“It’s not like that,” Lysistrata said.  “The pain is not from the plants themselves, but the spirit that sustains them and all other life.  Wanton destruction of any sort of life injures this spirit and causes it sorrow.”

“You don’t have much room for self-righteous posturing,” Roan said, eyes bright with rare lucidity.  “You soak that sword in blood the way a dishwasher soaks a plate in water.”

“Yes,” Lysistrata admitted.  “I, too, cause the earth sorrow.  But some measure of suffering is necessary to prevent its spread.  As long as wickedness prevails, judges and executioners will be needed.”

“Don’t forget juries,” said Lani.

“Juries only complicate matters,” Lysistrata said.

“Damn, lady,” Dagan said.  “What happened to you?”

Lysistrata sighed.  “If you really want the answer, return here tomorrow.  I shall tell you a story.”

“Why don’t y’just tell us now?” Dagan said.
“I’m tired,” she replied, holding her shoulder as she walked away.

“C’mon,” Kaitlyn said, after Lysistrata disappeared into the trees.  “Let’s go.”

“Kaitlyn,” Celina said.  She still sat, head down, hair falling over her face.  “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s my mom, um, she, um.  She knows,” Celina tensed as she finished the sentence.

“You’re kidding,” Jada said.  “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“No,” Celina brushed away her hair.  “I’m not.  I’m sorry.  She was asking me about Assyrius and she was going to call the police and I just—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”  She trembled, swallowing tears.

“Oh, honey,” Kaitlyn said.  “Don’t cry.”

“I c-can’t help it.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Kaitlyn frowned at her friends, wanting their support.

“Listen, it’s, it’s not that bad,” Jada managed.  Pity overtook her annoyance, and she joined Kaitlyn by Celina’s side.

“Yes.  She’s your only family, correct?” Kiera said.

“Yeah,” Celina said.  “She’s really trustworthy.  She’d never tell anyone.”

“Even so, the knowledge puts her in danger,” Kiera said.  “As well as the rest of us.”

“Right,” Lani said.  “If I told my parents about all this—and they didn’t think I was crazy—they’d be wanting to fight these battles for me.”

“I told her it’s okay, because…because I have friends who’ll protect me,” Celina smiled wanly.

“That’s right, you do,” Kaitlyn squeezed Celina’s shoulders.  “Thank you for being honest.”

“Sounds like a tough situation,” said Dagan.  “No worries.”

“Indeed.  Police involvement would be most unfortunate,” Roan said.  She cracked her knuckles.  “Can’t have’em stealing the fun, after all.”

“You guys are great,” Celina said.  “Really great.”

“We’re in this together,” Jada said.  “As cheesy as that sounds.”

She and Kaitlyn helped Celina to her feet.

Kiera coughed.  “Ah, in the interest of friendship—it’s clear that we’ve all had a long day, you perhaps most of all, Celina. Would you all like to go somewhere for dinner?  My treat.”

“Oh, Lord, yes,” Dagan said.  “I’m starving.”

“Me, too,” said Azura.

“How’s about it, Celina?” Jada said.  “We can get something full of fat and deliciousness.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

Amethyst transported everyone to her apartment.  Blood from their wounds seeped into the carpet, and none of them moved.

She fitted together the broken halves of her earring and then unpinned the other from her ear.  These she set on the coffee table, while she took the earrings from her allies.  After collecting them, she laid them side by side.  The earrings fused to each other, merging to form a new black crystal, tall as the ceiling and wide like an oak tree’s trunk.  Energy radiated from the crystal, which Amethyst absorbed before she transferred it to the comatose bodies around her.  This done, she snapped her fingers, and the crystal split.  The earrings returned to their respective earlobes as everyone began to stir.

“I’m…alive,” Pathos said.  “But my head hurts.”

“I healed you with the black poison crystal,” Amethyst said.

“So why’s it hurt so much?” Assyrius groaned.

“It’s not called poison for nothing,” she replied.

Peripetaia wheezed, doubled over in pain.  “How could you heal us with it, then?”

“I can direct the crystal’s power any way I like,” Amethyst said. “But there might be some…side effects.”

“I’ll say,” Pathos muttered.  “My veins look purple.  And my head...”
“You should all rest now,” Amethyst said.  “It was a difficult battle.”

“She was too strong,” Assyrius agreed.  His eyes flashed. “I hardly got to do anything.”

“Yes, we underestimated her,” Amethyst said. “I will find us a different target for now.”

She spread out the map on her coffee table and positioned the earring.  It presented an image of a child who bore a striking resemblance to Lysistrata.  She would do.

A limousine arrived at the forest entrance to pick up Kiera and the others.

“Swank,” said Dagan.

“Thank you,” Kiera said.

A chauffeur opened the door and waited as they piled in.

“Where would you all like to go?” Kiera asked.

“Nothing too fancy,” Jada said. “We’re all kinda grubby right now, yanno.”

“That is true,” Kiera agreed.  She spoke to the driver.

“Man,” Lani sighed.  “I’m beat.”

She draped herself across Roan and Azura’s legs.

“You are light like a fly and soft like a marshmallow,” Roan proclaimed.  “Therefore I will authorize your intrusion of my personal bubble.”

“Gee, I had hoped the fact that we’ve been best friends for ten years had something to do with it,” Lani said.

“Not at all!”

“Y’know,” Lani went on, “We fight Nemesis and her whole group almost every battle.  It’s like having to beat a boss for every mission.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jada said.

“Like in video games.  Usually you fight a bunch of small fry, and then maybe a mini-boss or two—like Aegis and Sikari and sort of Xin—and then the big boss, that’s Riordan.  But, see, with these guys, it’s like fighting the boss and the mini-bosses all at once, every time.  Know what I mean?”
“No,” Celina said.

“I kinna get it,” Dagan said.  “I play video games, too.  She’s just trying to say that fighting is more overwhelming than it used to be—right?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Then, we should train,” Kaitlyn said.

“Where we gonna do that?” Jada said.

“We could use the forest,” Azura suggested.

“As long as we don’t rough it up too badly, I guess,” Lani said.

“Are y’all going to hear her story tomorrow?” Jada said.

“Definitely,” Kaitlyn nodded.  “I’ve always wanted to know more about her.”

“It should be enlightening,” Kiera said.

“We’re here, miss,” said the driver over a speaker.

He let them out.

“Awesome,” said Jada.  “Denny’s!”

When Kaitlyn returned home, she found CK sitting in Etienne’s lap on her couch.

“Looks I’m the one interrupting something now,” Kaitlyn said.

“What are you talking about—” Etienne said, then added quickly, “Hey, she climbed into my lap!”

“Correct,” CK snuggled against Etienne’s chest.

“Whatever,” Kaitlyn said.  “I’ve gotta shower.  It’s been a long night.”

“Wait,” Etienne said.  “Do…do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, no, it’s fine.  Don’t let me bother you.” She flounced into her room and shut the door.

“Jeez,” Etienne said.  “She’s not jealous, is she?”

“She’s tired,” CK said.  “Now then, tell me more about your memories of your past life.”

“Wait a second,” Etienne swung his head back and forth. “Where’s that cat?”

“In Kaitlyn’s room, last I saw.”

“So he’s watching her undress?”

“He’s probably sleeping…that’s what cats do most of the time.”

“Except that guy’s not always a cat,” Etienne grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Anyway, I’ve told you all I can remember.  Honestly, the details are fuzzy,” he said. “I don’t think my past life was all that great, though.  Unless I’m only remembering the bad things.”

“You need more time,” CK slid off his lap. “But thank you for your cooperation.”

She reached under the couch and dragged Reve out by the scruff of his neck.

“Hey, I thought you said he was in there,” Etienne said.

“Guess I was wrong,” CK tickled Reve’s belly.

“I would never spy on Kaitlyn like that,” Reve purred, batting playfully at CK.  “That would be rude.”

“Never?”

“Not on purpose.”

“Ugh.”

“Looks like you’re a bit jealous yourself,” CK observed.

“This is totally different.  Reve is a full grown man.  Kind of,” Etienne protested.

“Whatever you say,” CK said.

After about an hour of blow-drying her hair, Kaitlyn emerged from her bedroom, wearing a long shirt and silk boxers.

“It’s still damp,” she complained.  “I can’t do anything about this hair.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Etienne offered.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Kaitlyn kissed him on the cheek.

“You weren’t really jealous of CK, were you?” Etienne said.  The little girl in question had wandered, on cue, into Kaitlyn’s bedroom, with Reve squirming happily in her arms.

“Naw,” Kaitlyn said.  “I just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Etienne said.  “Look, it’s like I keep saying.  Me being jealous of Reve and Jigoku is totally different.  They’re full grown men.”

“In Reve’s case, hardly,” Kaitlyn said.  “And in Jigoku’s case, he’s just being protective, that’s all.  You shouldn’t get so worked up about it.  It’s hurtful.”

“Hurtful?”

“Well, yeah.  It’s like you think I’m going to cheat on you or something.”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” he protested.  She pursed her lips sourly, as if daring him to dig his grave deeper.  He decided to change the subject. “You said you had a long night.  Let’s talk about that instead.  How’d the battle go?”

“Weirdly,” Kaitlyn replied. “Lysistrata’s so powerful.”

“She didn’t hurt you, did she?”

“Nah,” Kaitlyn said.  “Actually, tomorrow is storytime.  Wanna come?”

“So she’s going to explain why she’s a crazy bitch?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, but I guess,” Kaitlyn said.

“Fun.  I’m there.”

Kaitlyn yawned and relaxed against Etienne’s shoulder. “Man.”

He kissed her curls. “Maybe you should sleep.”  Her hair spilled over his legs like a blanket.  He stroked a lock of her ringlets, twisted it around his finger.

“Yeah,” she murmured.  “But this is nice, too.”

The next evening, everyone gathered back at the forest.

“I brought a blanket and sodas,” Jada said. “And Fuu.  I tried to get a hold of Charon, but he was sleeping or something.”

Fuu’s long tail, twined around Jada’s neck like a scarf, twitched expectantly.

“I brought Etienne,” Kaitlyn said.

“Oh, hey, Etienne,” Jada said. “You’re looking radiant, as usual.”

“Har,” Etienne said.

Outside her hut, Lysistrata waited.

“Hello,” she said.  Her shoulders were bound in gauze and tinted red.

Jada laid her blanket on the grass.  Ten people was a tight fit, even when Fuu, transformed, opted to splay out on the ground besides them, being used to dirt and insects.

“As you know, I, like Riordan and Rose, am a member of the Mana Tribe,” Lysistrata began.  “Like them and most of you—” she glanced questioningly at Fuu, “I used to live in Fa’Diel.  However, my time there began long after his or yours, after the Great War.

I was an orphan.  I lived with a sage in the mountains.  My life there was peaceful, and I spent my days learning physical and mental disciplines from the sage.  But this not a story about that time.  This is a story about my brother.

In those days, people treated the story of the Great War as a fairy tale.  The power of Mana was weak, forgotten by its followers.  For the most part, the temples stood unguarded and overrun by monsters.  The Sanctuary was lost, the last Temple sunk beneath the sea.  The sword itself slept, rusting, beneath a waterfall.  That is, until my brother found it.

While I trained in that cave, Mark, along with his friends, fought the evil rising in our world.  They restored the sunken continent, revived the sword, and slew the Mana Beast.  I met him not long after this victory, when I was twelve.  I started to travel with him, and his friends.  But I was the weakest member of the group—Mark always had to protect me.  I hated to be a burden, so I worked harder, going out tot rain by myself even at night while the others slept.  But I was too young, too weak.  On more than one occasion, I met monsters that I couldn’t handle.  Somehow, Mark always seemed to know where I was.

He never scolded me, or discourage me, despite the fact that, as a woman, I ought to have been more concerned with studying healing or herbs.  Typically, females of the tribe are destined to become the soul of the Mana Tree, and we didn’t need another Mana Knight—Mark was handling the position well enough.

Still, I struggled to become stronger, so that my brother would no longer have to protect me, so that I could protect him.

You see, even though Mark had destroyed the Mana Beast and restored the balance, evil persisted, because, after all, light must be offset by darkness.  Together, we fought these evils: monsters, fanatics, sorcerers.  One such sorcerer, named Rien, was a persistent threat.  He gave me this scar on my cheek here.

One night, we tracked him to a ruined castle on the outskirts of the lost continent.  He sought an artifact among the broken stones: the Exitium Heart.  Rumors said that it had not disappeared with the last Mana Priestess, but instead remained somewhere on the lost continent.  Of course, we were not about to let Rien take it.

He employed a trite but efficient ruse.  Mark struck at him with the sword again and again, but each time Rien dodged, drawing us deeper and deeper into the ruins.  We attacked him with everything we had, but he continued to evade us.  He never countered until it was too late.  As Mark and the others gasped for breath, exhausted and frustrated, we realized his ploy.  Rien had worn us down.

My brother was on the ground, panting for breath, his perspiring hands barely holding the hilt of his sword.  Rien attacked then, in a rush of magic and blades, and I couldn’t save him, because I was too slow, too weak. I jumped at Rien, my own sword held high, but he knocked me away with a conjured gust of wind. My own screams drowned out my brother's cries of pain. He looked like a grotestque, torn apart rag doll, the skin of his chest ripped away to reveal his bony ribs and red, gushing heart. I had seen many terrible things since I reunited with my brother, but none of them compared to that. Nothing equaled the look of sheer terror and pain twisting his features, or the sight of his own blood spilling from his body and pooling onto the floor. I fainted then, with Rien's laughter ringing in my ears. When I woke, he was gone, and I was alone with the corpses of my brother and our friends.

Why he didn’t kill me as well I can’t guess.  Possibly he thought I was already dead, or that I simply wasn’t a threat.

I was mad with grief and rage, I was consumed by terror and loneliness.  I buried what I could of the mangled corpses in the castle’s overgrown garden.  The rest I had no choice but to leave for the beasts.

For several days I stayed in the castle.  I did nothing but fight the endless stream of monsters that infested it halls, mindlessly becoming stronger.  I used my brother’s sword.

On the ninth day, I found the castle’s library.  In it there were books that told of the old legends I had heard many times before, but there were also more obscure stories.  One of these described the account of a traitorous member of the Mana Tribe—the story of Riordan’s madness after the loss of his family, how he turned his back on the world and started to practice forbidden magic.  According to the book, Riordan discovered where the Mana Tree had sent the temple priest and priestesses, along with the Exitium Heart.  He had also discovered a way to get there, which was detailed in the book.

It involved time and dimensional magic, both of which are strictly forbidden.  But there was nothing left for me on Fa’Diel, and I wanted to know if this fairy tale was true, and if this traitor had really succeeded in his endeavor.  Imagine my surprise when it was.

Thus, I became the Mana Knight in my brother’s place, and, since I was here now, I resolved to deal with the evil in this world.  I am not worried about worried about Fa’Diel.  When the time is right, I will return.”

Jada offered Lysistrata a soda.

“So how long have you been here, exactly?” Etienne asked.

“I was seventeen when I performed the ceremony and crossed the lines of time and space,” Lysistrata said.  “So… only a few years.  I do not regret it.  I have learned much since coming here, particularly about the fate of the sword and the seeds, which disappeared after the final battle with the Mana Beast.  I suppose they, like all of you, traveled here.”

“I wish we could visit Fa’Diel,” Kaitlyn said. “I wonder what’s it like.”

“It’s beautiful,” Lysistrata said.  “But this world is not without its charms.”

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Azura said.

“Thank you for listening,” Lysistrata said. “But now the sun is dipping below the horizon, and I wish to retire.”

“And we’ve all got school tomorrow,” Lani said.

“Wait a second,” Kaitlyn said.  “There’s something I wanted to ask you.  Would it be all right if we used this forest as a training ground?”

“I certainly wouldn’t try to stop you,” Lysistrata replied.  “As long as you don’t knock down too many trees.”

“We’ll do our best,” Kaitlyn said.  “Thanks.”

Jada rolled up her blanket, and made Fuu carry the cooler of mostly empty soda cans.  She wanted to get home, to call Charon.  It worried her that he didn’t answer his phone.  Beside her, Kaitlyn and Etienne held hands as they walked.  Jada bit back a derisive comment, afraid that it would come out too tinged with jealousy.

In fact, no one spoke as they left the forest.

YES YOU DID WAIT A YEAR FOR THAT, to any of you still actually reading.  Hopefully Lysistrata's character is clearer now, and I also tried to focus a bit on Dagan and Celina.

Comments, plz--either email me or post.