Disclaimer: Sailor Moon does not belong to me.  It belongs to Naoko
Takeuchi and a great many wonderful people who, if they were so
inclined, could make things very unpleasant for me.  (However, they 
are all MUCH too generous and benevolent to do any such thing.)  This 
is a work of fiction and while the original idea does not belong to 
me, this story does.  Remember that, because if you don't, I'm 
sending the Senshi after you . . . .


                       Castles and Kingdoms

                                by Fushigi Kismet


Chapter Three
~Arrangements and Reservations~



   'Nay, her eyes first . . .' echoing in her ears, Immara rammed her 
elbow behind her as hard as she could into the person holding her.  
As that one let go of the hands covering her mouth, doubling over in 
pain, Immara grabbed an arm and threw the assailant into the red-eyed 
person in front of her.  They both crashed into the ground and lay 
unmoving.  Dealing with the third assailant off to the left was a 
little harder, but she moved quickly and swept out a foot in an 
attempt to knock the unseen person down.  Unfortunately, the 
adversary took that instant to take a flying leap towards Immara, 
which she ducked, drawing her foot back, and springing up at the 
right moment, she caught the leaping individual about the ankles and 
swung her crashing into the other two.
   Dusting her hands off, she looked down with satisfaction at the 
heap of bodies in front of her.  "Now, who art thou?!" she demanded.
   Amidst groaning and moaning, one of the trio dug through the 
others and lifted a head to look at the girl.  "Gods, Immara, thou 
hast not changed at ALL!"
   "Harmony?" she asked, startled out of her composure.
   "Aye," was the painful reply.

   Endymion paced.  "How am I to tell her, Kunzyn?"
   "As thou wouldst anything else . . . by first opening thy mouth."
   The prince glared at his lord.  "Oh, thank thee for thy sparkling 
gems of wisdom!"
   The white-haired lord winced at the venom in his prince's words.  
"Fine then, Endymion, attempt to win her over, then spring the news 
on her, and then marry her - all in succession.  Thou wilt have 
surprised her so much that she wilt not have been aware of what was 
happening until thou hadst her in her bridal chamber."
   Endymion struck his friend hard, ignoring the thickness of the 
armor.  Kunzyn grimaced at the dent.  "This is *supposed* to be 
protective armor, thou knowst!  I'm *not* supposed to protect myself 
from thee!"
   "Then help me!"
   "Just tell her the truth . . ."

   Monica left the room, shouting at the girls to behave and pick out 
proper attire for the ball.  As she briskly rounded a corner to see 
if she could assist the prince and his men in any way, as she was the 
only servant entrusted with the news of the engagement, she came face 
to face with a sight that stopped her cold.
   "What art thou doing here?" she demanded, her voice as frigid as 
the cold, snowy wastes of the north.
   "Why else would I come?  I came for thee."  Green eyes gazed 
steadily into her own.
   She laughed bitterly.  "I washed my hands of thee years ago.  I 
want no more to do with thee!  Why dost thou insist on intruding upon 
my peace?"
   "Thou knowst why.  I miss thee, Monica . . ."
   She struck him across the face so hard that she drew blood.  
Slowly placing a hand to his cut lip, he gazed at her and his face 
hardened.  "Fine, thou mayst act so.  I have tried to find 
forgiveness here and have found nothing but hatred.  I shall seek 
solace in other arms!"
   "As thou always does!" she shouted, turning and striding away so 
he could not see the tears welling up in her eyes.  "I take my leave 
of thee - May I never set eyes upon thee again!"
   "A touch hard, since I am His Highness's chief advisor.  Thou wilt 
be hard put to avoid me following the marriage . . . but I shall do 
my utmost to insure that we ne'er again cross paths!"
   She rounded the same corner again and stood leaning against the 
wall for a long moment, tasting the salt of tears.  Her whispered 
words issued forth, "I hate thee.  Never more than now, when thou 
hast hurt me again.  My heart is bleeding . . .  Old scars never fade 
as one wants them to, and they always pain thee more than they 
should.  I hate thee doubly for this, and yet . . .  I shall say it 
this once, and then I shall put it behind me.  I love thee, Aros."  
She pushed herself away from the wall and walked on, head held high . 
. . and tears still flowing.

   The three women painfully stood and straightened themselves.
   "Art thou all right?" Immara asked solicitously.
   Harmony sent a sour look her way.  "Tell me, dear cousin, do we 
LOOK all right?!"
   "Well, thou shouldst have known better than to threaten me," 
Immara replied, her anger rising.
   "Calm down," the green-haired woman, commanded softly.  "There is 
no need for dispute.  Is there?" Her stern eyes bored into Immara's 
and the brunette looked away.
   "No."  Immara sighed, before looking up and asking, "Why didst the 
three of thee come, Odele?"
   She smiled.  "To see thee of course!  And at what better time than  
just before the princess's name day?  We wilt pay our respects, see 
thou, and-"
   "Eat a lot of good food!" Harmony finished.  "I'm famished."
   Odele rolled her eyes.  "Thou must excuse thy cousin.  The journey 
must have addled her brain more than we previously thought."
   "Hey!"
   As Odele and Harmony began squabbling playfully, Immara turned to 
the one remaining figure.  "And thee, Simyra?  Why hast thou come?"  
Her voice held a touch of fear.
   "I have no more bad tidings for thee, Immara.  Thy father's 
passing was tragic, but do not hold me responsible.  I was but a 
messenger."
   "I know.  Still, it is difficult to see thee as aught but a 
messenger of death.  First my mother, and then my father.  So, why 
didst thou come?"
   Simyra looked searchingly at the girl in front of her.  "Why . . . 
for the wedding, of course."

   Immara slipped into the room where the other girls were all 
surveying their dresses.
   "Hello, Immie!" Serenity called.  "Where hast thou been?"
   Immediately, Immara remembered her necklace . . . and other 
matters.  With a sinking feeling she replied as cheerfully as she 
could, "Oh, nowhere of much import.  Harmony, Odele, and Simyra have 
arrived!"
   The princess's eyes widened in delight.  "Are they settled?  Might 
I assist them?"
   "Monica has attended to them most diligently.  Thou canst see them 
later."
   "Oh, I shall greet them most joyfully at the ball!"  Serenity 
beamed.
   Immara sighed internally.  "Hast thou decided on a dress?"
   Serenity winked, pulling out a silvery-white one.  "Is it a good 
choice?"
   Immara smiled, seeing her princess's happiness.  "Aye.  Now . . . 
to accessorize!"
   Raslym groaned.  "Immara, sometimes I wonder if thou wilt ever 
grow up!"
   "Perhaps I have already," she said under her breath, so no one 
could hear her.
   "Other than the hair combs that thou so graciously gave me, Tana, 
this is the only accessory I need!" Serenity declared, pulling out a 
golden box inlaid with jewels and opening it to reveal a velvet 
interior upon which lay . . .
   "Thy CHARM?!" the girls exclaimed.
   "Aye."
   "I cannot believe that thou still hast that old thing!" Raslym 
exclaimed, bewildered.
   Serenity gently pulled out the sparkling clear gem which hung on 
the end of a silver chain.  "What, thou dost not believe that I am 
capable of holding on to my belongings?" she asked, putting it on.
   "'Tis just . . . how many years hast thou *had* that?!"
   Serenity smiled.  "It was a gift from my first Nameday."
   The girls gaped as she spun about, smiling happily.  "And I still 
love it the most!"
   The gem glimmered on her chest and she reached up a hand to touch 
it.  Almost inaudibly she murmured, "I am strangely drawn to it."

   Endymion stopped talking all of a sudden and Kunzyn stared at him 
suspiciously.  Not that he wasn't happy that his prince had stopped 
panicking about explaining things to Serenity . . . it was simply odd 
that he had not finished his sentence.  "Is something wrong, Your 
Highness?"
   Endymion grinned.  "No, everything's fine, Kunzyn!  Better than 
fine - everything's great!"
   "If thou sayst so . . ."
   Suddenly composed, Endymion clapped the lord on the back and said 
brightly, "Thanks for listening to me.  I know just what to do now."  
Seeing the strange look on Kunzyn's face, he sighed.  "I'll explain 
it all later."

   Later, as the girls dressed for the ball, Artana turned to 
Serenity and demanded, "Hast thou got men here?"
   "What?" Serenity asked, startled.
   "Young men, I mean.  Monica was nattering on about taking care of 
the "gentlemen's needs" and those "blasted horses.  I saw all of the 
horses in the stables, myself, upon my arrival.  What company hast 
arrived?"
   "Serenity's suitor and his soldiers!" Immara laughed, secretly 
worrying, but trying to make light of the matter before the truth was 
known.  "They have come to kidnap the princess and take her back to 
the prince's kingdom."
   "Thou art not serious?" Marayr's eyes had grown wide as saucers.
   "No!" Serenity bit out sharply.  "Immie is convinced that Prince 
Endymion of Dalayne is to marry me."
   "Well, perhaps he is," Artana said, eyes sparking with interest.  
"After all, why else would he come?"
   Serenity opened her mouth to reply . . . only to find that she had 
no ready answer.

   The evening was splendid, the ladies and lords all decked out in 
their finest attire, the banquet tables covered in food enough to 
feed an army and delectable enough to feed a king.
   Serenity and the others were stunning to behold and the princess 
was the center of attention, shining like a sun amidst the chaos of a 
dark galaxy.  Guests orbited her, especially young lords come for the 
feast, eager to bathe in the light of her smile.  Annoyed by all of 
the attention they were paying her, Endymion broke through, and 
bowing gallantly before her, resplendent in his golden tunic and 
cape, he smiled and said:
   "Might I have the honor of this dance, fair princess?"
   Serenity smiled and hesitantly took his hand.
   The other hopeful suitors grumbled, for the princess had yet to 
dance with anyone but her father, but when Endymion shot them a dark 
look, they shut their mouths and looked away.
   He drew her gracefully out onto the dance floor and as soon as he 
lead her into a waltz, she forgot about anything else but the fact 
that he was a fine dancer and *very* handsome.  But the dark blue of 
his eyes disturbed her . . . it was as though she had seen them 
before.
   They did not talk, but his eyes never left her.  She had the 
feeling that he knew all the things that she did not say, and so, she 
did not have to say them.  It struck her that she would be perfectly 
content dancing with him forever . . . or as long as the music 
continued.

   The other ladies marveled at what a fine couple the prince and 
princess made as her parents smiled benignly on the pair.  Her 
friends did not bother to watch her, sighing instead for they had not 
yet been asked to dance.

   "Guardian Nephrayn," Immara said serenely, curtsying politely as 
he approached her.
   He bowed, then draped a necklace about her neck.  "A deathgift is 
sacred.  No one should have possession of this but thee."
   "The clasp . . . 'tis fixed!" she exclaimed, delighted.
   "I'm quite familiar with the smithing trade," he said honestly.  
He had spent a great deal of time with the town smith as a child . . 
. since the smith's daughter was a rather pretty little thing.  He 
*had* fixed the necklace by himself, feeling more than a little 
guilty.
   "Thank thee," Immara said quietly, ashamed of her previous 
behavior.
   "Thank me with a dance," Nephrayn suggested, smiling a little.
   She smiled back at him and took the hand he offered.  "I would be 
delighted, sir Guardian."
   The other girls watched as they began to dance.

   Marayr gazed longingly at the whirling couples and Zoyzer, 
catching sight of her, discreetly made his way to her side.  "Good 
evening," he said politely and she turned, a little startled.
   Her face blossomed into a smile.  "Good evening.  One would almost 
think thee a lord, sir, thou lookst so fine in thy rainments."
   Zoyzer grimaced internally.  <Moron!  Why did I come as this . . . 
a Guardian?  Better a court jester . . . then I could make her laugh.  
But this?  What I would give for my title back at this instant!>  
"Thou art most kind and most beautiful, lady."  His eyes, a startling 
emerald green, met hers.
   She looked down, a flush coloring her cheeks.  "I knowst thou . . 
. charmer, flatterer, rogue."
   "Thou hast categorized me well.  Come, a waltz?  Surely my lowly 
station in life wilt not offend thee to any great degree?"
   "No, it wilt not."
   He pulled her quickly to him, still gentle as he lead her onto the 
dance floor.  Marayr whispered into his ear, "Thou art holding me too 
closely, Guardian.  I am not offended, but 'tis scandalous."
   "I am a Guardian, lady.  I guard and protect.  Surely, nothing 
needs close protection more than a treasure such as thee?"
   Her face turned crimson, but luckily, he could not see it.  "Given 
more than tonight and other than I, I am sure that thou would have 
charmed a lady so much that she would have fallen quite hard for 
thee."
   He grinned.  "Give me but tonight, and only thee, and we wilt see 
what I am capable of accomplishing."

   One of Serenity's suitors, glaring ominously at Endymion, 
approached Artana and asked for a dance.  Kunzyn stopped short in his 
walk to her and turned to go, but she saw him and smiled 
apologetically, over her dancing partner's shoulder.  "The next one," 
she mouthed to him.  He nodded in confirmation.

   That left only Raslym who had spoken to Harmony and Odele for a 
time, argued with Simyra over the merits of baked fish over fried, 
and had finally grabbed the nearest single male she could find and 
requested a dance.  He obliged her reluctantly, for Raslym's temper 
was widely known and feared.

   The dancers stopped as the song ended and the musicians took a 
break.  As everyone clapped politely, Raslym's partner quickly made 
some excuses and left.  Fuming, she stalked over to a waiter and 
reached for a glass of wine on his tray before Harmony handed it to 
her, with a laugh.  The dark-haired girl brightened up a bit and 
chatted a little more amiably with Harmony and Odele.  Off to one 
side of the room, Immara and Nephrayn shared a laugh at some private 
joke, while Zoyzer busily complimented Marayr, causing her to blush 
even more.  Artana's dancing partner dragged her off to fetch some 
drinks while Kunzyn doggedly followed her through the mass of people, 
thinking dark thoughts about uppity young lords.  And Monica did 
whatever she had to in order to avoid Aros, who had, surprisingly 
enough, come alone.
   In all the commotion, no one noticed as Endymion and Serenity 
stepped outside for a breath of air.

   They wandered around the courtyards for a little while, drinking 
in the rich scent of early roses and the feeling of the cool evening.  
Serenity smiled unconsciously to herself, her hand pulling on her 
charm - an action that Endymion noted with great satisfaction.
   When they had reached a particularly concealing garden, he stopped 
her and opened his hand to reveal a beautiful pearl bracelet.  
Serenity drew a breath in delight.  The prince placed the bracelet 
around her wrist, knowing it suited her.  "A gift . . . for thee."
   "A Nameday gift?" she asked, pleased.
   "No, Serenity," he whispered, his words husky and breathless with 
the endearment of her name.  An endearment that he could not keep 
from meaning all that it was to him . . .  His voice sounded as 
though her name was a joy not to be borne.
   "Why dost thou say it like that?" she murmured, wonderingly.  "I 
have never heard it said so.  As though . . . as though it was the 
first word ever uttered by man on Earth . . . as though thou art 
saying it to be selfish, to keep it all to thyself.  Why dost thou 
say it so?"
   "Because I am being selfish.  Because I do want to keep it all to 
myself."  He placed his thumb under her chin and ran a finger around 
the curve of her jawline, over her lips.  "I want thee all to myself.  
I want nothing else to be able to touch thee, to see thee, to make 
any type of claim on thee.  I want thee so."
   "Why?" she whispered, unable to understand.  "Why dost thou feel 
this way?"
   "It is the way I want thee.  It is the way I love thee."  Intense 
dark blue eyes gazed into trembling light blue ones.
   "What is the bracelet a gift for?" she demanded all of sudden.  
"What gives thee the right to say such things to me . . . and mean 
them, here in my own home?  Tell me, prince . . .  Tell me the 
truth."
   "It is a betrothal gift.  Thy parents and mine arranged for us to 
be wed upon thy birth . . . before mine were killed.  We are to be 
wed, princess.  Dost thou hate me?  I shall not ask if thou canst 
love me . . . the answer would be too cruel . . . but as for the 
other . . . dost thou hate me?"
   "No," she said softly, "I cannot hate thee.  Thou hast done 
nothing, but speak the truth to me.  I can only ask . . . how canst 
thou love me, despite everything?  It is not thy own free choice."
   He gazed at her longingly.  "Despite what thou might think . . . 
might believe to be true . . . it is."
   "But it is not for me."
   He shut his eyes.  "No.  I wish it had been otherwise.  I wish 
that thou might have come to love me on thy own accord."
   "Mayhap a chance still exists for that.  But until then, I cannot 
accept thy gift."  She pulled off the bracelet and handed it to him, 
but he closed her fingers about it.
   "Keep it . . . as a token of my esteem . . . as a Nameday present 
. . . whatever thou wishes to think of it . . . just keep it."
   She wanted to protest, but decided against it, hearing the pain in 
his voice.  "I am truly sorry."
   He smiled grimly back at her.  "I have not lost yet."  He bent and 
kissed her long and lingeringly on the lips, wanting her to feel what 
he felt.  As he pulled away, he felt her reluctance to part from him 
and allowed himself a bit of smug satisfaction.  But as he stared at 
her, the satisfaction vanished and he could feel nothing but his 
desperate longing for her.  "Good night, princess."  He whirled about 
and walked away, his cape fluttering behind him.
   She stared after him, feeling the chill of the evening all of a 
sudden.  Her heart pounded madly in her chest and blood rushed in her 
ears.  <Endymion . . . no man has ever made me feel this way . . . 
but thee.>
   She turned to look at the bracelet in her hand which shone with a 
white, luminescent light in the darkness.  Tears filled her eyes as 
she realized its importance.  "Endymion, thou hast pledged thyself to 
me.  As my champion . . .  Why wouldst thou do such a thing?  To 
swear thyself to one woman only . . . one who does not love thee?"
   "A man in love does many things, princess."
   Serenity whirled about, the bracelet clutched tightly to her.  
"Who art thou that speakest to me?"
   A form materialized from the shadows, walking towards her.
   "Jadyrn," she whispered, eyes wide.
   "Your Highness."  He executed a respectful bow.  She curtsied 
politely in turn, the formal politeness too much a part of her to 
forget, even at such a confusing time.  "Princess Serenity," his eyes 
narrowed as he spoke and she wondered at their hardness, "do not 
trifle with the prince if thou must not.  He wilt be too easily 
crushed by thee."
   "I have no intention of trifling with His Royal Highness.  I have 
given him my answer, and he refuses to accept it.  There is nothing 
more to be done."
   Jadyrn smiled, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.  The smile 
wast not pleasant, nor menacing, merely impersonal.  "Art thou sure, 
princess?"
   "The bracelet."  She held it out to him.  "Return it to thy 
prince.  He wilt not accept its return from me."
   "Then he shall certainly not accept it from I.  Keep it, Your 
Highness."
   Serenity pulled her hand back slowly, reluctantly.  "Thou sayst 
one thing, and then another!  Why dost thou speakst so - in riddles?"
   "Riddles art easily solved, upon the finding of the answer."
   Her eyes blazed angrily and she turned her back to him, striding 
away.  "Good night, sir Guardian!  I have no more to say to thee."
   "Good night, princess.  One last thing . . ."
   "Yes?" she called without looking back.
   "Take care of him.  Even a champion may need a champion 
sometimes."
   "What meanst thou?  Thou art his Guardian!  Jadyrn?"  She turned, 
but he was gone.

   Darkness massed beyond the castle walls, silent figures muffled 
the sound of horses the stealthy color of shadows, and a man with 
hair the color of fire issued a low, throaty order.  "Scale the 
walls!"
   Grappling hooks flew up through the air, the clink of metal on 
stone going unheard over the noises of revelry and laughter.  A 
sentry high atop the battlements ran towards the fire pit, attempting 
to light the flames that would alert the inhabitants to an invasion, 
but a lone figure waiting directly in his path struck him hard and he 
toppled over the walls to fall to the ground below without so much as 
a sound.  The invasion continued.

   Jadyrn turned from his place near the doorway where he stood with 
a glass of wine, fully attired in his armor, watching one dark-haired 
guest in particular.  He set down the wine gently on a nearby table 
and strode out swiftly.
   His departure did not go unnoticed by the other three.  Alarms 
went off in their minds and under their breaths they swore, politely 
excusing themselves from their dancing partners.  Kunzyn shot an 
apologetic look Artana's way, and she looked at him, her eyes 
narrowing in sudden understanding.  She apologized quickly to her 
partner and quietly began to follow the white-haired man.
   Lady Immara stayed Nephrayn with her arms around him and gazed 
anxiously up at him.  "What is wrong?" she murmured softly, so no one 
else could hear.
   "Do not trouble yourself, Lady Immara," he responded, trying to 
mask the urgency underlining his voice.  "Enjoy yourself.  The others 
and I will take care of it."  He hesitated for a moment, his eyes 
softening a little.  "Stay here . . . the trouble will most likely 
not get this far."
   Not believing him, she reluctantly let go of him and pausing 
briefly, he kissed her wrist in passing.
   Startled, she looked after him.  That had not been a casual act . 
. .

   "Jadyrn - HOLD!" Kunzyn commanded, as Zoyzer, Nephrayn, and he ran 
to catch up to the blonde running up ahead of them.
   Jadyrn slowed to a stop, his eyes scanning the castle, as the 
others caught up.
   "What dost thou sense?" Kunzyn said in a low voice, looking about 
as well.
   Jadyrn did not respond for a moment, his grip tightening on his 
sword hilt.  "Where is Endymion?"
   The other three exchanged a look.  Nephrayn spoke first.  "I have 
not seen him since early this evening."
   "Nor have I," Zoyzer seconded.
   "Dammit!"  Kunzyn ground his teeth together.  "That damn fool!"
   "Nay, we are the fools," Jadyrn responded evenly.  "To leave him 
unattended.  I last saw him in the gardens.  Kunzyn, if it would suit 
thee to send Zoyzer and Nephrayn to seek him out?"
   "Aye.  Get thee gone, the two of thee!"  Nephrayn and Zoyzer were 
quick to obey their superior's commands, moving quickly towards the 
gardens.  "Now, what dost thou sense?"
   "Thou knowst full well, Kunzyn."  Jadyrn resumed walking at a 
brisk pace, his hand still on the sword at his side.  "Prepare 
thyself."
   "And when have I been caught unawares?"
   Dark figures materialized from the gloom, their blades glittering 
in the night, and the red-haired man at their head laughed harshly, 
saying, "Now."
   Two arcs of silver steel shone as the long blades were pulled out 
as one to be pointed at their adversaries.  The fire in grey and blue 
eyes flickered fiercely.
   Kunzyn's next words were hard and low, as he ran forward, his 
deadly blade shining.  "Time to play."

   Nephrayn and Zoyzer looked about anxiously for their prince.
   "Endymion!"
   "Your Highness!"
   "Where the heck is he?"
   The elder lord turned to look at the younger.  "Wherever he is, we 
had better find him soon."
   "You will never find your prince!" a course voice snarled 
gratingly.
   Nephrayn turned and quickly gave a half-bow, mockingly.  As he 
straightened he drew forth his sword.  Zoyzer already had his blade 
in his hand.  The blonde was smirking as the two lords simultaneously 
mock-saluted their adversaries with their swords.
   "Where is he?" Zoyzer demanded, still smiling, but dangerously 
now.
   "You'll never know!  He's dead, you fools!  Did you think we would 
leave him alive?"  The mercenaries snickered as their leader spoke.  
They were hardened warriors, clothed in black leather and bits and 
pieces of armor they had taken off of the rotting corpses of the men 
they had killed.  Scars covered their bodies and faces and their ugly 
personalities were mirrored in their equally ugly appearances.
   "Well, gentlemen," Nephrayn began, his voice dripping with 
sarcasm, "if thou wouldst kindly step this way, my friend and I would 
enjoy *beating* the information out of thee."
   "D'you hear that, boys?  He's gonna beat us!"  The mercenaries 
laughed harder, but clutched their weapons a little more tightly in 
preparation.
   "Damned Mrrukians," Zoyzer muttered under his breath.
   Nephrayn looked over at his friend.  "Oh, they're damned all 
right.  And soon enough they'll know it - in Hell!"
   "All right, loudmouth - and you too, pretty boy -" the Mrrukian 
leader yelled, "I'm done laughing now, so you've only got a few 
moments left to live.  Better pray to your gods!"
   Nephrayn and Zoyzer exchanged skeptical looks.
   "That tired old line?" Nephrayn muttered.  "May I never live to 
hear it again if *that's* all the scum of today can think of as a 
challenge!"
   "Don't worry, you won't have to worry about that soon enough, 
loudmouth!"
   And then, there was nothing but the glint of metal on metal and 
the clamor of battle in the courtyard.

   Immara stepped out of the ballroom, fear crowding her heart.  
Nearby, she heard the noise of battle, of curses and insults, of 
death.  She paused for an instant, the cool wind blowing about her 
and carrying to her the scents of bloodshed and the sound of agonized 
screams before she whirled back around.
   She came face to face with Harmony.

   "What's the matter, little cousin?"  But then Harmony heard it 
too, and stiffening, she let go of the hands around Immara's 
shoulders.  "Fighting?  Here?  Crap!"
   She turned to look over her shoulder as Odele and Simyra stepped 
out of the doorway in her wake.  They heard the sounds immediately as 
well.  The three locked eyes, then nodded abruptly, the festive mood 
vanishing instantly.
   "Go and warn the others," Harmony instructed Immara, giving her a 
shove towards the door.  "Go!  The royal family and everyone inside 
are in danger!"
   Immara stopped, glaring, as tears welled up in her eyes.  "Not 
thee, too!  Don't go, Harmony!"
   "Whoever's fighting needs help.  I have to go."
   "Everyone I have ever cared about dies on me!  Not thee . . . 
Harmony.  Swear it!  Swear that thou wilt not die!"
   Harmony smiled softly down at her.  "Thou art more child than 
woman, Immara.  I swear it.  After all, dear cousin, I am not known 
as Harm for nothing!"
   Immara looked away, towards Odele and Simyra.  Speaking to Odele, 
she said, "Take care of her . . . and of thyself."
   "I shall."  Odele smiled at the younger girl, her eyes full of 
confidence.
   Immara turned to Simyra.  "As for thee . . . no more bad news."
   Simyra looked at her silently, but the reassurance in her eyes 
lent Immara strength.  The girl turned to go.  "I shall see thee 
again."

   The warriors overwhelmed Kunzyn and Jadyrn, savagely slashing at 
them with their weapons.  But a good many fell before the two lords' 
swords and soon the ground was littered with the bodies of the dead.
   "Get to the others," Kunzyn ordered Jadyrn, his blade pressed 
against another's.  "There are too many!  We can't hold them off 
forever!  Warn who thou canst and save who thou must."
   Jadyrn frowned.  "And thee?"
   "Never mind me!  Wilt thou go already?!"
   The blonde lord finished his opponents off quickly, then knocking 
down two in the first row by ramming them in the face with his arm, 
he tripped up the next few.  He ran back towards the palace, the 
sound of Kunzyn's lone sword against a dozen more driving him on.

   Artana watched as a ring of soldiers surrounded Kunzyn.  Grabbing 
a large branch lying on the ground, she ran from her hiding place 
behind the next wall and yelling loudly, smashed the branch down on 
the nearest helmeted head.  Unfortunately, it splintered and the 
soldier turned around, a vicious growl starting in his throat.
   Kunzyn turned and sliced through him, before turning back to the 
battle.  Artana ran up behind him, clutching the remains of her 
branch.
   "Come to hinder me, hast thou?" he asked.
   "To help thee!" she protested.
   "Not really."
   Her eyes blazed.  Then she lashed out at the nearest soldier with 
a kick, knocking him down.  Kunzyn didn't question her, merely moved 
closer, his stance protective.  Whatever else she was, she was still 
a woman, and he would protect her until his death . . . which didn't 
look all that far away. 

   Nephrayn stumbled as Zoyzer pushed him out of the way.  The 
mercenaries fell on the blonde murderously and Nephrayn tried to 
shout, to stop them, but found that the Mrrukians were already 
pouring into the next courtyard, headed for the castle.
   "Dammit!" he swore, running after them.

   Immara burst into the ballroom.  "Invaders . . . ON THEIR WAY!!!" 
she shouted.  "Run, quickly!  We need a defense force!"
   "It's too late for that, girl," a voice called from behind her.  
Immara turned, her eyes widening in fear as the red-haired man 
laughed, and three armored soldiers threw three motionless bodies at 
her feet.  She sunk to her knees, checking their pulses.  They were 
still alive . . . but barely so.
   As she stared at the battered and bloody form of her cousin, tears 
filled her eyes and she surged to her feet.  "MONSTER!!!" she 
screamed, flinging herself at him and striking him with her fists.
   He laughed and struck her away.  "Now then," he said sinisterly, 
"shall I state my terms?"
   The king and queen stepped forward.
   "Do not harm these people," the king stated firmly.  "They are 
innocent and pose no threat to thee."
   The red-haired man spat on the ground derisively, still laughing.  
"*This* is how you defend thyselves?  This mockery of a resistance?"
   "What wilt thou do with us?" the queen asked, calmly.
   The red-haired man looked to his men, smirking.  He jerked his 
head towards the royal couple.  "Kill them!"
   A handful of men at the forefront ran forward and impaled their 
blades, then pulled them back savagely.  Red blood spurted forth as 
the king and queen fell to the ground, their hands covered with blood 
as they tried to cover up their wounds.
   Serenity screamed.
   Instantly, everyone's eyes turned to her.  Raslym tried to 
restrain her, to keep her quiet and safe from harm but Serenity broke 
her friend's hold and, tears streaming from her eyes, said in the 
hardest, coldest voice imaginable, "I shall kill thee.  That day 
might not be now, but soon.  On that day, thou wilt know what it 
means to fear.  And thou wilt fear *me* for thy death wilt be shining 
back at thee from mine eyes." 
   "Kill her too," he said casually.
   Serenity saw the men approaching her and her eyes grew wide, but 
she ducked under them and fled down one of the hallways.  Raslym gave 
chase, as did four of the mercenaries.

   Serenity pounded down the corridor and turned down another hall 
and another one until she reached an exit leading out the back into 
the gardens beyond which lay the woods.  She dashed into the night, 
sobs wracking her body, heedless of where she was headed.
   "SERENITY!!!" Raslym shouted, chasing her, struggling with the 
skirt of her long red dress, and fearful of the following soldiers.  
"SERENITY, COME BACK!!!"
   Serenity paid her order no heed, tears streaming from her eyes, 
blood like ice running through her veins.  Her charm sparkled eerily 
in the light of the moon.  As she made her way through the forest, 
branches clawed at her, ripping at her arms and legs, tearing her 
dress.  Uncaring, she ran on, into the night.
   Finally, she reached a point where she could run no longer and 
bent over, taking shallow, labored breaths, her chest aching.  
Looking up she saw where she had ended up.  The forest gate.
   "Goddess," she whispered, staring up at the tall, dark gate.  
Unconsciously, she had stumbled across the trail that her ancestors 
had used, fleeing from their enemies so many years ago.  <I am 
following their footsteps,> she thought dimly.  Once again her 
attention turned to the gate.
   There was no way around it.
   She yanked at the door but it refused to budge, anchored firmly in 
place by leaves and dirt, and the neglect of seven centuries.  
Feeling trapped, she brushed away the debris piled up at the bottom 
of the gate, then saw that it was locked.  Hopelessness overwhelmed 
her.  The key, if there had ever been one, had been lost years ago.
   "Please, there must be some way around this!"
   Her charm shone dimly.
   She stretched out a hand to touch the rusted lock and it crumbled 
at her touch, turning to dust.  Startled, she pulled away, but as the 
sounds of pursuit grew closer, she ran forwards, fumbling with the 
overgrown gate and finally getting it free.
   Running through, she found the trail and sped down it for awhile 
before going through the woods again and running farther down.  
Finally, she stopped, deep in the woods and stared into the distance 
where a red light lit the night sky.

   Her castle burned.

   "Princess Serenity."  The voice was low and intense.
   She turned, tears trickling down her face.  Then she caught sight 
of him, and with a shocked gasp as her hands flew to her mouth and 
her eyes widened, she ran into his waiting arms.
   "Endymion," she murmured as she catapulted into him and he wrapped 
his arms around her.  "It's gone, all of it!" she sobbed into his 
arms.  He let her cry.  "Endymion," she whispered, feeling warm and 
safe all of a sudden.  Then the exhaustion of everything that had 
occurred overtook her and she lost her hold on consciousness.
   "It's all right, Serenity," he soothed, holding her limp body to 
him.  "I shall protect thee, Serenity . . . always."


To be continued . . .

Okay, I know I told some of you I'd have something out weeks ago, but 
. . . oh, just don't ask.  I was off-line for about a month before 
that, and it's just a long boring story.  I *tried* my hardest . . . 
seriously.  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this part and for all of you 
who are waiting not-so-patiently for the next part of "IAL: TLB" hang 
on just a little bit longer . . .  Thank you!

P.S. I'm going to answer all of my mail soon, promise!  (I'm so 
behind!!!  ^^;;;;)