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Night into Day by Loki

Night into Day


I call you, Mamoru, my friend and king of Earth, Endymion. You know me as Hotaru. But I am also the keeper of silence, the monarch of Saturn.

I call upon the children of your dominion, those with the dreams of Helios' temple he tends, as would the watcher of a sleeping child to open their eyes.

Dreams are the breaths between the living and the canyons of velvet night in death. Suspended is your blue pearl in the place of its birth and eventual demise, known as Earth, or Terra to us Old Ones; its pulse cupped in the loving womb of the infinite.

But I, the forgotten story, the song of a girl receding, the princess of ancient forgetting; I remember. I remember you, all of you… This I know with absolute certainty; the children of Terra, are afraid of the night, the darkness and what it consumes. But you know little of its true abundance. It is mysterious and awaiting its season to unfold. Shall it claim your tiny light? No, not yet, you have a trail to blaze, little ones.

But you are forgetting; I am the womb, your silent and all-encompassing mother, the gateway, the devourer and the black hole or singularity of Pandora, a whispered secret in the form of a shrinking adolescent girl. But as you know, I am much more than this… Amaterasu's cave personified --am I.

Now you fear me. You are estranged from me. I, having thrust you into this life from the sanctuary of the Goddess, bade you open your eyes, hearts and stand before the combined light of the eight-petal crystal Chrysanthemum, the core of Affinity. Celestial sisters; warriors of Serenity, she the queen of an eternal prism and its wayshower. I call to each of you: Jupiter, the thunderbolt, can enliven, destroy darkness. The Oak, the tower of strength, the sleeper of wisdom to come and of wisdom in repose, these things I see in your eyes, your movements, words and actions.

Mars, guardian of the flames that direct the magic of fire, to the power of a shape shifter, or the cleansing force, the purifier, the sultry lover, the whore and provider. Mars, you hold this quintessential mandate.

Yes, and you ask; what of the beautiful and powerful Sailor Venus -- she whom is the personification of the promise, the kiss and living animator, servant of the future, sweetness and fertility. She, the passion fire, a flame of a differing sort, representing silver blade and beauty, presiding over a perennial symmetry of the heart. In the embrace of lovers, she works her magic, to dream, sleep and to give of themselves to create a new life, a new pleasure from the tiny deaths of two who love. Venus, the patroness of love and of romance, as warrior of the heart, driving nations as she does countless ships, armies, offering themselves as sacrifice in love's name.

Mercury, the maiden of ice, but in the cool embrace of the intellect is found warmth and love of a more different and tender character. For the mind has its own radiance, its own seduction. She, not devoid of sensual fire, the flames cool to the touch, but a smoldering fire burns that is well understood by the wise. She, the wisdom enchantress, Aquarius, the flow and the wayshower, the loyalty of those forces she imbibes as the mistress of water. She is the governess of the tides of fortune, of dreams and manifestation as water is the servant of life, and yet, can drown nations and feed the flowers and serve the harvest's sacred moon.

Death, is life inverted, the two way street of paradox. But you look only in one direction. You rose from the timeless sea of Mara, and you will find your way back to me again, when sun and moon dance and kiss, and a stirring in my womb alerts me to your return. Existence is but a series of micro fractures that play out a necessary imperative. You must leave me, to go on, to build and sew the measure of time, Like the Sakura, to feel the wind kissing your mortal petals, to sink your roots in uncertainty. All the more to savor its glory, and mature.

I see the secret innocent child in your eyes that refuses to retreat despite the gathering of years that like a debutante's billowing skirts or the overcoat of a strong young man, finds the irresistible longing in the burnished setting of the sun as it gives itself to the celestial diadem that cradles the silver moon. Dusk is a colorful prelude; summoning, it sings to you and its enticing promise of gentle oblivion, so sweet and yet, so completely sad, a sumptuous contradiction to be sure.

But you resist, as you must. You are the forerunner and outpouring of the emergent dreams realized. The gestation of worlds and hopes of the rising tide that longs to wash upon the newborn shore; the sweet ensemble of nature's royal court. The place where it rains dreams, those things lost and found in the awakening, on the cusp of the impossible I wait for you with open arms.


Queen Saturn


Ghost of a Chance


I know; I have experienced it myself. There I was; a girl lying on the crystal sands, naked as the day I was born after the battle was won. I had raised my glaive to defend my friends, and to preserve the precious elixir of love and life that throbs secretly beneath the shroud of eternal night, for death is in its exactitude, simply another word for change, and for me -- the ultimate initiation.

I stand in a jeweled fuku, my glaive restored. It glows like a decoration, the flaming torch, bestowing kaleidoscope kisses upon the banks of stealthy cloud, erupting into flames of color, directing the dawn to its purpose. The birds, and the living tapestry of the new day, pour themselves as libations to it all.

I died, fell at the hands of my legacy. But I return, to a world I hope better for the sacrifice of the corn maiden. For the slaying, for I am the embodiment of life and death – its strands of cosmic DNA, replicated in the tiny fragments of matter, ever bursting forth in the dying nova, or blossoming within the cradle of a star field nursery. Life and death are but a series of notes in a boundless harmonic refrain, my song, the song of Saturn.


It was a powerful blast. Stars shot out in all directions, like glistening marbles. I was in free-fall, suspended in the aftermath of the ultimate attack; no enemy, but one threat totally natural, part of the glory and peril of the heavens. In that moment, I remembered it all.

Mama Setsuna, had learned I was her child, a lost child to a lost past. Her memories having faded, had now returned with a painful, yet joyous vengeance. If I can put it that way. Hmmmm, I just did, didn't I?

But an unknown anomaly was rippling through the Terran Star System, and it was connected with mother and I somehow. But the Time Gate remained closed, obscure and yielded nothing, its secrets kept from its servant.

Usagi was aghast. Minako cried. Mercury pondered the options with Mamoru. Luna and Artemis checked the crystal archives for answers, and Mars was determined to call upon the power of fire to glean a fragment of the future that might offer a solution and solace to mother and me, to us all. We all felt it: the cosmic tides drifting ever outward, the swelling of the Earth's heart, and the temperatures on the surface and ocean floor, rising exponentially, the heart of Endymion beating faster.

The heat rose as a micro-anomaly, a small black hole with attitude appearing between Pluto and Neptune. I was the only one who could deal with this, I knew, and as I stood on the ancient star craft inbound for the epicenter of the pulsing vortex, I was resolved to sacrifice myself to save my friends, and our kingdoms from imminent destruction. So I died, my spirit flung into the blackness, garnished with fire and light. All this set against the backdrop of deep space.

The next thing I knew, as the tides of Mara closed over my formless self, I was on Earth once more, disembodied it seemed and time and space had altered, and buckled to an inexplicable mistress and I couldn't believe it.

There I was, rushing up the steep narrow stairs, buffeting two women aside. I was suddenly frightened as I left them trailing in my etheric wake, was I dead? This prospect and the glowing vapor trailing behind me frightened them just as much as it had me. But my fear I shed in that moment, like a second skin. For some unknown reason, I moaned in what sounded to my ears a parody of a ghost. I had no idea why I had done this. But something deep inside compelled me.

These women, I realized, were servants of my possessed father, Dr. Tomoe and Kaori Knight. I felt that if anyone needed a good scare, it would be those two. I stood, feet apart at the top of the stairs and blew them a kiss, the kiss of death and of renewal and upon the landing, two babies in the clothing they had worn as adults cried. I gathered them into my arms, brought them to the sitting room and placed them on the sofa. I kissed each with affection, and left to find my way to my room.

Standing on the threshold. I melted into the imposing shining visage of an oak door leading into, I knew, my bedroom. Standing at the end of my bed, I marveled. I caught my gossamer reflection in the mirror.

I was pretty, wearing a Gothic styled dress with its frilly white lace and purple floral motifs catching my attention. Its hem falling to mid-thigh, my hair dark and far longer pouring over my right shoulder to my waist.

I was a small pale dark-haired adolescent girl, about fifteen years of age by my appearance. But I was far older in fact, thousands of years, perhaps millions or more.

Examining my surroundings, I found myself smiling at the many heroes and heroines adorning my bedroom walls and the storm clouds I had lovingly painted as backdrop to mother nature's imminent beauty, contrast of tempest and of life's boundless capacity to reproduce and then die to the love of the yielding. To give this nectar and to sate itself and the honeyeater, a sacrifice was required. This was where I came in: my life, my death, not mutually exclusive, no not at all. I knew death was my friend, lover and life too, his passion and the two ever entwined in an infinite embrace.

My attention was drawn back to the present. I observed the kind and maternal woman standing over the bed. I knew her right away. It was Usagi's mother, Ikuko.

I casually rubbed one knee against the other to relieve an annoying itch as I looked on. I then found the pale face of the girl I was, and knew what I must do.

Ikuko could now see me. I smiled. She returned the smile and welcomed me. I only then noticed I was holding something, a crystal raven, carved and fashioned from firestone -- now a bird of shimmering flame. I summoned my glaive, it moved of its own accord through the air, placing its crystal tip upon the symbol of Saturn upon my corpse's brow. The fiery bird drew me into itself and flew towards the glowing symbol of Saturn.

The next thing I knew, I was breathing, feeling the weight of my bones, the receding clammy touch of my skin, the blood turning alabaster limbs to soft gold and my eyes fluttered open.

" Ikuko-sama. It is done. Thanatos is sated. The Youma army and the Dark Lords are no more. Earth and our kingdoms are safe!" I fell asleep upon a kiss to my cheek as I muttered, "tell mother I am okay and that I love her."


End

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