CHAPTER SEVEN

"And she could desire no more from him."

 Prince, formerly known as Endymion, formerly an
actual human, sat in his lounge, staring at the
tablecloth.  It was green, the deep hunter green he
loved, and the edges of it were embroidered with
small flowers.  The artisians of the kingdom had
been—at least in his day and his father's day—both
learned and skilled, and had made the tiny
decorations as close to actual plants as possible. 
Now he studied them, holding it a little ways away
since his vision was both human keen—he could
distinguish shapes, colors, details and more complex
items—and animal keen—flickers of movement, long
distances, a more general sense—which gave allowed
him to observe minutia at large distances.  Yet, he
wasn't thinking about what allowed him to look, but
rather what he was looking at, for it gave him a
good indicator of what his day would be like.  If he
knew many of the flowers, and remembered the
trivialities humanity assigned to them like USE and
LORE, he was good for a day.  If, however, he
thought only of their scent or feel or how they
looked at night or dangling from the lips of prey,
he was going to have a rough day.  This morning,
they seemed to be coming to him more easily than
normal.
 There was a small tap on the door, and he called,
"Come in!"
 "I need help," came the reply.
 Now his eyes pulled away from the flowers, and he
smiled to himself, a tug at the corners of his
wolf's mouth which almost resembled a human smile. 
 he thought as he pushed away from
the table and moved to the door.   
He pulled the door open with a small bow, and was
not surprised to see Serin there.  However, he was
surprised to see her carrying a tray, which she
smiled over and announced, "Breakfast."
 "Are you a servant to be bringing me breakfast?" he
asked, closing the door as she moved into the room
to set it down on the table.  "Honestly, Serin,
someone could've brought that up."
 "A ruler must serve the people as often as he
leads, a role you are obviously not comfortable in,"
she replied primly, eyes a flashing, challenging
blue.  
 He began to protest as he pulled the chair away
from the table, but stopped when she sat, looking up
at him with an expression which spoke of an
argument.  "Let us not have this discussion now,
Serin.  You have brought us a meal," and now he
pushed her chair in, "so let us eat it."
 "As soon as you sit down," she replied with a small
smile, and he obliged her very graciously, forcing
his body into a courtier's grace which he thought
barely adequate.  Actually, he moved with
carnivorous grace, and very rarely do wild animals
trip, especially when they have fox feet.
 As soon as he sat, they took their plates off the
tray and began to enjoy their own respective meals. 
She was having buttered toast, juice, and fruit; he
had a few stale bread crusts, meat mostly raw, and
water in something more like a dish.  At first, she
had been nearly queasy watching him eat, but once he
explained to her that he could not handle human food
very well anymore, she accepted it.  He was a Beast,
and his body required the food of such.
 They ate in quiet, watching each other with furtive
eyes, content with just the company.  When she had
first joined him for a meal, he had been afraid he
would disgust her and she would leave; yet, instead,
she asked if he felt well.  After he'd explained
himself, she was fine, telling him not to worry—he
could go mad and she would still come to him.  He
was beautiful, remember?
  he thought as he brought the bowl to his
mouth, licking at the water as he sipped it, a
movement mastered early on.   His eyes glimmered, blue and suddenly soft,
and he had to catch himself before he sloshed water
all over his silks.  She looked up and smiled at
him, eyes staying on him even when he looked down. 
A question stirred at the edge of her mind, one that
had been hovering their ever since she had first
joined him for meals, something she was reluctant to
ask.   she thought now.  
 "Why do you not dine downstairs with the others?"
 He looked up, a piece of crust tucked in his mouth,
his eyes stern with surprise.  She didn't shrink
back now; she know how he reacted to unexpected
questions, with this odd, hungry look of the wolf
staring out from navy eyes.  Instead, she met his
gaze with a meek evenness that kept his temper from
flaring too hotly at her.  Instead, he thought about
her question…and found he had no answer.  Why did he
not eat with those downstairs?  Had he ever
considered it?  
 “My Lady Serin,” he began, “I’m afraid I have no
true answer as to why I will not eat with them.  In
the early day, my beast was…quite fierce, and I
secluded myself in fear of harming my guard.  They
were…my only true friends.”  He stopped, reflecting
over his words; they were true in the most honorable
sense, and he was sure apart of him had kept himself
back for that reason.  He also did not want to have
to face what had happened…not for awhile yet.  His
features softened, and he added, “Perhaps it has
cost me friendships I had no wish to end in the
first place.”
 “Oh, Prince, I doubt that,” she replied.  “They
seem as devoted as ever.”
 “I do not know why, Lady,” he replied.  “They…they
deserve better.”  He looked at her, finally, and
asked, “What do you think?”
 “Of them?  Oh, I know only little fragments of them
from my ladies, but they seem nice, helpful.”  She
cast back to her memories of that day when they had
shown them about the grounds.  “Secretive, I
believe, but everything in this castle has secrets. 
Yet I also feel the love they bear you, and that
respect you deny yourself.”  She smiled a little,
and her eyes averted to her plate.  “But I have
spent much of my time with you, and I am not
qualified to make a complete judgement.”
 “Wisely spoken, Lady,” he managed, swallowing a
piece of meat in an attempt to hide the plain
emotions he felt over his face.  “But do you
think…well, that I could…”
 “Ay, Prince, you need not say a thing.  Of course
they will support you—in fact, they’d probably be
shocked with happiness just to see you again,” she
replied, cutting her fruit into tiny pieces.
 “But what of your ladies?  Some have never seen me,
and none have seen me eat,” he pointed out.
 She allowed another smile, gently and graciously
reproving him.  “My ladies are all strong of
constitution, and my family has been exposed to
various rarities and oddities in the past.  They’ll
be fine,” she replied quietly, mentally roaming over
that territory.  The coming of powers…the dream
battles…enemies from nowhere…oh, all sorts of
strange things…and her smile for him altered a bit,
her secrets contained there if he could just read
them.
 Which he couldn’t; yet, it didn’t bother him.  The
Silence had provided him with a comfort zone, and he
had no wish to break out of that just yet.
 “So you think they could handle my habits?”
 “I am sure of it, Prince,” she replied.  “After
all, if I can, why can’t they?”
 “Well…I have no more arguments,” he said.  “So it
is set—I dine with the others downstairs tonight.”
 A great, bright smile spread over her face, and the
blue of her eyes lit once more, the soft silver
radiance she exuded contrasting with that lovely
light.  He felt his soul sigh, and it shown softly
in his deep, powerful eyes.  She met his gaze with
ease now, though; it seemed as if their close
contact gave her some immunity to his magic.  It
didn’t, however, give him any immunity against hers.
 “Look at this, Lady,” he said, finishing off a
rough piece of meat.  “It has been all of eight
days—four since we’ve begun to speak—and yet we work
so well together.  Is it not amazing?” 
 “I suppose, Prince, considering your temper,” she
jested.
 “Ay, yes,” he said, rubbing his ear, scratching for
a moment behind it.  Sometimes, it came in handy to
have fingers, especially when they were clawed.  “It
has always been nasty, unfortunately, and though I
must take blame for my acts, I…”  He stopped. 
“Lady?”
 She had looked away, not to be rude, but because of
a sudden thought that had zipped through her brain. 

 “What, Lady?” he asked again, ears flattening, his
eyes worried.  It always troubled him to see her
distracted, for she was such an astute listener,
even if she had memory troubles…but he shrugged that
off.  Any Lady willing to overlook his monstrous
appearance deserved to have some leeway.  Heck, a
lot of leeway—and more because she thought he was
beautiful.
 She looked down at her plate, and shuffled the
thought of telling him around her head again.  “It’s
the date,” she finally said, voice quiet.  “Six days
until my Senshi are…I lose them…” She trailed off,
silver blond head bowing in the light, all the
brightness of before curdling before his eyes.
 Mentally, he ground his teeth.  It wasn’t her
sensitivity that upset him, but the fact that he had
brought this sadness to her day…
 He uneasily reached out for her hand, fur brushing
crumbs and blood, yet he cared not.  Most of that
was black anyway, then dark crimson; it was more
likely to match than show.  He managed to brush her
hand, and she looked up, eyes light with tears now.
  he thought, and briefly wondered if this
was a good thing. 
 “Lady Serin,” he said, tenor of his voice
lightening a bit, “please do not fret.  There is so
much more to be happy about.”
 “Oh, Prince, what?” she said softly, a trickle of a
tear beginning to bead in her eye.  “I’m loosing
four of the best companions I’ve ever had, my
Senshi…” she bit off that word with sadness, and
more sympathy flooded the Prince’s dark features.  
It was hard enough to make them seem not so
frightening; yet, he did it, and well, for he truly
felt her pain.  He, too, had been cut off from
friends and family and more, though in a much more
involuntary way.  He had surpressed these emotions
as he dealt with this Beast curse, a feralness he
had to tame, allowing him no time to experience that
heartache.
 Yet, just watching her, understanding some of that
pain, his own began to rise…
 Immediately came a defense, an idea quite amazing
and grand and it just might work…
 As a secret.
 “Lady, what if I told you that there’s a
reason—besides the regular need I have for you to be
happy—but I can’t tell you right now?”
 She sniffed and stopped, looking up with the glints
of her blond hair reflected in her eyes.  “Do you
mean a…surprise, Prince?  A secret surprise?”
 “Perhaps, Lady,” he replied, wishing that he could
convey the half-smile he felt.  
 She studied him for moments, and mulled over his
words, eyes slowly clearing, a realization coming to
her.  “You honestly wish my happiness, then?” 
 The question caught him as he was tossing back the
last of his food; he swallowed, and his eyes came
down.  They traveled over her half-covered face—her
hair fell down in a silver-blond mass—and her eye,
closed to his view.  The whole set of her face was
as if she had heard something she didn’t quite
comprehend, and was waiting to be told differently. 
In other words, as if she…couldn’t believe it.
  he thought suddenly. 
 
 “Serin, of course I consider your happiness
important,” he replied.  “I would be a fool not to
want to see you smile.  A complete fool.”  He shook
his head and swallowed his rising temper----adding, “And I’m not
partial to being a fool, Lady.  So please—smile and
be happy.”
 She looked up at him, eye opening to be cornflower
blue and shining—a watery shine, he noted—and pushed
back her hair in almost a shy motion, giving him a
smile.  Not full bloom, not truly happy, but it was
a start.
 “Okay,” she said quietly, “I’ll…”
 “You will, Lady—that’s an order,” he replied. 
“Now, come, for I must locate my Generals and
propose an idea to them.”
 “Anything to do with my surprise?” 
 “Perhaps,” he replied.  “Perhaps.”  He stood, and
she followed, the tow of them taking a quick trip to
his solar.  He had shown her his solar, room,
balcony, and some—yet not all—of the passages that
could be used to reach him.  There were very few
forbidden areas to her now—more for the Senshi,
since he did not know nor trust them—yet the ones
considered off limits were so for a good reason. 
They protected this acceptable Silence, for they
included the portraits, seal copies, documents, bits
of lore and history of the Terra family.  What
alarmed him most were these records, and those
portraits; the records because they told who they
were, and the portraits because they revealed what
they were beforehand.  Also, there was more of his
wing cordoned off, and the Generals’
Tower…destruction in one, privacy for the other.
 They came into the Solar together, she having
caught up and taken his arm, giving him a wider
smile.  He bared his teeth back, a frightening
smile, but she had stopped the pangs of fear as soon
as she realized what it was.  He parted with her
about the Golden Table, preparing to summon the
features of his Generals.
 “Are they with your ladies?” 
 “Oh yes.  They keep company with them…I’m assuming
under your orders.” 
 He nodded.  “Unknown quantities must be watched,”
he said.
 “Which explains why you were given Four Guardians!”
 “Q’ar!” Serin called out.  “How are you, Lady
Bird?”
 The falcon colored, hawk sized bird with the deep
blue eyes hopped from its window perch to the
nearest stable rung.  Serin greeted her properly,
stroking her feathers gently from head to tail, and
the bird nodded in reply.  “Fine, fine, Lady Serin,”
she said, nuzzling her hand.  “Though some exercise
would be nice.”
 The Prince growled.  “Q’ar, what are you doing?”
 “Making a suggestion.”
 “The only suggestion for you is to get to your
perch.”
 “Oh, you menace! Serin, look how he treats his best
bird!”
 “Only bird.  Besides, proper hunting birds don’t
talk back.”
 “Proper hunting birds don’t talk, period.  Consider
it an advantage.”
 “Over what?  At least with a real bird, I could
hunt.”
 “And I can’t hunt?”
 “It’s been disputed.”
 Q’ar’s hackles raised, and she clacked her beak
sharply at him.  “That’s low, Prince.”
 “It is my gift.”
 “It isn’t very nice,” Serin said, slightly
confused.  These two bickered like Hiko and Aiko,
but without a true reason.  “After all,” she added,
“this bird did aid in finding me in the forests. 
And, she has been in stasis for…oh dear, how many
years?”
 “Excepting this brief period of freedom, I have
been marbleized and on my perch since the beginning,
when they left the Gifts by the gates,” the bird
stated, voice a touch haughty.
 “Oh,” Serin said, looking to the Prince for
confirmation.  
 The man-beast growled for a moment, then said,
“Yes, ‘tis true, aside from the time Jade had his
trouble with the Rush, and twice more for reasons I
cannot recall.  Accidents, I’d guess.”
 “In other words, a long time!” Q’ar replied.
 “Quiet, bird!”
 “As you wish, Master Wolf!” she retorted in mock
servitude.  He growled again, and Serin covered her
mouth with her hands to hold off her giggles.  The
two had squared off from opposite sides of the
table, and each gripped the edge with fierce
hands/claws, glaring at the other, hair bristling on
him, feathers ruffled on her.  It had to be one of
the oddest—and funniest—sights she had ever seen.
 Finally, unable to stand it, she began to giggle
quietly at first, then louder, and finally the two
of them looked to her in unison, same expression on
both of their faces.
 “A joke, Lady?” Q’ar asked.
 “No, no…you two…” and she began giggling again. 
Now, they exchanged milder glances, puzzlement plain
on their features.
 “Oh, if you could’ve seen yourselves—it was…well,
it…” she paused, and smiled.  “It made me laugh,
Prince.”
 A moment, and then he realized her words. 
“Although I fear I looked ridiculous thanks to this
finch here, the sound of your laughter causes such…”
 “Finch! Finch! I should…” Q’ar roared, and it set
Serin off again to see the bird in such a human
rage.  This time, the Prince added his quiet
laughter, a faint growl that was choked into short
fragments.  The sound made Serin start, and for a
moment concern passed over her face; yet Q’ar,
seeing despite her blue eyed fury, nudged her. 
“’Tis only his laugh, Lady,” she said quietly.  “Not
quite the proper noise for him--he should bray like
an ass.”
 “Push me not, bird; even Serin’s favor will not
save you then,” he shot back.
 “But…wait, I have an idea!” she said, eyes
lighting.  To Q’ar, she asked, “You’re a tracker,
right?  ‘Tis how your skills are best?”
 “Why, of course, Lady.” 
 “And your eyes are keen enough to spot difference
even from a height?  Differences between persons, at
least.”
 “Truly, Lady—I know the track of a mouse from a rat
in the air,” she said.  She nudged a bit closer,
feathers settling roughly back into place.  “Yet,
why ask?” 
 “Simple,” she replied.  To the Prince, she said,
“Why not let her look for your men?  For, as we
know, my laides will be out with them; no one is too
keen on being alone after the incidents.”  She made
but a slight pause, then added, “It will be much
more…interesting then just seeking them out here.” 
She gestured at the table, for the Prince had told
her of its purpose: to keep track of that which was
in his domain.
 Yet despite this explanation, there was more the
the table than she knew…but those are trials for
later chapters.
 He looked down at her carefully, considering the
idea in his mind as he check the sincerity that
backed it.  It only took a moment of quick study; he
needn’t have glanced at the bird, for her
anticipation and hopefulness were scents upon the
air easily sifted out by his nose.   he thought
quietly.  
 He sighed deeply, then said, “Very well, Q’ar, you
may come with.  Maybe we shall see if you have this
ability you claim…or perhaps not.”
 Q’ar sneered—well, as best as she could—and
replied, “Then I shall prove to you, scoffer.  But
for now…”
 “Now we shall have to find your jessies and hood,”
he said.  “Now, where did I…”
 “You are not, Lord Prince!” she screeched out.
 “Oh yes.  A bird, especially one as valuble as you
claim to be, always goes out hooded and jessied. 
You know that,” he said.
 “He is right,” Serin agreed, moving about to stand
by him.  “Yet…yet I think we can do without the hood
this time—I believe Q’ar can be trusted that much.”  
 The bird’s head swiveled between them, and now she
gave a great sigh.  “All right, then,” she said. 
“They’re over here.”
 Fifteen minutes later, a pair stepped out into the
Prince’s hallway, Q’ar jessied to the Prince’s
furred arm.  Serin had takenleave of them to find a
woolen something; ‘twas a little chilly out there,
and gray, though no rain seemed to be on the
horizon.  Though she was held firmly in place, and
low growls greeted ever movement, it didn’t stop her
from analyzing the area about her.  It was a die
hard habit picked up from earlier in her life, when
her form had been her own and her magics not as
filtered.  Yet, being a raptor had in somoe ways
helped her, and so she pierced the darkness about
her to see how things looked here.   she thought, eyes a
suddenly intense blue that broke the darkness.
 Except there didn’t seem to be that much breaking
to do.
 Puzzled, she scrutinized about her with a much
deeper glance, eyes focusing beyond to a corded,
blackened reality, a thick streak of shadowy work
and injustices and spells twisted by their maker. 
It would’ve bmade her nose crinkle, had she still
been able to.  Yet, for once, there was some light
in this domain of magic, a soft, silvery sort of
brilliance which wound closely about some of the
pillars of that awful, dark place.  The light,
though, was somewhat muted; not only was it but a
few simple strands, they were all sunk quite deeply
into those pillars.
 A flick of her head—which earned her a flash of
fang—brought her back to reality; the threat meant
nothing, though, especially considering the light
she saw now.  The halls were usually a deep, gray
color, like ancient stone and decayed matter twisted
into a palette; now, though, that seemed muted,
which not only brightened the wing, but brightened
the mood.
  she thought quietly,  A quirk of
a smile moved her beak, and a warm contentedness
spread through her, making her forget those blasted
jessies.  
 
 “Go, bird, and find the others!” the Prince
commanded, his arm coming up quickly.
 “As you say, my Prince!” she called back languidly,
taking off on deadly wings for this silent hunt. 
The wolf head cocked at her odd words, but then he
shrugged it off and looked back.
 “Oh no, Lady!  Let me get our mounts!” he called
out, coming to assist her in pulling out the large
black he required.  Though it had been a few days,
he dared not touch the dapple; a horse could only
carry him so many times, and it had taken a double
load.  There was something about his magic that
could cause problems, and he didn’t want to risk
another creature.
 “I am perfectly capable of getting a horse,
Proince,” she replied, dusting off her hands.  “I
can tack one up, too, if you’d believe that.”
 “You’ve proved it, Lady,” he replied.  “I will
dispute you no more about that.”
 “You need that, don’t you?”
 “What?” he asked, turning away from the black to
grab the tack for it.  Swiftly, he tugged on its
bridle, and began to work on the saddle, his quick
fingers working in concert with his paralyzing
appearance to ready the animal quickly.
 “Proof,” she replied, allowing him to take out the
other horse, but gathering her own gear.  She had
changed from dress to an extremely comfortable habit
of a soft, strong material she had no name for, as
well as a woolen jacket and a new, bound up
hairstyle.  She had also found gloves that fit her
hands just right, and this he was happy to see; he
knew how soft her hands were.  “You always need some
sort of…well, a test and score, and a category for
it all.” 
 “Pardon, Lady Serin?” he asked, eyes coming about
to lock on her.  
 She made no motion away from the gaze, but
continued with her own tasks.  “Tangebility,” she
finally said.  “Am I right?”
 He thought a moment, then answered, “Yes, Lady,
you’re right.  It is a stabilizing characteristic of
my house, one that seems to have been handed down
with the blood.  I must have some sort of proof, for
otherwise how can I be sure of what is ture and what
is not?  And it is this truth and sureity which are
the foundation of the family I belong to.”
 “Grounded in the earth,” she said quietly.
 “Very much so, Lady,” he said.  “I know your
ability to tack and ride because I have seen the
proof of it—the horse ridden with both, and the lack
of injuries to the rider.  Indeed, by gait and by
smell I could tell the horse’s thoughts—and they
were nought but good.”  He waited until she was
finished, then offered a leg up.  She accepted,
mounted, and as she was messing with the reins he
asked, “Are you going to tell me what happened to
that horse, Lady?” 
 She stared, and the white mare—that same beast she
had commanded the day of her arrival—pranced
nervously beneath her, the scent of the wolf too
close for comfort.  She looked down and away,
ventured a glance, then away again.  “I am not sure
if I am at liberty to tell, Prince,” she replied
uneasily.   she thought. 

 “Lady, trust me on this: the Forest has been my
companion for years, and while I know not all, I
know much.  Do not be afraid,” he said quietly,
gently reaching out to touch her hands.
 She nodded to herself, and swallowed a few times,
before softly saying, “They took it.”
 “They?”
 She looked at him now, and quietly said, “They of
the Forest.”
  rang his thoughts, and quickly he
patted her hand before moving away, finishing his
horse.  “It’s all right, Lady,” he said.  “I
understand…and…” his ears drooped a bit, “I owe you
an apology.”
 “For what, Prince?”
 “For yelling at you…abouit the last animal.  I
cannot fault you, and I shouldn’t have then, knowing
what I know, especially about that area!” He sighed. 
“It wasn’t right…of me.”
 Her eyes widened, and she watched a little awed as
he mounted up on his horse.  She sidestepped the
mare, noting the stud; yet, from her distance, she
said, “It is all right, Prince.  You are already
forgiven…the words are not needed from me.”
 “My thanks, Lady,” he said quietly.  Mentally, he
was amazed;   He cleared his throat and
added aloud, “Shall we find that bird and see where
everyone has disappeared to?”
 “Gladly, Prince,” she replied.
 Calling down Q’ar proved to be more of challenge
than anticipated, as he had never done it before,
the bird usually coming by itself.  Finally, Serin
whistled her down with a high pitch, keening cry;
the bird appeared as if by magic, and swooped down
to perch upon his arm.  Yet, despite this minor
trouble, her directions to Kishi and Arashi were
clean and precise—if a little confusing.
 “They’re where?” Serin asked.
 “In the trees, Lady,” the bird replied.
 “But…”
 “You’ll just have to see, Serin,” the Prince
growled.  “Q’ar may be frustrating, but her words
always have truth.”
 “Thank you, Prince,” Q’ar replied, surprised.
 “Not quite a compliment, bird,” he replied.  “A
fact.  Speaking of which, do you know where the
others are?”
 “I sighted Naosu and Kiri very close to the first
two, on the stream’s edge…not the Rush, Lady, but a
small feeder of it,” she said, adding her words when
Serin’s posture tightened fearfully.  “As to the
other four, I saw them riding together, and I
believe thy were heading towards the gardens.”
 “Makes sense—Hiko and Aiko both enjoy flowers,”
Serin said.
 “Mazes as well?”
 “Why…yes.  Why?”
 The Prince chuckled again, and said, “There are a
few on the grounds—simple, complex, ridden…”
 “A maze ahorse?” What an interesting idea!” she
said, eyes brightening.  “Is there any chance we’ll
see that.”
 “It can be arranged, Lady—but we’ll have to seek
out my Gens first,” he replied, eyes softening.  The
sun played upon her like a fine painter’s brush,
light illuminating her bound silver-blond mass to a
shining heap, yet playing in her eyes with almost an
empathic shadowing ability.  It streamed over her
habit and caught lines of blue and green woven into
the fabric, flashing a curve here, a line here, all
overlapping to create her figure.  She was so fresh,
beautiful, and…he caught himself before his mind
danced off on its own.  “All right?”
 She nodded, then said, “Lady Q’ar?”
 The bird, who had shifted to his cantle, nodded to
her, and it was then that the Prince remembered what
Serin has said.  “Q’ar, wait a moment, for I must
tell you something.”
 “Yes?” 
 He leaned down and whispered what the Lady had
said, and the bird shot back, rocking on her post. 
“Truly?” she whispered.
 “Would I make something like that up?” 
 “No…no…” she replied.  Looking up, she called to
Serin, “You have met the Others, Lady?”
 “Why yes, Q’ar,” she replied, reining her horse
closer so she could talk freely with her.  “Why do
you ask?”
 “I…well, with whom did you talk?” she asked
quietly, her eyes a flickering and unsteady deep
blue.  “Or did you just see them?”
 “Oh no…I spoke with three of them--they were the
Leaders of this part of thw oods, they said—and
their names were…” She squinted briefly in the sun,
trying to recall them.  “Aor…Iyn…and…Res.  Yes, Aor,
Iyn, and Res.”
 “Aor, Iyn, Res.  Yes, they would be…oh dear,” the
bird replied, and the Prince watched stunned as a
change came over the usually vivacious bird.  Her
eyes dimmed, and the normally fluffed out feathers
slicked down, making her appear small, sleek, and
withdrawn.  It was as if a wall was springing up
about her, a shield against something.
 “Are you all right, Lady?” Serin asked, alarm in
her voice.
 “I’m fine, Lady.  Just…memories,” she replied. 
“Call me down after you’ve meet with the…the four. 
I will give you an update on…” She broke off, and
leapt into the air.  She flapped almost desperately
into the sky, her black and white and blue body
flashing across their vision for a moment before
disappearing completely.
 “Is she all right?” Serin asked quietly.  “She
seemed…sad.”
 “She, too, has her secrets, Lady Serin,” he replied
carefully.  “And though she has not bound herself to
be Silent, I feel obligated…to let her tell you
herself.”  His voice nearly stumbled over that; he
prided himself in knowing the histories of all about
him, and all those little facts that could be used
against someone.  It was what made him so GOOD at
what he often did, but…yet…even though he knew the
story of Q’ar, he aslo felt his mouth should stay
shut.  It was a…surprising notion.
 Serin’s eyes widened, but she just nodded, and
reined the mare away.  “Shall we ride?”
 He nodded, and tried to give her a smile.  Somehow,
as if she knew, she smiled back, a subdued smile,
but a smile none the less.  Inside him, something
warmed…and then he nudged his horse, and the two
rode off towards Arashi and Kishi.

 When they arrived, Kishi was hanging upside down
from the tree.  The Prince caught his scent and
noted its textures: a very calm, relaxed note,
underscored by a sort of peace and energy, a bit of
almost frantic wariness; it was a clash of emotions
that pulled him up short.  
 “Arashi!” Serin called out.  “Arashi, where are
you?” Her eyes searched among the leafy trees,
overgrown with jade green leaves and branches so
that it could easily be ascended.  The sunlight
through it cast emerald and hunter green shadows
around, turning the shape hanging from the branch a
pale lime color.  It surprised her at first, but
quickly she realized that she was seeing Kishi.  Her
head cocked at his curious appearance; it appeared
to be a shape, dimly figured, composed of two layers
of color—blue and gold—roughly outlining a blurred
area of person.  There were no features, and very
little could be told from the shape, but it sufficed
for her.  Indeed, there was joy to know she could do
it, though it had taken her long enough.
 “Serin!” Arashi called down, and she looked up,
smiling.  The woman, who had clothed herself in dark
green and brown today, was semi-visible among the
upper limbs of the oak, and it took her a moment for
her eyes to settle.  Finally, she caught her, very
near the top branches.  
 “What are you doing up there, Arashi?” she called.
 “Communing with nature,” she yelled down, laughter
in her voice.
 “I assume you’re somehow responsible for this,” the
Prince said to Kishi, pulling his black up close. 
It sniffed at Serin’s mare, and the dainty animal
shied a little, sidestepping away from its
affections.  Neither really noticed.
 “The meditation, yes,” he replied.  “Being in the
tress?  That was strictly Lady Arashi.”
 “Lady!” he bellowed out.
 Arashi’s sigh fluttered down, and then she quickly
made her way into the lower branches.  Her form
peeked out at them, and she answered, “Yes?”
 “Why the trees?” he asked.  “Is this not a Lady…”
 Serin chuckled, and Kishi hid a smile.  The Prince
darted a look at Serin, and then back to Arashi, who
had a sort of resolute disgust on her face.  “What?”
he asked.  “She is a lady, title born—is she not?” 
 “Oh yes, Prince,” Serin said.  “She is a lady
born—that I vouch for.”
 “She’s just not as orthodox as the rest,” Kishi
added smoothly.  “It’s quite refreshing, in my
opinion.  Also, m’liege, she is a Jovan—and their
court has produced more warriors than embroiderers.”
 “Hmmm,” muttered the Prince, quietly mulling. 
“Lady, perhaps we shall talk later then—but, ‘til
then, my apology for my ignorance.”  He motioned to
Kishi.  “Come, old friend; we must speak.”
 “As you say, my liege,” he replied, easily swinging
up to grip the branch, then flipping down.  Arashi
smiled as his feet touched ground; he had been
working on that for most of the morning.
 “Pardon, Lady,” he said to Serin, but she gave him
a dismissive wave, her focus on Arashi.  The two
turned and headed a little ways off, to a small
copse of pine clumped near the edge, hard needles
interlacing with cones to provide a natural barrier. 
He had not yet decided if it was magic or nature.
 As soon as they were out of sight, Serin looked up
to Arashi with a smile and said, “Up.”  
 Arashi smiled brightly in return, a rare gesture on
her part, then reached out and easily pulled her
from the saddle.  With her help, the two ascended
quickly towards the top of the tree.  When Arashi
felt they were high enough, she set Serin in a crook
and took her own branch.
 “How can you stand him?” Arashi asked, once they
were settled.  “I mean…besides his shape, he’s
kinda…”
 “Yes, he is,” she replied with a smile.  “But I
forgive him for it—he’s been here, alone, for so
many years.”
 “We all can see why,” Arashi muttered.  “He sounded
just like those…” She cut her words, looking out and
away, hiding the swiftly vibrant anger of her eyes
and the veil of watery sadness over that.
 “No, he’s not that bad,” she replied gently,
reaching out to touch her friend’s wrist.  “I have a
feeling he was high before his curse, and that pains
him very much.  Also, he has been alone…”
 “He has his guard!”
 “He has kept himself from his guard, from any life,
since the spell was set.  There is more beast than
human—he fights not only his manner, but what growls
inside him as well.”  Her eyes were softly
sympathetic and wise; it was as if she was opening
herself more than usual.  “That, I understand.”
 “You are much more forgiving than I, Serin.  After
what he said…well, I can barely bite my tongue about
him.  He rankles me,” she replied, voice resigned. 
“But you are you, and I know that your judgement is
more keen than mine.”
 “As your intuitions are more realistic,” she
replied kindly.  “Speaking of that, what is your
intuition about Kishi?  Are you still at each
other’s throats?”
 A fondness took over her cold, viridian eyes, a
softening—almost.  “He is actually all right, Serin. 
I have developed a respect for him—his fighting
abilities are sure, he has a strong sense of duty,
and he is open to suggestions.”
 “Then you brought him out here?”
 She nodded.  “I remembered the trees in the forests
of home…beautiful, tall trees, the smell of pine and
earth and just the woods.”  She sighed quietly,
barely stirring the air about her.  “It used to
relax me, and since he wanted to meditate, I had to
suggest it.  It has soothed me, to sway in the wind
again with a person I know won’t mind.”
  Serin thought, mentally
blinking.   “Do you miss it?”
 “What, home?” She thought for a moment, then shook
her head.  “Nah.  Not much there, ‘sides family.”
 “And Kaze.”
 She flushed, and Serin smiled.   she thought.  “Have you spoken with him?”
 “Just before we left.  He was going to visit
Neptune for awhile, swinging by Pluto and then
Jupiter before going back home.  We talked about
meeting on Io for a day off—just to talk.”  Her eyes
were down, and she was blushing a little, which
caused Serin’s smile to widen.  Tennohsei Kazeno,
the Prince of Uranus, was one of Arashi’s only male
friends—aside from her numerous siblings—and she
often wondered if the two could be—or would be—more. 
As an Outer male, he would understand her; as an
Outer Prince, he would be worthy of her.  It was a
match made in heaven, if you’ll excuse the pun.
 “I’m sorry this happened, then,” she replied
quietly.
 “I am, too, Serin, but for a different reason,” she
replied.  “You’re so precious to us all…”
 “Shush.  You’ll make me worry.”
 Arashi replied not, but gave her Princess a very
soft look.  Serin returned it, remembering their
meeting on the Moon years ago.  She had been hungry
late on night, and had floundered into a kitchen
where Arashi had been taking out some pain or anger
on food.  They had talked for awhile as Arashi made
food and Serin ate it; by the end of the night, they
were firm friends, even though their names had not
been exchanged.  When they actually met—for the
Princess and her guard were not formally introduced
until the guard had been together for a year—it was
a pleasant surprise, a wonderful shock, to find that
she knew all of them.  Their friendship had only
tightened, until she and her guard were almost
telepathic, bonded to each other.
 Now, though, she was going to have to break that
bond.  And for the first time, she realized how hard
that was going to be, not only on them, but on her.
  she thought,  

 “You wished to speak with me, my liege?”
 “Yes,” he replied, dismounting.  He patted the
black, then motioned the man further into the copse. 
“It’s about Serin.”
 “Is something wrong with the Lady?  She seemed
fine, and I sensed nothing troubling.”  Although
Kishi’s power lay in the stars, in the universe
itself, he was not like Jade and able to sense
illness; still, he had refined his abilities to
generalities, a black or white, good or bad sort of
thing.
 “No, no…not now.  But her ladies will be leaving,
and that will be a problem for her.  And…it worries
me.”  His voice dropped a bit, and Kishi’s eyebrows
rose.  The Prince expressed much, but rarely
concern; he usually took such things in stride.
 “What do you propose?  Do you plan to hold her
ladies with her?”
 “I cannot do that—they owe me nothing; Serin’s
promise was extracted under a boon, and even that
may not have been true and right.”  He sighed, a
heavy, brash sigh.  “No, I cannot make them stay,
nor truly ask them to do so.”
 “So…”
 “I’m thinking of a temporary measure.  Actually, a
nice way to end that night.”
 Kishi looked at him for a moment, cast back, and
thought.  “You aren’t planning a party, are you?”
 “Yes, in a way.”
 “What way?” His voice was curious, and a tad
suspicious.  
 “A ball.”
 Kishi fell silent, attempting to keep his mouth
from dropping.  Finally he rasped, “A ball, my
liege?” 
 “Rush castle was famous for them.”
 “But…well…” His thoughts were surprisingly jumbled. 
On one hand, it was an excellent idea—they had not
had fun like that in forever, perhaps not since that
night they’d lost their form—but could it truly
work?
 “Yes?” A low tone, almost as if he were inviting
trouble.
 “Would it really work, though?” Could you honestly
persuade the Lady to forget her travails and enjoy
the night?”
 The Prince gave him a thoughtful look, blue eyes
mightly keen, and he wondered briefly if he had
overstepped some boundry.  He had been extremely
sensitive before these ladies showed up; perhaps…
 “Lady Serin is a capable, adaptable woman.  I
believe that she will be able to enjoy a final night
in good company,” he replied.
 “Then it has merit, and my support,” he replied
firmly, then smiled.  “So, why did you come to me?”
 “Because her ladies need escorts, and I wanted to
check and makes sure there would be no objections,”
he replied.  “I…have realized that it would be
improper to ask you to accompany them without
first…checking with you.  For all I know, they are
horrendous witches.”
  he
thought incredulously.   He mentally pinched
himself, found he was not dreaming, and took a
breath.  The air had the same quality; the universe
still felt the same; the Prince, then, had been
truly nice for once.
 “Well?” A touch of impatience.
 “Ryu truly speaks for us…but I believe all will
consent.  These ladies, by the way, are
interesting…but none appear to be witchy.”  His eyes
twinkled at the sudden thought of Arashi in a ball
gown, and he added, “Don’t announce it yet, though. 
It was be better as a surprise.”
 “Agreed,” the Prince replied.
 The two men began to move out of the copse, their
conversation flowing to a halt as their courses were
set.  The Prince mounted up, and looked back to his
General.  “Remember to keep an eye out, Kishi, not
only for yourself but for the Lady.  Consider her
under you protection.  We need no more injuries.”
 “I think not, my liege,” he replied.  “She’s as
capable as any of us—and she won’t fall.”
 “Quite an ecletic bunch, aren’t they?” he mused
lowly.
 “Would you prefer them any other way, Prince?”
They…well, it’s refreshing,” Kishi replied, a little
smile playing over his face.  “You couldn’t take it
if Serin was as…ladyish…as some of the ones we’ve
met, m’lord.”
 “I…perhaps,” he admitted, and Kishi grinned.  “Yet,
it take some adjustment, my friend.”
 “Of course, my liege.”
 He nodded, then kicked the horse into a bouncy
trot.  It had been difficult to ride a horse after
the change—his hips were differently made, and he
couldn’t grip as before, plus what his scent did—but
he managed.  It had taken practice and some
creativity, but he had done it.  Sometimes, though,
he wished for wings.  Occasionally, the thought
flitted across his mind to drop to his “hands” and
let himself run, yet he shied away from that with a
passion.  It wasn’t that he could be human; he
needed to be human, or the beast without would take
over.  That black witch of hell that had twisted him
so had built in a delibrate instability—he had to
keep it together.
 So the yip that came out of him when he caught the
scent of Serin up in the tree caused his eyes to
snap an angry blue, and Kishi to query his health. 
“Fine,” he replied, suddenly tense.  “Lady Serin,
come down!” 
 “Just a minute, Prince,” she called back.  “It’s
quite lovely—could you come up?”
 “The paws are red fox, not grey; I cannot climb
trees,” he replied, voice slightly disgusted. 
“Otherwise…”
 “How did she get up there?” Kishi wondered, moving
to his left.
 “One never knows,” he replied, dismounting.  “I’ll
assume Arashi had a hand in it, though.”
 “More than you know,” came the waft of Serin’s
voice, laced with giggles.  
 “Yea, assume such,” Arashi muttered softly, then
looked to her lady.  “I should go first to insure
your safety.”
 Serin shook her head.  “No, Arashi, I’m all right—I
can climb trees well.  After all, you taught me.”
 “Yes, Serin, but…” She stopped, and looked up, her
sense aflare with tingles.  The day was cloudy, yes,
but she had scented no rain--why was there something
like lightning flaring across her mind?  It didn’t
bode well.
 “Arashi?” Serin quiered.
 “Princess,” she whispered lowly, startling her. 
“Go…now.” 
 “What?”
 “GO!”
 Needing not a word more from her guardian, she
quickly began to clamber down the tree.  Now she
understood Arashi’s first warning, for though
climbing up means easy placements of hands and feet,
climbing down is done mostly by touch and not sight. 
Plus, the bark did not help a bit.  Yet the need she
had felt in Arashi’s voice, that had screamed to her
from her eyes, was the only motivator she need. 
Soon she managed to get to the bottom, and from
there she beckoned the Prince over to help her down. 
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly as he helped her
down, trying to ignore the sudden fluxes of heat
that hit her as his soft hands took their firm grip.
 “Where’s Arashi?” Kishi asked.  “Is she staying
up?”
 “Coming down!” she called, and a rain of bark and
small leaves followed.  “Very quickly!” The shifting
souknd of a person clambering down the trunk
followed, and several branches moved as she grabbed
on for holds.  The senses in her head were clanging,
and she knew that something was very wrong
weatherwise, in some way or another.  It prevented
her from concentrating completely on hand, foot, or
branch holds, yet her body senses saved her
instinctively, and she was able to acoid several
near falls.
 Suddenly, a stiff gust of wind smashed into the
tree, a breeze at the ground that mussed hair and
fur and caused the horses to snort anxiously.  In
the tree, Arashi was reaching for a branch, nearly
ready to swing down to the ground, when it hit. 
Immediately her kinthestetic sense went dead,
affected by too many varibles at once. 
Consequently, she missed.  Her head smacked a
branch, and she fell.
 As if by magic—which is probably was, though Fate’s
type and not the normal—Kishi looked up to see if he
could spot her.  He did, and immediately moved to
catch her, arms taking on a sheen of energy to hold
her weight.  To Serin, who happened to be watching,
it appeared quite graceful and easy; really, it took
more than was seen.  The landing for her was not
fun, as it jammed her head and managed to smack a
bruise from yesterday; yet the warmth of the energy
he held, and the gentle way he cradled her for a
moment before setting her down, calmed these pains
and the anger that rose.  
 “Arashi!” Serin called, breaking away from the
Prince to go to her.  “Are you all right?”
 “I hit my head,” she growned.  “But that shouldn’t
be too bad, eh Kishi?” She looked to him, blinking,
eyes bright.  He almost had shape to her now, a sort
of sizzle that worked a star shape—very faint, but
there.  She shook her head--bringing on an
additional pain—but it only faded to a glimmer. 
 she thought,
rubbing the spot gingerly.
 “Yea, nothing,” he replied quietly, voice soft in a
way that made Serin look up.  She wished she could
see his eyes now, for she sensed it would
interesting—especially for Arashi.  As it was, he
still held her close to him, as if reassuring
himself that she was there.
 “What happened?” the Prince asked.  “You said she
wouldn’t fall.”
 She looked up, and offered him a look of irritation
tempered by the wince of pain in her eyes.  “I’m
fine,” she replied.  “Right, Kish?”
 “Kishi?”  It sounded more a command, and Arashi’s
eyes narrowed.
 “She’s fine, m’liege.  As said, a bump on my
head—nothing drastic,” he replied, his eyes never
straying from her.
 “All right,” he said, eyes tracing her ruthlessly
for other injuries, nose seeking any additional
hurts.  “But if you hurt—or feel faint, should
ladies of Jove ever do that—see Naaosu, or at least
go inside.”  Wind stirred again, ruffling about them
all, carrying a scent not unlike rain to his nose. 
He looked away from the two to Serin, noting a
curious look in her eye; “I smell moisture, Lady,”
he said.  “Come—let us find Naosu and Kiri before a
storm rolls in.”
 She let her eyes fall on him now, and nodded.  “Do
we need Q’ar?”
 “No—she has given us the directions already,” he
said.  “It’ll take us but a moment to get there.” 
He assisted her onto her mare, then mounted up on
his black, reining towards her.  She adjusted her
seat, nodded briefly to him, and the two of them
left at a smooth, long trot.  
 Both watched them go, then looked back to each
other.  The height difference sensed between
them—which left the top of her head about at his
mouth—suddenly seemed negliable.  They wee close,
very close, he holding her waist, her hands on his
shoulders, the natural position for a woman just put
down.  Yet his breath caught suddenly, as their eyes
met across a barrier, as if she could look through
that one way mirror abou thim.  Her eyes crinkled
and sparked, vividly deep, a living green he was
sinking into slowly, slowly…
 “Are you all right?” he asked quietly.
 
 “Yea,” she replied, voice hazy.  “And you?”
 
 “I didn’t fall out of a tree.”
 <…comfortably, on her waist…>
 “But you caught me.  Doesn’t that,” she paused to
move her hands to his arms, “hurt any?  You’re
strong, but…” She trailed off into quietness as a
shudder rippled his frame.
 <…pure as forest, as healthy grass, plants, as
emeralds…as jade…>
 “A little, Lady Arashi.  A little.  But I was
prepared to catch you.”
 <…so warm…so comfortable…>
 She looked down, and to his surprise the semblance
of a blush rose to her face.  “Thank you,” she
murmured.  “For catching me.”
 <…or nephrite…>
 “Lady, do not thank me for doing something to help
you,” he said, voice as warm as sunlight.
 <…electrically warm…>
 “Isn’t that rude, though?” she asked, grinning a
bit.
 “Not if its a pleasure,” he replied.
 She began to laugh, then stopped.  “It’s a pleasure
to catch me?” she asked quietly.
 “It’s a pleasure to be with you.”
 In that moment, both seemed to mentally gasp, she
looking up at him with a face slightly contorted, he
looking down at her in hidden disbelief.
 <…TOO green!>
 <…TOO warm!>
 They drew apart as one, a mutual disconnection, she
to rub her arms, he to quickly tie back his hair. 
The wind had come up again, a chill breeze scented
with some unfamiliar and unpleasant.
 “Well…” he began.
 “Wanna swim?”
 “What?!”  
 “I just wanted to make a suggestion,” she replied,
a little sheepish.  “But I guess it’s a little
cold…”
 “Why don’t I take you on the trails?” he said. 
“Not the ones by the Rush either,” he added quickly.
 “Then to where?”
 He smiled to himself.  “Ever been out to the Jade
Cliffs?”  At her negative nod, he shook his head. 
“It’s something everyone who comes to Rush Castle
has to do.”
 “Is it long?  Hard?”  Her voice was hopeful.
 “A little of both, really.”
 “Then what are we waiting for?  Let’s go!” she
said, and he chuckled lowly.  
 “All right, all right…if you’re sure…”
 “Yes, let’s go!” she replied.
 He chuckled again, but led on up the trail, thoughts straight.  Or at least he thought,
though one has to wonder why he chose to take her to the JADE cliffs…

    Source: geocities.com/soho/gallery/8281/anime