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


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

				-Webster's 3rd New International Dictionary


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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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


	THE TALE OF MILADY SELENA


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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

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


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


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


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


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


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