Mark Page wrote:
Naito Raida ikari@chariot.net.au
>From the Personal Journal of Neo Queen Serenity
(Tsukino Usagi I)
6/29/98
Anyway, it was when I had been guided into one of the
playrooms, and suitably surrounded by a gaggle of young children,
all holding out gifts of flowers and whatever else they had been
instructed to give, that I noticed the boy who had survived the
massacre of his village, holding back in the corner of the main
room. He didn't seem interested in greeting me at all, and as my
time in the playroom passed, had sunk into a small ball, his hands
wrapped tightly over the top of his head, facing the wall.
I asked one of those in charge of the playgroup about the boy,
and was told about his story. Well, what do you think I did then,
hmm? I do have a reputation to keep up, although I didn't know, at
that time, what I was getting myself into. I'd never encountered an
orphan of, what could be considered in retrospect, war, before, and
was not experienced in the kind of post-traumatic stress exhibited
by those who survive such events. Even before I approached the boy,
I was warned by not only those in charge of the orphanage, but my
own bodyguards, that his reaction to my presence might be....
unexpected and unnatural.
But did I listen to them? Oh nooooo.... I'm Princess
Serenity, right? Everyone KNOWS I mean them no harm. Well, after
kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder, he turned in
fright and sank his teeth into my fingers. I spent the next few
Well, after I kneeled down and placed a hand on his shoulder.
minutes trying to stop people mobbing him whilst simultaneously
sucking my fingers in a vain attempt to relieve the pain. Not what
one would call the most regal moment in my existence.
As one of my aides was trying to guide me away from the boy,
one of the orphanage's workers grabbed him by the hair and lifted
him to his feet, screaming and bawling. I turned to them and
snapped, with about as much force as I could muster, which is not
pleasant when you're at the receiving end, I'm lead to believe. Of
led
course, the only way I could have experienced what it was like to
face my own rage is when my mother would go off her tree, as she
was (occasionally) capable of doing. I seem to remember one such
moment when I was climbing a tree in the Palace gardens, but I
digress.
I wouldn't repeat "tree". Perhaps just "climbing one"
The worker let go of the boy in surprise, who then crawled
back into the corner of the room and huddled as I surprised all
with my grasp of expletives. I then thought twice and apologised,
still quite annoyed with the woman, who was down on her knees
begging for forgiveness. As if she expected to be executed for
what she had done.
That probably shouldn't be a separate sentence.
I brushed her and my aides aside and went back to the boy, who
had kept one tear-filled eye on what was going on. He watched me
approach, his body stiffing with anticipation. I could feel, deep
within me, the very distrust that he was feeling. A hatred of other
people, given birth by bearing witness to things even I could not
imagine in my deepest, darkest nightmares. The eye that kept a wary
vigil on me was no longer the eye of a child, for no child in their
right mind could express what was within him, merely in a glance.
I'd delete "in their right mind". "with just a glance"
And still, I reached down to him, because, just as he seemed
no longer capable of expressing the desire to connect with other
humans, I could not allow myself to let someone.... anyone.... to
sink into such a deep, horrible abyss of pain and emotional despair.
I knew no differently.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
BISHOUJO SENSHI SAILORMOON / TAIHO SHICHAUZO
NOT A GOD
by nIGHT rIDER (Assistance by DDFA)
Disclaimer - all characters pertaining to the series Bishoujo Senshi
Sailormoon and Taiho Shichauzo are owned by Takeuchi Naoko,
Fujishima Kosuke, Bandai, TBS, and Kodansya. All other characters
were thought up by me. Well, it's true, isn't it?
Chapter 14
Waking Up is Hard to Do
--------------------------------------------------------------------
>From the Personal Journal of Neo Queen Serenity
(Tsukino Usagi I)
6/29/98
Wrapped within the protection of my arms, the boy seemed to
be dozing off, as if he had never been able to sleep since his
ordeal had begun.
There had once been an occasion where Mars had described me
as the kind of person who tended to take in stray animals,
especially after they flashed their big, doe-like eyes at me or
made little whining/whimpering/mewling noises. Well, I did befriend
Rei, so she was probably right.
The boy was not some pathetic, starving, cute little animal.
Well, he certainly wasn't all that cute, as my fingers could attest
to, but I could just see everyone's faces when I brought him back
into the Palace. "Oh no, not ANOTHER one?" They'd say. "Don't
you ever, ever, EVER give up?" Even worse, what mother would say to
me. I mean, what could I say? "Sorry Mom. It followed me home, so
can I keep it?" I don't think so, somehow.
I let things slide, though. Better to deal with the hard
stuff when I got home. It was still a couple of days before my
personal transport arrived at the Guardian Satellite, the last
stopover navigation point before the final descent to the Moon.
I had always found something comforting about the silence of
travel between the worlds and stations. There were teleports, of
course, which had made the process of travelling and transportation
of trade that much easier, but I despised the sensation of being
ripped from one place and thrown into another. It denied you the
ability to feel the passing time and space that comes with actually
being physically moved. For all the good that teleports had done,
they had all the sensual subtlety of a brick through a window.
No, the ability to just lie back, glancing out a port at an
approaching orb or station.... The feeling of micro gravity and
positive weightlessness.... The momentum of the vessel, the light
emanating from the engines and navigation beacons.... Now THAT is
what I call travelling. I could fall asleep, gently shaken by the
rumbling of the vessel, constant and predictable, it came as no
surprise that the boy, never having experienced these sensations,
should give in to them as I so often did. Despite the misgivings
he seemed to express earlier about being snatched from the
surroundings of the orphanage by a young woman he didn't know. He
quickly got the hang of NOT being in the orphanage, however, and I
wasn't all that surprised. Even though the constancy of the
orphanage had given him a sense of stability that he had lost in
his short life, the possibility of something BETTER is quite a
strong lure.
It had also been a long time since I had traveled with anyone
aboard my transport. Not since I was a child have I had the
pleasure of another's company.
----o
The West Entrance of the Gallery was not what Natsumi had been
expecting. Something with a name like 'West Entrance' gave her the
impression of something important and official, especially when
attached to concepts like 'Gallery'. She had not been able to glean
any information from Miyuki, whatsoever, as to what this Gallery
might be, or even where it was and to whom it belonged. But still,
given everything else she had seen in this dream, she was sure it
had to be important.
It wasn't. Well, not that much.
The West Entrance looked a bit dark and dingy, like the
doorway to an ancient dungeon. After following Miyuki, who resisted
all attempts to make light conversation, along a succession of
equally impressive hallways, they passed through an arch into what
appeared to be an older part of the palacial structure. The halls
were still impressive in Natsumi's estimation, but they were by no
means as opulent as the others had been. It was a sign of a power
on the rise.... Official buildings becoming more impressive over
time, their older counterparts looking, quite frankly, crap in
comparison.
The smaller hall was like that found in older government
buildings back home. Modestly high ceiling, with adornments only
around light fittings. Pale green walls were interspersed with
large, dark wooden doors, vaguely Victorian era in their finish and
the little brass plates nailed into them, denoting their purpose
and/or the owners of the room beyond.
None of the doors were open, which surprised Natsumi. She had
not seen a single bit of hustle and bustle anywhere within the
palace.... Not even messengers and couriers, who might have been
expected to be dashing all over, considering the distances. It was
a little unnerving, although it was probably well after office
hours. Well, OF COURSE it was after office hours.... She WAS
dreaming all of this, for Ducati's sake.... She snorted to herself
as they passed through another archway into an even older and less
impressive part of the palace, making Miyuki.... The Second
Guardolier, Natsumi had to remind herself, glance back in her
direction quizzically.
As they descended a flight of stairs towards what would
ultimately turn out to be the West Entrance, Natsumi considered her
longtime partner, and wondered why she would be dreaming her in such
a haughty and distant manner. Was this version of Miyuki a
caricature of the kind of person her subconscious envisioned her to
be? To begin with, maybe Miyuki had a tendency to hold back about a
lot of things, about her past and her personal life. Natsumi, on
the other hand, was barely capable of even THINKING about holding
back her thoughts and feelings on many a subject, most especially
her past and her personal life. Indeed, she was incapable of
holding back her thoughts and feelings about the personal lives of
everyone around her, but that was another subject....
Miyuki paused by the two ancient wooden doors that made up the
West Entrance and ran a hand over them, slowly, studying them from
up close. "What is it?" Natsumi leaned over her shoulder,
quizzically.
"There does not seem to be any sign of the doors being
forced." Miyuki's face became thoughtful and she lifted her face to
the top of the doorway, reaching up to feel the gap where the doors
met the stonework. "The spirits of this place are quiet. They have
not been disturbed for quite some time. Wherever the thieves are
gaining access to the Gallery, tis not through here."
"The spirits...." Natsumi began, then thought better of it,
nodding with a smile as if she understood what Miyuki was talking
about. Miyuki turned to her and gestured towards the door with a
nod.
"Well, it's up to you, now."
"Eh?" Natsumi swallowed. Miyuki waited patiently, tapping a
foot with some impatience.
"Open the doors." Miyuki reached out a hand and pushed
against the door. Even with all of her weight behind it, the doors
refused to move an inch. Miyuki stopped and turned back to Natsumi.
"Why do you think the Commandeer sent you with me? You're the one
with the Spirit of Power within you. Only one with the right kind
of spirit can communicate with the spirits of these doors.
Otherwise they get, to use a vulgar form of vernacular, pissed off
and refuse to allow people through until their dander wears down."
"Oh, right then." Natsumi giggled, then turned to the door,
completely perplexed as to what Miyuki expected her to do. "Well, I
better open them, then."
"Please do." Miyuki crossed her arms and waited as Natsumi
cracked her knuckles and stepped up to the recalcitrant wooden
objects. She flexed her muscles and slammed her hands against them,
preparing to apply every bit of strength within her to push them
apart, when she found herself flat on her face, the doors clanging
against the walls as if they had been barged through by an elephant
on steroids. Miyuki sighed and stepped over her partner into the
rarely-used West Hall of the Palace Gallery. "Very good, Third
Guardolier. Allow absolutely everyone in the Gallery know we're
coming. All you had to do was push gently, but no...."
Natsumi looked daggers at Miyuki's back as her partner
silently padded along the small, dark hall that lead to an even
darker, and obviously larger, room beyond. Picking herself up she
glanced back at the doors, sourly, and was sure she could see large
sweatdrops running down their sides. "Yes...." She whispered to
she
herself. "I'd be sweating oceans too if I were you."
"Sorry ma'am." Said one of the doors. "We saw you building
said
up like that and, well, we didn't want to get hurt."
"Yeah, it's been so long since we've been opened. I mean, our
hinges need some oiling and all, and with that force behind you,
well, it would have been real bad if we didn't get out of the way."
"It'll be pink elephants next." Natsumi shook her head and
followed Miyuki, stopping behind her partner before glancing back
at the doors, her jaw hitting the floor. "Wait a minute, those
doors, they just.... to me.... they just...."
"Shhhhh." Miyuki turned to her. "I think I can hear someone
talking within the Gallery. Right over on the far side, near the
ancient fountain."
Natsumi shrugged, trying to tell herself that this was only a
dream.... Only a dream.... Only a dream.... "And I take it that
there isn't supposed to be anyone in the Gallery right now?"
"At this time of the morning? You're kidding me?" Miyuki
rubbed her chin. "It sounds like two women, talking to each other."
"Some of our own?" Natsumi quizzed, but Miyuki shook her
head.
"There isn't enough time for the others to have reached the
Main Entrance. And whoever it is, they're apparently unconcerned
about being discovered. They aren't expecting anyone to disturb
them...."
----o
Usagi ran her fingers through the gently rippling waters of
the ancient fountain, staring at her own distorted reflection. "He
never left your side, you know? Not for years. Not until he was a
young man. There were times when we thought he would come between
Endymion and yourself, but...." Queen Serenity looked upwards at
the large skylights that ringed the ceiling above the fountain.
Beams of Earthlight, pale and ghostly, filtered through, giving the
entire scene an almost eerie, unearthly feel. There were no other
lights to speak of, only the light of the Earth.... One day to be
the last sanctuary for humankind. Usagi followed her gaze,
I wouldn't exactly call it a sanctuary. That implies a safety that
never existed.
squinting at the orb above, seemingly huge in comparison to the
usual reverse view of the moon from the Earth.
"Was he happy?" Usagi asked, softly. "After all of that, did
he manage to live a happy life?"
"He left, eventually. It is the destiny of all those not born
to our inheritance to find their own way." Serenity turned back to
Usagi. "A life, on the world in which he was born. He married a
servant girl from the palace and settled in what we would now call
Ukraine. In times we would now regard as almost pre-historical."
What do you mean "we"? Serenity is not a modern person.
"Did he ever have children of his own?" Usagi found herself
asking, as if the question was important to her. The glow of the
Earth seemed to be filling her eyes ever brighter, dazzling her and
making Serenity's voice seem as ethereal as it should have been.
"Many many adopted children filled his life. Your influence,
I'm afraid." Serenity smiled.
Tears entered Usagi's eyes. "So he had no children of his
own...." She swallowed, softly. "Too hard to get that close to
people after everything he witnessed with his own eyes."
That doesn't follow. She knows he got married so he probably got
close to someone. If he had no children, then probably his wife would
have died young or he fired blanks. Usagi's reaction would make more sense if
Serenity said that he went off to become a farmer and didn't mention
the wife until Usagi got teary about poor lonely whatsisname.