When I walked into my audience chamber that particular morning, I was startled to notice that somebody was sitting, albeit slumped, in my throne. The male figure's head was bowed, obscuring his features, but I knew who it was even without recognising the sapphire-coloured hair.

Only one person would do such a thing -- I guess. I had never seen my brother do anything like that, actually. He had never before shown any interest in what it was that I did, nor had he ever shown any genuine liking for the world of politics I found so vastly amusing. Certainly, I had never suspected that Saffir would ever want the throne of Nemesis.

I remember thinking how odd it was that Saffir did not hear me approach; he had not even noticed me teleporting into the room. He seemed oblivious to everything until I put a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped, then turned his eyes up languidly to met mine. I was surprised by the weariness of those eyes. The first thing I noticed was that he looked so... old.

"Is there something wrong, Saffir-kun?" I asked softly, as if by raising my voice, I would hurt his ears. Indeed, he winced at the sound of my voice. I still wonder why I knew that he would. "Saffir?" I persisted when he did not answer. "Why are you in my throne?"

Saffir ignored the question -- or rather, he danced away from it. "It's strange, isn't it?" he questioned me in a hushed tone, his dusky eyes seeking my violet. He then locked his gaze on mine, staring at me directly.

"What's strange?" I asked hesitantly, still standing beside him. I wondered what game my brother thought he was playing at. It was peculiar, too; my younger brother was usually the last person in the world to waste time on silly games and the like. He was too much of a practical creature to do so.

Saffir looked away from me then, he skipped his eyes past my form and stared at the hologram that took place of precedence in my audience chamber. Looking at my brother, I noticed with growing unease the sick fascination he seemed to take in that projection. The pale light of the sleeping Empress coloured his face bloodless, showing up his fatigue, his worry, his apprehension.

"Something is wrong." Yeah, good observation, how'd you ever figure that one out, huh Demando? Ignoring my sarcastic and cynical inner voice, I tried to turn my complete attention to the man sitting slumped in my throne. Yet, throughout our entire conversation, my eyes kept drifting to the hologram that Saffir had invoked, and I think he knew it, too. I do believe that it served to compound a point he was trying to prove to himself.

Finally, I gave in to what should have been considered mild treason -- I knelt beside my brother, partially leaning on the verdant arm of my throne. And I mean treason on Saffir's part; the fact that he made me kneel on the floor before him by taking my seat in the throne should have irritated me.

It didn't.

Saffir had turned away from me, his face shielded from my own as he stared in the opposite direction. He was sitting low down in the chair, his top half hunched over his lower body, hands held tightly in his lap. Even though I could not see his facial features, I knew the expression that they would be holding. Saffir had looked pensive and melancholy -- and yes, paranoidly suspicious -- for far too long now for me to miss it.

I checked an internal sigh. Saffir always had been an inquisitive child, yet now, he was a paranoid, troubled young man. Yet, he was still my brother.

Saffir finally replied, his voice a half-whisper. "Something is always wrong, Demando."

The use of my name made me stiffen. Saffir never called me merely Demando, never! He had always put a prince, a sama, an oniisan with my name, or simply called me his older brother. I had never heard Saffir call me Demando in my entire life.

"Can't you feel it?" he continued on, wincing as my gaze once more strayed to the hologrammatic projection before us. "There is something in the air here."

I chuckled without mirth. "Saffir, this is Nemesis. We're lucky to be able to breathe on this godforsaken moon. Of course there must be something in the air."

Saffir shook his head, like I was missing his point, which I rather suspect I was. However, he changed tack again, obviously not willing to press the subject. "Where is the Wiseman?"

I shrugged, wondering why Saffir cared. He had already told me, in an aside manner, that he did not trust nor even like the Wiseman. On second thoughts, it was obvious that Saffir didnât care about the man's welfare, more he was concerned that the Wiseman was plotting against me or something.

I sighed. Some days I really despised Saffir's paranoid streak.

Saffir looked at me then, and I saw the pain flicker in his eyes. What kind of pain, I couldn't define then, and I can't define now. Whatever it was, it wrapped cold fingers around my own heart and squeezed it tight. "Demando, are you afraid to die?"

My heart almost stopped beating. "N-nani?"

He smiled slightly, a sad melancholy little smile. "I am afraid." He looked away from me to his lap, and I noticed the way his hands were cupped about something.

I reached out to him then, placing a hand on his shoulder as I moved closer to my little brother. "Saffir-kun, are you feeling all right? You don't look at all well."

Saffir laughed then, a short, cynical sound. "Demando, I haven't been well in a long, long time."

My brother -- my sweet, trusting, lovingly over-protective little brother -- was severely beginning to frighten me at this point. Which is why I moved backwards slightly, causing Saffir's head to snap up. He sighed. "Gomen, oniisan. I... I don't know whatâs wrong with me... "

I stood then, extending him a hand. He took it, but I did not pull him up immediately. His other hand was still cupped about the unseen object, his eyes locked on the hologram. "Oniisan, do you remember the promise you made me?"

I pulled Saffir to his feet, forcing him to look away from the image of Neo-Queen Serenity. "I've made you many promises -- which one do you mean?"

Saffir then extended his other hand to me, almost shyly. Opening his hand, I saw then what was lying on his palm. The thing he had been holding almost dear to his heart. "Take it," he urged, his eyes suddenly bright with a strange hope. "Don't you remember?"

"How could I forget?" I murmured quietly in reply, delicately taking the flower from my little brother. Stroking the pale violet petals, I was entranced by memories for several minutes, before I could finally turn my eyes back to my little brother. "I promised you the Earth -- where the flowers would always bloom in prominence, where you could have a field of these flowers, and more ... colour, fragrance... " I closed my eyes for a second. Saffir had not been the only one who wanted that dream, that heaven. "And I will give it to you, Saffir-kun."

He smiled again, the first genuine smile I had seen on my brotherâs face in a long, long time. I was distressed to see how quickly it faded into oblivion, however.

I knew then, in that silence, that now was the time to finally forward again the question that had been in my mind ever since I had walked in here. "Saffir, what were you doing in my throne?"

"I... I was waiting for you, and I was tired..." His voice trailed off lamely, and I knew he was lying. Saffir never had been a good liar, at least, he had never been a good liar in my presence. It was like how he never became malicious or angry in my sight, but if Esmeraude was to be believed, Saffir did have quite a temper when there was something sufficient enough to set him off.

Besides, I knew that Saffir adhered to court protocol almost religiously -- and I was practically a god in his eyes. Yes, it is conceited to say so, but that was, and always had been, the nature of our relationship. I was the leader, he the disciple. We had never resented our positions. Or at least, I never had.

"You're not being entirely honest with me, are you?" I prodded gently. I knew that Saffir was easily hurt, and that if I antagonised him, he would clam right up. Either that, or I would finally see my brother go ballistic.

He nodded. "Demando-oniisan, you want to know why I was seated there?"

"Trying to take over my status, ne?" I asked lightly, ruffling his blue hair. I couldnât help myself. "Getting a taste of being the sovereign of Nemesis?"

He was completely serious in his reply, which startled me. "In a manner of speaking, yes."

"What does that mean?" I asked, beginning to feel more than mildly confused.

Saffir sighed. "I was seated there to understand what it was like to be the present sovereign of Nemesis. I was trying to understand you."

With that, Saffir almost ran down the stairs of the dais.

"Matte."

Obedient to a fold, he turned back to face me, his head bowed. "Yes, Your Most Serene Highness?"

I winced at the title -- yet another sign of the ever-growing distance between us. I had to pause before I could speak. "Why would you try to understand me like that, Saffir? Are we not blood?" I had to pull in another breath before continuing. "We grew up together. I would have thought that would give us a great deal of understanding of one another."

Saffir smiled, a tiny, almost tearful smile. "I understood you then, oniisan. Today, I was trying to understand what you have become."

And leaving me with that unsettling comment, Saffir lowered his hand, and bowed lowly and reverently to me, before teleporting in his own understated way. He simply vanished; Saffir never had been one for histrionics.

Left standing alone before my throne with the hologram, I cast my violet eyes downward to stare at my hand, upon which sat the blossom. I ran a finger over the soft petals, and sighed. I then turned and moved back to my throne, and there I sat.

And, like my perceptive younger brother, I tried to understand what I had become. It disturbed me to realise that perhaps Saffir and I had drawn completely different conclusions.

And that's the prologue -- it's essentially a memory, because the first part of the story doesn't begin until some years after Saffir died in the twentieth century...

To Chapter One

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