The flat on the 965th floor is empty and eerie, to a point, for Annabel. She finds this odd, for she had always felt at home here, despite whether her father was home or not. Certainly, his prescence made the flat more of a 'home' to her, but even his absence is filled with his work, his findings, and various other momentos of him to keep her from truly missing him.

Browsing through the study in her father's quarters, for he always encouraged her to read books rather than injest the small, cubic disks that destroyed so many people on World, Annabel comes across a thick volume bound in new, soft leather. Perplexed, for leather is unavailable on World, she almost passes it up for a different book. Her eye is caught, however, by its vaguely amusing title. "The Chronicles of Dendrinla?" she asks, chuckling a bit. "Father never had much of a taste for literature, but..."

Annabel takes the book from the shelf, and she cradles it gently in her arms. She walks out of her father's utilitarian study and into the even less cozy living room. Placing the book on the white couch there, Annabel drags the table and a chair over to the window. High above the smog line, the flat gets excellent natural light from the large, blue sun, Sonnig. Content with this lighting, Annabel turns off the artificial lights in the room, dimming it considerably. She then takes the book and sets it gently on the table.

She opens the book, being careful of its ancient, parchment pages. Further confusion spawns from this point. The binding is new, but the pages are definitely old. Finding this too strange for contemplation, she pushes these thoughts from her mind.

She is absolutely amused to find this copy written in a handwriting extremely similar to her own. For want of background noise, she decides to read aloud.

"The Chronicles of Dendrinla. May you find hope. May you find peace. May you find Dendrinla." She chuckles a bit at the well-wishing. She had thought that she was the only person who did things like this. Turning the page, she comes to the index. She scrolls down the list to pick which one she wishes to read, and is a bit more perplexed to see the name "Annabel" on the list. The other names are all so foreign. Why would an old-Earth name like hers be used? Finding this too amusing to pass up, Annabel turns to the designated page.

"The tale of Annabel begins long before she can even guess. It begins with Tren, Sandrylene, and Clarinet. The Majestic is still in port at the Creature Refuge, and there is a festival in the Bishen Realm." As she says these words, they become almost tangible. Though she has never seen nor heard of these people and places, she visualizes them almost instantaneously. Sandrylene is energetic, dark-haired, green-eyed. Tren is gentle, lavender-skinned, blonde, impossibly metallic gray-eyed, and more like a fish than anything. Clarinet is an intellegent, snake-like dragon, greenish-blue, colored purple on her undersides and the spikes that protrude from her back. They live on a boat, the Majestic. It has one deck for rowers, and various large sails. It is built more for random adventure than for speed, really.

"However, near the end of the Spring Festival in the Bishen Realm, Tren disappears. He leaves a note saying, 'I was called, and I went. I will return.' No other trace of him can be found. Not even Clarinet, with her Vision Gem that allows her to see the future, can find him. However, she also can not focus all of her energies on his search. She is heavy with her first clutch by her mate, Pierre."

'Pierre' conjurs forth a gentle, red, four-legged dragon who lives in the desert. How a desert-dweller and a sea-dweller could love is very difficult for Annabel to understand. They are too different, are they not? Oddly enough, the answer 'No' floats into her mind. Love will find away, she knows. How stupid she is to have thought otherwise!

"Be reasonable, 'Nabel," she chides herself. "It's just a story. Let it go." Nodding, she continues to read the story aloud.

"Almost immediately after the Spring Festival ends, Clarinet lays her first clutch. She had done so by collecting various leafy plants from the seabeds beyond the Creature Refuge's Obsidian Sea and disappearing for a few days. She was careful not to speak with Sandrylene until all of the eggs were lain. Then, she told her bondmate where to find her.

"Sandrylene receives permission from Indyana and the Kailan to retrieve the eggs. Setting out, alone, with the Majestic, however, is difficult. Thankfully, Clarinet chose a close enough spot to lay her eggs.

"The eggs are in a soft nest of seaweeds and grasses from the island on which they had been lain. Clarinet is guarding them from any sort of intruders, and startles when Sandrylene arrives to help her with them. Then, however, they move the eggs to onboard the Majestic.

"*It is very good of you to come for me,* Clarinet admits.

"'I did what you asked,' Sandrylene replies, hugging her bondmate. 'I'm very proud of you!'

"Blushing Clarinet keeps a close eye on her eggs. *After the homes are chosen, we must find Tren. I fear something bad has happened to him.*

"'Tren is fairly self-sufficient. If he needs help, he'll ask us for it.'

"*I do hope you're right, Sandrylene."

Annabel pauses and turns the page. "Good lord these people talk an awful lot about really inconsequential things!" she remarks, seeing more dialogue. Skimming it and muttering some of the words to herself, she notices a note in the margin. "For a more in-depth account, read the tale of Tren and Delinet," she reads. She rolls her eyes and skips the vast majority of the rest of the dialogue.

Picking up the words at the next bit of action, Annabel continues to read aloud. "When the Majestic finally returned to port, Pierre, Clarinet's red terran mate, rushes out with Indyana and the Kailan to meet them. Beaming with pride, Clarinet speaks privately with Pierre while Sandry helps Indy and the Kailan with the eggs.

"'You know, you are entitled to keep one egg for yourselves,' Indyana tells them.

"*I've already chosen the one I want to keep,* Clarinet admits, looking up from her conversation with Pierre.

"'Oh?' Sandry asks, interested.

"*Yes,* Clarinet confirms. *I want to keep my first-born son.* She indicates a yellow-spotted green egg sitting slightly apart from the rest of the clutch. She smiles and looks at Sandry and the others expectantly.

"*I think that's a wonderful idea!* Pierre admits, beaming with paternal pride. He nuzzles Clarinet and bounds up and down the length of the ship with excitement. Suddenly, he pauses, and he turns to face Clarinet. *But who'll you give it to? With Tren missing - * He blinks as Clarinet laughs. He regards her speculatively for a moment. *You had a vision, didn't you?*

"Clarinet laughs a little harder. Then she stops, smiles, and nods. *Yes. I did. He's coming with us to find Tren, and along the way, he will find his way to the person for whom he is fated.*

"*And that would be... who, exactly?*

"*Her name is Annabel. She'll make a good match for him, I think.* Again, Clarinet nods.

"'It seems like you have everything all planned out. I suppose you can set sail as soon as the adoption commences. No sense in giving you guys a head start or anything,' Indy remarks, grinning broadly in the afternoon sun.

"'Yes. Thank you very much, Indyana, Pierre, Mr. Kailan,' Sandry says, nodding to each in turn. The Kailan simply shakes his head, for Sandrylene knows his real name, and she may as well use it, but she finds it more respectful not to do so.

"Indyana, Pierre, and the Kailan each leave the Majestic and leave Sandrylene and Clarinet alone to - "

"Do you always read out loud?" asks a familiar voice.

Annabel jerks her head up and slams the book closed. "Mel!" she hisses. "Don't sneak up on me like that! And who let you into my house?" she demands.

Carmelotto is a handsome man, well-toned, brown-eyed, and kind. He should have black hair, but all inhabitants of World are bald by decree of the Chair, World's government. On top of each citizen's head is imprinted a barcode. This barcode is unique to each person, and when combined with his genetic make-up and retinal scans, allow him or her access to the Transport Cylinders and other conveniances of the post-Earth colony.

"Sorry to sneak up on you," Carmelotto admits. "You simply seemed so enthralled in your book, I - "

"You don't really have to apologize, Mel," Annabel admits, rising and smiling. "You can call anytime. I'm almost always home, and when I'm not, I lock the TC."

Carmelotto nods. "I was wondering..." He pauses and glances around. "Is your father in?"

Annabel smirks. "No. Why? What do you need to know?"

"Your fourth blood match is coming up soon, and you are technically a minor."

"I finished my schooling as per the Chair's decree. It's not my fault I graduated four years before the average child." She almost pouts, deems that too childish, and instead, sighs.

"You would have finished far earlier, too, had you taken the disks."

Annabel is on her feet in the blink of an eye. "What are you saying?" she furiously demands, her palms slamming onto the tabletop. "Are you saying I should have taken the disks?" She breathes deeply, trying to stay in control.

"Relax. I was just saying you would have been out of work longer had you taken the disks. Two years is still pretty long. I'm glad you'd agreed to be a Fighter." Carmelotto sighs and motions for Annabel to sit down. "Please. Sit down. You know you scare me when you get upset like this."

Nodding and forcing herself to calm down, Annabel lowers herself back into her seat. Trying to stay calm, but feeling her heart race, Annabel clears her throat. "Can I interest you in anything? Tea? Coffee? Something more potent?" she offers. Anything to make him stay a little longer.

Carmelotto shakes his head. Annabel glances away, secretly wishing that he would say "Only you, Nabel," but he does not. Instead, he simply smiles. "Do tell me when your father returns, won't you, Nabel?"

"You only ever call to see him," Annabel sighs as Carmelotto rises.

"There, there, now, Nabel," Carmelotto says, lifting her chin with his right hand. "Do buck up. I come to see you, too, but you know I may as well kill two birds with one stone."

"Birds," Annabel scoffs, glaring out the window. No bird has lived on World since at least two hundred years after the colony was officialized and industrialization became its most important source of revenue. "You wouldn't know a bird from a fish." Fish also have long-since vanished from World's surface.

"And you would?" Carmelotto asks, taking his hand back. He kneels by Annabel's chair and smiles at her, rubbing her head. "You need to shave."

Annabel sighs. While most World citizens used some sort of chemical to permanantly kill their hair, Annabel's father never allowed her to do so. Instead, he taught her how to shave her hair off, for he claimed he always loved the way her coppery hair glistened in the sunlight. Not like he is ever home to see it anymore.

"Smile, Nabel. We have our match in a week. I'm sure he'll be home to see it."

Annabel forces a smile. "Always positive thinking, Mel. What do you have in store for me this coming week?"

"Review, improvisation, and a few other things that pop into my head as the days progress."

Annabel nods and rises to her feet. "I'll tell Father you came," she admits, presenting her left hand to him. Mel brushes the back of his right hand against the back of her left.

"Thank you, Nabel. Until our next practice, then, I suppose. Enjoy your book." He smiles and waves as he makes his way to the glowing cylinder of green light in the center of the room. He announces that he is going to his flat, and the cylinder turns blue. A computerized voice confirms his destination, and Carmelotto is gone.

Sighing, Annabel looks at the book. She is no longer in the mood to read. Carmelotto's visit just killed any desire to continue to exercise her imagination. Instead, she takes to staring at the smog-line, wondering why Carmelotto refuses to have anything to do with her. He is only four years her senior. That is nothing much, especially when age-ceasing drugs are on the market.

However, as Fighters, Annabel and Carmelotto are forbidden to take any sort of drugs until they are retired, and even then it is discouraged. The days of their primes are numbered, and they must make the most of them. Then, they may pass to some other, happier existance.

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