Cuan Oilean sat at the edge of a well kept lawn and watched the little gray house before her with curiosity. The door was dark stained wood and the trim was a darker grey than the main house. Dormant bushes and shrubbery were planted thickly around the house and probably helped to make it less gloomy when they were in bloom. The windows showed her nothing beyond the deeply blue curtain linings.

It certainly fit her idea of what a very old person’s house would be like.

The kitten hesitated for another moment before pacing up to the front door and rearing up against it, meowing loudly. She hadn’t told the old woman that she was a cat and she couldn’t risk drawing undo attention here. Therefore, acting like a needy feline was the best option available. And it seemed to work since she could hear grumbling on the other side of the door as a lock was pulled back and the door opened. Before the woman could even say ‘Shoo!’, Cuan darted inside and leapt up onto the back of a leather armchair. Sitting daintily and cleaning a forepaw, she called out, “Well, don’t stand there looking flabbergasted. We need to talk.”

She watched as the old woman glanced sharply at her before wearily closing the door and bolting it. Then, the old one circled the area, twitching a curtain here and there to be sure no one could see inside. Only when she was satisfied did she come closer and stare imperiously down at Cuan from over a beaky nose.

“So. You are the one who called me to disturb her ghost, eh? Very well. Tea? Milk?”

Taken aback for a second, Cuan paused in her grooming to tilt her head and consider. She wasn’t often offered refreshment.

“Tea with milk, if it isn’t too much trouble, thank you,” she said, voice carefully courteous. “I am sorry to disturb you, but I need your help.”

She waited until the old woman finished her puttering and placed a saucer of tea on the floor for her. By the smell, she could tell it was Earl Grey and she nodded in approval. Lapping at the drink, she help her silence until the elder Ivanovitch settled in the chair and looked resigned.

“So. Fourteen years she is gone and none of you can spare me a thought until now? What is so important that the little peace I have scraped together must be broken?”

Wincing at the words, Cuan wondered at the first Saiph’s peers. Had none of them actually bothered to check on a grieving old lady? Making a mental note to do and be better, Cuan cleaned her whiskers and considered her words carefully.

“I wish I had words of comfort for you, Ms. Ivanovitch,” she said slowly. “And I wish I didn’t need to bring you deeper into this than you already were. When I called you, I was telling you the truth. It is important for me to learn about Gabrielle. About Sailor Saiph. Anything you can tell me is helpful.”

“Why?” the raspy voice demanded. Cuan thought that the old woman was holding back tears. “Tell me why. I must say, you look nothing like the cats she described.”

Cuan wondered which cats those might be, then dismissed it as unimportant. This poor woman wanted to know why a mauvian was reaching out this late in the game. She deserved an honest answer.

“Because I am not one of those cats. My name is Cuan Oilean and I am begging you for this information so that I can help a young girl that is struggling. Please tell me, did your Saiph ever tell you about the Cauldron?”

“The Cauldron? No, I cannot say she did.”

Well. This just got harder. Sighing softly, Cuan left her saucer of tea and jumped into the old woman’s lap. Curling up and offering a soft purr, she did her best to offer some shred of comfort.

“The Cauldron,” she began, “is where souls go to be reborn. Every senshi today is a reborn soul. Typically, this takes a very long time. The girl I mentioned seems to be the exception to that rule. All senshi can remember things from their past lives, you see. And this girl is remembering more… recent events. Tell me,” she said, switching tacts briefly, “do you know the names Iya or Maijuku?”

Judging by how the old woman went pale, she knew something. Cuan sat, patiently waiting and kneading against the woman’s leg.

“Gabrielle mentioned those names. I have puzzled over them often but she was adamant that they not be forgotten. So I have done my best to remember for her sake. Iya was the alien child she could not save. The Maijuku was an alien, sentient tree. Maijuku sacrificed itself and its children to save Gabrielle and some others. Iya was a child of the Tree. Forgive me, it sounds too strange, but this is what I was told…”

For a moment, the woman was silent before apparently connecting some things together.

“Wait. This child of yours. The one who is remembering. She remembered these names? She remembered Gabrielle? She knew my Gabrielle?”

Cuan’s heart hurt at this. She had never wanted to give this woman hope only to tear it away.

“Not… not exactly. I think she used to be Gabrielle. Or rather, Sailor Saiph. Please understand, she isn’t Gabrielle. She is her own person, but…”
“But the child is a reincarnation,” the woman said softly, slowly. “So she has some of my Gabrielle’s experiences in her memories. I see. That is how you found me? She remembered me?”

“She said that you loved Gabrielle fiercely and Gabrielle trusted you completely,” Cuan said readily. “Therefore, I have chosen to trust you even though you’re not part of this war. I want to help my senshi. She’s afraid and a great deal of that fear, from what I can tell, is centered around the little memory she recalled of this Iya. Her words, when describing it to me were, ‘I feel so sad, but there’s a dread in there too, but I don’t know why. There is something horrible about Iya.’”

Suddenly, the old woman’s hand was on Cuan’s back, carefully stroking the wiry fur.

“I see. Poor child. And you sought me out for help because she saw a memory of me. Very well. Tell me what is needed.”

Blinking in shock, Cuan stared up at the lined face and tired eyes.

“My Gabrielle is gone and I am not so selfish to think I can insert myself into this child’s life just because she might be a reincarnation of my dear girl. I am also old and very tired. I have a fairly good idea of why my Gabrielle is gone and if giving you information to help your senshi will in a roundabout way help me to avenge my girl, is it not worth it? Ivanovitchs know a thing or two about loss and love, little cat. So. How may I help?”

The kitten couldn’t help the soft, pleading cry that tore from her throat. Shoving her head into the cupped hand above her, she did her best to show her admiration for and thankfulness to this remarkably tough old woman. If nothing else, she would give as much comfort to this human as possible before having to take from her.

“Anything you can tell me about her, if you have pictures of her to share, anything. If I can see who she was, I can help my senshi navigate any memories she sees and help her remain herself.”

Nodding, the woman scooped her up and carried her as they went into a different area of the house. Opening a door and flipping on the light, she set Cuan down on a neatly made bed.

“I couldn’t bring myself to change it. You may have free reign to look around. I will answer any questions I can. I even have old, saved voicemails if you would like to hear her voice. I must be truthful, I am hungry to talk about her with another soul. I miss her terribly.”

Standing on the bed and looking around, Cuan saw pictures of a girl with golden eyes and lime hair. She was smiling in all of them.

“Tell me everything you can. And if I can have copies of the pictures and voicemails, I will forever be grateful to you, Natasha Ivanovitch. I cannot begin to describe how helpful this is.”

Word Count = 1431