Sailormoon, its characters, struggles and story, are copyright and 
the children of Naoko Takeuchi. No recognition to this tale can be 
given without properly paying honour to her first. They are 
rightfully hers and I respect how she has raised them all. May what 
I have written here, the dark and the light, be considered worthy 
as a token of my appreciation for the world she has created.


His lordship Chaos / Angel Electric 
03 - The Assassins of Midnight

Rated PG13.


*****

"Some things linger, and blood lingers the longest."

	--Neil Gaiman, "American Gods"

*****


	Spinel had been waiting.
	Waiting for such a long time.
	There had been moments of doubt. There had been moments of 
madness. There had been moments where he'd thought of throwing it 
all away, including his life. Every time he closed his eyes, he 
would see the smiling faces of his family burned into his memory. 
Then would come the shouts and screams, and he would realize he 
could still recall how it felt to have his neighbour's blood spray 
across his face and into his mouth.
	He had been buried beneath the corpses of his family, forced 
to pretend he was dead as his village was looted and burned to the 
ground. For hours, even after the island had grown mournfully 
silent, he had lain there. His only company had been the open, 
hollow eyes of his mother staring down at him.
	When his fears could no longer keep him paralysed, he had 
crawled out from beneath the bodies, and saw the desolation that 
had overtaken his home. The fires were still burning on some of the 
rubble. He let the flames burn themselves out. The winds were 
telling him a storm would come by nightfall anyways, and so the 
fires were not a threat.
	That had been Spinel's day of silence.
	It was a day in which he did not speak, and did not talk 
about to anyone else afterwards. He saw the silhouettes of the 
marauding boats far away, near the horizon, and he knew he could 
never catch them. The sun had beat down upon him as he wordlessly 
stumbled through the village, and found a hoe and shovel. He 
brought water in from the beach, and washed clean the blood from 
the faces of his family and friends.
	There had been thirty-six people in his village.
	He'd buried twenty-four.
	Some of the younger girls had been carried off. Spinel knew 
he would never see them again. He would never see either of his 
sisters again.
	Even now, he was unable to consider what might have happened 
to his sisters, what they might have been forced to endure. There 
would be a moment of horrible imaginings, and then he would lapse 
into shivers, and his eyes would cry tears of blood.
	The Lunarian doctors would never understand why he shed 
scarlet tears. Only when he was lost in the past, lost in the rage 
and the memories and the screams of his family, would he cry. Only 
then would the crimson streaks run down his face. 
	His closed eyes were bleeding tears once more when Beryl 
found him in his hidden chambers.
	"Mourning, again?" she said. "Has the pain become that great, 
Spinel?"
	Spinel straightened up, but he did not turn his head to look 
at her. He was still trembling, and biting down on his tongue 
against the pain. "What do you want, Beryl?" he murmured.
	Beryl lifted her gaze to Spinel's little sanctuary. 
	Like the twins, he lived in a room that had no windows, and 
Spinel especially did not seem to mind. His associates, the other 
outcast Seraphim, were less prolific and could be arranged to sleep 
in more public quarters with the other palace servants, and no one 
was any the wiser. Beryl knew that Spinel was a greater risk than 
the others, and Spinel had no qualms with spending his time on 
Lunaria in a windowless crypt.
	His was a world of flickering candles, and strange markings 
Spinel himself had carved into otherwise polished marble walls. 
Often Beryl had caught him mumbling prayers or a scattergore of 
words relating to his memories. Year by year, his mind was drifting 
away--torn apart piece by piece, his sanity slipping away.
	It was just as well his use would find fulfillment tonight, 
Beryl reflected.
	"Still paying homage to the dead?" she asked Spinel.
	"The dead are dead," he answered. "They cannot be changed or 
brought back. They are lost to me."
	"And still you seek them with all your being," Beryl said.
	Spinel nodded his head, and remained penitent. "I will not 
forsake their memories," he said. "They deserved better in life, 
and so I will not dishonour them in their deaths."
	Beryl found his blind longing an amusing thing, but chose not 
to show it with a smile. She had spent years grooming Spinel's 
hatred for one exact purpose, and now that his time had come she 
was mindful not to spoil it.
	"And so you wait," she said.
	"I do," he bitterly agreed.
	At that Beryl had to smile, and it was one forged in cold 
delight. She savoured knowing what she knew this would bring about. 
She savoured Spinel's darkness. "Well, Spinel," she told him, "your 
wait is over. Tonight you shall have your revenge."
	Spinel opened his eyes, and squeezed out one last blood-
drenched tear.
	Slowly he turned his head and studied her expression.
	Her intentions were clear enough. 
	"I am already making arrangements for the rest of your former 
Seraphim comrades to be attending the masque in some way," she 
said. "You will appear as a guest, preferably masked. I leave the 
creative choice in your hands, and trust you will not fall below my 
expectations."
	"Have I ever?" he asked her. 
	They both knew the answer. Beryl felt obligated to speak the 
answer anyways: "No." She added, "Do whatever you want when it 
begins, Spinel, but grant me this: wait until Endymion shares the 
first dance with Serenity. Whatever your heart's desire is after 
that, you are being given the chance to make it real."
	Spinel watched her with crimson rivers drying upon his 
cheeks, and in the dim, flickering lights he looked more dangerous 
than Beryl had ever seen him. For a brief moment she was afraid of 
Spinel, but the moment was quick to pass. She turned and prepared 
to leave him to his final meditations.
	"Why now?" Spinel asked aloud.
	Beryl paused.
	"Eleven years ago," he said to her, "I could have finished 
him when he was but a boy. You restrained my hand, and allowed me 
to make only threats. Yesterday, when I watched him at the masque, 
I could have killed him, but I respected your command. What is so 
important that he was permitted to escape and live on borrowed 
time?"
	Beryl's lips were pursed into a thin smile, and she looked 
back at the fallen Seraphim. "My dear Spinel," she said, and she 
sounded almost like a mother teaching her precocious child, "you 
are but one player in my game. There are things I have set into 
motion you need not concern yourself with. I am granting you the 
opportunity to repay blood for blood. Be satisfied in that."
	It was enough to satisfy Spinel.
	He didn't really care of anything beyond seeing the 
completion of what he wanted.
	"You're not going to escape," Beryl added over her shoulder 
as she reached the doorway to his chambers. "You know that, don't 
you? If Endymion and his Generals don't manage to wound or kill 
you, the palace guards will. They will swarm the masque like angry 
bees, and sting you. You will die before you leave that ballroom." 
	It was Spinel's turn to smile.
	"Knowing that does not make my mission any different," he 
stated calmly, quietly. "I have accepted my fate. My resolve is 
set. Regardless of how different your ends are from mine, I do 
thank you for giving me this chance."
	Beryl absently nodded her head and departed. It was not every 
day she met a Lunarian so willing to die. It was not often she met 
a Lunarian so ready to kill. Spinel's past had groomed him well 
indeed. Was there a chance that he might live, she would have made 
him into a great General for her Dark Kingdom.
	Spinel was left to pray in the shadows. He felt a prickling 
warmth caress his body, and was certain that the spirits of his 
slain family were gathering around him. He would only need to cry 
one last time, and then, one way or another, it would be over.
	"My kindred," he whispered to the darkness. "Tonight you 
shall find your revenge, or else I shall join you in your unrest 
forever."
	Spinel reached forth an arm, and with his fingers snuffed out 
one of the candle flames. The fire left ash on his fingertips. He 
didn't feel any pain.





			Are you dancing?


			-ANGEL ELECTRIC-



	"I have to say I'm quite impressed," Jadeite remarked upon 
hearing of Nephrite's encounter. "It's only late morning and 
already the relations between us and the Moon are strained at 
best."
	He was rubbing Artemis' stomach, the white cat sprawled out 
happily on his lap as Jadeite rested in one of the chairs.
	"So yours went that well too, did it?" came Nephrite's voice 
from the open doorway to his bedchambers. Moments later Nephrite 
emerged, having taken another shower. He was wrapped in a towel, 
and his hair dripped water onto the floor.
	Nephrite collapsed onto one of the other chairs and let out a 
long sigh.
	"We're not cut out for ambassador detail, Jadeite," he said. 
"You and I both belong on the battlefield commanding armies, or 
keeping the peace in our lands. Pardon my phrasing, but we're too 
down to earth for these delicate 'tiptoe' politics."
	He glanced down at the table, where five glasses and a 
decanter filled with a transparent liquid, possibly water, awaited 
them.
	"I'll be surprised if she even deigns to look at me, let 
alone speak to me again." Nephrite shrugged, and poured himself a 
drink from the decanter. "Don't really care, I guess. I can only 
stomach so much holier-than-thou crap."
	Nephrite drank back the contents of the entire glass. It was 
water, but tasted purer, and it left an electric tingling in his 
mouth. Nephrite felt it coursing down his throat and into his 
stomach. Almost immediately his hangover started to ebb.
	"Wonder if Endymion's going to reprimand us for putting the 
negotiations in jeopardy," he said, and set his glass back down on 
the table. "Kunzite definitely will, if he gets wind of it."
	"Oh, I can't say this has been all bad," Jadeite admitted. He 
smirked. "If anything we've managed to undermine the confidence of 
two of the Sailor Soldiers. I suppose that has to count for 
something, since they are supposed to be more powerful than we 
are."
	Nephrite poured water from the decanter into another glass, 
and handed it across the table to Jadeite. "Shall we drink to 
that?"
	"Why not?"
	Jadeite took up his own glass, and he and Nephrite toasted to 
tensions and misgivings and other flawed things that made all of 
them uniquely human. "This isn't bad at all," Jadeite remarked 
after drinking his water. "Tastes almost like water from a spring, 
but there's something wholly...ethereal to it."
	"It's doing a good job of clearing my head, at least," 
Nephrite agreed pleasantly. "If I can find out what's in this, I 
could start selling bottles on Earth and make a small fortune."
 	They turned their heads as the door to their guest suite 
opened, and Zoicite sauntered in. He seemed surprised of their 
suit's occupancy.
	"You're both here already?" Zoicite said.
	Jadeite raised his hand. "Got in about half an hour ago."
	"Been here for a few hours," Nephrite said, "and I'm happily 
a saner man for."
	Zoicite eyed the towel girding Nephrite's waist. "If you say 
so."
	Nephrite laughed and leaned back in his chair. "Like this, I 
can almost forget I'm on Lunaria. I could be down near one of the 
luxury inns hidden deep within the mountain forests."
	"Nostalgia takes you to many places, and yet ultimately you 
go nowhere," Zoicite said, and sat down.
	"What did...Sailor Mercury, was it?" Jadeite asked as he 
attended to Artemis' belly. "What did she show you?"
	"I saw our dinner," Zoicite replied. "All in all, my time was 
well-spent. I think I might have actually managed to make an ally 
out of her. She's pretty damned smart."
	Nephrite gestured to Jadeite. "As smart as Jadeite here?"
	"Smarter," Zoicite answered. He then smirked at the other two 
Generals. "So, dare I ask how your tours went?"
	Jadeite answered with, "Frosty."
	Nephrite's response was, "You're better off not knowing."
	"Always the consummate conversationalist, aren't you, 
Nephrite?" Zoicite said. "Well, so long as it's nothing to start an 
inter-planetary war over, I could care less. Some of these 
Lunarians could use a good knocking off their proverbial high 
horses."
	Jadeite reached forward and began pouring Zoicite a glass of 
water. "Does Mercury?" he asked.
	"Surprisingly, no," Zoicite said, and took a sip from his 
glass. "Can't say why or how exactly, but she seems to view life in 
this palace along the same lines as we do. And whatever's in this 
glass, it's good."
	He began to pour himself a fuller glass.
	"Might be her intelligence, if it's as high as you think," 
Jadeite suggested. "The intellects are usually alienated from the 
general public. I've also noted that the Sailor Soldiers all seem 
to be princesses."
	"Guilded cages?" Nephrite mused, and he poured himself 
another drink. "Maybe. But why make all the princesses Sailor 
Soldiers?"
	"In any case," Zoicite said, and downed the rest of the water 
in his glass, "Sailor Mercury's someone worth placing some initial 
trust in. If we need to go to anyone for dubious questions or 
requests, I'd recommend we consider starting with her."
	"Sounds fine to me," Nephrite said.
	Zoicite glanced down at Artemis, and he arched one of his 
eyebrows. "You can't seem to go anywhere without that cat tagging 
along, Jadeite. What are you going to do with this trip is over; 
smuggle him back onto the zeppelin?" 
	Jadeite shrugged. "I supposed I'm the flavour of the day for 
him. When we're gone, he'll probably find someone else in the 
palace to latch onto. It's fun playing with him, though; he's 
probably one of the few characters in the Moon Palace I don't have 
to worry about having some hidden agenda."
	Artemis let out a contented "myu" and rolled onto his side.
	They lounged about in the common room, swapping stories of 
what they'd seen or what they'd heard. It was some time later 
before Endymion opened the double doors of the guest quarters. All 
the Generals were quick to stand at attention.
	"Good, the three of you are here," Endymion said, and 
motioned for them to be at ease. "Saves me having to track you down 
or garner some attention by having palace attendants summon you 
here." 
	Zoicite peered around Endymion. "Where's Kunzite?"
	"Elsewhere," Endymion said. "He already knows what I'm about 
to tell you, so it's not essential for him to be here. You still 
look like hell, Nephrite."
	Nephrite shrugged. "I took an herbal draught and caught a few 
more hours of sleep. I feel much better than I'm sure I look." 
	"I can only assume you found something of note," Jadeite 
said.
	Endymion nodded. "That's the good news."
	"What did you find? "Zoicite asked.
	At that, Endymion glowered at the floor, and sat down on a 
vacant settee. "That," he said, "is the bad news."
	The Generals sat down, and Endymion outlined for them 
Spinel's past, and Spinel's associations with the Seraphim.
	"I've heard tales of the Seraphim before," Nephrite said. 
"Mostly stories designed to scare little boys and girls into 
behaving nicely for their parents. The Seraphim can be the very 
shadows themselves, or they steal noisy little children from their 
beds at night and enslave them in great rocky caverns beneath the 
Moon Palace. Or, every time you see a shooting star, it is in truth 
a Seraphim coming down from the moon to slay some poor bastard."
	"I've heard my own colourful variations," Jadeite agreed, 
"and very little of anything that would resemble truth or fact. 
What are we dealing with?"
	Endymion shook his head. "The best equivalent Kunzite gave 
was that the Seraphim are akin to our Shinobi." 
	All three Generals grimaced. 
	Nephrite rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. "Oh 
wonderful," he sighed. "Vengeful Lunarian Shinobi, that's all we 
need."
	"Does anyone else find it odd how a peaceful civilization 
like Lunaria would have a government assassin squad?" Jadeite said. 
"So much for a picture-perfect utopia, I guess."
	Endymion shook his head. "From what Halcyon told me, before 
they were disbanded, the Seraphim Order had been around for 
centuries. They were created during the Darkstorm, and have 
remained a Lunarian institution ever since."
	"Oh, that's comforting to know," Nephrite said dryly. "Now 
they've got hundreds of years of practice behind them too. They're 
probably even better than our Shinobi, if they have even a fraction 
of the strange powers Lunarians are whispered to have."
	"Strange powers or not," Zoicite stated. "They still can't 
hide the poison they've been nurturing for decades. They're here in 
the palace."
	The others stiffened.
	"Does anyone else in the palace know they're here?" Nephrite 
asked.
	"If they did," Jadeite said, "I think we'd be placed under 
greater security."
	Endymion stared gravely at Zoicite. "What did you see?"
	"I saw someone very interested in you during last night's 
masque, my prince," Zoicite said. "He was dressed like a waiter, 
but there was unprecedented wrath in his eyes. There was something 
else that I could not place, but now this explains it. I saw the 
cold eyes of a killer."
	Jadeite studied the floor, and his consternation earned a 
curious "myu?" from Artemis. "Two extremes locked in the same 
eyes," he said. "The conflict in his heart must rage even louder."
	He looked at Endymion. "It's a wonder he didn't try to 
outright kill you last night."
	"If the Seraphim are indeed like our Shinobi," Endymion 
replied, "then they too are ruled by the strictest codes and chains 
of authority. A single one would not act unless the command or 
permission from their leader was given. We have to find out who 
that is."
	"If he's smart, then that would not have been Spinel you saw 
last night," Jadeite said. "He would have run the risk of someone 
else at the masque recognizing him."
	"Don't be so sure about that," Endymion said. "Spinel 
vanished for more than a decade, and only an hour ago did we link 
him to my father's murder."
	Nephrite raised his own objections. "Then if it was Spinel 
last night," he said, "why didn't he attack you? That would have 
been the perfect opportunity. I somehow don't think Spinel really 
cares about how public your death might be, so long as he has his 
revenge."
	"Who said he wants to kill me?" Endymion asked.
	Nephrite shrugged. "That much hatred in a guy's eyes and he 
doesn't go after you, something's up."
	"The Seraphim don't act unless given commands by their 
leader," Jadeite said quietly, and he did not like what he was 
speaking. He slowly turned his head to Endymion. "If that is the 
case, this goes higher than Spinel."
	Endymion's jaw clenched, and he scowled momentarily at the 
table. "We'll worry about that once we find Spinel." He directed 
his gaze at Zoicite. "General, think you can sniff out anything 
else on our waiter?"
	"I can try," Zoicite replied. "I made a point of finding out 
where the palace archives are located. Unless I'm required for 
something else this afternoon, I can hole up there and dig through 
the records. It'll be easier to find this guy now that I have a 
disappearing act to cross-reference him with."
	Endymion nodded his approval. "Good. Find everything you can 
about the Seraphim themselves too. If they're going to be attacking 
us during our stay, I want to know exactly what they are capable 
of."
	"I take it we'll be attending tonight's masque armed?" 
Nephrite said.
	Endymion scowled and looked at the three Generals in the 
room. "Last night I wanted all of us to openly carry our swords," 
he stated. "Tonight, we also smuggle in any smaller weapons we can 
get away with." 
	They were startled by an abrupt and polite knock on the door, 
which was followed by a pleasantly familiar voice calling out, "If 
you would permit me to enter, your lunch has arrived."
	Endymion gestured with his eyes for Jadeite to get the doors. 
He then glanced over at Nephrite, who was still dressed in a towel, 
and flashed Nephrite a disproving look. With an indignant roll of 
his eyes, Nephrite sauntered into his chambers to change.
	Jadeite turned the handles and let the double doors swing 
back into the common room. Standing there at the doorway, leading 
another cart adorned with mounds of food, was Setsuna.
	She smiled at each guest in turn as she wheeled the cart into 
the common room and set it beside one of the columns. "Since there 
was no formal lunch scheduled," she said, "Halcyon Queen wished me 
to deliver this to you for when you and your Generals grew hungry, 
Endymion."
	Endymion slowly rose to his feet, his eyes first taking in 
the details of their meal, and then the details of Setsuna's face 
and form. "You are good," he said, with a little more in his tone 
than simple admiration. "Simple compliments to your Queen will 
certainly not suffice. I shall sing praises of your name to Halcyon 
Queen, and see to it that you're promoted."
	Setsuna rewarded him with an enigmatic smile, and she leaned 
back against the column. "You seem to think you can hand the world 
to me, if I so asked for it," she remarked.
	Endymion leisurely approached her, his face drawing closer 
and closer still to hers. He leaned one arm against the column, and 
looked into Setsuna's eyes. "You never know until you ask," he 
said.
	"Shameless flirt," Jadeite muttered in Terran-Nihongo under 
his breath, and Zoicite let out a snort of laughter.
	Endymion glanced down at their cart. "So what are we eating?"
	"You," Setsuna replied, "will dine on fresh bread and sliced 
meats that have been rubbed with exotic spices. There are fresh 
fruits, desserts, chocolate, and I also requested some hot, steamed 
rice."
	"Would you like to join us, Milady?" Jadeite asked Setsuna, 
though he could not hide the amusement in his voice. "There seems 
to be plenty of food to go around, and we appear to be one General 
short as it is right now."
	Setsuna shook her head. "Flattered as I am by your request, I 
have other duties that require my attention right now. If you need 
anything else, anything at all," and she gave Endymion a very 
seductive smile, "feel free to summon me. Now then, if you do not 
require anything else of me, I shall leave you to your meal."
	Setsuna adjourned from the guest quarters, and Artemis 
followed after her. The little white cat looked up at her 
expectantly, as if he was going to get a treat as well, depending 
on how long he pursued her.
	Jadeite waited for the doors to swing closed behind Setsuna 
before remarking to Endymion, "You know, it's rather frightening 
how you can turn that charm of yours off and on at will."
	"It's not like I had to make an effort with her," Endymion 
replied as he popped a small, round ball of chocolate into his 
mouth. He glanced back at the door. "Still, there's something very 
unusual about her, and I'd prefer to lower her expectations of me, 
if it means I can find out who she really is."
	"Oh, you noticed it too, then?" Nephrite said as he emerged 
from his quarters, clad in casual Terran-Nihongo robes. "I wasn't 
even in the room, and her voice alone told how many secrets she's 
keeping from the universe at large."
	Jadeite's brow furrowed, and he leaned forward in his chair 
in thought. "She may be an Outer Soldier," he said. "One of the 
Sailor Soldiers we have not yet been formally introduced to."
	"Outer...Soldier?" Nephrite said. "Where'd you get that funny 
word?"
	"From Sailor Mars," Jadeite replied. "There are four other 
Sailor Soldiers we have not yet encountered. Setsuna may very well 
be one of them."
	"Don't get yourselves too paranoid," Endymion told his 
Generals. "These Outers are Halcyon's personal bodyguards. From 
what I've been able to discern, their sole mission is to protect 
the Queen. They're just curious as to how far they can trust us."
	Nephrite smirked and began removing a few slices of bread 
from one of the cart's trays. "So long as their Queen doesn't try 
to kill us, I'll be the most personable guy they've ever met."
	"Unfortunately, it's not Halcyon we have to worry about," 
Zoicite sighed. "So what do we do now?"
	"We go about our business as always," Nephrite said. "If we 
act twitchy now, everyone's going to notice, especially these 
Seraphim characters. I'm willing to bet they don't know that we 
know they're here. We have surprise as our ally."
	"I agree," Jadeite concurred. "We need to brace ourselves for 
the worst, but act as if nothing was wrong."
	Endymion nodded his head. "The last thing we want to do is 
alarm the people in the palace. This place is a maze, and we barely 
know any of it. There's no sense trying to flush Spinel out when we 
know what he wants, and I don't want to create a panic. This is one 
battle we're going to let come to us."
	"I doubt more than a handful of Lunarians have actually seen 
anything resembling war," Nephrite said. "They can boast about 
being more civilized, but they have no idea what it's like on 
Earth, where even the peaceful nations must struggle to stay 
alive."
	"You ever stopped to think that maybe all the years of 
fighting have made you too cynical and jaded?" Zoicite said.
	"Not really," Nephrite replied with a shrug. 
	Endymion turned to Zoicite. "How long do you think it may 
take to find anything on the Seraphim?"
	"Those archives are enormous," Zoicite said. "It might take a 
while, especially if I have to do this without the archivist's 
attention. I'll grab a bit of food and head over now."
	"If needs be, we'll stall or cover for you," Endymion added. 
"And if anyone asks, tell them you were interested in their flower 
gardens, and wanted to look a few things up."
	Zoicite nodded, piled himself up a plate of food, and quietly 
slipped out from their guest quarters.
	Nephrite downed another glass of water, and headed towards 
his room. "I'm going to sleep a little longer," he said. "A few 
more hours, and I should be ready if anything's going to come after 
us during tonight's masque."
	That left only two in the common room.
	"If there's anywhere you need to go, Endymion," Jadeite 
offered, "I have very little else to do right now."
	"Halcyon Queen wants to see me in a few hours," Endymion 
replied. "However, in light of recent discoveries, I don't think I 
could sit here and idly wait. Let's see what other surprises this 
palace has."


				*	*	*
	Minako had been waiting patiently for Kunzite and Endymion 
when they parted ways with Halcyon. She still wore the flowing 
robes of a princess that he'd seen her in at breakfast: the cloth 
was sometimes transparent, teasing him with momentary glimpses of 
her surprisingly limber body, or else an incredible shimmer of 
silver and white.
	"I think I'll find my way back to the guest quarters on my 
own," Endymion had said, a wry grin on his face as he'd patted 
Kunzite on the back. "Enjoy."
	Kunzite was half indignant at being ribbed once again. The 
other half of him was concern at Endymion walking the palace halls 
alone when rogue Seraphim were stalking about. But he had little 
chance to protest before Minako snagged one of his arms and drew 
herself up alongside him.
	"We meet again," she said, speaking Terran-Nihongo.
	"I thought you were guarding Serenity," Kunzite said, still 
uncomfortable at the situation in which he was finding himself.
	Minako smiled, but it was not an altogether sincere one. "I 
am not her shadow, any more than you are Endymion's." She looked 
back down the corridor. "One of the other Sailor Soldiers is 
keeping watch over her right now. I thought this would be a good 
opportunity to guide you through the palace--unless you had other 
obligations to answer to."
	Endymion was nowhere to be seen.
	Resigned, Kunzite sighed and said, "I guess I'm at your 
mercy."
	"Don't worry," Minako teased, and she winked at him. "I'll be 
gentle."
 	She walked him down halls and along courtyard fountains, and 
through gardens where other people took notable interest in their 
pairing. Minako didn't seem to care. If anything she seemed quite 
content to play up the gossip. Kunzite glanced down as she pressed 
herself closer to him and smiled as if he were her lover.
	"Are you quite finished?" he asked.
	"Not yet," Minako murmured, her eyes half on him, half on the 
people in the gardens. "There's a small group of courtesans up 
ahead I've been meaning to pay back, and if you don't mind, you 
make for a wonderful ally for my revenge." 
	Kunzite almost stopped walking altogether when she said that; 
the last thing he cared to be was a drawn into games played by the 
bored and idle rich. However, she had referred to him as an ally 
instead of being merely a tool. Perhaps that was why he went along 
with her instead of flat out refusing. Perhaps it was the partial 
scorn in Minako's voice that carried him alongside her. Perhaps it 
was her peculiar, up-front honesty. In any case, Kunzite was 
willing to see how this went.
	It was easy to pick out the courtesans Minako had been 
speaking of, and not just because Minako's performance increased 
the closer they got to the women in question. Kuznite could hear 
their gossip from halfway across the gardens.
	"What exactly have they done to spark your ire?" he said to 
Minako, and he pretended to be whispering sweet affirmations into 
her ear.
	Minako giggled. "Public shunning, contempt of who I am, 
conspiring to ruin the last attempt I had at a relationship."
	"And how," Kunzite asked, "is flirting with a Terran General 
going to enhance your reputation?"
	"You don't quite understand," Minako said. "Last night during 
the masque, they were wagering which of them would be the first to 
get you to kiss them."
	Kunzite asked, "An honest kiss?" 
	"With them? Hardly. A kiss is nothing more than a game in 
their eyes, and you're their next little conquest."
	They were fast approaching the courtesans, and out of the 
corners of his eyes Kunzite could see the ladies standing up and 
taking notice. They first seemed impressed with him, then indignant 
at Minako for looking so comfortable around him. 
	"You're quite vicious, you know that?" Kunzite remarked, 
enjoying the courtesan's uncomfortable squirming and obviously 
heated words.
	Minako grinned. "Just because I'm cute doesn't mean I lack 
claws."
	"Indeed," Kunzite agreed, and slowed to a stop. "Now then, I 
believe I also owe you payback from that stunt you pulled during 
breakfast." 
	Minako looked up at him with a puzzled expression. She was 
clearly enjoying herself, but had no idea what he had in mind. It 
caught her totally off-guard when Kunzite placed her face gently 
between his palms, and he bent down and kissed her.
	Kunzite wasn't entirely surprised when she returned the kiss.
	Upon seeing this, the courtesans let out a chorus of vocal 
protests and exclamations, and stormed off. Shortly after, Kunzite 
pulled away from Minako's lips. "Well," he casually remarked. "That 
was a rousing success."
	"Y-Yes," Minako agreed. She blinked a number of times and 
tried catching her breath. "I...I've learned my lesson now. Thank 
you."
	"My pleasure."
	Minako stared awkwardly at Kunzite, then stared awkwardly at 
the scenery around them. She eventually latched arms with him and 
resumed their casual stroll through the palace. It was quite some 
time before either of them seemed to find something else to talk 
about.
	"So," Minako said, "should I call you General, or Kunzite-
sama, since you are lord over part of Endymion's country? Or maybe 
there's a childhood nickname I could refer to you by?"
	"Kunzite will suffice," he answered. "And I'm impressed you 
know about the honorary titles we assign to others."
	Minako smiled, flattered. "We princesses learn more than how 
to dance or sit properly," she said. "I've spent a great deal of my 
spare time studying history, and the Terran culture."
	"Which one? Earth has a lot of cultures."
	"As many as I can. Yours has been of particular interest to 
me."
	Kunzite sighed ruefully. "Ah. Our illustrious history."
	"No. Not that," Minako countered, and shook her head. She 
guided him down a hall filled with beautiful marble statues trapped 
in flowing poses. "Your Bushido."
	"The Way of the Samurai?" Kunzite was surprised enough that 
he could not hide how impressed he was. "That life-philosophy would 
seem a little too violent for Lunarian tastes."
	"I'm not Lunarian, strictly speaking," Minako told him. "I am 
very much a pure-blooded child of Venus, even if the survivors of 
my world have lived for centuries on the Moon."
	Kunzite nodded, and his head absently drifted to one side as 
he stared at one of the statues. Hundreds of years ago, a dark 
force had poisoned the planets one by one, killing billions of 
souls. Lunaria had gathered the survivors and made room upon the 
Moon for them to establish new kingdoms. Mercury, Venus, Mars, 
Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto all had kingdoms or 
colonies echoing the greatness of their former worlds.
	"It's almost paradoxical, in a way," Minako said. "Lunaria 
hates war and yet adores the Sailor Soldiers and the royal guard. 
Though I think we account for little more than romanticized history 
as far as most people are concerned. We're just pretty window 
decorations." 
	She looked up at Kunzite. "Why do you think I've studied the 
Bushido you so embrace? I can't appreciate being a soldier if I 
have no concept of what it means to fight for honour or loyalty. 
I've never even fought an actual battle; the closest any of the 
Sailor Soldiers have come to that are during our sparring sessions. 
Even then we only do battle with each other, no one else."
	Kunzite was smiling, and it was hard for Minako to understand 
why. She voiced her confusion to him.
	"I suppose it's because I've been a soldier and a survivor 
most of my life," he answered. "The Earth has never known such 
peace as Lunaria does. I guess I'm too used to fighting battles, or 
waiting for the next one to rise up.  I hear you speak, and I 
remember how I once used to be. Yet now, I cannot think beyond the 
life I've lived, and I do not believe I could ever adapt to 
anything beyond being the soldier I am. There is a world beyond 
war. Sometimes I fear my lifetime spent in battle has numbed me to 
everything else, twisting my philosophy to the point where battle 
is the ultimate reasoning and solution to everything. It's part of 
my curse." 
	He stared at the last of the statues before they left the 
hall.
	"But because I have seen hell," Kunzite said quietly, "such 
opulence I cannot understand either."
	"You haven't once said I lead a sheltered life," Minako said.
	"I don't know anything about your life. It's not really my 
place to say anything about that which I do not know." He tilted 
his head down to the princess and soldier walking alongside him. 
"The wisest man is usually the one who can openly admit that he 
does not know everything, but is still willing to learn."
	Minako chuckled. Her hold around his arm softened, becoming 
less stiff and formal. "You're not like other Terrans I've 
encountered in the past, Kunzite," she admitted.
	Kunzite shrugged. "You're one of the first Venusians I've 
ever met," he replied. "I have no basis for comparison. How long 
has it been since you visited your family or the Venus kingdom?"
	"Years," Minako answered, and there was a touch of regret in 
her voice. "Despite that it would take no more than half a day's 
travel at most, it's been years since I have seen it with my own 
eyes. Princess Serenity is my life now. She has become my sun, and 
I am to revolve around her every day and night."
	"I share a similar duty to Endymion," Kunzite agreed. "My 
life is to protect and serve him."
	It suddenly occurred to him that Minako's hair smelled 
wonderful, and he felt the impulse to bury himself within its 
scent. Years of discipline kept him at bay from doing just that.
	"I know you meant what you said before about killing me," 
Kunzite said. "Have you actually killed before?"
	Minako avoided his gaze. "No. And just between you and I, I 
would rather not have to do that."
	"Kill me?" he asked.
	"Kill anyone."
	It was then that Minako forced herself to look into the calm, 
quiet darkness that lurked within the Terran General. "You've 
killed before, Kunzite," she said quietly. "I can see it in you 
eyes."
	"Don't treat it so harshly," he said. "I'm alive now because 
of what I did."
	"Then you do not delight in killing?"
	He shook his head. "Not especially. I do what I have to in 
order to protect the kingdom I love. Earth is not an ideal place to 
live in peace. Even though Endymion, with our help, has stabilized 
our country, there are always threats that must be met, both inside 
and outside of our borders."
	That seemed to satisfy some inner part of Minako, and she 
almost let out an audible sigh of relief. "Thank you for saying 
that," she said to Kunzite. "Now if I could be so bold as to ask a 
favour of you."
	"I've already allowed you one," he said. "Ask away."
	A playful smile crept onto Minako's face. "I can't remember 
the last time I've fought against anyone but three Inner Soldiers," 
she told him. "Would you like to spar with me, General?"
	Kunzite smirked at the proposition, and he gestured for her 
to lead the way. "Sounds tempting."

 
				*	*	*
	Halcyon sat in one of her private chambers. She had private 
chambers hidden all over the palace, ones whose doors would only 
open up when she showed them her palm. Out from her fingertips 
alone radiated a power that the otherwise cold walls could sense 
and obey. 
	These chambers were large and round like a gazebo, and ivy 
and roses climbed up the walls and pillars, and around the window 
frames. A trio of Shih-tzu dogs slept at her feet, and Halcyon 
stared up at the vaulted ceiling. The roses were most abundant as 
they hung upside-down on the ceiling, as odd as it was, and their 
petals rained down within her sanctum.
	Out from a smaller and hidden back door--an archway shaped by 
the entangled stems of the roses--appeared a small, white cat with 
a crescent moon-shaped marking on his forehead. Artemis padded 
across the chamber. He tried to weave around the falling rose 
petals, and for the most part failed.
	"Halcyon Queen," he said reverently, and lowered his front 
paws. Once he got back up, he shook the petals off himself.
	One of the Shih-tzu's opened an eye and looked at Artemis. 
Quite used to the cat's presence, and thusly not impressed, the dog 
closed his eye and went back to sleeping.
	Halcyon continued to sit in her chair, the silk upon her body 
so fine and white it resembled porcelain. Her eyes were closed as 
she let the petals fall past her face and caress her skin. "What do 
you have to tell me?" she asked.
	The little white cat sighed and pawed at the ground. "They 
think the rogue Seraphim who disappeared with Spinel are here in 
the palace," he said. "General Zoicite is going to be spending the 
afternoon trying to find what information he can in the archives." 
	Halcyon's eyes slowly opened, but not in surprise or alarm. 
"So they've been talking, have they?" she remarked. "I supposed 
it's good that they have raised their own guards. An assassination 
within the palace would most certainly bring this system to war. Do 
you think a failed attempt would have the same effect?"
	"Hard to say," Artemis admitted. "Depends on how Endymion 
sees the matter."
	"True enough. But I have placed my trust in him. He wants to 
reconcile our worlds just as I do. He will not let such a thing 
stand in the way."
	Artemis was about to reply with, 'If you say so', but decided 
against it. He would not have been able to make himself sound very 
convinced, no matter how much he did trust the Queen.
	"They think Spinel is planning to murder Endymion," Artemis 
told her, "maybe even tonight."
	Halcyon paused for a moment. "I think," she said at last, 
"that they may be right."
	Her casualness about the matter brought with it a cloud of 
consternation from the Mau cat. "What about us?" Artemis asked. 
"What if what they believe is true, and the Seraphim are here to 
kill Endymion? You know what the Seraphim are capable of, and there 
would be roughly a dozen of them against five Terrans. If he dies, 
all of Earth is going to rally together and declare war against 
us."
	"We shall do nothing, Artemis," Halcyon stated.
	"Nothing? But, my Queen!"
	"Artemis," she said softly, firmly. "While Spinel is 
certainly dangerous, I do not believe he is the one we truly need 
to fear. I am troubled by premonitions that he is merely a puppet; 
that the one we actually seek is the one pulling his strings. We 
cannot let them be aware of our suspicions, not yet. And Endymion 
and his Generals are more capable than you give them credit for."
	She looked away from Artemis, and tipped her head up to the 
rose-covered ceiling. "This will also prove a moment where our 
Inner Soldiers shall find themselves tested in a way they never 
have been before. If this must be their trial, then may they be 
baptized in it, and arise victorious."
	Though he did not entirely like it, Artemis knew she had 
spoken on the matter. "Yes, my Queen," he said.
	"There is one thing I need you to do, though," Halcyon added.
	Artemis looked up at her expectantly. 
	"I'm going to need you to take a message to an old friend, 
and bring him here to the palace," she said. "We are going to need 
all of our allies for this battle, even the ones we discarded years 
ago."
	Artemis listened closely as Halcyon gave him the message and 
its recipient.
	"Are you certain he'll be so willing?" he asked after she was 
done.
	"He will be once he finds Zoicite, and probably Garnet with 
him," Halcyon said.
	Respectfully, Artemis bowed his head and quietly left the way 
he had come in.
	With a great, burdened sigh Halcyon rose from her chair. The 
Shih-tzu's at her feet stirred and lifted their heads, but did 
little else as she glided across the petal-covered floor.
	"Where would you have us, Halcyon Queen?" a woman's voice 
reverently asked.
	Halcyon glanced back over her shoulder at four shadows 
standing in the room. "I want you all at the masque," she said. 
"Even if he is indeed here and wants revenge, there is no guarantee 
Spinel will attack tonight. Do not take action unless things get 
out of hand. And even then, do not reveal yourselves unless it 
cannot be helped. What we are facing may be only an isolated 
incident, or it may be a prelude to something far worse."
	"Could this just be a game then, something meant to announce 
our enemy's arrival?" one of the shadows asked. Her hands loosely 
gripped a long, sheathed sword. "Is this our enemy's way of 
whetting their own appetite?"
	Halcyon could not find an answer, not without knowing what 
sort of enemy they might be up against. Without a face, there could 
be no real anticipation. "What have you been able to discern, 
Michiru?" she asked.
	One shadow peered down into a mirror, and frowned. "The 
darkness that is coming is old, very old. I cannot yet see if it 
comes from within the boundaries of our solar system, or beyond 
it."
	Halcyon then frowned. "Such difficulty...that does not make 
sense."
	"There is one possibility," another of the shadows said. The 
light in the chamber caught a shimmer off the elegantly vicious 
blade of her glaive. "It once came from afar, but has become so 
lost within our system that it is now part of it. It does not 
belong to us, yet we are joined to it."
	Halcyon sucked in a breath, and her body tensed. "She was 
destroyed, wasn't she?" she said, growing alarmed. The Queen turned 
to the last of the shadows. "Tell me she was sealed forever, 
Setsuna."
	The magenta eyes of Sailor Pluto stared back at the queen. 
"Even I do not know what became of the evil within the Darkstorm, 
Halcyon Queen. None of us were there four hundred years ago. There 
is no way we can know. Not at this moment."
	Halcyon's eyes closed, and she braced her entire being 
against one of her greatest fears. "I pray she has not reawakened," 
she murmured to herself. She opened her eyes and turned to her 
loyal shadows, her four Outer Soldiers. "Find out what you can 
about the missing Seraphim, and report back to me before tonight's 
dinner with Endymion. The Terrans will be looking at the Seraphim 
and their skills; I want you to try and find out who or what has 
the power to lure Seraphim away from their sworn duty."
	The shadows bowed at the waist and said, "Yes, my Queen", and 
then they vanished amidst the falling rose petals.


				*	*	*
	There were so many gardens in the palace--so many that if 
felt as if there were as many gardens as there were rooms. Every 
hall seemed to link to one garden or another. Most of the grander 
rooms were filled with glass windows that looked out to some 
beautiful, green landscape stippled with blossoming flowers. 
	"You'd almost think that Halcyon Queen is a lover of nature," 
Jadeite remarked wryly. 
	Endymion grinned. "Yes, almost."
	They walked down a path of silver stones. All around them, 
the open air was saturated with the scent of so many different 
flowers. The palace walls rose above the tallest of trees, but the 
garden remained uncrowded and did not complain. Out from one part 
of a wall poured a waterfall, which emptied into a great pool that 
was filled with drifting lilypads. Endymion and Jadeite crossed 
over a small, wooden footbridge that spanned the middle of the 
pool.
	"Strange. I don't recall us having ventured into this garden 
before," Jadeite said. 
	"We haven't," Endymion answered. "This is the first time I'm 
seeing it too."
	"Then how did you know where to find it?"
	Endymion turned his eyes the blossoming flowers, and 
Jadeite's eyes reflected his illumination. "Ah, yes, the flowers," 
Jadeite said. "What are they whispering today?"
	They left the footbridge behind them and continued down the 
path of silver stones. Endymion gestured to a large gathering of 
Forget-Me-Nots and said, "These ones are being over-watered, and 
don't like it."
	With a quiet smile he then added, "Most of them are saying 
good morning to us."
	He slowed to a stop as they came across a small cluster of 
roses waiting for them by the side of the path. Endymion knelt down 
before the roses, and with a gentle hand lifted up one of the 
closed flowers.
	"Looks like they're still sleeping," Jadeite said. Somewhat 
idly he then asked, "Do roses ever dream?"
	"They sing," Endymion answered as he studied the sleeping 
roses.
	Jadeite rewarded his cryptic answer with a raised eyebrow.
	"When humans sleep, they dream," Endymion explained. His 
voice was quiet, almost hushed, not wanting to disturb the roses. 
"When flowers sleep, they sing. I do not know the words, but it 
sounds like a lullaby, and I believe it is very old."
	Endymion looked at the rose cupped in his palm, and with his 
other hand he traced a fingertip up along the rose's stem. The rose 
stirred, groggily at first, but quickly opened its petals to him 
and told him good morning. The power of his touch coursed through 
its roots and soaked into the ground. Other roses awoke from their 
slumber. Eager to greet the one who had so pleasantly roused them, 
they all opened their petals and turned their blossoms towards 
Endymion. 
	Jadeite held his breath as he watched, and dared not breathe 
until it was over. "I haven't seen you do that in a long time," he 
said.
	Endymion was trailing his hand over the roses' soft petals. 
They were straining to feel the caress of his skin, and one or two 
of them tried to push another out of the way. Endymion had to laugh 
at their childish enthusiasm. "I've sometimes wondered why I have 
these sorts of abilities," he said, "and no other Terran does."
	"There are rumours of people all over the world having 
strange, almost mystical powers," Jadeite said. "Hell, look at 
Nephrite: he's predicted more things that have come to pass than I 
can say. Granted, his farseeing is always vague at best, like 
seeing an illustration at the end of the book without knowing the 
rest of the story."
	"But no one with powers quite like mine."
	Jadeite was forced to shake his head. "No, not really. People 
said you always were a little strange. You and Kunzite. I know he's 
got a bit of Lunarian blood running through his veins, but you're 
royalty. Your Earth lineage can be traced back almost thirty 
generations, pretty much right up to the Darkstorm."
	With a bittersweet edge in his voice, Endymion remarked, 
"Kind of makes one wonder if I don't have Lunarian blood in my 
lineage somewhere."
	"Oh, that would go over well with most of the other Terrans," 
Jadeite sighed, rolling his eyes. "The planet's unofficial 
spokesman having 'tainted' blood. There'd be riots in the streets 
of our capital before nightfall."
	Endymion looked away from the roses, and studied his General. 
"What do you think?"
	"I think you've been given a gift," Jadeite answered him, 
"and you should be more concerned with using it well than in 
worrying where it came from. You also have company, milord." 
	Endymion withdrew his hand from the roses. Many of them 
sulked. He slowly rose to his feet and watched as the princess of 
Lunaria came following after them down the path of silver stones. 
Serenity's white gown rippled with each step she took, and her two 
tails of long, blonde hair flowed behind her form like a pair of 
golden wings. Behind her walked Sailor Mercury.
	"Endymion," Serenity said, bowing her head reverently to him. 
	Endymion in turn bowed to her.
	"I was hoping we could speak in private," Serenity said in 
Terran-Nihongo, "you and I."
	Jadeite glanced warily over at Endymion. Serenity saw it. 
	"If you feel the need to at least be in visual sight of your 
lord," she said to Jadeite, "I have no problems with that."
	Endymion smiled, and Jadeite's smile was even broader. "It 
wasn't me he was worried about," Endymion said, and pointed at 
Serenity.
	She blushed a little, possibly from the attention, possibly 
from her mistake, and looked over her shoulder at Sailor Mercury. 
"Do I have reason to not feel safe with you around?" she asked 
Endymion.
	"Not unless I have nefarious plots that involve you, no," he 
answered.
	While Serenity looked bemused at his response, Sailor Mercury 
tried stifling a laugh.  "I will be waiting at the garden entrance 
for you," Sailor Mercury said quietly into the princess' ear. 
Mercury then turned to Jadeite and invited him to follow after her. 
	"Meet you at the entrance," he said as he patted Endymion on 
the shoulder. "Play nice, okay?" 
	Endymion let out an indignant snort. "Yes, mommy."
	Serenity kept her elegant poise as she watched Jadeite and 
Sailor Mercury disappear through the garden trees. "You have a 
curious friendship with your guardians," she said to Endymion.
	"They're not my guardians," he told her, then switched to 
Lunarian. "They're my Generals, soldiers who follow my orders as I 
follow their council. And they're my friends. I've grown up with 
all of them." He laughed to himself. "They're the only ones who can 
get away with being so informal around me." 
	That seemed to perplex Serenity, much to her personal 
disapproval.
	Endymion had never seen her frown before; it seemed almost 
unbecoming of her usually tranquil nature. "What is it?" he asked 
her.
	"I have grown up with all four of them," Serenity said. "They 
are all a year older than I, and came to the palace when I was six. 
I know them like I know myself...and yet we have never laughed the 
way I have seen you laugh with your Generals. You share a closeness 
and camaraderie that my soldiers and I do not." 
	"Different circumstances shape us into different people," 
Endymion said. "My soldiers and I have fought more than our share 
of battles. When you're spending nights in the cold, the wind, the 
rain and the snow, trying to protect your people from thieves, 
rebels and invaders, you forge a lot of friendships that will test 
the limits of eternity."
	Serenity took a step off the path, and let her fingers dance 
amidst the dangling blossoms of a wisteria tree. "Is that why my 
friendship with my Sailor Soldiers is not as strong as yours?" she 
asked. She did not try to look at him. "Because our friendship has 
not yet been tested?"
	That her eyes were not meeting his made Endymion feel 
uncomfortable somehow. A part of him wanted to gently rest a 
reassuring hand on her shoulder and tell her it was all right. The 
other part of him was in disbelief that he would be getting 
agitated over a princess' self-doubts. 
	"I have been surrounded by war my entire life. It's taught me 
that people show their true colours when they fight," Endymion said 
to her, and he hoped he sounded sincere, since he was. "Only in 
combat can you truly learn who a person is: where their strengths 
are; where their weakness lie; if their words are braver than their 
actions; if they have honour." 
	Serenity's head bowed even more, and Endymion knew right away 
she did not like his answer, even though it was the only answer he 
had to give. Slowly she turned to face him. Tears were not 
gathering in the corners of her eyes, but her eyes were trembling 
nevertheless.
	"Does it have to be that way?" she said, bitterness creeping 
into her voice. "Can I only grow close to my friends by fighting?"
	Endymion shook his head. "My father once told me that the 
strongest of kinships are meant to be forged without the need for a 
sword. It's just...fighting is all I have ever known. If there is 
another way, Serenity, and I hope you find it. I really do." 
	Their conversation was growing awkward, and in danger of 
dying altogether. Endymion looked up and down the path, suddenly at 
a loss for what to do next. This had never happened to him before; 
now it was his turn to have no idea how to act around her.
	It surprised him when Serenity took the initiative, and his 
hand, and began walking them further along the silver-stoned path. 
She held his arm in both of hers, and he could feel the warmth of 
her body pressed against his. Overall, she showed a lot more 
confidence than earlier that morning, when she had blushed across 
the breakfast table after he had simply looked at her.
	Perhaps it was because they were not surrounded by so many 
prying eyes. Perhaps it was because they did not have to act so 
formal in these gardens. Perhaps it was something else, but that 
still didn't change the fact that he had nothing to talk with her 
about. 
	"I'm surprised they don't guard you morning, noon and night," 
he said finally. "Your Sailor Soldiers, I mean."
	"There is no need to worry about me," Serenity said. "While 
one of them is always my companion and shadow, the palace is a 
peaceful place."
	She cast her eyes to the seemingly benign, darkened edges of 
the garden. "And besides, there are other watchers."
	Endymion remembered the shadows from his time with Halcyon. 
"Ah, yes. Them. Ever met them in person?"
	Serenity shook her head. "From what I know, they are older, 
and they are more my mother's soldiers than mine." 
	Her gaze drifted to another cluster of roses standing tall 
and proud next to the path. "I saw the way you played with the 
roses," she said.
	"I did little more than touch them," Endymion replied with a 
dismissive shrug.
	Serenity stopped walking.
	"Roses do not bloom from a simple touch," she told him. "No 
matter how hard I try, my own fingertips cannot make them shiver 
and open up to me. Can you show me how you played with them?"
	Endymion looked at her surprisingly persuasive expression, 
and was disturbed to find how easily his will caved just by looking 
at it. He smiled and nodded, and knelt down before the roses. These 
ones were awake, and looked at him curiously. It was not often they 
received such direct attention from anyone but the gardeners.
	He chose one at random, one rose who seemed lost amidst the 
larger flowers around it, and caressed it with his palm. The rose 
visibly trembled in delight, and when Endymion slowly pulled his 
hand away, the flower swayed on its stem and followed after his 
fingertips. He let his fingers sway back and forth, and the rose 
mimicked his actions. Soon the chase became a dance, and the rose's 
petals became even more lush and red as it twirled to its own 
rhythm. The roses around it could hear the silent music, and began 
to dance as well.
	All of a sudden Endymion discovered that Serenity was 
kneeling down beside him, her eyes wide in awe and wonder. Endymion 
made a small welcoming gesture to her, and the roses, as if sensing 
his unspoken greetings, bowed to her before resuming their dance.
	Her beautiful smile grew, and she looked at him in amazement. 
She opened her mouth to speak, blushed, and looked back down at the 
roses. 
	"You love these flowers very much," she said. "I can see it 
in your eyes."
	"I was raised with them."
	Endymion slowly withdrew his hand, but allowed the roses to 
continue the dance on their own. In time they would stop of their 
own accord, and then rest for a few hours. But they would shine 
brighter than any other flower around them for days. Endymion 
smiled, knowing that while the lives of those roses would be short, 
they would treasure their dance for as long as they bloomed.
	He sat back on the stone path, propping his arms up on his 
knee. "My mother always had fresh roses placed in my room every 
morning when I was younger," he said to Serenity.  "Every time I 
take in the scent of a rose, I'm reminded of her."
	Serenity nodded her head, and looked from the roses to him. 
"Then I shall see to it there are roses waiting for you at 
tonight's masque," she said.
	"Thank you." Endymion leaned back and stared up at the stars 
again. "It's good to see stars again, and not just the lights of 
the city. It reminds of northern Hokkaido. Watching the starlight 
shimmer over the new-fallen snow...there's nothing quite like it."
	Serenity blinked. "Snow?"
	"Yes, snow. It's white, it's wet, you slide down it." 
Endymion was surprised.  "You've never seen snow before?"
	She shook her head.
	"I've learned so much about so many worlds that I cannot go 
to," she said. "The kingdoms upon the moon are only echoes of their 
once rich and beautiful planets. There's no point in visiting a 
dead planet that has lost all traces of the life it once had. And I 
am not yet allowed out of the palace to visit the kingdoms on 
Lunaria."
	That caught Endymion off-guard. "Why not?"
	"My mother tells me I am not yet ready, that I am not yet old 
enough."
	"Do you believe her?"
	"I believe in her wisdom." Serenity cracked a smile. "I still 
disagree with her."
	Endymion had to chuckle. "Does she fear you might be attacked 
if you went out?"
	"No," she answered. "Lunaria is different; most people here 
worship my mother as if she were a goddess. They see me as the next 
messiah, as their saviour. I would not be attacked, but the crowds 
would gather so thickly that I would not be able to move. And if I 
am honest with myself, I do not know how to handle something like 
that."
	She sighed and set her sights upon the starlit heavens high 
above them. "I must wait almost an entire year before my next 
birthday comes to pass. When that happens, I will be considered old 
and responsible enough to visit the worlds outside this one. In the 
meantime, I learn all there is about them." 
	"My father took me almost everywhere with him," Endymion 
said, somewhat ruefully. "Never got a moment's peace, but then 
again I've seen every part of our country. Every little town and 
village."
	Serenity sighed again. "You are lucky to have a father like 
that."
	Endymion's eyes widened, much against his will, and a 
familiar pain stabbed at his heart.
	Serenity's face changed when she realized what she had said. 
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean...I forgot."
	"I know," he said. He did not try to calm her fears, but the 
lack of anger in his voice was more than effective in reassuring 
her. Even then, the sorrow and empathy in Serenity's eyes could not 
be assuaged so easily.
	"I'm still adjusting myself," Endymion said. He was surprised 
at how casually he could talk about it. "Knowing that he's dead, 
knowing that there is nothing I can ever do to bring him back. A 
few days before he died, he wanted to tell me or show me something; 
he said it was important to our country that I know of it. Things 
got busy. We never had the chance to finish that talk. I'll never 
know what it was.
	"Besides," he added, "my father took me everywhere after 
some...unpleasant events took place when I was younger. He didn't 
dare leave me at home, especially since my mother died when I was 
seven, and no one would be left to protect me."
	Endymion shook his head at his own melancholy, and brought 
himself back to his feet. He reached out a hand, and helped pull 
Serenity up. "I think I need to do a bit more walking," he said. 
"You object?"
	Serenity shook her head. "No."
	"It's all right if you don't want to, I won't be offended."
	Her arms wrapped around his once more. "I want to walk with 
you, Endymion," she said. 
	The continued down the path, which started to bend around the 
far side of the gardens. Soon they would be travelling back to the 
front entrance, and meet up with their respective escorts.
	"I do not know what has become of my father," Serenity 
quietly admitted as they walked. "I don't even know who he was, or 
what he looked like. My mother is all I have known. She is my only 
family."
	She paused, as if wanting to say something else but could not 
find the courage or the words. Endymion said nothing to fill the 
void, and let Serenity find the words to speak.
	"Sometimes," she said, "I fear that I will not be able to 
carry the burden of ruling. I have seen what you and my mother go 
through each day just to keep the peace between Earth and Lunaria."
	Serenity stared up at him. "I do not know if I possess the 
strength you both have."
	"You never do know until you're required to use that 
strength," Endymion told her. He smiled warmly at her. "For what 
it's worth, I think you will do just fine. You have your mother's 
eyes, and her heart."
	"Thank you." Serenity's arms wrapped around his a little 
tighter, and she rested her cheek against his shoulder. "You don't 
know how much it means for me to hear you say that."


				*	*	*
	The sparring room was more an arena, and a far cry from most 
of the Terran-Nihonjin dojo's Kunzite had attended. The wood and 
mats were auspiciously missing, replaced instead with grass and 
what resembled an enclosure of masonry stones.  Kunzite lifted his 
head to an open sky, and wondered if the noise from the battles 
within ever caught the ears of passers-by in the palace.
	"Interesting choice of décor," he said. It was as flattering 
a remark as he could manage; the room itself seemed wholly 
unnatural.
	"This is where the Sailor Soldiers trained centuries ago," 
Minako explained as she led him inside. The double doors swung 
closed of their own accord behind the two. "This ground is 
considered sacred. Everything was created and undone by their 
blood, sweat and tears."
	Her statements were cryptic, as if she were rehearsing lines 
that had been repeated over and over to her as she grew up. Kunzite 
knew he had his own mantras and beliefs that were unchanged from 
hundreds of years beforehand. Regardless, it felt disturbingly 
static to hear Minako recite her mantras, and Kunzite wondered if 
she had taken the time to carefully consider what she was speaking. 
He had been like that a long time ago--careless with his words, 
until two battlelines crashing against each other changed that.
	Minako turned around to face him, and Kunzite was reminded of 
the age gap between them. She was, in many ways, still a child 
fighting to understand what it meant to be 'grown up'. Yet she 
wanted to know, and was trying to learn, and Kunzite admired that.
	"So what will it be?" Kunzite asked. "Hand-to-hand, or 
weapons combat?" 
	"You're here at my request," Minako answered. "I'll let you 
choose."
	Kunzite had to chuckle. "I somehow think you are nowhere near 
a match for me at hand-to-hand. The balance is tipped rather 
heavily in my favour."
	"Years of experience will do that," Minako agreed. "So, what 
is your answer?"
	The thought of giving himself a complete advantage crossed 
Kunzite's mind only once. It was quickly dismissed. "Weapons," he 
said. Besides, he reflected, he wanted a sparring match, not an 
open disappointment. 
	"Aww," Minako said dejectedly as she heard his answer. "I was 
hoping for hand-to-hand. You might have lasted longer then."
	Kunzite arched one of his eyebrows at her as she sauntered 
across the length of the sparring arena. He prepared himself by 
cracking his neck, and getting into an appropriate stance. His 
right hand was poised over the hilt of his sheathed katana as he 
watched Minako take her place.
	She called out in Lunarian what Kunzite could have sworn 
sounded like, "Venus Star Power: Make-Up!", and then she was lost 
in a pillar of blinding, golden light. Kunzite had to squint and 
turn his head to the side. The light dissipated as abruptly as it 
had appeared, and in Minako's place was undeniably the Sailor 
Soldier of Venus.
	Kunzite tilted his head as he again noted just how much of 
her legs were being shown off. "Must be a diversionary tactic of 
theirs," he muttered to himself.
	"Do me one courtesy, General," Sailor Venus called out to 
him. "Don't hold back."
	"I might kill you," he said.
	Venus smiled warmly. "Even if you don't hold back," she said, 
"I don't believe you will kill me."
	The amount of trust she was putting in him was jarring. 
Kunzite quietly prayed that his experience and training would not 
fail him if it came to delivering a final but not fatal blow. There 
was no amount of explaining that could ever be done if the palace 
was suddenly minus one Sailor Soldier.
	Kunzite trained his gaze upon Sailor Venus. Her stance was 
unchanged, but her body had tensed. Kunzite quickly appraised her 
eyes, her clenching and unclenching fists, the placing of her feet, 
and to which leg she was favouring her weight. They were at a 
standoff, waiting to see which of them would make the first move.
	Many of the one-against-one battles Kunzite had faced in the 
past were either won or lost based on the first move. He wondered 
how quickly this sparring bout might be over depending on how much 
he restrained himself. For the moment, he decided, he would hold 
back and see just how good Sailor Venus was.
	Kunzite crouched low to the floor, then charged towards 
Sailor Venus. His movement was faster than most other humans, and 
his body grew into a blur as he fell upon Sailor Venus. Only at the 
last possible moment did he draw his sword and rake it an inch away 
from her chest. Or, what should have been an inch away from her 
chest.
	"Not bad," he heard Venus' voice from behind him.
	Kunzite's eyes widened, and he whirled.
	Unharmed, unscathed, and grinning not four steps away from 
him was Sailor Venus.
	 "I thought you had promised me you wouldn't hold back," she 
said.
	Her words made Kunzite chuckle. "This is getting 
interesting," he remarked, and attacked her once more. He thrust 
the tip of his katana at her heart, and Venus dodged his strike a 
second time. Kunzite attacked again, and Sailor Venus sidestepped 
what should have been a flawless slash across her face.
	She then lifted one of her legs and with perfect balance 
kicked Kunzite in the throat. Kunzite coughed and sputtered as his 
windpipe felt the heel of her shoe. He backed away from her, 
suddenly very wary of getting any closer to the young woman 
standing before him. 
	"Are you playing with me?" he asked her.
	Venus flashed him a coy smile. "Would you like me to?"
	She took the initiative now, racing towards Kunzite. Put on 
the defensive, he brought the flat of his katana to parry with one 
of Venus' powerful kicks. The force from her foot nearly sent him 
stumbling backwards.
	"You still have one weakness," he breathed, and slashed at 
Sailor Venus. The tip of his blade drew of trickle of blood along 
her left arm as she spun around his sword. Venus winced as she 
sensed her wound, but continued with her momentum, and rammed her 
elbow into the base of his neck.
	For as strong as she was, Kunzite barely registered her blow. 
	As Venus drew back her arm, he grappled onto her wrist with 
his left hand, and brought his sword arcing towards her waist. 
Suddenly Venus vaulted into the air with such incredible force that 
Kunzite had to let go or be dragged along with her. 
	He lowered his sword as he watched Sailor Venus summersault 
over his head, the ends of her pleated skirt dancing around her.  
Venus landed, and made a graceful little bow.
	"Okay," Kunzite said, not entirely sure what to make of it. 
"This is new."
	Sailor Venus was grinning, and it made Kunzite nervous. "Oh, 
if you liked that," she said ominously, then leapt backwards into 
the air once more. From above she levelled one of her hands with 
Kunzite's face.
	"Crescent Beam!"
	A surge of light exploded from her hand, and Kunzite's eyes 
widened as Venus unleashed her attack from two outstretched 
fingertips. Kunzite let his sword slash through the air and cleave 
her attack apart. Smaller bolts of Venus' attack scattered, still 
possessing enough force to burn the grass and tear at the edges of 
Kunzite's uniform.
	Sailor Venus was stunned by his unexpected defence. "I didn't 
know a sword could do that," she said as she landed back on the 
ground.
	"How fortunate for me my reflexes are as tempered as my 
blade," Kunzite scathingly added, "otherwise I might have been 
knocked through the wall."
	"Oh, I didn't channel that much power," Venus countered, and 
winked at him. "It would have knocked you into the wall, certainly; 
that was my plan. But not through the wall. Now let's try something 
else: Venus Love-Me Chain!"
	A golden chain made of up links forged to resemble hearts 
appeared, coiling itself around her. Kunzite took another step back 
and raised his katana, uncertain of what this new attack might 
bring.
	"What are you planning with that?" he muttered to himself.
	Sailor Venus pointed right at him, and the chain shot towards 
Kunzite with the speed and accuracy of a bowman's arrow. Kunzite 
frantically flung himself aside as the chain tore across the back 
of his uniform. He tumbled across the grass, and came back up into 
a crouch.
	"Damn thing nearly impaled me," he snapped, and got back up 
to his feet.
	Unlike her previous attack, Venus' chain did not vanish. In 
fact, Sailor Venus was gripping one end and making the chain dance 
like a whip. She cracked it, and sparks showered down over Kunzite. 
Venus flung the chain at Kunzite, and its end snagged his sword 
hand. Kunzite had a brief moment to stare in disbelief at the chain 
wrapped around his arm before Venus yanked hard and managed to tear 
the katana from Kunzite's grip.
	He was distracted.
	Sailor Venus charged him. She moved faster than he could have 
ever expected, and kicked his feet out from under him. Kunzite fell 
back onto the grass, Venus trying to push her knees into his chest 
to knock the wind out of him when he landed. She only partially 
succeeded; Kunzite let out a hoarse cry as his insides felt like 
they were being crushed, but he still had enough wits to react. He 
rammed the base of his palm into Venus' collarbone, and sent her 
tumbling off him.
	They both jumped to their feet, and of the two, Kunzite was 
looking the worse for wear. Sailor Venus winked at him again. "Had 
enough?" she asked.
	Drawing in a deep, calming breath, Kunzite took up a stance 
and focussed himself. Once more Sailor Venus attacked first, and 
what looked to be a punch turned into her hand-springing backwards 
and kicking Kunzite in the jaw with the tip of one of her shoes.
	Kunzite bit his tongue and tasted blood. He spat crimson on 
the grass, only to feel Sailor Venus' boot cracking against his 
shoulder blade. He whirled and drove his elbow as hard as he could 
into her chest, and Sailor Venus gasped for air. Her guard dropped 
entirely, Kunzite fell to his knees, grabbed onto her by the 
shoulders and flipped her head over heels across the sparring 
ground.
	Venus landed on her back with a dull thud, and Kunzite was on 
her before her body had the chance to bounce. He pressed one of his 
forearms against her neck, and let the thumb of his other hand stay 
poised over her eye. He had no intention of plunging it into her 
socket, or of strangling her. Nevertheless, Venus froze, and 
accepted her defeat.
	With a great sigh, Kunzite eased back and sat himself down on 
the grass next to her. Venus sat up, and gingerly rubbed her 
throat. "You were still holding back," she said between gulps of 
air.
	Kunzite nodded, just as winded himself. "For me, not holding 
back means someone else dies."
	"How many times did you have me? I counted twice."
	"Three times, and possible a fourth depending on your 
reflexes had I rushed you," he answered. "We'd never really know 
unless I was bent on killing you. Battle is a fluid beast; the 
balance of power can easily shift from the smallest of things." 
	"I agree," Venus said. "So how did I do?"
	Kunzite glanced across the arena, to where his katana laid. 
"If it's any consolation," he said, "you've put up more of a fight 
than I've had to contend with in years."
	His body protesting, Kunzite slowly drew himself back up to 
his feet. "And at last count, you also had me at least five or six 
times."
	"What was my weakness?" Venus asked. She poked at her chest; 
Kunzite hoped he hadn't broken or bruised any of her ribs.
	"Your size," he answered as he retrieved his katana. "You 
have agility and speed, but your arms and legs are shorter than 
mine. You can dance around my sword, but you have to get closer if 
you want to land any of those fancy punches or kicks. And you are a 
lightweight when compared to me. I can put more force behind any of 
my attacks, and absorb your attacks with less injury being dealt to 
me. Your punches are good, but against someone like me, they're 
mild blows. Your legs, on the other hand, are lethal. I would 
definitely recommend you using them as a basis for any plan of 
attack."
	Not entirely surprised, Minako sighed and nodded her head. 
"I'm used to fighting women about my size and stature," she said. 
"It's good to know I still have room for improvement. I won't get 
bored when I go back to Sailor Soldiers for sparring partners."
	Kunzite gave a slight nod. "And what about my weaknesses?"
	"Gravity, mostly." Minako laughed and gave him a consoling 
pat on the back. "That, and you can't summon raw energy from your 
palms."
	"Never had to worry about that before," Kunzite said with a 
wry smirk. "On Earth, everyone's bound by gravity, and the concept 
of magic is sketchy at best. Though I have heard of a few shamans 
and priests who can do interesting things with fire and lightning 
and little pieces of paper. Are you sure you're okay?"
	Despite her grimace, Sailor Venus flashed him a reassuring 
smile. "When I'm a Sailor Soldier," she explained, "I seem to 
withstand more considerable damage than the average person. So long 
as I stay like this, I should heal quickly. But what about you?"
	Her hand reached forward and wiped some of the blood off 
Kunzite's lips.
	"I didn't bite down hard," he said, shrugging his injury off. 
"I've had worse."
	"I'll bet you have," Venus agreed. "However, I'm going to 
have our healer examine you. I don't want people asking how or why 
I bloodied up one of the Terran delegates."


				*	*	*
	Nephrite knelt down upon the floor of his private bedroom. 
The lights were off. The door was closed and locked. Before him 
burned two small bowls of incense and a candle whose flame 
flickered blue. His eyes were closed, his hands reverently resting 
upon his knees. He reached out beyond the limits of his own senses.
	The ability to farsee was nothing like knowing the future, 
and was in fact a far cry from such an idea. Farseers were gifted 
with the power to see things from across great distances, to delve 
into the hearts of friends and adversaries, to know the secrets 
hidden deep within castles and earth. It was always a power that 
remained in the present, but by knowing the mysteries of the 
present, a farseer could manipulate the future into the outcome 
they desired.
	Farseeing was one of the reasons Nephrite had risen so 
quickly to take the rank of General despite his age. By seeing into 
the plans of his adversaries in battle, he had always appeared one 
step ahead of everyone. Many of his wars were fought and won with 
only a handful of his men succumbing to any injuries or fatalities.
	It was a morning ritual for him to at least attempt to 
farsee.
	However, this entire morning had found his mind clouded by 
other things, and he had lost the ability to focus with the 
precision that farseeing required. Yet now his thoughts were 
growing clearer, and he had time to be alone and without 
interruptions. Nephrite moved beyond the confines of his senses, 
and reached out to the world around him. He sought the stars and 
their wisdom. He sought answers to the questions he had. He sought 
out the source of it all.
	He found Beryl. 
	Nephrite's eyes flew open, and he found himself kneeling 
within a room that had no windows and only one door. The walls were 
silver, and adorned with designs etched in gold. It all looked 
distinctly Lunarian.
	Beryl reclined upon a sofa the colour of ripe apples. Her 
waves of auburn hair flowed over the armrest and dangled over the 
floor. She turned to Nephrite, and with a slight air of disdain 
said, "You are uninvited."
	Nephrite stared up at the woman he knelt before, and tried to 
get up on his feet. His knees became like ice, his legs as heavy as 
stone. "Who are you?" he said.
	"Ah, the obvious first question," Beryl drawled. "I was 
hoping you'd have a bit more flair or creativity, and not simply 
voice the obvious. Be content in knowing you can breach the edges 
of my mind, and not be burned by my name. But now your question has 
passed, and it is my turn."
	She leaned forward on her settee, and pinned Nephrite down 
with a chilling stare. "So then," she asked in a cold, dangerous 
voice, "what are you doing here?"
	"You tell me," Nephrite said.
	It was the best and only answer he had to give.
	Beryl's eyes raked up and down his form, then up again. Her 
gaze settled on his face, and she pursed her lips into a thin, 
vicious smile. "Aaaah, so that's it," she said. "A farseer. Your 
breed is rare, even here on the Moon."
	With a chuckle, she waved a dismissive hand at him. "I might 
just have use for you in the future after all."
	Nephrite awoke with a jolt, and found himself back in the 
darkness of his own bedchambers. His face was covered in a sheen of 
sweat, and he fought back the childish urge to turn on all the 
lights and never again dwell in darkness. Just having been in a 
dream with her sent fierce chills down Nephrite's spine. Who was 
that woman?
	"What the hell was that?" he muttered to himself. 
	A fine time this was shaping up to be for him. First the cold 
reception, then the boring masque, then the hangover, then that 
incident with Sailor Jupiter, and now this. 
	"No wonder the stars didn't want to tell me anything about 
this trip," he grumbled, and headed for the sink to wash the sweat 
from his face. "I wouldn't have gone if I knew this was going to be 
happening."
	He cleaned himself up, and returned to the light and comfort 
of the common room. Reading one of his books proved a futile 
effort; he could not make it through a paragraph without recalling 
that red-haired woman and her voice. It left him unsettled and 
restless, and Nephrite finally threw the book across the floor and 
stormed towards the front doors of their guest quarters.
	"Damn it all," he muttered. "Now I have to clear my mind 
after having already cleared my mind."
	Nephrite threw open the double doors, and nearly ran right 
into Sailor Jupiter. She was still dressed to play the role of a 
princess, and she looked as if she had been standing in front of 
his door for some time, debating with herself whether or not to 
knock. Quite surprised to see her there, Nephrite stood dumfounded 
and at a total loss for words.
	"I...I wanted to apologise," Jupiter said finally. Her eyes 
were trained on the ground. "I offended you earlier, and it was 
uncalled for."
	Nephrite groaned inwardly and refrained from shaking his head 
at her. She had the most imperfect sense of timing. Had he not been 
so tense from his farseeing encounter, he might very well have 
accepted her apology without question. 
	"Yes, you offended me," he told her, "and I offended you 
right back. If you think that's going to earn yourself an apology 
from me, you're sadly mistaken."
	Jupiter's eyes widened, and she stared up at him in 
disbelief. "What?"
	"You started it, and now you've ended it," Nephrite said. 
"Bravo for you. I would applaud if I really cared."
	He tried moving past her, but Sailor Jupiter stepped out and 
blocked his path.
	"I didn't come here expecting an apology from you!" she 
protested. "I just don't want any ill-feelings between us getting 
in the way of our duties."
	At that, Nephrite did sigh.  "Did I teach you nothing, little 
Miss Sailor Soldier?" he said to her. "I don't care one way or the 
other. The only reason your words managed to dig into me this 
morning was because I was nursing a very sadistic hangover, and 
even then I did little to respond. Why? Think for a moment. Do not 
simply react. Think."
	Jupiter stared at him intently, and while she said nothing he 
could see that her mind was frantically in search of an answer that 
might placate him. That told Nephrite she would not find the answer 
on her own.
	"Say all you want about me," Nehprite said, "about all 
Terrans, about my lord Endymion. Taunt us, mock us, spit upon us, 
shun us. I don't care, because I believe that you are wrong. I have 
explored my doubts and confronted my demons. Nothing you can say 
can truly hurt me, because I dismiss it. I do not seek your 
approval, no more than I would seek the approval of anyone else 
here."
	He pointed down the grand corridor. "My prince is in there 
with your Queen, negotiating peace when everyone else, even you, 
would deign to even look upon us. Make no mistake, even if Lunaria 
is superior to Earth, the war would be long and bloody, and you 
would look upon your bloodstained hands with horror and wonder at 
what you had done. Would you act so lofty and smug after that? 
Would you still be any better than us, a planet of warring 
barbarians?
 	"I believe in Endymion, and I believe in what he is doing, 
because it is what I believe is right for the Earth. I trust him. 
Nothing you can say will shake that. You are only a stranger who 
has never even stepped foot on my world. Who gives a damn about 
what you think?"
	Jupiter still stared at him, but the blank and bewildered 
look in her eyes was being replaced with her fiery temper. Her 
hands balled into fists, and she fought to find some word that 
would make him shut up.
	She was starting to resemble a little girl being chastised 
before an entire classroom of her peers. Nephrite was still not 
about to go easy on her. It was a harsh lesson he was forcing upon 
her, but better she learn it now. She could hate him afterwards all 
she wanted. She could see him as an oni, a demon, but at least she 
would be thinking for herself.
	"You haven't given it a lot of thought, have you?" he said to 
the Sailor Soldier. "You've never for once stopped and asked why 
you were given this duty, or if you were up to the task. You can't 
even trust yourself. That is why you lost control: the words of a 
stranger who never before stepped foot on your world before 
defeated you without even trying."
	Jupiter stood rooted in her growing rage.
	Nephrite brushed past her as he headed off elsewhere. 
"Challenge me if you want, but only once you've faced your demons 
in the dark. I look forward to the day where I can stand against 
you and say things against you and your world, and you will not 
believe me. That will be a fight to remember, and worthwhile one to 
have. Until then, you're just wasting my time."
	He meant every word of it, and he looked forward to the day 
she could hold her own against him, and his verbal barbs would 
bounce off her psyche. But until then, she could only be just a 
little girl, and he would never see her as an equal.


				*	*	*
	After hours of ransacking the archives, Zoicite was forced to 
conclude that it would take him days before finding something that 
actually had any pertinence to the Seraphim Order. Most of any 
promising leads in the archival directories turned out to be 
scattered mentions of the role of the Seraphim in Lunarian history. 
Very little of anything was said of them; even in the written word, 
they were cloaked in secrecy.
	Zoicite closed another thick, dusty manuscript, and set it 
atop a growing pile of useless resources. He sat back in his chair, 
rubbed his eyes and wondered how much longer it would be before the 
words grew blurry or started running around on the pages on him.
	He was startled out of his misery by a new book sliding 
itself across the table towards him. Zoicite sat upright in his 
chair and stared at the book. 
	"I believe," came Garnet's voice, and it was speaking Terran-
Nihongo, "that this book might be of help."
	Zoicite looked up and saw Garnet, a wry smile on her face, 
standing across the table. Then he looked down at the scattered 
books on the table. A few had titles referring to Lunarian 
gardening, but the others were notably not garden-related. "I was 
just looking up some references on your gardens," he said, and 
stretched out his aching back.
	"You've been in here for hours, pouring over some of the 
lengthier books that haven't seen the light of day in years," 
Garnet replied. "What makes you think I'd be sold on a subject as 
ridiculous as gardening?" 
	"That obvious, huh?"
	Garnet looked down at him through her glasses. "Somehow I 
don't think most libraries keep their manuscripts on gardening 
right next to books on Lunarian military history."
	Zoicite could only shrug. "I tried. Does that count?"
	Garnet made her way around the table. Zoicite casually looked 
down at the book she had pushed in front of him. It was 
surprisingly thick and sewn together with a binding that was 
unfamiliar to him. On the cover was scrawled some very fanciful 
Lunarian runes. Zoicite might have been able to speak Lunarian 
quite fluently, but he knew he was very limited when it came to 
reading their language.
	The Lunarian script was not unlike the Chinese kanji, which 
made use of roughly 1,200 different pictographs representing 
various words, and could only be learned through rote memorization. 
Lunarian was no different--though their respective 1,500 different 
runes were very different from any form of kanji. In short, it was 
a headache to learn Lunarian, since it required strict memorization 
and had no basis for comparison among any of the Earth languages.
	"What book is this?" Zoicite asked, and flipped open the 
cover.
	"History of the Lunarian Guard," Garnet replied. "That seems 
to be what has you interested. The archive has a way of tagging 
books removed from the shelves. Helps me sort out how long they've 
been borrowed or missing, and where to find them. With all the 
books you grabbed at once, it caught my attention very quickly."
	With a chuckle, Zoicite said,  "So you're saying I should 
have taken them one book at a time?"
	Garnet shrugged. "That might have given you an extra hour of 
fruitless searching before I noticed." She gestured to the book in 
front of Zoicite. "See if that has what you need."
	Already getting sick of having to poorly translate all the 
Lunarian script, Zoicite made a face and closed the cover of the 
book. "It'll probably be as vague as the others," he lamented.
	"This is one of the most detailed and recent books about the 
guard that we have," Garnet said, somewhat confused.
	"I'm not interested in the palace guard," Zoicite said.
	He saw the confusion in Garnet's face deepen. She was also 
starting to grow suspicious. Zoicite considered the repercussions 
if he told her the truth, and in the end decided that, why not, she 
didn't have to know the whole dilemma.
	"The Seraphim Order," he told her.
	Garnet's eyebrows lifted up, and she whistled. "Interesting 
and high profile, though you should know that the Seraphim Order 
was dissolved about a decade ago. Wanting to do some comparisons on 
their training; see if you can adapt their exercises with you own?"
	That idea had certainly not passed by unconsidered, and it 
was tempting, but Ziocite had other priorities first. "Something 
like that," he said.
	"You should know that information on the Seraphim is still 
restricted to the general public," Garnet told him flatly. She 
grinned and added, "Luckily for you, the archivist is not 
considered a member of the general public. This way."
	She led him back down onto the main floor of the archives. In 
the very middle was what looked to be an old stone fountain, 
standing about waist-high. There was no water inside the basin. A 
shimmering orb of silver, decorated with ancient and intricate 
Lunarian runes, floated a few inches off the surface of the basin. 
Zoicite found it disconcerting to note how, while Garnet's 
reflection appeared on the surface of the orb, his did not.
	"Oh, you've noticed," Garnet remarked. "These things are all 
over the palace. They give us access to special records and 
archival databases. If your reflection shows up on these things, 
then you've got the clearance and authority to proceed."
	"We just have ranks and codes of discipline that can still be 
bypassed," Zoicite said. "I think I like your way."
	"Everyone has secrets," Garnet stated. "It's all a matter of 
knowing where and how to hide them."
	Garnet placed her palm upon the orb, and light sprang to life 
in the air above the fount. It was like looking into a large, 
round, semi-transparent mirror. Blurry colours were being projected 
into the air. The colours quickly gelled together and took 
definition and form. 
	Zoicite found himself staring at a screen displaying a 
message of greetings to Garnet. "Requesting location of all key 
archives containing records of the Seraphim Order," she told the 
orb. Zoicite noted how even now she was speaking Terran-Nihongo 
instead of Lunarian. The orb didn't seem to care, and recognized 
her voice regardless.
	 A short list of Lunarian runes appeared on the image.
	Garnet scanned the list, and tapped two specific tags on the 
list. "These ones," she instructed the orb.
	The orb took a moment to comply, and displayed a series of 
blueprints for the archives. The two items on the list were colour-
coded, which was just as well, since at least three different rooms 
of each colour were lit up. It all resembled a clutter of walls and 
halls, as far as Zoicite was concerned.
	Garnet seemed quite adept at clearing through all the clutter 
of the blueprints, and with a quick, sweeping glance memorized each 
of the locations. She removed her hand from the orb, and the 
display vanished from sight.
	"Four of the six locations are in restricted sections of the 
archives," she told Zoicite.
	He nodded. "What about the other two?"
	"You've already read some of the books from one section. I 
don't think the other books there will be of much help there. As 
for that last room..." Garnet frowned as she stepped away from the 
orb. "That's restricted even to me."
	Given the near omnipotent access she had to anything 
archived, her surprise also surprised Zoicite. "Does that happen 
often?" he asked.
	"Sometimes," Garnet sighed, and gave a helpless shrug. "Very 
sensitive material that cannot and does not go beyond the Queen's 
eyes, and also the Seraphim's eyes in this case, gets locked away. 
The doors here in the archive are sealed, and they'll open only if 
you can display a certain finesse or power. If the Seraphim are as 
mystical as the stories say they are, then only they could get into 
their own private archive."
	"Let's worry about that one if the need for a visit arises," 
Zoicite said, though he could not shake the feeling that in the end 
he'd have to cajole someone into that locked room. "Let's go see 
what the others have to offer first."
	Garnet led him down a set of stairs into the sub-levels of 
the archives. From there they weaved through a seemingly 
labyrinthine series of catacombs whose silver rocks shimmered so 
brightly that the darkness was turned into afternoon light. There 
were countless doors being passed. Some of them looked old and 
worn. Some of the doors were wooden and looked more recent. Some 
were plain, others elaborate. One door was made entirely of chains 
crisscrossing over each other, with a lock securing them all in the 
centre.
	"What exactly is in that room?" Zoicite asked as they passed 
the chain door.
	Garnet laughed aloud and replied, "Oh, that's just one of the 
bathrooms."
	She brought him down a few more corridors, and they stopped 
at a section of the wall. Zoicite stared at the silver stones, 
blinked a few times, and turned to Garnet. "I don't think this is a 
door," he said.
	"That's what you're meant to think," Garnet said with a 
knowing smile. "Why do you think very few people know that we have 
restricted rooms in the archives?"
	Garnet held out her hand to one of the stone blocks. The 
shadow she cast upon it revealed something Zoicite would have never 
believed had he not been there to witness it. Within her shadow 
appeared a bright light in the shape of a keyhole. For further 
demonstration, Garnet moved her hand away from the stone, and the 
keyhole of light disappeared entirely. When her shadow was returned 
over the stone, the keyhole reappeared.
	"Neat trick, isn't it?" she said.
	Zoicite could only gape and nod his head. 
	"Apparently being the archivist lends itself some sort of 
power that the majority of locked rooms here recognize," Garnet 
explained. "Maybe it's something from all the books that winds up 
saturating anyone who spends most of their life in here. A strange 
symbiotic respect, you could call it."
	"I wonder," Zoicite said, more to himself than to her, "if 
Ami would have the same ability to unlock these doors."
	Garnet shrugged as she drew out a set of keys from inside her 
robes. "Quite possibly," she replied, and began fumbling for the 
right key with her free hand. "She's in there a lot, and I swear 
the archives have a fond affection for her. It's like I can hear 
the books sigh wistfully whenever she enters the room. How else do 
you think I found the two of you so quickly this morning?"
	She located the proper key, and carefully slid it into the 
shadow-keyhole. There was an audible click. Garnet turned the key 
to the left, and abruptly the stone wall heaved and began to 
disappear. The shadow of her palm spread out like an octopus, 
darkness streaking out into a spider's web that soon began to fill 
itself in. Soon there was a shadow in the shape of a door before 
Garnet and Zoicite.
	"Just step inside, and we're there," she said, and gestured 
to the shadowy arch. 
	Zoicite studied the arch for a moment, and took a deep 
breath. "This has got to be the strangest story I'll never get to 
tell anyone else," he sighed, and walked into the shadow. 
	Garnet followed after him.
	Zoicite was startled to walk into momentary darkness, and 
then step out into a well-lit room that understandably lacked any 
windows. There were no books in this room. There were only scrolls. 
Some of them were stacked neatly atop each other to form pyramid 
designs. Some of them were resting in special pigeonholes or slots. 
Some had been rolled out atop one of the worktables. A number of 
them jammed up the opening to a large vase.
	Garnet appeared behind him.
	Glancing back the way they came, Zoicite noticed how the 
shadowy arch stayed constant on the inside of the room.
	"It helps us find the exit," Garnet told him as she walked 
further into the room. She was still speaking fluent Terran-
Nihongo. "When we leave through that door, it will appear in the 
corridor we just left."
	"I'm just not used to walking through stone walls," Zoicite 
said, still eyeing the shadow arch with some trepidation.
	Garnet chuckled to herself. "It's given rise to a few quirky 
ghost stories about the archives being haunted." 
	"You speak our language very well," Zoicite remarked. "You 
could easily pass for one of us with that accent alone."
	"I picked it up when I was a child," Garnet said. "Haven't 
forgotten it since. My family was on Earth for a while. An 
expedition...."
	Garnet's voice trailed off mournfully. 
	"Where were you?" Zoicite pressed.
	Garnet turned around and scanned a section of the pigeon 
holes, and then pulled out a map of Earth. She unrolled it on the 
table, and set down weights carved to resemble butterflies on its 
four corners. Her finger started towards Oceania, and Zoicite 
tensed, but then it veered off to one of the southern-most tips of 
Kyushu. 
	"We were here," Garnet explained. "My father, he...he thought 
he had finally found what he was looking for."
	This seemed vaguely familiar to Zoicite, but judging by 
Garnet's age, he would have been no more than a small boy when this 
had happened.
	"What happened?" he asked. "Something went wrong?"
	Garnet began to nod her head, then decided instead to shake 
it in a negative response. "I don't know. My parents used to be the 
archivists here; I grew up with most of these books. For as long as 
I could remember, my Dad's hobby was to search for some old ruins 
that might have predated the Moon Palace."
	"Ruins of cities that old are not so uncommon," Zoicite mused 
to himself. "Any in particular?"
	Garnet hesitated, and then reluctantly said,  "Elysian."
	Zoicite gave her a somewhat incredulous look.
	"I know what you're thinking, you more than anyone," Garnet 
said, and her voice sounded a little sad despite her smile. 
"Elysian is said to move from place to place, becoming as elusive 
as the very wind itself. It is a dream that drifts in and out of 
human sight whenever it wants to. Some believe it sank into the 
oceans, like Atlantis. Some believe it took flight and hides 
amongst the clouds in the sky."
	"There's a lot of legends about Elysian," Zoicite said, "and 
they all have a different idea about why it vanished and where it 
vanished to. But they all possess one common thread: Elysian was a 
paradise, a dreamworld, a heaven on Earth. All that is good in the 
world once flowed out from the waters of its springs, and brought 
strength and healing to whatever drank from them."
	They were both quiet for a time, staring down at the map of 
Earth.
	"Do you believe?" Garnet asked finally.
	"In Elysian?" Zoicite said, and shook his head. "I don't 
know. I've grown up in a world that tries desperately to stay one 
step ahead of the evil swarming around us. Elysian sounds 
wonderful, and I wish it was real, but it sounds no more real to me 
than a children's bedtime story. The only part of it I can 
understand is why Elysian would hide: to protect itself from the 
poison humanity has created in their hearts.
	"It's still a beautiful dream to chase after," he added. "Did 
your father find it?"
	Garnet's smile faded a little. "No," she said. "We found 
something, I guess, but I still don't know what that was. All I 
remember are the rocks caving in and bouncing down the cliffs. I 
lost my family that day. That's why I became the palace's 
archivist: to honour their memory, and their sacrifice."
	"Do you still try to search for Elysian?" Zoicite asked.
	Garnet shook her head. "No. It brings back too much pain for 
me." She removed the lower weights and let the map roll up on 
itself. 
	Zoicite looked around the room again, and realized he had not 
the slightest idea where to start looking. "What materials here 
refer specifically to the Seraphim?"
	Garnet pointed to one wall of pigeonholes. "All that. Of 
course, that's just in this room alone. My best recommendation is 
to start unrolling scrolls, and hope you find what you're looking 
for."
	She paused and then asked, "What are you looking for?"
	"Let's start with their abilities," Zoicite said, and he 
began moving towards the wall of pigeonholes. "What could they do; 
what they were trained to do; what sort of missions they were 
assigned."
	They began sliding scrolls out for reading and inspection. 
Garnet also requested that they remember put each scroll back where 
they had found it, so she wouldn't be forced to spend hours 
cleaning up later. 
	"Ah, I think I found something," she said, after a half hour 
of searching.
	Zoicite looked up with newfound hope, but Garnet sighed and 
shook her head. "Origins of the Seraphim," she sighed 
apologetically. "The first ones were hand-picked by the Lunarian 
Queen to replace some of the Sailor Soldiers who died during the 
fight against the Darkstorm. When no new Soldiers were born, the 
Seraphim Order was created as temporary replacements."
	Zoicite marvelled at the time frame. "Four hundred years is 
quite a long time for a temporary soldier," he remarked. "Let me 
guess: the Order was dissolved when it was discovered the new 
Sailor Soldiers had been born."
	"Four hundred years of tradition does not get tossed out like 
yesterday's trash so easily," Garnet stated, and unrolled another 
scroll. "From what I've heard, Halcyon spent a year or two 
deliberating. She did not come about that decision lightly."
	Her gazed shifted to the lines of writing on the scroll. 
"This looks newer. Hmm...not much of note. Just the newest candidates 
for the Order."
	Zoicite looked back over his shoulder as he selected a scroll 
of his own. "How are they chosen?"
	"From what I already know," Garnet replied as she skimmed 
over her scroll's contents, "most start showing the gifts and 
talents that would make them candidates during their late 
childhood. There seems to be no real pattern to those who have the 
abilities, though this indicates that there are some third and 
fourth generation Seraphim in the Order. Runs in the family 
sometimes, I guess.
	"You know, this is rather fun," she added. "I've never done 
any in-depth research on the Seraphim before. I just know most of 
the basics about them, and that's it."
	"Go back to the candidate lists," Zoicite said. "Do they give 
any indication of who became a part of the Seraphim?"
	If they had names of inductees into the Order, while it would 
still be a lot of work, he would at least have a starting place to 
casually see who might have disappeared along with Spinel.
	Garnet reread the scroll again, then took out another scroll, 
but shook her head after skimming that one. "No. It looks like this 
room has lists of possible candidates, but even those candidates 
don't know they're possible candidates. The actual lists and 
records of the Seraphim are probably in the 'Seraphim Only' 
chamber."
	They continued searching, going from one restricted room to 
the next. Zoicite scribbled down notes on anything he found that 
might have been pertinent to Spinel and the missing Seraphim. 
Unfortunately, what he found was vague at best. Most of the scrolls 
repeated themselves, or analysed the hierarchy of the Order (which 
still gave no indication of names), and the majority of the scrolls 
were just very detailed opinions about the recent dissolution of 
the Seraphim Order, and how that might impact the future of 
Lunaria.
	"I think I've learned more about the Seraphim Order in the 
last few hours than any other outsider has in their entire 
lifetime," Garnet said as she put the last scroll back into its 
pigeonhole. She sounded quite satisfied with the afternoon's work. 
"Come on, let's go back upstairs and take a break."
	Zoicite was not as spirited in returning to the main level of 
the archive. It was impossible to fight the sinking feeling in his 
stomach. They might never know just what Spinel was capable of 
until it was too late.
	Garnet brought them back up, and into a garden near the 
entrance to the archives. A patio overlooked a serene pool filled 
with congregating birds. Large palms and bulrushes surrounded the 
pond. It was a welcomed change from all the walls and books. 
Zoicite could feel the tension in his back start to loosen as he 
reclined in his chair and stared up at the glass ceiling, the 
folder of what he had been able to find sitting on the table in 
front of him.
	"I hope you enjoy this, General," Garnet said, setting down a 
glass filled with a thick, reddish liquid. "It's a fruit mix. Good 
for restoring energy and revitalizing the spirit."
	"I could use that right about now," he agreed.
	Zoicite took a sip and found the taste deliciously sweet. He 
sighed and took another drink. "Thank you, this is just what I 
needed. And you can call me Zoicite. I think our rapport has gone 
well beyond rigid formalities."
	"Coming from a high ranking, Terran-Nihongo General," Garnet 
said with a warm smile, "that's quite the compliment."
	"You deserve it," Zoicite stated. "No questions in my mind 
about that."
	Garnet drank from her glass and watched the nesting birds. 
Quite content to stare at the starry sky beyond the glass, Zoicite 
put his hands behind his head and tipped his chin to the ceiling.
	"Knock, knock, General," came Nephrite's casual voice behind 
them.
	"Good to see you mobile again, Nephrite," Zoicite remarked. 
He didn't even look away from the stars. "Offended anyone else 
lately?"
	Nephrite shrugged as he sat down in one of the empty chairs. 
"Maybe. I'll know if I get slapped at dinner." 
	"Same girl, or someone new this time?"
	"Same one."
	Garnet looked from one General to the next. "Do I even want 
to know what you're talking about?" 
	"Not really," they chorused.
	"Oh, I forgot," Zoicite said, and looked away from the stars. 
He made introductions for the two others. "General Nephrite, this 
is Garnet, the head curator of the archives. And a damned good one 
at that."
	Garnet bowed respectfully to Nephrite, and he returned the 
bow.
	"Speaking of dinner," Nephrite said, "it's going to be held 
in just over an hour from now. I thought I should stop by and see 
if you were planning on joining us. Or is your garden research 
requiring more time?"
	One of Garnet's eyebrows went up, and she gave Zoicite a 
half-amused expression.
	"It's okay, Nephrite," Zoicite said. "You can speak freely 
around her. She knows what we're looking for."
	Very sceptical, Nephrite slowly turned towards Garnet. "If 
you say so."
	"Hey, if it wasn't for Garnet, I'd have nothing to give you 
at all." Zoicite pushed the small folder into Nephrite's hands. 
"I've got as much as I can here. Let Endymion see it when he has 
the earliest chance."
	Nephrite glanced down at the folder, and noted how thin it 
was. "How deep are we?" he asked.
	Zoicite gestured eye-level. "The Seraphim's abilities range 
from person to person, but they do share such key skills as speed, 
swordsmanship, stealth, and a penchant for disobeying the laws of 
gravity."
	"Well that's encouraging to know," Nephrite grumbled, and 
shook his head. "What about their specialities?"
	"Some can jump so high you'd swear they were flying instead," 
Garnet spoke up.
	Zoicite and Nephrite turned their heads towards her.
	 "A few are rumoured to be able to camouflage themselves 
almost instantly," she added. She lifted up a small bundle of 
papers she had kept for herself for further scrutiny. "And if this 
one undocumented report is to be believed, one of them can turn 
himself into some sort of wolf or dog. I don't know."
	Nephrite's attention was now focused solely on Garnet, and he 
treated her with the respect he would any of his tactical advisors. 
"Anything else you can add?"
	Garnet shook her head. "Nothing else specific. Looks like if 
you want to borrow some of their techniques, you're going to have 
to discover those secrets on your own." 
	Nephrite paused, and then clicked in to just how much Garnet 
knew about the real situation. He smiled at her as he took the 
folder. "Thank you for devoting your time to our curiosities. I'm 
sure Endymion will be as grateful as both Zoicite and I am."
	While Garnet offered him a drink, Nephrite declined and 
ambled off to find Endymion. As far as Zoicite knew, Endymion would 
probably still be talking with Halcyon. He hoped those files would 
at least find their way into Endymion's hands before the masque 
tonight.
	"Well," Garnet purred, and stretched her arms out behind her 
head, "this was a wonderful romp of an afternoon. Thank you, 
Zoicite. Now, is that it for you?"
	Zoicite clenched his jaw, and in a quiet voice said, "No."
	Garnet sat up in her chair and looked at him with a mixture 
of confusion and suspicion. "What else do you need?" she said. 
"There are no actual records of their techniques here. All those 
were closely guarded by the Seraphim themselves. Even I don't know 
where to tell you to look. The best those documents can give you 
are some pointers and a few indicators of what they were capable 
of, and that's all."
	"I need more," Zoicite admitted.
	It was shaping into a confrontation, he knew it, and what 
worried him the most was how it was fast becoming obvious that he 
would have to brief Garnet on everything if he was to gain her 
trust and cooperation. A part of him didn't trust her; she was only 
someone he had just met, and the circumstances could get ugly, very 
ugly. A part of him didn't want to get a civilian involved, and 
there was a good chance Spinel or someone under him might kill her 
if they learned she knew too much.
	Telling her would be a calculated risk, and Zoicite was not 
willing to accept the responsibility of she was injured or killed. 
Not telling had the potential for destroying any and all trust they 
had established with each other during the afternoon's events. 
	Zoicite bit his lower lip and tried not to grimace so much. 
He hated decisions like these. So much hinged on variables he 
couldn't truly know until the decision had already been made.
	Garnet was watching him, and seemed to know that he was 
thinking fast and hard about what he should tell her. "What exactly 
do you need?" she asked, backing away from the issue momentarily.
	"I need you to get me into that last room," Zoicite told her, 
and he kept solid eye contact with her. Shifting his gaze away 
would make it appear as if he was aiming for some under-handed 
goal. "The room even you aren't allowed into." 
	"And the courtesy I have already extended you hasn't been 
enough?" Garnet snapped. Zoicite said nothing; she had every reason 
to berate him. 
	"As it is," she continued, "I've shown you more secrets about 
the archives than anyone else. Unless you have a good reason, and I 
mean a damn good one, there is nothing you could possibly say that 
would make me even consider breaking into the Seraphim Order's 
private archives and risk getting both of us killed for treason!"
	Zoicite quickly mulled over his options once more.
	He sat up in his chair, placed his hands on the patio table 
and once more met Garnet's eyes with his own unwavering gaze. 
"Garnet," he said, "You need to listen to me very carefully, and 
take what I'm about to tell you very seriously. I am entrusting you 
with these secrets. If I find you have dishonoured me by betraying 
that trust, planetary relations be damned, I will exact cold, 
bloody revenge."
	Garnet's face told him she was listening.
	"I need to find whatever records you might have of a group of 
Seraphim who vanished about twelve years ago," Zoicite said. "I 
need their names, their histories, and if possible their faces."
	She did not seem altogether convinced. "Why should I do 
this?"
	"You have to trust me when I say that your life is safer if 
you do not know the reasons why," Zoicite stated.
	"If my life is about to be placed in danger," Garnet 
retorted, "I need to know how serious it is. And right now, I think 
I hold all the cards since I'm the only one who can get you what 
you need."
	"It's not espionage," Zoicite told her plainly. "I'm not 
about to steal anything from the Lunarian empire. But I need those 
names and faces."
	Garnet's piercing gaze roved up and down Zoicite's form, 
evaluating his posture and his words and his own eyes. It was then 
that Zoicite realized just how deep Garnet's eyes were. There was a 
cutting brilliance within her heart, and the true depth of her 
character was reflected in those eyes.
	Finally, Garnet grumbled something to herself. She drummed 
her fingertips on the tabletop, then pulled her chair away from the 
table and stood up. "I know I'm going to regret doing this," she 
said. "The Seraphim archive is this way." 
	She began to walk off, and Zoicite got out of his chair to 
follow after.
	He waited until she turned away before exhaling a great sigh 
of relief. 
	"I am in your debt, Garnet," he stated, and he meant every 
word of it. "I hope one day I can repay you."
	"Let's just hope I never need to call in the favour," she 
dryly replied.
	They ventured back down into the underground corridors of the 
archives, and not surprisingly ended up in some obscure corner that 
otherwise looked to be a dead end. Garnet was busy studying the 
pattern of the stones. Zoicite kept throwing furtive glances over 
his shoulder, now more paranoid than ever about having been 
followed.
	The corridor remained quite empty.
	No other sounds could be heard save for their own footsteps 
and breathing.
	"The Seraphim's private archive doesn't show up on any of the 
archival maps, truth be told," Garnet was saying as she let her 
fingers drift over the textures of the stones. "But when you've 
been in the archives for most of your life, you pick up on one or 
two secret things you're not supposed to."
	"I'll bet," Zoicite agreed. "So just how do you plan on 
opening a door that's not even supposed to be there?"
	Garnet smiled and began moving towards one stone in the 
bottom right corner that caught her eye. "That's what makes the 
Seraphim so clever," she said. "They make it simple enough for a 
child to solve, but since no children ever come down here...."
	"That's a cryptic answer," Zoicite said.
	"Only if you're an adult. Adults over-complicate things. The 
Seraphim don't think that way. Incidentally, get ready to run, and 
I do mean fast."
	Zoicite glanced back at her. "Why?"
	Garnet pushed the base of her palm against the stone, and 
with a dull clunk, the stone sank deeper into the wall. Zoicite was 
ready to congratulate Garnet, but she leapt to her feet and raced 
past him.
	"Come on!" she shouted over her shoulder. "The Seraphim move 
faster than us, so we've got less time!"
	Zoicite needed no further encouragement. He gripped his 
katana at its hilt and chased after Garnet. She was surprisingly 
pretty fast for someone who was not wearing any sort of running 
shoe or boot. Her reading glasses were held tightly in her one 
hand, and her strawberry-blonde hair flowed behind her. Zoicite was 
able to match her speed, and they raced breakneck down the long 
corridor.
	"Here!" Garnet shouted, and ducked so quickly into a 
seemingly harmless side-hall that Zoicite nearly ran right past 
her.
	At the far end of the hall, a doorway had appeared and opened 
itself up to whomever might be standing in front of it. Garnet was 
running straight towards it. They were halfway down the corridor, 
and the door began to swing itself shut. Garnet barely managed to 
move around the door and get inside. Zoicite had to throw himself 
through moments before his boots would have been crushed in the 
doorframe.
	The two collapsed onto the floor.
	"What's so childishly intuitive about that?" Zoicite said 
through gasps for air.
	"An adult would expect a Fulcrom lever like that to reveal a 
door in that passageway, and spend days looking just in that dead 
end," Garnet explained, panting heavily herself. "Only a child 
would think that if the door didn't appear there, it might have 
just opened another door somewhere else on the level."
	Zoicite lifted his arms and hoisted his chest off the ground. 
"I would have expected secret passages or locked doors that only 
the Seraphim had access to," he said, and rolled over.
	"Anyone would have," Garnet agreed, "and as a result 
dismissed the actual door. Pretty brilliant, if you ask me."
	"Still haphazard, if this place needs to be hidden so well."
	"Would you have thought of looking here?"
	After a moment's pause, Zoicite admitted, "No."
	Once they caught their breaths, they stood back up and headed 
over to one of the tables lining the middle of the room. There were 
a number of scrolls resting in pigeonholes, but most of the 
materials were single sheets of old paper stacked neatly atop each 
other and placed inside intricately-designed chests.
	Zoicite opened up one random chest and began leafing through 
the documents. He could not help but grin when he realized they 
were actual records of the Seraphim Order's members. Births, 
deaths, initiation dates, lists of any special skills, evaluations: 
they were all documented and sitting in this room.
	He laughed and turned to Garnet. "This is exactly what I 
need."
	"Good," said a third voice in the chamber. "Then you can tell 
me why you need it, before I kill you both for trespassing."
	Zoicite spun around, placing himself between Garnet and the 
corner from which the voice had come. His hand wrapped around the 
grip of his katana, his muscles tense and ready to unsheathe his 
weapon.
	Where there had only been a stone wall, something shifted and 
the air rippled. Zoicte deliberately blinked his eyes; it looked as 
if he was seeing some ghost or mirage. The air moved in cascades 
and waves, and as if a curtain of invisibility had been pulled 
away, a man stepped forward.
	He was tall, taller than Zoicite, and looked very 
unimpressed. There was no mistaking his physical fitness, despite 
the thick, fishbone-white hair atop his head. He was dressed in a 
form-fitting uniform of black and scarlet, and across his head was 
a bandana attached to a metallic plate.
	The plate bore a strange and beautiful design, resembling a 
set of wings, but Zoicite knew what it was. He had seen it enough 
times over the course of the afternoon, and his blood ran cold when 
he saw the crest of the Seraphim Order.
	"Halcyon Queen told me that someone might try to break into 
our archives," the Seraphim said, and his voice was not friendly. 
He glanced down at Zoicite's sword. "The penalty has always been 
death. If you have nothing to confess to me now, then you both will 
die before the blade of your sword is drawn."




	The dance continues soon with the swords of the Seraphim...





Sailormoon, its characters, struggles and story, are copyright and 
the children of Naoko Takeuchi. No recognition of my story can be 
made without giving her proper recognition first. There are 
original characters in my story (Garnet, the Seraphim, Spinel, the 
twins at this moment), and if you wish to make use of them I'd 
rather you asked first rather than after the fact.


Close, personal thanks goes out to: Mel, who always made sure to 
tell me what I was doing right and what I was missing; to the Fic 
Bitch for making some caustic, off-hand editorial remarks that have 
since found their way into the story; and to Meara, who's always 
been a great editor, friend and sounding board.


My sincerest appreciations to Andrea & George for creating, 
updating, maintaining and revising 'A Sailormoon Romance.' 
(www.moonromance.net) It is good to know that so many wonderful 
stories will always have a home at ASMR, and it is a good home I 
will always enjoy coming back to.


Email Chaos at: hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com