A soft, whistling snore from the next room told Liliana that her parents were both soundly asleep. Good. Because she planned on being out for a lot longer than a couple of hours. And she planned on going a lot further away than simple patrolling in the park.

Liliana wanted answers. And those answers would be found only on Cruithne.

She’d thought long and hard since her last visit. And she’d come to the conclusion that her homeworld had had quite a large hand in handling healing and healers. Tonight, she wanted to prowl and see if she couldn’t find proof of her theory. After carefully closing the curtains of her room, she powered up in a familiar rush of warmth. Then, Chibi Sailor Cruithne took out her senshi phone, placed her thumb firmly on the center button and listened for her star.

The few breaths it took to travel to space would never cease to amaze her. Though that amazement had to take second place to the sheer wonder of being able to travel into space at all. Shivering a little, Cruithne found herself once again in the remains of the garden. Instinctively, she knew that she couldn’t force the visions to appear. But she could prowl and do her best to sift through the ruins and clean things up.

She rather thought that her planet enjoyed the attention. At least as much as a dead rock could enjoy anything. But it wasn’t always dead, she reminded herself. Surely if people and animals could leave ghostly imprints of themselves, a star could as well.

Turning her head this way and that, the chibi senshi thought that she’d continue to work on clearing up the spring. Making her way carefully to the tiny outflowing of clean water, she smiled faintly.

“Well, you’re running a little clearer, aren’t you? If I can figure out a way to move this big rock, I think you’ll be as close to your former self as possible.”

Kneeling, she studied the worst of the blockage. It wouldn’t be impossible to move on her own, simply time consuming. And as Syrma had proven when they met, even kid senshi were stronger than a normal kid. Pulling off her shoes to avoid tracking too much dirt into the water, Cruithne waded in, gasping a little at the shocking cold of the water. She’d try to get behind the rock and push it out. Then, perhaps, she could roll it the rest of the way.

Setting her feet firmly against the edge of the spring, Cruithne settled her shoulder against the stone, telling herself that Naer could have done this exact same feat with very little effort.

Thinking in terms of those terrible memories always gave her a little bit of mental vertigo, but thinking about the friends she’d had helped take some of the memories’ chill away. Grunting a little, she pushed and shoved at the rock as inch by grudgingly given inch, it moved.

Water burbled loudly as the rock moved and in spite of things, Cruithne laughed in delight. SHe was doing something worthwhile. She was helping.

That was when the vision struck. The spring returned to its full, shining glory as a handful of people with bloodied hands raced past, babbling in worried fear.

“Gather the trainees! I’ve never seen so many casualties. We need everyone! Move! Quickly!”

“But some of the children barely know basic first aid!”

“They can still hold flesh together so wounds can be stitched shut. Really, Rikard, you’re a fine teacher, but you’re hopeless outside of a classroom.”

Gasping, Cruithne was thrown out of the vision. Sitting abruptly in the middle of the spring, she leapt up again quickly and cursed softly as she tried to wring water from her fuku. She hadn’t clearly seen faces, but the words! She’d been right! Cruithne had been a planet of healing! And judging by the vision, a place to train healers. In spite of her state of dampness, Cruithne gave a little wriggle of delight. She’d been right! And her magic made much more sense to her now. Why bother with offensive magic if the star you were guardian of was a peaceful place for healing?

Glancing at the rock, Cruithne gave a nod of satisfaction. Yes, she could roll it out of the spring now without too much trouble. She proceeded to do just that, enjoying her work. Once that task was done she put her shoes back on and paced the edge of the spring.

Something still felt like it was missing. There was something else she needed to do, but what?

Almost on the heels of that silent question, another vision manifested, rocking her off of her feet.

“Trelisande! Come quickly, please! The boy is rejecting the healing. We need you!”

Cruithne turned to see a harried, older woman standing there, wringing her hands fretfully.

“Yes, of course I’ll come, Des. Go on ‘head. I’ll meet you there.”

The voice was Cruithne’s own soft voice. But that hated stammer was absent. Cruithne watched the woman, no… Des, hurry back the way she’d come. What a pity that such a thing had to happen and distract her from the peaceful softness of the evening. Somehow, she managed to both both quickly and gracefully as she made a beeline for the garden alcove. If the patient was fighting so very hard, it might be a sign of terrible emotional or mental pain. Such things always made tending to the physical wounds much harder. Still, poor boy, it wasn’t his fault.

Entering a prayer alcove deep within the gardens, Cruithne knelt before the statue of a graceful woman and gently touched her fingertips rhythmically to the base of the statue. Within moments a secret compartment opened and a tiny beautifully carved amethyst bottle was revealed. She hated to use the Cordial, it always felt a little like cheating. But there was no denying that in some cases it was the only thing that helped. Taking up the bottle, Cruithne tucked it safely into her robes and then fairly darted for the Infirmary. Des was so very competent. She would never have sought Cruithne out unless the need was dire.

Once across the grounds and inside the white marble doorway, Cruithne cast about for the boy she was to see to. Distant yells and curses reached her ears and without hesitation she went toward them. Lavender colored veins within the white marble seemed to beckon her on with gentle urgency. The yells became louder and were now punctuated by the sharp sounds of breaking glass.

Well, that was hardly a good sign.

Quickening her pace, Cruithne soon found a distraught Des standing just outside of a patient’s room, obviously begging the occupant to calm themselves, to let her help.

“Please, child! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Get out, witch! You won’t take me the way you took the others! I’ll fight you with my last breath!”

Pausing, Cruithne caught Des’ attention and silently motioned her to step out of the boy’s view. Then, drawing a deep breath, she cautiously poked her head around the door, ready to pull back in case of projectiles. Smiling gently as the slight, black-haired boy inside, she carefully stepped into full view, watching his eyes narrow as he studied her warily.

“Please, sir. This is a house of healing and I do have sick children just down the hall trying to sleep. I must ask you to lower your voice so as not to wake them.”

Another wary look, but he settled back into his bed.

“Are you another witch? Are you here to torment me as well?”

Still smiling, Cruithne floated a little closer and sat daintily in a chair near the bed. Keeping her hands visible, she shook her head in negation.

“I don’t know what you mean by witch, sir. I am the senshi of this place and I am here to see to your wounds, not to torment. Please, may I look? I may be able to ease some of your pain.”

The boy snorted softly, but didn’t seem to want to attack her, so that was good. Standing, she moved slowly, softly, as if the boy were a tiny, frightened animal. Tracing gentle fingertips against the most visible of his injuries, she winced in sympathy. She knew what the results of a lashing were, even if they didn’t hold with such things here. Well, at least no one in the Infirmary. Some of the wealthier families tended to enforce the laws their own way.

“Please, tell me what happened. I am going to clean these. If it hurts, tell me. I have plenty of soothing and numbing salves that will remedy the pain. I only wish to help you.”

Perhaps it was her youth, or her deftly gentle fingers, but the boy allowed her to begin cleaning the lash cuts. He was silent for a moment and she guessed that he was waiting to see what she would do before he gave her any information. So, to fill the silence and perhaps help to reassure him that he was safe, she began to speak in an almost conversational manner.

“I’m truly sorry if Des startled you. She is one of my most trusted helpers and the one person I trust above all to see that I am kept appraised of all that happens here.”

“She looks just like the crone that Aberforl keeps around,” the words slipped from his lips. Tensing instantly, he began to fidget as if eager to escape. Rather than let him, Cruithne placed the rag and bowl of water she’d been cleaning his wounds with down and set both her hands against his shoulders. Pushing him firmly back into the bed, her lips thinned out with a deep anger. Aberforl. Of course. Stubborn, cruel old goat! She’d have to see to him at some point.

“I assure you that Des is no Brillene. And I am certainly no Aberforl to whip anybody for not following stupid rules! I cannot tell you the number of times he’s created more work for my students and staff! Truly, a war would give me less damage to mend. Now speak! You are quite safe here.”

Resuming her task of wound tending, she studied each cut, relieved to note that none would require stitches. Merely some salve and bandages. But the boy’s mind, oh. That was going to take more than gentle fingers and soft words to heal.

“We were guards on his estate. Three of us. Aberforl chose us for punishment because we were the newest. I don’t know why. We were whipped, tormented., beaten. The others… the others… my brothers are gone…”

The boy began to weep softly and Cruithne gathered him into her shoulder, murmuring soothingly into his ear. She knew Aberforl’s reputation and this was the last time he’d be given reign to hurt anyone. The way the boy had said ‘brothers’. He hadn’t been referring just to friends. His family was gone. No wonder he’d reacted so poorly to Des! Poor thing. And because he was alive, he was punishing himself.

Feeling her eyes sting with tears, Cruithne fumbled about her robes until the tiny bottle of Cordial was in her hand. It wouldn’t take the pain away, oh no. But it would let him calm down enough to listen to her and perhaps believe her when she sat by his side and told him that none of this was his fault.

“Drink this, my poor boy. It will help, I promise. Just a drop or two, now, that’s it, that’s right. It’s all right. You’re safe now, I promise.”


Cruithne was thrown from the vision. Blinking her eyes, she half expected to see the boy’s sable head against her shoulder, to feel his tears. The person she had been had been so much more than a simple healer it would seem. Staring around at the ruined marble of what had once been a patient’s recovery room, she felt a deep sense of loss. And that strange little bottle… it seemed to float clearly in her mind’s eye. The war that had devastated this place had left so much in ruin. Could a tiny bottle like that have really survived?

If she put it back in the statute, maybe…

The statue! Cruithne knew that statue! She’d seen it on her very first visit and never dreamed that it was anything more than what it seemed. Staggering to her feet, the chibi senshi of lavender raced heedlessly back towards the gardens. Back to where she’d seen that statue. Stumbling over her own feet in her eagerness to kneel before the graceful figure, Cruithne ran a trembling hand over the statue’s base. Then, taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and allowed memory and instinct to take over, tracing her fingertips in the same way that her past self had done.

The gears within the stone were rusty, broken, but they worked well enough to allow the tiny door to slide open partway. Reaching inside, Cruithne felt her way carefully. Felt her questing fingertips brush against something small and oddly warm. With bated breath, she wrapped her fingers around it and slowly withdrew her hand. A faint glint of shining purple within her fingers told her that she’d found the amethyst bottle.

And an even fainter, pearlescent shine told her that the Cordial was still inside. Oh, now she had a way to truly help out in this war!

She had the Cordial!