Chapter One: Invitation

The air was dry and warm. It smelled of spring, of fresh rain and new grass. She could feel it, even within the confines of the city. It struggled against the smog and filth. For a while she was able to forget the bustling crowd far below--the rumble of car engines, the wordless murmurs of hundreds of wandering people.

At long last Hitomi sighed, taking her elbows off of the roof’s railing. Though classes had ended, track practice would begin soon. Her love of the sport had merely increased over the past three years, and yet she often escaped to this place on the roof before practice. It was a place of calm, where she could set all her thoughts into the correct space. She was beginning to come to this place more frequently.

"Hitomi?"

She turned, and gave her friend a confident smile. "I’m fine, Mariko. Let’s go to practice."

---

Van stepped back from the balcony with a sigh. "She’s doing all right," he murmured to the sky, fitting a soft smile onto his lips. "She’ll be all right. That’s what matters."

Merle smiled at him sadly. "Uh-huh."

"I guess everyone’s waiting for me."

"Uh-huh."

Van and Merle returned to the interior of the castle together. The court waited patiently for him to take his seat on the throne, as they were by now used to these short recesses. They knew that he needed them. At a young age Van had become an honorable, capable king, returning Fanelia nearly to its previous state. And though his companion Merle was the only one who could claim to understand him, they respected his need for privacy.

"Your Majesty," one of his advisors began once everyone had settled, "the aqueducts on the northern border have been completed and are functioning properly."

Van nodded in approval. "Good. And what about the south? The palisades?"

"Also completed. The city’s nearly on its feet, thanks to you, Sire."

He acknowledged this praise only briefly. "And to the workers, of course. What else?"

Another advisor stepped forward. "As requested, an invitation was sent out to Asturia. They have yet to respond."

"Thank you." The king smiled nostalgically. It will be good to see him again. He settled into his throne, listening attentively as the daily reports continued.

---

Celena strode confidently into the center of the open field. Her left hand curled about the scabbard she held until her knuckles whitened. Once she’d reached her intended position, her grip loosened. Several deep breaths calmed and relaxed the rest of her muscles. She took only a moment to tie back her long, silver-blond hair away from her face. Slowly, she drew her sword. The soft hiss of the metal sent a shiver up her spine. She moved into a proper stance, each motion smooth and flawless yet with painstaking accuracy.

Allen Schezar watched from several meters away, his arms crossed and lips pursed, as his sister began the complex series of movements. Beside him, Gaddess whistled in appreciation of her nearly perfect form. "She’s improved tremendously, hasn’t she?" he remarked.

Allen nodded grimly. "Yes. It’s almost alarming. The lessons I’ve taught her are the same as those Balgus taught me when I was her age. Sometimes even more advanced than that."

He hummed thoughtfully. "So, does that mean she’s as good as you?"

"All she lacks is experience."

Celena paused, regaining her breath and wiping her palms on her brown trousers. When she noticed the two men watching her she waved, a gesture they returned. She smiled and adjusted her grip for the next exercise.

"You know, Boss, I can’t help but wonder," spoke Gaddess after some time. "Do you think this was a good idea? Teaching Celena to fight and all."

"Honestly, I don’t know." Allen’s expression became troubled. "She hasn’t shown any signs of having Dilandau’s memories or personality, but…she’s different than the Celena I knew as a child. I’m not sure if it’s a result of the sorcerers or simply the time that’s passed between us."

"Such as?"

He sighed through his nose. "As a child Celena was very shy, as I remember. I was the only one she trusted. Now she’s become outgoing, and witty. She loves attention, and she still can’t stand to be alone for very long."

"Sounds like an insecure teenager, if you ask me," Gaddess replied. "As I understand it, you went through quite a few changes during your teenage years."

His comment managed to raise a smile to the knight’s surface. "I suppose you’re right."

"You are awful protective of her. It’s just paranoia."

Allen nodded, his eyes growing distant. "But…there’s no mistaking the style in which she fights," he said quietly, watching the reflections of light off of Celena’s polished blade. "I fought…him…too many times to forget. And what’s more, I can tell that she’s still fighting beneath her full potential."

"Brother!" Celena ran up to them, waving and laughing. "Brother, did you see? Am I getting better? I think I’m ready for the next lesson."

"Not yet," Allen told her with gentle firmness. Despite all his misgivings, whenever she smiled at him that way, his fears were dissolved. Surely this was his Celena. "But soon."

Her wide blue eyes sparkled with excitement. "And the Guymelefs? When will I get to--"

"Not until you’ve finished your sword training," he interrupted, patting her shoulder. "Why don’t you go through that last set once more, and then we’ll spar."

"Alright." Grinning broadly, she turned and left to continue her training.

Gaddess scratched his chin and smirked. "You have to admit, though," he laughed, "that she’s grown into quite a woman. She’s got a terrific body."

"Gaddess!" Allen sputtered in exasperation.

"Sorry. You shouldn’t be thinking about your sister that way, anyway. Well, I gotta check up on the boys--you know what they’re like when they’re by themselves."

"Of course." Allen crossed his arms. He suddenly began to scrutinize his old friend very closely.

Gaddess couldn’t help but laugh. "Sorry Boss, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the only one who thinks so. But don’t worry--she’s a good girl, and no one would try anything with the sister of Allen Schezar." He slapped his shoulder. "See ya later."

The knight’s temperament didn’t lighten. "Sure. Take care."

Gaddess moved away, and soon after Allen drew his sword to join his sister. She delightedly took up the proper stance. She attacked, and their swords clanged.

Her strength has improved as well as her style, Allen thought, parrying her blade. She spun and struck again with a force that sent a tremble through his arm. I can’t believe she’s gained so much skill this quickly. When she regained her senses after the war, she didn’t even remember how to hold a sword. But now….

They locked swords again, but this time Allen’s greater weight allowed him to force her easily back. Through some footwork that even he couldn’t follow, she managed to keep from being toppled. They parted, circled, then met again. "Don’t be in such a rush," Allen advised over their blades. "Concentrate. And don’t leave yourself open."

He struck horizontally, catching Celena’s weapon by the hilt and wrenching it from her grasp. It pinwheeled away and stuck into the earth.

Celena stared after the sword first in surprise, then dismay. Her breath slowed. "You win again."

Allen smiled. "Someday, you’ll beat me," he told her with a laugh. "Now come on--you ought to be hungry."

"Not really." Celena retrieved her sword, and made careful work of cleaning the dirt from the blade. "I want to practice more, to perfect my style." She shot him an almost sinister look. "So you’ll teach me the next lesson."

Though he responded to her comment with a chuckle, something in his chest tightened with her words. "If you say so. But I’m a knight with duties--you’ll have to practice alone."

She paused, straightening visibly at those words. He knew it would be enough to convince her to return with him. But to his bewilderment, she turned a smile on him, and merely said, "Okay." She began her training once more.

Allen returned to the palace deep in thought. Celena isn’t just your little sister anymore, he repeatedly told himself. Gaddess did have one good point--she’s a woman now, and you can’t keep…sheltering her the way you do.

He had never told her the truth. In the chaos of the final battles of the war three years ago, covering Dilandau’s transformation was a simple matter. None of the soldiers had been close enough to tell certainly that what they saw exit the Oreades was not its original pilot. Thanks to Allen’s quick thinking, a plan was formed: he wasted no time in leaving the battlefield with Celena in tow, instructing his crew to alert the soldiers that Dilandau Albatou was being taken into custody. Once back in Palas, Millerna and her father were advised of the situation, and spread word that the former Dragonslayer captain had been executed as a war criminal. Celena was then taken immediately to the Schezar household on Palas’s outermost edge and kept in hiding for several weeks. During that time Allen made several trips to Zaibach with Asturia’s diplomats. Soon, the story circulating was that he had discovered his sister being held as a slave in a small Zaibach household.

And so, the truth was hidden without challenge or suspicion. Even more convenient was the state of Celena’s mind: after the battle she spent nearly a week bedridden, suffering from fever and hallucinations. When the illness had run its course, she remembered nothing of Dilandau, the Dragonslayers, or the war. The last images still in her brain were that of Jajuka, caring for her in the Zaibach holding facility. Allen supplied the necessary lies to help her piece together her life once more.

He hadn’t wanted to deceive her. But as weeks and then months slipped past without signs of Celena’s alternate personality reappearing, his decision proved to be an acceptable one. As the only ones who knew of the truth were the Asturian royal family, Van, the crew of the Crusade, and himself, there was little chance that the past would attempt to shade their present. It was best this way, to keep her from guilt.

Celena finally returned to the Schezar dwelling late that evening, her white top nearly soaked with sweat, her hands callused and blistered. "Dinne gave me this letter on the way in," she told her brother in his room. "It looks important." She held out the envelope--thick paper with gold trim that bore what appeared to be a royal seal.

"It’s from Fanelia," Allen mused, breaking the wax. He removed a formally written letter and scanned its contents.

"Well?" Celena asked impatiently. "What is it?"

He frowned. "An invitation to Fanelia’s capitol," he replied. "Apparently they’re holding a festival for the rebirth of Fanelia."

"Really? When?"

"Two weeks from now," he read.

Celena leaned against his desk, crossing one slim leg over the other. "We’ll attend, won’t we? I haven’t seen King Van in years."

Allen nodded vaguely, though his gaze was focused directly on his sister’s eyes. There had been no shift in her manner when speaking the young king’s name; he remembered a time when the boy’s death was all that mattered to her, though not of her own will. He’d avoided reuniting the two since the war out of fear of that nearly instinctual grudge resurfacing.

"If you want to," he answered carefully. "It only takes a few hours to reach Fanelia by air."

"Of course I want to go.  King Van’s an old friend of yours, right? It’ll be fun." She pushed away from the desk and took the letter out of his hand. "I’ll respond right away."

"Wait." Allen carefully pried the paper out of her fingers. "I’ll reply. There are some things I need to tell Van. I’ll be sure to relay your enthusiasm," he added.

Celena gazed at him curiously and nodded. "All right. I’m exhausted, so I’m going to bed. Good night."

"Good night, Celena." Once she’d left the room he read through the letter once more, then prepared to respond.

Celena set her weapon on its cradle before collapsing onto her bed. She released her breath in a low sigh. "He still treats me like a child," she muttered, stretching her weary muscles.

Across the room, Misshel glanced up from the shirt he’d been mending. For the past year he’d been her personal attendant, and her best friend, having been orphaned as a child and needing the work. Celena had accepted him because of his gentle personality and boyish face. Allen had approved because he was the only male servant he could trust not to make an advance on her, due to his preferences. In any case, he was good company, and a willing listener.

"You mean Allen?" the red-head asked.

"Yes. Always Allen." Celena crossed her arms behind her head. "He’s my brother, and I adore him--I really do--and they say I’m lucky he’s teaching me to fight at all, but…." She scrunched her nose in disgust. "It’s as if he’s got me locked up in a birdcage or something."

Misshel coughed sharply into his hand. "Well, you can’t really blame him. Having lost you for so long."

She heaved another sigh. "Not that that’s going to happen again." Abruptly she sat up and crossed her legs. "I’m not his little bird anymore. I can take care of myself. I want to meet people, and pilot Guymelefs in the competitions. I want to go out to those parties Princess Millerna invites us to. He’s such a bore."

"He’s a knight, not a courtier. What can you expect?" He lifted an eyebrow. "Besides, you always show him up at those parties."

Celena grinned at the hidden compliment. "It’s not my fault I have an exceptional singing voice," she giggled. "But seriously, if he tries to keep me locked up forever, I’ll go crazy!"

"You know, Celena," Misshel chuckled, "I think you’re a little crazy already."

She laughed, and said, "Thanks, kid. You always listen to me. I’m going to sleep now."

"Okay. G’night, lil’ bird."

"Oh, stop it. Good night." She laid down on her stomach, and settled in for the night.

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