DAY ONE In so many ways, the world never changes. Even though, as far as everyone knows, 15 years ago everything changed. Technology hasn't disappeared, but now in addition to CD players and cars, it's not entirely uncommon to see magic shopes, and mages, and mysterious colors and sounds richocheting around the insides of people's houses... nowhere is this effect, this blend of ancient architecture, high tech glass skyscrapers, statues, bricks, horse drawn carriages, fog and shadow, river and tower.. than in the modern-day London. And along one of the cobbled streets not too far from the major metropolis is a school.. a very proper red-brick-and-ivy sort of place, dating back to the 1700's... one of those places with headmasters and headmistresses, and gates that close after certain hours, and a distinct distaste for the mingling of the sexes. Lady Anne's School For Girls, in fact. A prim and proper setting for the raising of demure young women of society. And of course, in every such setting.. there are the bad girls. The ones who don't play by the rules, who sneak in the magazines featuring the handsome young men.. the ones who keep secret herbs under their beds and cast charms on those who annoy them. Utena, however, is not one of those girls. She's never been one of those kinds of girls. She's not a troublemaker, not a bad girl in any sense.. she's just kind, and nice, and good-hearted, and generally the kind of person that disappears into the backgrounds of the world, not unremarkable, just not UNIQUE. Right now, she's walking along with the dark blue skirt of her uniform bouncing against her knees, books in hand. Hair a soft pink drawn back into a demure and immaculate braid hanging down almost to the middle of her back. She giggles a little, talking to her friends as they head home from a hard day of class.. Absolutely 100% perfectly normal. She walks with her two girlfriends, over the sidewalks, idly watching a horse carriage pass by with a wistful sort of look. The day's kind of cold, and she wishes she hadn't left her coat at home.. a low white mist filling some of the streets, crawling through the alleys like a strange eerie ghost... Indeed some things never change. The weather people say that the Revolution changed weather patterns around the world in that celestial advent, but the ancient city of London begins to revert back to its roots as the cold mist and classic fog begins to roll into the cobblestoned dark streets. The antiquated streetlamps light up dimly within the thick mists as you walk along.. a rather errie sensation all told as your girlfriend's chatter lowers a bit, the darker setting seems to filter through thoughts within their minds as one speaks up, "Hear about that terrorist bombing? It's hard to imagine that the IRA is going this far.. don't you think Parlament should DO something about them?" The other one speaks up with a pout, "Like what? Sides.. Why do you ALWAYS bring up such depressing stuff like that?" -.- The other girl sweatdrops, "I just think politics is interesting don't you?" ^.^; She nudges your shoulder, "Right Utena? You've never said I was depressing." ^.^ expecting you to back her up. "Uhm, sure..." Utena replies, deeply distracted, her large and innocent blue eyes flickering into the roiling and deepening mists. Something .. something buried deep, some almost primal instinct is affected by the surreal fog; she frowns vaguely. Clutches her books closer, feeling the white mist wrapping around and carressing her bare lower legs.. she shivers and moves a little faster, a little closer to her friends. She couldn't define the sensation, could never be able to explain it's stirring something inside her she can't speak or even recognize. Your girlfriends really don't mind.. as they continue to chitter away to one another about this and that in low tones. Mostly commenting on the weather.. but their words are drowned out.. as you can begin to hear the thumping of your heart in your ears.. resounding like a deep bass drum.. quickening..quickening.. as the shapes of the mists begin to reveal more and more of the streets.. what is this feeling? So close... more shapes in the mist... hrmm..whats that? Utena looks around herself anxiously, bird-skittish, her bright, wide eyes trying to penetrate the fog over the pulsing of her blood within her, a drum beat touching some lost, hidden skin within... pound, pound, the rhythm of the hunt, the instinct of a fighter.. she shakes her head, shivering, gasping softly. Shapes. She tries to see them. Then.. the mists seem to part a bit.. unraveling and unweaving their obscuring depths.. an alley corner.. six tall dark figures..chatting. Your girlfriends blink.. one whispers, "Hey..who're they?" The other intones, "Ooh.. wonder what they're talking a bout.." The former, "Something important it sounds like..." WIth the curiousity of kittens they begin to take a few steps in that direction..wondering what they're talking about as they hazard a small listen.. Utena is drawn along, the cub with the kittens, ears red, heart thumping painfully. She wants to hear too. It's probably nothing. Nothing.. just her imagination. Her teachers always yell at her for it.. daydreaming in class... Like whispers out of a dream..they speak to one another. Almost in riddles... hard to understand, "..goes well.." "..King Enma pleased... " "..Dominion swells.." ... One of your girlfriend blinks and whispers, "What are they talking about? Some kinda movie?" The other intones, "Yeah.. wonder what they're yappin about.. bloody curious I say.." Hrmm..as the darkness parts a bit more..you can see one tall man.. his back to you..and down along his shoulders and back.. locks of crimson hair.. your heart suddenly PULSES...as a strange image crosses over your mind..too fast too see.. but so familiar... Utena's books slide out of her hands and strike the cobblestones with heavy but muffled thumps, slow motion, pages falling open, the sound seeming to dissipate, sucked into the fog. More feelings she can't place or name... something deep and molten awakening. She's.. never seen him before. She doesn't see boys. Not at school, just on the street... she doesn't associate with them at all. So how does she.. KNOW him..? It hurts.. Your books strike the ground.. to you the sound is muffled.. yet to the men..and the mists itself.. they seem to part.. swirling open as all six turn to you. You and your friends.. your girlfriends suddenly take reflexive steps back.. the middle one.. be side the tall redhead..who's eyes seem piercing.. slender..staring deeply within you.. The middle one who's features are wrapped in the dark mists still.. he points at you three and merely speaks, "Silence them." And at that.. four of them begin to rush forward.. tall men wearing suits.. Utena is trapped by the redhead's eyes... she can't move. Breathing's hard too. She doesn't understand something's COMING at her... doesn't... she draws back too.. hands shooting to her mouth only when they get so close she can just about smell their breath... head whirling... "..n... no.." She bolts suddenly and runs, but she can feel the redhead's narrow eyes on her back as she stumbles over the stones, leaving books, leaving all of it. No... Your girlfriends immediately SCREAM as the taller men rush towards them... they turn to FLEE as fast as they can! And your not too far behind them..but they gain ground very fast.. their longer strides begins to show even as your friends frantic racing forces them to go almost as fast.. you feel a shot of adrenaline race through your system.. a primitive fear.. being hunted..chased.. Who ARE these people? Good god.. is this some kind of drug bust? Criminal organization? God knows what you've stumbled onto.. but that is hardly what is going through your mind.. as you can feel blood racing within your body.. the mists revealing obstacles at practically the last second as you slice through the fog.. Utena dives, weaves, twists her body at the last moment, the adrenaline transforming her... giving her an eerie, strange clarity of thought... she's going to die. She is assured of it... but she doesn't want to do that... and the primal instincts in her blood want to live, too. Self-preservation rises up.. and anger too, even as she gets swiftly LOST in the morass of fogged and twisting and confusing small dark side alleys... her eyes sweep quickly before her... she needs a weapon, a distraction, a diversion.. a way to DISAPPEAR.... In your quick turnings.. you realize you've completely lost track of your friends..as you think you can hear their cries in the distance.. the London streets are old.. especially in this traditional area of town.. almost a relic. These ancient streets are small and narrow. Like a labyrinth of brick and cobblestones.. and the mists obscuring it all.. you manage your way into an alley.. No sounds of footsteps following.. did you lose them? Then again..arn't you lost yourself?... your lungs hurt from all your breathing.. rasping the cold moist air..sweat streaming down your form.. Utena presses her back tightly into the wall, her fingers spread wide as if to increase her sensitivity, her touch, as if she could squeeze herself into a crack and vanish.. gasping with pain and terror.. who ARE they.... and when she hears the screams of her friends she has to fight not to cry out to them... the primal instincts speak. Survive. Survival of the fittest. She can't be killed here... she can't.. She creeps her way through the tiny alley, praying for shadows and darkness, and for the sounds to fade... As you creep along.. you look this way and that.. images of the alley shaking from your own nervous jerking.. causing phantoms to seemingly claw out at you in the blur.. in your flight ..everything looks threatening..dark and menacing.. as if the world is suddenly comprised of ghouls of the night seeking your blood... You creep out to the mouth of the alleyway..and as you do so.. your eyes fall upon a single figure. Standing their. His hands in his pockets of his white suit. His features a bit blurred by the fog..but you can see it.. his long crimson hair.. a white forelock.. a slender yet masculine face with a narrow dapir nose.. almost regal looking in a way.. his slender eyes..looking upon you piercingly once more...his expression.. one of interest ... giving you a scrutinizing look for a moment.. his eyes halfhood...as if he's trying to recall something... Utena JERKS back. He's one of them.. he'll TELL... she shrinks with a weak, frightened whimper toward the shadow of the alley, her eyes wide, shaking her head again and again, no, no, NO... pain in her heart, she feels as if she could faint from the shock, the stress.. but that strange part of her won't let her.. she can't, or she'll die... This figure.. looks upon you for a moment longer. You can hear two sets of footfalls.. running.. from down the street .. after a moment he speaks up. Looking at you but yelling to his fellows, "I saw her run this way. Follow me." And at that.. he gives you one last look.. then a small smile curls on the edges of his slender lips.. before turning and briskly walking down the street as well. Away from you.. the mists swallowing him back up.. the footfalls never enter your visual range..as they become y et dimmer and softer in the mists themselves... Utena blinks in bewilderment.. he.. didn't..? He led them away..? Why? Why? The knowing look in his eyes... WHO is he? What is GOING ON? Confused the girl staggers out of the alleyway and into the white, roiling void. "..." She looks around weakly, her legs threatening to give out underneath her... one hand pressed to her breast, her heart fit to burst. She stumbles in a random direction. What just happened? The events..all such a blur as you struggle to remember them over the burning adrenaline in your blood.. the deafening sound of your heart and your ragged breathing.. you feel sick in the pit of your stomach as you stumble.. your cold sweat only increases. What is this feeling? So..so familiar. This would be frightening ANYWAY..but somehow.. someway.. you felt.. well.. you don't know what you felt.. but it was beyond strange.. like..Deja vu... It's too much for the small, young girl, who only an hour before was only worrying about her grade, and getting home safely. She gives out a weak, soft sound, the illness of dizzying, drained adrenaline, the cold.. it claims her all at once and she crumples to the stones dimly, a whimper... then darkness..... Darkness.. you fall back into yourself as you don't feel your body strike the ground. Like weights tied onto you..falling into the abyss... sweet oblivion.. but then.. in the darkness.. a soft voice... "Utena...." ...like an angel.. "Utena..." Utena's brow furrows, the voice light and calling, soothing... she frowns... rising back up, surfacing in response to the voice... who's calling her... why...? All you feel is the darkness around you.. But oddly.. it is not fearsome.. but relaxing.. soothing.. like the darkness of the womb.. as the easing voice speaks out once again, "..Utena... The Prince is needed once again... the miracle powers need a champion... Utena... Utena.. be strong.. and be steadfast to your noble heart... Utena.." the whispery voice continues. What is she talking about? It's a woman's voice.. vaguely..familiar somehow... Utena tries to call out to the woman, to the distant, rich and mysterious voice, ".. who are you.. where am I? What's HAPPENING?" Basic, primal need questions, root of everything questions. "Who were those men? I don't understand what you're talking about...!" "..Soon.. my beautiful Utena.. my shining Prince.. soon you will know.. be prepared my child.. beware... soon you shall see the true world... be prepared... my noble Utena.." the voice sounds remorseful.. even more distant..fading.. Utena clings to the voice, but it slips out from her fingers... and darkness rushes in to replace it... leaving her with nothing but a void.. void of self, void of knowledge.. slumped helplessly against the cold ground, with the mist washing over her in waves, swallowing her up within a colorless grave lighter than air. She lies there insensate for a long time, hours at least...terrified to wake. In the last.. you hear the final words.. something to cling to, "My strong Utena... believe.. believe in yourself.. in the power of Miracles.. have faith... Utena.. Utena..." the soft voice finally recoils into the darkness. And after what seems like an eternity milling about in the void.. you feel.. a subtle difference.. no cobblestones grate into your shoulder.. instead..a soft warm matress..entombed within your snug sheets as if tucked in.. comfortable.. Utena becomes aware of the transformation of senses gradually.... her eyes tentatively crack open... As the blurriness of sleep parts and receeds... it's your room.. your back in your room. Was it a dream? You feel well rested.. as if you spent the whole night pleasently sleeping.. no aches or soreness from any exertion...yet... so real... unlike other dreams.. you can remember this one with fine clarity. All of it.. the mists.. the men.. that redhead... his eyes... the screams... the running... And...that voice.. that woman's voice... such an..odd dream...