Atelier Lyon - Writings and Scribbles

SAILORMOON STORIES ± WRITING MAIN

The spring day breezed through the window, carrying scents of fresh grass and flowers, the warmth of the sunlight carrying lazy motes of dust on the air and the pervasive, not unpleasant smell of rock. The distant hum of activity wafted through his open window and tempted the man sitting behind the large desk with the first songs of the growing year. Scribbled notes, snatches of drawings, samples of different materials were strewn around the room. The man currently was occupied with the study of a blueprint carefully rolled out on the desk, only occasionally sparing a long suffering look to the day outside. He was dressed casually, he could have been an engineer or architect to judge by the clutter around him. Meticulously he made notes on the drawing, correcting subtle errors and adding notations to the builders for the correct materials for use.

He studied each print intently, the afternoon making its slow curve towards the distant, cool dusk. When the aching of his hand and mind grew too much, he paused to drink long swallows of clear water from the pitcher left enticingly for him. He brushed long, untended black hair from his eyes, promising himself absently to have it cut sometime soon. Leaning back in the creaking chair, Mamoru wistfully thought of throwing all the paper out the window, letting it all drift to the ground like some kind of odd butterfly and walking away from all this responsibility. To say the planning and building of Crystal Tokyo was a momentous challenge didn't even scratch the surface of the task. Even now, there were no doubt several vital problems collecting outside in his antechamber, eagerly awaiting their turn to sink their teeth into his flesh.

Mamoru winced, but could not really deny the aptness of the predatory analogy. Someone had to be in charge, someone to give order to the chaos and increasingly it looked like it had to be him. People had always deferred to him even as a young man, and now he could not shake the trappings of power and respect that chained him here. Holding the cold glass to his forehead he closed long eyes and wished mightily that he was in the north with Mako and Rei. That border had always been uneasy and had recently erupted again into near open conflict.

As commander generals of the home army, both women were on the front line, assessing damage and making vital decisions concerning defense and retaliation. The northern problems must be solved for good this time vowed Mamoru silently. The constant bickering did nothing but drain resources and kill men on both sides - a distressing reality. There must be a way to resolve the political differences, to bring the northern lords into alliance with the growing hegemony that was centered on the building of Crystal Tokyo. Mamoru's mind worried at the problem like a dog with an old bone, too meatless to chew but too stubborn to give it up. With a sigh, Mamoru knew that Mars and Jupiter were the best choices to be there, and that he was stuck here to give clear leadership to his people and reinforcing visibly the surety of his dominion of this land.

His dominion. The phrase struck warning bells in his psyche and he gave up all pretense of studying the latest revisions in front of him, leaning back into the complaining embrace of his chair. The plans were for the new phase of the palace to be erected for the Emperor and Empress, their Supreme Majesties Neo King Endymion and Neo Queen Serenity. Mamoru winced again at the pompous phrasing but knew that the people lived and died for that certainty, that the King and Queen ruled the empire and that all the world must now bow to their combined authority. And that was the problem on his horizon - * his * dominion should rightfully be * their * dominion. Increasingly, Usagi was absolving herself of responsibility, allowing Mars and Jupiter to take command of the empire's defenses, Venus controlling the court and all its machinations, balancing the power of the world's leaders against the desires of the imperial court. Mercury continued with what she did best, researching and discovering many useful things, delving into mysteries that sometimes proved invaluable to them. Even the wandering souls of Michiru and Haruka aided the growing power, acting as diplomats in foreign courts - sometimes as persuasive mediators and sometimes as spies. Setsuna remained as she always had, Guardian of the Time Gates, although thankfully not alone at the moment, having Hotaru there keeping her company.

And despairingly, Mamoru knew he did all of it - liasing with the war effort and its generals, soothing the fears of political guests in court, trading diplomatic insults and power maneuvering on the dance floor of the imperial residence, increasingly becoming more involved with Ami and her research assistant Natia as they moved ever closer to the solution of the machine ruins that had been found so near to the palace grounds. Increasingly he had seen less and less of Usagi, usually breaking his fast with Mina sometime in the early morning to discuss diplomatic solutions to the escalating problem of the northern provinces. Then came a full and overfull day that left him working way into the night, only to crawl into a cold bed as Usagi distracted herself with fawning courtiers and late parties. He was up with the dawn while she slept late, only to begin another round of giddy butterfly dances the next day.

Lord knows, he had tried to give her more responsibility, to make her feel more involved and to show her the vital need for her involvement. The problem was, she tended to things only half-heartedly, usually leaving more problems in her wake that if she had never been involved at all. Look at that near disaster with the minister of Orana Province! Only Mina's skillful maneuvering had saved that situation, and a certain amount of her disarming smile. He had thrown his hands up at the time and Usagi had retreated emotionally into petulant sulking, an unattractive trait she still resorted to in times of stress. It had seemed simpler to let her go her bubble headed way, to allow her to charm her way into the affections of the people around her without forcing her to mature before she was truly ready.

Intellectually Mamoru knew she was frightened of the responsibility that was increasingly laid upon them as the governmental figure heads, that her retreat into vacuousness was a typical Usagiism for avoiding making any decisions at all. But that left him holding her reins of power as well as his own, and worse, being seen by other as the only one with control. If this trend was allowed to continue much longer, it would soon be King and consort, not a ruling pair of joined powers.

She had to grow up, to make her mistakes and learn from them although it made his head swim on how he was going to accomplish this character transformation alone. It was an annoyance now, but it would be real problem in later years if Usagi was seen as merely his mate, and not as a ruling power in her own right. If she ever needed to wield that power, it would not answer her . . . and that could prove a catastrophic error.

Yet that was a problem for tomorrow - he hadn't seen Usa in days, knew she was gadding about with some of the younger courtier set and discovered he was only able to feel a pale shadow of the anger that usually came over him. He was just so tired, exhausted by the long hours and decisions that multiplied like locusts. She had so much more to offer - her star was brighter than anyone's when she let it be, was the true match both for his heart and mind - but fear ruled her soul. He couldn't even talk to her about it, they always ended up shouting at each other, saying hurtful things that neither of them truly meant. Then would follow long days of silence and stiff conversations. He truly didn't think he could deal with any of that tonight and sneakily hoped she would be out when he returned to their apartments. He loved her with all his heart, knew she felt the same - but still, they couldn't even talk civilly to each other anymore.

Sometimes he would be walking a corridor with someone, discussing some weighty problem or other, and he would suddenly smell her perfume and know that she had recently walked this way and his spirits would rise for no reason. Once he had smiled to her across a room, delighting in the colour of her hair and she had tentatively smiled in return, blooming like the honey child she was. He loved her desperately, fiercely and was totally at a loss as to how to give her confidence in herself. He, who handled the fate of an entire empire in his hands every day, couldn't handle the frustration of one frightened, not-so-little girl.

As the sun sank towards evening, Mamoru mused on the twin problems of a kingdom in turmoil and a girl with hair of golden light.

It was a similar afternoon a few months later when Mamoru knew that their solution to at least one of their problems was working. It had been a missive from Rei that had triggered it, as she reported the quelling of the hostilities along the hilly northern routes earlier in the year.

To Neo-King Endymion from Commander-General Hino:
Greetings. As you are no doubt aware, the uprising along the Kinshan Province border has been dealt with and I remain to make certain the clean up is complete before returning to the capital. The root cause seemed centered with the local clan lords, and after much talking through their thick skulls, it seems to have boiled down to concern over the taxes the northern provinces pay to enter the trade fairs in this area. The sheep they are bringing into the local area is starting to drive down the price of wool and our people are justifiably worried that a drop in pricing will ruin the local economy.
This may be a calculated plot by the rebel leaders to bring conflict to this area, or it could simply be unfortunate timing. I have taken the time to enter the rebel territory myself and this year's floods have been particularly severe on the grazing ranges. The clan leaders seem to have no choice but to bring their surviving herds into our trade fairs and although they are paying the appropriate taxes in all but a few cases, a glut is a growing concern.
I give this problem back to you, my king. Things are as settled as they ever are in this area but there must be some way to turn this to our advantage - I leave it to your clever thoughts to find the benefit in this.
By my hand and seal,
Rei Hino
Commander-General

As he had read the short note, an idea had begun to bloom and after a number of discussions and refinements with Venus, he had implemented the new plan. They had decreased tariff taxes on sheep and wool for all the other producers within that trading area. Now the threatened glut of wool and mutton in that area was a harsh reality, and the rebel provinces were being forced to trade their goods at a much lower price than they had bargained for when they had brought them over from their own flooded lands. It had hit their government where it hurt most, the treasury. And now they had a diplomat from the North dancing courtly steps with Venus in the evenings and whirling his way closer and closer to inclusion into the hegemony of the empire. It had taken the astute eyes of Mars to discover the root cause, not an easy thing to do in the midst of a bloody guerrilla war. Silently he raised a thought to the sharp notice of Rei Hino and was rewarded by distant laughter in the farthest reaches of his awareness. Brat of a priestess he thought with warm amusement. She was psychically tethered to all of them now, that her insights and visions could be given directly to them should the need arise. They had worked that out during the Great War when her warnings could be given mind to mind, as quickly as she was aware of it. It had saved them all on at least one occasion.

They all had grown in surprising ways, he mused to himself as he leaned back to stare out the window blankly, even the pretense of work abandoned. Each of the warriors had transformed into mature women, in power and outlook even as their bodies had slowed in their growth. As the most mystic of them, Rei had naturally bloomed into a deeper understanding of her power, both as the warrior of fire and as a true priestess of her element. She could light a candle sitting on her desk - or cause a firestorm to rival any that nature could unleash.

Each had delved into understanding of their birthright, Jupiter commanding the forces of weather and wind, although her strongest affinity was still for storms. When not otherwise occupied, she monitored the weather, handling minute adjustments that diverted or reduced the worst nature had to offer. If you needed Makoto, she would probably be found supervising the seedlings in the palace gardens, communing with the slow growing oak trees. When he had asked, Mako had replied with a dreamy voice that oaks were the most tranquil of trees and that the surge of sap in their trunks felt like the universe breathing. Mamoru knew his lack of understanding must have shown on his face, for Mako had laughed before she patted his cheek and sauntered off.

To Venus fell all the frightful power of the sun and its healing, destructive strength. It had been in the middle of the true war that brought the peace that was Crystal Tokyo when Neo-King Endymion had commanded Venus the Warrior of Love in a voice that he hadn't recognized as his own - and she had answered with a living column of light too bright to look upon. Beams of coherent light had hurtled from her fingers like daggers from her soul - and every machine arrayed before them on the battlefield had fallen smoking to the ground, pierced through their metal hearts.

The light did not discriminate between metal and flesh and many had died simply for being in the way of the fearful light. It was nearly a human generation since that battle, all the blood long ago soaked into the forgiving earth, but Mamoru knew that Minako still grieved for that instant of radiant power. And it was that power that complimented her but still did not consume her. Venus was many things that he knew Usagi would eventually be; accomplished, confident, graceful and competent in the arenas of diplomacy and tact, a true boon in both the court and the council chamber. Many looked to Venus for guidance, seeing in her a true power. Already there were subtle questions and machinations of the court, that Usagi should be put aside and that Venus should ascend the double throne in the yet unfinished room that would be the final seat of power in the empire.

Mamoru had never formalized their match, knowing that their marriage would be in that unbuilt hall of power, but the short-sighted conspirators saw only a love match made in their youth and two people desperately far apart from each other. Venus was logically a better match, but impossible for all the reasons he could not explain if anyone had dared to broach the subject directly. Mamoru clung to the hope that Usa would eventually grow into that same self assured power - and finally match her life to his in full equality.

Mercury was the quietest of all, as she had always been, a voice of reason in the chaos that had been their lives for so many years. A doctor and a research scientist, Ami had studied and measured their powers, a mystery she enjoyed tracing to its roots. It was she who had discovered why they stopped aging, why Jupiter's affinity was for oak trees but not pines. Her own mastery of the waters of the deep were as complete as she knew how to make them, surpassing even the priestess of fire which miffed Rei no end whenever she thought about it. Perhaps not so surprisingly, Jupiter and Mercury had become the best of friends, tall war-like Makoto balanced by the gentle healing nature that was Ami. Jupiter's command of the forces of nature meshed beautifully with Mercury's dominion over the waters of life. They were a formidable team, if the most unlikely.

As if his musing had cued her, Mamoru looked up from his pondering to see the door opening lightly and Ami walking with a quick step towards him. He grinned and stood up from his seat, bowing gracefully over the intervening desk and planting a small kiss on her offered, upturned wrist. Wrinkling her nose, Ami sat on the nearest available space, in this case a piece of cool gray marble that would eventually become part of the floor of the reception hall. She swung her heels naughtily against the stone, making small clicking sounds of impatience. Her eyes shone at him with laughter at his courtly behavior and a certain something he wasn't sure of, but thought might have been understanding. It wasn't often anymore that he could share the comfort of having a friend to tease - and he was glad it was Ami who always had interesting things to say.

'Practicing your manners, you lout?' Ami inquired sweetly, needling him with long familiarity. Mamoru grinned into her sparkling blue eyes and settled back into his chair.

'Such beauty deserves notice.' he quipped back. Ami was normally a bright person, but today she brimmed with some irrepressible news. Mamoru grinned laconically and waited for Ami to spill it in her own way. She kicked at the rock a few more moments then hopped down to wander the small space, poking at papers and peering intently at the clutter that littered the place. She looked like an incorrigible child at this moment, all bright eyes and restless movement - a far cry from the accomplished doctor and princess she was.

'You don't need a good broom, you need a good fireplace,' she observed wryly, wrinkling her nose again but this time at the mess. Ami could only be described as compulsively neat at the best of times and the chaos that he lived in probably had her fingers twitching in nervous reaction. Finally, Ami could contain herself no longer, and with a sly glance at the long suffering look on his face, mentioned casually, "Natia's figured the machine out, she thinks."

Lightning excitement straightened his spine and he leaned forward eagerly against the once polished desk surface. "Really?! That's great! Is it something we can use? What does it do exactly? How did she figure it out?" Mamoru brimmed with a thousand instant questions but settled for the more urgent ones in his head. Laughing, Ami held up both hands to fend off the deluge.

"Who knows, not sure, how about we go ask her? I've only got the message myself and I knew you'd never forgive me if I didn't include you in on the juicy details." Ami's eyes were just as eager as his, this was unexpected good news.

When Usa and he had walked over this site so long ago ( was it really that long ago? Surely not! ) and had made plans for the vision of Crystal Tokyo, neither of them had realized that the area held another treasure - a buried complex dating from ancient times, perhaps even older than the Silver Millennium. When the first buildings had been started and the foundations dug, the ruins had been discovered and a research team had descended like so many birds come to roost. It had all seemed fairly straightforward at first, a few remnants of building, broken unidentifiable items of no discernable purpose, strange patterns on the surviving fragments of wall and floor. It had been interesting enough, but he had been much more concerned with the living city, not a dead one. That had changed drastically when the archeological team had widened their sampling area and had discovered another building away from the main complex, intact in every regard. The structure was domed and quite large, made of some reddish brown material that looked like stone but instead had proved to be a metal alloy that resisted any attempts to pierce it, even with conventional plasma welders.

The outside walls were most remarkable, thickly carpeted with weird designs that one moment resembled twisted, looping script, the next looking more like fanciful animals and birds. After the earth had been cleared away the structure had stood alone and naked in the bare bones of the earth, its single door carefully outlined and impenetrable. Although unusual in its size and location away from the first group, it hadn't been odd enough to captivate Mamoru's interest. It had taken Ami and a young archeologist, the daughter of the project leader as it happened, to solve the problem of opening the door. After months of careful study, Ami had made the breakthrough of finding the designs responded to minute heat sources, and the daughter, Natia, had connected that to the intricate scroll designs and had traced the correct opening pattern. And then all hell had broken loose. The place had contained intricate machinery, apparently in good working order, and totally incomprehensible to anyone.

The first time he had entered the structure, he had thought he'd been fooled by the walls outside - it seemed much larger inside than outside. The effect was achieved with the subtly reflective surface that coated the interior of the dome. The walls carried no decoration at all surprisingly, considering the surplus of it on the outside. The only things in the single room were squarely in the center - a dais of pale grey stone that contained within its borders a ghost image of a translucent shimmering fire - flames that reached perhaps a man's height high, twisting and reaching languidly, subtly reflected by the walls surrounding it. It was Ami who dubbed the place a temple, since nothing else really seemed to describe its function. Mamoru had had to agree, it had a feeling of presence that he really only noticed in churches.

In a half arc around the dais was the machinery that looked to control the quasi-fire. The control surface was raised and tilted at a comfortable working level for a standing person, arguing for terrestrial origins. The whole panel was covered with the scrollwork designs, looped and relooped on itself, so intricate it made his eyes swim to stare at it. The whole thing could have been a weapon, a place of worship, or an object of art - there was no way to know. As Natia had had the insight as to the working of the entry door, she had been given sole charge of this puzzle as well. Personally, Mamoru felt she was a little young for the responsibility, but she seemed to be handling it brilliantly. A number of times he had talked with her regarding her progress on the workings of the machine and thought her capable if a little unstable, too involved and mono-focused in her work to be a balanced individual. Like he was one to talk, he thought wryly. After the first few sessions with Natia, he had seen something like hero worship and adulation in her eager eyes, and afterwards he had confined himself to receiving updates through Mercury. He had been on the receiving end of possessive adoration a few times - it was not a feeling he cared to encourage in anyone.

But this, this was momentous. If Natia had indeed solved the puzzle, if she had figured out even a portion of why the machinery worked and what it was good for, it would be invaluable if only for the prestige of it. Mamoru was not above using any tool for the enhancement of the empire, even snob appeal could work with some touchy lordlings. With a smile that was rarer that it had been in times past, he stepped away from his desk and gave a casual glance at himself. He was wearing simple, comfortable clothes that were easy to work in for long periods of time. He shrugged mentally, it didn't really matter if the court saw him in relaxed dress and he wasn't going to waste the time to go and changed into something more formal. It was with a sense of true anticipation that Mamoru paced the long lengths of hallway and corridor with the dimutitive Ami at his side, leaving his chains of paper aside for the moment.

Natia waited, and her attention was more dangerously focused that anyone around her truly realized. It had taken many months of dedicated, patient work to reach this point, where it had finally fallen into place. Natia knew she had run her team to the edge of exhaustion and beyond with correlating the designs on the outside of the temple with any matching patterns on the control panel. Natia herself had laboured long hours over the patterns, trying to repeat that moment of insight that had shown her how the doors opened. Young and brilliant, Natia had struggled to prove herself, to outshine her illustrious father's success in this field. For every success she had, for every theory formulated and proved correct, she had hoped for her father's approval, to force him to say that she was good at this, that she was worth something. But her father had never seemed to notice or to care, had always been too busy with his own work, his own pet theories.

But this . . . this machine could be the break she had been waiting for. If she could get the panel to respond, could figure out the rest of the sequencing of the markings . . . that might finally earn her the attention of her abstracted father. And even sweeter, the attention of Neo King Endymion.

Natia ran caressing hands over the golden alloy that made up the half arc of the console. This hunk of machinery would give her the means to entrap the Neo King, would make him her very own for as long as she wished it. And after having gazed into those deep blue eyes, Natia knew she would wish it for a very, very long time. She gazed pensively into the translucent, swirling flames and waited for the moment of her greatest desire to arrive.

Oblivious to Natia's intentions, Mamoru strode with Ami along the corridors of the palace. Looking out the passing windows, he could see the bones of the palace grounds being raised into place, even the completed sections still with that raw look that spoke of their recent erection. It would be many years until it was completed, many more until it would truly be the center of the empire, but Mamoru was not displeased with the progress they were making. The spring sunshine shone over everything indiscriminately, and unconsciously he started to breathe easier and to stand a little taller. It had been a long time since he had gone anywhere for pleasure, longer yet with someone who shared that pleasure. A glance to the side showed the look on Ami's face was as keen as his own. He understood Ami's protectiveness towards the young Natia, perhaps seeing in her an echo of her own childhood, the aloneness Ami had felt before the discovery of the senshi that had given her friends to rely on. Mamoru grinned at the alert expression in Ami's normally calm eyes. Ami looked up and caught the quirky smile, giving him a mock punch in the shoulder for his insolence.

'This is what is missing with Usa,' he suddenly realized with a pang of anguish, his casual gaze sharpening suddenly. ''I can't remember the last time that we were together that we laughed . . . that we did anything that wasn't state related. Political dinners, construction plans, restructuring of supply routes . . . I probably wouldn't even recognize her unless she disguised herself as a damned map. I need to make more time for us . . for her and I to be together again the way we were before." Mamoru's step faltered a little as he mused silently to himself. Ami gave him a questioning look, but he missed it as his sharp perception focused inwards. He tried to remember the sound of Usagi's laughter, and when he had last heard it for him alone. "We've been together so long . . . gods how I miss her." Lost in this moment of revelation, Mamoru failed to notice the gradual increase of voices ahead of them until they rounded a corner and stumbled into a large gaggle of people congregating in a hallway intersection. Looking up, Mamoru realized something strange was going on but tall as he was, he couldn't see over the backs of everyone to the middle where the action seemed to be. Loud shouts of encouragement and excitement echoed around the large open area, and with a quizzical look to an equally mystified Ami, he started to work his way forward along the corridor edge.

Finally they managed to worm their way into a spot of vantage to see what all the shouting was about. In the center, surrounded by a rough circle of onlookers, two men were blindfolded with paint brushes in their hands. As witnessed by their stained clothing, both men had scored hits, although apparently not 'fatally' so as the match continued. The smaller of the two, dressed in a peacock wardrobe of scarlet and gold, seemed to be the crowd favorite, the hoarse shouts ebbing and flowing like water around the combatants.

"What's going on?" he asked of his nearest neighbor, a dimutitive woman of indeterminate age, who was presently trying to peer through several thick bodies to see the fight. Without turning, the woman replied, Mamoru straining to catch the answer through the roaring of the crowd that was getting larger and more unruly as the contest went on.

"Oh, 'tis truly a sight isn't it? I was with Lord Priaric's party as we were travelling in some haste to attend the summer pavilion in the gardens. When we came to this intersection, m'lord himself did not pay as much attention as perhaps he should have, and bumped into yon lad as he carried his pail of paint. The poor lad spilled the paint, through no fault of his own I might add, and m'lord Priaric got his lovely shoes splattered. For a moment it looked quite ugly, as m'lord is not a patient man, but then she appeared down the other hallway with such laughter on her face that both lads couldn't help but be enchanted." A roar went up through the crowd, and the woman strained on tiptoe to see the commotion, Mamoru noting that one of the combatants had fallen to one knee. He strained to hear her through the increased hilarity.

"She said that such an insult needed to be avenged, and that as no one could determine who had bumped into who, the duel should be equal and with the offending paint. The loser must finish the bas-relief and the victor a kiss from the lady for the defense of his honour." As she finished her brief summation, a large howl arose from the crowd and Mamoru looked up swiftly to see the young lord in scarlet and gold who had slipped in the half congealed paint covering the floor. The other boy, with clothing now revealed to be a painter's smock liberally splashed with colour, seemed to sense his momentary advantage and started swinging the paintbrush with wild abandon. A number of spectators too close to the fighting area got their own dose of justice, and cries of foul play were raised into the air to be ignored by the majority of eager participants.

Finally the end came abruptly as the standing boy bumped into the retreating lord on the floor and with a quick swipe was able to plaster the smaller boy with a faceful of paint. Howls of laughter and groaning were heard, and Mamoru saw many an item change hands as the bettors were forced to pay up their wagers. It was with a sense of deja vu that he heard an all too familiar voice raised in laughter, calling an end to the conflict and proclaiming the winner.

It was with fresh eyes that Mamoru watched from the anonymity of the crowd as Usagi stepped gracefully forward, clutching skirts to keep them from trailing in the sticky paint. Both boys lifted their blindfolds and stood arrayed before her like knights errant about to receive roses from their lady fair, or perhaps more like school children about to receive a scolding from the head mistress.

And queen she was in this moment of comedy and laughter. It was with grace and a sparkling good humour that she dubbed the worker lad as the winner with a swift peck to the one clean spot on his cheek. And with equal grace, Usagi praised the young lord Priaric for his valiant fight, successfully forestalling the incipient anger in his body and even coaxing a true smile to his face. Lord Priaric was granted a stay of judgment as it was deemed that all the paint for the wall had been used in the fight and none was left for the work. Like a mother goose with unruly chicks, Usagi lifted white hands and started to shoo everyone away, sending the young labourer to find a work crew to clean the mess.

Mamoru slipped down silently from his perch of observation, and sinuously glided mostly unseen through the dispersing crowd, approaching Usa unobtrusively from the side as she laughed with the court followers. A once familiar quirky smile was on his lips as he slipped up beside her, noting absently the belated obeisances of the nobility, most of them awkwardly dropping into formal courtesies as his approach was seen. Usagi looked around in startlement and her face mirrored confusion for a moment before she realized they were not suddenly bowing to her. She turned quickly and a look of astonishment crossed her precious face as she came nose to nose with the silent Mamoru. He didn't give her a chance to say anything, but grabbed her by the waist and hauled her in for a long kiss. It was just like it always was for them, the moment he kissed her he forgot the rest of the world even existed, that they had ever said hard words to each other. He loved her so much it seemed that his soul shook with it. When they finally broke the kiss, Usagi's eyes were dreamy and soft, the look he so much loved to see. He gazed deeply into her beloved eyes and leaned forward to kiss her again. It was the silence that made him raise dazed eyes to the people surrounding them, most still in formal obeisance around them. His sharpening gaze caught some looks of embarrassment, in a few women a look of undisguised lust. But wonderingly he also saw no few gazes that held respect and some undefinable emotion that might have been wistfulness. He turned back to Usagi in time to see her look of love fade back into uncertainty and wariness. He forestalled her slight movement as she tried to get more distance between them, tucking her more closely into his side. Leaning down, he tickled her ear with his lips, delighting in the gooseshivers he gave her. Wickedly he whispered in her ear, ignoring her blushes. " I'm kidnapping you. Don't try and fight me, I'll only chase you. It could prove embarrassing if I have to carry you away from here over my shoulder."

Usagi's eyes flew wide and she looked up uncertainly at him. Whatever she saw there must have convinced her, for she blushed even more furiously but nodded shyly at him. Hesitantly she pulled away, but only to twine her fingers in his. With a wave, Mamoru acknowledged the courtiers and grandly announced that the Neo Queen had pressing business elsewhere at the moment. Her heightened colouring said everything, and with knowing glances, the glittering ensemble paraded out to attend the summer pavilion's entertainment. Soon they were alone with the drying paint and the tactful, out of easy earshot presence of Mercury.

" I'm tired of being cooped up indoor, Usako," he murmured. " Let's go outside and sit in the trees and feed birds or something. I love the sunlight in your hair . . . " he said, reaching to tug caressingly at her long tresses. " Ami and I were just going to talk to Natia for a moment, then how about you and I find a quiet spot and we'll pick flowers for your hair?" Mamoru smiled coaxingly at Usagi, and was rewarded by that famous pinball smile that lit her whole face. .

" I'd love that Mamo-chan, that sounds just heavenly," Usagi replied hesitantly, ducking her head and blushing still for no apparent reason. Sensing the intimate moment was lessening, Ami walked up and the three of them paced the hallway together, passing the approaching workmen as they attended to the scene of the accident. Mamoru and Ami chatted amiably about the possibly discoveries Natia might have made, wondering which of the lines of research had paid off. Mamoru knew this kind of talk made Usa either bored or anxious depending on how much self esteem she had at the moment, so as they walked he frequently raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. Usagi made no demure, instead opting for stately dignity as they walked. Eventually they reached one of the palace exits and proceeded into the courtyard.

It was perhaps a half hour's walk to the excavation site, and Mamoru blessed the fact that the temple structure was away from the main working archeological dig. They wouldn't have to trek through the inevitable dust and grime that was raised at the main site. They wandered to the right of the dig and slightly behind, passing by the young tree plantings and flower beds of what would eventually become another extension of the royal garden. Over a slight rise they looked down into the slight pit where the house stood. It's scrollwork decorations shone iridescent in the spring sunshine, creating a lovely, if slightly disturbing effect. Personally, Mamoru found the patterns made him slightly nauseous if he looked too long at them so he studiously avoided looking at them directly. Ami on the other hand professed no such sense of vertigo and would blithely trace patterns for hours on end, a pastime he privately thought was better off left to those employed to figure them out. He grinned ruefully at himself, an amused glance passing over the shining blue hair of Mercury at his side. Of all people, he should understand the acquisition of knowledge simply for its own sake. Heart light for the first time in many days, Mamoru held the hand of his beloved and walked down the incline into the slight shade of the depression, keen with anticipation of the promised outing to decorate her hair with flowers, and to renew again the reasons he loved her to distraction.

Natia heard the echoing footsteps in the outer entry, and then the warm voice of Ami Mizuno calling out. Anxiously she smoothed down her research coat, and turned to smile brightly at the approaching party. Her shining gaze fell immediately on the tall form of Neo King Endymion, and she drank in the sight of his broad shoulders, narrow waist and the flex of strong thighs under the smoothness of his softly worn denims. Reflexively her tongue licked her lips, and she jerked her eyes back to his face. Even halfway across the room she could tell the exact shade of his eyes, and her body shivered slightly in reaction to his nearness. He raised a hand in greeting and Natia knew her mouth was dry, her loosely clasped hands shaking a little with the approaching moment and her mind suddenly blank with awareness of what she was about to attempt.

Endymion turned to his other side slightly to whisper something behind him, away from the familiar form of Doctor Mizuno, and with disbelief Natia saw that he held the hand of a radiant blonde woman. For a moment her mind went white and her eyes went flat and narrow. Her memory struggled to give her a name - Neo Queen Serenity. Her anger started to rise under her momentary confusion. She had heard that the king and queen barely spoke and she had mentally relegated Serenity to non status in her proposed conquest of Endymion. Yet suddenly she was here where she was most definitely not wanted, a third party when Natia had bargained on only two. Natia seethed silently at this sudden turn of events, but stepped forward crisply with her bright grin still firmly attached to her lips.

" Your Majesties," she said as calmly as she could, inclining her head in acknowledgment. Endymion waved away the need for anything formal as they closed the final few steps. " I didn't expect to see you so soon."

"Wild horses wouldn't have kept us away," Endymion said smoothly. His expressive eyes looked down into hers and Natia was sure they held more than a trace of warmth for her. " If half of what Ami was saying is true, you've done a miraculous job. If you've managed to get even a portion of the controls working, I'll nominate you for the highest medal in your profession myself." Natia knew she was going to blush like a schoolgirl under that intense gaze and hastily she stepped back, lowering her eyes to maintain her composure.

"Perhaps even better, my king, for not only have I determined the working of a portion of the panel, I can also tell you what the machine is." Natia was rewarded by the sudden indrawn breath from Ami and the eager expression on Endymion's face. She looked up firmly again, this time fixing her eyes studiously on the familiar face of Ami. "Come here and I'll show you," she said calmly.

Obligingly, Ami quietly stepped around and Natia retreated to indicate the nearest portion of the control surface. "The charts and progression chains you can read over later, but for now I'll give you what I've found," she said briskly, putting the first motion of her plan into action. "Here and here," she said, " controls the opening of the portal." Her suddenly graceful hands traced certain patterns on the surface, fingers stroking the brilliant designs. Under her warm fingertips they began to glow an intense blue, seeming to raise slightly from the cool surface around them. The dream like flames on their dais began to deepen in colour.

"Portal?" queried Ami in a fascinated tone. Natia gave Ami a grin and confirmed it.

"Portal. This sequence opens the smallest power connections and causes the colours of the tendrils to reflect the increase in energy consumption." Natia reached casually and a few more patterns sprang to life under her knowing fingers. The mock flames began to reach upwards and became a deep hue of gold and red. Natia dared a look over Ami's bent head to see how Endymion was reacting. He was leaning forward eagerly and his rapt expression was everything she could have hoped for.

"As you can see, power flow and consumption are clearly visible simply by visual observation. This 'machine' had been left in power down state, with only minimal energy requirements. I'm not sure what energy it uses, although I suspect the outside designs are photosynthetic to some degree and that reserve energies are stored throughout the network. That can be studied at leisure now that I know how to get the 'machine' to respond, and to be in active mode."

Ami looked at her pupil sideways. "You keep saying 'machine' Natia, as if you really mean to say something else."

"You're right. I say machine, but it isn't really, precisely, a construct. From the little I've been able t o discover, the framework is what we would consider a machine, but the physical flame wall holds something alive - or at least, very definitely not machine. It's entirely possible that there is intelligence of some degree sorting through the machine responses to the console. But was for what that thing is - if its even really there - that's a little too complex at this stage of investigation." Natia tried to take an unobtrusive breath. Then smoothly, in the tone of voice she had rehearsed for hours - "My king, would you care to be the test subject for the next revelation?"

Endymion chuckled and inclined his head, as she had earnestly hoped he would. "Is it going to hurt?" he said warmly.

Natia smiled but inwardly rejoiced. "Assuredly not my liege. What I would like to demonstrate is a part of the machine's capabilities. Dr Mizuno, if you would care to stand here, I'll show you the readouts. My lord, if you would care to stand in front of the platform, perhaps a dozen even paces from it."

Ami shifted over to Natia's left, bright gaze focused on the now actively lit console. Endymion moved to comply, pacing into the center of the room and leaving Serenity looking a little lost at the console's edge. As he stepped away from her, Natia's sharp gaze saw her indrawn breath and furrowing brow, as if she sensed something amiss. Hurriedly, she started her rehearsed patter again.

"The machine itself has a number of functions that I have been able to determine, and probably several dozen more that I have yet to figure out. This one that I am about to demonstrate, is simply a medical scan. It seems to be sampling DNA, circulatory and respiratory rates, measuring brain wave patterns - in short, just about every test you might want to run, and without the pain of even having to remove a stitch of clothing."

Watching out of the corner of her eye, Natia saw him walk into the required distance from the flames and her body tensed with the peak of excitement screaming along her nerve endings. Lightly, her hands stroked the panel one more time. Dusky lines of green and silver flared to life, and a questing tendril of flame lifted away from the writhing mass and began to lean out towards Endymion. He eyed it warily but did not move as it encircled his waist like a snake made of light, wavering and then firming into a solid connection. Natia's smile grew larger and more predatory, and she began to point out to Ami the various readings that now flickered across the console. At this crucial moment, almost her whole attention was attuned to the machine, the unattached part of her brain continuing to respond to the anticipated presence of Ami at her side. Her eyes flickered over the more sinister displays, waiting for the moment when the machine finished sampling the Neo King for identification. The seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness and Natia made a conscious effort to breathe normally, all senses at hyper-alertness. An eon later, a previously dark section flared to life and her heart bumped painfully in her chest. She watched her own hand as if it was in slow motion, raise to the new lights and casually trace their patterns. She heard the sudden roar as she opened all the power channels to full potential and the flames rushed to the ceiling, the sudden crazy light nearly bright enough to make her wince. She raised her head just in time to see the outline of her beloved Endymion encased in living flame, as the flame drew him into its uncaring embrace.

In a sudden move, before Ami could appreciate the sudden horror that had happened, Natia's hand dived into her pocket and suddenly the deadly length of a gun was in her grasp. Ami had already turned, testament to her battle reflexes with arms raised to attack. Natia's arm whipped back and with a madman's sudden strength brought the heavy metal across in a vicious attack that caught Ami on the temple. She dropped almost without a sound, bright blood streaming across her face, blood that now stained Natia's hand. With a delicious, heavy feeling, Natia turned to face the unwanted presence of Serenity.

Usagi screamed in rage and terror, the ghost image of Mamoru against a backdrop of writhing flames burning in her eyes. She ran forward with outstretched arms but there was only air where he had stood. She whirled in the dancing light and in her suddenly raised hand the ginzuishou flared to incandescent life, a point of diamond clarity against the incipient madness in her eyes. "Bring him back!" she shouted wildly, taking a few steps towards Natia. Her pretty features were twisted by rage and Natia fell back in sudden fear. "Release him!" Usagi demanded again.

Natia's spine stiffened, and she raised the gun she had unconsciously lowered. "Never!" she hissed vindictively. " If he can't be mine, I'll make sure he'll never be yours!" Then unbelievably, she turned and the gun flared to life, burning half the console into slag in a few short moments. With an insane light in her eyes, she twisted to face the stunned queen. "You had everything," she snarled, the light playing mercilessly over her contorted features. "Wealth, power, friends . . . and you had him, and you didn't care. Everyone could see how little you cared - he should have been mine!" The last was nearly howled, and Usagi was frozen in her own terror and sudden, overwhelming guilt.

Natia continued, oblivious to everything but Serenity's stricken face. "Well, he's not yours anymore - he's right there where you'll never see him again." Natia waved wildly with the gun at the raging flames, and Serenity stepped forward a few paces. The gun swung back instantly, and Natia's eyes refocused on hers over the gleaming barrel. "All mine," she whispered calmly. "All mine, never to be taken away."

Usagi hesitated, unable to attack, knowing only that Natia might still be able to operate the damaged machine. "He'll die in there Natia, please, please let him out before he dies."

Natia drew her lips back in a crazy grin, but the gun barrel didn't move. "Oh, he won't die, pretty queen, he'll just - exist - there forever. Perfect and inviolate. Mine, where only I can reach him." Natia's gaze began to turn back again to the roaring flames, and Usagi dared one step, then another. Natia's eyes returned to her and she smiled at Serenity, long and slow.

"Mine," she dreamily repeated. Then casually, Natia turned the muzzle of the gun around and Usagi had time to draw in one horror-stricken breath before the finger tightened on the trigger. Dazedly, she saw the body crumple behind the slagged console. "Oh god, Mamo-chan," she whimpered and slowly sagged to the ground herself, her mind automatically denying the horror around her, him lost and beyond retrieval.

When Venus found her there she was in a dead faint, long hair pooled around her like blood in the flickering flames.

It seems he fell, although there was no real sensation of movement. The once pallid flames leaped around him, fierce red and sullen orange, inflicting him with a sense of vertigo as they whirled in front of his eyes. His sudden fear and rage were overwhelming, threatening to cloud his mind as the flames blinded his eyes. He had to get back, had to get out of this trap before Natia attacked his beloved Usako. He raged, and the flames leaped higher as if in mocking response, the sun-bright cage a perfect shield over and around him.

He raised his fists and struck out wildly, trying to physically push his way back to the world. Like hissing snakes, the flames curled up and over his wrists and arms, covering his flesh in a carpet of writhing colour. He felt no pain, only the pressure of restraint as the shield wall contained his movements with instant smooth response. His panic peaked and with wild eyes filled with the searing light he struck out again and again, fists coiling and uncoiling with trained speed and desperate intent. Exhaustion stopped him, his heart pounding with sick terror and the strenuous attempt. His blood pounded in his temples but his harsh breathing was lost in the omni-present growl of the fire.

His world hadn't changed in the slightest, the shield wall curling up and over him like a possessive lover, its breath in his ear and filling his eyes with pulsing, hypnotic movement. Swallowing convulsively, he purposely closed his eyes and forced calm on himself, his self discipline kicking in at last. Struggling to breathe in time with his heart, he removed his mind from the sick feeling of helplessness that tasted like wood in his mouth. His thoughts cleared and sharpened in hard, diamond edges of clarity. Her danger rumbled in his blood like a thunderstorm, and he * reached * for the core of his strength, intending to punch his way out with raw power if he had to.

There was nothing, no lightning leaping to his hands in instant response, no flowering of potential across his nerve endings. His eyes flew open with shock and the glimmering light seemed to mock his efforts. He tried again, plunging ethereal fingers into what had been the source of his limitless energy. There was an absence so profound that he reeled with it, as if it had never been, had never filled him with life giving light and power. In a mental anguish so profound it bordered on insanity, Mamoru recklessly opened the soulgates of his power and plunged headlong into the gaping void in his heart, grasping desperately for any trickle of what had once been a raging torrent. Where his earth sense had been was as empty and echoing as the empty stretches between stars, and as mind numbingly cold. He wailed in anguish and loss, and the heart-rending sound was swallowed uncaringly by the consuming, flickering flames.

It was hours before they could convince Usagi to leave the room now brightened by the towering column of flame in the center. In a heart-rendingly small voice she told Venus what had happened and then had lapsed back into apathetic silence. The ginzuishou still shone above her as if she had forgotten it, and its bright light played down mercilessly on her haggard features. She seemed numbed to everything, her mind in a frozen shock that Venus couldn't break through. With bleeding heart, Minako had the princess sedated and went to see to the state of Ami in intensive care in the hospital. With her own mind struggling to comprehend the sudden loss of Endymion and the collapse of Serenity, she clutched at the news that Ami would live, that the healing powers of Mercury were already working on an injury that would have killed another. Venus viciously shoved her own sense of loss firmly behind doors in her mind, and turned her attention to the ones still within her reach to care for. Although she knew that Makoto and Rei would have been aware the instant that Usagi was in danger, she stopped and concentrated, sending along an emphatic pulse to Rei to tell her to get back to the palace as quickly as possible. The body of the young researcher she ordered to be available for autopsy should the need arise. Ami was doing as best as could be expected and with Usagi in sedated shellshock, Minako went back to the temple where everything had gone so disastrously wrong. With a warrior's callousness, she ignored the wash of blood over everything and studied the console with care. Even her unfamiliar gaze saw the extend of the destruction made by the illegal plasma weapon and she bleakly doubted that anything would ever be able to be done with it again. Moving away, she returned to face the dais proper with its contained firestorm, unconsciously mimicking Mamoru's last position.

Concentrating, Venus expanded her mind. She was not as skilled as Rei perhaps, but she was still formidable. Reaching out, she traced her connections to the sleeping Usagi, and from her to the unbreakable bond that held her to Mamoru. The fine cord still existed as it always had, shining silver in her othersight but when she attempted to trace it to Mamoru himself, she hit a wall of flame, a force that resisted any attempts to pierce its secrets. No matter how she tried, it repelled her with ease and finally she was forced to give up the attempt with the beginnings of a serious reaction headache starting between her temples.

In defeat Minako returned to the palace. Usagi was still unconscious and Mina had her examined as well while she couldn't resist, in case anything else had happened that didn't show. When the doctor had finished his private examination, he whispered to Venus his findings and then had left the room, leaving the two senshi alone for the moment. In a different kind of shock, Mina walked to the bedside of her beloved friend and slowly sank into a chair there. Her helpless gaze fell over the features of her fragile queen, still drawn and anguished in her forced repose. Almost unwillingly her gaze travelled down the length of Usagi's body, resting on her flat stomach lifting with the gentle sway of her breathing, a body that still betrayed nothing of the changes taking place. 'Oh Usa-chan,' she thought despairingly, ' what will you do now? And how will I hold you together until Rei can get here and heal your heart? '

Venus lowered her head into her heavy arms and night began to fall on the palace proper.

" You will, Usagi! You will walk down that aisle and you will ascend the double throne if I have to carry you there myself! " Rei was angry and her long hair nearly crackled with the force she was flinging it around with. "You don't have any choice in this!"

Usagi's face was pale but determined, and again she shook her head to indicate her refusal. " I will not Rei-chan. I will continue to refuse until you turn blue in the face and die on the spot. I will not rule without . ." her voice shook for a moment, and then firmed again, " . . without him. Let Minako take the throne, I don't care anymore. She would rule better than I would anyway." Usagi's eyes and voice were bleak and reflected none of the day's brightness visible through the windows.

It was three months since that fateful day when Mamoru had been lost, and each day Usagi died a little more. Now it was all any of them could do to get her to eat, to do anything but stare out the window lost in the darkness of her thoughts. Rei had finally confessed in worried conference the night before with all of them that she couldn't reach the mind of the princess anymore, that all she could get was a roil of guilt and anger, a formless mass of aching loss that defied description. Mina had desperately hoped that Usagi would pull out of this despondency on her own, but Rei's admission of defeat had forced this confrontation. With a renewed sense of determination, Venus joined her voice into the argument.

" You are the Neo Queen Serenity." Usagi's face fell a little farther at Mina's voice and she turned away from them again to face out the window. " I do not want the throne, it is not mine by right, and I will personally help Rei carry you down there if you won't walk. Give it up Usagi-chan ! You can't get any of us to take that burden away from you, and you have to face it ! Each day you delay the empire falls that much farther into confusion. The northern borders are troubled again, and Rei wastes time here trying to mend you when she is needed elsewhere." Mina deliberately couched her phrases to hurt, silently urging Usagi to argue with them, to get angry, to show any sign of returning life.

" The people need a leader, and they have the right to expect that person to be their princess! Mamoru-kun spared you that responsibility while he was here, but he's not here to protect you anymore," Minako continued inexorably. If possible, Usagi's face became paler at the mention of his name, but she didn't turn back to face the room. Mina threw up her hands in disgust and despair at the fixed stoniness on Usagi's profile. Nothing was sinking through it seemed. She looked for help at the tall figure of Jupiter leaning in the corner, but surprisingly it was Ami that spoke up next.

"Usagi-chan." Her soft voice seemed to cut through the rising tensions like a swimmer through swift water. " I will tell you why you will take the throne and learn to rule, why you already know this fight is futile. " Usagi looked up blankly at Ami, and her expression of refusal began to waver into confusion. Ami continued calmly, only the white lines around her mouth showing the strain she endured with all of them as their princess sank slowly towards a self willed death. " You carry in you the next heir to the throne, the one who will be Small Lady. " Almost unwillingly, Usagi's hands drifted to the now unmistakable swell of her belly. " And in order for her to be the next princess, you must be queen. We know this. And we know that Endymion-sama will rule with you, for we have all foreseen it. Remember, we know at least this part of the future. That Neo Queen Serenity and Neo King Endymion rule Crystal Tokyo and that Mamoru-kun cannot rule if he is trapped. Somehow, some way, we will find him again and restore him to you. You know that he lives - we are tied to you and you are soulbound to him - we all can sense his presence that is still connected to you. Do not lose faith ! Live for your daughter and trust that the fates will restore him to us. Believe in yourself Usagi-chan. You can do this ! "

Ami sank back down again, easily exhausted after that devastating head blow and the emotional impact of her speech. Mina looked hopefully at Usagi, and realized after a few moments that something was happening. Usagi's hands were clasped over her unborn daughter and she was rocking a little. Her eyes were still blank but they appeared to be focusing inwards on Ami's words. Her lips moved slightly, and Minako realized that she was trying to reach Mamoru again, calling along the lines of destiny that tied them together. Usagi's shoulders slumped and Mina cried inside at the inherent sadness in that repeated admission of defeat. None of them could reach Mamoru - although they had squandered shocking power resources against the column of living light that held him. Each time they had failed, Usagi had wilted a little more. Eventually she had even stopped going to the chamber of light, preferring instead to sit in her lonely room, ignoring everybody and everything, until the senshi were nearly as haggard as she was with worry for her. Mina waited with baited breath and firmly told herself not to hope too much.

The moments ticked by and Usagi continued to commune with herself. Rei silently walked over to Mina and sat beside her on the low bench, resting her heavy head against her friend's shoulder. With a sharp glance she saw the dark circles under Mars' eyes and knew that she herself probably didn't look much better. Venus hadn't realized herself how much Mamoru had held on his shoulders until she had had to take on that shockingly heavy burden. And now she was forcing her friend to take that tortuous load, when she knew better than anyone that Usagi was woefully less than prepared to accept it. But truthfully, there was no other choice. Venus couldn't hold the hegemony together - only one of royal blood could hope to do that and for each day that passed, that hope grew fainter as the princes and lordlings began to carve up the power between them. Venus leaned her fair head against the darker one on her shoulder and waited for her friend to choose between her death wish or life without the one she lived for.

Finally Usagi's eyes cleared of reverie and she turned to face the inner senshi. Jupiter still leaned in her corner and Usagi saw with painfully clear eyes that the only reason she hadn't fallen down was because she had wedged herself carefully against the stonework. Ami sat on a chair and although the bandages were gone, she could still see the livid red scar on her temple where Natia had struck to kill. On the other wall, Rei had collapsed on Venus' arm, Minako herself seeming to hold together with nerves of twisted steel and a mind that refused to admit defeat. In that flash of insight, Usagi groaned in remorse at what she had done to her closest friends. With a hesitant smile, she opened her arms and they all staggered forward to collapse in her urgent embrace and their tears of relief were like a benediction to her.

" If you really can't live without me, I guess I can't leave you yet," she said hoarsely. As if in response, the child kicked for the first time.

Mamoru drifted in soulshock for a time that could have been hours or aeons. Flames dancing and swirled in his unknowing gaze, his prison reaching insurmountably high overhead. Mesmerized he watched the dancing lights, little flame creatures sporting fancifully in his surreal vision. His sense of earth was a raw, aching void deep in his heart, a gaping maw of darkness where there had only been purest light. For all the years of this lifetime, that light had sustained him, had fed him the strength to defend his planet against threat, had upheld his spirit in the worst of trials. Now there was less than nothing, an absence so profound he could have wept from it.

The tie that had bound him to his planet had never been threatened before. His life, his mind, his memories even had been taken from him, and he had survived. Dimly, he wondered how this could have happened - he was the guardian of this blue planet, it should not have been possible to separate him from the source of his power, from the golden crystal that was both symbol and anchor of his mastery. Jolted from his apathy, Mamoru attempted the smallest of things - to call forth the crystal into his cupped hands, to make it manifest itself as a physical item. For a wild moment he thought he felt it, a shimmer of light behind his eyes and a thread of melody in his ears that came through the hiss of the flames. And then it was gone, so elusive that he thought he had imagined that lightest of touches. The crystal was a part of his physical being, like the colour of his eyes, it should have been impossible that he couldn't even touch it. He felt his soul freezing over again with bleak despair and he lapsed back again into semi-consciousness, flamelight playing over his stark features. Unable to move, unable to summon even the remotest spark of power, he drifted in solitude as a single point of darkness in the conflagration around him.

"Mama?"

Serenity turned and gazed down at her daughter. Small Lady was looking at her feet, her voice seemingly rising in the air from no apparent source since all she could see was a shock of pink hair and hands busily engaged in playing with Luna P's ears. Gently she replied, "Yes, sweetheart?"

"How come Jamis has a daddy and I don't?" said the little girl bluntly. Now she did raise her head and Serenity could see the budding determination on her face. With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair and contemplated how best to describe the indescribable to an eight year old. It was early morning and Serenity had been having a quiet breakfast with her daughter, something she tried very hard not to spoil with matters of state. Intellectually she knew this moment had been brewing for a long time but emotionally she still wasn't really prepared for the dull ache the idea brought.

Letting her mind ruminate on the proper approach, Serenity sipped her hot tea and appreciated the fine beauty of the daughter that was all she had left of him. The directness - that came from her for sure, and the wide eyes as well. The eyebrows, the shape of her exquisite heart face, even her occasional displays of temper - these were Tsukino Usagi all over again as she hadn't been for years. Nothing seemed at first glance to be anything but the birthright of Serenity and the indefinable something that made Small Lady an individual, complete in herself.

It was the look in the child's eyes that reminded Serenity most of who she had lost - the solemn, wounded expression deep in the gaze that told her this was truly her beloved's child. Mamoru had carried deep, unseen scars on his soul from two lifetimes of nearly unrelieved duty and pain. No one knew the depths of emotion that had ruled his soul - more sensitive than any could have guessed - save her. It was part of her burden and her joy that no one else knew the doubts and desperations that he had whispered to her in the nights, the easing of his soul in her arms and body, safety and assurance in her love. On a day filled with sunshine cruel as knives and heavy as sand, he had called with a voice as cold as iron for Venus to kill - and only she knew the unashamed tears he had cried into her hair for the nights after. And now his daughter faced her over another sunlit place with hands about to tear apart her comfort toy and Serenity had to find words to explain why he was not here.

"Small Lady," she started slowly, trying to find her way through the minefield of words, "do you remember when Alis cried because her mama was hurt and in the hospital for so long?"

The little girl's hands still momentarily and a small, hesitant nod was her answer. "I remember mama, I remember Alis was really sad for a long time." Small Lady thought a moment but then said accusingly, "But her mama came home after a while, and I still don't have a daddy!" Her little mouth trembled but then firmed into defiant mutiny. Serenity tried hard not to laugh even through the ache in her heart, and hid her mouth behind another swallow of tea.

"Your father's name is Chiba Mamoru, which means Protector of Earth," she told her pouting daughter. "We were in love for many years, he and I, and we made you to be our daughter. He would have loved you very much but . . . well, something bad happened and he was . . lost, very far away from here." Well, that's one way to say it, she thought to herself wryly.

"But is he ever going to come back mama, you know, so I can have a daddy too, just like Jamis?" Small Lady's expression was hopeful as she peeked out from long lashes. "He could take me to the lake, and to the park to climb trees, and even," she said with a wistful look, "read me stories in bed?"

Serenity's heart thumped painfully and she wondered how much truth was the right amount to say, how much a child could understand of the complexities of the adult world. She opted for as much truth as she herself could bear to say. "I'm sure that one day you will have a daddy too, and that he will love you even more than I do. But," she said gently as she saw the growing joy in her daughter's eyes, "it could be a long time. A very long time. He was lost so far from here it could take all the time until you grow up before he can find his way back."

"Grown up?" she squeaked breathlessly, clutching the mangled Luna P tightly. "All the time until I'm grown up?"

Serenity nodded slowly and let her daughter try to assimilate that cautionary word. She hurt for telling her daughter this particular truth, for letting her know that some things nobody could fix. She tried to take cold comfort from the knowledge that bleak as it was, it was still a truth she believed in every day of her life. One day he would return and one day she would see his beloved face again in truth instead of in the reflection of his daughter.

"You promise mama, you promise that even if it takes until I'm grown up, my very own daddy will come back?" she insisted of her mother.

"I promise Small Lady, I will swear it upon the Illusion Silver Crystal that one day your father will find his way back to be here with us," she said firmly, seeking to give an assurance that even her daughter could not doubt. It seemed to work as her eyes got really large at the mention of the legendary power of her mother's, but it seemed to satisfy her and the meal progressed without anymore undue bumps to Serenity's peace of mind. She might have been a little less calm if she could have read her daughter's mind that day.

Throughout the day, Small Lady turned the problem over in her head. It was obvious, once you knew that you might have to wait a long time for something. She didn't know how long it took to grow up, but it sounded like it could be a while. "If I'm all grown up," she whispered to Luna P quietly, "he might not recognize me. He might think some other little girl is his daughter and he might want to be with her instead of me. Well, he'll be MY daddy and I have to make sure he knows who I am." Small Lady tried to figure out how to make sure somebody she'd never seen would recognize her as his daughter and not mistake her for somebody else.

It was night before she figured out the obvious solution. Happy at her new thought, she hugged Luna P tightly to her chest as she snuggled down into the covers. "I know what I'll do!" she crowed happily. "I'll just never grow up! That way, I'll always be a little girl, and he'll know who I am. That was pretty smart of me, don't you think?"

Luna P beeped at her in what she assumed was agreement. Small Lady smiled happily and settled down for sleep. "That's it," she thought warmly as she drifted off, " I'll just never grow up and he'll have no trouble finding me when he comes looking."

It seems he drifted like a forsaken child, an abandoned doll. At times it almost seemed his prisoning walls comforted him, supported him in his overwhelming despair. Times untold he checked the soulgate, peering within to find the absence as chill and bleak as before. The flames writhed and swirled in his desolate gaze, at times resembling dancers or storm-tossed trees. He imagined he saw whole armies marching to battle, heroes on horses that dissolved into falling cascades of brilliant butterflies. He hung suspended in flameflowers and dreamed he had been a man.

How long he stayed in that suspended animation he could not after say with anything approaching certainty. Slowly, the flicker of his unconquerable spirit began to rise again, and he roused from the stupor he had fallen into. Unflinching, he once again opened the pathway to his power and felt the chill of that intimate loss reaching out to him. With a callousness that had a border of self-destruction to it, he slipped deliberately into that void, drawing it over his head like a sea of black water, a whirlpool of loss that matched in intensity the firestorm that raged outside his mind. With singleminded focus he began to reweave that darkness into the framework of his psyche. With endless tenacity he followed the absences where they lead; myriad branching pathways leading from the main core of his lost power. He traced each minute pathway, each slippery connection a reminder of the vibrant power that had once poured through it. With delicate touch and intent of steel, each cord began to rework itself. Dimly he began to realize that he traced a web of power conduits that ran through his body like a tissue overlay of his blood.

As he slowly assimilated and absorbed the knowledge contained in these empty corridors, he realized how extensive the network was and how instinctive his reactions had been to it. It had always served his needs and he had never needed to question its workings before. As the pattern became clearer and more complete in his mind's eye, he marvelled silently at its complexity. His power did not spring into simple life when he needed it, as he had always assumed it did, a miracle granted to him by being born the guardian of this planet. He traced all the minute connections back to their origin, where the great strength of the golden crystal had rested. The core was bare and empty, a shimmering curtain of flame seeming to stretch endlessly across the place where his power should have been, just as the flame wall trapped his body in this nowhere place. He dared not approach that greater strength yet, and he retreated back into the smaller branches and lost himself in exploring their enchanting lacework patterns.

As he discovered the way and reaches of his absent power, a flickering from the world of his consciousness gradually filtered through his awareness. Like a diver, he swarmed up through the darkness in his soul to full consciousness in his body. Looking around, he realized that the flamelight was shifting in front of him - fingers of agitation curled and spasmed in front of his startled gaze. In a reflexive action he tried to summon power to build a shield of protection, knowing the futility of his cause. He * felt * the newly discovered pathways flexing to channel an energy that wasn't there, something he had never been aware of before. And in a different awareness, he realized with a growing excitement that the light in front of him was wavering in a locked rhythm to the beat of his opening channels. The movement was small but unmistakable. Somehow, the shield energy was reacting to him and his unfilled, open channels. He experimented a little, his scientific mind making cold calculations. It definitely was responding - perhaps if his channels were void of power, the flame wall was drawn to try and fill the emptiness. Coldly, he decided that the makers of this trap may never have expected it to contain someone versed in the uses of power channels. And he had all the time in the world to make this discovery work to his eventual benefit.

He went back to his frustrating, elusive efforts. With conscious effort this time, he traced his entire power network, leaving only the guarded central core of himself untouched. Like muscles trained with repeated test his control grew stronger and more conscious. With each mental effort he was rewarded as his channels began to open and close in a demanding rhythm. It was heartbreakingly slow; at first only the smallest of pathways responded. He continued doggedly, not knowing what else he could do and resting only when the mental strain grew too great to bear. Soon larger conduits were responding and then the smaller nexus points where pathways joined to each other. He trained himself to open them wider and wider, struggling to affect the shield wall. When the nexus points began to react, the pulsing of the flames was obvious and he exulted that he was on the right track. It was as if the emptiness of his channels were drawing on the nearness of the shield energy, attempting to draw its power along the pathways. He allowed himself the hope that if enough pressure could be built up inside his channels, enough force of energy, he might be able to burst apart the shield wall and free himself.

In the deserted temple, the flame on the altar began to pulse with a steady regularity, faint but noticeable in the shifting complexities of fire. Crystal roses in urns around the chamber reflected the pattern of light over the walls, making the room like a living altar to a fire god.

Neo Queen Serenity smiled remotely at the courtiers she passed in the hallway, leaving her body on autopilot as it greeted people on her behalf as she continued along her way. With measured tread she paced the great length of her chosen route, and eventually gained the outside. Breathing with careful control, she continued to walk with steady pace, winding her way along the paths to the house she visited every year on the anniversary day when her heart had died. In her hand she carried one long stemmed crystal rose, carefully crafted for her by the best artisans the empire could employ.

The walk did her good, freed at least temporarily from the dull matters of state. With a pang she saw the beautiful flowers of spring surrounding her, fresh fragrances mingling in the crisp air. She remembered again that last promise and the look in his eyes when he had said for her ears alone that he loved flowers in her hair. Stooping, she picked a pretty little orange one and with a wistful smile tucked it behind her ear. The long rolling land of the palace grounds flowed all around her, more formal structured gardens within her gaze should she choose to visit their calming confines. Yet her feet followed where her heart insisted she had to go, and eventually she looked down into that hauntingly familiar depression. For a moment her eyes insisted she still saw the bare earth that had been there that day instead of the carefully tended lawn that existed now.

With a heart nearly inured to the sight of it, she walked down and forward to the main entrance, sealed as was proper for a tomb. Only she and Ami remembered the sequence that opened the great door and she preferred it that way - it kept the curious and the disrespectful away. Spring sunshine over her shoulder, she traced the opening pattern and the doors swung open as they always had, mysterious machinery still working as it must have done for millenia. She stepped out of the growing warmth of spring into the coolness of his burial chamber.

The column of flame was undiminished, as bright and vivid as the day he had been stolen away from her. With heavy heart Usagi paced forward with measured stride to place the crystal rose with the rest that she had created for him. Absently she noted the profusion that surrounded the dais, one for each year that she came here, and noted absently that she really should get some more urns to place them into. Her face was calm as she looked into the swirling flames, only her eyes betrayed the bone deep sorrow that still existed there - the mourning that she only showed here, where only he could see it.

She let her thoughts drift with the flames - all her words had long since been said and all her tears had been cried, so many years that she had almost forgotten what it had felt like to have him at her side, to turn and to see him there with that look in his eyes that was meant for her alone. Only her faith still remained unshakeable, that Ami had to have been right those many years ago when she had said that he had to return - that someday she would be complete again. With a sigh, she let her gaze wander over the flames, idly wondering if she looked hard enough if she might see his face in them. Let the lordlings and petty kings maneuver for position, dreaming of the empty seat of the double throne and her hand in marriage. She knew, as the senshi knew but would not mention in front of her, that only one man could sit there beside her. Each year the jockeying for power became fiercer and each year she cared less about it. Only Small Lady could make her laugh anymore with anything approaching joy. She took comfort in her friends, and ruled Crystal Tokyo with gentleness and a firm touch - but her heart was frozen in stasis in a day that was nearly four hundred years gone.

Serenity knew the common gossip that said that this little place was a burial chamber for her lost love, that she came here in remembrance each year on the day he had died. One rumour had said he was a rogue, a pirate that had stolen her heart and been executed by the palace guard on her orders. Another had disagreed, saying that he was her betrothed husband before being cut down by an assassin of a rival lord. Others had affirmed that he had been a peasant lad that she had loved in her youth and had been forbidden to marry. Serenity had ignored them all and continued to bring her roses, hoping against hope that she would open the door and find him standing there, with blue eyes that contained all of her sky in them. And each year that hope became a little more faded with time, until it had etched a soft groove in her heart that really didn't hurt all that much anymore when he never answered her silent calling. He still lived behind his prisoning walls, she could feel it, but she knew no more than that. No call she made was ever answered.

She stayed a little longer, watching the pulsing, hypnotic flames that seemed to beat in time to her heart, and then she returned the way she came. The door closed softly behind her, and the flames were softly mirrored again by the walls that contained them, their steady cadence a comforting rhythm in the room.

He laboured and his control became more and more sure. As each pathway opened, his mind's eye saw the framework filled with the essence of his life spirit. He stretched himself to greater and greater capacity, until finally only the great nexus remained untapped, its great void as daunting as before. The shield around him was now anchored to his heartbeat, flexing inexorably to his imposed rhythm. As he opened himself on each pulse, he felt the wild rush of his soul essence streak out, spreading the pathways to their maximum carrying capacity and creating pressure on the inside of the shield wall. He held it as long as he dared and then reversed its direction, drawing the energy back down and away, incidentally causing his prison flex in the other direction as it yearned to follow in the open pathways. He held this demanding rhythm for long moments, testing his control and nerves. Then, with a sense of fatalism, he reached for the final, core nexus.

It seemed that he floated again in a vast sea of darkness and loss. Inside, he could see branches that lead away and a braided cord of silver, gold and deepest black that plunged into the blocking flame wall across his soul. When he touched the gold one with ethereal, spirit hands, he heard an echo of faint power and a sense of earth that was so faint he hardly recognized it. The black he knew was himself, despair and loneliness forged into a physical presence. But when he touched the silver, it vibrated like a small bell and it sang softly of Usako. He wrapped grateful hands around it and realized that she still lived somehow, that wherever she was, she was safe. His joy was like a heady draught of brandy to his senses and with reckless abandon, he filled the nexus with his awareness and forced it to respond to his wishes. When the great nexus began to beat in controlled time, his mind sang with crystal clarity of purpose. His eyes opened for the first time in aeons and he began to deliberately force the pace.

The flames fluctuated wildly around him and he forced his abused channels to straining point time and time again, watching with cold calculation for the moment when the pressure would become too great and it would break outwards. In a physical mimicry of what he was trying to do, his arms and legs spread wide and with unastonished eyes, Mamoru saw the silver pulse of his power channels overlaid on his skin. He knew without thinking that this was unheard of. He knew that Rei could see the power networks, and could even trace the connections that bound them all together, but he doubted she could have remotely conceived of the control that had every conduits down to the smallest of branches flexing in perfect time and under total conscious control. His world narrowed to steadily increasing beat, and he knew in cold blood that this solution would either kill or free him. With grim determination, he set out to do either.

Finally, his will straining to the bursting point, he felt the shield wall start to give a little. The web of his power blazed with a silver light that rivalled the golden flames around him and he felt the wall crumbling. His heart exulted and he * pushed * with all his might.

And then with an unbelievable, unforeseen movement, the shield wall twisted against the pressure and did something he could never have expected - it turned and struck back at him like a coiled serpent might strike, with deadly force and ferocious intent. His pathways were opened to their maximum and Mamoru knew in that instant of disaster that to close them would destroy him instantly as the power would backlash against his physical body, annihilating him. In that same instant, he knew the shield was broken entire, his earth power surging back again through the reestablished connection. He chose to fight instead, and he retreated back along his channels, the roaring flames flashing after him. He struggled to absorb that overwhelming energy desperately, healing himself again and again as it tried to destroy him from the inside out. He realized in a moment of no time that he couldn't contain it, that he would reach the core nexus before enough energy had dissipated and that it would roar into his final sanctuary and blow it apart in a maelstrom of fire. He had no power reserve to fight it off, to hold it to a standstill long enough to dissipate the energy harmlessly. Still he fought, unable now to give up, absorbing vast amounts of energy that he threw away as fast as he got a hold of it, still burning himself with every tortuous moment.

In the chamber where nobody was watching, the pulsing, towering flames burst outwards, crystal roses flying everywhere as a disruption wave shocked through the air. The flames whirled upwards as if drawn by a cyclone, and then suddenly turning in a vicious movement downwards again. In the middle of the broken wall, a form of a man could be seen with arms and legs flung wide and neck outstretched in a soundless scream. Golden flames poured from the figure, his eyes twin beacons of light. Sentient fire swirled around the figure, hiding and revealing him like a shifting cloak of fog. Crystal shards lay like a carpet of diamonds.

Mamoru fought and knew he was losing. Too soon he reached the core nexus and he despaired, knowing that too much overload remained - that as strong as he had become in power manipulation, stronger perhaps than anyone ever had been, it would not be enough for this conflagration. With a final supreme effort, he grabbed the remnants of his power and fled deeper inside himself, letting the flames begin to consume his physical body as he sought to protect himself. He knew that he only delayed the inevitable but he retreated through the nexus. Finally he stood in the core of himself and turned to die. With incorporeal hands he grasped the braided cord that was his soul and lifted its essence into himself, the remains of his earth power covering him like a tattered cloak. As the ravenous flame roared towards him, he lifted his hands and opened his fingers so that the light shone through like an offering. "Guard her for me," he said simply.

The flames struck him and he screamed in a cascade of blinding pain. Dying, he curled himself around the light in his hands and tried futilely to protect it from the final blast. Broken he lay there like a discarded doll, streaming flames flickering over and around him. Faster and faster they whirled until they joined into one entity, a thing with golden scales, eyes of sun bright intensity and cold red talons. One eye dipped down as the being cocked its head at the dying man.

"What do I guard her for?" it asked, it's voice like sweetened smoke. Mamoru had no fear anymore, no curiosity at this sudden, sentient being in the heart of what he assumed was cold machine. held up his final light in wavering hands, a small globe no larger than his fist.

"Guard her for memory of my love," he whispered. The globe brightened and softly an image of his Usako came clear. She was asleep, her hair tumbled around her shoulders in an artless grace she never possessed when awake, lashes a sooty smudge against rose cheeks in the pale dawnlight. He had watched her sleep thus so many mornings, his love an irresistible surge of ocean for the moon. As his life faded, he entreated again helplessly, "Protect her."

The beast whirled in front of him, breaking into individual flames again. It sounded like they were talking to each other, each dervish raising a voice of fire into the roar. Then just as quickly, they merged again, this time into the shape of a young man. With a numb shock he realized that he looked into his own face, as if he had been the one to turn to flame. His sight started to dim as his body reached its limits and died; he looked into eyes that were still bright as sunlight as the other's face dropped down to his. Hands reached out and cradled his face; a kiss of surpassing sweetness brushed against his lips. "Guard her yourself," breathed that honeyed voice.

For an instant, Mamoru despaired utterly and his life began to gutter out. The mock-Mamoru melted again, and a small salamander ran on red feet to the small globe he still held tight. With unhesitating accuracy it plunged into the light that was the very soul of Mamoru and melded instantly with his power. The firestorm exploded outwards now, sealed with the earth power that was his by birthright. The healing flooded through his channels and into his body, mending the damage caused by the last few moments of agony. He breathed normally, a great gulp of air untinged with exquisite pain. With an ease that would have astonished anyone else, he tapped his core and contemplated the inviolate globe that held the core of his soul. In his mind's eye she still slept, daylight streaking over her beloved face. A small lizard slept on her pillow. One bright eye opened and looked at him with amusement, then contentedly closed. Dazed, he looked around.

Sunlight drifted down lazily through motes of diamond dust. The interior of the room was dark, the only light was coming in from the crazily twisted doors ahead of him. He drew one breath, then another, marvelling at the absence of pain. In a daze, he stepped down from the dais, automatically looking around for Usako where she had last stood. There was nothing, only the crunching of glass under his feet. He looked down but could make nothing of it, the light not reaching that far into the room. Gingerly, he walked towards the light. With each step, his body sang with power and he could feel the earth singing its song of possession in his soul, a thread of melody he had always heard but had never understood before. Tenderly he touched the silver light that was Usagi and revealed in the feeling of love that poured out of that fragile connection.

As he walked closer to the light, he saw with some amazement that the doors hung on crazily twisted hinges, one of them having been blown off entirely. Looking down near the entrance he saw something that wasn't just glass shards, and carefully he picked up an object that looked to have survived somewhat intact the destruction that had levelled everything else in the room. As his hand closed around it, an image shocked through his mind in crystal clarity.

Usagi knelt, a crystal rose in her hand and tears poured down her beloved face. Her sorrow was unmistakable and the tears fell from her eyes onto the fashioned rose she held. She was unchanged in form, but somehow older, a look of self possession still in her eyes that he hadn't seen before even through her grief. The image faded, and Mamoru was left shaken in the hazy light as he stood in the doorway. He passed a slow hand over his eyes and he walked through the wreckage into the daylight.

The sunlight shone down indiscriminately over the landscape. He knew that time must have passed while he was trapped in his nightmare, but this - this was beyond comprehension. The depression where the temple stood was carpeted in thick, soft grass where there had been only bare earth. He passed the large piece of door that had been blown away and walked steadily up the incline. At the top he halted again, his blue eyes startled.

Under his stunned gaze, the details began to pick themselves out of the horrifying whole. The palace seemed complete in every respect, its towers and walls scintillating in the sunshine. The gardens spread out lushly, at this distance a hazy green interspersed with patches of darker shade. But the object the drew his anguished gaze were the trees. Hours ago, when he had entered the room that had become his prison, the saplings had lined the walk where he and Usagi had held hands. Now towering oaks had impossibly mushroomed, growing into stately old age with large canopies shading the walk underneath their spreading branches. He walked slowly away from the temple, his mind blank with the horrid realization of the passing of ages. Eventually there was no where left to climb, and Mamoru sank down on the small hill and looked over the beauty that was Crystal Tokyo, as he had always imagined it would be.

part two >>>

SAILORMOON STORIES ± WRITING MAIN

relativity

part one

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