Prologue
A dry, dusty wind blew into the funeral pavilion near the back of the royal palace. Unbound black hair, so prominent among those gathered, tossed and turned in the wind like a living mass. To the child gathered closest to her mother’s skirts, it almost seemed like a dragon, dark and ominous against the future. Her own dark hair was bound back in a thick, modest braid that bumped against the back of her legs as the wind tried in vain to push the heavy mass about. Even so, a few gentle curls escaped above her ears to curl about the baby-fat still retained in her cheeks. Though she was young yet, those about her could already see the beauty she was going to be when she matured.
The girl’s hand twisted further into the voluminous skirt of her mother’s dress, her eyes fixed not upon the priest standing at the head of the coffin, but at the black mass of her aunts’, uncles’ and cousins’ hair. Still, the chanting of the priest could not escape her notice for all that it had been muted into background noise. The priest’s voice became that of the dragon’s as it reached for the gleaming onyx-colored casket set on the funeral pyre.
“Deiux ma leiri-a. Deius nei la ma,” The dragon chanted, its black claws scraping at the closed prison of her sister’s body. The tongue twisted out, lapping acid along the wood, turning the varnish dull and scorching marks along it. The child wanted to cry out, but the words caught in her throat. She wanted to shake, to cry, to indicate that something was wrong, but she was frozen by the black stare of the creature that tormented her sister’s remains. The serpentine creature slowly wound its long body around the base of the pyre, yet it never let its gaze divert from the young girl’s. Coming over the other side of the casket, the dragon let its claws sink finally into the wood itself, dark amber and gold tendrils spreading through the wood like punctures through a pane of glass. Its enormous black head, as long and wide as the girl’s own body, slowly lowered down to eye level with her, noxious breath caressing her face and blowing her hair as the wind alone could not.
The child’s lips parted, even as she knew she could not scream. The tongue of the dragon drifted out towards her, the acid dripping from it to sizzle and scorch droplets down the front of her black and scarlet dress. Her violet eyes were wide with terror, she knew, but no one about her seemed to notice. Still, she could not move any further, no matter how she tried.
A great slamming noise broke the silence of the gathering about her and flames erupted from the base of the pyre. A single blink and the creature was gone, though she thought she could still see glimpses of him in the black that occasionally flickered in the hot hues of the bonfire. Muscles tense with the spasm shock brought by the vision’s departure, the child glanced at the gathering about her. The priest–her uncle, Duke Mechallan Pheonix—had taken his hand off the casket from where he’d lit it and taken a step back so that the flames wouldn’t singe his robes... not that anyone would notice black marks on a robe that was made to look scorched in the first place. Others about her were stirring now, shifting a little to keep their muscles from stiffening. They would remain here until the fire completed its work, turning the late Crown Princess into nothing more than scattered ashes.
“Rayna?” A soft voice hissed into her ear, and the girl had to restrain a squeak of terror as she turned to find her next eldest sister standing behind her. Ranfan’s eyes, a mirror of Rayna’s own, darkened in worry as her brows furrowed tightly. She was only a couple of years Rayna’s elder, but the mark of the Senshi was already upon Ranfan’s brow. It glowed a little as she inspected her beloved sister, and leaned in closer. “Rayna, what did you do to your dress?”
Fresh horror spread through Rayna’s small form, and she found her eyes drawn down to the front of her dress along with Ranfan’s. There, dappled as if by large, fat rain droplets, scorch marks marred the length of the scarlet material. It was obvious to anyone who knew fire as well as the Martian royal family did that such marks weren’t caused by standing too close to a funeral pyre.
Rayna couldn’t help focusing back towards the flames, and perhaps it was her imagination, but she was almost certain she could see the dragon clearly again, slinking along the falling coffin and laughing.
The vision stayed with her the rest of the day, slipping into her soup at dinner and weaving amongst the mourners at the wake. It was there in the hearth fire as she and her siblings said their evening prayers, and it slipped upon the shadows as she walked with them to their individual bedrooms. Only children younger than five years, of which there were four currently in the royal family, slept in the nursery. When one turned six, they were expected to begin sleeping in individual rooms inside the “children’s wing.” These were hardly bigger than cells, but nicely furnished, and all down a small private hallway so that the siblings would be closer together. Each child’s room would be switched again when they turned thirteen, depending on the path of life they chose. For now, Rayna left the toddlers with their nannies and continued with her elder siblings towards their wing.
As they made their way down the hall the dragon followed, dancing in the shadows their candles cast between the portraits that hung there. On the right hand side was painting after painting of the past Queens and Kings of Mars, always pictured as a couple save the few instances where a ruler had died before they were able to take a spouse. In this way, the Martians strove to represent that they believed highly in dual rulership. Though it was left unspoken, this was also why the spouse of the ruler was chosen at great length and only with the consent of a majority of counselors. Marriage for love’s simple sake was not something commonly or well spoken of to the royal children. On the left of the hallway hung portraits of trios rather than couples. Always captured in their prime, the royal guardians of Mars played just as important a role in the ruling of the planet.
Tradition played a great part in these portraits. Whereas the positioning of the rulers in the paintings changed over time and each artist was allowed some freedom with background, the paintings of the guardians were always basically the same. Always, the Princess, the Senshi of Mars herself, stood in the middle, sword drawn and proud of the uniform she wore. To either side, the Moon Guardians, always her cousins, Phobos and Deimos stood to her flank. No matter the subtle changes in features and shades of coloring, the background was always that of the black and scarlet flag of the red planet.
Tonight, these paintings seemed somehow different to Rayna. As she passed, ever slowing near the back of their little group, she hardly noticed the hot wax dripping over her porcelain skin, so caught was she in watching as the portraits turned to look back at her. She could hear a strange, hollow laughing echoing at the back of her head like the sounds of moonlight and shadow, and the dragon raced alongside them like a fish in the sea, swimming the wall between the onyx and ruby decked frames.
Finding herself nearly alone as the warm light of her brothers and sisters began to turn the corner, Rayna broke herself from her thoughts and ran to catch up with the little circle of orange tranquility rather than be left behind with the dark faces of the past. Her eldest brother, Roko, come home from the temple for that day’s funeral, turned to cast a questioning eye down at her. She fell into place behind him, and let her violet eyes drop. Running was forbidden inside the castle except when a true emergency warranted it. Rayna was certain Roko would say nothing and so she said nothing as well, casting her eyes down at the candle she held in her hands. Something about the way the flame arched its back towards her, then once more to the left side of the hallway pulled her eyes in that direction. Once more the paintings were watching her with such rapt attention it made her skin prickle. Never before had an artist’s trick affected her so, and she wondered if it was simple imagination doing this or something more. Forcing her eyes away from them, she turned to the right to see if the Kings and Queens would look at her thus.
To her great relief they didn’t, though she couldn’t help but notice the reason they did not–their eyes were on another in their party. Ranfan, apparently unaware of her audience, walked ahead in somber reflection, so lost in thought that she didn’t even feel the more tangible eyes of her sister boring into her. The mark on her forehead, however, glowed briefly when Rayna looked at it, and the girl felt color rising to her cheeks. Unsure of why she was blushing, or even why these strange visions were plaguing her so, Rayna almost didn’t stop when Roko opened the double doors leading into the Children’s Wing.
“Good night,” he whispered to them, breaking another rule in his speaking. The time after prayers was supposed to have been kept in silence, though none but he, already having begun his training for the priesthood, knew why that was. He stopped each of the four middle children as they headed into the dark–pleasantly portrait free–hallway beyond. To Romere, the next eldest, he extended a hand to settle on his shoulder. This was as much of a comforting gesture as the two brothers were inclined to give one another anymore. A short time ago, it would have been different–before the accident which left Romere blind. Ever since, the boy, barely come to the age of choosing whether he would go into service at a temple or among the royal guards, had become embittered and remarkably unpleasant. His family gave him his space, sure that in time he would come to terms with his fate and settle into the role of scholar that had been laid out for him. Romere pulled away from the touch, and descended into the darkness beyond. The tap, tap, tapping of the cane he held in place of a candle echoed out from the empty hall.
Ranmon was stopped next, greeted with a hand on his shoulder, as well as a light kiss on the brow. Unlike most of his siblings, Ranmon’s eyes were the deep, rich brown of a doe or fawn, amazing in the simple way that they could cause a person’s mind and heart to melt with a single glance. This singular talent was a supreme contrast to Ranmon’s overwhelmingly volatile personality. His rages were as harsh and swift as the sandstorms of Uranus, and his sweet moments as soft and kind as the kiss of morning dew upon a blossoming rose. Worse yet was the debate over whether he had control of these moods or not. While the public opinion leaned towards his innocence in its start, there were some–most notably those in his immediate family–who were almost certain that some of these mood swings were done quite purposely. It was because of this that his birthright had been overlooked when Ralisia, the second eldest sister, and Roko had both given up their rights to Crown or Senshi power by joining the priesthood.
No rages came this time; Ranmon gave his elder a smile before slipping into the darkness. His candle lit the passage a little more, and Rayna’s apprehension lessened as Ranfan took her turn to stop beside their brother.
Roko stopped Ranfan a little longer than the two boys, taking the curly haired girl into his arms for a quick embrace. He said something then, of this Rayna was certain for she saw Ranfan give the slightest of nods into his shoulder. She was not told what this was, however, and then Ranfan, too, was gone. Roko turned to the last sibling left, and offered her that easy smile she’d so long associated with him.
Though he was exactly double her age, Rayna still had vivid memories of this brother before he’d gone to study with the priests one year ago. At least, she had better memories of him than she did Ralisia or Reika. She winced unconsciously at the memory of the eldest of their little brigade, and shook that aside with the memory of what their father had told them all three days prior. “Reika is no longer your sister. Though we hail her as dead in the eyes of our countrymen, we alone know that Reika is much worse than that. She is a blood traitor, and a pox upon the name of Mars. From this day forth, Ralisia is and always has been, the eldest of my brood.”
The cold, unfeeling glint in her father’s usually warm black eyes had sent a chill through Rayna’s soul and spine, and did once more even as she brushed the memory away. She’d rarely seen him like that, so angry and full of resentment. The thought that that demeanor could so easily turn upon one of his own children was even more upsetting.
“Raye.” Her brother’s voice, close now that he was crouching in the hall before her, brought her back to reality once again. From his worried tone and expression, the girl was certain he’d called her name, and nickname probably, at least once before. She offered him one of her rare, ever polite smiles.
“Woolgathering,” Rayna, or Raye to her close friends and relatives, explained. From the frown on his face, Roko didn’t quite believe that but neither did he press the matter.
“You be careful with that,” he replied instead, “if you travel space too much, it is said you’ll become cold and distant.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she couldn’t help replying, her normal non-expression falling back upon her darling cherry-blossom lips. “Cold and distant is better than emotional and traitorous.”
Roko’s deep purple eyes stopped their twinkling, and his smile faded for a moment. He reached out for her, a touch she didn’t pull away from, and the warmth of his hands upon her shoulders came as a great shock to her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how cold she’d been even under the dark layers of wool of which their winter prayer robes were made. Certainly he felt that too, for his lips eased into a deep frown, and his voice deepened past its fourteen years. The wise mind he’d always been so praised for showed then, like a single star in a dead system–bright and clear and strong. “I know this has been hard on you, Raye. It has been on all of us. I don’t really know what father and mother were thinking, taking you into the counsel room like that when Reika’s .... reason for departure was exposed.”
He paused then, and Rayna’s own frown deepened to match his. Her own temper, though certainly not as wild as Ranmon’s, was never something to be trifled with. Before she could let it carry the words to her lips–always an upsetting thing, as these outbursts, unlike most assigned to children of her age, seemed to come from wisdom her mere seven years did not account for–Roko took up his lecture once more, “I know what you’re thinking. ‘How could she?’ ‘Why would she do this to her family?’ ‘How could she abandon her position like that?’ ... I can’t say that I understand her decision myself. We weren’t exactly raised to understand such things.”
That in itself was an understatement. While the siblings knew of their love for one another, and the love that had long since grown between their mother and father, what Reika had done was far from the usual path of their station. “But why hide it like this?” she found herself asking, her voice far from the indignant anger one could have expected from her when they were treating her like the child she appeared to be.
“Because...” Here Roko sighed, and paused again. Rayna gave him his time to collect his thoughts, though the darkness of the hall loomed beyond him and the slowly damping flames of their candles grew smaller. “Because this has been embarrassing enough for our family.” Seeing the confusion in Rayna’s eyes, Roko explained further, “You know of the last war, in Grandmother’s time?”
Rayna nodded. She had been told of the last civil war, only a generation past, that had fallen in Queen Rabelle’s reign. A glance behind her at the unbroken wall of rulers landed on one of the more recent portraits; their grandmother, caught in her prime at the side of her husband, their grandfather, King Hildalgo Mars. Like most women of the blood, her hair flowed long and dark as the deepest night. Her skin, pure porcelain, stood out against the onyx and vermillion colors of her formal dress and the suit of her mate at her side. Hildalgo was actually her second husband; the first had died too young to have fathered any children with her. His name, though mostly forgotten, had been Venise–he was the first Venusian to marry into their line. Later, to reform that tragically broken alliance, Rayna’s own father, Reikar, had married into their family as his sister assumed the throne of Venus.
What was remarkable about Rabelle was that another portrait of her stood across the hallway from this portrait. She was one of the few Warrior Queens, the ones that withstand living under the both the needs of the Crown and the powers and duties of the Senshi. Long, long ago, in a time of history every royal child knew of, but had yet to be told of in detail, the powers had been forced to split into a Queen and Guardian. There were exceptions to every rule, of course. Rabelle was a wondrous woman in this, yes, and in the trials she had faced and come through. In her time, a rebel house of their family, so distant that they weren’t truly of the blood any more, (though royal powers sometimes found their way into their children) had tried to lay claim to the throne. The last of the only three civil wars to scar the surface of Mars, this had also been the bloodiest and longest fought. In the end, however, the traitors had been dealt with and sent away, never to return if they valued their lives, and the House of Mars stood strong. It had, however, been a dark mark on the family’s long-lived legacy.
“When the Fuegojoyans were cast from Our Lady,” Roko continued over her reverie, using the more intimate term for their home planet, “they were given refuge on Mercury. Because of this, things have not been easy between our worlds for a long time. Reika fell in love with a nobleman of theirs, and had gone away with him. That a Princess of ours–the Crown Princess at that–would do such a thing to her family is very embarrassing, is it not?”
Indeed, Rayna could feel her own cheeks growing pink with it, and she gave a terse nod. “Then you see why Father had to lie? Why he had to tell the public that she was killed, rather than further this embarrassment?” Another nod. “... and why he is so angry with her?”
For a moment Rayna was still. Could she get so mad at one of her siblings as to deny them their place in her heart? She wasn’t certain, though a part of her, perhaps more honest with herself than most people were wont to be, told her that while she might not mean the words later, she could be so angry. Perhaps this was the way it was for their father? That in mind, the girl nodded and let her eyes drop to the hard marble floor beneath them, where the unsettling shadow of the dragon that was not there sent another shiver dancing the length of her spine.
Roko’s lips against her brow turned her attention away from this, and she gave him the slightest of smiles as she raised her lips to his in a childish peck. That warm grin of his returned, and Rayna’s heart was glad of it. He wrapped his arms around her. The embrace lasted a little longer than was normal or than the girl usually cared to be held, but this night she didn’t mind it. He let her go after awhile and stood up before he gave her a gentle nudge towards the dark hall that led to her quarters. “Goodnight little firebug.”
“Goodnight dear priest,” she mimicked, a sassy smirk of humor she barely felt graceing her childish lips before she braved the darkness and let that heavy oak door settle behind her with a noise that echoed off the walls of the smaller corridor. Rayna turned back towards the door, eyes going to the pale orange glow between door and threshold that indicated that Roko still stood on the other side. Gradually that light faded, and the barely audible scratch of his slippers against the tile dissipated completely. Left alone with nothing but her candle to light her way, for the cracks underneath her siblings’ doors were dark, and no noises came from behind them, Rayna began to make her hesitant way down the hall to where her room lay at very end. She wondered now at her choice.
There were eight rooms in this wing, total. Each one of them was small, barely big enough for the bed, desk and fireplace they were equipped with. While the royal children were privileged, they weren’t spoiled. Big rooms with lots of needless luxury were nice, but also served to make a child believe that that sort of decadence was a requirement to life, or so their teachers said. When they grew older, more luxurious places would be made for them, but only if they worked for them. Rayna, like most of her siblings, was happy with the small space. It wasn’t big enough to be lonely, nor small enough to be confining. It was comfortable, and personal, and all they really needed.
Since there were only four children of age to live in these quarters– or three, as Romere was soon to turn thirteen and thus move from this place–they were allowed to choose for themselves which room they’d have out of the ones left open. Rayna had chosen the room across from Ranfan’s at the back of the hallway. This meant she had to pass her brothers’ rooms at the forefront and then the four unoccupied rooms between the sets.
Passing the boys’ rooms wasn’t problematic. Nothing save her and her own shadow moved in the flickering orange light and she let a small amount of tension ease from her shoulders. The second set of rooms, too, was passed without a problem, and a little more of Rayna’s apprehension fled. Perhaps the dragon had been her imagination all along. That thought soothed her as she ignored the vague doubts of her own sanity at imagining such things. Everyone knew that she had visions in the fire, a thing that had marked her for Priestess-hood early on, and so she was used to “seeing things.” It was simply that things did not usually move out of the fire, or follow her about her day.
As these thoughts crossed her mind and fled with the speed that most thoughts come and go, her foot crossed the mark of the third set of rooms. That was when she heard it–a soft, slithering noise near the beginning of hallway. Rayna stopped in her tracks, vaguely noticing the cold beginning to creep through the thin material of her indoor slippers and up into the soles of her feet. “Who’s there?” she asked the darkness softly, well aware of her sleeping brethren and tempers she was likely to stir should she wake them for imagined spooks in the dark. The light danced about her merrily, as if it hadn’t a clue that something here was wrong, but more and more the cold clawed at Rayna’s heart as the dragon had Reika’s fake coffin earlier that day.
Violet eyes going wide with terror, Rayna thought her heart must have stopped for a breath-stealing moment as that idea fully registered in her emotionally taxed mind. Slowly, shaking hands causing the flame to sputter and dance as it fought against the breeze of its own creation, Rayna looked downward towards the blackened, sooty claws that felt cold as the hand of death where they had sunk through the fabric of her robes and into the soft flesh beneath. When the candle fell, guttering itself on the black marble below, a rational-minded Rayna would have expected darkness. Instead, light flared, engulfing her as a scream she wouldn’t realize until later was her own shattered the silence of the night.
Though hot white light tore at her eyes, they remained open. A black speck dancing in front of them took the form of the serpentine creature that had been stalking her all that day. His grin, she knew, would forever be burned into the back of her eyelids; just as the memory of the fire of his breath seeping down into her throat, scorching and searing her throat would stay engraved upon her memory. Then the vision broke, the flames tearing the blackness of the dragon apart before they themselves dissipated, leaving her vision full of spots and rainbows.
“Raye! Raye!” Someone was shaking her and, for the second time that night, Rayna snapped back to reality at the sound of someone calling her name. This time, however, there was a sick lurching as her sister’s hands clutched her shoulders, and a strange, hot sensation somewhere in the pit of her stomach.
Rayna gave a faint groan, and another, heavier set of hands settled over Ranfan’s, forcing the other girl to still her shaking. “Enough, Ran!” Romere snapped, his voice close enough that he had to be sitting behind her; there was still too much dancing light playing tag over Rayna’s vision for her to clearly make out the girl in front of her, much less turn to see her brother’s position. “Rayna,” he continued, voice rough for a thirteen-year-old. “Talk to us. What’s this about?”
“She’s got the mark, Romere,” Ranfan whispered. Rayna’s vision was slowly clearing, along with the confusion in her head. There was a strange red light in the hall that, when the light spots and scratches finally faded, allowed Rayna to make out the strangest expression she had ever seen on Ranfan’s face. The normally happy, if a little overly so, girl was frowning, and in her eyes Rayna could see the spark of both fear and anger. Though the first was vastly predominant over the latter, Rayna couldn’t help but think the second more important. Anger was something she had never seen from Ranfan, and hadn’t expected to ever be directed at her.
“The mark?” Romere asked, and it was then that Rayna remembered his affliction. She also noted in that moment that he was indeed sitting behind her; they were all on the floor, as it seemed she had fallen. Rayna stirred, their hands on her shoulders beginning to press too hard, and all talk was stilled as she got herself into a fully upright position. True enough, her whole right side protested the movement, and she knew she had indeed fallen without any knowledge that she should be catching herself. One delicate white hand rose to her head, a slight noise of pain issuing from her lips, when her brow furrowed in confusion. Her forehead was hot, almost painfully so.
The doors snapped open then, the noise of their connection with the wall echoing down the hall in waves to startle the three sitting there. Though Rayna winced at the sound, she turned with her siblings to face the guards that had come running. The light they brought with them made her wince away at first, but when her eyes cleared the peculiarity hadn’t stopped. Instead of rushing to meet them and see what the matter was, the guards stood still, staring down the hall at them with Ranmon among them. By all appearances the boy had run to get them when he’d heard his sister screaming, but now there was little they seemed capable of except gawking. Idly, Rayna wondered if the dragon had inflicted her with a second head when the pale red light reflected in the polished marble below caught her eye.
There were no scorch marks on the ground to indicate the fire that had consumed her, no soot on her dress or residual heat in the stone floor. No, there was no indication that anything had happened, save the brightly burning insignia on Rayna’s forehead: The symbol of the Guardian of Mars.
~~~**~~
“There is a new Guardian chosen on the Red Planet,” the thin, chime-like voice reported from beside the silver throne. The speaker shifted a little, settling more easily on the floor at the hem of her Lady’s dress, though she took great care not to soil the pure white silk with her fur. “Our Omens say she will be the final choice.”
The great lady nodded, her hair, almost a color to match her dress, floating about the throne as if born with a life of its own. “Then they’re all chosen.”
“Yes, I believe so,” the first speaker nodded, lifting a paw to groom it for a moment before continuing. “I had started to believe that Princess Ranfan would be the final choice, but our omens had indicated a more... talented Senshi for their department.”
“Luna,” The Lady chided gently, her voice a mere coo, “Be kind. Ranfan has her good qualities, though I agree that she’d make a better Queen than a Warrior, as it should be set now. Have you any report on why the Fires would make such a bold choice?”
“No, your majesty. The most that the Oracles are willing to admit is that before the first court could be called, a significant choice for each Senshi must be made.”
“Must?” A light smile lit upon the Lady’s lips, though only those close to her could see the innocent humor behind a mocking sort of expression.
“Must.” Luna repeated, a defiant nod emphasizing her word choice. Once more the cat returned to her paw, digging her tongue into the crevices between her toes and gnawing at a small knot in the black fur. The Lady waited patiently for Luna to work out her grooming, safe in the knowledge that the cat was simply putting her thoughts into order. Finally, Luna picked up her sentence. “I fear there is something dark brewing. I can’t say it isn’t anything more than idle speculation or worry, but something isn’t right.”
The Lady’s smile dipped and she gave a soft sigh. “I fear you are right, Luna. Something is coming. .... or, something is already here. Either way, the Oracles have given us a start with deflecting this ‘something,’ haven’t they? They have given us a clue in warning against the early formalization of the court. Now that Mars has been agreed to be in its final alignment, all the parties are ready.”
“Not quite, My Lady.” Another voice, masculine in nature, joined in the conversation. The speaker was a white haired cat that bore a great resemblance to Luna in the way that many cats of a similar breed look alike. As he padded across the room, eyes very un-feline in their focus on the pair rather than the quantity of shining objects and reflections scattered about the crystal-like throne room, he paused only to bump his forehead against his darker mate’s. Both the emblems on his head and Luna’s, shaped like crescent moons turned upon their backs, glowed briefly upon meeting, and stopped as soon as they were parted. He continued up towards the Queen’s throne then, hopping upon the armrest so that she could easily get to the note tucked, for easy transportation, into his silver and blue collar.
The Lady took the note from him with a nod of thanks and opened the paper to scan the words deliberately printed on it without any flourishes or extravagancies that would have marked a less urgent message from one of the courtiers. Her silvery eyebrows arched elegantly towards her own crescent moon emblem, though somehow the movement of skin did not distort the skin-bonded charm at all. After a moment she folded the note in hand and nodded. “Luna.”
The cat looked up from her resumed grooming instantaneously, red eyes trained to the face of her Lady. “Luna,” the Lady repeated, nodding to the little black cat. “Go to the clerk room and fetch eight of the best scribes. Have them sent to my office with enough of the official stationary, and ink of one planetary color each for several copies of a letter, if they were to ruin a page or two.”
Luna nodded and rose to complete her order as the Lady’s pale blue eyes turned to Artemis. “I hate to split you and your mate up, but I know you are the best I trainer I have, Artemis, and I must ask you to begin a long mission for me.”
“As you wish, My Lady.” Artemis inclined his head, already knowing that Luna would have his head if he refused a mission from Serenity.
“I wish you to carry missives to each kingdom in the system. These must be given to no other but the Queen and King of each planet, and shared by no one but them. Begin with Mercury and work your way through. When you come to your route’s end in Pluto, you must bring Senshi Pluto back with you. I have need of her.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
High Queen Serenity of the Silver System, Queen of the Moon Kingdom, and soon-to-be founder of the yet unknown Silver Millennium stood then, taking a look about her strangely deserted throne room. Things were going to get a lot more hectic now, she knew, but one must work with what life deemed to give. “You may find Luna and say your goodbyes after she has carried out her task. It will take a while to get the letter drafted and copied.”
Artemis stretched out his forelegs and inclined his head towards them in the approximation of a cat’s bow that he and Luna had long since worked out. He remained where he was, though, knowing his mate was still about her duties, and watched as the queen headed back towards her personal chambers. A movement caught his eye, and he couldn’t help but turn his head towards the door where he caught the faintest end of a rope of blonde hair as it ducked behind the double doors leading down the servants’ hallway.
His whiskers twitched in a cat’s laugh, though he could have as easily done so verbally. Rather than offend the Princess he knew was still listening with his amusement on her behalf, the cat jumped light as a feather to the ground and padded his way over. “Eavesdropping are we?” he teased as he rounded the corner to where young Serenity stood with her back against the wall as if she were some great espionage agent. Some agent she made, the cat couldn’t help but note to himself. Her skin, dress and hair shine like the full moon. Of course, with all the white and silver of this place, it could work as camouflage to someone unused to deciphering it.
Serenity jumped a little as he came after her, cheeks turning pink at her game being so rudely disrupted. The five-year-old huffed a little, her lips pouting to maximum potential while her chubby fists knotted against her waist. “Was not!” the girl denied with a slightly annoying whine to her voice. “I was... was....”
Artemis simply sat back on his haunches. As much as Bunny–a name only allowed by those close to her, for the girl did truly remind them of a droop-eared bunny with the way she fashioned her hair and the way she scrunched her nose at thing, like vegetables, which she didn’t like–could be an angel of a child, she could also be an amazing brat. Such was true of most children, he supposed; a good reason why he despaired of ever having any of his own. All the same, he continued to sit there as the Princess worked up a good excuse for snooping around outside her mother’s throne room when the woman had clearly sent away all other parties.
“I was... catching a butterfly!”
“Catching a butterfly.” the cat replied in a monotone voice. Had he a human’s brow it surely would have arched in question. His blue eyes roamed slowly about the closed-in hallway for any open windows. There were none, and he hadn’t expected there would be. “Of course you were.”
“I was!” she insisted, the pout forming deeper in her chipmunk cheeks. He knew in time the baby-fat would melt away, especially with how amazingly hyperactive the young princess was, but there were members of the court that feared she got her way with the menu a little too often. If the Princess wasn’t moderated more, every meal would consist of cake and candy. Of course, what little girl wouldn’t choose that?
Artemis allowed himself a soft chuckle, and thought he could almost hear Luna’s voice teasingly calling him a teddy bear. He knew he went easy on the princess a lot, but he couldn’t help it. Upset children weren’t something Artemis was built to deal with. He shook his head and got to his feet to bump his head against the five-year-old’s thigh, “Come along, Bunny-rabbit. The butterfly’s gone now and your nanny will be frantic.”
“You’re no fun Uncle Arty.” She whined a little, but came as told. It wasn’t too long before something shiny skittered across their path and sent her running away after it. Artemis sighed through his laughter and gave chase.
~~~**~~
The dancing, natural lights in the sky outside were usually enough to cheer up the blue-eyed princess, but tonight the miracle of rainbows’ foggy light-creatures held no joy for her. Tonight her father lay dying.
A dull, raspy coughing from the bed brought her sharp eyes back into focus and the girl pulled herself from the window to cast her gaze upon the bed once more. Her mother had been called to the throne room on business from the High Queen and so it was left up to six-year-old Amiru to take care of the man on his death bed. The doctor had long admitted, regretfully, that there was nothing more he could do for his King.
Amiru slid from the window seat, straightening the floor length skirt of her dress with an unconscious gesture before she strode across the room to his bedside. The deep blues and icy whites of the royal chamber, a place not even the Prince and Princess were normally allowed, only seemed to heighten the sick man’s pallor now, and Amiru felt her heart drop more heavily in her chest. For all of her six years of life her father had always been a strong, happy man, so full of vitality that he had seemed invincible. Now that shining armor was gone, leaving behind a thin, brittle skeleton of what had been. Another lung-tearing cough shook his form like the last leaf that struggled desperately against the ravages of winter winds. Just as surely as she knew that leaf would soon be blown away, so too would her father’s life fly free upon the wind of life into the Nirvana beyond. Not even the mention of that wonderful place he had awaiting him could lift his daughter’s spirit, not now.
Silently, the princess lifted the heavy clay pot on the bedside table to pour a glass of cold water for her father. When she had it settled, the girl allowed herself to sit on the bed and lean close to him as she pressed it to his lips. The man drank gratefully, not even batting an eye when some of the liquid accidentally slipped his lip and rolled rivers down his chin and throat. Amiru offered a soft apology, lifting the hem of her skirt in an unladylike fashion to dry his skin.
As she leaned in close, King Arik’s arms slowly pushed themselves from the confines of the warm, heavy blankets he’d been piled with. The loose skin that dangled there was the skin of a much older man–as thin as paper and streaked with deep blue veins that were so fragile looking, Amiru was half afraid to touch him for fear of breaking him. Still, these skeletal arms insisted upon wrapping around her tiny form, and Arik drew his daughter against his bony chest.
Minutes went by with nothing more than the raspy, rustling breath between them. Despite the downy blankets and quilts, Amiru was certain she could feel his bones pressing into her arms and sides, and when she turned her face into his neck she could feel the pulse of his blood without having to search for it.
“Daddy!” she wasn’t certain the cry had come from her, for she had told herself she wouldn’t, but the childish voice and anguish were all too recognizable as her own. Unable to hold the emotional dam any longer, a flood of tears burst forth to wet the man’s neck once more. Her form, thin and small as it was, shook his with the force of her sobs as her hands clenched in the blankets and bedclothes he wore about him.
Arik’s hands moved as best they could along her back, trying to pet her to ease her discomfort, but the feel of his weak, cold grip where before the hand would have been firm and warm only seemed to enhance the child’s misery. “Why?” she sobbed, one harmless fist thumping against his chest. “Don’t leave me! Please! I-I’ll do anything! Just don’t... don’t... ”
“...My child,” Arik finally spoke, and had Amiru looked up at him she would have seen the tears of his own sparkling in the familiar blue depths of his eyes. She didn’t, however, and only knew by the pained tone how much this hurt him. Indeed, even talking took so much strength from him anymore, but that was a concept she was too young and naive to grasp. “I know it’s hard. I don’t want to go, and I wish I didn’t have to.”
“Why do you have to!” Her voice was muffled in his shoulder, and slurred by tears, but that didn’t stop it from being understandable to the man who knew her so well. “Who says!”
“The Gods say, Amiru. Everyone has their time, Little Princess, and this is mine. But know that I will not always be gone. Whether or not you can see me, or touch me, or feel my presence... I will be with you.”
The quiet whisper of his voice still held some trace of the familiar man she’d known all these years. Somehow it helped to quiet her tears and still her body. Slowly, the princess regained her breath and lifted her head enough to dry her eyes with one white knuckled fist before she pressed her cheek once more into the sick King’s shoulder. “How will you be with me if I can’t see you?” she asked finally, her quiet voice jarring the silence she hadn’t noticed settling into the room... a strange silence.
For a long moment, Amiru lay there waiting for an answer, trying to brush aside the cold creep from her forehead that told her something had changed in her surroundings. “Daddy?” The question was soft, barely audible, but she knew the man would answer her call; he had to answer.
When he didn’t, the cold dread slipped further into her body, wrapping a cool blanket about her heart and forcing her muscles to shift. The little girl slowly pulled herself away from the chest she’d been huddled against, trying not to feel the stiffness of the arms around her that didn’t want to budge.
Feel them she did, however, and Amiru stopped struggling. A shaking, only too similar to her father’s own leaf-like dance, began to engulf her body and the girl went once more into the grip of those arms, her cheek settling against the corpse’s boney shoulder.
Eventually, someone had come along to save her from her father’s cadaver. As scared as she was of the stiff, freezing shell of the man she had once known, all parting from it did was throw the young princess back into another fit. In the end, she’d had to be carried out bodily by one of the guards, and put back into her room... alone. Alone with only one cold, snapped order from the insignia-bearing man who, with the corpse’s creation, was now the King of Mercury. “Still your tears, the kingdom looks to us for strength!”
Alone in the dark, its mated symbol glowed a desolate blue.
~~~**~~
The barest of dull thunks was all that gave away her position. Brightly plumed birds with hoarse calls and long, sharp beaks didn’t even stir as the two-legged creature ran through their nesting branches, nor did any protest even on the occasion that she shook a branch gently beneath her weight. A large, spotted feline with jagged teeth and watchful golden eyes wasn’t even inclined to blink as what should have seemed like perfect prey scampered right through the tree. Instead, the creature looked up at the passing wild girl and gave a derisive lick of her paw as if to say how unimpressed she was with the two-legged ability to walk as steadily in a tree as she would have upon the ground. Cats, large or small, were a generally contemptuous lot and so not easily impressed by others, even those they agreed to respect as the rulers of these lands.
For her part, the girl didn’t seem to notice. Her deep, tree brown hair was strung through with a mix of green and blue beads of clay and wood, braided and tangled into a series of complicated knots that took some form of strange, natural fashion. Bound tightly, the beads didn’t clink to give her away, just as the matching bracelets and anklets on each of her appendages were bound tightly enough to keep from making noise as she ran about. The soles of her feet, stiffened into a hard leather from years of life without shoes, barely showed a dint or scratch even as she ran over the roughly textured limbs.
Coming to a stop straight out of her dead run, the lithe eight-year-old princess let herself drop off the end of a branch to land surely on the soft loam beneath. Next her knees sunk into the heady mixture of soft earth, and then her hands. Crawling close to the ground, a small part of her brain noticed and appreciated the strong scent of it. Most of her attention was on her prey, however.
In the next moment, the princess came up to the short cliff-edge over-looking the vast expanse of the Titan River. On the other side, barely visible as a thin sliver across the haze of slate blue water, she could see the towering spikes of Io Castle. Io was one of the few pronounced cities upon the surface of the planet, and even from this distance it showed. From her position, the princess could imagine that Io’s shore was a giant serpent slithering along the surface of the water, with the great castle’s spires as its head, poking up to catch the air.
Going between the snake and her own side of the river were small spots (water bugs, she fancied) where ferries and fishing canoes dotted the water’s surface. These the princess paid little attention to, for her target was on this side. In fact, the slight pulse from her forehead told her she was near. A moment later the hard touch of wood, not quite painful but enough to keep her from moving, prodded the back of her neck. “You’re being reckless, Lita.”
“How?” the girl growled in return, rolling onto her back when the pressure lightened. Her emerald eyes turned stormy, even as her sister’s matching ones danced with an unnatural light. Literi, referred to commonly as “Lita,” didn’t mind the touch of cold earth against her mostly bare skin and so chose to stay on the ground for now. A large, hairy tarantula made its way up over the sudden warm object blocking its path, and Literi paid it no mind when it chose to pause a moment over her stomach.
Had one not known whom these girls were by the matching hunter green marks upon their foreheads, one still would have guessed that they were siblings in how very much they looked alike. Some thought the similarities uncommon even for sisters, thus earning Literi’s second nickname, “Nanari Jr.” The elder sister by three years, Nanari’s eleven-year-old body was only a few inches taller than Literi’s, and her hair longer in kind. The girls even dressed alike, making certain their leather tied loin clothes were made of similarly pelted doe skin and decorated in matching beadwork. Soon this would have to change, as Nanari’s body was finally beginning to develop; soon she would need to add a chest wrap to her wardrobe and offer the first sort of rift between them.
“You shouldn’t let the power guide you,” Nanari allowed the end of her plainly carved staff rest in the dirt, leaning heavily on it for a moment. Her free hand came up to twirl a loose braid around one long finger as she shrugged to soften her words. “Aunt Narou would have given you a few bruises if she caught you.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Literi protested, her voice bordering on a whine. Lips turning into a pout, the girl crossed her arms over her bare, flat chest and brushed the spider there. The eight legged creature reared up two of its legs in warning. Unwilling to risk another close brush with death, it scampered off of her and back into the surrounding brush.
“That doesn’t matter, you have to learn to control it,” the elder sibling reinforced. “I’m not trying to be mean, I’m trying to save you her beating it into your hide.”
“As if she won’t anyway.” Literi wasn’t letting herself be consoled, but she climbed to her feet and shook herself to throw off most of the dirt. “She said the best way for us to learn lessons is to have them scared into us. She’s a monster!”
“I’m so glad you think that,” a sharp voice cut in. Both girls winced immediately before paired green eyes turned up towards a tree limb partially hidden by the fall of leaves and vines around them. The woman that rested there in a comfortable crouch grinned and it was not a pleasant gesture, rather reminding one of a tiger with cornered prey than any form of merriment. Like a tiger, the woman was trimmed for fighting from the top of her black braided hairdo, to her smallest, dirt coated leather toe. Like the girls she was barefoot, and a loin cloth covered her lower regions. Unlike them, two triangles of cloth held together with a brace of braided cord covered the two tiny breasts upon her chest. Still, there was no doubting the familial resemblance in their faces.
Even were that not there, their relationship would have been known. The insignia of Jupiter glowed strong upon her brow as well, marking her position within the royal house. “She meant no disrespect, Senshi Jupiter.” Nanari nodded her head to her Aunt, trying to soothe the woman through formal word and manners.
“Don’t speak for the girl, Nanari.” Narou cast an emerald glance to her elder niece, then looked back towards the younger. “If you think I’m a monster, Literi, then so be it. You’ll thank me for this one day.”
Literi snorted, her eyes cutting off to the side. She didn’t even look up when Narou’s eyes narrowed, and beside her Nanari shifted uneasily. Tension filled the silence between the trio, multiplying until one felt they should duck into the water in order to breath. After several long, insufferable minutes of this, Narou stood and decended lightly from her perch. Taking her own staff in hand she nodded, and set her lips into a hard line. “Nanari, give your sister the staff and leave us. Tell your parents we won’t be back for the rest of the week.”
“Yes, Aunt.” Nanari nodded more deeply. Without a word she pushed the staff towards her sullen sister. Literi’s eyes, accusing and hurt, held Nanari’s own beseechingly. No help was given, however, and the small girl found herself taking the roughly hewn staff with a deep sense of betrayal. It seemed as Nanari drifted into the forest beyond so too did the rift between them open prematurely. Certainly the small Princess was cold as she returned her attentions back towards their taskmaster aunt.
“Stay sharp!” The order slapped across the second Princess of Jupiter’s face as harshly as a willow branch whip. She growled slightly and pressed her hands into the dirt again to pull herself back up. Narou had taken her deep into the jungle where people were few and far between. Even if there had been more company than the animals (who knew better than to push their luck with these two humans) none would have dared to interrupt the training the Senshi Jupiter was giving her growing protégée.
Three days of hard pushing, scavenging and lectures had drawn the young Princess to the last of her strengths and further, yet the elder woman continued to demand more. “I’m tired!” Literi cried out, dropping back into the dust of the little practice area they’d cleared a few days before. Sniffling a little as unbidden tears rose to her eyes, the Princess allowed her forehead to drop against the ground and her arms and legs drew around her. All the while, she continued to shout and a shaking in her voice implied the tears threatening her vision. “My legs hurt, my arms hurt; my whole body hurts! Let me stop! Let me stop!”
Two feet appeared in her line of vision, hard and dusty from their lifelong nakedness, and Literi stiffened. The thought, horrible as it seemed, crossed her mind that the woman was going to kick her. The motion never came, but a terrible silence reigned between them that not even the insects dared to lift. Literi sniffled slightly, and finally began to unwind her arms a little. Timid as a mouse venturing out into a cat’s territory, the Princess allowed herself to blink her eyes clear and travel the long distance up to her aunt’s face. What she saw there was worse than any anger or abuse the woman could have dealt her.
Disappointment and disgust bathed over the young girl’s body in waves, like an ocean lapping upon the shore of a minuscule island. Surely the water would swallow the land beneath it in time, and so Literi dropped her gaze into the sand again. A red wash flushed across her cheeks as an acute embarrassment settled into the very core of her being. Never had anyone looked at her like that; to have it come from the greatest warrior and second most influential person on the planet was even worse.
“Lita,” The crisp voice came a moment later, “you cannot stop. That mark upon your forehead signifies the great power you will one day be expected to uphold. You will be called upon to be strong for your people, to lead them despite your own fears or pain. Your enemies will want to hurt you, and they will not let you give up so easily. Do you wish to bow before them and kiss their feet while they plunder and destroy our home?”
Humbled, the girl could do little more than squeeze her eyes shut against the returning tears and shake her head. Clearly, this answer wasn’t satisfactory to the elder Senshi.
“Good. Frankly, I’m starting to wonder why the powers chose you at all. You give up too easily, and your anger is generally misplaced. You’d rather cook or clean or play with the flowers than pay attention to your studies and training. Never mind that what I’m trying to teach you here will likely save your and your sister’s lives. No, this isn’t important at all. You should go back to the palace and relinquish the power to one of your younger siblings. Perhaps the baby will have a spine.”
A few half-heard sobs quaked through Literi’s body. Her arms drew close around her again and she bent to hide her face in them. While a part of her began to get angry again, the majority was just sorry that she’d pushed her aunt so far. “I-I’m sorr-rr-rry,” that part of her stuttered, the sobbing shaking her voice and body even harder.
“Yes. Yes, you are,” The woman agreed in a much harder manner than Literi could have imagined. “Even now, you refuse to take this standing up, instead cowering at my feet like a beaten dog. Get up.”
It was a few moments, and Narou offered no help, but eventually Literi managed to get to her feet and stood before her, hands shaking at her side with her eyes focused on the woman’s feet. A single calloused hand moved to her chin and guided Literi’s head up a little. Even more slowly, Literi’s eyes rose to meet her elder’s. The cold she’d expected was strangely absent, replaced by a guarded sort of warmth. “Finished?”
“Yes, Senshi Jupiter,” Literi swallowed her own tears and nodded. Her voice was distant and cool, but that didn’t seem to bother her aunt. Instead of offering an explanation or apology, the woman picked up her bo staff and nodded to the girl.
“Let’s continue, then.”
~~~**~~
Sunlight filtered golden through the russet-and honey coloured trees whose branches arched above the pathways behind the Venusian Palace. Bushes were planted between the tree trunks tried to keep the passersby from wandering off the paths, but that didn’t seem to bother the children playing there. Their giggles and whispers were easily overheard by the palace workers and residents that happened to be outside that day, but none paid them too much mind. In truth, it might have been hard to find the children.
Despite the noise they were making, all three of the young royalty blended perfectly into the gold and garnet foliage about them. Their hair, ranging in color from the eldest’s russet, to sunshine blonde, and the youngest’s platinum gold, blended in with the leaves as their gold tinged skin and brassy clothing blended with the grass and tree trunks. In truth, only their eyes could have given them away. Two of them boasted identical, laughing blue eyes that sparkled with such joy in life that few could remain angry or unhappy around either of the pair. The third, the eldest, had eyes of a deep purple hue, nearly black, that had a tendency to leave people uneasy or afraid. It wasn’t that the boy who possessed them had any negative will towards his people, only that those on Venus not normally in the presence of their family still weren’t used to the idea of dark eyes. Such features weren’t common on this planet, only more recently seen now that Mars and Venus had royal ties to one another.
Prince Wiran, the boy whose dark eyes were currently peeping out from underneath one of the golden hedges, looked more like his father than most of his other siblings. His features, now lined in baby fat, would one day be finely chiseled and square with a good, strong jaw. Currently short, the large portions of his hands and feet and wide features belied a growth spurt yet to come and his hair would likely darken even more drastically than it already had. For all his visible Martian heritage, Wiran had not taken that family’s temper to heart as a few of his lighter colored siblings, such as the other boy out with them that evening, had.
On either side of Wiran’s eyes, identical sets appeared in the bushes. The practiced eye could make out the differences between them, but even that took a great deal of effort. The owner of the right-hand pair giggled–a high-pitched sound too bubbly to have been a typical male’s—and a delicate white hand flew to cover the pink lipped mouth beneath them. “Shhh!” the left-hand pair’s mouth chided, though a speckle of violet bubbled within them as they danced in laughter. White-blond curls graced the top of this set, hiding the fact that its lashes were not quite so thick or long as its seemingly matched set; his hand, much rougher than his sister’s, brushed the bangs from his face. “Miran! We gotta be quiet!”
The Princess stuck her tongue out. “I know that! Its my plan, remember?”
“Guys,” Wiran whined, lips pouting lightly. “Stop fighting.”
“We’re not,” the twins responded with chilling timing. Their identical eyes glanced at one another, then sobered. What they were waiting for seemed to be quite out of sight, for no one was along the path. Prince Eren tucked his arms underneath his delicate chin, so like his sister’s, and tried to keep from looking too bored. Boredom about this place, and in this company, was never a good thing. The least mischievous of the trio Eren, when left to his own devices, didn’t willingly express a need to be entertained as much as the others. On the other side of Wiran, Miran sat contemplating this as she waited with her siblings for the pair of feet they knew would come. It was more and more difficult to talk the boys into her schemes, as humorous as they were in the end. The seven-year-old knew she had to make it good, or else this might be the last. Raising her hand once more, Miran batted irritably at the soft yellow bangs nearly masking the golden mark upon her brow. It had been most of a year since the power had chosen her, but the girl had yet to feel anything different about the responsibilities her teachers and parents said were now hers. Warren, her elder brother by sixteen years and the named heir to the Venusian throne, said that she would begin to feel it after a time. She had believed him then, but was beginning to doubt.
“I don’t see her,” Wiran finally complained, his lips twitching into an irritated scowl that Miran had long come to associate with impending mutiny. Her back tensed a little as her mind rushed for something to do. It was just then that there was a snap behind them. Before either of the three could fully register it, hands pressed down into all three of their backs and the children jumped with shouts and yelps of surprise.
Bold laughter greeted their terror, and the three turned to find two of their elder siblings laughing behind them. Whesley, a fourteen-year-old stick figure with cold black eyes and chilling white hair, grinned like the idiot most everyone took him to be. His family knew that he was indeed more of an idiot savant, only inclined to apply himself to a subject when he wished. When he did, however, he excelled beyond anyone’s wishes. Beside him stood Michelle, one of the fastest rising Priestesses at the Temple of Aphrodite. Her long raven hair was again a strange note among the Venusians, but her delicate features and gracefully shaped blue eyes made her more exotic than an oddity. Despite being dressed in a Priestess’ full regalia, Michelle carried herself with no decorum at the moment, only hiding her laughter behind a single hand.
“Not funny!” Miran huffed, pouting at the both of them as she sat up.
“I disagree, little sister,” Whesley smirked, his slur on her title giving it a teasing note. “Very funny.”
“Was not,” Eren agreed with his twin, glaring up at the elder siblings. “We weren’t doing anything to you!”
“Weren’t you?” Michelle’s smile didn’t dissipate, though she let her hand drop back down to fold into the large, long sleeves of her robe. “You’re waiting along this path to surprise someone, I’m certain. Whom else would it be but us, innocently on our way from summons?”
“Warren,” the three answered in chime, lips pouting in a such a similar fashion that it had to have been a familial trait. Wiran, the more complacent of the three, moved to actually sit up now and began to dust the front of his robes off where they’d been sullied by the grass and dirt. Miran still sat with her arms crossed, holding herself in defiance against the siblings.
“Warren?” Whesley’s eyes lit up. “You mean he isn’t in the throne room already?”
“The throne room?” The frown on Miran’s face disappeared almost instantaneously as this new information sparked a deeper curiosity. Whesley and Michelle exchanged knowing looks. The latter gave a graceful shrug.
“This is why I am in my dress robes. A delegate from the Moon Kingdom arrived yesterday. There is something in his message that the King and Queen asked the Priesthood to investigate.”
Miran nodded her understanding, though the small touch of information only left her longing for more. After all, it was a rare day when a missive from the High Queen was questioned as much as this must have been. Not only that, but Michelle herself being called upon to serve her own family in a fashion which made her temporarily forget her familial bonds was a thing that the Priesthood was normally loathe to do. Family was of grave importance to Venusians, but a Priestess of royal blood had to choose between one path or the other lest she be swayed by her ties.
“Speaking of which, I should be headed on. When we heard you three, I couldn’t help but stop... however...”
“We understand,” Wiran nodded. He gave his sister a smile and all four them bowed to her when she moved to slip through the hedge and back to the path beyond. Having decided to stay, Whesley settled down in the grass with his younger siblings. Miran let herself relax now that they knew Warren was likely not to be coming as they’d thought. She turned herself instead to combing the leaves out of her hair with her fingers as her brothers turned their eyes towards her. At first, the Princess didn’t notice, but slowly the eyes upon her got her attention.
“So, he wasn’t coming,” Wiran said softly. He didn’t voice his thoughts on the issue, but his tone was clear enough–Wiran’s confidence in her leadership had gone from questioned to broken. The blue eyes of her own twin echoed as much, even as Eren said nothing. The two boys looked at one another, before they got to their feet. Miran started to follow, but their combined gaze stopped her again. As one, Wiran and Eren headed out through the hedge and to the path beyond.
It seemed like such an insignificant event, but Miran knew better. She’d long since taken control of the trio since Whesley had come of age and taken his place among the Scholars. At first everything had gone perfectly, but more and more her plans had come out wrong. This was simply the last drop in the barrel. “Well,” Whesley said beside her, one boney hand moving to cover her knee in a familiar manner. “That was certainly pleasant wasn’t it?”
The sardonic sort of humor normally worked on Miran, but now all she could think of was her failure as a leader. The symbol marking her forehead throbbed, a dull premonition of things to come. She’d felt this before, at similar situations through the years, but had never fathomed its meaning. Now, made clear in this sudden, strange sense of loss, Miran knew that she had felt a touch of the responsibility that would come later in life. She would be expected to lead her people in war and hardship. Yet, she found herself unable to properly lead a small group of her own blood. For the first time this power that had long filled her young body was strange to her, and she wondered if she’d truly be able to fulfill her destiny, or if the power would run to one of her younger siblings as it had done to her upon her birth?
~~~**~~
It had been a long, mentally and physically exhausting journey. Artemis had gone from planet to planet, palace to palace, handing out missives and giving long explanations. His “overnights” on each planet had turned to week (or several weeks) stays and the travel between places could take months at a time. Even with the ship’s onboard Jump Drive, the distance between the planets near the end of their system was too great. On top of these setbacks, Artemis had to admit that he’d only added to his problems when he’d refused to skip the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter. It was hard not to pass the remains of what had been Mau, the planet he and Luna had escaped from in their kitten-hood. It had been destroyed by an evil whose name had fallen into taboo years before the final war on Mau’s surface, and no true child of their species would be able to miss a chance to see their planet and pay respects to what had been. Time had healed what bruises his young mind had acquired from the experience, however, and so it didn’t darken his voyage too much.
Now that he was leaving Pluto’s atmosphere, Artemis stretched himself out, long blond hair brushing the back of his legs before his form began to shift. Moments later a white cat settled into the chair he’d abandoned, and Artemis turned his shoulders back to groom his side. He’d not had much time to enjoy his cat form, a nuisance of diplomatic work. While those of the Moon Palace respected his animal nature, not many elsewhere were too familiar with the thought of human speech coming from a cat–or with the idea of taking a talking cat seriously. Because of this, he had confined himself to humanoid form so that he would not have to deal with the questions his feline self would ultimately raise. The Plutonian Princess, however, was long familiar with the oddities of the universe and Artemis himself; before her alone he had no reason to hide.
“Artemis.” Sometimes it was unsettling how the thought of Setserin generally brought her presence. The cat tried not to let this show as he turned his pristine face towards the door she’d just come through. The mysterious child of Pluto was undoubtedly gorgeous, even at fifteen. Her black hair, tinted a slight green in the light of the cabin, was tied back into a bun at the nape of her neck, with a few wisps left to frame that delicately shaped jaw. The woman’s large, uneasy red eyes matched the dress she was currently wearing, and seemed to look deep into Artemis’s very soul. “I was going over the missive the Queen sent with you. Is she certain she wishes to do this?”
The cat sighed. Dropping his head upon his fore paws, Artemis let his gaze wander for a moment before turning a rather resolute look upon the Princess. He’d been asked that question so many times it was beginning to be unbearable; he was only glad that they didn’t know the real reasons prolonging this decision. “Yes, Setserin, the Queen is certain. In seven years a court will be formed of the Senshi.”
His bored tone would have discouraged any other from questioning him, at least at that moment, but Setserin was not deterred. Stepping further into the cabin, the Princess shut the door behind her before moving to take the seat directly across from Artemis’s own. “It goes against all of our set traditions. The Senshi are supposed to protect their homelands, not the High Queen’s daughter.”
“Setserin, I know that as well as you do,” Artemis chided. He raised his head again, eyes fixing once more upon the princess with a tired irritability that was certainly not his wont with anyone he was less comfortable with. Her, however, he had no qualms in showing his true emotion towards. “However, times change. Has the Queen not put a stop to the wars between the planets? Has she not better organized the defense of trade routes between the planets, and lowered tariffs and taxes all around?”
“She has,” Setserin agreed without reluctance.
“So, when a woman so obviously chosen by the Gods to be a great Queen and leader–a woman who has already changed many ingrained traditions–decides that another change must be made, why should we question it? The Queen wishes to create stronger ties between all her solar system. It’s a wonder that no one before thought of this. If the Senshi come together in a form of System security, rather than secular, the social tension between kingdoms should relax even further. It’s as much a test of trust as it is a smart political move.”
“I suppose,” Setserin frowned. There was obvious doubt there, the sort of deep grained distrust that all the royals had expressed toward this plan. Traditions were held so dear to heart, it was going to be a fight to change them, even further than the one the white cat had already fought. Still, he hoped the Princesses–at least the four who were to be in the main court–could see past their political differences and get along. It was going to be a strange journey.
Artemis turned his attention towards the porthole of the great spaceship Moon’s Rising. There was hardly anything but deep ink and white star blots to see, but he imagined that he could see a deeper shade of black out there, moving and coiling in the chilling depths of space. What was this blackness the Oracles had all spoken of? On this point, even his own feline curiosity abandoned him to be replaced by a fear he knew laid buried in the asteroid belt of Mars.
~~~**~~
That a seven-year-old had been chosen was not an issue. That a seven-year-old had been chosen in such a dramatic fashion was an issue, but not in so bad a light as one might first assume. The priests, though saddened by the thought of losing the prodigy they’d expected to soon have in their midst, were overjoyed by the omens her choosing seemed to indicate. Everyone seemed to be in agreement that the vision-dragon was a symbol of luck, were they to accept the repositioning of power in the royal house–not that they would have much choice about it. Undoing what the Gods had undoubtedly decided for themselves was not something the royals could order be undone; not without causing a religious rebellion among the common folk. It seemed only right, then, that the crown be passed on to Ranfan, as she was next in line and the last chosen Senshi.
None of this really mattered to Rayna, whose only concern at the moment was that the dragon had ceased to come to her and that she was at rest. They had let her truly rest eventually, after she’d retold the account of that day’s visions more times than she cared to remember it, and even tried to let her sleep late. Rayna didn’t sleep, though.
Three days later, just as she usually did, Rayna woke when the sun was barely more than a grey line on the horizon to find a bird cawing at the single window of her bedroom. She turned, inspecting the crow that had come to perch on the slight window sill offered on the other side of the glass. Crows were in vast number at the castle, and all the religious temples on Mars, but somehow this seemed more important. Was her life now to be nothing but omens? Rayna couldn’t help a small sigh for this, nestling her cheek further into the pillow beneath her. “What do you want?” The child sulked, watching the bird as it bobbed its head about. She possessed no deep knowledge of animals, much less birds in particular, but the girl couldn’t help feeling as if it were taking a better look at her. “I’m not opening the window, if that’s it.”
The crow tapped at the glass again and Rayna leveled an amethyst glare at him. Another harsh cry from the bird mingled with a slight rapping at her door, and at first Rayna didn’t notice. Eventually it broke into her mind, and she started. That, too, was becoming annoying quite fast. “Come in,” she said softly, knowing that no one save their maids and her immediate family would come to her door at any time other than an emergency.
The door opened without a squeak, and Ranfan’s curly-haired visage peeked through the crack. Rayna sat up a little, leaning back on one unclothed white elbow and didn’t bother to draw the blanket up over her nude, flat chest. Nudity was one of the things not censored on Mars, at least between those of the same gender, and thus Rayna felt no shame of it now. Remembering the strange anger in Ranfan’s eyes the night before, Rayna truly couldn’t get herself to speak at all.
Her elder sister stepped inside and shut the door dutifully behind her. For a moment the girl of eight stood with her hands against the cool wood, her eyes lowered in thought. The two were almost like twins, in body and bond, for they had been best friends for as long as anyone could remember and rarely separated from one another willingly. It was only now that Rayna felt she could really see the differences between one she had begun to think of as an extension of herself.
Ranfan’s hair, natural curls carefully tamed into loose waves, flowed around her and tapered off into an easy slope about her waist. Generally the bangs were just held back by a ribbon colored to match her dress, but today Ranfan had let them flow naturally to cup the face that was shockingly similar to Rayna’s own. So too were the eyes, when Ranfan finally looked up towards the girl still perched upon her bed. Though a few shades darker, Ranfan’s seemed to glow with the same seriousness that was more commonly found in Rayna’s. Another feeling of foreboding slipped into Rayna’s still form and she found her lips pursing a little.
“You should probably let him in,” Ranfan said softly, her eyes looking to the bird still waiting at the window. “They don’t take kindly to being shut out, and they’re always rather drawn to...”
From the way she trailed off, the reason behind it wasn’t too hard to figure out, at least not to one who knew her well. “Oh Ranfan…” Rayna murmured softly, moving a hand to reach out towards her sister. The other didn’t pull away, which was a good sign. After a moment she moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed.
Ranfan gave her a wry smile, “The power never wanted me, but since I’m older and a fire-starter they presented me to it instead of you.”
“And I was supposed to be a priestess,” Rayna continued softly. For a long moment the girls looked at one another, then Ranfan drew the blankets back and slipped under them with her sister. She let her hair mix with Rayna’s straight black mass and they both lay on their backs to stare up at the cloth covered roof of the younger sister’s bed canopy. Slowly Ranfan’s hand moved to find Rayna’s and their fingers entwined as the signal and its familiar, warming heat spread upon both their brows.
“You’ll be the Queen,” Rayna said softly as what her change of status fully meant for her sister finally occurred to her. She offered a gentle squeeze to Ranfan’s hand and was rewarded with one in kind. Though she couldn’t see it, the girl beside her nodded in turn.
“And you shall be my Warrior,” Ranfan said softly. “I always knew that the power wasn’t mine to keep. I don’t know how I knew, but I did... It warms my heart to think of you at my side always, my sister.”
“I’ll do my best for you,” Rayna promised, though a small, cold feeling in her heart belied a feeling that this ideal they shared wouldn’t be so easy to keep. In truth, the dragon still played upon her mind, and while she longed to ask her sister what she thought of it, Rayna found that once more her tongue had frozen on the matter. Instead she kept this coldness to herself, feeling that her sister had had more than enough disappointment for now, especially when Rayna couldn’t be sure what this new feeling was meant to be about. This feeling of leisure wouldn’t last long, that was for certain, but for now it was her hope, laying with her sister, safe in the world they always knew, and content in the delusion that she would serve at her sister’s side for the rest of her days.
