Solar Revolution

Saturday, March 28^th

Celeste felt awkward in her mother’s home. Even though it was luxurious and had the same style of décor as all of their previous temporary homes. Mom always wanted a permanent place to stay. She hated always being uprooted. They used to argue about whether or not it was good for me. Even though I didn’t often get a chance to make close friends, I loved traveling to exotic places. I just wasn’t that good at making close friends period at that point in time. I’m still struggling to make close friends. The gang is the only group of people I can just hang out with or talk seriously with. But that is primarily because I’ve been best friends with Mina and we all are senshi. But maybe after I reconcile with what happened a year ago, then I’ll be able to make close friends. Still, this house keeps reminding me how we are no longer a family.

Celeste walked into the kitchen where her mother and father were waiting to have brunch with her. The meal comprised of fresh cut fruits, scrambled eggs, and cucumber sandwiches. It was a pleasant experience, despite a little bit of tension. However, it made Celeste ache to have her parents together again. The conversation was light, normal questions about how schoolwork and work have been, how it has been living in the new homes. And there was the good news that Celeste's illness had finally abated.

Jasmine Aglaia, Celeste’s mother, asked, “So honey, what are you going to do today?” Celeste shrugged as she nonchalantly replied, “Not much. Going to go around to our old hangouts and remember all that had happened. I’d rather due this today, so tomorrow I can dedicate my time being there for his mother.” Julius Lazarus Aglaia, Celeste’s father, asked, “Do you want any company today?” Celeste shook her head. “Nah. I wouldn’t do much good as company, and it would detract from my purpose. Now,” Celeste said as standing out of her seat, “I’m going to take a quick shower and then be on my way.”

Later, Celeste bladed down to the place where it all started: the Bladium.

***

2nd week of December, one year ago

Start playing song: “Sk8er Boi” performed by Avril Lavigne.

Celeste had convinced her acquaintances (not friends, they just hung out within each others’ presence) that the Bladium would be a great place to spend a cool, crisp Saturday afternoon. The Bladium was an absolutely amazing place to do something active. There was a roller skating rink, roller hockey, indoor soccer, volleyball, basketball, an obstacle course for blading and boarding and biking, and a marvelous gym. While there, Celeste and her acquaintances spotted a group of guys that were doing some extreme tricks with skateboards, bikes, and blades on the obstacle course. It was soon obvious they were two groups competing, four on four. The way it was obvious because one group all had on green t-shirts and the other ones wore solid black. Celeste was truly amazed as she watched them perform all sorts of amazing acrobatic feats. Whoa, that guy just did a 540! This is so cool. I think it’s now the green team’s turn. Now that was a sweet jump. I don’t think he’ll be able to finish that flip. Ohh… total wipeout. Is he okay? Yeah, the cute blader from the black team is helping him out. So I guess this is just friendly competition rather than intense rivalry. That’s cool, them doing this for fun rather than to settle a grudge. Only then did Celeste notice her acquaintances had gone on to the skating ring.

She bladed over to the area. She warmed up by blading around the rink a few times. Then she got serious and started speeding in fast circles around the rink. Her acquaintances tried once or twice blading with her, but they just couldn’t keep up and she had no intention of slowing down for anyone. It was such an adrenaline rush, going at intense speeds, moving only by her own strength, being unable to be matched by anyone. But there was soon a subtle challenge as the blader from the black team that helped the guy up skated besides her. He was blading fast to catch up with her and match her speed. She slowed down a little and skated backwards to face him. “May I help you?” she asked politely.

Even though he dressed like a typical skater, his face didn’t look like one. Maybe because his face was clean cut, and his hair wasn’t shaggy. Or maybe because he had such an angelic face. Hazel colored eyes sparkled mischievously as he asked, “You seem to enjoy speeding. Wanta race?” Celeste thought about it, then asked sweetly, “Will you go easy on me?” His smile showed a nice set of white teeth (though one of the canines was crooked and slightly chipped) and a kind mouth, despite his smile being smug, “Not a chance. I’m not going to give you anything less than everything I’ve got. Besides, that would be givin' you an unfair advantage. So you in?” Celeste nodded, “But I first want to know what your name is? It is generally a good thing to know who it is I’ve beaten.”

He easily accepted her boasting and just as easily gave her his name. “Jonathan Xenth.” He stuck out his hand and she shook it as she said, “Jonathan, it is nice to meet you. I’m Celeste.” Many people would have found it weird that he gave his last name and she didn’t, but Jonathan didn’t push her to tell him. “Likewise, Celeste.” Their hands returned to their sides, and they skated together to the end of the rink. Jonathan talked to the Disc Jockey, who asked everyone to clear the rink. Good thing I don’t mind playing to an audience, Celeste thought to herself.

Appropriately, some good racing music was played as they prepared to skate. “Twenty times down and back, gotta touch the orange cone at both ends to count. ‘Kay?” Celeste just nodded, quickly stretching and getting ready to go. Celeste had never been one to turn down a challenge. The Disc Jockey counted over the loud speakers, “Get ready! Get set! Go!” Both of them were pushing themselves to get a good start and possibly the lead. Celeste's legs pumped and set a rhythm which her arms and heart matched. It was hypnotic, and Celeste found her mind detached as she bladed on. She didn't push herself quite all out this early on, knowing she would need that crucial energy later on. As she approached the other end, she let herself glide, so it would be easier to reverse directions. Jonathan was just a touch ahead of her, but Celeste was far from worried. She always did better when she had to work herself up from behind. She circled the cone and touched it. Even though this meant she bladed that much farther, it also meant she didn't lose momentum by stopping and turning.

Since this was a race of speed, there was no breath to be wasted on taunts, nor could either one afford to look at their opponent. Sure this was a race just for fun, but both were serious competitors. And both held the utmost contempt for cheaters. That defeats the point of races. If you don't want to race to see who is the truly better racer, then why bother racing? The kinds of wins achieved through underhanded means are hollow wins. And it is worse than a lost, since you would never know if you could have won without cheating. Celeste world had narrowed to her thoughts, the rink, her blades, and the boy named Jonathan that was seen through her peripheral vision. The music that could be felt through her heartbeat, the crowd watching the race, the buzzing noise that was associated with large facilities such as this, all of these were only passively observed; and only then in the most minute sense possible for someone as observant as Celeste. She pumped her legs hard, knowing that saving too much energy for the end would make her fall behind. It always amazed Celeste how no matter how hard she pushed herself in the beginning, she somehow managed to muster the strength to finish all out. Both Jonathan and Celeste glided around the cones at the other end rather than stop and turn around. Though the latter would have been less distance, the former kept their momentum going.

Celeste's relished in the rush this gave her. Going as fast as she could under her own power was her intoxication of choice. This was when she felt she could outrun her troubles and be free of any emotional baggage. Celeste glided around the orange cone the last time for her final sprint. She pumped her legs, swung her arms, crouched low so she could get the advantage. Every iota of energy and concentration went into this effort. But Jonathan was matching her pace, pushing his limits just as far as her.

Somehow Celeste mustered one last burst of energy to touch the cone.

Right after Jonathan had placed his hand on the cone. He won, and Celeste had come in second.

She didn't think of it as a loss, however. Celeste didn't believe in everything being two extremes such as win and lose. She believed in the middle range. Besides, she had been beaten fair and square, so had nothing to complain about. The Disc Jockey announced, "Looks like the young man, Jonathan Xenth, is the winner. That was a good race everyone. Now let's get back to the fun. Time for redlight, greenlight. Winner gets a pass good for one free admission. So let's get everyone back on the rink."

As the other skaters filed back onto to rink, Celeste and Jonathan hung over the wall, trying to catch their breaths. One of the busboys, a scrawny teenager with a red zit-scarred face and bleach blonde hair and beady eyes and oversized ears, gave them a water each. "On the house," his changing voice said, cracking on the word house. How generous of them, considering how the price is only ten cents each. They just use tap water, and customers have to pay for the cups when drinking fountains are all over the place, she cynically thought.

Jonathan voiced her exact sentiments. "We-uhr giv-uhn th-uh equiv-uhlancy -uhf 20¢. I-uh f-eel so-uh ah-nored." Celeste wheezed "'xactly." They gasped and wheezed a bit more. They leaned heavily against the wall as they dragged theirselves out of the rink and into the snack area.

"J-uhst wann-uh collapse," Jonathan admitted. "But ba-d for-uh m-uhscles," Celeste reminded him. They sat down after five more minutes, both collapsing into the chairs.

Finally breathing was back to normal, though they were bone tired. Coversationally, Jonathan commented, "You sure are one helluva speed demon. Where did you learn to skate like that?" "The faster I go, the more my mind escapes. Sometimes it feels that if I go fast enough, I can outrun the cycles of time." She abruptly halted, realizing she said something abnormal. But Jonathan was such a receptive audience, something she rarely encountered, that she had just stopped censoring her mouth. "I apologize Jonathan, that must have sounded weird."

He shook his head at her compulsion to apologize. "I found it interesting. It just shows you have more depth that those shallow glamor gals you hang with." He expected her to stick up for her "friends", but didn't hold his breath for it. He mentioned, "But that is an interesting term, 'cycles of time.' I always thought of time as linear, starting in the past and going on for infinity."

"That is something only modern cultures believe. Many of the ancient cultures believed time went in cycles, where the gods would create the universe, it would deteriorate somewhat, and then there would be a battle between good and evil. Afterwards, the universe would be recreated. The Scandinavians called this Ragnarok. I find it hard to believe that if time started an eternity ago, that humankind has evolved only this far. Not that I believe earth is the only planet with sentient life."

"So," Jonathan commented, " I take it you believe in little green men." "On some planet, I'm sure there is. Probably because they have photosynthetic skin. Seriously, life is bound to evolve elsewhere, just that the life forms and cultures aren't likely to mirror our own. For example, I doubt on a water-planet that the corresponding life forms would resemble humans. We would be horribly adapted to that kind of life. Most people are so arrogant of the superiority of the human race that no other planet would dare create life. Sure we've progressed to understand that the sun doesn't revolve around our planet, but our self image hasn't had many more humbling revelations." He nodded thoughtfully, and softly muttered, "An interesting theory. I need to give it some thought."

Then louder and more impish he demanded, "You still never answered where you learned to blade like that." Celeste was reluctant to respond. Jonathan didn't push her to answer now or demand why she was reluctant. This made her more inclined to respond. "My dad is a photographer, and he had this photo shoot with extreme sports athletes. He was suppose to cover the X-games for this big sports magazine, and wanted to get some photos of the individual athletes doing their thing ahead of time. That way he could get what everyone would consider the best takes of their favorite tricks. Between takes some of the athletes were bored and decided to teach me some stuff, such as tricks for blading fast and doing cool flips. And since I travel all of the time with my parents, I tend to have loads of time to practice."

"What does your mom do?" Celeste responded a little more eagerly, "She is the vet and animal trainer for most of my dad's shoots. She was going to be a doctor, but got irritated having to deal with all of the whining, both from the patients and the patients' families. But she loves animals, and this way she is able to be productive while being with my dad." " Wow, they must have a really loving relationship to manage that." Celeste neutrally responded, "yeah, loving." She then covered it up by asking, "And what do your parents do?" "My dad is a sports writer and is the sports guy on the local news. And my mom is a math teacher at the high school I'll be attending next year. Boring compared to your all-so glamorous life." Celeste glared, "My life is far from glamorous." Jonathan, undaunted, responded, "It is compared to my life." His pager went off at that point. "Celeste, I gotta go. But I hope I'll see you around here some time." "Ditto. See ya."

And Jonathan, so far one of the few normal teenagers Celeste had met who would listen to her bizarre ideas, left her alone to her world of shallow materialism and bitter competition. Celeste hated the little social circles that would associate with her, for they came from elitist families and considered her to be part of their world. The average teenager automatically assumed she was part of that world, from her nice clothes and expensive gadgets and her parents' occupations. Except my mom isn't some rich trophy wife and actually is trying to make a difference in the world. Jasmine Aglaia spent much of her free time volunteering at animal shelters, working with anti-animal cruelty organizations, and many "Save These Animals Foundations". She didn't do these because they were good for her image or because she felt obliged to do so. Jasmine authentically wanted to work with these organizations and authentically felt like she made a difference. And Jasmine didn't just donate money and stand back. She would get her hands dirty by actually helping the animals herself, would spend hours volunteering in offices, would make hundreds of phone calls, would organized fundraising events.

Sure, she could have done this for organizations that help the less fortunate humans, but Jasmine didn't want to. Celeste was like her mother in that neither really felt entirely comfortable around people. Celeste just hated being around big groups of people she didn't know.

But Jasmine, who was quite open-minded when it came to new possibilities, found many people's viewpoints so confining. She didn't feel comfortable talking about the everyday type stuff like where the family would travel for vacation. Most people found it odd that the Aglaia family's idea of a vacation meant sticking around in one of the areas they considered familiar, instead of traveling to some unfamiliar area. The Aglaias did that too often for business. Jasmine preferred talking about history, psychology, theology, philosophy, mythology, physics, literature, archaeology; anything but the little tediums of everyday life. That you discussed with family, who it affected, not people you barely knew. This made her more inclined to be with animals, who weren't so petty. Julius Aglaia preferred these deeper conversations as well, but could play the game of shallow idiocies as well as any master.

Celeste had little patience for these little social games, finding them too round about and inconsequential. Whenever Celeste said anything, it was met with tolerating false smiles and frivolous words that may have been appropriate had they been sincere. But Celeste had nowhere else to go, for it required staying in an area for a while to make true friends. With the status-obsessed debutantes, as long as you were rich, had nice clothes, plenty of connections, and class, you could remain within their presence.

"Oh Celeste, honey, there you are! We were looking all over for you," gushed Divina. You know very well I was hanging out with Jonathan. But, of course, he falls under the category of "nasty pile of street slime." And we spoiled aristocrats would never associate with him, a kind human being who knows how to listen. It is an absolutely inconceivable thought, right Divina, honey?

But Celeste knew better than to speak her mind to them. Divina and her little glamour girl club were the only elitists Celeste could convince to come to the Bladium. "It's a great way to show off your birthday presents," Celeste had told them this morning. Divina's birthday had been a week ago, and the family was going to treat her and ten friends to a weeklong cruise to Mexico, as soon as Christmas vacation hit in a week. Divina had also got a designer workout outfit (a frivolous concept) and new pair of top of the line roller blades, among numerous other gifts. Celeste didn't particularly care for cruises, but she was starving for friends of some sort, even shallow brats like Divina. And Celeste knew that she had to stay on Divina's good side in order to be included in one of those ten spots. Otherwise, all the other socialites would snub their noses at her.

"Oh, I've just have been sitting here, catching my breath." "Oh my god Celeste, you are sweating! That means your new ensemble is ruined. You poor thing," whimpered Elation, Divina's current best friend. Celeste could tell they were ready to leave, and did not want to hear them whine about how they needed to get out of this second class building. "I'll throw it in the wash," Celeste responded without thought as she changed into her highly uncomfortable, but highly fashionable, suede boots. "You mean you are going to wear it again?" demanded a shocked Genuine, who was anything but. (Who the hell would give their kids such ridiculous names?) Divina said to Genuine, "She means she'll send it to the dry cleaners, honey." And to Celeste she commented, "You know how most can't be trusted, but I have the number for this marvelous guy who always gets the stains and stench out without ruining the fabric. Honey, believe me when I say he is the absolute best." Celeste appeasingly said, "Doubtless, for I do believe you. However, I think the washing machine will do just fine." Divina's mouth went into a silent "O." "Are you sure the maid will be able to get it sanitary in the wash?" Elation asked. "No, I think I'll be able to get it clean myself." The other girls found this to be a quaint novelty, reusing clothes that had not been sent to the dry cleaner nor washed by a maid. Someone please scramble my brains if I ever become this empty-headed.

***

Saturday, March 28^th

Celeste went into the Bladium and started blading faster and faster in the rink. She kept having the futile hope that a hazel-eyed, hazelnut-haired, impish boy would catch up to her and challenge her to a race. But that wasn't going to happen this time. Celeste raced as fast as she could, hoping to go faster than time, so she could step outside of it and go back to that other time. Now Celeste knew it was possible, should she convince Trista, but also knew she had no more right than the next person to mess with what happened. Time's fabric was too tenuous to strain with something so frivolous to the greater good. So she bladed on in tighter and tighter circles, trying to get hold of her emotions. Still, her eyes blinked furiously as they turned red.

Stop playing song

***

1st week of January, one year ago

Celeste had ended up going to the cruise. She was in Divina's good grace because she had bought Divina a bunch of "chick flicks" on DVD for her birthday party on the cruise. Celeste didn't hit her parents for the cash, having earned the money herself doing odd jobs. Celeste had a good time, loving all the sunlight and the dancing that went on at night on the cruise. She didn't let Divina know that she had twice as many guys approach her as the rest of the girls combined. Celeste put all of the boys' numbers in her electronic day planner she brought everywhere.

Now she was getting dressed up for Elation's debutante ball (Divina said she refused to have hers until May at the earliest, wanting it to be at the family's private beach.) Elation's father was one of the CEOs for several of the major broadcasting stations. And of course, loads of celebrities were expected to attend Elation's party. Celeste was at the studio, because Darlene, the only makeup artist both Mr. and Mrs. Aglaia would use, had agreed to do her hair and makeup. Darlene was a family friend, and adored Celeste and her parents. And Celeste knew she could always confide in the sweet 43 year-old lady. Celeste finished putting on all the subtleties of her gown and jewelry and walked downstairs.

Her father was finishing up the photo shoot, something for some soda company. The girls in the shot weren’t big named models. Julius Lazarus Aglaia preferred more everyday girls, who had looks fitting to his current project’s purposes. However, many of the girls would become famous after being in one of her father’s stunning photos. Celeste truly admired how her father could capture such amazing things in a single photo, managing to tell a whole story with a single image. He was great at videotaping as well. There was just something about him that created magic with cameras. This time, however, the girls were up-starting models, waiting for their big break. The soda company had been adamant about using actual models this time. Let’s see, Melinda is sleeping with any male model or photographer she can get her claws on. Jerica snorts cocaine, and is on the verge of bankruptcy, having spent all her cash on plastic surgery and her addiction. And Donna and Joanne both are willing to try any and every drug. If I’m not mistaken, both of them have AIDS, if not from sharing needles, then from sharing beds. And then there is Mystik.

Celeste didn’t dare even think to herself what she knew was true. Instead she continued on to the little room where Darlene worked her magic. As Celeste walked on, she saw her mother grooming the golden retrievers that were suppose to be in the shoot. Those who didn't know her would think she looked perfectly normal. But Celeste noticed the frantic gestures, Jasmine's hands not knowing quite what to do with themselves. Jasmine could have easily been a model, with gorgeous thick waist-length black hair, big stormy gray eyes, high cheekbones, a kind smile, perfect eyebrows, and thick eyelashes. Her medium colored skin had great natural coloring that didn't require makeup to look beautiful, her pale freckles always proudly shown. Now her eyelids were slightly puffy, with bags under her beautiful eyes. The smiles that once easily came to her mouth and eyes had a tired cast. And then there were the needle marks that marred her athletic arms.

Celeste didn't want to know what drugs it was her mother was taking. It made little difference. She didn't have any hard evidence to corner her mother into quitting, and Julius Aglaia was too busy with Mystik to make any effort. Celeste remembered vaguely that Mystik's real name was Misty Daniels, and was from the middle of nowhere in the Midwest. It didn't matter. Mystik embodied the troubles Celeste had with her family due to the fashion industry. Celeste impulsively lifted her forearm up and pushed back the long sleeves of her dress just a little. She traced the veins on her right wrist with her left hand. Since it was winter, she could afford to where long sleeves to cover her wrists. For like her parents, Celeste too had a dark secret. Unlike them, however, no one else knew her secret. The veins of her wrist made her think of rivers of blood flowing into the ocean of her life-force. Sometimes it was comforting to divert a little bit of the rivers. But, not now.

Celeste rolled her sleeves back down and went to Darlene to fix her hair and makeup. This was something she rarely took advantage of, for Celeste was perfectly capable of dealing with her makeup and hair. But she couldn't compare to Darlene when it came to putting up the mass of black hair into elegant coils with gold wire, and styling the blonde of her hair into soft waves that didn't get in her face. Celeste's gown was a dark red v-neck with gold and black rhombuses along the sides and had solid black sleeves, which was perfectly complemented by the gold wire taming her black tresses.

Celeste was soon perfectly ready, and was given a ride to the debutante ball by her mother. All the Aglaias had been invited, but Celeste didn't bring her parents upon finding out that Elation and Divina wanted them just for the sake of weaseling in a photo shoot. It had absolutely infuriated her. Shortly they reached Elation's party, which was held on the family yacht. Celeste gracefully walked out of the car and thanked her mother.

Celeste walked confidently onto the yacht's runway. A man checked her name off on the guest list, and Celeste strutted in. Elation was welcoming the guests, as was only fitting. "Welcome Celeste! I'm ecstatic that you made it! Is your father with you?" Elation gushed. Celeste fought back the temptation of snarling and civilly responded, "I'm afraid he couldn't make it. You know how the fashion business is. Busy, busy, busy. He's tied up with a major project." Elation was sincere, for once, when she expressed disappointment. Celeste then entered the rest of the party. Quickly Celeste discovered it was going to be boring. Everyone was too busy making calculated conversation and being seen that there was little eating and dancing going on. Celeste mingled for a little bit, having her patience tried several times when there was such disappointment that the Julius Lazarus Aglaia hadn't made it. Celeste dropped off her gift for Elation on a set of huge tables designated for this sole purpose.

"Good gracious, her bratliness sure has swindled numerous gifts!" a sophisticated looking young gentleman said crudely. Celeste responded, "Don't correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't it considered bad taste to refer to the hostess as a brat?" He gave her a considering look as he responded, "I suppose, but I believe I have the right to call her a brat. Elation is my baby sister." "I'm so sorry." "For me or for her?" "You got to figure that one out on your own. By the way," she went on as she extended her hand, "I'm Celeste." He accepted her hand, and instead of giving it a shake, he kissed the back of it and bowed his head. "It is an honor to meet you, Celeste. I am Reginald."

Reginald then looked around cautiously and softly spoke, "Can you keep a secret?" "When it is better kept a secret, yes." He slightly arched an eyebrow in response. "At ten, after all the frenzy is dying down here, I'm holding a party at my parent's place. I'm sure this tidbit has caught your interest." She casually grinned. "I'll think about it. Though," she baited, "I don't believe I'd have transportation." Reginald took the bait, "Oh, I'd be ecstatic to give you a ride." "I accept. Meet me at the entrance at a quarter till." She straightened her back as she dismissively said, "Now I must go mingle, because there are sure to be numerous attendees desiring my attention."

No sooner than ten steps, her prediction came true. She tolerated chit-chatting with Mrs. Falcnier and her two nieces, Mimsy and Mimi. Gretchen Falcnier, Mrs. Falcnier's daughter, didn't do much talking. As she was conditioned to do. Gretchen was one of the few people here who Celeste actually was fond of. "Celeste, you should really convince your parents to join us at our cabin," Mrs. Falcnier gushed. Not if I can help it. Celeste wanted to smack Mimsy when she forced out, "Oh it is so ad-dorable." Or was it Mimi?

The sisters' father was Mrs. Falcnier's older brother. He was a rich eccentric, who though wealthier than his sister, held less status because he was a recluse. They obviously thought the cabin was insufferably tiny and uncivilized.

Mimi then asked (or was this one Mimsy?), "Celeste, sweetie, I'm so sorry, but it has slipped my mind. What do your parents do?" "My mother is an animal trainer and vet." Mimsy held back snickers and Mimi gloated (or was it vice versa?), "That is so sweet."

Mrs. Falcnier however knew quite well who the Aglaias were. " How is your father? Waiting to be off on some photoshoot again in Zaire or Mongolia? Or has your mother convinced him to stay in town long enough for one of her numerous causes." Celeste hid a chuckle as Mimi and Mimsy's eyes went wide in realization that Celeste Aglaia was Julius Lazarus Aglaia's daughter.

"Well, Mom is finally having her way by staying in one location for a few months. She is busy putting together three huge fundraising galas. But you know how she is." Celeste knew quite well her mother would be struggling to hide giggles at this point. Jasmine hated these silly social games. Whenever she had a chance, Jasmine was working at animal shelters, answering phone lines at Save-this-animal-Foundations, and pulling off fundraising bashes to protect the environment. Sure she could just give money and stand back, delusional that that was enough. She didn't do this because it would help her image or she felt it was her obligation. She did it because she wanted to. Jasmine could put all her efforts helping people, but animals have none of their own to speak on their behalf. Besides, animals were more deserving of aid because they were victims of mankind.

"Absolutely. She is all give-give-give. Tell her that I'd love to go to one of her charity bashes and make some substantial donations." And be seen as a philantrophist at a fashionable function. I shouldn't judge Mrs. Falcnier so harshly, for she'd at least donate money while there. Unlike many of the other vermin. After Celeste agreed to comply, Mrs. Falcnier commented, "Your parents are honestly two of the hardest working people I know. It is unfortunate they couldn't attend."

Gretchen wanted to say something, but immediately was shushed by her relatives. Whenever Celeste had tried to incorporate Gretchen into the conversation, her mother or cousins would redirect it so Gretchen could only respond yes or no. But Celeste's next question was subtle revenge. "Mimi and Mimsy, do you attend the same school as Gretchen?" This was delicious revenge, for Gretchen went to a boarding school that exclusively dealt with children who had learning disabilities. Gretchen tried hard at school, but her short term memory was horrible. She was just simple and childlike. Had it not been that she was a beautiful, lithe sweetheart, she wouldn't have been shown to the public whatsoever. She didn't know really what was inappropriate to say, so she was encouraged not to speak at all, just smile sweetly and not fidget too much. Hence implying that the cousins attended the same school as Gretchen was a veiled insult.

"No, they attend public school," Gretchen exclaimed, not realizing this was untactful. Many of the adults here considered it of low taste and risky to send their little darling to a "dangerous" public school. Celeste was curious why someone who was reputedly so rich not send his daughters to private or boarding school. Mimsy (?) tried to save face with, "Our father feels that it is more appropriate for us to interact with the less fortunate people." Most people would not consider making under a couple hundred thousand dollars a year "less fortunate." Because Celeste had been encouraging Gretchen to speak, Gretchen did something bold. She spoke out, "But I thought it was because the other schools didn't like how you were stealing and being bad with boys?" she said, making her statement a question. Mrs. Falcnier, who really didn't care much for her nieces, however was irked that Gretchen dared to speak out. "Honey, what an active imagination you have. You have been watching too many hours of television ever since you got home."

Celeste noticed how Gretchen shrunk into herself at the discredit. Before Celeste could say anything, the other cousin asked, "And, Celeste, where do you go to school?" Celeste flippantly responded, "I don't usually. I'm home schooled since my family travels so much. I receive and send my schoolwork over through the mail and learn the material on my own. I find its structure much more liberating than traditional school systems." Mimi faked interest, "Is that so?" Celeste sharply responded, going into deep details of the detours she had made in a traditional curriculum, such as getting hands on experience with archaeology by spending a month on an excavation of Aztec ruins.

Celeste then smoothly offered, "Since you told me Gretchen has never visited this specific yacht, how about I take her under my wing until dinnertime. This way you, Mrs. Falcnier can talk with some of your adult friends. And Mimsy and Mimi can get a chance to explore the place and mingle without being constrained by the responsibility of looking after Gretchen. And I know of plenty of ways to keep her entertained."

Mrs. Falcnier would have been suspicious of anyone else, but she also realized the Aglaias were infamous for their sincerity and generosity. Besides, what could this one lone 13 year old learn from the vulnerable Gretchen that would be of interest. "That is a wonderful idea, Celeste. I appreciate your offer so much. I'll remember this when it comes to funding your mother's projects." Mimsy and Mimi were jealous, since they had been allowed to come only because their aunt was a close colleague of Elation's mother's best friend. They weren't particularly welcomed. And Celeste was within the tight knot of Elation and Divina's group. Celeste would have been a perfect connection to those socialites, for Mimsy and Mimi. But it was apparent that since their aunt approved of the idea and Celeste had pointedly left them out of the invite, they were on their own.

Celeste guided Gretchen to a relatively quiet pair of chairs, after having brief polite conversations with a few people. There, they talked about butterflies, horses, Celeste's pet dove Phoebe, and dreams. Celeste even mentioned some silly dreams she had. Not the ones where people around her died while she alone survived by chance. That was much too morbid and disturbing for most people to hear, let alone for dear little Gretchen. Instead she talked about dreams of Kingdoms on each planet, ruled by a Kingdom on the Moon. Celeste could not go into detail about the dreams, for they eluded her grasp. However, she did convey how honesty and integrity and hard work were valued. Gretchen thought this was "pretty." After a few moments of thought, Gretchen exclaimed, "Let's go outdoors!" Celeste smiled at this innocent enthusiasm and asked, "Any particular reason?" "I want to look at the sky. There is suppose to be a full moon tonight. Please!" the sweet thing begged. Celeste was saddened at how she expected to be turned down, even though she persisted. "I want to look at the places of your dreams." Celeste smiled genuinely and responded, "Then let's go onto the deck."

***

Saturday, March 28^th

Celeste bladed out of the rink, out of the Bladium, and towards the docks. It was several miles, but Celeste didn't mind the distance. Before the night of the debutante ball, she had run into Jonathan one other time. It had been by chance, in a sporting goods store near the docks. That second chance encounter was when she decided he was a friend and not some random guy.

Looking back, Celeste now realized that what she had hated so much about the aristocratic world she once tried to be part of was not the shallowness of the conversations. Gretchen's conversations were far simpler than anything the others would discuss. No, Celeste now realized it was the insincerity she despised. No comment, no question, no glance went without hidden meanings and motives. You never knew when a slight slip of the tongue could work into major backstabbing. Everyone constantly evaluated and judged you, finding ways to either leech off of your status or squash you like an insect.

When Celeste had tried to be part of that world, normal kids would distance themselves from her, associating her with the aristocrats she accompanied. Jonathan, like Mina, had ignored the fact that she was from that world, and instead saw straight into her true self. Now Celeste stopped alienating people due to her pretensions, ever since Jonathan. However, she still wasn't particularly touched by people. Instead, she kept people at a measured distance.

Was the Sun Kingdom as wrapped up in politics and as them? I don't think so, since our ruling system didn't really run in such a way that the wealthy had so much more influence then the poor. I know in the other Kingdoms, these little social games played a big role. But I never really had to strictly abide by the rules of the other Kingdoms since the Sun Kingdom was out of their jurisdiction completely. So long as I didn't do anything too illegal, I could have done whatever the hell I wanted. Though, mother and father would have been furious, had I done so. Mother especially. I do hope, however, that despite the flaws of the Kingdoms, Gretchen gets a chance to see them some day. That night we couldn't quite make them out, only the full moon and the stars. How poetic, that night that changed my life, I saw the symbols of my parents' heritage. Some day I will need to confront my drastic contrast of heritage, but not yet. For now, I want to look at that motocross Jonathan was drooling over. Celeste bladed on to the sporting goods store near the dock, where she had her second encounter with Jonathan. For a moment, she found it strange that her amazing memory and observancy skills could not recall how that day went. But some things are not meant for the mind to know. That encounter was something of the heart and spirit, not of the intellect.

***

1st week of January, one year ago

Start playing song: “Dancing Queen” performed by Abba (The version by A*Teens will suffice).

Celeste had patiently waited through the dinner. She endured the tediums of who gave Elation what, what was said to her, how her ball compared to the ones the others had. Finally the time came for them to leave the table. There was a live band, which played instrumental music. One of the big R&B stars was suppose to stop by to sing a few songs. Celeste thought the singer had mediocre talent, and would join the long list of one-hit-wonders. Celeste admired singers who were also a musician, also wrote their music, also wrote their lyrics, were their own managers; did something to contribute to the music besides trilling the notes on the song sheet. The band however was quite good, and it was a shame they were limited to playing either classical music (at the request of the adults) or the latest pop ballads. In an earlier conversation, Celeste discovered that the group loved jazz and dance songs. The keyboardist, who was limited to performing as a pianist tonight, said how she was working on a techno piece she had written herself. She promised to send Celeste a demo as soon as it was finished. It was such a shame that slow dancing and traditional styles were the only dancing that were appropriate for the extravagant gowns and elaborate tuxedos and suits.

So far, stargazing with Gretchen and finding the secret passions of this little-known talented group, were the only perks of the evening. Celeste snarled slightly upon seeing the clock. The traitorous creature must be slow, for it said it was only ten till 9:00 when it felt like it should be well past time to head to her other entertainment.

Someone lightly tapped on her shoulder and Celeste looked over. It was a gawky adolescent boy. He had a violent mess of grey-blue tresses that made him look top-heavy. He obviously had never approached a girl before, his red colored eyes averted to the ground. "May I have the honor of this dance with you?" he shyly asked. It was obvious he was about eleven and hadn't hit his growth spurt yet. Celeste was thirteen, though she looked more mature, as though she was sixteen or seventeen. She was easily taller than him, though that wouldn't last, since his body showed promises of height. "So long as you don't step on my feet," she responded in her typical humor. As the song went on, he softly revealed, "I'm grateful you agreed to dance with me. I asked the most unlikely girl to say yes, and you said yes anyway." She raised an eyebrow, and full of amusement asked, "Did I seem that unobtainable?" He nodded nervously, though smiled slightly because she wasn't doing anything intimidating. "You struck me as the most beautiful, confident, and intelligent person here. I figured if I asked the most unlikely first, it would be easier to ask the more likely." "Ahh," she whispered in his ear. When the song was over, she gave a quick peck on his forehead, and was lighthearted as she watched him scurry away.

However, he must have told his friends that she said yes. Soon there was a long line of young gentlemen awaiting the chance to dance with a kind and gorgeous girl. Celeste had a feeling Elation would be irritated, but right now she didn't care. Celeste was getting sick of dealing with Elation and Divina and Genuine. The hell with it. Celeste was beginning to have a moderately decent time, now that she wasn't watching every little word she said. And it wasn't just preteens that approached her for dances. Boys under ten and well into their teens and even some adult men, they awaited the chance to dance with her. Guess they find my sense of humor refreshing. Hey, whatever makes them happy.

At fifteen until ten, how the time flew, a familiar face was her next dance partner. Reginald told her calmly, "After this song, let's get out of here. If I have to dance with another airhead with two left feet, I'll do something drastic." "Glad to know that since I'm about to make you do something drastic, you consider me an airhead." Watching him splutter was quite amusing. Twisting people's words around always brought about interesting responses. They walked arm in arm towards the entrance.

Stop playing song

But the evil socialite brats were glaring as she approached. Divina, Elation and Genuine walked forward to confront them, while the rest of their lackeys stood back. Elation demanded of her brother, "What are you doing with my guest?" Reginald shot back, "Leaving."

Divina however directed her attention solely on Celeste. "Honey, you sure you don't want to stay?" she silkily asked, her words holding more than surface meaning. "I'm sorry Divina, Elation, Genuine, but I've gotten to be overwhelmed by this atmosphere. No offense, but I feel it is my time to leave." Divina's eyes were dark and her voice threatening as she warned, "But honey, are you sure you want to leave the party? I mean, honey, the doors aren't going to open up again. You understand what I'm saying, right hon?" Celeste merely rolled her eyes. Genuine then bitterly exclaimed, "It is just as well. That vulgar display of hers by being so friendly with all those men is just inappropriate. And then corrupting all those innocent little boys. I won't even touch that."

This did it. Celeste usually had good control, but she was sick of being insulted without fighting back. She adopted Genuine's nose flaring, Elation's incessant head bobbing, and Divina's overuse of the word "honey." And she rebuked, "Honey, I apologize if my behavior offended. Those poor gentlemen only wanted a girl who wouldn't refuse them a dance. It completely slipped my mind that I should have directed their attentions to you, honey. Afterall, you would never reject a male's desires. But honey, I've taken up too much of your time. I'll take my leave then. Oh by the way honey," she said, a malicious glint in her eye, "I'm sure no one else will comment on, let alone notice, your odiferous scent. And honey, if they do ask, just lie by saying it’s the perfume. Ciao." Celeste proudly marched out of there, the angry huffing of the glamour gals music to her ears. For she has walked out their world forever, and held no regrets.

***

Saturday, March 28^th

Man that retort was satisfying, she thought as she left the docks. Leaving those socialite brats was one of the smartest things she did. Though her next act was stupidity enough to neutralize that moment of genius.

He asked me why I put myself in that situation. I was just so sick of not having real friends that I put my guard down. I was a true idiot. But being there was like inflicting self-mutilation. It was pain and something horrible, but it made me remember I'm alive. Thank goodness Jonathan saved me, both from that and from myself. Who knows what would have happened otherwise. Though, maybe that rave wouldn't have occurred either…

***

1st week of January, one year ago

Reginald sped down the highway with the convertible top down and the windows completely opened. So what if he was speeding at ridiculous speeds. Time and reality were trailing behind, unable to touch her, unable to hurt her. The rush of control slipping away was heady stuff. But they arrived safely at Reginald's home. It was no surprise that Celeste and Reginald got there soon and before many of the party attendees had arrived. Though there were a few high schoolers waiting to be let in. Reginald casually marched in and opened his front door wide open.

Celeste asked while the few people on the lawn walked in, "Where are your parents and sister?" Reginald dismissively replied, "They have a 2 A.M. flight to Paris. Elation is going to get her portfolio together before she tries to get an interview with some big named photographer. So they are staying at an Embassy Suites by the airport tonight." Celeste was highly amused by this and asked, "When did you find out?" "Right before dinner was served. Elation was whining about how a photographer she was expecting to come was a no-show. To prevent a scene, father flung out the idea and mother spent the next couple of minutes using connections to get the flight, hotel, and interviews."

Celeste chuckled under her breath. She knew her father was the photographer they had expected, and knew that Elation did not have what it takes to be a model. Face wise, her smile always looked false, her eyes were always puffy, and her chin was too broad, as well as having a second chin. Figure wise, Elation would need serious surgery to have the voluptuous figure to be the kind of model she dreamed of. Celeste didn't think lowly of Elation because of her appearance (her personality more than made up for that), but Celeste also realistically knew what photographers were looking for. Reginald muttered to himself, "I think the original photographer was suppose to be some big deal, world renowned big shot. Julius something Agayla or something along those lines. Elation had expected one of her guests to bring him, but she was unreliable." This only reaffirmed her own conclusion.

As this short conversation went on, loads of people had filtered into the mansion. Reginald ended up being a pretty good host, at least by the standards of the other kids. There were plenty of cold sodas and beers ready to be grabbed out of the refrigerator. There were potato chips and other snack type foods to eat (though none of them were messier than possibly leaving crumbs, a good precaution on Reginald's part). There was music to dance to, and plenty of people were getting drunk. Someone had brought two extra blenders and started concocting alcoholic fruit drinks such as daiquiris and piña coladas. Some of these had rum, others had vodka, some had various other liqueurs. Celeste noticed people casually opening up more expensive drinks, such as amaretto and kahlua and champagne. The party attendees were enjoying themselves, the nice party atmosphere and the free booze.

Celeste soon realized she was the only person that wasn't yet in high school there, and this made her feel awkward. She clung close to Reginald's side. Celeste noticed that in every somewhat secluded corner, there were teenagers making out. Celeste noticed a very thin but well developed girl being led upstairs by a jock. It was pretty obvious they were going to one of the bedrooms. And Celeste easily could put two and two together about why. Reginald put an arm around her shoulders. A beer can was in the other hand, which he guzzled. This wasn't the first time Celeste had been a party like this, but this was the first time where she only knew one person. There was no way Celeste would be able to get a ride home anytime soon.

So she adjusted herself to the atmosphere and tried to get Reginald to dance. Soon however, he insisted they both sit on the couch in front of the TV. There was no sports games on, so there was some old horror flick that some of the kids were watching in the lightless living room. Celeste had never seen this horror film, and rested her head on Reginald's shoulder as they watched the stereotypical hero exclaim to himself that something weird is going on. It didn't escape her attention that Reginald was on his third can. But that didn't matter. She however did stiffen when he moved the hand of the arm around her shoulder so that it touched a certain portion of her body. She tried to squirm away from his hand and give subtle body language. But he drunk enough to be oblivious to her body signals, and she was pressed tight between the side of the couch and Reginald. No one was paying attention in the dark lighting, and the music and television were too loud for anyone to hear her protests. Celeste's hand brushed against glasses filled with the daiquiri drink.

She was so lonely for some attention, and sick of the hidden plots. Here, Reginald was paying her attention and being very clear about what he was thinking about and wanted. And Celeste thought for a moment how childish her parents were behaving, and how she pressed needles into her veins to feel pain and know that she was alive. Why am I resisting? It makes no difference what happens to me. My existence is unimportant. There is no point in resisting. Besides, who cares what happens? No one, that's who. But Celeste couldn't stick to her resolve without help. She grabbed the daiquiris on the furniture beside her and gulped them down. Soon she felt dizzy and disoriented. But somehow she felt liberated, not bound by this thing known as logic.

Jonathan had attended Elation's debutante ball. Her father was one of the people in charge of the station his father worked at. He had been pleasantly surprised to see Celeste there from afar. He watched as she masterfully dealt with Mrs. Falcnier and Mimsy and Mimi. She had absolutely amazed and amused him with her wit and humor. When she took Gretchen aside, Jonathan lingered at the edge of hearing range and saw the kindness and patience she possessed. The dreams of Kingdoms of the past were enrapturing tales when she spoke of them. When Celeste had danced with any fellow who asked her nicely, no matter how low his status or how big the age difference, he waited patiently in line. Unfortunately, that wait had been in vain, but she still kept drawing him towards her like a magnet. For the more he saw of her, the more he liked. He was admiring when he saw how deftly she dealt with the three witches known as Divina, Elation, and Genuine.

When Jonathan had first spotted her being amazed at his friends' antics, he was intrigued. The more he got to know her, the more he found himself drawn towards her. Not that he was fooling himself into believing she was perfect. He knew she would be the first to tell him she wasn't going to put up with being idolized. It vexed her whenever someone started to treat her like she was better than anyone else. Jonathan just saw that she was a person of many layers who wanted to unveil her core in an unaccepting world. Tonight, just from merely watching her acting naturally from afar, Jonathan knew he had fallen for her, and he had fallen hard.

His buddies that were also there complained all night how Jonathan had been out of it. So they suggested they attend this wicked high school party that was going on. Jonathan distractedly assented. Jonathan walked with his pals into the huge mansion. They immediately got into the party atmosphere. Jonathan just lingered by the hallway, before wandering around the house. It was by most people's standards there, a good party. Jonathan noted with amusement that anything of real value was hidden, obvious from the clues on the furniture, so they wouldn't be stolen nor ruined.

As Jonathan wandered into the living room, he hung around in the back in time to see the ending. A few minutes later the TV was off and the lights were back on. Jonathan was shocked by what he saw.

That just can't be! There is no way! Not only would this be too coincidental, she clearly told me how she never had strong feelings for people. So it can't be, it just can't. Unfortunately, Jonathan saw Reginald on the couch fondling Celeste's breasts while sucking like a leech on her neck. Celeste was off in la-la land, her head leaning against the couch as her eyes were distant. Jonathan turned a dark red as he approached the couch, though whether out of embarrassment or rage is unclear. There were a bunch of people who were blocking his way, so it took longer than it should have. By the time Jonathan was close enough to throttle Reginald, the pig was rubbing her leg with one hand, starting to reach up her dress. Jonathan quickly realized that while Reginald had a couple of drinks, Celeste was definitely drunk.

Without thinking, Jonathan tightly grabbed Reginald's wrist. Reginald, though short for his age and slightly thrown off by the alcohol, still had a physical advantage over Jonathan due to his age and muscular bulk. Reginald was startled for a few moments, then was furious. "What the hell do you want, Jonathan, you little maggot!" he demanded. He reclaimed ownership of his wrist, continuing, "Can't you see I'm a little busy?" Jonathan responded with how this type of behavior was sickening. "Like I give what you think. Stay out of this, pest. Otherwise, your father might lose his job suddenly," Reginald threatened menacingly. "You know, you are such a tough guy, hiding behind daddy's wallet." Reginald stood up, leaving Celeste to slide down into a lying position, as he roared, "You little prick! This is between me and Celeste!" By now an audience had gathered, finding the argument entertaining. Jonathan struck home with softly saying, "That is just sick, considering how you are taking advantage of a girl who is too drunk to resist. Or the fact that you are eighteen and she is only thirteen! You hear me? Thirteen! Did you know that that is statutory rape? And since Celeste isn't exactly in a position to consent, regular rape will most likely be included. Considering all the other charges that could thrown against you, I suggest you back down."

All of Reginald's rage gave way to surprise. Sure he realized Celeste had drunken a little more than she could handle, but he had no idea about her age. "She is thirteen!" he spluttered to the fourteen year old skater. "Elation just turned sixteen, so I figured Celeste was sixteen or seventeen. Hell, maybe even fifteen at the youngest! She just looks and acts so mature." Jonathan didn't comment that the fact that Reginald's hormones had acted up and that Celeste was well developed led to him deluding himself with that conclusion. The audience began to disperse, the conflict being over.

Reginald brought Celeste onto her feet and handed her over to Jonathan. "Here, you deal with her. Just get here out of here. I don't want to deal with her anymore." Then he menacingly added, "You better not let her decide to press charges, or else you'll regret it."

Jonathan nodded with relief as he supported Celeste so she wouldn't fall over. He immediately talked to his friends, who decided to stick around there. He then called a taxi and brought her outside. He propped her against him as they sat on the curb to wait. The cold air was bringing her back to reality somewhat, but she was shivering in her gown. He took off his jacket and hung it over her shoulders. Celeste drunkenly babbled, "I wanna return to the sky. I wanna return home. The stars or moon will be okay. But the sun is best. The sun is my home." Jonathan randomly stroked her hair as she babbled. It was scary how close of a call that had been. He knew she had some serious emotional problems, just not what exactly. But he was curious what pushed her to put herself in that situation.

The taxi finally arrived and Jonathan helped Celeste get in. He vetoed his original plan of taking her straight home. Her parents would kill her, and Jonathan deemed her evening already had enough excitement. So Jonathan directed the cab driver to take them to the all night coffee shop that was a few blocks away. The coffee there was gourmet, but he didn't see any reason why to scrimp on quality. She needed to sober up with coffee and food, and quality would make her more inclined to do so. It was simple human nature: quality wears down reluctance. It was not an easy task bringing her into the coffee shop, since she stumbled and was very woozy. Bringing her through the door proved to be an interesting challenge, since he couldn't easily hold her steady while holding the door open. It took some maneuvering and stretching, but he managed.

Only then did the late-shift waitress notice them. The waitress, whose nametag said Marilyn, indicated for them to sit anywhere. Marilyn was one of those tired middle-aged women who looked and felt like she never accomplished anything in life. She also was probably going through a midlife crisis. There were subtle hints. The way she used slang phrases such as "wa' sup" and "whatever" and "reeks." It is better not to go into the details of the actual conversation. But also she caked on too much makeup, including vibrant blue nail polish, sparkly lipstick, and obviously a generous amount of bronzer. However, she also wore a halter top that showed slight rolls in her tummy and wasn't filled up as much in the chest area as the specific design was intended. It also creeped out the practically 15 year old boy that she was being excessively coy towards him.

At least she was prompt in giving the two cups of mocha cappuccinos. Celeste's mind gradually became more normal. Soon she only behaved drowsy rather than absolutely drunk. "What exactly happened? It's all one big unpleasant blur." Jonathan didn't try to protect her from reality. It wouldn't prove to be any benefit. "By chance I ended up goin' to the same party as you after ditching Elation's debutante ball. When I arrived, I saw Reginald taking advantage of you. You were seriously out of it. I let it hit home with Reginald that since you are 13 and he is 18, anything more he did would fall under statutory rape. He was quite humbled after that." Celeste sighed and shivered, holding back sobs. "That was close. I mean, I know I've put myself in some pretty narrow situations before, but this was the first time I was backed so far into a corner," she said to herself. To him she feebly smiled, "Thank you. I don't want to contemplate what would have happened had you not arrived." Jonathan just said, "Same here."

There was a long silence as both just sipped the caffeine rich beverages. Finally Jonathan sheepishly admitted, "I have something that has been bothering me. Why did you put yourself in that situation?" Most people, when they would say something like that, it would have been an accusation. But Jonathan appeared to be sincerely curious and concerned. "I'm not sure you should hear this. There are a lot of factors. And I'm not sure I'm ready to face all of them," she averted her eyes to the floor. He reached a hand across the table and held her chin. With a minimal amount of energy, Jonathan held her eyes with his gaze. "But it'll help you come up with ways of dealin' with your sitch if you confront your problems. And telling an objective but receptive mind oughta bring about some insight."

She nodded, which caused him to drop his hand, and prepared to face her life. "It all stems off of my parents. You know how they are a photographer and an animal trainer slash vet? Well, first off, we travel so much that I rarely have time to make friends. That was why I let the glamour gals befriend me. I was rich, had connections, class, and could play their social games. They didn't care how long I stuck around, let alone about me, but they were people to do stuff with. Regular kids tend to be uneasy around me, because I obviously have an irregular lifestyle and usually don't stick around long enough to make friends.

And then there is the fact that people always try to take advantage of who my father is. I'm always reluctant to admit who he is because most people dream of being a glamorous super model. That also makes it difficult to make real friends, because I'm always wary someone will try to use me to get in with my dad. I hate it, because I never know when someone just wants to befriend me and not my connections." She became more frantic as she kept letting the words spill out.

"And then there are my parents. Everything used to be fine. But over the last year they've gotten into some really nasty habits. It is because of associating with the fashion industry for so long. Their loose morals finally got to mom and dad. Had they never been part of the fashion industry, everything would still be perfectly wonderful. But now dad sleeps with any model who flirts with him and mom injects heaven-knows-what into her veins. Both know the other does it, making them just increase the level of behavior. I do such dangerous stuff because they don't care they are hurting me so much, so why should I care about hurting myself. If they loved me enough, they would stop, and everything would go back to normal. But hell, I might as well get superficial joy from my crazy antics, cause I sure don't get it elsewhere. And maybe my parents will notice I'm miserable. But I'm not holding my breath."

Celeste broke into tears, her drunken and emotional state leaving her vulnerable to her misery. Jonathan fortunately wasn't awkward around crying girls. He walked around the table and held her in his arms, rocking her as she created tear stains on his shirt. Finally her sobs subsided, she sniffled, and then brought her arm up to wipe the lagging tears away from her eyes. Her sleeve slipped a little, revealing her freshly wound inflicted wrist. Jonathan gave her a stare that demanded further explanation.

"This is the best way of forgetting. Inflicting pain makes me remember this isn't some manifested nightmare, that I'm alive. It overrides thoughts of reality, bringing me scarce moments of peace. And the amazing thing is that the wounds always try to heal. True many of them are developing into scars, but they still try to heal. A real peculiarity, but something for hope. Besides, who the hell cares whether I let the knife slip and actually slit my wrists!"

"Goddamn it Celeste, of course people care! How'd you think I'd feel? You're the most amazing girl I've met, always finding humor in life no matter how wretch'd it is. And you are kind and generous, and willing to put anyone in their place if they are crossing the line. And I'm sure your parents feel the same way." Celeste was shocked, and sheepishly looked him the eye as she asked, "Honestly?" He snorted and kissed the top of her head. "I don't know what I'd do without you. Promise me you'll stop."

Even though this was a dead serious issue, Celeste wryly asked, "And what would I get in return?" He leaned forward and whispered, "This." And the whisper turned into a kiss, far from her first, but the first sincere one Celeste ever had. Celeste judged that giving up her destructive behavior was worth this.

***

Saturday, March 28^th

Celeste went into the same coffee shop from that pivotal night. Ironically, Marilyn was working that day, though she didn't recognize Celeste. Marilyn had grown out of her wanting-to-be-a-teenager-again phase. She looked fairly pleasant, with makeup and clothing suited for her body and age. Celeste dwelled over the mocha cappucino. She hesitated leaving, for she had one last stop to make. The warehouse where tragedy stuck. It had been one year since that fateful occurrence happened. She didn't want to return there, knowing the memories were going to overwhelm her. But it was necessary for her to face her situation. Like Jonathan had said so long ago.

Amy had been shocked that morning when Greg had called her. She hadn't heard from him since they were still fighting the Negaverse. Amy wasn't sure she would hear from him again, since everyone's memory had been erased when they had been reborn after the fight against Queen Beryl. And by everyone, she meant the normal population as well as the senshi. "Hi Amy. It has been a long time. I'm sure you find it weird that I'm calling you since, we technically haven't known each other anymore. But my dad's got business here. And I think it is essential that we discuss what went on between us. So meet me at the art exhibition at museum tonight at 6:00."

The senshi met up with DJ, Jamie, Andrew, Elizabeth, Molly, Melvin, and Chad for a picnic in the park. For finally the horrible weather had taken a break. Lita had provided most of the food, while everyone else made a small contribution here and there. There was a slight surprise when Amy told the others that Greg had called her. Hotaru and Rini had made a pact that they wouldn't tell the others about their rendezvous with Brian, not wanting to deal with the others' attempts at meddling. So they remained silent when Amy mentioned she was meeting Greg at the art exhibition as well. "That is a lovely exhibit. The artwork and presentation is combined wonderfully," Michelle commented. Amara teased, "Of course you say that. You have five paintings in that exhibit. You just want us to think you're modest by not mentioning that. You are such a sneak." Michelle wielded faux shock and dismay at her beloved's accusation. Everyone else congratulated Michelle on the honor of her accomplishment.

DJ too nonchalantly asked, "Where is Celeste?" Everyone figured she was still sick. Serena cleared up the misunderstanding, "Actually she bought a last minute flight to LA last night. She wouldn't go into the details of why. I do know however that that's where both of her parents are." Everyone figured that was why she left. But Mina hit her palm to her forehead, for she couldn't believe she had forgotten. No wonder her health was so bad. Not only is she susceptible to bad weather, but also it has been a year since it has happened. Poor thing.

Mina clarified the details. "I don't think that's why she left. You guys don't know that much about Celeste. To keep it short, the Celeste we know isn't the whole Celeste. She always has been lonely. But starting about two years ago her parents started having problems. It's none of my business to go into the details without Celeste's consent, but they got into some pretty bad behavior. Celeste didn't really have anyone to turn to, and I couldn't do much since we only had letters, e-mail, and the occasional phone call. So she, starving for some friendship, turned to some elitist rich brats. She was too spirited to be able to deal with their deceptions for long. So Celeste turned to taking some serious risks. One night she put herself in the situation where she was being taking advantage of. She was too drunk to stop it herself; so she was really fortunate that Jonathan, a real friend of hers, was there to save her. He helped turn her life back around. They ended up dating and were really serious."

"Something bad happened," Raye predicted. Mina nodded, "Yeah. They were both in love, and were a perfect match for one another. He even took her to his school's big annual dance. Anyway, both of them got really bored there that night. So, Celeste took him to a nearby rave, where they could really let loose. Normally Jonathan wasn't into drugs or anything, but Celeste confidently assured him that nothing bad would happen if they took ecstasy once. She left for five minutes to grab some water, and when she came back, he had taken his share and went unconscious. He died in her arms before the ambulance arrived. That was one year from tomorrow. Anyway, she went into a deep depression. It finally snapped her parents out of their behavior, though they ended up getting separated. She lost all will to live. Somehow we managed to shake her out of it, but she still blames herself. I'm positive that she often wishes it was her who had died that night."

Silence met this scary revelation. Who would have guessed that happy-go-lucky Celeste had such a disturbing past. Mina didn't tell the others how Celeste had tried suicide several times, and only stopped when Mina spent a week in LA to cheer her up. Mina was confident that Celeste was now stable enough that she wouldn't slip back into a self-destructive cycle. But this was only a part of why she thought DJ and Celeste needed one another. They could help heal one another's pain.

DJ was shaken by what he heard. He wanted so much to hear more details so he could better understand Celeste. But he didn't have any right to do so. But it made him realize that she was just as hurt as he was, perhaps more so since it had happened right before her eyes. He also realized that Celeste had truly been in love once. She doesn't love me, and there is no way I could take the place of this Jonathan fellow. Guess there is no hope for a romantic relationship between us, but I can still be her friend. I'll just have to ignore the somersaults my stomach does in her presence, but I'll manage. This wasn't the first time DJ resolved to take this course of action. But somehow, he always forgot he decided to not try for a romantic relationship.

Rini kept her yawns to a minimum throughout their exploration of the art museum. They had stopped off first at the featured exhibit, which held some amazing pieces. Rini was very impressed by the artwork done by Michelle. Her favorite was one with dark clouds in the sky and a violent whirlpool that was ripping apart the ocean. In the center of the whirlpool was three small figures who wore white tunics and halos, and had a slight glow around them. There was an allusion to wings around them, and the immediate vicinity around them was the only area undamaged. Two of the figures were obviously of Michelle and Amara. But instead of the third being Trista (or even Hotaru), as Rini would have expected, it was a handsome blonde youth. Even though his drawing was tiny, there was definite strength about him. Wonder who he could be?

Rini shook her head and glanced at Hotaru and Brian. It was cute how they managed to surpass the communication gap. Their gestures, facial expressions, and body language worked perfectly. Rini was managing to be unobtrusive while still watching. However, it was hard to not be interacting with them. Rini was just too used to being part of the conversation. And lately, with her new transformation to Sailor Fuchsia Moon, the other senshi were treating her as more of an equal. Rini liked this change, for as Sailor Fuchsia Moon she became the same age as the other senshi, instead of staying younger as Mini Moon. Though it would be nice if Hotaru would age the same way when she transformed. Still, it was awesome having her two cents taken seriously.

Start playing song: “My Favorite Mistake” performed by Sheryl Crow.

Rini wandered off a bit from Brian and Hotaru. She was startled when she spotted Amy and Greg around the corner. They were sitting on one of the benches and were huddled close as they talked softly. Rini was too much of her mother's daughter to resist the temptation of eavesdropping. Rini crouched down and breathed as softly as possible so she could hear them.

"Amy, I want to clear up what we feel for each other. Even though technically we haven't met in this time cycle, I remember that we left things unclear," the brunette boy confessed. So this is Greg. I've heard the scouts talk about him when they tease Amy about her lack of relationships. I believe he was a rainbow crystal carrier and is a psychic who can see into the future. Amy nodded and responded, "I agree. I know when we last saw each other, I had really strong feelings for you…. But now, it's just that so much time has passed. I honestly haven't thought about you in forever." Greg looked her in the eyes. "Same here. It's just that I've been dating other girls and been feeling guilty since we never made it clear what our relationship is. I had to see you again in order to know for sure whether there is anything between us." Amy agreed, "Exactly. Perhaps at one point we could have become something more, but now I can't think of you as anything but a friend." They hugged each other and went on to talk about the artwork and various artists.

Then Greg randomly sprung on her. "Amy, don't worry about me. I'll be fine." Something in his tone worried Amy. "Greg, what do you mean? Did you see something?" Greg reluctantly nodded. Amy demanded, "What did you see? I can probably help. Don't do this to me again. You can't fight everything on your own. Haven't I told you this enough times?" Greg sheepishly shrugged. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes as he said, "One of the Generals from the Clan of the Serpent shall attack here in a few minutes. I'm going to be taken to the Evolite ship, but will be unharmed. They want my psychic power to help detect who has a Bright Future." Amy gasped, "This can't be. I must contact the other senshi. We can prevent this." Amy had stood up and was about ready to run off. Greg grabbed her arm and calmly explained, "They won't get here in time. And Mercury, Saturn, and Fuchsia Moon alone can't beat this General. It is destined." "You create your own destiny!" Amy adamantly argued. "That is true in many cases, but this has more importance than I can explain. My capture may seem insignificant, but it is a pivotal event if the Evolites and Fauna are to be defeated."

Amy was defiant for a few more moments. Then she nodded in her head in submission. "I suppose you are right. But just because I don't love-love you, that doesn't mean I don't care about you. You mean a lot to me and I don't want you to get hurt. And," her face turned sly, "just because your capture is crucial, that doesn't mean we can't give the Evolites hell in the meantime." He softly whispered, "That's the spirit!"

Stop playing song

Rini gasped ever so quietly. I hate to interrupt Hotaru's time with Brian, but we are going to need the power of Saturn. I can't understand why Amy is excepting this destiny thing so easily. I mean… then again, much of our existence is destined. I suppose I'm so used to destiny being in the positive that it doesn't seem real that it could ever be malevolent. Rini walked up to Brian and Hotaru as they admired a Monet. Rini talked from behind them so Brian wouldn't be able to read her lips. "Hotaru, we've got a situation on our hands. Greg, the psychic boy Amy used to like, he says the Evolites are going to kidnap him in a moment. We gotta change, pronto!"

Hotaru nodded fervently as Rini sped off to find a safe spot to transform. She turned to Brian to explain she needed to leave when he did something with his hand. It first looked like he was pinching his fingers to indicate a small amount and then made a zero. Oh, that is a "G" and an "O"! Hotaru's eyes went wide as she whispered, "You know?" Brian read her lips and nodded. He then made a shooing motion with his hands. She bowed her head in thanks. Then she ran off for the nearest isolated spot.

The battle that ensued was valiantly fought. But it was not enough. Greg was still abducted, and the three senshi had caused serious damage. Though Mercury barely contributed. It infuriated her that she was still weak in battle. True, intellectual fields are her strength, but that didn't mean she was automatically weak. Perhaps there is something in the Golden Scriptures that can aid me. The whole concept of writing being powerful enough to reshape the physical world and resist the destruction of time was enticing. I'm tired of being a weak fighter. Had I been strong, Greg wouldn't have been captured. With strength, I could stop the Evolites. With strength… I must become strong, no matter the sacrifices.

Fauna finally had time to relax and catch up on all her spy footage. She slipped the chip into the slot and sunk into her favorite chair, preparing to relax. However, the video instead was a live broadcast from Her. "Oh Fauna, do you really have no better way of spending your time. I could easily assign you more productive tasks." Fauna snapped, "I agreed to rejoin your ever so important cause. I did not say I'd give up all of my duties." The powerful She tsked in a motherly voice, "You really shouldn't take on pets if they get in the way of your work. Training creatures is not a duty, it is merely a distraction-"

"Stay out of it!" cut off Fauna. Instead of getting furious, She merely patronized. "Oh Fauna, all this self-inflicted work is making you edgy. It is my responsibility to make sure these little distractions don't get in the way. In fact," and Fauna's heart froze, knowing what that tone meant very well, "I believe I'll relieve you of some of them." There was no flashes or other acts of impressive showmanship. The chip merely clicked off, while Fauna was stiff.

Fauna assumed She performed another frustrating act of maliciousness. For instance, her breakfast served this morning had been caw legs instead of raw eggs. As expected, a Peon entered. He was a handsome and humble one, who did as was directed. He cleared his throat before reciting, "The Crew has sent me here. First, the Petty Minions have all been found disembowled and decapitated in their cages. Not a single one lives. The guards on duty saw them normal one moment, desecrated the next. They want your instructions as to what should be done with the carcasses. Also, the system glitches are worsening again, and they seek your instruction as to the best course of action. Finally, the Generals sent to collect the earthling have returned successfully."

She was remarkably composed as she ordered him to wait in the Parlor while she paced in her bedroom. Her thoughts were jumbled. She fidgetted with her obsidian ring and orange abalone claw necklace. Years ago she had escaped Their control, and found refuge among the Ankhphars. The Ankhphars harnessed and polished her skills over animals. The necklace was made from a special ore, with a deceptively simple design of only a single bead. It was a claw made from orange abalone. Years ago the Ankhphars had given it to her, upon her reaching the status of SapitCiron. Or Animal Master, as most other cultures called it. The Ankhphars had told her she had great potential, and that with discipline and stability, she would become one of the strongest Cironae they've ever had. Only Cironae could wear the special jewelry she had. BotanCironae (Plant Masters) had beads of green instead of orange, and in the shape of leafs instead of claws. FugnhiCironae (Fungus Masters) wore pink in the shape of mushrooms. ProtzieCironae (Protozoan Masters) had blue beads in the shape of a Paramecium, a type of protozoa which has cilia to move. And the MontranCironae (Moneran Masters) had a yellow bead in the shape of a simple bacterium.

For years Fauna had been proud of her accomplishment. But the obsidian ring They had given her caused her to be restless. Through it, They forced her to be unable to bear being an Ankhphar. So she fled. But instead of fleeing back to Them as expected, she took her time traveling the universe. When she reached the edge of the Stellar Empire, she changed some local scientists' minds to be more receptive to her bidding. With them, she stole a fortune in Stellarian technology. With this technology, she created her Evolite ship. And eventually she came to have time to perform her experiments. But subconsciously she had slowly been heading towards this part of the universe. For this was where Their stronghold of power resided.

Fauna shook her head, clearing her mind of her memories. Of course She had destroyed my creations. So what if they were failures. Those I kept were of sentimental value. But then again, that is typical of Her. Not once had She ever let me hold onto something just because it held precious memories. Now my army is cut down to a third of what it was.

A strange thought hit Fauna. This would mean she could no longer impulsively kill her Evolites when they angered her. She would actually have to take care of them. The Sailor senshi, they were growing stronger. As far as she could tell, they didn't realize it. But they were subtly growing more powerful and skillful. Her precious Evolites were becoming a scarce resource. Fauna resolved to change her rule about giving each Clan two chances. Now there would only be one shot. If none of her Clans succeeded, Fauna would have to take over the planning. There was no other alternative.

The Sailor senshi stood in the way of her gaining Bright Futures. Fauna still held onto the hope of thwarting Them, if she could manage to escape Their control. And with the human the two Serpents brought in, his ability to see the future should make it easier to find candidates. A few days ago, Fauna found her precious papyrus scroll of humans with the Brightest Futures bereft of ink. It was obvious who had played that nasty trick. But with a psychic, it should be child's play to find ideal candidates.

Fauna ceased pacing in her bedroom. She walked out the door, but didn't lock it for certain reasons. She went back into her study and found the handsome Peon standing alert, awaiting the moment she walked back in. He was muscular and tan, in such a way that it was a definite turn on. Fauna decided he could serve another purpose as soon as he delivered her messages. She commanded, "Tell the Crew that I want the bones cleaned and given to Tara (2^nd General of the Swarm; a.k.a. Tarantula). Tell her she is to make a majestic mask out of them. She can paint them and engrave and arrange them however she chooses, and use as many or little as she wants, but there is to be no other decorations. No feathers, no beads, no ribbons, no braided hair. No nothing. I will want the mask delivered to me in two days." Fauna thought to herself, THIS ought to satisfy Her requirements for the second mask.

Fauna continued, "The rest of the corpses shall be served raw to those in my disfavor. Dossiel should have a list of those beings. The dish is to be delivered to their chambers and it should be made clear I will take it as a personal insult should they not eat it. Then the Petty Minion cages and surrounding area will need to be sanitized. You," and she paused, trying to recall his name. It eluded her for a moment longer, "Denaraconyul, shall take no part in the dirty work. After you deliver these instructions, tell the Crew that they should make arrangements to move to Portia, one of the moons of Uranus. Once you perform all of these, I would like for you to wait for me in my bedroom." Fauna looked appreciatively at his delicious physique. Her voice was husky as she added, "I have ideas of how you could do me some personal service."

Denaraconyul's eyes went wide as he nodded furiously. His face was flushed as he went to perform his duties, upon Fauna's dismissal. Fauna was quite clear about what she wanted from him, and it was his responsibility to fulfill all of Fauna's whims and desires. Though she found him attractive, she was merely seeking a distraction. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, except perhaps her beloved Colonel Monarch Butterfly, but she was scared. A mere impulse on Her part had eliminated all of her Petty Minions. Never before had She done something that was such a vicious personal attack against Fauna. And that was very alarming. But M Butterfly was currently unavailable, due to being trapped in one of the malfunctioning hallways. Even though M could walk through walls, it was unwise to do so when the planes were unstable. So Fauna only had to wait until Denaraconyul returned, to play stud to her desires.

Start playing song: “Iris” performed by the Goo Goo Dolls.

Annie (6^th Captain of the Swarm; a.k.a. Ant) stretched her legs out a bit, having to turn parallel to the wall to do so. The hallways were ridiculously narrow. One person could comfortably walk through the corridors in the dormitories. Two could walk, but it would be a squeeze as they passed each other. Three would have to wait their turn to pass. She had been stuck here with the object of her devotion for half an hour. It was starting to wear on her patience, for they hadn't spoken more than a dozen words to each other since both happened to get confined here. The silence was getting to her. Ever since that night that her Colonel saved her from the fierce passions of Colonel Draco, they had avoided one another. Annie knew she loved M Butterfly with every fiber of her being, but she only knew he cared for her somewhat. This not knowing the extent of his care was eroding her hard earned self control. He knew how she felt, but she didn't know how he felt.

M Butterfly on the other hand, he knew how much Annie cared for him, but he dared not let her know the extent of his feelings. Fauna was getting more tense and irrational all of sudden, after seeming to finally grasp onto some stability. He no longer could predict her reactions, for she was getting more illogical every hour. M knew she had a fine mind, but her intense emotions often brought her down into a primitive mental state. If he showed his emotions to Annie, Fauna would be able to capture it on video. And who knew what crude jealousies viewing the footage would unleash.

Annie couldn't stand it a moment longer. "M, we need to talk. Sir, you may be my Colonel, and I among you lowest of low loyal Captains, but I need to talk to you as an equal." Annie clenched her fists, and stood up; sitting down psychologically indicated a lower amount of energy. And Annie was really getting wired. Left, right, left, right. Turn. Left, right, left, right, left, right. Turn. Her back was to him; she dared not look him in the eyes.

"Sir, I must admit, your behavior has me perplexed. That night, when you saved me from Colonel Draco's dishonorable intent – well, it wasn't that which made me say the things I did. Desperation, fear, and loneliness did play a part in admitting it then, but that wasn't the source of the emotions I spoke of." She sighed, trying to find the words to say her crucial message. "Simply put, I admire you as a Colonel, but I love you as a person. There is no other way I can describe it. You are in every one of my thoughts, both waking and sleeping." Her tone became a little more solemn. "But I've come to realize that you already know of this. You've known this for quite some time. What I can't understand is, why you are behaving as you are. To quote, you said that night 'I would love nothing more than to be with you, but should Fauna find out... she would persecute you. I can't do that to you!' I'm telling you that she is already on the verge of persecuting me, so the additional peril if we were to develop a relationship is inconsequential. My well being always has been in danger, and I'm not expecting the situation to change. What I'm trying to say is, this is no longer an issue of consequences but of emotions!"

M Butterfly was surprised by this burst of passion. Annie was always so calm and quiet, concealing every bit of emotion. He muttered to himself "I, I said that? I suppose I let on more than I should have that night." Butterfly looked up at Annie. She was glancing at him over her shoulder, her head nodding slightly. Her demands were simple: tell her the true depths of his feelings. M took a deep breath, for this was going to cost him. And he prayed Fauna would overlook any camera footage on this.

"6^th Captain Ant, that night the circumstances were, shall we say, unusual. I got caught up in the moment when I revealed so much to you, and I had hoped to resolve the situation by distancing myself. However, it is impossible for me to continue doing so, seeing how much this hurts you. I sincerely care about you Annie. I know you have plenty of reasons to hold a grudge against me. My treatment towards you has been horrible. And you've continued to offer me unconditional love and respect. I've been a fool to throw this gift back into your face. Annie, I…

M continued to confess his feelings, and when he finished, Annie wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. They then sat down and talked softly about "sweet nothings." The problems this openness would cause were temporarily ignored. As Annie said, this wasn't a discussion of consequences but of emotions. And as far as we know, the problems with the malfunctioning hallways were affecting Fauna's cameras, granting them a bit more time. Or so we assume…

Sebastian (3^rd General of the Swarm; a.k.a. Wasp) was furious upon hearing the news that the Petty Minions were destroyed. As much of a cad and player Sebastian was, he still had a heart. Sort of. A Petty Minion by the name Honey Bee had captured his attention, as well as his heart. They were truly in love, and he had figured if he got one of the lower Captains knocked out of the Swarm, she could then become a full fledge member of the Swarm. Their love had been kept under wraps for almost two years now. Sebastian behaved the same as always, except that whenever he rented a Petty Minion for lover services, he always chose Honey Bee. Their plan was so close to coming into fruition, with both 7^th Captain Beetle (m.c.k.a. Warvus) and 6^th Captain Ant being on the verge of persecution. Sebastian could have then nominated Honey Bee for either position.

But now… Now my lovely Honey Bee is gone. Never shall we join forces in a mission to bring us both prestige and numerous privilege marks. Never shall I get the chance to proudly parade you around the ship, making all the others envious. Never shall I see your sweet face again. Or your hearty laugh. Or that mischievous look you'd get whenever you had a truly wicked plan in mind. Sebastian hit his fist hard against the wall. It didn't phase him whatsoever that the other Petty Minions were gone too. The only death important enough for him to acknowledge was Honey Bee's. He vowed to himself to take revenge on whoever did this, no matter the cost. Nothing else mattered. Tomorrow I shall approach Fauna about this. I'm sure she knows the who, what, and why. And if she refuses to talk, I'm sure Tara will comply. But the moment I find out who did this, vengeance shall be mine.

Tara's silly poll's results were interesting. Let's see. 15% believe the Monarch Butterfly is male, 10% female, 30% neuter, 35% a hermaphrodite, and 10% believe he can change his gender to whatever appeals. Interesting. But this is superfluous. I should get back to finding that video I made the other day. The footage of the attacks should give the other Evolites a clue how our "enemy" really is. The threat of that should give enough leverage to make my simple demand: let Annie go. Unfortunately, the infamous She had purposely scrambled Tara's footage as well as Fauna's. True, it could have been amusing to watch Fauna squash a revolt, but that would have been chaos out of Their control. And He wouldn't like that one bit. Besides, it was interesting snipping the threads of the spider's web. Especially when the spider was in the center of that web.

Finally Tara gave up on finding the footage intact. That made her go over her mental list of other possibilities. If I can find out the full extent of Fauna's hold over our lives, perhaps I can find ways of creating artificial substitutes. And then, what. Wait a second, Derek could be useful here. I'd convince Fauna that he became sick immediately and was demanding to see one of his kind's medics. He would be too weak to journey home alone, so I'd offer one of my servants to escort him. In the crew's cabin, I could switch Annie for the servant. Done in a convincing enough matter, they wouldn't feel compelled to confirm with Fauna. Then Derek could take her with him to Earth and hide her. And…

Tara shook her head out of her daydreaming. There were too many tiny flaws in that plan. First off, Tara's fingerprints would be left behind every detail. She'd need to find a way to not be seen as an accomplice. And then there is the fact that Fauna might have him use the ship medics anyway. Or if she did use Tara's idea of sending him back with an escort, she would be likely to send Vickie (5^th General of the Den; a.k.a. Vixen) to accompany him.

At the thought of Vickie, Tara sent a quick prayer to the Creators that he wasn't truly ensnared by the volutuous and sensuous fireball. Derek claimed he was just pretending, to keep up the act of ignorance. But Tara wasn't sure it was entirely an act. Vickie had insidious ways of getting a tie to someone, a tie which often became a leash that worked one way only. The only times Derek had (politely) refused an invite to visit the ship were when his friend Misha (no wait, Mina is her name) asked him to "hang out." Tara had heard him mutter something about heaven, that strange earthling concept. That's not right either. He used a term synonymous with heaven. Celeste, if I'm not mistaken this time. Except for when Derek had plans with his friend Mina, he always was willing to visit the ship. Sometimes, he even concocted excuses to come over. Derek might not realize it, but he could possibly be caught in Vickie's ensnares. And if he was, that meant he was in turn all the more so a pawn in Fauna's games.

If that is so, that means I've got to work that much harder to disrupt the mechanics of that blasted armband of his. His staying out of her hands is crucial to a revolt. He is the only one of us who doesn't need Fauna for survival. His body is independent of her life-sustaining magics, and he has a planet to return to. This gives him an edge none other has. Unknownst to Tara, Derek also was a soldier. For some reason, he hadn't enlightened Tara about his alias as the Shining Star Warrior. So that knowledge obviously didn't equate into her plans.

Natalie (5^th General of the Swarm; a.k.a. Snail) threw another tantrum. It wasn't fair. First she had the humiliation of failure, then the pain of being whipped. Her beating then led into her disdain of her disfigurement. She hid in shame behind her mask, which was her only solace. And that was stolen from her. She snatched a piece of Bona Dean pottery and hurled it against the wall. None of her precious possessions were safe from her rage. There was this need for release of all this negative energy. It was making her twitch, being unable to vent it. For the only vent was ravaging physical objects with her own energy resources. She let out a shriek of rage. Good thing the walls were soundproofed due to the private quarters each lying in a different plane, or else someone would have thought a demon had manifested and was feasting upon the agony it caused by shattering skulls and obliterating souls. Not that Natalie wasn't craving such actions, but there weren't any organic beings in her dormitory except for herself.

She was destroying everything she spotted, caring not for how many privilege marks the repairs and replacements would cost. This wasn't surprising, since Natalie always has been slow to realize actions have consequences you can't wish away. The only things she was careful to leave unmarred were her bed and her collection of snail shells. It had fascinated her how on every planet, there were snails of some sort, no matter the terrain. The irresistible urge to have these shells built up to her immense collection.

Everything but her bed and snail shell collection was fair game for destruction. She sought to blame someone. She couldn't blame herself for her situation. The idea of anything being her fault was detestable, especially when it was clearly impossible. Natalie was incapable of errors. As she often lectured the lesser Captains, mistakes are the manifestation of an inferior being's inherent flaws. And Natalie's greatness was unsurpassed. So of course she couldn't make mistakes, which meant negative consequences were never of her doing. Unfortunately, Natalie could only think of Fauna to blame. Which was just as ridiculous of an concept. Fauna was the only person Natalie would acknowledge as slightly her superior and not just an authority figure.

It's not the medics' fault, since they were only obeying Fauna. Besides, they were itching to restore me to my formal beauty. No, someone must have insinuated these tortures into Fauna's mind. That's it! It must be. Fauna adores me, and wouldn't think of me offhand as an appealing victim. But who is Fauna to argue with sadistic fun. Despite it being at my expense. And the vermin must be one of my enemies.

But who? I'm such a lovable person, afterall. Perhaps that uppity Tortouise (1st Captain of the Scale; m.c.k.a. Tori) is the culprit. She had the impudence to scorn my obstacle course times. SO what if I'm not the fastest Evolite on the obstacle course. Her score was in the same percentile. When I pointed that out, she had that stupid calm voice as she said, "True, edgy one. However, your low scores are due to laziness; mine are due to patience and caution. You dawdled over even the safe areas, and sought shortcuts when the path ahead looked too dangerous. Me, I raced once I saw the circumstances were safe, and would wisely use my time to figure out my best options. You waste time because you dawdle, yet you are so impatient. That is where we differ." How I hate her. Though, I'm the one who has incentive to seek revenge, not her.

No, it couldn't be her. She is too shortsighted, and this had to start before any of that. Who really hates my guts at the moment. Hmm… And this hatred had to have kindled before my last mission. Which I was fortunate to have considering the fiasco Beetle (7^th Captain of the Swarm; m.c.k.a. Warvus) made of the previous one. The whimpering maggot. He thinks he is so smart. Hold on… it must be him. True, he is an idiot, but who else would hold such a stupid grudge. Especially when everything that went wrong was his fault and he got all of my privilege marks.

As is obvious, Natalie isn't the quickest wit around. It never occurred to her that Fauna was uncharacteristically kind to her, while at the same time not flirting whatsoever. Or that Warvus was the last person to have Fauna's ear. But then again, Natalie honestly believes that the universe exists solely to keep her entertained. This is sadly not an exaggeration. Still, Natalie's slow thought process makes her very single-minded, once she decides her chosen path.

Both Chad and Grandpa had been asleep for several hours. Raye had been quiet and wanted to be sure they were deeply asleep. She was going to ask the sacred fire for guidance. True, she did this often enough while Chad and Grandpa were awake (they figured she was simply praying and having a personal spiritual encounter). Raye had this nagging feeling some big events were going to happen. Not that a lot of excitement hadn't been compacted into one month. Hard to believe that it was not so long ago that the Evolites had shown up. Somehow, at times it seemed like everything was going too fast, and at others it seemed like it was the pace life always was. For instance, it had been less than a week since the Golden Scriptures were discovered. Same with the Shining Star Warrior (of whom they still knew next to nothing). Or even Celeste as the Solar Sailor, who has only shown up this month. Yet, it had been so easy to adapt to these rapid changes.

That didn't mean Raye should dismiss her intuition of what changes were to come.

When Celeste had been sick, she had spent numerous hours re-familiarizing herself with the Golden Scriptures. On Tuesday, Celeste had sent Raye a note (via Mina). According to Celeste, the Golden Scriptures were insistently focused only on a single section. The section was dedicated entirely to rituals performed by the Martian priests and priestesses. Before Tuesday, the Scriptures were fairly lenient in letting her view whatever she wanted (as lenient as the Golden Scriptures got, that is). But once Tuesday hit, the Scriptures refused to show Celeste anything but that. After Celeste sent the note, the Scriptures went back to behaving.

Her note described it as: "It was insisting I see what it put before my eyes. No other section appeared to have ink. As I've told all of you, the Scriptures only allow one to view what it chooses. I'm sure I could have forced the Scriptures to subside its stubborness if I put enough willpower into it. But the thing is, the Scriptures never show something inconsequential. I'm sure the reason it picked Tuesday to show me the section is because that's when the power of Mars is strongest. So I read the passage. I was able to see to words, but I wasn't able to actually read them. Phoebe suggested I write down what I saw. So I did, and it became clear to me that the message is intended for you. You were a Bellan Priestess of Ares in-training. It should do you some good. I've got a handwritten and typed copy of the passage for you. Trust the handwritten version more. Anyone with an ounce of Scribe training can manipulate the typed one. We don't know for sure there aren't any others who remember it. The handwritten version has protections against tampering. I'm sending the typed version along cause, as you can tell from this note, my handwriting's kind of messy. You got clairvoyance and intuition; you'll know how to use these passages to your benefit."

Well, Raye's othersense told her tonight was the time to use the rituals. And these were a little more obvious than her traditional fire readings, so it wouldn't do to have Grandpa or Chad walk in. Had it not been that these were rituals she would have easily used in the past, she would have hesitating using them in the first place. For they were intended for Priests and Priestesses, especially for Bellan Priestesses of Ares. And now, she was working on becoming a full Shinto priestess. The beliefs and responsibilities of a Bellan Priestess of Ares were no longer a part of her life. Not that she could remember what they were in the first place.

It didn't feel right to use the rites of a religion she didn't (currently) believe in. However, from what Raye had glanced from the passages, this would enhance her ability of divination. And when the stakes were so high, it was worth offending a few gods. Even gods of war.

Raye waited for her two crows, Phobos and Deimos, to arrive in the room. They both played an important role in this. Over the years, Phobos and Deimos had gotten attuned to her spiritual energy. Because of this, they would serve dual roles as famliars and anchors. In the role of familiars, they would focus her energy; in the role of anchors, they would be an additional link to the physical world, in case she got lost in her vision. Which could easily happen with these higher level powers she'd encounter.

This ritual had taken days to prepare for. While the supplies and pre-ritual actions were easily dealt with in the past, they were a little more challenging in the present. For instance, her current garb had taken her hours to find in her closet. The ram is the sacred animal of Ares, and hence was crucial in all aspects of the ritual. Hence, the only fabrics allowed to be worn during the ritual had to come from sheep. Fortunately, Raye found a pair of lambskin leather pants and a fleece long sleeve shirt. Otherwise, she would have been forced to do this in the nude. Something she definitely didn't want to do. First off, she was too selfconscious to be able to do that and concentrate. Secondly, Grandpa or Chad might wake up and see her. Bad enough she was planning on performing some herectical rituals within the temple grounds. But if she got caught doing them while in the nude, they'd assume she was dabbling in witchcraft. But that fear wasn't a concern anymore.

Raye also had to purge her body of hindering substances. To do that, she ate only approved of substances for the past several days. That meant cooked meat (preferably mutton or lamb) with only salt and pepper as seasoning. And fresh picked all-natural vegetables and fruits, for the chemicals of enhanced greenery would interfere with her energies. The only other approved food substance was bread. The only fluids she drank were water, fresh whole cow's milk, and fresh squeezed OJ. This strict diet meant no candy, no seafood, no tea. These foods were suppose to bring her physical body more intuned with the natural rhythms. She justified her odd change of eating habits to Grandpa and Chad by saying, "It's this great new organic diet. It is suppose to help you loose weight and gain more energy. I thought I'd try it out for a few days to see how it works." That was a close call.

And then, Raye was only permitted to bathe in certain herbs. It was challenging to unobtrusively gain all the required herbs. But some other materials had been even harder to acquire. It had been frustrating having to go search through half the city for the right substances. I should just be glad that all of the needed items are found on earth. This wouldn't have been worth it if I had needed to figure some way of getting my hands on a space rock. I'm still not sure this is worth it.

Raye set up the materials in their proper alignment. The four black beeswax candles, shaped by her own hands (as required), were placed around the fire, each one facing the four major compass directions. The other miscellaneous necessary objects were carefully placed in prescribed positions. It was the oddest thing, but when Raye had read the handcopied passage from the Scriptures, it was as if it showed her mental images when the text didn't clarify enough. For example, there is a part where Raye will need to do some swordwork. The passage simply said "then the saber shall be swung in the War Mother fashion." When Raye read the passage and was clearly baffled, she had a mental image of a vague person whose intricate swordwork was focused.

The only other ones who knew of this nights ritual were Celeste, Amy, and Trista. Trista thought the passage had brought up memories of the past, for Raye was sure to have performed this ritual back when she was a priestess in-training. Amy, on the otherhand, postulated that the powerful and enigmatic Golden Scriptures had in fact understood what the "War Mother fashion" implied, and decided to supply the necessary mental image to Raye. "Afterall," she explained, "Celeste did say it has an intelligence of a sort, and from what I understand, a consciousness as well. If it could insist on the passage being brought before you, I'm sure it also has the capability to, in fact, decide to supplement its text for you. That's my best hypothesis, considering the limited information and our inability to confirm or disprove any occurrence. Though, it is astounding that this occurred when not directly from the Scriptures. Possibly, Celeste having Scribe training is a key variable in this…" Raye put that thought aside, knowing it was distracting her from aligning the crow feathers properly. This arrangement was sketched into the Scriptures, which Celeste had dutifully copied.

With this done, Raye had as much of her prep work done as was possible. There was one last thing she needed to do once the crows deigned to appear. And it had to wait for after they came. Then she remembered one other thing she had to do. Remove all superfluous jewelry. Nothing that isn't priestly can remain. Martianly priestly, that is. Anything of pure iron or steel can probably slide, but I don't want to deal with it. Iron, and its form as steel, are just as important to Martian culture as the ram. In alchemy, iron is associated with the planet Mars, same as copper is with planet Venus. And steel is merely iron once it has undergone heating and having air blown on it. Raye decided to be overly cautious and took off any jewelry she could find, even a friendship bracelet made of thread, and her earrings she always wore. Finally, she noticed the ring Celeste had made. Did it need to come off? Or should it remain on? Raye grabbed the note and looked over it.

While she scrutinized it, her pet crows finally appeared. Raye shut the door behind them and made sure it and all other doors and windows were locked. She stuffed towels at the slightest cracks, but then thought better of it. It was important that the atmosphere was right. The last step was to place dry ice all over the room, so it would have an atmosphere somewhat resembling planet Mars. For it is known that planet Mars has frozen carbon dioxide at its ice caps. However, air would need to circulate somewhat, otherwise the fires would die out or she could suffocate on the smoke (or carbon dioxide).

Raye reread the key lines once more. It said simply that " Removal of all jewelry which is not associated with one's duties as a Martian Priest or Priestess is crucial. Their superfluous presence would detract from the ritual. However, jewelry of the priesthood is encouraged, so long as it enhances the wearers spiritual energy and isn't distracting." That wasn't helping Raye whatsoever. True, the ring was made of iron and was her new transformation device. However, it wasn't made by Martian hands (let alone a Priest(ess)'s) nor on Mars, and it was not made for priestly purposes. Raye couldn't think of a reason to decide in favor of either solution. Scanning the note for further clues had proven to be no use either. No new inflections were unveiled before her. Maybe if she was a Scribe she could have coaxed the passage to give new implications concerning her situation.

But alas, Raye never was a Scribe.

Finally, Raye decided to intuit the solution. She shut her eyes and focused her energy. Her breathing became very even as her othersense took over. She saw herself from a visually objective angle. Looking down at the hand before her, she saw the ring. The ring seemed to actually be pulsing. Raye was inclined to interpret this, but knew better. Waiting for all the facts to be in would let her properly react to the situation. Should she put an opinion to what was happening, she would then bias the rest of the vision to fit her interpretation. While this was challenging for the average personality, for someone as opinionated as Raye, this always was extra frustrating. The ring pulsed with her heartbeat. Its throbbings were then shown to not be hindering. In fact, they were working the same way the heartbeast did, moving the energies of the body along. It was helping her energies. Then her othersight showed her with the symbol of Mars on her forehead, and the ring appeared with othersight to be part of her body.

That decided Raye. The ring stayed on.

With that decided with, Raye sat down in her designated spot and prepared herself. And the ritual began. First, she beckoned her two crows. She used her spiritual energy to subtly change the way Phobos's and Deimos's bodies responded to spiritual energy. She shaped it so they responded somewhat like a sponge and somelike a magnifying glass and somewhat like a funnel. She then took two locks of her own hair she had cut off earlier. She tied one lock to each crow's left foot with string. She whispered "be my anchor to the physical world, something which won't budge but keeps me linked here while I'm free to travel other realms." The language of the words were unimportant; it was their message that had to be spoken.

Raye then took the pure iron knife (with not even a wooden or leather hilt) and held it by the hilt with its tip to the ground. She flipped it 180 degrees and thrust it upward, stabbing the sky. It rested there, its polished blade reflecting the sacred fire's flare. She slowly traced the symbol of Mars in the air, so from her viewpoint the symbol was being etched into the flames. She dared not hesitate the next step, or else she might fear it. And fear was something too dangerous to contemplate. She grazed the skin of her sword and writing arm from fingertip to shoulder. The knife had pressed only deep enough to draw a bit of blood.

She stuck the tip of the knife into the fire, while she willed cinders to burn her newly made cut. They burned her, but sealed the skin and ceased the bleeding. When they cooled to ashes, they were soaked red. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth as she peeled these away and tossed them into the fire. The fire flared up, and she sprinkled various herbs into it.

She shut her eyes and chanted a prayer, to three of the deities honored on Mars. She requested the guidance of Ares, the war god (and Greek name for Mars), and Hephaestus, the fire and smith god. Finally she sought the aid of Orela, the Oracle. Orela was solely honored on Mars, for it was one of the few deities not shared with any of the ancient religions on Earth. Orela was an independent deity, meaning she wasn't the sister of or daughter of or consort of any of the gods. Her creation, both in human minds and supposed birth, is unknown; for Orela is a mysterious goddess. She one day graced planet Mars, capriciously seeming to give foresight and wisdom and Sight and knowledge to certain inhabitants. The Oracle was never direct, for she worked in subtle manners. It was a serious matter whenever the Oracle was spoken by name. Though Raye had been a Bellan Priestess of Ares in the past, they had apparently been just as devoted of followers of Hephaestus and Orela as with Ares. The biggest difference between emphathis was that all Bellan Priest(esse)s of Ares were taught the arts of war as a sign of devotion to the Warrior, while only some were taught the arts of the Oracle and the Fire-Smith.

When she finished the prayer, she opened her eyes. Her prayer-or-spell-or-whatever-you-want-to call-it had worked, for her cut was healed and the fire was white hot. She had honored the Oracle by using her spiritual energy and displaying the rituals. She had honored the Fire-Smith by using the iron knife and putting it in the fire, and also by forging the shape of the black candles (which each had been lit when the sacred fire had flared). Now she must honor the Warrior with bladework.

She took the steel double edged sword from beside her and stood. It had taken quite some hunting to find a suitable blade, and had forced her to delve into her bank account, but she had found a pure steel sword with no imperfections and no decorations. She held it in her right hand. The War Mother fashion was a carefully choreographed demonstration of one's skill in bladework. To watch it perfectly performed was a treat, for its subtleties in muscle control and flexibility and balance were difficult to learn. She lunged and swung the sword across her body and over her head. She then made two spins and held her right arm out. She immediately threw the sword so its blade sliced horizontally and caught it with her left hand. The hilt of the sword was spun by her hand, so the sword was making 360 degree rotations. This was done thrice, then was thrust backwards and up underhanded style. The saber was tossed towards the fire by this motion. She quickly did a onehanded cartwheel, roundoff, and somesaulted above the flames to catch the blade before being licked by the fire and warped. She landed with the ball of her left foot, which she used to spring into some more fancy footwork and bladework.

The whole War Mother fashion took her around the entire sacred fire and had her facing every direction at one point or another. When she finished, she was back in the kneeling position before the sacred fire in her starting spot, the sword once more flat on the floor beside her. She breathed heavily, but otherwise was fine after the physical endeavor.

There were 5 points of light in the shape of a star. She saw them get closer and form a bright light. This time however, the five points of light were given a vague face in her mind's eye, none of which she recognized. But then she saw one of the points being pulled away by a large orb. This dot of light had the appearance of a feral looking woman with tan hair in a crew cut. Her canines were unusually sharp. Around her neck was a necklace with a bead of orange abalone in the shape of a claw. The other dots of light had faces which weren't as clear, though each had a similar necklace, though in different shapes and colors. As the dot was dragged away, the other points points of light couldn’t converge again to give off the bright light. As the isolated dot got farther away, it started building up a fog, a fog that grew as it came closer to the orb.

Raye saw the vision as she originally saw it twice more. What could these new details mean? Surprisingly, another presence guided her. Raye was surprised, and dared no insult it by faultily identifying it.

The soul of the presence (not a voice or mind) chuckled. *Silly child, we are not so petty as to be offended. At least we three. We are a melding of mere fragments of your deities. And before you ask, of course not. It matters little whether you still are a practitioner of the old religion, let alone a believer. You are a senshi of Mars, and shall always be welcomed to our guidance. When the Reconstruction comes, when the Moon is once more supreme, it won't continue where things left off. The Reconstruction is destined for a different era, which has changed since the dawn of the reign of the Moon. The Spiritshine being shall know who the viewed are. Tell us, what do you suppose?*

Raye was not one to be intimidated or daunted, even by divine beings. "She has important knowledge because her memories weren't blocked. But she doesn't know about these visions." Then Raye realized something without any prompting. "She doesn't know a lot of things about us, the events prior to her joining us. And since she usually has a good grip on the scheme of things, she might have some insight on these. We've gotten accustomed to her being so assured of her knowledge and acting on it, it didn't really hit us there is a big gap in her knowledge of us. Such as our encounters with the Negamoon, or Pharoah 90, or Queen Nehellenia."

***

***

***

*These three sights you've seen are of use. They be of past, future, and present. You alone may carry the Sight of the senshi, but only together can these be deciphered. Learn from your vision of the Sovereign of Silence: don't keep your visions a secret from your allies. Return, child, your body and spirit need sleep now. Chad shall sneek by soon enough. The crucial day for more knowledge is soon, even by mortal standards.*

***

Raye started, for her awareness was suddenly back in the physical realm. She was tired, while her heart was beating furiously, but she managed to quickly remove all traces of her ritual. Somehow, the presence guiding her visions had been enough to convince her that this was appropriate to do. That and, her visions never were that detailed and lengthy. She exited just as Chad was opening the door to peak in. "Chad, what are you doing here at this time of night? Don't you know better than to just barge in here? You could have startled me and I could have gotten hurt. Don't sneak up on me in the future! By the way, what time is it?" Chad humbly responded, "Okay, okay, I get the idea Raye. And it is 3:00 AM. While I realize tonight isn't a school night, I don't think sensei would appreciate you staying up so late."

Colonel Draco (of the Clan of the Scale) laughed silently as Fauna and Denaraconyul continued sleeping on both sides of him. Fauna was getting so paranoid at any little occurrence. Earlier, he had suggested it was one of the Creators of perverseness who was enjoying some pranks. She had stiffened out of terror. Draco had then insinuated that maybe it needed her to make a sacrificial ritual to it. And since it had taken all the Petty Minions, she would need to find something (or someone, as he was working on insinuating) expendable.

She was about to say yes to his plans, then and there, until the two Evolites from the Clan of the Serpent who caught the human, 2^nd General Cobra (m.c.k.a. Conan) and 2^nd Captain Python (m.c.k.a. Cecelia), told her the earthling psychic had regained consciousness. She told him she would consider his idea, before scurrying down to her dungeon. With a few pranks more, like with breakfast, to throw her off balance, and he could get her to do whatever he said. Which means the Evolite ship would be in his control. And that meant both the Ant and Monarch Butterfly would pay. He chuckled evily, until Fauna woke into full awareness, and demanded his full attention.

I hope you enjoyed the first ten chapters of Solar Revolution. I am really proud of this episode. For those of you who were bored by the lack of action, I'll make it up eventually. Keep reading. =^ D
Also, sorry this episode took forever. I'm even sorrier it turned out so long. It was going to be a short episode, but then I remembered my amount of time for working on future episodes would seriously dwindle once school starts again. So I decided to pack in a lot of info.
         Love, Sailor Eeveon Girl: Friday, August 2, 2002- Day of Frigg and Venus; Month of Augustus (Octavius)