Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Nobody's Eden ❯ The Vision ( Chapter 2 )

Nobody's Eden Part 2

 

Relena was empty. After all that had happened she felt so empty inside. She could no longer work. She simply lay there in her bed staring into nothing, thinking nothing, and feeling nothing.

 

She wasn't to the stage of being distraught yet. That would come later. Right now she was trying to comprehend it, wait for it to kick in. She would never see Heero again….

 

 

Heero lay on his sofa looking aimlessly at the ceiling lamp. They were 3500 miles apart. `3500 miles too far' he thought viciously.

 

Unlike Relena, his sense of pain over their loss had already kicked him very hard. He hated the preventors. He hated the fact that they couldn't be together. A few months ago it wouldn't have been a problem.

 

Three months ago they were used to working under silent conditions around one another, only showing interest in what they have to say. Important stuff. World stuff.

 

But after a month alone together trying to survive together, they had become so intimately close. They had shared feelings towards life. They had developed stronger feelings for each other. They had blossomed from work companions into lovers over a month.

 

They had made love…

 

 

Relena felt wetness dampen her dry eyes from staring. It was starting to kick in. She let her thoughts run back to their last night together.

 

She saw and somehow felt the way he held her. The soft words he spoke into her ear. The way he kissed her head ever so gently as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

 

She let her tears fall down her cheeks. She held them back, and after a few seconds she could feel a horrible strain in her throat from trying to hold back so much.

 

Eventually she let a sob escape her lips, and curled into a ball under the blankets.

 

She cried all night, muffling her pain with her mascara-stained pillow.

 

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Pagan listened in at the door. She sounded like she was in agony yet there was nothing he could do. He could not father her the way he had done so many times before.

 

Each series of heart-wrenching sobs tore at him.

 

As he felt tears prickle his own eyes he thought to pay her one last request. He would make her better.

 

 

Relena woke suddenly, grasping firmly the hand that shook her frail shoulder.

 

“Miss Relena, I implore you to awaken now. You must be at the museum for the opening of it's new attraction.

 

Relena didn't move or say a word. She must have cried herself away last night, because she felt like a shell.

 

“Relena, please. I know how the loss of young master Yuy has affected you. But you mustn't weaken. You are too…important.”

 

Relena slid her legs off of the end of the bed and walked silently over to the dresser, not once looking at her dear family friend.

 

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was there in front of her. She was stunningly beautiful even in the morning. “But I don't belong to myself, do I Pagan.”

 

Pagan did not understand her question, but he did not raise his doubts. He knew she was talking to nobody.

 

“The car will come at 8:00, ma'am.”

 

He bowed slowly to her, keeping his gazed fixed on the girl's vacant eyes. Then he walked primly out of the door.

 

 

The museum was indeed the most beautiful piece of architecture she had ever laid eyes on.

 

It was made entirely of marble native to her country. The large, catherdral-like doorways were lined with gold with carved figurines of archangels and cherubim on the pillars. What amazed her most was the dome. Wilstt looking like an ordinary dome, it was pleated with a type of crystal found in the cliffs of Newport City, and the spire finished off in a glorious fountain of Aramine.

 

Aramine was something those of the social elite crave. It was a beautiful, majestic looking metal that looked like blue silver. Wealthy women wore it only on the most divine of occasions. Yet, here it was, a giant structure on top of Newport's largest and most expensive building.

 

For the first time in a week she felt a positive emotion, though scarce in the gloomy chasm left in her soul.

 

She was so transfixed on the structure that she hadn't noticed the curator of the museum come beside her.

 

“It is marvellous, isn't it ma'am? The architect is a friend of mine who studied with me at university. Are you much familiar with the works of Jaere Kamor?”

 

She shook her head and turned to face him. The man looked very kind, she thought. It would be improper of her to stay silent.

 

“Yes, I have read of his works in the library. His ancestors designed the royal court.”

 

The man realised, of course, who she was. He felt a strong desire to babble on about the things they found mutually interesting.

 

“Maybe we should take a gander at the new attraction. You may find it very interesting, your Highness.”

 

She smiled at him. He was the kind of man she had expected her father to be. Regal, wise and kind.

 

Inside there was a crowd of those she had seen frequently at balls and galas. The people whom she detested with every inch of her person at that moment. People like them were the ones that formed the unbreakable link between her and…

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have you undivided attention please. I would like to thank every one of you for coming here today to witness the find of the century unfurls itself. Ladies and gentlemen, I would also like to praise Akhmen for the presence of Princess Relena Peacecraft, who will later prove to be the other dividend of your attention. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the tablet or Oroch.”

 

Relena's eyes opened as wide as they could. The audience gasped in wondrous awe at the vision in front of them.

 

On an Aramine and marble tablet on a golden pedestal was a form of hieroglyph she, among very, very few, were familiar with.

 

There was a record printed on the tablet in the language of the old, Mantra.

 

In the very centre was a dark blue gem she was informed to be Carka, another rarity of the olden age.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a tablet of records from the Sankanese age of Faelbere. The hieroglyphics on the front, as you can clearly see, are unreadable except to those who are educated in the art of Mantra. This tablet informs us that it was written by a man named Oroch, who was the man of the old who first sailed across the ocean to find Russia. It was he who made the Sankanese people known to us. Yet, the tablet is unfinished, though the tact edges indicate there were no more parts attached to it. The hieroglyphs translate into an introduction to a tale. The tale of how Eden itself was lost for good. Ladies and gentlemen, if we can uncover the secrets of this tablet, we will know the exact location of the garden of Eden!”

 

Everybody, press, ladies and gentlemen clapped until her ears thought they would burst. She stared at the tablet.

 

Its beauty was hypnotic. She wanted to….'touch it'.

 

Relena pushed her way towards the front of the clapping crowd. They were now mute to her.

 

Her hand lifted on its own, an urge she felt more overwhelming than the want to live.

 

She could feel Heero…

 

Her hand came to rest upon the giant Carka stone in the centre of the tablet.

 

 

She lifted her hand to see them, to see what she had done. She saw air.

 

In front of her was herself, sitting on a throne in a most elegant gown. She wore gold around her arms and ankles and large golden hoops hung heavy in her ears.

 

Her servants beside her were no lesser dresses, nor the guards lining the pillared hall.

 

Her throne was a mere marble chair, not fashioned in any particular style or majesty.

She saw herself speak in what she recognised as Mantra. She was giving orders to…surrender.

 

At that point she heard a sudden rush of flashing cameras and fading claps as she held again her grasp on reality.

 

The curator was looking at her intently. His eyes held knowledge. He had seen what happened; yet he made no move to question her.

 

She turned towards the door, turning back to see his eyes following her out. She needed to sit down.

 

She had seen through the eyes of the tablet.