Konnichi wa minna! Hi it's me Dreameress again. For all of you broken hearted fan's, I sent out chapter two if you want to read it. I started this story because I was inspired to do it so don't get mad. I'll get the other two stories finished soon. Anyways, this story takes place in medieval times or something like that. Not In the 20th century so don't think that it is. Anyways, read on. I think it pretty nifty. Disclaimers: I don't own Sailormoon or any of those characters but I do own the characters I made up in this story. Minna san, yonde kudasai? ~~~~~~Everyone read. The mysterious stranger stood by the warmth of the crackling fireplace. The fire burned bright in the darkened bar. The atmosphere was shadowed and only the light of the fire shown in the darkness. There was a carpet in front of the fireplace, an oriental rug. It looked as if it came from the ancient Aladdin times. The stranger turned his gaze away from the fireplace and surveyed the cozy bar. There were 2 things that some would call a couch. They were a mixture of brown shades and were of a furry texture. There was also a rocking chair and a wooden table. Across from the sitting area there was a wooden counter and wooden stools surrounding it. The stranger looked into the embers of the fireplace. He could rest here for a few days and then continue on his journey. He would get to her as soon as he could. He just needed to? When he felt an incessant taping on his shoulder, her turned into the face of an old woman. He could almost call her a gypsy. She was dressed in robes of bold colors and her hair was tied back with some kind of ribbon. Her green eyes were slanted and her inquisitive glance was focused on him. She looked nervous for a second. She seemed to take a deep breath. "Senior, I was wondering if you could tell me of your journeys. You have the look of a warrior," Her voice was deep and feminine. She hesitated. "I am in need of a story great warrior and you look like you have more than a few up your sleeve," The stranger, dressed in his fur coat and muddy boots, pondered. Should he tell her of his scandalous story? The one of love lost and power gained. The one that changed his life forever. Should he tell her of loss and unbearable pain that no one should ever be put through? Of the courage one gains from determination and loss. He looked again toward the gypsy and was decided. He had a story that would stay with her and whoever else heard forever. His blue eyes shined with a new light. "Si, Senora, I shall tell you my story. But be prepared for it is one that is never forgotten," And with that he sauntered toward the couch and sat down. He waited while the gypsy gathered some of her friends: children, adults, old men and women, young women. They gathered at his feet and the surrounding area. And they looked toward the trusted stranger with eyes that told 1000 tales. And he began. "This is tale of loss and pain. Of love and hatred. Of weakness and strength. It all starts with a young boy. He was destined to become a hero. And he was not prepared for the dangers that lie ahead. Come, listen, and be warned. This is a special story and although it may seem false, indeed, it is true as the boots on my feet. It starts on the arising dawn of a special morning? Comments? Flames? Praises? Email? ME? Dreamress1@exctie.com