The prophecy would be hers by day's end…or she'd know the reason why.

"I am fire…fire is light. I am fire…fire is sight. I am fire…"

The Aresian priestess bent over her blazing flames chanting the mantra over and over again as she attempted to make contact with furnace-like molten core of her planet. Smoky incense filled the temple its hot, spicy scent. Rippling, shimmering heat surrounded her, and she was dripping wet, covered all over with a thin film of sweat from her exertion. Her stainless robes clung moistly. But finally though, as the sun slipped over the edge of the horizon and night fell, she leaned back on an elbow with a sigh and mopped her brow, giving it up as a bad job. She'd been getting nowhere…slowly.

A seer needed focus and she just couldn't martial the necessary concentration, as her thoughts kept drifting away to him. Was he safe? Was he well? Perhaps, she thought hopefully, he was thinking of her even then, as he'd promised to do. He'd return, wouldn't he? Well why wouldn't he? Ares knew he'd been persistent enough in his pursuit from the very start. He wouldn't accept her no, even when it had literally slapped him in the face. He'd just regrouped and returned.

In spite of her exhaustion, the memory made her chuckle faintly as she recalled the scene.

"You'll favor me with a dance, milady Mars."

The presumptuous bastard!

This time it wasn't a request, but a fait accompli as the handsome blond general of Terra was already arrogantly tugging her out across the crowded ballroom floor even though she'd already said no to that dance before, turning him away after judging him the sort of libertine who obviously had a girl in every port…or on every planet.

She had made it quite clear that first time he'd asked that she had no intention of being his latest dalliance. She was a princess and a priestess, not a plaything to share his bed. She'd even refused to share so much as a minuet with him then. But suddenly faced with the prospect of either dancing or standing in the middle of the floor looking ridiculous, she danced, but she wasn't happy about it.

Smoky violet eyes glared up at him as they'd spun across the floor and out onto the terrace in a twirl of crimson skirts and a swirl of his cape. A faint waltz could be heard, the sound seeping through the open door into the night air, but they were quite alone.

"Are you drunk? How dare you, sir?" she demanded as they continued to pretend to dance. "I believe I'd already made my feelings toward you quite clear."

Just barely visible on his tanned cheekbone was the faint red handprint, evidence of his previous insistence in the face of denial, serving to underscore her point.

Wicked laughter lit his pale aquamarine eyes, turning them the color of warm Neptunian sea spray. "You did indeed, fair princess. However I've always found that luck follows the virtuous and the bold. I've always been exceptionally lucky," he said with a mocking chuckle just before he swooped her backward in a low dip that had her letting out a muffled shriek and clinging to his shoulders least she fall. He'd chuckled and then captured her lips with his own, kissing her until they went up in flames.

The man had taken full advantage of the circumstance he'd created, exploring her mouth with lingering thoroughness while she was trapped in his embrace. When he finally released her, they'd both been breathless…and she was livid.

"The only thing that I'm intoxicated on is the taste of you, little Firebird. You're like a mulled burgundy. Rich and spicy sweet and heady."

"Bold you must be, Lord Jadeite," she'd gasped angrily, tearing herself from his arms, "because for a certainty you are not virtuous!" She'd decorated his other cheek with another stinging slap before spinning on her heel and fleeing with an almost unseemly haste. His delighted laughter and the buzz of the court gossips had poured salt on her wounded pride. Still, she couldn't forget that kiss and the effect it had had on her. No man had ever before tapped the fire in her.

That night had been the first time he had called her his Firebird. It would not be the last.

He'd pursued her shamelessly, undeterred by her protests. Even when she'd threatened him with a taste of her planet's power, he had remained firm him his resolve to win her. He had also commented, while quite openly ogling her long legs, that whoever had designed her senshi fuku ensemble and heels had just earned his eternal regard and undying gratitude.

She hadn't been amused. Her screamed oaths and a burst of flash fire chased him out of her wing of the palace, though he returned the very next day sporting a rakish grin and with his golden hair just slightly shorter due to singeing.

And somewhere in between the incessant arguments and threats of bodily injury, something about the infuriating Terran changed. She could not have said at what point his loathsome arrogance became intriguing confidence, nor when his presence became something to be anticipated and savored rather than dreaded and endured. But somehow he touched the woman's heart that she had locked away and claimed it for his own. Yet just when things looked their brightest, the tidings of war had come, threatening to destroy everything and everyone they held dear.

He was securing his trunk when she finally arrived, having been ordered by no less than Serenity herself to go to him. She'd have sooner let her ravens gouge out her eyes.

"So this is it then? You're leaving for Terra."

"Within the hour," he'd said, his face uncharacteristically sober. "I feared I wouldn't have the chance to say goodbye, princess, you took so long in coming."

It was what she'd feared all along. "Don't bother," she snapped crossly. "We knew that you wouldn't…couldn't…" Her voice trailed off and she looked away, trying to figure out how to say what needed to be said and still salvage her pride. Whatever happened, she would NOT cry.

He smiled, brushing her soft, flushed cheek with his hand. "I'm glad you came. There are two Terran customs I would share with you before I go."

She'd been instantly furious, her face flushing as she'd opened her mouth to blast him. Why would he think she'd care one whit about silly cultural rituals at a moment like this? Just because she was a priestess? Fool! Dolt!

He, however, had stopped her outburst before it began, placing a finger over her lips and holding up his other hand for silence.

"First," he'd informed her. "We believe that the best way to not forget something is to tie a string around our finger to remind us. Second…" he paused a moment and fished an item out of his jacket pocket to dangle something red and braided before her eyes. "In the East we believe in a red thread of destiny that connects two souls so that no matter what may befall them, no matter what twists of fate come their way, this thread will ultimately bring those two souls and their hearts together." He paused, allowing the words to sink in. "This silken cord is a thousand red threads at least, and stronger than steel."

He caught up her hand and tied the soft, claret-colored cord in a bow around her ring finger, lifting her hand to press a soft kiss to the fabric ring.

He then flashed her that confident, faintly roguish smirk that had somehow come to intrigue rather than annoy her. "And when I return I'll replace that cord with a gold wedding band, my dear."

"Oh you will, will you?" she'd retorted crisply, though she couldn't keep the delighted smile off her face, nor remove the radiant amethyst sparkle from her eyes. "Funny. I don't recall you asking for my hand, Lord Jadeite."

"Now why would I do something foolish like that, princess? When have I ever?" he'd asked, tipping up her chin with one hand and cradling it in his broad palm. "That might just give you a chance to say no or some such other dodge, and that I won't give you. No, I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm simply telling you, that when I return we'll be wed and I'll accept no other outcome. So you'd best do your part"

He pressed an identical scarlet cord into her hand, spreading wide his fingers so that she could knot a similar bow around his finger. She did so blindly, never taking her gaze from his, and as it tightened, he winked at her. "A perfect fit."

"Wearing this, how could I forget you, my lovely Firebird? By your sacred flame, from the moment we met I knew I couldn't forget you if I tried. And you won't forget me either, Firebird." His gaze burned into hers like an intense blue flame as he vowed, "I'll return for you. I swear it!"

They shared just one final kiss for luck and for love and then he'd been gone. Now all she could do was wait and pray.

She'd been praying for six months. At first messages had been frequent and news had been good. The forces of the Terran King, Endymion the first, had been making real progress, or so it seemed. But slowly the flow of news had dwindled until it was a mere trickle, not nearly enough to allow anyone at the Moon Palace to know what was really going on below on Earth. Then contact had ceased altogether.

The waiting was nerve wracking and so Queen Serenity attempted to allow her people to put aside their cares while they could by throwing masque after masque in an attempt to amuse them. The Aresian princess, however, cared nothing for such diversions. The only place in which she found solace was in her temple, surrounded by her flames.

Well…that wasn't her only solace. A wistful smile curved her lips as she eyed the little crimson silk ring which sat on a table nearby where she always put it when she used the fire. There it was safe from any stray ember that might threaten it. It was the only time the token left her finger.

Sitting up, she reached out to begin banking the fire, as was her custom. Suddenly the doors to the temple blew open and a gust of icy cold air rushed in, causing the fine hairs on the back of the princess' neck to prickle with the chill. The sacred fire guttered and threatened to die.

And the feather light ring was caught in an updraft, dancing merrily through the air.

A cry burst from her throat as she reached for it. It seemed to just kiss her fingertips before fluttering out of reach. Then that malevolent wind blew it into the blue-white heart of the flame itself.

In an instant it was gone, nothing more than a memory and curling ash which pitted and fell away amid the embers. Even so, she lunged at the fire trying to save it. It couldn't be gone! But it was.

"No!" The denial was ripped from her lips as she leaned over the fire.

Without warning the flames exploded and so did the vision they brought.

Unprepared as she was, the horrific vision of red death washed over her in an unceasing torrent of blood. A hammer blow of pain exploded in her skull. Flames danced over her skin as they seared her nerve endings. And over it all pair of serpentine amber eyes watched maliciously until, mercifully, the icy blackness of oblivion took her.

"Arianna! Arianna! Wake up!" She could feel herself being shaken violently, but she could see nothing but inky, oppressive blackness, as if she was caught inside a chimney. How long had she been unconscious? A minute? An hour? A day? A week? There was no way to know.

"Cupid's crossbow! She's fainted! And look at those blisters, Artemis…she's burned herself too. Badly. Somebody call the healer and the Mercurian princess! Now go! Hurry!"

Dimly she heard a voice she knew to be that of the heir to the Venusian throne snapping out orders to servants and she could hear the Moon's own princess weeping hysterically over her. Slowly the darkness receded like a tide going out and she found herself gazing into compassionate azure lunar eyes that were so like his.

"Are you hurt? What happened to you Mars?! Please talk to us!"

"Jade…he…doesn't…" The words stuck and died in her parched throat for she'd inhaled far too much smoke. A medicinal goblet of cognac was brought and forced between her lips, the powerful liquid burning its way down her throat. She gagged and coughed, forcing the cup away, where it fell from helping hands to shatter on the stone floor. Before her eyes the brandy's golden color began to change until the pooled liquid was scarlet as blood, staining her robes.

The Aresian princess remembered the nightmarish vision a split second before her stomach revolted, leaving her vomiting sourly on the floor. A glance at the empty smoke blackened and ash smeared cauldron which should have held the sacred flame told her all she needed to know. She'd been given her sign. And over and over she heard the pounding refrain beating against her skull.

'He doesn't remember me…'