For as long as she could remember, Cactus had been different. When she was a little girl her name had been Lillian, but she was always amazed with the cactus, for it was rumored to have astounding medical powers. So it was Cactus.

When she was a small child, running wild about the village with no mother and no home and no worries, she was as indifferent to her own strange self as she was to the dirt she kicked up with her bare feet. But as Cactus soon learned, all things must change, and not necessarily for the better. For Cactus had a strange and uncanny love for learing, she gathered all the knowlege she could catch into her mind and still searched hungrily for more.

Cactus worked as a researcher, and although work at the research table was sometimes boring (for, after all, there is only so much that one can learn at a table), it certainly was a good place to hear things--things consisting mainly of gossip. The day she turned eighteen Cactus heard an especially chatty girl about her age, discussing--her!

"Oh, Cactus is weird all right," said the girl, not paying any attention at all to her research. "But you know Ettan--he doesn't want some ordinary girl, he wants someone exotic, maybe even smart. And if Cactus isn't smart..."

Everybody laughed, and Cactus blushed. She quickly turned back to her work. But in the days to come, she payed close attention, to how Ettan, a muscular builder of about twenty-one, treated her. He often spoke to her when nobody else would, and even showed her a few building tricks. One year later, he asked her to marry him.

Cactus told him she would think about it, and went home with her head in the clouds. On the way she passed Mia, the girl who had been gossiping about her so long ago at the research table.

"Oh hello, Cactus," said Mia, smiling and speaking warmly, which was completly unlike her. "I saw you with Ettan today."

Cactus felt her face flush, although it was mostly with pride. "He's asked me to marry him."

"Yes," said Mia, still smiling. "Well, Cactus, I have a preposition for you. I'm not quite sure you're Ettan's type. What if I told him, very politly, that you would not like to marry him."

"N-not?" stammered Cactus, running a hand nervously through her coal-black hair. "Why--"

"I'll tell him tonight," answered Mia, and ran off through the fading twighlight.

Cactus stood, unbelieving, as if she were carved from stone. What could Mia be up to? And did she really think that Ettan would listen to her?

It seemed impossible to go to bed, now that her head was filled with thoughts of Mia, Ettan and herself. Cactus crept through the night, a shadow in the dark, an invisible ghost. She found her way to the research table.

Unsure why her feet had led her there, or if she had even been lead here at all, she began to sort some papers chronicaling past events. The arrival on the island. The discovery of farming. The final, bittersweet moment when the last origional had died. Every event had a story to tell, and every event was, somehow, not the one Cactus was looking for.

She was just about to leave when she saw a thin sheet of paper flutter to the ground. She picked it up and squinted to read in the glaring but insufficiant moonlight:

All those who care for our small island
Beware the golden child of Ettan
For laziness will take its toll
Isola will never again be whole

On the back was a little note: Reviewed by Mia

Cactus was once again overwhelmed by the frozen feeling. THIS was why Mia had tried to stop her from marrying Ettan! She had uncovered this ancient prophecy, spelling doom if he bore a child. But had she done it because she wanted to prevent a disaster? Or because she wanted to birth the precious, deadly child herself?

Suddenly Cactus felt her supply of breath being cut off. She gasped for air, and heard a voice above her: "Seen enough?"

Mia! Cactus struggled and struggled, cursing her captor, but the bonds held tight. Mia was dragging her...somewhere.

Mia stopped, panting, at the lagoon. "I know the ocean was closer," she gasped with a maniacal glint in her eyes, "But I wanted to drown both of you somewhere more, oh, romantic"

Cactus looked around and saw Ettan, shivering and bound as she was, sprawled on the rocks nearby. "Just let us go!" she cried to Mia, pleading with her dark eyes. But her words were muffled.

"I'm sorry, Cactus," Mia said, looking truly apologetic. "But you must understand. With the birth of Ettan's child, Isola will be lost. Your life will be honored forever for helping to save the island."

With that she pushed Ettan into the bubbling water. Cactus had just enough time to see the love of her life's terrified face before he was submerged.

Cactus looked at Mia with tears and pure hatred in her eyes, and then Mia pushed her into the water to join her beloved. But the bond on her left hand, which had scraped agianst a sharp gray rock, broke loose, and she grasped a rocky wall just in time. With a cry of rage, Mia dived in, but she misjudged the distance and hit her head on a sharp stone. It cut across her scalp, and crimson blood filled the water.

Cactus stared in amazment. Mia was gone! But her jubilation turned to sorrow when she remembered the price that had been payed. Ettan was dead. Had Mia truly believed she was helping Isola? Or had she acted with rage and jelousy that Ettan was in love with shy, bookish Cactus? None of that really mattered now, as Cactus stared despodently into the swirling red water, and that was what she was doing when, hours later, she was found, half dead, clinging to a rock, her face pale and forlorn.