Prologue |
Chapter One |
Chapter Two |
Chapter Three |
Chapter Four |
Chapter Five |
Chapter Six |
Chapter Seven |
Chapter Eight |
Chapter Nine |
Chapter Ten |
Chapter Eleven |
Chapter Twelve |
Chapter Thirteen |
Chapter Fourteen |
Chapter Fifteen |
Chapter Sixteen |
Epilogue
There was darkness. It was absolute and it was everywhere. It was the utter blackness that sucked at the eye, seeming to take away everything, even the contents of one's own mind. It spread in all directions, without limits or barriers, without beginning or end. Only in one place was it challenged. Far off in the distance, there was light. It shone brightly and defiantly, a pure white glow where none had any right to be. Its source was small, but its rays stretched out far into the eternal night, a beacon for any who might be lost there. The darkness fought against the light, attempting to suffocate it through sheer oppressive presence, but the glow refused to be extinguished. On the other side of nowhere, Endymion struggled toward the light. He waded through the darkness as if it were water, and with every step the shadows grew thicker until it was as if he were swimming through tar. He fought against it, gaining ground bit by bit, ignoring his growing weariness. His eyes were fixed on the light, starving for it, clinging to it as if it could pull him from this quicksand. He could almost make out its source now, could almost see the flowing white dress and streaming crystalline hair within the dazzling glow... Another light was trying to get his attention. Off to one side, a golden glow was shining, dancing in the shadows as it tried to catch Endymion's eye. He ignored it as he always did, focusing all his efforts on striving toward his goal. Silver always shone brighter than gold. His Serenity was there, waiting for him, calling to him with her light. Endymion would get to her. If he just kept trying, he would reach her. He would not allow anything to distract him. Something strange was happening. After so many repetitive struggles, the darkness was a familiar adversary, but there were creatures within it now, living things that writhed and clutched at him. The unseen forces clung to Endymion's arms and legs, pulling at him, weighing him down until he feared he would be lost to the darkness. He focused on the white light ahead of him and struggled on, concentrating on taking one heavy step after another. Bit by bit, he drew closer to his shining angel. Not even the creatures of the shadows would stop him. Endymion was near enough now to see Serenity was holding out her arms to him. The grasping hands were growing weaker as the Earth man got closer to the light, but so was Endymion. His arms and legs felt as if marble blocks were attached to them, and they ached with the strain of fighting the heavy darkness and its minions. Every staggered step was an overwhelming effort, and although Endymion tried his best to focus on Serenity's shine, his eyes were growing dim. The shadows were beginning to rise up in front of him and when he tried to lift his right leg for one more stride it would not budge. The exhausted man dropped to his knees, unable to fight it any longer. The white light had shrunk to nothing more than a faint glow. It was hopeless. Suddenly, the bold cry of a horse rent the air. A brilliant golden glow tore apart the darkness in front of Endymion and a new shine appeared in the form of white wings on a snowy stallion. It reared and tossed its head as if slashing at the shadows with the golden horn that adorned its forehead. Its great feathery wings beat the air, driving the darkness back. The shine of its horn was a nearly blinding brilliance. It seemed to be everywhere, like sunshine cutting through the dead of night. Endymion felt a strange warmth growing within his chest. He looked down, and his heart seemed to be answering the winged horse with a shine of its own, a golden light in his chest sparkling just as brightly as the beast's horn. There was a shriek that seemed to come from everywhere. The invisible creatures of the shadows released their hold on Endymion and fell away, driven back by the golden light. He was free to get to his feet, but the darkness was still all around him, a void of nothingness. The shining winged horse came closer, its glow pushing the darkness away. It focused on Endymion with intelligent amber eyes. The familiarity of that face registered with a shock. It was the same mysterious entity that had spoken to Endymion in his dream when he first arrived on Earth. The shadows were growing thicker, closing in. The dark-haired man leapt forward and swung himself onto the horse's back, wrapping his arms securely around its neck. The great beast reared again, but not in an attempt to throw Endymion off. Its snowy wings pounded the air and, with a cry of defiance, it broke contact with the ground and climbed upward. The shadows pulled at its legs and fought against its wings, but stroke by stroke the horse rose higher. Soon the darkness was no longer absolute but tainted by a faint glow. "Serenity!" Endymion cried, suddenly remembering. He twisted around on the beast's back and searched the darkness below, but there was no trace of the white light. Be still! The commanding voice sounded directly within Endymion's brain. Out of shock, he straightened up and got a firm grip on the horse's mane. You will never reach her in this place, the voice continued, more gently. I apologize for the intrusion, but I cannot speak aloud when I am in this form. Now the Earth man connected the mysterious voice with the amber-eyed entity. It was more hollow than it had been the first time they met, and it echoed slightly within his mind, but the tone was the same. "Who are you?" Endymion asked hesitantly, looking down at the great beast. Its wings were still steadily beating the air, carrying it and its rider upward in a series of leaps and bounds. There was light now, and they were surrounded by the pale blue of a boundless sky. The horse's golden horn flashed brightly as if kissed by an invisible sun. There was a long pause. For a moment, Endymion feared he had broken the connection they shared by speaking. I cannot tell you now, the beast finally answered, and there was a regretful edge to its communication. I am sorry. There is much you should know, and there is no longer time to share it with you. I tried to reach you often in your dreams, but you had eyes only for her. Serenity. Thinking back, Endymion remembered seeing the flash of the winged horse's horn often as he struggled through the empty darkness, but he had always ignored it in favor of his beloved's white light. He glared down at his mount's snowy mane, suddenly angry at himself. That bond was broken, that romance was over, and still he could not let Serenity go. Now he sensed he was on the verge of a revelation greater than anything he had ever imagined, and due to his love for the Moon Princess, the answers would not be revealed to him. The relationship he had hoped would free him had only been a different prison. Do not blame your love, the horse admonished him. Endymion was startled out of his thoughts. Could the beast read his mind as well? I was willing to wait for you to come to me, but I fear you and I have run out of time. "Those things in the shadows," Endymion recalled aloud. He shuddered at the memory of unseen hands grasping at him, pulling him down into the inescapable darkness. He had dreamed often of struggling through that eternal night, but those creatures had never been there before. The white horse tossed its head in an equine nod. Yes. A dark force is at work on Earth. The light of your love held it at bay, but it has enslaved most of the planet, and if not for my aid I fear you would have been lost to it as well. It must not claim you, Endymion. The exiled stable hand shivered at the sound of his true name. He had told no one his real identity since his arrival on Earth. "How do you know that name?" he demanded. I knew you before you were born. The great head turned, and one amber eye rolled upward to look at the bewildered young man. The look in this eye was far from animal. It spoke of mysterious power, endless wisdom, and words that longed to be said. "Will you not tell me who you are?" Endymion pleaded. "I beg you, tell me something, anything! What do my strange dreams mean? Why do I suddenly have powers unlike anyone else's? Who am I? What am I?" All the answers were there in that bright eye, everything he ever wanted to know and much more. The beast turned away, refocusing its sight on its unseen goal. Those answers would only bring more questions, and there is no time for that now, it said resolutely. Ahead there was a light, a glow that spread and grew larger with every beat of the horse's wings. They galloped through the fading sky with ever-increasing speed, and Endymion began to feel a strange disorientation creeping over him. Listen, please listen. The faint echoes of the voice in Endymion's head were growing stronger as the world began to fade to white around him. As long as you are free, the Golden Kingdom may rise again. The darkness must not catch you, or all hope is lost. You must leave this city, Endymion. I will protect your mind, but you must hide your body where the war will not find you. When the crisis has passed, I will tell you everything. I swear it. The light was everywhere, blotting out what little there was to see. Endymion could no longer feel the horse's body under him or the softness of its mane beneath his fingers. In fact, he could no longer feel his fingers at all. There was still the rustling of beating wings, but he could not feel the wind on his face. We cannot stop this, but the world may yet survive. Protect yourself, with that hope. The beast's voice was growing faint within his mind, fading out like a dream. You are more than your life has made you, Endymion. Endymion's eyes popped open. He bolted upright in his bed and sat there a moment, blinking, struggling to pull his confused mind together. A dream, only a dream. Just another dream...but it had been so different from all the others... Outside there were voices, shouts, and dozens of running feet pounding the pavement. Endymion whisked his blanket aside, jumped out of bed and hurried toward the window. He had fallen asleep in his clothes again; he'd worked the late shift the previous night and had arrived home too exhausted to do more than fall into bed. He felt as if he had slept forever, but the sky was strangely dark. What time was it? Endymion reached the windowsill and looked out on a world gone mad. People were everywhere, filling the streets, running here and there in a chaotic throng. Some of them looked frightened, but for the most part, this mob was angry. A disturbing many were carrying weapons. Men, women, and children were down there, old and young alike, either rushing along with the crowd or being forced along by it. A cold chill sickened Endymion's stomach as he surveyed the chaos consuming the city. The frustration in the Golden Kingdom had finally reached the boiling point. A full revolution had broken out. The exiled man raised his dark eyes and they widened in growing horror. Several buildings had been set afire. Endymion recognized the closest as a government center and a guard house. They burned brightly against the dark sky, casting the flickering red and orange glow of anarchy over the rioting citizens they had once served. The firelight was eerily brighter than it had any right to be at this hour. It was indeed early afternoon, but the sky was as dark as evening. It seemed to have grown darker in the mere few minutes Endymion had been watching. It appeared the darkness that had sprung from the north had spread over the entire city, and it filled the air with thick clouds no light could penetrate. The sun was shining bravely in the northwest, but as Endymion watched, the clouds grew visibly thicker until it was blotted out. The distant burning buildings and the torches several citizens were carrying became the only light. Endymion couldn't believe his eyes. The northern darkness had been growing, but just yesterday it was still quite far off. How had it spread so far so fast? Something was moving in the sinister clouds. Lumps of dark mist shifted and bulged, the billows rolling rapidly although there was no wind. Suddenly the clouds seemed to rip apart, several gashes splitting open and glowing a blood-chilling dark red. It was a face. It smiled. Endymion leapt back from the window and toppled backward onto the floor, scrambling away from the terrifying sight as fast as his arms and legs could carry him. The darkness was alive! What evil was this, that the world turned black and the skies themselves became the domain of monsters? What was that horrible thing? On the streets outside, there were a few scattered screams, but the cry of fear was not taken up by the majority. Instead, it was drowned out by cheers. Hundreds of voices raised a whoop of elation, calling out their support of the creature of darkness hanging over them. The sound chilled Endymion more than the sight of the thing's sinister red face. Something was dreadfully wrong here. No matter how disgruntled the citizens of the Golden Kingdom were, no living thing should have been able to look upon that storm of evil and not be afraid. Endymion's nighttime visitor had been right. Whatever the creature was, it had the power to bend the people of Earth to its will, to blind them to the horrible reality. You must leave this city. The winged horse's plea struck Endymion's memory like a hot blade, and he jumped to his feet to do just that. He did not know who or what the horse really was, but it was certainly not in league with the demon in the clouds. The frightened man was ready to trust anyone who opposed that evil thing. The beast had said there was hope if Endymion survived. He could not imagine why he was so important, but perhaps the white horse had a plan, some method of saving the people of Earth that the former stable hand could help with in some way. Perhaps it was gathering an army somewhere... Endymion paused in the act of collecting the few necessities he had at hand. His fingers hovered over the golden surface of the star-shaped locket sitting on his windowsill. The world it represented seemed an eternity away. Only a few weeks ago he had been a happy, productive citizen of the Moon, and now he was on another planet, about to flee a city on the verge of destruction. The locket symbolized a society he no longer embraced and a love he no longer possessed. Should he leave it behind as part of the ashes of his former life? Endymion started to turn away, but his feet refused to take a single step. After a moment of internal struggle, he was forced to concede. His love for Princess Serenity was still a part of him, no matter how much he wished it were otherwise. The memory of the Moon Princess would always be with him. It would be wrong to abandon the relics of the happy times they had shared. Despite all he had suffered, Endymion still did not regret his love. The gold star locket went into his pocket, and he took a deep breath of the ancient rose's everlasting fragrance before pinning it securely to the inside of his thin coat. He snatched up a small loaf of bread that was to have been his breakfast, picked up his sword, and hurried out the door, leaving yet another life behind him. The chaos was even more overwhelming at street level than it was from above. People were running here and there, calling out to others to join them as they waved whatever weapons they had been able to get their hands on. From merchant to beggar, they mingled in a growing unified mob. There were even fewer citizens who looked properly frightened now, and most of those were being guided along by encouraging warmongers. Gathering his courage, Endymion looked up at the sky. The horrible red face was gone, but he knew it was still up there, watching the proceedings from the churning clouds. "Come, brother, why do you hesitate?" Endymion tore his eyes away from the heavens. A young man with wild brown hair was standing at the bottom of the boarding house steps, looking up at him with an enthusiastic grin. Endymion did not know this man, but he had seen him on occasion in the pub he frequented, and was hard-pressed to admit this was the same person. He vaguely remembered a quiet, solemn man who mostly kept to himself, friendly when spoken to but largely a subdued loner. The person at the base of the staircase was loud and filled with spirit, and there was a disturbingly wild look in his eyes. If it weren't for the distinctive scar on one cheek, Endymion would not have recognized him. "Today is the day!" the brown-haired man proclaimed, waving a rusty spear in the air. "We'll no longer cringe beneath the boots of the other worlds, my brother! Today is a day for celebration! Today the Moon, tomorrow the universe!" "The Moon?" Endymion's blood ran cold. He stumbled down the few steps, clinging to the railing for support. "Fear not, brother!" The exuberant man seized Endymion by the arm and steadied him. His grip was surprisingly strong, even for a hardened laborer. "We have been joined by a power greater than Selene! Our victory is guaranteed! We will obtain that which grants wishes and become immortal gods! The Silver Crystal!" Now Endymion stared incredulously at the man, who had not released his hold on the former stable hand's arm. How did an Earth-dwelling human know of the Silver Crystal? Endymion had thought this revolution was meant merely to preserve the integrity of the Earth, but this man was speaking of war against the entire Silver Alliance. Was the evil force in the sky bending using the people of the planet to pursue its own unholy goals? "Nothing can defeat Queen Serenity," Endymion found himself saying. As he said the words, he fervently hoped they were true. Although he was no longer a citizen of the Moon, Endymion had left friends there. He did not want to imagine Miss Amaris and Prien being forced to rise up against the ruler they loved. Surely the Silver Crystal was stronger than any force of evil. "I see you have not yet witnessed the power of our new ally!" The brown-haired man clapped his free arm around Endymion's shoulders and led him firmly down the street, keeping to the edge of the frenzied throng. "Nothing is beyond the strength of Metalia!" The sound of that name set clamps of ice around Endymion's heart, but he walked on numbly, both frightened and curious. "Metalia has returned our Prince to us, and has given us a proper Queen to lead our revolution! The Earth Prince was back in the Golden Kingdom? For a moment, Endymion wondered at the fate of the Prince's fiance, but all thoughts were driven from his mind when he saw where they were headed. Down the street from the boarding house, one of the monoliths Endymion had seen on the beach had sprouted right through the paving stones. It was more than twice his height and as utterly black as the darkness that filled his dreams. The edges of the stone were jagged and irregular, and there was something inexplicably sinister about its inert form. As Endymion drew nearer to it, a deep ache began to throb in his bones. Ahead of him, a struggling woman was being forced into the shadow of the monstrous spire. She was terrified and fought the enthusiastic masses, but before long they overpowered her and pressed her hands against the surface of the black stone. The change was immediate. After only an instant of contact, the woman went limp in the arms of the crowd. When they helped her to stand again, she had become bold, resolute, and angry. She cheered along with her fellow revolutionaries, and when one of them pressed a knife into her hand, she immediately joined the exodus toward the palace. "Just touch one of Metalia's monuments," the man beside Endymion said encouragingly, "and all will be made clear." Endymion swung his sword around and struck his guide across the stomach with the flat of the blade. The man grunted and bent double, loosening his hold on the former stable hand. Endymion twisted out of his grip and took off running, dodging the half-dozen brainwashed citizens that reached out to stop him. He ran blindly for several blocks, wanting only to put as much distance as possible between him and those who would sacrifice him to that terrible monolith. If anyone looked at him, he raised his sword and cried "Death to the Moon!" or whatever the masses nearby happened to be yelling. As long as he pretended to be one of the crowd, the endless slaves of evil left Endymion alone. Again the winged horse had been proven right. There was no force on Earth that could stop this. The monoliths were everywhere; Endymion dodged several as he ran through the crowded streets. He had to get out of the Golden City before he fell under the same power that now commanded most of his countrymen. Something was banging awkwardly against his leg. Endymion put his hand down and his fingers closed on the bumpy shape in his pocket. Slowing, the exiled man ducked into an alley out of sight of the crowd and pulled out the gold star locket. For a long moment, the exiled lover stood there turning the object over and over in his hands. He did not dare open it, for fear someone would discover him, but Endymion did not need to hear the locket's melody to remember the bond it represented. The entire population of the Earth was gathering to rise up against the Moon Kingdom, the realm of his beloved Serenity. The thought of what this maddened crowd might do to her made him shake so violently he nearly collapsed, and he forced the ugly images out of his mind before they could cause him to panic. Was Serenity really in danger? Endymion tried to tell himself the Moon Princess was perfectly safe; she was on another world, with the Sailor Soldiers and the Silver Crystal to protect her...but still, he was filled with dread. The enemy was a thing of pure evil with the power to turn day to night and brainwash millions. It was entirely possible it might find a way to open a passage to the Moon. All magic aside, the citizens of the Earth far outnumbered the Lunarians, and there were mages among the human population with untold powers. The outcome of the coming battle was far from certain. Gripping the locket tightly in his free hand, Endymion left the alley and ran toward the palace at top speed. He had ended his relationship with Princess Serenity, but for the preservation of a society that was not likely to exist after this day. Serenity had her guardians, but none of them knew her as Endymion did. None of them loved her as he did. None of them would fight to protect her as he would. Endymion loved Serenity, more than everything, and no matter what happened, he always would. If she was in danger, he was going to protect her. If he was going to flee into the wilderness to save himself, he would have her with him. The inside of the palace was just as chaotic as the streets. What soldiers there were had been sent out to face down the growing mob at the gates, but the hallways were still busy with messengers running here and there and frightened residents searching for a place of refuge. Kunzite strode through the mayhem like an unstoppable force parting restless waters. Not even a page on the most urgent of missions would have dared cross his path. He descended the staircase like a wave of imminent death, his cape flying out behind him and a furious scowl displayed openly on his face. Kunzite had finally escaped a terrified ambassador after assuring him for the hundredth time that yes, they were doing all they could. The barely-restrained rage in the general's expression now was enough to dissuade anyone else who might have attempted to interrupt his journey. The Middle-Eastern commander glared at the darkened windows as he strolled through the deserted training floor. All hell was breaking loose on the planet, and Kunzite knew of only one place that possessed the power to create such chaos. Fueled by his fury, he kicked open the door to the storage room next to his office. The pair of guards inside leapt to their feet and arranged their uniforms hurriedly, looking first ashamed and then terrified by the sight of their commander. Kunzite ignored the playing cards spread out on a nearby crate. He couldn't blame the soldiers for being bored; guarding a caged cat was hardly a compelling task. There was a growing rumor in the ranks that the leader of the Four Generals was finally losing touch with reality. "Go and join the defense force!" Kunzite barked. The two soldiers were all too eager to comply. After gathering their helmets and pikes, they were off and running, leaving the white-haired man alone with the cage on the floor. The general strode forward, picked up the cage, and slammed it down on a pair of crates so hard that Artemis was thrown roughly against the bars. Kunzite glared at the Mauan with a face so fierce that the white cat shrank back involuntarily. "What is going on?" the Middle-Eastern commander demanded. "First our Prince vanishes, and now the entire planet has been taken over by madness! The Moon has a hand in this, admit it!" Recovering from his shock, the Mauan glared back at the Earth man. If Kunzite wanted to believe such lies, Artemis would make no move to prevent him. Like as not, it was the Earth causing all the trouble, and the general was simply trying to trick his captive into revealing himself. "Speak!" Kunzite roared, his silver eyes flashing. "I see the intelligence behind your eyes! You've been watching us from the beginning, plotting against us! What have you done with the other generals!?" Frustrated and furious, the snowy-haired man snarled and drew one hand back. The air around his fingers darkened and began to glow a deep violet. Artemis shrank back against the bars of his cage, eyes wide with horror. Would the general really go so far as to use magic against him? "Don't waste your energy on animals, Kunzite." The voice had a chuckle and a slight echo. The general whirled around, the power he had been collecting vanishing harmlessly into the air. There was no one in the room except him and the white cat. "Who are you?" he demanded. "Show yourself!" There was more laughter, this time from several voices. Finally, three whirlwinds of dark energy sprang up in the room. Kunzite leapt to the side, got a solid wall at his back, and crouched into a defensive stance. As the energy clouds coalesced, he straightened up with a gasp of surprise. The three missing generals materialized out of the swirling darkness. "What..? How..?" Kunzite stammered, looking from one familiar face to another. "Disturbing to see us do something you can't, is it?" Zoisite teased with a laugh. "Kunzite, it's all right," Nephrite said in a more serious tone. "We finally have the power to defend our planet. You can share in it as well." In the cage on the crates, Artemis arched his back and hissed. He was no magic user himself, but like all Mauans he had a sensitivity to supernatural energy, and he knew dark power when he sensed it. These three men were not the same generals who had entertained the Sailor Soldiers on their visit. They had become wilder, bolder, darker, and there was a light in their eyes that was purely alien. Their auras reeked of tainted energy. Kunzite also seemed to notice something was amiss. He stood casually, but did not approach his comrades. "What is this power of which you speak?" he asked. "It is incredible!" Zoisite burst out, excited. The European commander who had been surly and bitter could now barely contain himself, intoxicated by his newfound strength. "It is all we ever dreamed of and more!" "And when we have the Silver Crystal, we will be invincible," Jadeite added. The hunger in his eyes was all too plain. Artemis' fur stood on end. They could not be planning to strike against the Moon! "Yes, we must get the Silver Crystal," Nephrite agreed in a voice that was suddenly distant, as if he were reciting something. Kunzite's eyes narrowed. "Who told you this? Where did this power come from?" Artemis leaned as close to the conversation as he could, eager for the same answers. "You were right, Kunzite," Jadeite said, ignoring the man's questions. "The Moon has been spying on us, trying to steal our Prince, planning to enslave us! With Metalia's help, we will show all the planets the true power of the Earth! It will be the Earth that rules all, not the Moon!" "Metalia?" Now Kunzite's face became dark with anger. "Have you forgotten your oaths to your rulers so quickly?" Artemis could hardly believe his ears. For all the time he had spent listening in on the Golden Kingdom's most private conversations, he had heard not a whisper of such an ambitious usurper. Was this Metalia somehow connected to the mysterious falling star the Mauan had been investigating? "We no longer recognize the Golden Kingdom's King and Queen," Zoisite said smoothly, folding his arms over his chest. Neither of the men beside him showed any sign of challenging this bold statement. There was a silken sound as Kunzite drew his sword from his sheath. "Traitors!" he roared. "I told you he wouldn't understand," Nephrite sighed, turning to Jadeite. "We should have waited for him to come to us willingly, so Metalia could have communed with him." Artemis searched the chestnut-haired general for any trace of the man who had carried on an amiable one-sided conversation with the caged cat and found none. The gentle mood Nephrite displayed now was as false as the wooden practice swords in a nearby crate. "There was no time," Jadeite replied. His cool attitude, by contrast, was all too familiar. "We attack soon and Endymion needs all four of us." "Endymion?" Kunzite paused as a flash of hope pushed his anger aside. "You have found the Prince?" "He came to Metalia, as we all did," Zoisite explained. "Even now, he is gathering an army to march on the palace. He will be King soon, with a Queen who deserves the throne of Earth - Beryl." For a moment, Kunzite hesitated. "I must admit the thought of Endymion remaining on Earth and marrying the woman he loves is a pleasing one," he said at last, "but what of the King and Queen?" Now the faces of the other three generals hardened into cold, resolved expressions. "It is our rulers who are the traitors," Jadeite said in a voice like ice. "They sold us to the Moon Kingdom as slaves. They even gave up their only son." "They must be punished." Zoisite's lips curved into a chilling half-smile. Kunzite took a half-step backward and raised his sword, looking at his fellow generals suspiciously. "And Endymion sides with you against them? I do not trust this Metalia you speak of, nor do I trust what it has made you. If I must choose between rulers, I choose those who do not ally themselves with darkness." "Come now, Kunzite," Nephrite said gently, stepping forward and raising his hands placatingly. "I know you were as displeased with the way things were going as the rest of us. All we're asking is for you to turn away from the rulers who were poisoning the Golden Kingdom and embrace the ones who want what's best for it." "I have served King Arton and Queen Elana since before the rest of you began training," Kunzite reminded them. "I cannot do that." "Then we must give you a demonstration of the power granted to us by Metalia," Jadeite said grimly, but the hint of a smile was teasing the corners of his lips. The three generals lined up facing their former leader, who resumed his defensive stance and readied his sword. Artemis shrank back as far as the bars of his cage allowed, hoping not to be noticed and trying not to panic. The storage room was not very large. Even were he free of his prison, Artemis would not want to be anywhere near the almighty fight that was about to break out. As one, the three servants of Metalia raised their hands. Beams of dark energy burst from their fingertips and shot toward Kunzite. The Middle-Eastern commander's blade flashed blindingly as he deflected each blast, moving with reflexes even the white cat could not boast. Scattered energy flew everywhere, ricocheting off the stone walls and sinking into the floor. Several shots struck various crates, which exploded, raining down splintered wood and scraps of cloth and shards of metal. The room filled with dust, and still Kunzite's blade kept shining as it blocked every strike. "You can't keep this up forever, old man!" Zoisite crowed from somewhere in the mess. "I am not yet so old that I cannot beat the three of you." Compared to the manic tone of the younger man, Kunzite's voice was as smooth as tranquil waters. Finally, the corrupted generals ceased their assault in favor of a different plan of attack. Feet shuffled forward through the blinding cloud of debris. There was a grunt, a rush of air, and a heavy thud. "You fool!" Nephrite's voice scolded. "Never challenge Kunzite to hand-to-hand combat!" There was the metallic sound of weapons being drawn, and then the air was filled with sparks. The dust was beginning to clear, and Artemis glimpsed the short-haired Jadeite rolling away from where Kunzite had thrown him. Nephrite was charging at the white-haired general, jabbing at him with a knife in each hand, but so far Kunzite was blocking every stroke. Zoisite was edging closer to the Middle-Eastern commander from behind. Suddenly Kunzite whirled around and thrust out his free hand. A blast of violet energy from his palm hit the ponytailed general in the chest and sent him flying backward into a wall. Nephrite and Jadeite seized the opportunity to fire off renewed energy bolts of their own, and the battle of the mages resumed its earlier ferocity. The room was once again filled with dark blasts and the occasional burst of violet light. Shaking off his pain, Zoisite chose that moment to demonstrate one of his new abilities. Clenching his fists at his sides, the blond man rose smoothly into the air. "Not so high now, are you?" he jeered, raining what appeared to be shards of black crystal down on Kunzite from above. Artemis did not linger to see the outcome of the battle. A stray energy blast struck the cage that held him, melting half its bars and sending it crashing to the floor. The door popped open and the Mauan leaped out. Without a backward glance, Artemis darted from the room and tore off down the hallway as fast as his feline legs could carry him. He had to get to the Moon and warn Queen Serenity before it was too late. Upstairs on the ground floor of the palace, a different kind of battle was taking place. A small group was making its way through the dark corridors. The hallways were nearly vacant now, most of the palace's usual occupants having joined the defense lines or fled into the city, but the handful remaining were not finding it easy to reach their destination. One member of the group was resisting. "He is here!" Queen Elana cried, pulling back from the others with all the strength she possessed. "We can't just leave him!" "The entire city is on our doorstep," Arton reminded her, refusing to relinquish his hold on his wife's wrist. "Once this madness blows over, we can send back servants to investigate, whatever you want, but right now we have to get away!" The royal couple and a half-dozen of their most trusted attendants were headed toward the rear of the palace, where a carriage and an armed escort were waiting. Although the Earth Queen tried to wrest her arm free, the King was too strong for her. She hauled with all her weight, but dress slippers and stone floors did little to hold her and she was dragged forward despite her struggling. "How can you be so cold?" Elana demanded. "He is your son!" At this, Arton paused and yanked his wife close. "He is dead," he hissed. "That's what you told me, for all those years! Every time I voiced the slightest hope, it was you who told me to give up, to focus on the present instead of the past!" Elana gazed up into the coal-black eyes and dark hair that were the hallmarks of her lost son and saw the anguish that had been locked away at her request. She looked away, overcome by guilt. "I was wrong," the Queen said softly, her eyes filling with regretful tears. "Please-" "I will not listen to you now," King Arton said firmly. "You're not well." He turned away and strode resolutely down the hallway, yanking Elana along beside him. The servants hurried to keep up, weighed down by the various supplies their monarch had gathered upon deciding to leave the palace. There wasn't much time. The rabble outside were common citizens, but they vastly outnumbered what soldiers were on hand. "We can find him!" Queen Elana insisted, refusing to give in. "Let me go!" Her shrieks and struggles drowned out the light footsteps hurrying down nearby corridors. By the time the Earth King heard them, it was too late. The small party stopped abruptly as the shadows around them suddenly filled with swords. A few of the servants dropped what they were carrying and turned to run, but they were surrounded. The wall of blades advanced, and several of their bearers stepped into what dim light remained in the corridor. Both rulers gasped, all other concerns momentarily forgotten. These were not disgruntled commoners. They were uniformed guards, soldiers sworn to protect the very monarchs they were now threatening. Many of them had been assigned to police the palace gates only a few hours before. "What is the meaning of this?" King Arton demanded. He thrust his wife protectively behind his back, but retained his firm hold on her wrist. The braver ones among the servants drew close to their rulers, forming a human shield as best they could. These soldiers were not the loyal men they had been. They sneered and laughed menacingly, and there was something about their eyes that was not quite human. "These men are no longer yours to command," a familiar voice announced. The wall of blades parted and Prince Endymion strode forward into the circle. His sword was drawn, he was fully armored, and his once-tranquil face was filled with contempt. His lips curled and he glared at his parents with a look of distain. Elana's knees weakened as horror crept over her. "My son-" "Do not address me so!" the Earth Prince snapped, his blue eyes filling with fire. "What kind of parents send their only son to be the plaything of another world? What kind of rulers sell their own people as slaves for their own security?" "You know that was never our intent," King Arton said angrily. "Who has been feeding you these lies? Why would you betray us after all this time?" "I have finally found the strength to do what I should have done long ago," Prince Endymion replied. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword and his lips twisted into a ravenous smile. "At last, I will take what is mine." Endymion ran through the side corridors of the palace, straining his ears to catch the slightest sound. Most of the massive structure was deserted and silent, but he had been outside and knew the horrible truth. The soldiers assigned to guard the palace were falling victim to the same evil that had taken control of the rest of the population. The Earth was being conquered without a fight. The mob that was gathering in the Central Gardens was growing by the minute, and it was only by pretending to already be one of them that Endymion had avoided being recruited himself. By the time he reached the palace walls, the entrances were unguarded; the soldiers that had tended them had gone to join the rebel ranks. Even so, Endymion had chosen a service gate that opened into the kitchens. He had heard talk of the Earth Prince being sent to the palace on a special mission and did not want to risk encountering him or his guard. The former stable hand stuck to the servants' passages as long as he could, trusting in Talma's description of the place to keep him going in the right direction. It was strange; although Endymion had been unconscious nearly the entire time he had been in the palace, something about it seemed familiar. He chose doors and corridors without fully knowing why. Something in his heart led him confidently onward. Finally, it could no longer be avoided. He had to climb to the main level to proceed further. Choosing a nearby staircase, Endymion ascended in leaps and bounds, his naked sword ready to challenge any enemy he might encounter. The man's luck held. When he burst through the door at the top of the staircase, he found himself in an empty chamber. Endymion paused for a minute to catch his breath and get his bearings. The darkness had come so suddenly that no lamps had been lit, and he had to comb the room intently with his eyes before he felt certain there was no one lurking in the shadows. In the dark and the silence, the palace felt abandoned, and the large empty room did nothing to ease Endymion's discomfort. This was a grand and stately chamber, with great stone pillars supporting the ceiling, but it seemed to exist solely for show. There was no furniture and not even a single fireplace to provide comfort in the winter. Turning around, Endymion finally spied the chamber's only decoration against the back wall. An alcove had been carved into the stone, and inside it a suit of armor was hanging on iron hooks. It seemed the only purpose of the entire room was the display of this armor. Tapestries hanging on either side of the alcove depicted warriors in battle wearing what appeared to be that very armor. Clearly it was an heirloom of some kind. Endymion slipped the gold star locket back into the pocket of his trousers and eyed the suit thoughtfully. He was charging alone into an imminent war and had no time to find the palace armory. He could certainly use the protection of a breastplate, if nothing else. It was obvious that stealing this armor would be a serious crime indeed, but the government of the Earth was in shambles, and there was not likely to be much left of the Golden Kingdom to notice its absence... Making his decision, Endymion put his foot on an uneven piece of wall and pulled himself up to the alcove. The armor was black with silver accents on the breastplate, and its shoulder guards were polished to a mirror shine. There was not a speck of dust or tarnish on any piece of the suit despite apparent years of disuse. It included everything from plated boots to a cape lined with red velvet. Apparently this armor was intended for a high-born hero, perhaps a top general. Today, it would have to make do with a lesser-born wearer. Endymion's eyes narrowed in puzzlement as he studied the suit. There did not seem to be any buckles or fastenings of any kind on the armor's various plates, nor any seams at all on the suit's upper torso. How was a person to put it on? Confused, he reached out to touch the breastplate. There was an eruption of golden light. Endymion cried out briefly in involuntary shock as he was blinded by the sudden glow. A now-familiar heat flared in his chest, and he tingled from his fingers to his toes. The metal of the black breastplate flashed hot against his hand, and then abruptly vanished. The light winked out. Endymion steadied himself against the cold stone walls of the alcove and blinked furiously, the sudden brightness having destroyed his night vision. As his eyes readjusted to the darkness, he found himself staring into empty space. The armor was gone. He turned around, and his body felt strangely heavy and confined. Endymion looked down. The suit of armor had somehow attached itself to his body. From the black shirt and pants to the metal plates over them, the entire ensemble was now a shell over his skin. Startled and confused, the former stable hand pulled at the strange clothing, frightened by its unexpected display of magic. The armor stuck to him firmly, refusing to release its hold on his body. Endymion jumped down from the alcove and the armor moved with him, as versatile as if it were a natural part of him. After a moment of panic, the exiled man stopped struggling. He had wanted armor; now he had armor. That it happened to be magical was of little consequence. He knew now why it was displayed so reverently, at least. Just wearing it made him feel stronger, bolder. He wondered vaguely at the momentary golden glow that signified a reaction in his still-mysterious powers; what did it mean? There was no time to analyze that puzzle now. Endymion had stayed too long already. At any time, the rebel army might burst into the palace or the Prince's team might find him. The sheath bound to the armor's waist was empty, but it fit the former stable hand's sword like a glove. After sliding the blade home, Endymion ran from the room, marveling at how easily the armor adjusted to his movements. He barreled down the empty corridors, now focused solely on reaching the teleportation chamber as quickly as possible. The cape flying out behind him was an unexpected nuisance; Endymion kept glancing back to make sure the flapping cloth he was hearing wasn't a pursuer. With red fabric streaming from his shoulders and metal boots striking the flagstones, he was no longer as invisible nor as silent as he had been, but once he reached the Moon it would not matter. The now-armored man turned one corner after another, once again following the instinctive directions of his heart. Odds were Endymion would soon be hopelessly lost, but all he could think about was Princess Serenity. Had the war already reached the Moon? Was Serenity all right? Were the Lunarians even aware of the force being raised against them? Suddenly, the running man became aware of an odor that made him sick to his stomach and chilled him to the bone. The hallway was filled with the smell of blood. With every stride he took it grew thicker, until every breath he drew choked him with it. Whatever the source was, Endymion was headed straight for it. He slowed down as the dread began to grow in his gut, fearing what he might stumble across. Although he listened intently, he heard nothing, but he still drew his sword before walking around the next corner. A terrible sight met his eyes. A battle had taken place in this hallway. By the look of things, it had been more of an execution. A half-dozen motionless human bodies lay scattered around on the floor, most of them dressed in the simple clothing of palace servants. Parcels and bundles of cloth spattered with blood were strewn across the area. All the bodies lay in pools of dark red, and not all of them were whole. Endymion pressed the back of one hand to his mouth as his stomach churned. Was this what the brainwashed people of Earth were capable of? Was this what they would do to anyone who opposed them? He tried to look away from the bodies, but his eyes simply leapt from one still form to the next, until each and every one was engraved into his mind. Swallowing the bile that rose in his throat, he gingerly stepped around the lifeless corpse of a dark-haired man in fine robes, and shuddered as if the grave being crossed was his own. The very air tasted of blood. Someone groaned. Endymion sheathed his sword and hurried toward the sound. A woman was lying face-down a short distance from the others, as if she had been cut down while trying to escape. Kneeling beside her, the former stable hand gently reached out and took hold of her shoulders. The woman's skin was warm to the touch, but when Endymion turned her over and lifted her in his arms, he knew there was no hope. Blood was oozing from a wound in the woman's chest, and a stream of dark red was trickling from the corner of her mouth. It was only a matter of minutes. There was not even any reason to attempt to make a bandage. Endymion set his jaw. It was not quite hopeless. There was yet a chance. Shifting the woman's weight in his arms, he gently placed one hand on the wound in her chest and focused. There was a slight stirring inside him, and a faint warmth flowed through his fingertips, but it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He gritted his teeth and searched desperately for the healing power that had come so easily to him at other times, but he could not muster the strength to heal such a grievous injury. The exiled man had to give up when his head started spinning, and he was left frustrated and angry. What good was his mysterious power if he could not save this innocent? Surrounded by the silent dead, Endymion felt like a living man trapped in a cold tomb. His mind screamed urgency, every beat of his heart marking another second passing by. He had to get to the Moon quickly, to prevent more carnage like this...but if he could not save this woman, he would not leave her to die alone. Like the man he had passed at the other end of the grisly scene, this victim was dressed in fine clothing. She wore a green gown trimmed in gold, overlaid by a thick robe that had surely cost more than Endymion had earned in his entire lifetime. She shook briefly in his arms as her breath rattled in her chest, and the exiled stable hand shivered as he watched her life slipping away. Rich or poor, common or noble, everyone died the same way. The woman stirred weakly, and something flashed on her chest. A gold emblem had been affixed there, and although it was largely stained with blood, it was a symbol Endymion knew well. He had seen it on every guard and soldier in the city. It was the royal crest of the Golden Kingdom. Now he noticed the circlet in her auburn hair. Now he took in the clothing, the servants, the scattered supplies, and put it all together. The shock was so great he nearly dropped the dying victim. This woman was Queen Elana. She moaned again, and her eyes opened. Endymion stared into the clouded blue pools with renewed horror. The maddened rebels had murdered their own King and Queen. Whatever controlled the people, it would stop at nothing to achieve its goals. What chance did even a beloved ruler like Queen Serenity have against such an enemy? Elana's eyes widened. She stared up at the young man, taking in his dark hair, charcoal eyes, and black and silver armor. Her gaze traced every line and detail of his face, drinking him in as if he were life-giving water. Her lips parted and moved silently for a moment before she finally managed a sound. "Endymion," the Queen gasped. She breathed, and her blue eyes slowly filled with tears. "My son...!" The former stable hand grieved so badly for the dying woman that he could barely resist the compulsion to look away. In her delirium, the Earth Queen thought he was her son, the Prince. Endymion almost wished he had just left her there and moved on, anything to not be facing the impossible task of breaking a dying woman's heart. "I knew you were alive," Elana continued, a pained but joyous smile spreading across her pale face. "How glad I am to see you again, if for the last time." A thin hand, trembling from the effort, rose and reached up to caress Endymion's face. He shuddered at the woman's touch, but did not pull away. Perhaps it was wrong to allow Elana's delusion to continue, but he could not bring himself to tell her he was not her Endymion. He was not about to deny the dying Queen the last comfort she craved, nor could he burden her last moments with the horrible truth that her beloved son had most likely joined the side of evil. The soft flesh of the noblewoman's hand was cold, but strangely, something within Endymion was warmed by it. He had never had a mother. He could almost imagine that he really was the son Elana was looking for, that the tenderness in her touch and the love in her eyes were really meant for him. "Can you ever forgive me?" the weakening Queen whimpered, her voice breaking as the tears ran down her cheeks. "I never really stopped believing, not even when I convinced everyone else to give up on you. At last...you've returned to prove my heart right in the end." Her arm dropped heavily, and Endymion found himself catching her hand in his and squeezing it tightly, although by the chill in her skin she could no longer feel him. "I thought...it was for the best," Elana wept, her chest shuddering as she fought for the breath to say what she was desperate to express. Her eyes were growing dim, but never once did they stray from Endymion's face. "Please...forgive me...my son..." Endymion squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, fighting the lump that was rising in his throat. It should have been Prince Endymion here, not some common-blooded orphan who happened to stumble upon the Queen when it was too late to save her. It should have been her son here to tell her what she wanted to hear so badly. Endymion cursed the Earth Prince internally with everything he had, cursed the man's coldness, his cowardice, his lust for power, whatever it was that had driven the heir to the throne to side with darkness against his own parents. Then he opened his eyes and smiled. "I forgive you, Mother," he said softly. Queen Elana's face flooded with relief. The pain drained away from her expression and was replaced by an incredible tranquility. For a brief instant, her eyes sparkled once more. "I always...loved you...Endymion..." Elana's eyes slid closed, and she went limp in the young man's arms. Endymion clutched the lifeless body to his chest for a moment, no longer caring that by society's law he was unfit even to stand in her presence. "I am sorry, my Queen," he whispered, a deep pain filling his heart. The Queen of Earth had died at the vicious hands of her own countrymen, and even as one of her subjects, in a hero's armor with strange magic on his side, Endymion could do nothing for her but pretend to be her son. Regardless of whether or not Elana had been a good Queen, she was a human being and deserved better than this. Humanity itself deserved better than to be used and manipulated by a creature of darkness. It was too late for the Golden Kingdom. Its rulers were dead, its heir was a tool of evil, and in trying to avoid becoming slaves of the Moon its people had become slaves of something else. Endymion was only one man. He could no more right these wrongs than drink the ocean. As one man, the most he could hope to do was save one woman. Reverently, Endymion laid the body of Queen Elana on the floor and got to his feet. Gazing down on her serene but still face, the exiled man's heart began to pound. If the rebels had already passed through here, it was likely they had reached the Moon Kingdom by now. What if he was already too late? A dreadful image of Princess Serenity took the place of the dead woman at Endymion's feet, crystal hair strewn about and white dress stained with blood. With a strangled cry, the exiled lover whirled around and fled the tragic scene, resuming his run down the corridor. It couldn't be too late, it couldn't. She had to be all right. He had to get there in time. A pale light ahead called to the running man. He followed it around a corner and through an open door, and found himself in the teleportation chamber at last. The platform was already alight; apparently someone in the invasion party had the proper access code. The silver shine of a link with the Moon Kingdom filled the room with an eerie light, making the stone walls seem almost metallic. Seeing the gateway to the Moon standing open with no travelers or guards in sight was extremely unsettling. Endymion drew his sword and took a deep breath. He had committed himself to a life on Earth, and now he was preparing to return to a world that had caused him unspeakable pain, to fight on its side in a war against his own people. Before he could hesitate another moment, Endymion charged forward and leapt onto the platform. The silver light engulfed and sank into him, whisking him away from the planet he had come to call home. The things he did for love. |
