Silver Millennium: Moon Kingdom
I checked my reflection in the mirror. I was taken aback for a moment or two. She had my face, but her hair was ebony. I blinked then my familiar features returned. Was I imagining it?
I done up my odango and raced downstairs. He would be here soon. Mother just had to accept our decision to wed earlier than planned.
After midnight, we would elope, the Solar Priest Helios would bind us on Elysian, and then we’d consummate our love on the planet Terra.
The stars were so resplendent that night, Romance, desire and perfume in the air – the wine flowed,
The feline shape shifters in hot pursuit of their quarry noticed footsteps in the night, silent and desperate, as they bounded along the white marble colonnade after these would-be assassins,
But the Ginzuishou would find them and deal with their betrayal; these men of Terra would pay a heavy price indeed in the eyes of the kamis,
Within the ballroom the celestial princesses, warriors of light looked on, hearts aflame with thoughts of love, to be extinguished much too soon,
Flowers in bloom, shy glances and confident winks by handsome suitors moving in on their intended dance partners, but the shadows lurk within courtyard alcoves biding their time as the roasted meats, fish and vegetables and other fair was being served,
Hand in hand, floating on air, kisses in wait, embraces the reward of lovers to be, it was a miracle of chance and true hearts – first kiss and first blood, the clouds swirl above the palace,
But the Terran sphere was about to darken as was all we knew – an eclipse that brings with it the age of uncertainty, where I must depart on the wings of death,
As skirts flounced and shy eyes lifted to bright eager ones, the music began to play, but it would be the last opportunity for these couples to touch one another in the music of the moment, and taste intimacy one last time, for the darkness would not be denied its sacrificial rite,
Adolescent girls in their finery, dawn’s lost children, silks and sashes of many colors catching the eye, lover’s soft skin and strong muscle – dreams to be gathered and scattered in fields unknown,
hair worn high in swirls of elegance or flowing like a cascade of liquid gold, ebony, chestnut or ruby to their tiny waists on display – soon to be violated by monsters and slaughtered, darkened fabric drenched in virgin blood - the cello ceases to play,
Hearts seeking love and dreams to be fulfilled, the Moon Kingdom was shining like a beacon this magic night, but like the days of summer, much too soon it would fade,
Yet the youth were the offerings to a cruel and bloodthirsty mistress, Metalia, would not be assuaged until the moon city lay in waste with no survivors,
Upon the spacious dance floor, the ballroom gowns of queens and princesses who were in attendance swirled as their men folk moved with skill and aplomb in harmony with their partners, fingers entwined, only then had the heralds received the news of swarms of enemy ships moving in on the Moon City on the jealous Princess Beryl’s command,
lovers sought the shadows of the palace to make love one last time before the enemy beat down their doors and put them to the sword but most would take their own lives before it got to that point – forgotten numbers adding to the body count, but their love would never be forgotten,
Love lives on far beyond the shroud, in the gentle rains, the singing of the birds at dawn, and the smiles of children at play in future eras,
At least they had enough time to say good-bye – lovers know they shall find each other across the canyons of time, so this sustains them – tears are jeweled seeds,
The Grand Lunarian Ball, the last celebration before all went to hell, was in full swing. Lady Fate would play her bloody hand; time halts as all hold their breath, at world’s ending, a pillow for the child’s head to rest.
“Tonight has been a special night for Endymion and me. We’ve danced the night through, indulged in a little wine, and talked with our friends. Oh, I love him so… The Shitennou are helping us make a discrete exit, and off we will go within the hour, a letter is waiting for mother on my bed. What was that sound, oh, no… the Dark Kingdom has struck, Endymion?”
Biwa Province near Kyoto 21st century
Shachihoko HQ (two days later)
I was made to think of another time, a place where beauty was put to the sword, the passing of an age of great achievement, so sad its demise.
Finding hope in the wellspring of a silvery crystal that lit the way along a dark corridor to an uncertain future and then I woke to the sun kissing my eyelids and smiled. I stretched and felt a joy that had no frame of reference. I wasn’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth, so I went with it and bounced out of bed. Soon I was driving on the open road heading for Kyoto, enjoying the rush of air through my hair and singing aloud to a Bonnie Pink song, Fed Up, a duet with Craig David, a western performer. I also sang to the Akiko Shikata songs on my sports car stereo. I was determined to remain in high spirits even though I was more than a little nervous about meeting the woman named Metalia, for some reason the very sound of her name sent chills of fear through me.
---
As one approached the ancient castle nestled within the small wood, the passive observer could be forgiven for believing this picturesque location a repository of peace and tranquility, and why wouldn't they see this? It seemed the perfect haven. The crystalline lake, beautiful waterfowl, black swans, the chirruping of exotic songbirds, the butterflies and bees dancing in their agitated choreography, it was a wondrous holiday retreat. I simply adored this place.
I smiled. Brushing the hair out of my eyes, taking in the sleeping cats on the steps of the imposing structure before me, it made me feel quite at home. The scenery was glorious. The mountains in the background behind the castle added an enchanting touch.
I disliked the hooded priest, and why? It was nothing he did or said, but his aura was a muddy blur and I swore hints of malicious shadows drifted in and out of phase. I knew that with a little effort, I could see these, but opted not to and why you might ask. Hey, it was a beautiful day; why spoil it?
He was just like an ugly stain created by a wayward paintbrush that had slipped from the artist’s hand and almost ruined the painting. He snorted impatiently, now irritated by my pausing to inhale the flowers and to admire the picturesque paradise in which I found myself. He obviously had no idea of what women liked, of femininity, and he was sneering at my short skirt, bared abs and the tulip motifs of my top. I caught him sneaking glances at my legs when he thought I wasn’t looking but I knew. I didn’t want to guess at what he was fantasizing about me. Whatever it was, it would likely involve some kind of perverse bondage and weird shit like that. But honestly, if a girl made a pass at him, he’d probably have a heart attack or prematurely ejaculate. Ek, the very idea was enough to put one off their lunch. I turned my attention back to the flowers and hummed; this I knew would annoy and fascinate the puny little monk. I giggled.
‘Suffer buster, you can wait.’
He likely hadn’t ever seen a naked girl before in his sorry life, a lone child I bet, or one of those misogynists that thought his sister was dirty or some shit whenever she menstruated. Hell, the bastard probably never fucked a woman before and was likely suffering blue-balls, widower's disease, or some similar affliction suffered by many celibates. I wasn't about to drop my panties for that poor bastard, it would be like being fucked by a corpse, thanks, but no thanks. And besides, what religion was he anyway?
He wasn’t Buddhist, or anything, not Shinto either, not anything traditional. He was probably some kind of black magician, so with that in mind I thought I’d not tease him too much in case he was a friend of several youma or something. He might be a priest of a sex cult, or worse, cannibal cult, Eep now I was going too far.
I couldn’t help myself and burs tout laughing, covering my mouth. He arched an eyebrow and quickened his pace, and I took the hint and did the same.
He cast an impatient look over his boney shoulder, reminding me of a vulture on its perch; I only wished that John Clease would put the poor son of a bitch out of his freak’n misery. I huffed, and followed on his heels.
I could hear the sound of a lawn mower somewhere in the background, its sleepy refrain making me reminisce. You know, one of those you can sit on and drive. My father, before he packed me off to Beijing to boarding school, on one of those rare days he treated me as a daughter had taken me for a ride on one such contraption. There I would be, seated beside him squealing like a fan girl at a rock concert as he put his foot down on the throttle. We both laughed as the mini-tractor-like mower made like a racing car. Why couldn’t he have been like that all the time, fun and free spirited, was it my mother’s intensity that made him treat me like a leper?
I took in the sight of old crumbling walls, grass and weeds kissing the lonesome blue stone slabs: the fallen, the weary – evidence of futile battles waged against lady time. I was crying, silent but stinging tears for the childhood I never got.
I reminded myself, this was the Shachihoko HQ, arguably the most deadly clandestine movement in Japan and beyond. Like a deep cancerous growth, the Shachihoko had attached itself to the shell of history's grand and awe-inspiring punctuation point on the landscape.
The castle's façade cracked open much like the eggshell that cradled Venus within Botticelli's creation. Yes, many a visitor would surely gasp at the sight.
Another thing that was pissing me off was the fact this pompous asshole kept quoting Latin phrases, truisms that bored me to tears. I was capable of matching his best. I bet he’d be put out if he knew I could not only understand every word he said, but also translate and speak Sanskrit and a host of other languages both dead and alive, including Latin.
---
As I walked down the long passageway with the hooded priest a pace or two ahead of me deep beneath the ground floor of the castle proper, I suddenly felt a sense of intense cold swirling about my ankles as we passed a roped off darkened corridor. I shuddered as the sensation wound itself around my legs, the air icy-cold on my skin.
I felt violated somehow as the damp tendrils of the mist clung to the skin of my legs and clawed at my panties; I then knew it was some kind of entity attempting to get a rise out of me. If that was its intention, it succeeded.
“Fuck off, you piece of shit!” I hissed, not caring if the monk a little further ahead of me heard or not, he hadn’t but I wouldn’t have cared if he had. “Try that again and I’ll kick your fucking ass!”
I felt sick and disgusted by the unwanted sensation. I felt a sense of revulsion and rage. The dark fog seemed to back away from me as if I had scorched it. I could hear it groan in pain as I continued on my way behind the nervous priest, and refused to look back as my aura was aflame and nothing would dare come near me now.
---
I snorted, the décor left much to be desired: dead stuffed animals I couldn't identify gaped back at me with empty eyes.
Shields, weapons, and garish standards hung from the walls and ceilings gazing back at me as if about to ask me something. I sighed. The fluttering bats were weird and irritated me. The corridor we were traversing soon gave way to a huge chamber, a Gothic miracle. And at its heart, a naked reclining woman seated on a reddish-black crystal flower.
At first, the sensual specter remained partially hidden in shadow. She was beautiful, her obsidian crystal body, exquisitely cut into an almost perfect replica of the human form but for the slightly uneven crystalline surface of her skin.
‘Is she real?’
I gaped. I wondered as I gawked at this dark, sinister, but lovely thing of gemstone, shimmering with an opaque beauty and malevolent luster.
I was both terrified and awestruck. I could only bow before the regal dark queen of polished living stone. The smiling woman then beckoned me.
“Girl, come forward.”
“Yeah, I mean,” I coughed, “I am Nehelenia…”
"I am known as Metalia. Yes, I am quite real."
“Nice to meet you,” I said, how fucking lame was that.
She was indescribable. The texture of her skin so surreal to the touch, she placed a handful of her reddish-black hair in my hands. I gasped at the contradiction of softness and shimmering gemstone.
"You're real, but I—"
"Yes, and child, you must stay a while and talk, for there is much to discuss."
My mouth opened but not a sound came out as she blinked and pursed her lips as I continued to stare.
"Caroline, wine for our guest if you please." She smiled at one of the near naked female attendants who bowed and spun in a swirl of raven black and was gone.
Soon, she had returned and had brought a platter with two goblets of wine and a bowl of munchies and set these down and bowed before retreating.
"But how, and are you from our world?" I ventured, and the crystal woman smiled and hoisted herself into a sitting position.
Metalia ran her hands through her impossibly soft onyx locks with its ruby highlights and then licking her lips began, "Perhaps, but let's talk Nehelenia," the dark queen began.
Metalia inclined her head and patted the flat surface of crystal beside her. I sat.
I knew she could see there was something unique about me, but without making it obvious, I easily guarded my inner knowledge, showing only enough to let her know I would be of some use to the movement. She knew also of my ambitious nature, seemed she’d been watching me and agreed I ought to be promoted.
