August 8, 1980

	Shidou Madoka paused to watch the setting sun as she walked home
from the doctor's office.  This day, it seemed even redder than it did in
the morning ... but perhaps it was only the red in her eyes that made
it so.

	Sighing, she continued along the sidewalk, idly wishing that
she'd thought to drive to the doctor's office, instead of walking.  But
even though the family dojo was beginning to prosper, the family's budget
surely could not afford the gasoline to drive all the way across the ward
to the family doctor.  Still, it was good exercise, something that Madoka
enjoyed.  It helped take her mind off the sorrow.

	<You are being silly,> she told herself quietly.  <The world is
not going to end, simply because of this.  There is no reason for it to do
so.  You have given your family three sons.  You should be proud.  It
should not hurt to know ...>

	<... to know that your fourth child died before you even knew he
was on his way.>

	But it did.

	The moon had risen before the sunset, and just as she reached the
gate of her home, Madoka looked up for it.  It seemed unusually clear
this evening, and for the first time, she thought she could see
O-Tsuki-sama no Usagi.  She smiled, faintly at the thought.

	<Now, if I were only a character in a fairy tale, I would probably
chance on a baby girl in the woods ... who would turn out to be from the
moon.>

	<And when she was on the verge of womanhood, she would have to go
back, so I'd lose her anyway.  Perhaps it's just as well that fairy tales
don't happen.>

	"Don't they?" a soft voice whispered nearby.

	Madoka turned.

	Standing inside the gate of her home, near the small shrine, was a
woman.  A very tall, rather pale, blonde woman.  Her hair was done up into
a pair of buns on either side of her head, behind each of which a long
tail trailed.  She was carrying a bundle, which she held closely to her
bosom.

	Between her eyebrows glimmered the sign of the crescent moon.

	"K-konbanwa," Madoka heard herself say.

	The woman bowed, silently.

	"Who ... are you?" Madoka asked a moment later.

	"That does not matter," the woman said in a soft voice.  "I do not
know who you are, or why you are agrieved.  But I have been drawn to you,
across a gulf of time, because you are a mother who sorrows.  As am I."

	The woman began to walk across the distance separating the two of
them.  "In my time -- it does not matter when -- my people face a grave
danger.  I must return to stand with them, shortly ... but there is a task
which I must perform first."

	Madoka stared at the bundle in the woman's arms ... and knew.
"You can't mean --"

	"I do.  My daughter must be raised in a safer place than the one
to which I return."  The woman closed her eyes, then, and a single,
perfect tear trailed from each of them.  "Will you take her from me?
Could you love another woman's child as your own?"

	For a moment, Madoka stood, absolutely paralyzed.  "If I take her
now ... will there come a time when you will try to take her away from me?
When the danger is past, will you --"

	The woman shook her head.  "No.  I swear to you, by whatever you
hold sacred -- and by the Light -- that I shall never try to steal her
from you, by force or by guile.  If you take her ... she will be your
child in truth.  Not mine."

	The sincerity -- and perhaps the quiet pain, as well -- of the
woman's words captured Madoka's heart, and she held out her arms to take
the baby from her.

	Slowly, with infinite care, the woman transfered the tiny child,
wrapped in a fabric that felt like silk, but was much warmer, into
Madoka's arms.

	When it was done, she stared down into the child's deep, reddish-
brown eyes, and whispered a quiet farewell, then turned to leave.

	"What should I call her?" Madoka asked suddenly.

	The woman did not look back.  "I cannot say.  She had not yet been
given a name, having been born only a few hours ago."  Madoka looked down
at the child, whom she would have guessed was perhaps two months old, in
shock.  "And after all ... should not her mother name her?"

	"Should not the woman who gave her birth have a chance to do so?"

	The woman stopped in midstide.  She still did not look back.  But
the sense of sorrow that seemed to surround her grew.  "I do not know your
language," she murmured.  "Any name which I might give her could be ...
ill-chosen.  But know you this -- within her, she carries both light ...
and fire, as well.  Name her with these things in mind.

	"Farewell.  I do not think that we shall ever meet again."

	And then, without fanfare, she vanished.

	Madoka waited a moment to see whether or not the dream into which
she had fallen would continue, and then looked down at her new child.

	And at once, she knew her daughter's name.  "The Light of the Lion
Shrine ..." she whispered.  "Shidou Hikaru ..."

	Holding her daughter cafefully, Shidou Madoka went into her house
to reveal the dream to her husband and sons.

	And so it began.


                       Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon/
                         Magical Knights Rayearth


                           The Infinite Future

                               Coming Soon


Chris Davies, Advocate for Darkness, Part-Time Champion of Light.
"WHAT CAN THE HARVEST HOPE FOR, IF NOT FOR THE CARE OF THE REAPER MAN?" 
-- Death, in "Reaper Man", by Terry Pratchett.
http://www.ualberta.ca/~cdavies/hmpage.html