Sigurd stood in the shower, letting cold water splashed over his face and body. The frigid water shocked all his senses awake, throwing off the last remnants of sleep. He had only gone to bed in the wee hours of the morning after spending the previous night in Jessiah and Kahr's rowdy company. Tried as he might, Sigurd could never understand how Jessiah managed to quaff down endless shot glasses of his favorite whiskey without the least aftereffects. Sigurd could barely down more that three glasses before he gets totally drunk. The older man practically drank like a fish.

  Jessiah was the eldest among the four of them and though officially he was a commander in the Jugend army, he had kept up his friendship with the three younger undergraduates. It would not be long before Sigurd himself abandons his present student's uniform for that of a full Fire Element. Stepping out of the narrow cubicle that served as a shower stall, he stood in front of the full-length mirror, naked.

  His cerulean eyes raked the reflection in the mirror, taking in the dark amber skin and silver hair that marked him clearly as an outcast. Sigurd reached out a finger, touching the pane of glass that showed him a handsome man. A smile twisted with self-loathing marred the perfect features. He hated this place with a vehemence that stemmed from his very soul. Hated the people who came from the city in the sky, abducting him from the world he knew. Hated those who used and abused him, abasing him to no more that an animal. Yet most of all, he hated himself. Sigurd hated himself for not having the strength to control his own destiny.

  Grabbing a towel, he dried himself, bolting away the last traces of water drops. Sigurd closed his hand over the tiny burnished ring of silver that pierced his navel, his jaw tightening. The ring was a reminder, serving as a stigma to remind of the revenge he would one day take. Bitterness surged. What a failure I am to even need something like this… He glanced cynically at his own reflection again and saw what a sham the allure of his face and body was. Beyond the beautiful husk was the soul that was tainted and defiled by countless sins, sins of the flesh. Sigurd had betrayed his own body. He no longer remembered why he had started to dalliance with Solarian women, perhaps it was to gain a brief sense of power or control but with every liaison, the only one he was demeaning was himself and no one else.

  He should have killed himself long ago and he would have except for that single promise that held him back time and again when Sigurd stood on the threshold of life and death. The promise sworn by a son to his father. Bounded by his word, Sigurd lived on, hiding the true him beneath the mask of a flamboyant joker and womanizer.

  Closing his eyes, Sigurd concentrated. An image started to form in his mind. It was hazy, a clouded distant memory. Undaunted, he cast himself deeper into the past, seeking the elusive traces of that memory. Perceptively, the image sharpened, showing Sigurd the brilliant intense sunshine that could only be found on his homeland on the surface. Once again, he looked upon the Elru desert through the eyes of a six-year old child. The cool slender hand of his mother resting on his shoulder as she gently pushed him forward to face a blond-haired man. Sigurd would only find out much later that this man was none other than his blood father.

  As a child, Sigurd had always questioned his mother who his father was and why of all the people in their city, he was the only one with blue eyes the color of the sky. But she would just stroke his hair and replied that he would know when he was older with a melancholic smile on her face. She had not said a single word when they meet his father and he had only gazed at both mother and child with pained regret with the same eyes that looked out of Sigurd's own face. He kneeled so that he could look into the child's face clearly and Sigurd had met his regard with a firm and unwaveringly glance. The man reached out a hand gently touching his face before he rose to his feet.

  Some form of silent communication passed between his parents that Sigurd did not understand. They were standing so close but it seemed as if a vast distance separated them and he could sense a mutual longing. Finally, the man turned away and departed, his figure casting a resigned shadow on the warm sands. Sigurd's mother had wept that night, washing her face with her tears. She controlled her emotions through the day unwilling to distress her child. Yet she was defenseless against the memories of bittersweet love, ashes of time stirred into life by the night wind. She pined away unable to love again. Watching her as she laid on her deathbed, Sigurd had quietly sworn to himself that he would never love someone this way.

  A pensive sign escaped from his lips, shaking his head slowly Sigurd banished the cobwebs of old memories. He was a man now, no longer a child. He had ceased being a child long ago. Sigurd dressed quickly and faced the mirror again. Schooling his features into the mask he wore each day, he was ready.

  " I wish I'm dead, " Kahr muttered a heartfelt groan, holding a hand to his pounding head.

  His blood-shot eyes were half-shut, sensitive to the harsh artificial lights that illuminated the whole floating city. Kahr felt truly wretched with the hangover spoiling his mood for the whole morning. He would not have gotten out of bed if Sigurd had not dropped in and reminded him that they were to report for duty.

  " You should know better than to try and match Jessiah drink for drink, Kahr. That man probably drank whiskey instead of milk when he was a baby, " Sigurd looked back over his shoulder at Kahr disapprovingly.

  " Hey! You wouldn't have gotten off so lightly if not for me, Sig. At the least you could be more grateful and stop nagging. With Hyuga gone, I have to drink both his share and yours. Gosh, what would Reya think… "

  " Reya? I didn't know you have someone else besides Miang. Following in my footsteps, heh? Now why don't you tell me all about her, I promise I won’t tell Miang, " Sigurd threw an arm over Kahr's shoulder, leaning his head close in a conspiratorial way, his grin almost splitting his face.

  " Sigurd! It's nothing like that! Me and …and Miang…are just …fri..ends, " Kahr replied, his face flushed red all the way to his ears.

  " Friends indeed! Come now, we all know it's much more than that. What I didn't know was that there's another woman in the picture as well, " Sigurd continued to tease deliberately.

  " Sigurd Harcourt! Don't tell me you've forgotten everything! Reya's not what you think, she's my sister and she's the Tri-Element we are to meet! "

  " Oh? "

  " We're not blood-related but we grew up together with Igraine so Reya's like my sister. Got that clear in that filthy mind of yours? "

  " Hmmm… "

  " Anyway, be nice when you see her, Sig. "

  " Don't worry, I'll be at my most charming if she's anything like Jessie said. " Sigurd ran a hand over his hair, drawing appreciating looks from the many female Jugend students present as they headed towards the Gear training area.

  Kahr hid a smile behind his hand, wincing a little when he remembered his headache. He walked off first