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Returning to earth, a wave of nausea washed over Babylon. He reverted to his civilian glamour just in time to go dry heave into the bushes. Well, he thought, standing, at least he hadn't brought anything up. Due to rules about not henshining in the house, Finn was far from home, and he felt a bit wobbly on his feet.

Besides, he thought, feeling the lingering warmth in his fingers and toes and at the center of his chest. He'd done something amazing tonight! And amazing things deserved to be shared. As he headed towards the edge of the park, he tried to think of who would be impressed to know what he'd done. Elke, for sure, but at this time of night she'd either be asleep or incommunicado and he wanted her full attention.

Zia, then, he decided. She was something of a magical scientist (magicologist?) and had more experience than anyone else when it came to messing with starseeds and souls. Besides, her apartment was close.

Babylon was grander, before the fall, said Menachem, as Finn cast his gaze towards downtown Destiny City. Every city on Mercury was grander then than any city on earth could hope to be.

"We'll catch you up," said Finn, feeling a bit odd talking to himself. At least it was dark and the streets mostly deserted.

Upon reaching Zia's building, he rang the bell for her apartment and leaned against the wall beside the door. His head was spinning, doubtless the result of his ancestor making space for himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be like this the whole time he was trying to find a way to the cauldron. "Hey," he called to the intercom. "It's Finn. Can you let me up? I did something you might find kinda interesting and I don't feel so great."

It was rare for Finn to wind up anywhere so fancy as Zia's penthouse, and he felt increasingly awkward as he was ushered past security and into the private elevators.The awkwardness eased a little once he was finally upstairs and into the home, eying a cat that was eying him back. "Yeah," he said, holding his nose and blowing briefly - his ears had popped in the elevator. "I'm okay."

For a certain measure of okay. He was a little bit nauseous. "So, I made some progress with my ancestor," he said, and felt bile in his throat. Crap. Finn swallowed awkwardly and tried to pretend it wasn't an issue. "Like, a lot of progress." The bile rose again. Not good. "Sorry," he said, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Sorry, I need to sit down for a second. And, um, water?"

He did not want to puke all over Zia's floor. That would be so, so awful. He swallowed again, and managed to force it down for the time being.

"So, I found his starseed," he said, lowering his hands a little. "And I needed a way to transport it, so I kind of. Uh. Put it inside my chest." Which he really, sincerely hoped was not going to kill him at this junction, because he still had a lot of work to do. Anyway, he shrugged and waited for her reaction to that bit of news, because really, there was not much he could possibly add to top that.

Finn reached up and helpfully undid the buttons on his polo, although he wasn't sure what that was going to prove. There wasn't a mystical glowing scar carved out of his chest hair. He'd wanted that water, but, given the circumstances, he didn't blame her.

It was entirely possible that Finn had not fully considered exactly who he was going to for help. There were a lot of things Finn had not fully considered. "Uh," he said uncertainly, rubbing the back of his head. "Seemed like a good idea, like less than an hour, made up my mind to do it today, I don't think so, and no? Was that everything?"

She'd kind of asked a lot of questions, and Finn hoped he'd covered all of them but he was starting to suspect they were all rhetorical. And anyway, none of his answers could really make up for the fact that all of them were absolutely shitty. He hand't thought this out at all and Zia's reaction was completely warranted.

"I don't have an endgame," he confessed, sitting awkwardly on the couch. Crap, none of the furniture around here looked like it was actually meant to be used. "Well, I do," he corrected. "Get back to the cauldron." It was not much of an endgame. He did not know how to get a starseed out of his chest short of asking a friendly neighborhood negaverser to do it, which- Did he know any of those? Titan, Finn thought. Maybe. It wasn't really workable. But - something would work out. He'd bumbled his way this far.

He glanced sheepishly up at her. "I think I can make this work," he said, realizing that probably would not inspire much confidence. Or, you know, invite further abuse.

Finn tried to think of, like, a cute response to her question? But he was still fighting rolling waves of nausea and trying to get comfortable on the couch. So he said, "I think so."

At the back of his head, Menachem intoned, I remember this girl. You brought her to Babylon.

Finn blinked. "He, uh, remembers the time I took you to Mercury," he told Zia. Which was weird, because he didn't remember seeing his ancestor that trip. But then, just because you couldn't see something didn't mean it didn't exist, and Menachem's connection to their shared wonder had been deeper than he'd ever anticipated before. His starseed had lain at the bottom of the well for a thousand years. The whole city had been functionally his body.

Which was sort of horrifying but also made a lot of sense. Cosmic terror: it's what for dinner.

She was odd, continued his ancestor. Like a Mauvian but not. It'd like to speak to her.

Finn wasn't really sure how that would work, but he was discovering a lot of new stuff he wouldn't have thought possible even this morning. "He wants to talk to you," he said. "If you're okay with that?"

"Menachem," said Finn, not sure how his ancestor planned to actually talk to Zia but sure he was about to find out. "Um, I'm not sure," he added, biting his lip. "Maybe he just expects me to mediate? I'll find out."

Finn closed his eyes, but before he could question his ancestor at all, he felt a little switch click at the back of his head.

Menachem opened his eyes, which were now glowing, faintly, with blue light. His body language was different from Finn's - his back straighter, his movements more purposeful and less fidgety. "That's interesting," he said, almost to himself, as he opened and closed his hands experimentally. "This is strange magic." Perhaps this observation was meant for Zia's benefit. "I've never seen anything quite like it before."

He settled his hands back into his lap, folded neatly in a way that was distinctly un-Finnlike, and then shifted his focus to Zia. "I am curious about you," he said. "Like I am certain you must be curious about me. The galaxy was at war when I died, and reason stands that it is at war now, but I do not know the circumstances and the combatants are strange to me. You are no knight, nor are you Chaos, but neither are you White Moon. I have met many Mauvians. They were great inventors and explorers in my time. But you are unlike any I have ever encountered."

It was ultimately of little consequence, as he was on his way to the Space Cauldron should all things go smoothly, but curiosity was a trait prized among Mercurians. Menachem could not simply ignore his old tendencies towards inquiry.

"Strange," said Menachem, meaning it as an observation more than an insult. He'd never heard of a Mauvian beholden to neither the white moon nor corruption, but certainly they must exist. They had not seen an exceptional number of Mauvians in Babylon in his time, and the galaxy could certainly have changed a great deal in a thousand years. He supposed he'd only just barely begin to grasp the new state of things before returning to the cauldron, and then in a thousand years there'd be a whole new set of things to familiarize himself with.

"I was under the impression that this magic he'd cast was extremely experimental," he said, "But it's possible that you and your circumstances were an inspiration for his actions. At any rate, I am grateful beyond words. If not for him, I would have lingered trapped beneath the city for far longer."

He had a brief, greedy impulse to smother Finn, to talk his body and live the rest of his days happily beside Virgo, but- that would not be chivalrous, and was hardly a way to repay the boy for his selfless kindness. "I plan to make it to the cauldron," he said. "That is my intention, and I will strive until I make it my reality. My successor is the rightful knight of Babylon and has completed every test I have thought to throw at him. I have no right to usurp the position from him."

Though it had crossed his mind.

Her fidgeting drew his attention to the symbol at her collarbone. "That is the sign of the line of Alfheim," said Menachem, narrowing his eyes just slightly. It was strange. He could see the resemblance, if only slightly, the way he could see Aria in Finn from certain angles. "Are you related?"

Perhaps it was a different spell with the same results, considered Menachem, taking her statement about the universe next door in stride. It reminded him of a scientific paper he'd read once back on Mercury. The math had been extremely hypothetical, but the conclusion had been clear. It was difficult to shock the son of not one but two Mercurian knighthoods with mere facts about how the universe and the things beyond it worked.

A male heir in the house of Alfheim, on the other hand - that could surprise him. Menachem chuckled. "Your brother," he said. "I'm sure your ancestor is just thrilled about that. They were all women in my time. Something of a point of pride."

But then he hadn't been particularly impressed with his own heir to begin with.

"If by ancient you mean coming from the silver millennium, then yes, I suppose I am." he confirmed, "Although that is really a blink of an eye on the cosmic scale." As for other ancestors, he could only truly speak for himself - but he was willing to bet.

"So long as our lines continue, our vigils must be stood," he said. "That is my understanding. Perhaps there are some lines that are not extinct and yet their last knight has gone on to reincarnation anyway, but for the majority, it is as you said and as I experienced. We are bound to our wonders, awaiting the next heir to hold the title."

He sighed. "It is a long vigil to stand," he said. "And a lonely one."

Menachem chuckled at the notion. Although he had no idea what Zia's brother might look like, he knew the uniform in question. It was not made for a male figure. But her question about the war gave him pause.

After a while, he said, "It was more a rebellion than a war. A sorceress from Earth was jealous of the relationship between Princess Serenity and Endymion, the prince of Earth. Beryl had no reason to think the prince might ever love her in Serenity's stead, but hearts are irrational things. She made a pact with Chaos, and dragged the entire Academy down with her, forming her army out of fallen knights."

He sighed, history weighing heavily on him.

"Chaos is a dangerous enemy," he said. "For each time it conquers, it creates new followers. Wherever it finds darkness in men's hearts, it grows, and it is a persuasive master. This is a battle founded on little more than petty jealousy, and yet the war is as old as time itself."

He was uncertain whether the small, simple origins of the rebellion made it tragic or ridiculous. Perhaps both. He sighed. "It was not a war between the Earth and the Moon," he said. "It was a war between Darkness and Light. And it has always been. And it always will be."