Writing Contest: February
Reincarnations of Serenity and Endymion


Blood pounded against her skull and she took a long, shallow breath, but it was too late - discomfort had set in. Releasing her breath in a gusty, groaning sigh, she flipped over onto her stomach, the picture across from her going right-side-up just as it changed to the next landscape: a beautiful waterfall scene from some unknown lush forest, with beautiful blue skies and puffy white clouds. Wistfully, she scooted back on her bed and put her chin in the palm of her hands, watching dreamily as the water fell over the cliff edge and crashed upon the rocks below. Glimmers of multi-colored light flashed as a bird flitted from tree to leafy tree, and she reached for the remote to turn on the sound, only for her com to blip at her. She frowned, blue eyes on the device and back to the serene image, letting the device sound off for a few moments as she considered just letting it go and pretend she was doing something important, but then she saw the name of the caller flashing at her wrist and extended her arm to grab the earbud and fit it into place, pulling herself onto her knees so she could speak properly.
 
“Hi Raven!” she greeted cheerfully, lifting her finger over the earbud --
 
“You forgot, didn’t you?” the deadpan voice accused. 
 
She decided not to initiate a video convo. “Forgot? What do you mean?” she laughed nervously, flipping her wrist around to take a look at her watch again, tapping the screen to change functions to calendar and schedule and ‘important notes!’ and finding, in the latter category, pinned with a yellow star, a note that sent her flying off of her bed and towards her closet for her jacket and boots. 
 
“I mean you forgot, rockhead! You’re going to be late – don’t bother coming!”
 
“Raven!!” she cried, kicking on her last boot as she flung her door open and ran up the stairs to the living pod, past her mother, who looked up from a botany experiment just as the front door slammed shut behind her. “Raven I’m almost there! Hahaha, see I was kidding!” she implored, taking heart that she hadn’t been hung up on yet as she dashed around a corner, past a neighbor with their arms filled with green goods, and down the long corridor, back towards the public spaces.
 
“Don’t lie to me!” Raven exclaimed, then quieted, her voice a whisper in her ear, “Listen, the doors close in five minutes – I’ve got to go. Don’t be late or I’ll stop covering for you in the morning.” The line went silent just after, so Raven never heard her pitiful whine of a response. 
 
She hated running - she hated the entire experience of running – and yet she was always running! Up a ramp and finally out of the “neighbourhood”, into the wider corridors of the various stores and shopping and a few of the citizen-scientist labs – the performance dome wasn’t that far, she might actually make it! With a fresh wave of determination, she flew around another corner, her long hair almost sailing out behind her with how sharp she took it, and ran straight into someone. Her nose hit something hard and she and her assailant jolted; hands wrapped around her shoulders in an attempt to stop both of them before they fell over backwards completely, both staggering, fighting for balance. Her wordless exclamation of something-like-“Oh!”-meets-something-like-“Ah!” was drowned by their – er, his – exclamation of “Hey!” but they managed to stop before it was too late. 
 
She disengaged, holding up both hands in a surrendering move as “Sorry!” burst from her lips, but with nose pounding she doubled over, putting her hand to her face to see if it was bleeding, unable to help herself, “What are you doing wearing an EXC indoors anyway?!”
 
“I – “ he sounded close, and flustered – had he bent over to see if she was okay? That was kinda sweet – “Me?! What are you doing tearing around corners?!” he shot back, much less sweet. 
 
“None of your business!” she snapped at him, pulling back and inspecting her hand. No blood. She straightened, her alarm finally going off on her watch – which meant Raven’s event was starting – and groaned. “I’m late!” she exclaimed, dancing out from in front of him, “Listen, buddy, no blood, no foul!” and kicked off again –
 
Only to hear heavy footfalls following her. “’Listen, Buddy’?!” he called, easily catching her, “’No blood, no foul’?! I didn’t hear an apology in any of that!”
 
They dashed up a short staircase, heading for the tunnel ahead, “You were the one walking on the wrong side of the hallway!” she returned heatedly, glancing over and immediately regretting it. He was cute. Too cute. Black-hair-and-blue-eyes-perfect-face cute. She immediately looked away, focusing on the path ahead. She would not let her resolve weaken! Her righteous indignation fueled her sprint! The doors were so close!
 
“You think this is my fault?!” he questioned incredulously, his deep voice lilting up in disbelief towards the end, “You’re running at break-neck speed around corners – what if I had been some poor old lady you knocked over, huh?”
 
“Then the old lady would’ve been on the wrong side of the hallway!” she insisted, her voice rising. She ignored the port-hole windows in favor of rushing to the entrance, skidding to a stop so she could pull open the large glass doors – to her surprise, he actually helped her – and then squeezed through and ran for the winding staircase. Her lungs burned, her legs ached, all of the weariness coming on at once as she jogged painfully up the stairs, whining as she went; she reached the landing she needed and loped to the door, huffing and puffing painfully towards the closed barrier. She was so close. So close. She leaned up against it and softly pounded, barely able to make her arms move; maybe they’d let her in. Maybe they weren’t as strict as Raven had led her to believe. Maybe –
 
The door beside her opened slightly and she could have cried with relief. Before they could change their mind she stuck the toe of her boot in the door and offered the girl a tired smile, “Sorry I’m late!” she wheezed. The girl – an usher? – put her finger to her lips and opened the door a little wider to let her in, then pointed to a string of empty seats on the far end near the back. She nodded and dragged herself over, the thought of a chair overpowering any notion of looking for a seat closer to the front or the aisle. With a sigh she settled into the plush audience chair, her eyes closing finally relaxing... until someone took the seat right next to her. She sat up straight, thinking it could be an organizer – or worse, a professor – there to chastise her, but instead it was him. She narrowed her gaze at him, then looked forward, crossing her arms as she slouched in the seat. “You didn’t have to follow me in,” she whispered.
 
He paid it no attention. “So what is this?” he whispered instead, looking forward curiously, far less winded than she was – which wasunfair, but then she had run farther and he looked like he was fresh out of some sort of training program or something that probably had him running for hours. No one else would wear an EXC suit this far in. She looked over again, wondering if it had any dirt still on it, and couldn’t help but notice the strong angle of his jaw, or his straight nose, high cheekbones, long fingers… No! He was definitely annoying and she was not attracted to that!
 
“Talent show for the summer festival,” she replied anyway, despite herself. He surprised her then by looking over, but while his dark blue eyes looked to her at first, they were continually pulled behind her, through the thick glass between them and the pale-tinted ice-wall that separated them from the Martian landscape. The way his eyes moved, taking it all in, softened the stubborn line of her lips; his actions were so honest, and yet he attempted to cover them, like he wasn’t enthralled by what he saw. It was endearing. Well,almost endearing – she certainly wasn’t falling for it. Putting on her cheekiest expression, she asked, “You’re new, aren’t you?”
 
He looked guilty, seeming to sink in his seat a little, and she almost regretted the tease. It wasn’t even a tease anyway, right? Just the truth, but he seemed self-conscious about it and it made her feel weird. He took a breath to speak when someone turned around andshh’d them loudly; she blushed, he seemed to bite his tongue, and they both huddled farther into their seats as a younger kid sat down to their cello and began to play. While they didn’t exchange a single word for the remainder of the show, she felt like she had gotten to know him a little, the way his breathing matched the measures of the music, his foot or fingers tapping out the beat to the up-tempo numbers; they both laughed at the same things when a would-be comedian tried out their material – even the less than mature punch-lines that had her in stiches seemed to get him, too. 
 
When Raven came on stage to sing, she was up on her feet cheering her on from the back row, and when she finished and took a bow, she made a point of yelling out, “That’s my friend Raven!! She wrote the lyrics and composed the music!!” loud enough to make Raven bow a second time with the fresh wave of applause (and a bit of laughter at the enthusiasm). The show didn’t have too much longer after that; a few more musical routines, another comedy act – this one wasn’t very good, but she laughed at the jokes to make the performer feel better – a dance routine or two, and finally all performers were brought on the stage to sing an anthem to call it a night. The audience stood and sang along to the old tune; her “friend” stood respectfully, but didn’t sing. As the song ended and everyone applauded again, she made to make her way to find Raven at the front of the auditorium before the rush of people, but found herself almost trapped, the EXC suit guy with those intense blue eyes was staring out the window again, blocking the quicker route down the row to the aisle. She looked over her shoulder and saw what he was staring at – the sunset. 
 
“Different from Earth’s, isn’t it?” she asked quietly as the crowd worked their way out, leaving the two of them isolated, like an island in the sea. She turned to look at it with him, seeing what he saw, but comparing it to the image window back in her room. “The colors are swapped, right? On Earth the sunset is red and orange, instead of blue…” she trailed off; ‘red and orange’ didn’t fit the description atall. Sunsets on Earth were filled with color and light, all pinks and oranges and yellows and reds, with dark purple or light orange clouds, fading out like a rainbow from the light blue sky; what she would give to see one of those in person – 
 
“It’s beautiful,” he said openly, and her reverie broke around those simple, heartfelt words. 
 
She looked at the sunset again, how the butterscotch sky faded to reddish-pink, then then blue around what was left of the sun, almost purple at the horizon today. Utopia Planatia’s red sand looked almost brown, the darker rocks were pockets of darkness spotting the otherwise calm sand-sea; it was pretty, sure, but it was also cold, whereas Earth’s sunset was like the embodiment of warmth. But then, through the blue glow, she saw two bright stars come shining out of the darkness, and smiled. One was bright yellow, the other deep blue: Earth was out tonight. If they waited for the sun to completely set, they might even be able to see Earth’s Moon.  She smiled at the thought, staring at the pale blue dot in space, imagining the planet’s surface, the sights, the sounds, the freedom of being able to walk on ground that didn’t always crunch under your feet, to be surrounded by air that wouldn’t suffocate you, to roam without an environmental suit. While she couldn’t be there, the idea of Earth was sometimes enough. “Yeah, I guess.”
 
“So I see you made it, Pandora,” a somewhat cocky voice teased. She turned and grinned when she saw Raven standing there, all sophisticated with her long black hair pinned stylishly into place, wearing a red and black performance dress that looked amazing on her – she was about to pose dramatically to accept the veiled praise when Raven’s purple eyes fell on – well, whoever he was – and her brows raised mischievously, “And you brought a date?”
 
She gasped, her jaw dropping, and immediately stepped away from the EXC-suit guy and exclaimed forcefully, “He is not my date!” barely resisting the urge to point at him when she said it! “He’s far too annoying to be my date!” she continued, feeling a little toouncomfortable with the notion, her heart beating quickly due only to the idea that she could be somehow connected to this guy in a romantic fashion – which would not, could not ever happen!
 
He snickered, “Your name is Pandora?”
 
Typical. “See?!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms, “Far too annoying.”
 
“Whatever you say,” Raven shrugged dismissively, and she knew she wasn’t going to live this down anytime soon. “So, Not-Pandora’s-Date, do you have a name along with that Excursion Suit?” She loved how Raven could be so bold so effortlessly, and come off so cool doing it. Her confidence was practically legendary – she could do anything she put her mind to and make it look easy; she admired her tremendously, even when she was making her life challenging. 
 
“Aurelius Triston,” he replied smoothly, barely ruffling at Raven’s prod. She couldn’t help the eye roll – Aurelius? How pretentious could you --- “Like Pandora is any better?” he stated flatly, calling her on thoughts and making her blush.
 
She crossed her arms and sniffed, “Conquered any nations recently?”
 
“Opened any boxes recently?” he quickly rebutted.
 
“Both of your names are unfortunate, can we move on?” Raven cut in quickly, folding her arms impatiently. Pandora backed down, pouting her lips and looking away from Aurelius – really though? Aurelius? – and nodded. A silent beat passed before Raven asked, “Why are you wearing that, anyway?” motioning, she guessed, to the excursion suit. 
 
“I had just taken my first tour of the colony when I was nearly bowled over by this one; I hadn’t made it back to my quarters yet to change,” he explained, the ‘this one’ designation not lost on her. He apparently didn’t know that the EXC suits were typically stored in lockers near the main airlock.
 
“He was walking on the wrong side of the—“ she heatedly began in her defense, but Raven waved her off –
 
“That’s typical of her; listen, have you eaten?” She pouted further at the ‘typical’ part, but the mention of food kept her interest. A quick glance caught him shaking his head no, and Raven continued on, saying the best sentence: “Want to join us for dinner?” – not that part, the next part – “My name’s Raven and my parents had to go, but they left me their card; I was thinking of going to the Hall of Aries for some Italian.” She loved the Hall of Aries!! It was so much nicer than the cafeteria! They make your food to order instead of going off of the menu schedule – whatever you want, exactly when you wanted it – including desserts! It was usually reserved for birthdays and special occasions but Raven’s father was a bigwig in the colony so of course he could go whenever he wanted! What was she going to order?! Pasta? Oooh, a meatball sub?! Pizza?! Maybe they had breadsticks – oh and dessert! Ice cream or cake?!  Ice cream and cake?! There were so many options!!  But Aurelius hesitated – newbie mistake – and Raven added, “Think of it as repayment for whatever she just put you through and a welcome to the Colony; I’m sure you’ve got questions that we could answer?”
 
“… Sure, actually,” Aurelius agreed – really though? That name. “That sounds nice.”
 
Raven nodded crisply and led the way, “We’ll stop by your quarters first so you can get out of that suit and freshen up; I know it’s not as comfortable as some would lead you to believe.”
 
[……………..]
 
Half a bell later they were being seated at Aries and the menus were delivered and she was pouring over the options as Raven was giving Aurelius a quick history of the base, and if he had heard it before he was being really polite in letting her retell it. Pandora remained quiet, studying her options – not his interested expression – and was trying to decide between a side of rice or a side of macaroni and cheese, but was getting distracted by the little interested noises he was making. Oh-Really-us – just thinking his unusual name gave her a mental mouthful – he needed a nickname if he was going to continue hanging around. Lee, maybe? Lius? Auri? Maybe just his last name – that hadn’t sounded nearly as weird: Triston. Almost normal, really. … but then he was a weirdo and weirdos deserved weird names –
 
“Can I take your order?” a familiar voice asked, and she jumped but was ready with her answer!
 
“I’d like the cheesy-fries appetizer with a personal pepperoni pizza and a side of macaroni and cheese!” she declared with a big smile. She ignored Raven’s mixed look of repulsion and embarrassment – the waitress was an upperclassmen of theirs – and EXC-suit-guy’s (he wasn’t wearing his suit anymore, but anything was better than Aurelius until she could pick out a nickname) look of confused curiosity and just waited, sipping on her carbonated beverage – really though, Aries was great! – as they made their much more boringmeal choices and the waitress left. 
 
“So, what brings you to Aries Colony?” Raven asked, putting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers together, resting her chin daintily as she watched him; menus out of hand and the possible mention of Earth coming up, Pandora payed attention, too, though not so obviously: she looked at the murals rather than at him as he responded, but his response did draw her attention back occasionally. 
 
For example, he didn’t answer immediately, which was weird – usually people came right out with ‘I was transferred’ if they were military, or ‘My application was accepted’ if they had actually wanted to come to Mars, like if they were a scientist, but he looked almost uncomfortable with the question… almost like he didn’t know how to answer it, unsure of what to say. “Transfer,” he finally said.
 
“Military or Scientist?” Raven prompted, poised and cool and confident, but not letting the subject drop.
 
“Both, I guess,” he replied uneasily.
 
“What’s your field?” Raven continued; Pandora was getting a little curious at this point, wondering if her wild theories were anything like Raven’s at this point. Maybe he was a spy, or maybe a replacement for somebody who didn’t know they were going to be replaced?
 
“Physics,” he said easily, “With some astrodynamics and aeronautics thrown in for good measure.”
 
Both she and Raven nodded absently, “Pilot?”
 
“Pilot,” he confirmed. 
 
“Here to test the new plane, I presume?” Raven leaned back in her seat, the mystery gone now; one of the colony’s primary experiments was designing a more efficient plane that could transfer not only cargo, but people, between colonies across Mars. They were finishing the first prototype now, and while they had a good number of pilots within the colony, a few more had been periodically trickling in as the project neared completion. He was just one of them – probably the youngest they’ve seen come through yet, but still, just a pilot –
 
“New plane?” he repeated, and just like that, they were interested again.
 
“What brought you to Mars, then?” Raven inquired, leaning forward. Pandora often wondered what Raven would choose to do with her future; part of her hoped she either became an investigative journalist or a detective with law enforcement – she’d be so good at it, and then maybe she would be reassigned to Earth and she’d take her best-friend/trusty side-kick with her and let her in on all of the secrets she was finding out while bringing her along on a whirlwind adventure across Earth’s seven continents – 
 
“I was transferred,” he answered, but it… didn’t seem that simple? She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why that struck her as a little off, but maybe how long he took with admitting that earlier versus how easily he admitted it now, or how his shoulders sunk a little, almost like a shrug, or how he wasn’t meeting their eyes but staring down that the complimentary bread – or what was left of it. Sadness tugged at her, looking at him.
 
“Was it your choice?” she asked quietly; he looked up, like he hadn’t expected her to say anything, and those startling blue eyes caught her for a moment, until he abruptly looked away without a word.
 
Raven’s voice was low, her body language changed drastically from interested to anything-but, looking at her red nails and brushing the polish absently, “Does it have anything to do with what’s going on on Earth?” 
 
She had no idea what Raven was talking about – what was happening on Earth? Why hadn’t Raven told her something was happening on Earth? Looking from Raven to EXC-Suit so quickly her pigtails hit the back of the plush booth with a thunk, she waited to see what he had to say before demanding answers from Raven, but he kept his mouth shut, looking away uncomfortably. 
 
“It is, isn’t it?” Raven prompted, but he didn’t say anything. She was about to say something when Raven finally got him to talk, asking, “How bad is it?”
 
At this point Pandora’s head was jumping from one terrible conclusion to the next. Another World War, maybe, or more of an environmental breakdown that was forcing people who could leave to leave – what if that was what drove the plane project? – more transportation to all the Mars Colonies that were to come because of some catastrophic event on Earth? Could they even support themselves without the fresh supplies from Earth? How long had they been keeping this a secret from everyone? Did Raven know because her dad knew? What other changes were coming? What about planet Earth itself? 
 
“It’s getting bad,” Aurelius replied softly, wrapping his hands around his coffee mug, catching her attention completely. As though he could feel their eyes on him, he eventually continued, “The attacks are becoming more frequent and more hostile all over the globe; their rhetoric is either catching on and spreading, or key people in power have been talked over to their side, or converted, or whatever they call it – either way, one day someone would be standing up against these people and the next they’re all for this change, spewing the same hate-filled stuff as the others. The confirmed monster sightings have increased – there’s a new one every day; sometimes it’s taken down, other times it escapes and pops up elsewhere in another mob of unconscious people. The original reports of the knock-outs being caused by some fast-acting super-virus spread by the creatures is still widely accepted, despite survivors having no such indicator in their blood; it’s saved more people, making them run at the first sight of these things, but still… it’s not enough. It’s like whatever is behind this is growing in power the more damage is caused, the more victims it takes. Local police and military have had some success, but the people doing the most good – the people who were actually responsible for survivors who completely recovered, are in hiding or keeping their identities a secret – it’s a smart move, but it’s hard to contact them because they refuse to take coms on the off-chance their locations could be tracked. I don’t blame them at all for keeping so quiet and off the grid, especially with how often people in power seem to flip-flop on the issues, but if they shared what they were doing, told the right people how they were defeating the enemy so quickly and effectively, this war could be going a very different way.”
 
As he paused, her mind raced, trying to put together what he said and connect the dots to make a full picture, but what was standing out to her didn’t make sense. Monsters? Crowds of people unconscious without any sort of viral tracer? Was he speaking in some sort of colloquial? Were “Monsters” the new buzz word for terrorists? Were they using a biological weapon, and that was what was knocking people out? The people in power flip-flopping – being ‘converted’ – did that just mean they had been bought? Her heart pounded uncomfortably, squeezing in her chest, her mind processing what he had said even as it remembered that serene scene from her picture window with the birds and the waterfall. Earth was in trouble, but it would survive, right? It had made it through three world wars and an entire era of people not caring about protecting the environment – it could survive this. … but would people be around to admire it afterwards?
 
She wanted to help – she wanted nothing more than to help, to leave right then, go to Earth, and do something to stop whatever was going on, but what could she do? She was still in secondary school. She wasn’t making the best grades, she wasn’t particularly inclined to science or mathematics – she couldn’t help with figuring out what was going on, except, maybe, in a research assistant position, but there were bound to be thousands of people researching the same thing. What could she do that would actually help?
 
“I was transferred off planet because some friends in high places learned something and wanted me as far away as possible,” he stated sourly, then took a long drink. 
 
“What did they find?” Raven prompted.
 
“I don’t know. They were keeping quiet about it, and just as I was catching on that they were hiding something my transfer papers came in.” He put his drink down and sat back in his seat, his hands in his lap as he looked away, his face in profile to her. His friends must have been trying to look out for him; she liked that he didn’t seem to appreciate it. She glanced to Raven, a frown forming on her lips. She didn’t like it, either. 
 
“What about those other people,” Raven said, ignoring her look if she had even noticed it, “the ones that are actually making a difference – the ones with the survivors that won’t get in contact – who are they? What are they like? Who do they stand for?”
 
He shrugged again, almost dismissively, like talking about this was disheartening enough for him. “It’s strange – they’re strange. They wear costumes, like super heroes from old comic books, and while they have never been directly filmed doing so, some survivors from incents they were involved in say they can use magic. My guess is they’ve created some insane technology they should be sharing with others, but then again if it got into the wrong hands it’d be chaos.” He paused, and in a small movement, shook his head. “They call themselves “Sailor Guardians” and claim to fight for “Love and Justice.” In one account they vowed to protect the Earth; so far they’ve been doing that, I guess, but the other side is just wiping the floor with them with the sheer volume of independent attacks.”
 
“Sailor Guardians,” Raven repeated quietly, rolling the title around in her mouth. 
 
Sailor Guardians. Magic, costumes, fighting this uprising without help… maybe that’s what she could do on Earth – maybe she and Raven could go there and figure out who these people are, and try to convince them to share what they knew. EXC-Suit didn’t seem to enjoy his situation – maybe he could pilot them back there covertly. Maybe they could make a difference.
 
Maybe they could save Earth.
 
Their waitress returned with their food, breaking the tense atmosphere and forcing conversation back to less-clandestine topics, but she wouldn’t forget.
 
 
[………………….]
My name is Pandora Arcene, your average teenage girl. I was born on the Lunar Station of Mare Serenitatis on Earth’s Moon, but have lived here, in Aries Colony of the Utopia Planitia on Mars, my entire life. I go to school with Raven and other colonist kids, studying science and math, primarily. My father is a geologist and my mother is a botanist, but my dream is to return to Earth and see the world, or what’s left of it.
The day Raven and I met Aurelius was the first day of the rest of our lives; after that, everything changed. We soon came to find that the troubles on Earth had, for some reason, followed him to Mars, and we learned that the only way to stop it was for us to go to Earth and nip the problem in the bud. As it turned out, if we didn’t, no one else could, because we had been granted strange powers and abilities that could transform us into Sailor Guardians and the three other Guardians on Earth needed our help to defeat the Dark Kingdom threat. 
It’s going to be hard. Fighting is not something I really look forward to, but it’s something I have to do. We need to work together to protect our Earth.

May Writing Contest: Mythical Creatures [x]

Ningyo - Mood Music (please include mood music link XD)


She pulled on the oars, her muscles screaming in protest, the sweat on her brow beading and rolling down her face. Her breath came in painful gasps, the sea air attacking her tongue and throat with every determined drag of air into her lungs. The clouds overhead gathered dark and heavy overhead, but she would not be deterred – she would not stop. She gritted her teeth and pulled on, the oars pushing the ocean back to propel her forward, towards her trap. She glanced behind her and adjusted her strides, eyeing the group of rocks that were only visible during low tide and aiming towards them. The shore beyond was growing farther away, the smoke from the fire she had set rose into the sky to be lost in the grey storm gathering, and her heart raced in fear barely contained by the power of her will alone. 
 
Catching a Ningyo will bring storms and misfortune.
 
She wasn’t so far from the shore; any storm that was summoned would push her back in, not take her out farther  – she could make it back, even if she didn’t know how to swim.
 
A ningyo washed up onto the shore is an omen for war or calamity – but which calls the other is unknown.
 
The ningyo wouldn’t wash up on shore – it would be taken on shore in her boat – but even if what she did counted, they were already at war. If it caused calamity she’d be miles away by the time it struck. Miles away and alive and forever young, unable to be hurt or to die until she was too old to care anymore. She would eat its flesh and run away from the village she had escaped, run away from her prefecture, her emperor, this land. 
 
Those who eat the pleasant-tasting flesh of a ningyo will attain remarkable longevity.
 
The nose of her boat hit the rocks behind her and she released her oars, trusting they would stay in their lock, and fought to remain calm, taking deep, even breaths, staring back at the shore and preparing herself for what she was about to do. What she needed to do.
 
Ningyos look half-human, half-fish, and have a monkey’s mouth with small teeth like a fish, shining golden scales, and a quiet voice like a skylark or a flute. 
 
It’s not human, she thought to herself, It’s ningyo, not human. She shuddered, still panting, her hands in fists on her legs, her eyes focusing on the back of the boat, not the waves, not the shore, and not the rope tied to the rock beside her that disappeared beneath the dark water. It’s not human. … and men are out there, wiping out clans. They’ll find me and kill me to make sure I don’t come back, no matter what I say. I have to run. Her deep blue eyes shifted nervously to the water beside her, beneath where the rope disappeared.And having the powers of the ningyo would guarantee I can survive. 
 
Thunder crashed overhead, jolting her into action, the sound too similar to the houses cracking beneath the fires. She grabbed the blade and put it on the seat across from her, ready to use to end its life, and then leaned over the side, first her right, then her left hand grabbing the rope. She pulled, the boat moving in response to sit above the spot as she hauled her catch upward, her heart being faster as she realized that she had caught something, and that it could be the answer to her need. She reached farther into the water and heaved mightily, pulling as the nose of her boat crashed into the rock again, keeping almost steady as she saw a flash of something golden in the water beneath her. Thunder crashed again, loud and frightening, a warning to let things be, to free the ningyo and leave, but she couldn’t – she was too afraid to leave without it, and fear of what had been overpowered what could be. Hand over hand the rope pulled the load closer, the golden scales of what must have been the tail shimmering as though through seaweed. Finally the top of her net crested the water, and she gripped the netting between her fingers and threw her weight backwards, hauling her catch into the boat with her eyes closed. As the weight of the slippery mass hit the interior of her boat, the waves rocking everything back and forth violently, she grabbed the hilt of her blade and struggled to free her legs from the mass, her chest hurting with the stress on her heart, every nerve of hers twitching with anticipation and fear as she scrambled and kicked herself free.
 
The noise that it made was terrifying at first, quiet and light but obviously startled and frightened; the sounds tugged at her emotions but she couldn’t let it go. It flailed as she finally freed herself from beneath it, huddling in the back of the boat, the blade in one hand, her eyes trying to find a place to strike to kill it – but as she looked for a vital spot she recognized so many similarities that the breath caught in her throat repeatedly, her chest heaving as she sobbed. Ningyo or not, it was half-human – what she had thought was seaweed was instead long hair, the color of the sea. As it cried out in fear it pushed parted the hair from its face so it could see, and it was not the monkey-mouth on a fishy-face she had been expecting, but instead a face so beautiful and so human that it nearly broke her heart with how perfect it was, and the sea-green eyes that looked at her in fear panic struck her to her soul. It was human. It had feelings. 
 
Her hand shook so terribly she dropped the knife, and in her failure to save even herself, she wrapped her arms about her chest, curled up pain, and gave in. “I’m sorry!” she screamed, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she cried over and over, her words for the ningyo, for her family, for everyone she had left behind. Tears would not come, the dry sobs that wracked her body serving only to further her guilt rather than alleviate it. Frustrated at her inability to succeed even in crying, she stretched herself back out again, grabbed the knife one more time, and reached for the net holding the beautiful pale woman with the golden fish tail, and slashed through the rope, strand by strand, to create a hole. Sobs still escaping her, she tossed the knife into the back of her boat and reached beneath the sea creature and rolled her off the side, back to where she belonged, and then fell prone into the bottom of her boat as the rain began to fall. 
 
What would she do now? 
 
What could she do now?
 
She didn’t want to die, and she could not kill to save herself. She was a coward. She might as well follow the ningyo back into the sea and drown –
 
The boat rocked alarmingly and her eyes burst open, her hands and legs pushing against either side of the boat to steady herself as fear swelled again – she couldn’t swim, if her boat capsized she would drown – she didn’t want to die!
 
Water dripped into the boat from above, heavier than the rain, and she looked up to see the beautiful ningyo looking down at her, her arms crossed on the side of the boat to support herself. “You have freed me; what are your wishes?”
 
Wishes?! “I don’t want to eat you anymore, Ningyo! Go back to the depths and be free,” she muttered, looking away.
 
“I am no ‘ningyo’,” she said calmly, her voice melodic as a flute, “I am Ceasg, maiden of the sea. You have freed me, so I will grant you three wishes. What do you wish for, daughter of the shore?”
 
She wasn’t even a ningyo. If she had gone through with it she would have killed her and eaten her for nothing. She was a failure. “I only wish to be free of the war on the shore,” she said, her voice empty. Something warm and wet touched her cheek and she started from the suddenness of the gesture, looking up to see the Caesg looking down at her, her eyes mesmerizing. The hand that caressed her cheek had webbed fingers, but was otherwise like hers, and the touch was so comforting and gentle and so like everything she craved, as the creature removed it, she sat up to follow it. Soon they were staring at each other over the tipping boat, and the hand moved back to her cheek, and then the other to the other side of her face as the boat tipped even farther over, her weight leaning farther over the side, mesmerized by the beautiful eyes of the Caesg, their faces getting closer together… At the critical moment, just as the boat finally gave in and started to flip, the caesg brought the young woman’s face to her own and kissed her lips as she dragged her beneath the waves.
 
And so her first wish was fulfilled.
 
……..

A year later, two caesg swam side by side through the depths; one had long hair the color of the sea and a tail of deepest gold, the other’s hair was short and blonde with a tail of shining silver.  As they moved through the seaweed surrounding an underwater mountain of dark rocks and over the wreckage of a small boat, the blonde took the hand of the golden-tailed sea-maiden in her own, and kept swimming.

Writing Contest: Introductions or Birth [x]

Gold
He didn’t see what the big deal was.

Rolling his eyes he did as instructed, lifting his arm so they could slip the golden adornments into place, knot his cape onto his shoulders, gently tease back his hair and clip it so the blond curls would stay in pace behind his back. He let out an annoyed breath and shot a glance at one of his attendants and they quickly turned the page of the book they held, giving him something to do while they hummed and hawed over how to arrange his bangs and whether to include other medals or pins to his princely attire. By the grace of the gods themselves, one of the heralds stepped in, bowed, and announced that the time had come. His book was marked, his attendants dispersed, he stepped off of his stool and stood straight as his mother looked him over one more time.

“Remember,” she urged quietly, tucking a stray curl behind his ear gently before placing her long, cool fingers on his chin and tilting up so he would look her in the eye. She was serious, and nothing but, as she said, “Be nice.”

He looked away and sighed heavily, “Yes, M’ma.”


“Zetes,” she warned, “He is the --”


“Come, Zetes,” his father’s voice called from the doorway, saving him from any other inane pleas; he nodded his head in respect to her before hurrying to meet the tall and imposing figure by the door, the man’s blue eyes and black hair so unlike his own he sometimes wondered whether they were truly father and son. He followed behind the tall figure, his green eyes on the black cape that billowed before him just as often as it was on the gold-bedecked open hallways they traveled and the floor-to-ceiling open windows to the countryside beyond. The servants here were nice enough, the palace was nice enough - surely it was the most elaborately decorated of all that he had visited before, but never before had he been thrust into brand new garments just to meet someone. They had traveled so far, besides - nearly half a year they had been on the move, from caravans to ships to more caravans to countless homes along the way. His studies had been interrupted. Most of his toys were left behind, along with most of his friends, and all for the sake of meeting someone? He was a Prince. His father was Boreas, King of the North. Surely if someone else needed to be introduced they would come to him, and yet here they were, in this uncomfortable heat, dressed elaborately all for the sake of --

“You will bow to the Golden King,” his father spoke, stopping suddenly. He hastened to halt, staring up at his father’s face in profile as he looked back and down at him, surprised to hear what he had heard. “No one else,” his father stated, his gaze returning forward before he paused once more, turning back, “The Golden King and his son, only. Only they are above you.”

He nodded curtly, taking in the new information, accepting it, and puzzling it over as they continued walking yet again. He had never been told to bow to anyone but his father and mother, the most powerful people in the land; who was this Golden King, and why hadn’t his tutors briefed him on any of this in the six months they were traveling towards this meeting?! 

Sound flooded the hallway ahead; Zetes peeked out from behind his father to see two enormous doors opening before them scant seconds before a fanfare blasted from trumpets on either side of the door and beyond. He straightened, kept his head held high, and followed his father into a yawning chamber accented in gold; a crowd was gathered, the people standing and turning towards them to show respect - they entered from the back; however…they weren’t the only ones. From the corner of his eye, he spotted no less than three other father-son groups walking in the same fashion he and his father were, each with his own unique colors. He didn’t know who those others were, but he immediately decided that green and black looked the best.

They all reached the front of the room at the same time, and, at the same time, the Kings stepped aside and he and the other three princes stepped forward, standing two steps before their fathers. He was on the farthest left and was immediately taking note of each of his supposed peers to the right of him, but as two adults dressed in gold and purple entered and sat down, he kept his head forward until, as one, the room bowed before them. The Golden King and Queen, whoever they were or whatever they meant. Everyone straightened, and there was a small commotion at the end of the line of the four of them, but he couldn’t turn and see or else look interested. Instead a voice rang out introductions:

“Of the West: King Zephyros, Queen Khloris, and Prince Karpos.”

There was a pause; someone was moving down the line - someone his height?

“Of the South: King Notos, Queen Sitta, and Prince Jiro.”

The son then? The Golden Prince? 

“Of the East: King Euros, Queen Iris, and Prince Nahele.”

The black-haired boy stopped beside him and the brown-haired prince bowed. What were they saying?

But then it was his turn. The Golden Prince moved from Nahele to him; he wasn’t very tall and looked younger. Black hair, tanned skin from being outside; he wore black, silver, and gold. Zetes wasn’t really impressed.

“Of the North: King Boreas, Queen Gale, and Prince Zetes.”

He bowed, and when he straightened, he found the Prince was holding out his hand. “Hi,” the blue-eyed boy greeted quietly. On his best behavior, Zetes took the offered hand to shake and show no enmity existed between them, but the moment their skin touched, his entire world shifted into focus.

“I’m Endymion.”

Writing Contest: Mystery Date Night [x]
Late entry


Regrets
AU wherein, after Usagi is revealed to be the Princess, Umino is revealed to be the Earth Prince, rather than Mamoru Chiba. I mean maybe he really was but my head never got past that part because yessssssssssssss and hahaha screw original timeline I guess? Cause masquerade ball deal at Princess D's happened way before that OKAY WHATEVER I JUST FOLLOWED MY HEADHEART THE END.

\"Don't look back." / Balcony / Anxious, Guilty / Insecure, Stubborn wrote:

“Don’t look back,” she urged herself in a whisper so quiet that the movement of her lips seemed louder than the air that trembled as it passed through. Her fingers clutched at her bag as she pushed herself forward, one foot in front of the other, forcing her chin to stay up and trying to keep her shaking to herself as she walked away from the only person who had ever given her butterflies. The only person who had ever made her feel weak at the knees with just a smile. The only person who --

She grit her teeth and focused on the floor in front of her feet, refusing to acknowledge any of that. It didn’t matter now. It wouldn’t work. She passed through the glass doors, leaving the cool open air for the closeted interior of the ballroom, the space as expansive as it was suffocating. Deep, panicky breaths did little to calm her as she strode through the crowd, eyes glued to the wooden floor and the flashes of fancy dresses and shining dress shoes that guided her steadily away from the balcony and the future she had thought possible before destiny had caught up to and ensnared her.

Her fist brushed up against something warm and she turned with an apology on her lips only to find him, his hand outstretched towards her hesitantly, his expression so confused and hurt that it made her heart just ache to see him like that. She averted her gaze, took another step back to lengthen the distance between them and turned -

“Usagi,” he said, and her heart thudded so painfully that she raised her empty hand to press against her chest to quiet it. “I thought - ?” his quiet question stopped the moment she shook her head to stop him; she couldn’t handle this - she wasn’t strong enough to face him, not yet. She took another step back, her heels unsteady beneath her as she turned away from him, needing to escape. It had taken everything she had to reject him, everything she had to practice those words over and over again, and everything she had to deliver them and walk away. She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t trust herself enough to do what was right; her head was nothing compared to her heart, and her heart wanted…

She grit her teeth to strengthen her resolve, but his warm hand touched her shoulder and she all but froze in place. “You don’t want this,” he said, his quiet yet forceful confidence rang with careful incredulity as he read her easily, just as he always seemed to do, and she quivered, feeling everything fall apart. She couldn’t help her tears; he knew she was a crybaby anyway - “Why, then?” he asked, his tone softening as her shoulders shook. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She turned back to look at him, her eyes finding his for the first time that night. Mamoru. “Why couldn’t it have been you?”

“Please don’t go” / Marina / Guilty, Excited wrote:

It wasn’t cheating, she told herself over and over, her hands sliding into his hair, her lips finding his again and again, sharing breath and caresses and warmth in the cool air of the marina, the chilling breeze causing nearly as many goosebumps as his fingers as they traveled up her back; her mind kept tugging at her heart, demanding explanation, demanding reason, demanding that loyalties to a life long lost put an end to this affair, even as her love flew stronger and larger than life in the gale storm they made when they were together. Whenever he was near, that guilt-laden kitestring was nothing but a passing annoyance dwarfed by the excitement of being with him - the pleasure of his presence, the allure of their easy banter, the thrill of his touch, the impossible temptation of his kiss… everything else simply ceased to be when she was with him. There was no war, no Dark Kingdom, no past life, no present danger - there was just him and her and them, plain and simple and only too easy to get lost in.

He pulled farther away than a taking a breath warranted and her eyes fluttered open, her arms moving to pull him back, nearly falling off of the railing in the heady dizziness that being with him caused her. He steadied her easily, his hands finding her waist, his head shaking, an intoxicating smile pulling at his lips as he marveled at her carelessness; she took advantage, linking her fingers behind his neck and leaning in closer, “Please don’t go,” she said, the space between them already giving enough room for the unpleasantness to push its way back in.

“We’ve got school in the morning,” he stepped in to rest his forehead against hers, “It’s late enough as it is, Bunhead,” he replied, his rough voice sending a shiver down her spine, “And you can’t convince me you’ll get up on time this time - I know better.”

She laughed at his response and he lifted her down, his hand easily finding hers as they followed the path towards the city streets. She intertwined her fingers with his and wished they didn’t have to part - not now, not ever - but as they reached her house, they did. She avoided her mother’s mischievous smile, her father’s questioning gaze, her brother’s loud tease, and as she closed her door behind her, she avoided Luna’s wide eyes, but she felt their weight anyway as she gathered her things for her bath. “Usagi-chan…” Luna said, her voice trailing off without finishing her thought as Usagi paused by her door.

“I…” she swallowed, the easy giddiness she had felt with him all but gone, her chest heavy, the words sticking to her throat. “I’m selfish,” she said quietly, “I can’t help - “ she choked on the lie, “I…” Her hand gripped the door handle and twisted, “I’m sorry I’m disappointing you,” she said, then quickly exited, closing the door behind her. She couldn’t bear to see Luna look at her like that.

Writing Contest: Fun in the Sun [x]

background music: Icarus by Bastille

The battle spread out beneath him, an army as far as the eye could see, writhing and raging, pushing forward through the darkness, lunging closer by leaps and bounds towards the precipice upon which he perched. Twisted faces screamed and groaned their cries of challenge as they scrambled to meet him, to tear him limb from limb, to rip him to shreds for being the forward scout. Heart hammering in his chest, their cries reverberating through him like hundreds of hammers striking hundreds of gongs, he pressed himself to kept control of his breathing, waiting until they reached the exact line in the black, rocky surface - and then stood proud against them. He quickly pressed his horn to his lips and blew, the pure tone cutting through the air above the guttural cries like a laser light cutting through the dark and then, on queue, the first rays of dawn crested the horizon behind him.

Warm light flooded the barren scape behind him - he could see it reflecting off their shining eyes and matte-black bodies as they renewed their screams in rage, climbing up his cliff to seek revenge before the true battle again, but he was prepared for that. Slipping his goggles into place and dropping the trumpet to hang on the string against his shoulders, he took in a deep breath, ran, and jumped from the ledge, spreading his arms wide. As he left the ground beneath his feet and fell towards the writhing horde beneath him, a shiver traveled from his shoulders to the small of his back as the tattoo of wings shimmered in gold and then freed itself from his body, becoming appendages as real as his own arms and legs, twitching once in the sudden freedom from his skin. His mouth a grim line of determination, he locked his wings in place and glided down to gain speed, then angled up, staying just out of reach of their cruel claws. He tilted, turning a tight circle to head back towards the cliff face, soaring above it to bask in the glow of the brilliant sunrise. Peace overtook him and he smiled, relaxing as he coasted back towards the source of that sunlight - the source of all light in his life: 

Sol Apollo. 

The young ruler rode forth to meet him, his sun-kissed skin glowing in the light of the dawn he brought with him, his Stars riding their own steeds at his side; the sight was enough to bring tears to the eyes of poets, to stop mortals in their steps for sheer awe of the heavenly sight, and yet the guardians themselves never seemed to notice or give it any mind as they raced forward to fight the forces of the Night and bring peace to their budding Star System.

Venus was brightest among them, the long blonde hair whipping out behind her nearly as bright as her eyes and the grin of challenge as she rode into battle, her whip held at the ready, sunlight setting afire her tresses and making the golden laurel wreath upon her brow glow. Mars, beside her, looked on dispassionately as her steed raced forward, her own hair dark as night, the golden laurel the only shining thing about her other than the tip of her arrow, alight with literal fire as she aimed and loosed a shot into the horde of creatures behind him. Mercury rode on his other side, bright blue eyes searching the line with determination, her fingers racing along the strings of her lyre nearly as quickly as the thrumming beat of their horses’ hooves across the carbon rock beneath their pounding feet. The last of them - Jupiter - urged her horse forward, sparks of electricity arcing along her crown until she pointed a graceful finger and lightning shot away from her to crash into the enemy’s flank. 

These were the guardians of this new Solar System, the senshi that would win it for the Light and allow life to flourish within its borders, led by their King, the guardian of the life-giving Star itself, the very man who looked up at him now with those golden eyes and gave him a cocky smile. “Icarus!” he called, and the white-winged scout dove to meet him, as able to resist the call as rocks were able to resist the pull of gravity. Sol Apollo reached up and Icarus reached down, his heart racing for more than just the adrenaline of the upcoming standoff as his hero gripped his forearm and pulled him down to ride behind him on his white steed. As his wings disappeared in another ripple of sensation across his back, he wound one arm around golden-clad torso of the would-be King and raised the horn to his lips with the other and blew once more, the brassy command joined by the whooping call of the Guardian of the Sun as he braced before him, leaning low over the equine creature with his long spear pointed forward. Icarus braced as they crashed into enemy lines with the sun at their backs, tearing through forces as easily as parting waves.

On his left Venus stood upon her steed and whipped her chain around her, the steel slicing through anything it touched, the wound burning with light even as the creatures fell. Mars’s arrows flew into enemies both far and near, the arrows sinking into the ground far into the distance exploding in an inferno as the Guardian of War picked her next target. The music Mercury played emboldened him in a way that his horn could never hope to imagine, and somehow her cold words were heard easily above the din as she pointed out weaknesses in their defensive lines - weaknesses Jupiter immediately sought to take advantage of, grinning madly as lighting sprung from her fingers to turn the creatures back to black dust. 

When the first creature survived their leading line Icarus turned back, only for a second, to see the warriors made of golden sunlight quickly engage them, following their creator’s whims as surely as the beings of darkness were driven by their own orders. 

How lucky was he to be chosen to be here? To serve any part in this war to claim the territories hitherto left to chaos was an honor, but to be chosen to serve them directly? To be given wings and the ability to call them forth, to ride with them into battle, to witness their acts from a position directly behind him… behind Apollo…

As though able to read his very thoughts, the tall rider turned back, the shining sun-pointed earcuff sparkling in the light of the risen sun behind them, his golden eye-makeup somehow still perfect against his dusky skin despite the battle raging around him. He smiled, at him, and Icarus’s heart seemed to stop. “Isn’t this fun?” he asked, and Icarus could not answer, his tongue somewhere between swallowed and paralyzed. Sol Apollolaughed, and it was like colors came back into the world, his head growing lighter to the point that he wondered if he was breathing. Apollo twisted and ruffled Icarus’s white hair with a golden-cuffed hand, his spear balanced on the back of the horse’s neck as he joyously proclaimed, “Don’t worry, Icarus, we’ll make a Helios of you yet.”

‘If it was for him,’ Icarus thought, his breath and heartbeat returning as the king turned back around and Venus’s blue gaze met with his to deliver a knowing wink that made him blush. He held tighter to the man in front of him - as tight as he dared - and swallowed, knowing, if nothing else, that this was true. ‘If it was for him, I would be Helios for eternity.’

Writing Contest: New Era [x]

“Never again.”

“My Queen?” Hermes asked, his whisper matching the breaking of her voice.

“Never again,” she avowed, pressing the regolith into place above where her daughter’s heart would have been, feeling the cool sand beneath her hands, driving home that those hands would never comfort Pandia, her sweet, bright, beautiful Pandia, ever again. “Mark my words, Hermes, and make it holy law: A citizen of the Moon is never to know a denizen of the Earth. Cut all ties, cease all visits; the time of Earth-Moon relations are at an end. We will continue to protect them, but from afar, as silent guardians and nothing more, so that Pandia’s fate will never repeat itself.”

The white cat nodded and departed, his paws soft on the white sand; she trusted he would do his duty, and in moments felt a power on the wind that would spread her message to all of her subjects. She took comfort in that; it would never happen again. Never again.

Ersa sobbed, and, her heart aching like fire, Selene grabbed across the grave to pull her surviving daughter to her breast, the two of them making an arch over Pandia’s final place of rest. She stroked her girl’s silver hair with one hand, the other holding her close as her daughter’s tears soaked her chiton, and while she knew that neither of the pair of lovers were to blame, she was certain she was making the right choice. Ersa would never know the life of Earth as Pandia had; she would never walk in its streams, never feel its breeze tease her hair, never hear the waves crashing against its shores or smell its greenery on a warm summer’s eve. She would never know the joys of colorful sunrises or the warmth of beautiful sunsets; she would never meet the myriad of lifeforms Earth had to offer, never interact with the humans of its kingdoms, but she would be safe from this fate. As her mother, she would do her best to bring elements of Earth up to their Kingdom for Ersa to know, would install means to view everything she was being denied, sew magic into their city to synthesize experiences native to their star, but fate could not be tempted again. Her daughters were too beautiful, too magnificent, too magnetic and powerful, just as all of her descendants were bound to be, and while they had the ability to be infinitely happy they had in equal amounts the ability to end just as Pandia had in the darkest of tragedies, and Love always found a way bring that crossroads to the forefront. Of all humans on Earth, Musaeus with his many gifts was the most worthy of Pandia, and yet their love had not been enough to save them.

“It is done, my lady,” a deeper voice called, and Selene pulled back from her daughter to look upon Hecate just as smoke overcame her humanoid form and the Mau returned to her true shape. The black cat stared at her with eyes that would be unnerving to so many, but all Selene could see there was the compassion alongside the anger, the loss with the pride of justice served, and in them knew the ally she had depended upon so often to guide their ideas to fruition. “The Terrans are back where they belong, their memories erased; their ships have been destroyed, their records demolished - they will no longer know of your great kingdom or what purpose it serves.”

“And the other?” she asked, the question catching in her throat. She did not need to name the woman she spoke of - she would never think that name again, never allow it to be spoken, for repeating such a name would give it more attention and life than it deserved.

“The murderess has departed for Hades’ realm,” Hecate replied steadily, and door closed in Selene’s heart. She would not mourn the one responsible for this, and while it may be morally grey to do so, she did not fault Hecate taking this action without consultation.

Ersa’s breath caught in her throat again and Selene reached out for her daughter once more, this time drawing her to her feet. She lead her girl’s delicate steps around the grave of her departed sister and the pair of them, with Hecate keeping pace, passed by the grave of Musaeus. Wrapping her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, she escorted her new heir to their palace, noting that the white marble facade seemed emptier than before without Pandia’s light and warmth. “Have you investigated the crystal?” she asked, stepping up the stairs only too recently cleaned of blood.

“Not in great depth,” Hecate replied, “but already I sense enormous power emanating from it, power with the potential for great good or great evil, a power as brilliant as your light and as cold. It is as though it is your power that it holds - the power of a Goddess, a Deity of this celestial body. Never before has a Goddess’s tear crystallized so there is much to study, but I feel like this Silver Crystal is fated to be of great import, to yourself and your descendants.”

“My descendants?” she stated, requesting clarification as she looked upon Ersa’s crown, still holding her daughter close as they walked.

“Though it is of your making, I feel your daughter may be able to harness its powers as her own, with training.”

She swallowed, nodding. Her powers were great and marvelous; they could create illusions, act with force, heal the wounded… though not bring back those who were dead. If Pandia had had access to her skills… but she could not allow herself to travel that path. Ersa would have access. Ersa’s daughters would have access. They could protect themselves and this Kingdom she left them; eventually, that meant she, Selene, could finally rest. She could fade away, joining her parents, her siblings, the First Ones who had released their hold and forsook their claim on the mortal realm, and not worry after her daughter’s fate. “Look into it,” she stated, swallowing hard. “Make it your top priority. I want to know everything you can find out about that crystal and its use.” She paused, considering too the emotional loss Ersa faced in the death of her only sibling, “Search, too, as to whether there are others like it and who their bearers may be.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Hecate replied, and disappeared in a rush of smoke.

Ersa paused, suddenly like marble in her arms, and Selene followed her gaze to the single rose on the floor, its bud smashed and tread upon, petals strewn about its broken form. Her heart stuttered. Pandia. 

Roses would never be grown on the Moon.

Never again would one of her daughters know the Earth and its dangers. 

Never again.

Writing Contest: Ghost Stories [x]

Years and years and years ago, there was a terrible war between the Moon and Earth. Some say it started with jealousy, some say mistrust, others blame the start was misplaced love, but everyone agrees that its end was nothing less than tragic. Both sides suffered heavy casualties; both sides lost rulers that day... 

“They say she haunts the castle,” the girl whispered, her hand covering her mouth to hide the story. “They say, to this day, if you listen carefully, you can hear her sobbing in the night. Her sighs are the wind that fills the castle walkways, her tears constantly drip down walls in the courtyard, her agony calling thunderstorms up without warning to interrupt romantic rendezvous. They say that if you so much as meet with your lover on the anniversary of the day it happened, she will curse you to be separated from them forever, just as she was from her Earth Prince.” 

They curled together in the rose-covered alcove, leaning in to hear more of the cautionary tale about their new home. She didn’t know where she ended and the others girls began, the urge for closeness and support as the story creeped through their skin and caused shivers in their spine made the touching of skin to skin only natural as they waited with bated breath for the new leader of their group to continue, their hearts bonding now in fear and worry and caution. 

“But it’s not only lovers that she curses, I heard,” the young girl continued, finger to her lips like she shared a closely-guarded secret, “They say the parties are freezing cold in her presence, that only the Queen can start them off or else she will seep the energy right out of your body and leave you cold and numb and hopeless, like you will never feel happy again. They say that there used to be ice skating in the capital, but the rink was permanently closed because of her. And that flower garden on the east side?”

“What flower garden?” asked a quiet, trembling voice. 

“Exactly. They say the eastern gardens were once the most beautiful in the entire Moon Kingdom, but even after they rebuilt after the war, flowers have never grown there again. They say that she won’t let them grow, that the memories she had with her friends make the gravity there too strong for flowers to come out of the soil, so it sits, desolate and dead, just like them.”

“Her friends?”

“What happened to them?”

“They were killed,” she sadly explained, pausing as they quietly gasped, “Each and every one of them, in the war. They died trying to protect her and our Kingdom and were murdered to the last for it. They say that if you even mention their names in her haunting presence, your heart will be turned to stone.”

“No!”

“Yes!” she said, nodding, leaning in, her voice dropping further, “And should you ever see her corporeal form as she slowly walks her old footsteps in this castle, unless you pray for forgiveness to the Crystal Tower in the Chamber of Prayer, you will be be driven insane by her grief and eventually take your life just as she --” her breath caught, eyes widening impossibly, and the trio of girls quickly turned to see what she saw and screamed, pushing up from the ground and scrambling to their feet even as they ran to the Chamber of Prayer, visions of Princess Serenity standing beneath the covered path through the garden burned into their minds’ eye. 


But it wasn’t Princess Serenity. 

As the last of the girls disappeared through a courtyard door, a tall female form stood frozen, her hand curled around a small object that she pressed to her breast above her heart. As the shock wore off, her crystal blue eyes softened and filled with tears that shone in the Earthlight brighter than her silver hair or the linked golden circles that adorned the line of her shift dress. Tall and elegant and cold, she did not well resemble the old Princess of the Moon Kingdom, and it had been long since she was mistaken for her. She was Queen Serenity II, sole ruler of her world, sole survivor of a terrible assault on her kingdom, and she was alive, despite how much she had wished otherwise in the days following the burial of her friends, her family, and her only love. That that part of her had finally gotten its wish and lived on so vividly in the minds of those children as a heartbroken, malicious spirit made her feel like a crossroads stretched out before her: she could either choose to continue embracing the ghost of her past and forever mourn the loved ones she had lost, or lay the ghost to rest and open herself up to the hearts of these new arrivals.

Luna turned a corner and paused, bowing her head slightly, “Your Majesty.”

Hope was the one thing she had been good at, and yet now it seemed like the most terrifying prospect. “Luna,” she greeted, slowly easing her grip around the object clutched in her hand.

“I apologize, but have you seen them?”

“It has been a long time since you have had to keep up with children,” Queen Serenity II replied, her tone thawing. She turned slightly, looking upon her old friend and really seeing her for the first time in a very long time. A smile, foreign to her for so long, tried to shape upon her lips, “Don’t be hard on yourself. Venus was just telling them a story in the garden; I’m afraid I must have scared them. I think you’ll find them in the Chamber of Prayer.”

Luna stared at her with shock, though of a vastly different type than the children had. She nodded and continued on the path, crossing in front of her towards the most direct route to the Crystal Tower. 

“Would you mind redirecting them to the solar?” she asked, and Luna paused, turning as though she did not quite believe what she heard. Serenity did not blame her, though that long-lost smile fought harder to appear. “I’d like to play a game with them.”

“A game?” Luna replied, almost choking on the suggestion. 

Her heart growing warm, she slipped the trinket into a pocket and nodded, her smile finally arriving. “I’d like to take them ghost hunting.”