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Chronos was not the only one to be visiting the dream world. Another figure walked through the field of flowers, a warm wind tugging gently at the folds of a white dress and strawberry blonde hair. Teal tassels and gold trinkets that had once belonged here in another time had recently been called back to this place, the same but different.

In Elysium, it was Rea's turn to take the backseat, allowing Helios to take the lead as they explored the beautiful sun-kissed land, their fingertips brushing the flowers as they walked. It was not the first time they had been back, but the occurrences were few and far between -- a rarity, to be able to remember. But when they found themselves back there, in the temple Helios knew so well, the feeling was unlike any other. Nowhere to be, no time to be there in -- time in dreams meant nothing. They could explore Elysium as they wished. It was all vaguely familiar, and yet she did not know any of its secrets as the priestess did. Secrets Helios seemed to be unwilling to share, much preferring to let Rea discover them for herself. Discover and relearn. The feeling of two souls intertwined was strange.

Over the crest of a hill, and gold eyes lingered on the form of another in the flowers, bewilderment lacing her expression. Chronos' presence made her pause before approaching further, and Helios' lower, softer voice carried over the span of few feet which separated them, curious but unconcerned.

"How did you get here?"

She did not yet recognize Chronos, the cousin of his beloved. Although Helios had been gone much longer than she had, it was well known that Chronos and her Zodiacs held the line much farther away than Elysium's boarders. She would not know that Chronos and hers had died, nor that they had been reborn.

The flash was instantaneous -- as soon as gold met pink, the realization was there. The form was slightly different, but she was the same Princess Chronos whom the Zodiac guard fought for so valiantly at the edges of space. The same Princess Chronos who had died in the fire, along with the rest of her guard, her handmaidens ('Handmaidens...?') scattered with the loss of their princess.

The same princess whose prince sacrificed himself to the Cauldron. In exchange for their lives.

"Princess Chronos..." she replied, sounding mildly surprised. When she had invited Chronos to Elysium, she had not been expecting the form she saw now, different and yet the same as she had been before. Different and yet the same... something she herself understood so well. One arm folded just under the teal silk tie just beneath her chest, and Helios bowed low, as he once had to all of the Moon court. "Welcome to Elysium. The temple and its priestess are always at your service."

Straightening, there was another slight pause as Helios (and as a result, Rea) appraised Chronos in turn. (So this is Princess Chronos.)

"You look well."

Well was probably not the way Chronos herself would have described it. But Helios had always been formally polite.

Helios gave the light-haired girl a small, private smile. "It has been a very long while," she agreed, polite. Not since he had last been invited to the moon court, some years ago. It did not happen often. And from what he had gathered, back then, she was not often at the moon court either. For them to have been there together would have been a rare occurrence indeed. She continued, "I have been... well. Likely similar to how you have been. Things are happening as they should, I'm sure."

She was, of course, referring to how the Cauldron had given them a chance at a new life.

"But I won't keep you," She started after a moment, that private smile touching her eyes a little, as if she kept some secret, "You're wondering why you're here."

At this, the priestess turned a little, glancing over her shoulder at the princess and beckoning her forward.

"There's someone who has requested your presence."

Looking up from the field of gently nodding flowers to the ancient and beautiful temple standing at the center of Elysium, Chronos was aware that there was somebody leaning out a little precariously between the pillars to stare up at the sky. The wind whipped in a light, senseless breeze on her skin, because she was suddenly denuded of all nerve and spine: it was a young man with a circlet around his forehead, cloak entangled around his arms, staring up at the clear sky that always seemed in a curious state of summer twilight -- deep in the throat of it were tiny white stars, like diamonds.

And then he turned, righted himself, to look at both the Priest of Elysium and her own self. And it was Eon, because she would have known Eon anywhere.

He ducked behind a pillar, came down the stairs -- his hair was bright in the sunshine and he was making his way towards her, unhurried. Eon had always thought -- Alistair McGill had always thought -- hurry should be done efficiently and tightly, otherwise you looked agitated. Didn't he look agitated enough? That was a question he'd aimed at her when he was generally completely supine and not hurrying at all, and it hadn't required an answer.

And then he stopped a few feet in front of her, and Helios (the very soul of tact) started walking away -- usually Eon would have stopped him (her?) and thanked her (him?) as well, but he was busy squinting against the wind and looking at Chronos.

Then he said: "You wouldn't believe what people will do for you if you ask nicely."

He wrapped his arms around her: they were wordless. There was no speech. There was not a lot to say. There was no way of communicating what she had to communicate, and all he did was hold her as though he were trying to tether her down. Eon had never used to hold her that way. Ally held her gingerly, as though afraid of the police and God when he held her too tight. There had always been that tension between them: he'd quit saying you're like a little sister to me, Ser because that had always made things worse. He'd held her as though she were a fragile confectionery that might be blown away at any time. Now he just held her.



"Like I said," said Prince Eon, "politeness is amazing. I thought I'd have to be more convincing than just saying, I'd just like to humbly request an, err, princely favour. Thanks." His hand was in her hair. His voice was even, gentle. "Sera -- it's all right. It's all right. It's fine, you're fine."

You're fine. We're fine.

He'd said it a lot, though as she'd gotten older she'd suspected it was not always the case.

"You're fine." She wasn't though. It was Ally using his nurse voice, reserved for crying children and Zodiacs who didn't like rubbing alcohol. Let me just clean this out for you.

He was holding her at arm's length now even if she resisted leaving him, looking her over, a shadow passing over his face. "Don't say that," he said, but it sounded a bit weak, a bit unconvincing. But then he said: "Ser. I was never the one who handled the Zodiacs. I just -- sat behind you, uh. Making sure you all had vitamin C and alibis. Giving moral support."

She'd opened her mouth. He said: "No. It's true. I taught you how to look to me for, for helping you, but I couldn't teach you anything else. God knows that. Don't tell yourself you can't do it. Remember? For the want of the nail, the horse was lost."

Hero had used to say that all the time -- she'd once said, aggrieved, but why, why can't the horse just go on with a nail? Things can go on broken, can't they? Why does a thing always have to be whole, Alistair? And he'd said: cracks grow, Serenade.

Eon said: "You always thought I was perfecter than I was."

He did not say, I love you, which she was grateful for: if he'd said it, he would have said it lightly as he'd always said it, putting in plain view their secret that was really nobody's secret and trying to tame it. Sometimes when they'd parted she'd said, "Love you," and he'd said, "Love you too," and once she knew that a lady watching had told him that it was really sweet that older brothers could be so emotionally open with their little sisters. And he had gone home and said "Aaargh," at his dorm room in Sovereign Heights, "aargh," to his mirror and "aargh" to his ceiling.

But what he did do was take her by the hand and lead her back into the field of flowers. They were wildflowers of many types of bloom, and he pressed one thumb down at the tiny velvety petal of a pale lavender fuschia of a type completely alien to Earth.

A big silver bumblebee came and landed on a flower, then, perplexed, landed on Eon's finger: he raised it up and passed it on to her, the bee crawling over into her palm. It sat there a moment, then slowly buzzed its way off.

"Here's the thing," he said. "You're not alone any more. When it was just us in Destiny City, that was different. Now everyone else is being reborn. Hero hasn't been letting you out, has she." She opened her mouth, as though to say you've been watching? but he said: "I know Hero. Intergrate, Ser. If you only keep our own goal in mind, you're going to lose. Fight like you're a senshi, not a Princess. Aries likes the old ways, but I don't think she realises what's at stake here."

For the want of a shoe, the horse was lost. But there had always been tension between Aries and Eon. Not the sexy kind, the sit back and shut up kind, as Eon had overly pleasantly said well I don't know if you had considered this but --